“Minbari coming forward!”

Sheridan swore.

His Starfury screen had been cut down to almost nothing, but it had bought enough time to lay his mine screen, allowing him to concentrate on the Shadows, the enemy he was still slightly surprised to be fighting. The Minbari had finally managed to breach his minefield. He wasn’t surprised – it was inevitable – but he did wonder how much it had cost them to do it.

“Forward interceptors and mass dispersion fire!” he ordered, glancing at Corwin, who was observing the tactical displays and plotting strategies. For the moment, the Shadows were concentrating on the Minbari. Sheridan knew enough to leave two enemies to fight each other, but he doubted he’d be ignored for long.

He also shot a glance at Alisa Beldon. She was leaning heavily against a display, breathing hard. Her aid had helped him take down two of the big Shadow ships and a handful of the smaller ones, but it had taken a lot out of her. She was exhausted. She looked up and smiled wearily.

Damn you, Bester! Sheridan thought. Why did you have to involve children in this?

The ship rocked beneath the barrage of Minbari fire. The interceptors were overheating.

“A boarding pod!” Corwin said. “But that’s…”

Sheridan shared his incredulity. The Minbari didn’t board ships. It wasn’t their way. They must want something here really badly to try and…

His eyes widened. “Delenn! David, can we shoot it down?”

“Nope. It’s too small for our dispersion fire and it’s got that stealth stuff so we can’t target it.”

“Ah hell! Get the… the Narn bat squad patrolling the area where they’re likely to arrive. Patch a message through to…” He thought of Delenn. “No. I’ll go and warn her. Mr. Corwin, you have the bridge. I won’t be long.” Corwin watched as Sheridan ran from the bridge. He was more than a little surprised. Just how closely did the Captain feel for Delenn to do this?

He looked up at the Minbari fleet and swallowed. He was no Starkiller, but he’d studied the great man long enough.

He knew what to do.

Delenn straightened, hearing the warning alarm. She closed her eyes and thought of John. She wondered if he would hate her for this, but she knew that if he did, then she would accept it. There was no other option. She could feel her people dying. The Shadows were too strong, and the Minbari were too weak. Driven by pride and arrogance they had destroyed themselves just as surely as they were being destroyed by the Shadows.

She opened the door and left her room. Her people would come for her. They would take her before the Grey Council, and she would end this.

She stumbled as the ship rocked, but then she could hear the sound of fighting. Hitching her dress up slightly, she ran forward. She had to end this.

Rounding a corner, she entered one of the shuttle docking bays, to find it engulfed by Narns and Minbari, fighting, with gun and sword and pike. She heard the ringing of pike meeting katok, she heard the cries of the dying and the gasps of the wounded.

She closed her eyes and mouthed a silent prayer for forgiveness.

She had to find the leader of the Minbari. It was likely she would recognise him or her. The leader would certainly spot her. Slowly, she began working her way around the wall of the docking bay, avoiding the Narns, hoping she would pass unnoticed.

A Narn was dying at her feet, blood pouring from a neck wound. He reached out pleadingly to her, but she silently stepped aside, inwardly weeping.

She had not seen his desperate, pain-maddened thrashings, and stumbled over his arm, tumbling to the ground. She tried to crawl forward, but he had a grip on her ankle, his last wish not to die alone.

Above her were a Narn and a Minbari, sword and pike flashing, fighting with their ancient weapons of pride. They came close to her, and the Minbari fell. Delenn tried to crawl out of the way, but he fell across her back. She felt a blinding pain and a moment of blackness.

When she came to, the fight was almost over. The Narns were pulling back, but had fortified the main corridor out of the docking bay. The Minbari were slowly moving forward. Delenn gasped, closing her eyes against the pain as she crawled out from under the body which lay on top of her. Slowly she turned, and gently closed his eyes.

“Delenn!”

Oh, no.

She could see John rushing forward, PPG fire picking off the Minbari who were moving towards her. The Narns, inspired by his example, had begun a counter-charge. The Minbari rushed forward, driven by fury and by pride.

The whole ship shuddered again, and Delenn fell forward. John caught her quickly and held her tight. Oh, John, no. I didn’t… I never meant…

He suddenly let go and spun around, firing instinctively. The Minbari warrior fell, two shots striking her chest and head at point-blank range. Sheridan was not happy with something, however. He backed up against the wall and began fumbling with his weapon. The energy cap was exhausted.

Blood. So much blood. So much death. All her fault. Too much death…

“Forgive me, John,” she muttered. She did not have a weapon, but she did not need one. Neroon and Draal had trained her in hand-to-hand combat well enough. She struck out at John’s belly. His instincts warned him about the blow, but too late to block it. He stumbled, and she hit his neck. He fell, poleaxed. Delenn noticed something at his belt. It was her pike, the one Susan Ivanova had taken from her on Minbar, the one she had taken back from the future Susan Ivanova aboard Babylon 4, the one she had given to John in trust after they left Babylon 4.

The trust she had just betrayed.

She took the weapon from his belt, and saw a warrior standing above her. The warrior said just one word.

“Starkiller.”

“He is to be left here,” Delenn said. “Do you hear me? He is to be left here. I am Satai Delenn of the Grey Council, and I demand to be taken before the Council. This must end. Please, listen. This must end.”

Again the warrior said just one word.

“Zha’valen.”

Susan looked down at the defeated eyes of Lyta Alexander. The telepath had already accepted her death. Susan could see it. She was broken. She was finished.

Susan raised the pike. No more need to be afraid. No more waking in the middle of the night. No more hiding.

She looked at Marcus. He looked sick, desperate to do something, but unable to. The two Shadows formed a wall between him and Susan. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile…

Her head seemed to explode. She did not know if she actually screamed or if it was just in her mind, but she could feel the fear and the pain and the anguish all over again. It was a violation, an intimate sundering of a place she had only ever let her mother enter.

She screamed again, this time audibly. Lyta. But how…? The sleepers… Welles had assured her that… that… the Vorlon. The Vorlon!

She felt the pike drop from her nerveless fingers. She kept screaming, over and over again. She fell to her knees, screaming until the scream was the only thing in her existence.

She could feel the Shadows backing away. They were no more immune to telepathically induced pain than was she. Less so, if anything.

The pain ended – or she thought it did. Her scream certainly didn’t. She felt… numb, lifeless, unable to move or breathe or speak or do anything except scream…

And scream…

Nowhere is the Darkness greater than in the fortress of Light…

Deathwalker waited alone in the quarters she had prepared for this eventuality. She could feel the Shadows moving outside this ship. They would win. Of course they would.