To the J’Tok, it was service to a respected and an admired leader, and a matter of Narnish pride. To Captain Carn Mollari, it was the wishes of his – slightly crazy – uncle, but also a matter of Centauri pride. Later, both captains would get into trouble for this from their governments, but that was if they survived. And if they did, then they would have formed a crucial bond together.

To Captain Ben Zayn and Mr. Harriman Gray, it was about following orders, about taking a path and not deviating, about fighting and continuing and not surrendering. To Laurel Takashima, it was what should be a simple task – holding the Line – turning into a mass of voices screaming at her, amongst crew who had their own agendas and another set of thoughts originating in her mind.

To Shai Alyt Tryfan, it was a chance for glory, and to justify the faith others had placed in him. To Satai Kalain, it was a military action, something that had to be done. To Holy One Sinoval, it was the continuation of his destiny, a chance to achieve the future he knew belonged to him and his people. To the Satai Hedronn, Lennann and Rathenn, it was a day when the Minbari became not butchers, but doctors, cutting the evil away from the galaxy.

To Ambassador Susan Ivanova, it was the end to fear. To Warmaster Jha’dur, Deathwalker, it was the beginning of her monument to her people.

To General Hague, it was the day that self-esteem and self-respect died. To President Clark, it was a glorious day. To Mr. Welles it was a time when all his calculations and theories would be borne out and proved or disproved once and for all. To Bester, it was a time for testing and forging. To G’Kar, it was the beginning of the strike back. To Marcus, it was a time for choice. To Lyta, a time of sorrow. To Ta’Lon, a day when he wished he could get there on time.

To Delenn, Zha’valen, it was a forlorn hope for peace. To Starfury pilot Neeoma Connally, it was a nightmare she would not wake up from. To Captain Sheridan and Commander Corwin it was…

To Captain Sheridan and Commander Corwin it was a time for choices.

Sheridan had faced down Minbari fleets before. Standing at his side, so had Corwin. Neither was afraid. Sheridan was filled with the supreme confidence he always felt in battle. It was a chance to forget everything else, to forget Bester and Anna and Clark and Delenn and focus on the one thing that made him special. Corwin was less confident, but just as focussed.

Sheridan’s normal strategy in a situation like this would be to mine the entrance to the system, fight a slow holding action and pull the Minbari ships into the mines. It had worked with the Black Star, and it compensated for their inability to target the Minbari ships. There were just two problems, however…

One was that he had arrived here at about the same time as the Minbari fleet, meaning that the area had not been mined. Whatever the Resistance Government’s reasons for not doing this, it meant that Sheridan had to act quickly, throwing his Starfury squadrons forward as a sacrificial screen, allowing him enough time to back off slowly and begin laying the minefields, hoping that enough of his Starfuries would get back in time before the mines became active.

The second problem was more serious. The Shadows.

He had nearly completed the first layer of his minefield, fighting a slow holding and repelling action against the Minbari as he did so, when the first Shadow ship blazed by over the Parmenion. He felt a high pitched agonising scream burn into his mind and he stumbled for a moment. Glancing over at the viewscreen, he was astonished by what he saw. He had never seen a Shadow vessel before, but he knew that the large, black, almost living, spider-like thing could only be a Shadow ship.

The others on the bridge had been affected as well. Corwin was wincing, and the rest of the bridge crew were shaking their heads or holding their hands over their ears.

All except one.

Alisa Beldon did not belong on the bridge. In fact, Sheridan did not really understand why Bester had placed a telepath on the ship at all.

He was about to find out.

Alisa was concentrating. Her eyes were closed and her hands clenched into fists. Blood was dripping from one palm. Sheridan looked at the tactical display in front of him. The… the thing… the Shadow ship… it wasn’t moving. It seemed… paralysed.

He looked up at Corwin. His second had clearly noticed the same thing.

“I think we’ve been set up,” Corwin said.

“Me too. Remind me to kill Bester when we get back.”

‘Do what you think is best,’ Bester had said. Sheridan had assumed he had meant with regard to the Minbari. Bester hadn’t. The pieces were finally clicking together. Bester had sent his ships here to fight the Shadows. Telepaths provided some sort of weapon against them. Bester had been forcing him into making this decision.

He remembered Delenn’s earnest words about the Great War and the Ancient Enemy. He wasn’t sure he’d believed her before, not even after the Babylon 4 incident. Now, he did.

He whispered his wife’s name softly. Anna’s death had been caused by these people, whether directly or indirectly it did not matter. They had corrupted the Resistance Government, killed his wife, caused him to become an exile and traitor.

He looked at Corwin, who shrugged.

“Left broadsides, multiple strikes against that thing,” he ordered.

“Tear it apart.”

The bridge crew smiled, as if they’d been expecting nothing else.

In the words of a great leader of millennia before:

Alea jacta est.

The die is cast.

There is a darkness here, thought Ta’Lon. A grave and terrible darkness.

He could feel it, in the air, in the ground, in the people he met and saw. They had given themselves over to the Enemy willingly, either not knowing or not caring about the consequences. They had done so out of fear, it was true, but they had still surrendered to the Darkness.

Alarms had been given, warning the people to enter shelters – shelters that would do no good if the Minbari did to Proxima what they had done to Earth. The people had largely ignored them. Instead they were waiting beneath the Main Dome, staring up into the skies and dreading the arrival of the blinding light that would herald the end of their existence.

Ta’Lon was alone here, but he had his mission. To find Marcus Cole. To find Lyta Alexander. To free them from the Darkness that ruled this place.

Security guards were no more disciplined than were the common people. Many were standing outside panicking. Many had abandoned their posts, perhaps seeking a last moment with lovers or children or friends, perhaps seeking to avoid the knowledge of their coming death in a fog of drink, perhaps doing many things…

Entering the main government complex of the Main Dome was easy. G’Kar had, a long time ago, obtained plans of most of the major cities and complexes of most of the major power bases in the galaxy. Always in case of emergencies…

The first place Ta’Lon tried was the Detention Block. There was a guard on duty there, one in whom Ta’Lon recognised a calm professionalism driven to near despair. He had refused Ta’Lon entry, had stuck to his determination as if it were the last breath of air in his body.

And so Ta’Lon had tried elsewhere. Fortune was on his side.

The human was pacing up and down the corridors, despair and tragedy in his eyes. He looked haunted. He looked anguished. He looked… he looked lost.

Ta’Lon had false papers authorising him as a Narn security advisor. The security guard at the Detention Block had insisted on having them verified and Ta’Lon had not had the time for that. The papers had managed to get him in this far.