Chapter 3

MINISTER Londo Mollari was not having a good day. His beloved wife Number One - Timov - was in an especially foul mood and trying her best to irritate everyone within several miles of her. Endeavouring to escape her caustic jibes and well-thrown jars, Londo had inadvertently stumbled across beloved wife Number Two - Daggair - who was clearly plotting something. He could practically see the little wheels turning in her head. Unable to cope with her obviously false smiles that still managed to hide whatever it was she was trying to hide, he had tried again to escape. He had heard that Daggair had been in meetings with that triple-damned harpy Lady Elrisia, and he shuddered to think what that was about. Great Maker, women shouldn't get themselves involved in politics. It never did anyone any good. And beloved wife Number Three - Mariel - was in her bedchamber, thinking, which was always a cause for concern. Women weren't put in this universe to think.
On top of that, First Minister Urza Jaddo was enclosed in private meetings with the Emperor - may the Great Maker enable everyone to remember his name. Turhan had been a great man, but his son was such a nonentity that few people even noticed him. Marrit was not actually that bad as Emperor, but when the best word you could give to the supreme ruler of the entire Centauri Republic was 'competent', then you were in trouble. Everyone remembered the great rulers, and everyone remembered the insane rulers, but no one ever cared about the competent ones.
Of course, with both the Prime Minister and the Emperor unavailable all day, Minister Mollari had become the subject for every groveller, parasite and hanger-on anywhere in the whole city, and that was quite a few people. After promising to speak to the Emperor on matters ranging from the taxes and import duties on spoo, to dissolving an unarranged marriage, to the Narn raiders attacking Centauri frontier worlds, to trying to force the Drazi traders who visited Centauri prime to speak in proper sentences for a change, Londo was quite ready to kill someone. Probably himself.
The day was nearly over, and his mood was growing worse. Bad as all these parasites were, they were infinitely preferable to his wives - one of whom he would have to return to that night. With a choice of getting brained by Timov, bathed by Daggair or burned by Mariel, suicide sounded a much more pleasurable option. After a while, he might even come to like it.
And then came one last visitor. He knew this one, although not in quite the same way as he knew the others. This was serious, and this was trouble.
"Mr. Cotto, is it not?" he said. "Yes, I remember you. So tell me, why did your lord and master send you all the way here from Minbar? Not just to swap the usual barrage of threats and insults, I believe?"
Vir was looking around slowly. This was a private audience chamber, and as such, empty except for the two guards standing looking bored by the door. "Uh-hum," Vir said, making slight, almost imperceptible gestures with his fingers.
Londo noticed them and almost groaned aloud. And he had thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse. "Get out of here!" he told the guards. "Go on! I am quite sure I can defend myself against any attacks. I was not called Paso Leati for nothing, you know. Besides, can you see this as an assassin? Pah!"
The guards looked at each other and shrugged. Then they left. Londo looked down at Vir, who still seemed preoccupied. "This room is not.... um.... bugged, is it? Or anything?"
"Of course not! This is an audience chamber. The only people who would bug a room like this would be the sort of people who would want to use it themselves. Besides, we check, in between each meeting. I take it that Lord Refa does not in fact know that you are here?"
"Not as such. Well, he knows I'm here of course, but not that I'm.... well.... here. Here as in speaking to you, of course, as opposed to here as in on Centauri Prime. If you get me."
"I don't," Londo snapped. "Please get to the point. I have had a long and tiring day. What news from our dear conspirator and spider G'Kar?"
"The.... um...." Vir was still looking around nervously. "You have heard of the attack on the human and Narn colony at Vega Seven?"
"Ah yes. There were quite a few members of the Centarum quite aggrieved that we did not do that ourselves. The Kha'Ri will of course not believe that we were not responsible?"
"I'm afraid not. It was the.... ah.... Enemy that G'Kar has been speaking about. The Minbari suspect this, but they are still a little disorganised following Branmer's death. They haven't got their own Rangers sorted out yet, leaving us to.... ah.... keep the torch burning so to speak. The Grey Council doesn't even know about G'Kar's little network of agents. At least, I don't think so."
"Vir! Of course they don't. If they did, then so would Lord Refa, and if he knew that I was giving highly confidential Centarum information to a Narn of all people to help fight an Enemy I am not even sure I believe in, then I would be very nastily dead."
"Ah, yes. Regarding Lord Refa. There may be some.... unpleasantness on that account. As I'm sure you know, the Grey Council has been itching for another strike at the humans for quite some time now. Only political in-fighting has prevented them from doing this. The predominant religious caste Satai named Delenn has gone missing - either abducted or defected with Captain Sheridan. That gives the warrior caste dominance in the Grey Council, and likely over the Rangers, and.... probably an invasion of Narn space to get at the humans."
"Oh, Great Maker! Not another war! I am still recovering from the last one."
"Exactly, and the.... um.... Kha'Ri are not going to sit idly by while the Minbari invade their space, and the Minbari would sort of.... um.... like our help. I was sent to discuss matters with the Emperor and the First Minister."
"Why did Refa not come himself? No, don't answer that. He knows that if he sets foot on Centauri Prime, he would have a life expectancy measured in minutes."
"That would be a trifle optimistic for him, I think."
"So, what does G'Kar want me to do about this?"
"First Minister Jaddo is not with us, I believe?"
"He rarely is. That was a joke, Vir." Vir obediently laughed. "No, to the best of my knowledge you and I are the only Centauri in G'Kar's little game."
"Well, G'Kar would like you to convince the Emperor and First Minister Jaddo to ah.... resist Minbari demands to go to war with the Narn. We cannot risk destabilising the whole area if the Enemy chooses to attack. There is little we can do about the Grey Council, and certainly not the humans, but if we refuse to lend our support to the Minbari, then they might reconsider."
"Or they might attack us instead. Vir, my relationship with Lord Refa is not good, as everyone except my beloved wife Timov is aware. Not to mention that the greatest problem is that harpy Refa married! Lady Elrisia is winding her claws into our little Emperor."
"But...."
"Vir, trust me! I will do what I can. Ah madness, why did I ever get involved with this?"
"Because you saw the big black ship just the same as G'Kar did, and he saved your life from it and...."
"Vir! It was a rhetorical question. Very well, get out of here. I will do what I can, and no more."
"Yes, Minister."
"Ah, Vir, wait a moment. What about this Sheridan? Is he likely to pose a problem to us at all?"
"Ah no. I think G'Kar has that matter covered."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Like Minister Londo Mollari, Captain John Sheridan was not having a good day. Unlike Minister Mollari, he only had one wife to worry about, not three, and Anna - thank God - was not here, probably drunk in some dive on Proxima 3. He was not in the garish elegance of the Centauri Royal Court, but in the barren wilderness of the G'Khorazhar Mountains. He was not armed, and while the Narn called Ta'Lon had not specifically called him a prisoner, Sheridan was aware that any attempt to go anywhere else - say back to G'Khamazad to gut that lying bitch Na'Toth - would lead to severe pain.
Sheridan was not planning to escape, however. That would be what they expected him to do, and he hadn't earned the title of Starkiller by doing what people expected of him. Besides, he had to admit that he was intrigued. Intrigued enough to try to restrain himself from slaughtering that Minbari warrior where he stood. He owed the Minbari too much pain to let this pass, but let it pass he did.
After being beaten senseless in Councillor Na'Toth's chambers, he had awoken in a small shuttle heading away from the city of G'Khamazad. Neroon, Ta'Lon and Marcus were the only other beings in the shuttle, and none of them was particularly talkative. Only Ta'Lon had spoken to him all day, when they had landed at a small military base at the foot of the G'Khorazhar Mountains.
"Councillor Na'Toth knows who ordered your betrayal," he had said. "Come with us and see Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar and listen to what he says. Maybe then Councillor Na'Toth will tell you."
And so he was doing just that, although more from a desire to see G'Kar than anything else. There were precious few people whose deeds were so great that their very names resounded throughout the galaxy.
Sheridan himself was one; Satai Delenn of the Grey Council; Satai Sinoval, also of the Grey Council and Warleader of the Wind Swords clan; Warmaster Jha'dur of the Dilgar, called Deathwalker, missing, presumed dead; General Richard 'Firestorm' Franklin, dead these past few years; and G'Kar, greatest Narn hero in their war with the Centauri, general and leader beyond peer, who had mysteriously resigned from the Kha'Ri as the war neared its bloody stalemate, and who had not been seen since. Despite fighting in that same war - on the side of the Narns - Sheridan had not met G'Kar, although he would very much have liked to.
As he finally reached the top of the pass that led down into the small valley, he realised he might never get the chance.
Narn bodies were scattered all around him, torn, dismembered and ravaged, destroyed by.... something that could not be human, or Narn, or Minbari.
Ta'Lon said something in Narn to Neroon, who nodded.
Sheridan spoke Narn, and he silently agreed with Ta'Lon. This was definitely not good.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Welles felt a faint surge of satisfaction as he looked at his prisoner. She was ill, ragged and torn, the fire that had raged so brilliantly in her eyes reduced to a mere ember. Seven days of interrogation, starvation and telepathic scans had managed to do this. She was the toughest, the most stubborn target he had ever been given, but he was winning at last, and in doing so he was helping the human race. The same race she had nearly destroyed.
He looked down at the notes before him. All other eight members of the Grey Council. Sinoval, Hedronn, Lennann - names, castes, details. Who would be a threat, who would not, who was likely to rise to power, who was likely to lead in a war against humanity. All detailed reports. A start, certainly. There were other matters to consider, troop deployments, numbers, army organisation, details about their technology, but these could wait. He had learned that the Grey Council had been violently in disagreement over the leadership of a secret army - the Rangers. What had Sheridan called them? 'Part warrior, part priest, part secret agent.' Their leadership was in doubt, and it would take a while for them to sort matters out. Hopefully long enough for him to uncover everything he - and humanity - needed.
There was a polite knock at the door, and it opened, without Welles saying anything. In stepped an attractive red-haired woman, wearing black gloves and a badge that spoke more of tradition and ritual than any real significance. Any meaning in Psi Corps had ended with Earth.
"Good morning, Miss Alexander," he said. "You are well, I trust?"
"Very well, thank you," she said, taking the seat Welles vacated and offered to her. The prisoner looked at her with eyes of pity.... and despair.
"Her shields should be considerably weaker this time. You may get quite a bit more information out of her," Welles was saying. "Don't worry about making sense of it - that's my job. Just get out as much as you can."
"Of course." Lyta Alexander removed her gloves and took - gently and without force - the hands of Satai Delenn. Welles watched as Lyta closed her eyes slowly, in concentration, and Delenn closed hers in despair.
"She's thinking about someone. A Minbari. One of these Rangers. He saved her life once and she.... she had feelings for him. It's funny, but you remind her of him. His name.... his name was Neroon. He left her, or she left him, or something. A bit of both, I think. They don't seem to regard relationships in the same way that we do."
Welles nodded, his flawless memory recording everything that Lyta said. He noticed the slumped anguish in Delenn's bearing.
"I can see the nine columns of light again," Lyta whispered. "The Grey Council, but.... it's a little different. It's the war, I think. Whoa! There's some kind of tactical display, but it's like nothing I've ever seen before. I can.... see it all around them. They're watching a battle. There're Starfuries everywhere. I.... I think it might be the Line, but I'm not sure. There don't seem to be any heavy ships at all.
"I.... Oh no.... it's Earth. They're destroying Earth. They're watching it die. Oh God, no! Everyone's dying.... everyone's dying.... I.... I can't watch."
"Please," Welles said. "Keep trying."
"There's.... Oh my God.... There's a Vorlon. She's seen one - a Vorlon! What they really look like. It's.... oh.... it's so beautiful.... and so bright and so.... oh!"
"A Vorlon? What are they doing there?"
"A.... it's a bargain of some kind. The Vorlons know about the Rangers.... even help them a little. Not much, but a little. They.... they wanted something in return. A man.... a human.... a name.... Valen. And.... oh.... it's so beautiful. Kosh.... that's its name. Kosh. The Vorlon's called Kosh. He.... that's impossible. I'm not alone here. Kosh.... Kosh knows I'm here. But how? How? Oh.... so.... beautiful!"
Lyta's head snapped back and her eyes opened. They were rolled back into her head. She swayed and fell from her chair. Welles rushed forward to catch her. She was still, and for a moment he was afraid that whatever she had seen had killed her. She moved, however, and managed to haul herself back into the chair.
"That was.... that was.... incredible," Lyta whispered. "The Vorlon.... it was so.... so...."
"You saw the Battle of the Line?" he asked. Lyta nodded. "She was there? She was definitely there?"
"Yes. She was guiding things. Not quite a leader, but something similar."
"Right. Thank you, Miss Alexander. You can try to work out exactly what it was you saw, and then deliver a full report to me whenever you're ready. Mr. Cutter, please escort Miss Alexander back to her quarters." Cutter nodded, and there was a gleam in his eye that said he wouldn't mind escorting Miss Alexander into her quarters as well.
Welles sat back in his chair and looked at Delenn. He yawned and stretched. He hadn't slept for over a day. Delenn hadn't slept for very much longer.
"Sleep deprivation," he said. "It's one of our oldest interrogation devices. You become.... disorientated, disturbed, possibly even hallucinate. Of course, it's difficult to guarantee that you never fall asleep, so that chair you are sitting in is especially treated. With a flick of this button," - he made an exaggerated motion of flicking a switch next to him on the wall - "we start a programme of random electric shocks through that chair. None large enough to be fatal, or even much more than an irritant." Delenn started and gasped. "They come at random intervals, between one and five minutes in length. They will of course, prevent you from sleeping, or concentrating long enough to meditate properly. Unfortunately, I am afraid that I need to sleep, and so I will have to go and rest. Mr. Boggs? I trust you. Keep her safe, and keep her in that chair. Don't hurt her unless it is absolutely necessary, and call me if there is a problem."
Security Officer Boggs nodded.
Welles rose from his seat and made his way to the door. As he reached it, Delenn spoke. "The word you tried to avoid saying.... was.... torture," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse.
"Were this your capital, and I in your place, would I be any better off than you?" he asked coldly. She nodded her head, and then cried out as another shock hit her.
"Think of it this way, Satai Delenn. If you do not sleep, then you cannot dream. I wish that were true of me. A pleasant rest, Satai Delenn. Mr. Boggs."
And then he was gone. Delenn looked up at her sole guardian and almost wept at his quiet impassivity. She remembered how he had hurt her, beating and kicking her. He had enjoyed it, but he had not done so for that alone. He had done so for the good of his people. He only wanted to serve his people and his home.
Valen's Name, she thought. What have we created? What have I done?

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Ta'Lon knelt beside the body and looked at it slowly, studying the horrific damage. Rising, he looked around at the others, scattered and ravaged. He was silent. Standing beside him, Neroon was whispering something about Valen. Marcus was hunched over, retching loudly. And Sheridan.... he was simply standing, dumbfounded. It reminded him of Vega 7, but not even the deaths there had touched him like these. These bodies had been torn apart, literally ripped almost limb from limb. Sheridan had little fondness for Narns, but nobody deserved this, not even Minbari.
"What could have done this?" Marcus asked. He looked pale.
"You should know," replied Neroon. He had extended his fighting pike - similar to the one Susan had taken from Delenn. "You've seen them before."
"The black ship? The ship that screamed?"
"More or less." Ta'Lon was still looking around warily. "This was one of their servants. A Warrior, I think."
Without saying anything further, he and Neroon began walking quickly towards the small compound that nestled at the head of the valley, looking like a cross between a temple and a castle. Sheridan knew this was where G'Kar lived, and ran his collection of agents.
Was this the work of Susan's friends? Of humanity's last hope? Why would they...? No, this was an internal matter, them against G'Kar. They wouldn't turn against humanity. What reason would they have to do that?
Still, Susan had said that her friends were moving slowly, anxious not to turn attention to themselves. Was G'Kar really so much of a threat that they would risk alerting to others to their presence like this?
Sheridan took out his PPG and began running to catch up with Neroon and Ta'Lon. Marcus was beside him, his expression of disgust and terror replaced with a cold anger. Perhaps Neroon and Ta'Lon were right, and Marcus had seen these creatures before, at Vega 7.
Too many questions, and not enough answers. There were never enough answers.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Commander David Corwin was irritated. He did not like Narns, he did not like their homeworld and he did not like hanging around on the Babylon. He had been doing far too much of that recently, just hanging around while the Captain was off somewhere.
This was worse than usual, however. The Captain had not been heard from in over a day. He hadn't responded when Corwin had tried to make his daily report. Councillor Na'Toth had simply said that Sheridan had left G'Khamazad on an intelligence mission, and that he would return in a few days. Corwin wasn't sure if he trusted her, but he was wise enough not to say that to her face, even over a commscreen. He was keeping a close eye out for any sign of Minbari cruisers, but the only traffic had been usual Narn stuff. He had also sent small teams down to the planet to try to investigate. He'd heard back from none of them yet.
"Commander!" spoke up Lieutenant Franklin. "There's a private message for you. It's from Miss Ivanova."
"Susan!" She hadn't been heard of since yesterday either. If Corwin ran to the ready room a little faster than was safe or appropriate for one of his rank, no one commented on it. What had been between him and Susan was over, right? It had ended when she died.
He slid into his seat in the ready room and activated the viewscreen. Susan's face stared out at him. He resisted an urge simply to gaze into her beauty and focussed on what he had to say. This was important. It concerned the Captain.
"What's been happening?" he asked. "Councillor Na'Toth said...."
"Whatever Councillor Na'Toth said, it was probably a lie," Susan interjected. "I don't know what happened, but she set John up. He's no longer in G'Khamazad, I'm certain of it, but I know he's alive."
"You know? How?"
"I...." She looked pained. "I can't go into it. I just know. I'll try to track him down. I don't think there are any Minbari involved this time. It's probably something political with the Kha'Ri. Maybe they aren't willing to shelter us any more. Don't worry, David, I'll do what I can. Please don't come down. You're safe up there. You won't be safe down here."
"Susan! I.... Be careful."
She smiled. "Thank you. You too. I'll keep in contact as often as I can. Out."
Susan switched off her commscreen and looked around her in anger and sorrow. Beside her, a shadow moved.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

G'Kar knew that he was dying, that the Enemy had come for him at last. He could have asked questions, about how they had found him, about how they knew about him, about why he was still alive, but questions were pointless at the moment. What mattered was survival, not just his own, but the survival of all he had built.
He fingered his wound gently and gingerly. He seemed to be getting older. A small injury like this had never hurt him back when he was fighting the Centauri. Or had it? Was a war of attrition like that preferable to a silent, secret war like this?
"G'Quan guide me," he whispered, as he ducked into the shadows of his spartan room. The Book of G'Quan lay on the table across the room. He looked at it longingly and began to whisper the words found within.
"There is a greater darkness than the one we fight...." He had wounded the beast, he knew that. That was why he was still alive. He had dropped the knife somewhere, during his flight. The beast, it could be anywhere. He had recognised it from its brief moment of visibility as one of the servants of the Enemy, spoken of by G'Quan.
There was a sound outside the door, and he looked around desperately for any sign of a weapon. His rooms were almost bare. Where was his ally? The Vorlon was around somewhere, but never when needed. Surely G'Lan had sensed the arrival of his old enemy? Unless he could not interfere. Yes, maybe that was it. Maybe this was a test for G'Kar, a trial to see whether he was worthy to face the Enemy.
There was a shimmering as the beast came through the walls, and he rolled aside, wincing at the pain from his wound. He could dimly make out the outline of the Shadow Warrior. It had no long-range weapons, that was something to be thankful for, at least. G'Kar had hope. He always had hope.
Grasping for the candles, he pulled one down. It was still lit. A poor weapon, but all he had. Thrusting forward with it, he forced the beast back. It issued a hideous roar. He looked up at its abominable form and whispered a silent prayer to G'Quan.
It didn't work. The candle broke and fell, the little light it gave failing. G'Kar tried to halt his lunge forward, but it was too late. The beast caught him and ripped into his side. An anguished cry of pain was torn from his lips as he was thrown backwards, his back smashing against the stone table. Collapsed on the floor, he looked up.
There was the sound of PPG fire, and a cry in the name of Valen, and of G'Quan. G'Kar smiled. His prayer had been answered after all.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Satai Delenn was lost in days past, remembering the war, remembering her cry. 'Kill them! Kill them all!' Remembering the light in Neroon's eyes die as he left her side. Remembering the wisdom in Draal's speech. Remembering....
She gasped as another shock hit her. Looking up, she saw Boggs, standing there silently. He was enjoying her pain, but he did not show it. Delenn grasped the edge of the table and tried to suck in air. Her breathing was harsh and ragged.
She slipped back into the past.
"I have seen things," Neroon had said. "I nearly died there. I was alone and afraid, and thinking of you. Thinking of the third night of sleep watching, thinking of...."
Another shock, but too soon surely? Could she keep track of time? Could she even remember time any longer? Did it matter?
"G'Kar spoke to me. He said things. It made sense. He knows about the Enemy, Delenn. He knows, and he is making preparations. I always thought that we were the only ones who could fight the war that is coming. I was wrong. G'Kar is building his own army, his own agents and spies. His own Rangers even. Most are Narns, but there are a few others - Drazi mainly, but even an Earther or two, and a few Centauri.
"Delenn, how can everything I believed in be so wrong? He knows, he understands. His writings, the Book of G'Quan.... they have known for a millennium. I always thought that we alone were fit to lead the war. I was wrong.
"Delenn, I will join him. My life was saved by one of his agents and I must repay the debt. His words have touched me, and I feel a calling to his side, to serve him. It is a calling, Delenn. I have spoken to Branmer, and he understands. Please, Delenn, tell me that you do."
"I...." She had been unsure of what to say, what to do. "My place is here."
"I know," had come his whispered reply. "I know."
Another gasp. She was so tired, so very tired. She could not find the peace for meditation. All she wanted to do was sleep. What had Welles said? 'At least you will be spared dreams.' He had been wrong. So very wrong.
It had been a bargain, a simple bargain. One human life. What did that one life matter? Why that one? It had not been important, the Vorlon had said. It had not mattered. She had needed to be sure before she went to the Grey Council. She had needed to be sure, and so the Vorlon had shown himself to her. Her doubts had receded, but now they returned.
One human life against so many. How much blood? How many dead? Why did the Vorlons want that life?
The other half of our soul. Sheridan and Sinoval.... so very alike. Welles.... how much he looked like Neroon - his voice, his face, his bearing. Sheridan and Sinoval, like a mirror. A dark, distorted mirror. The other half of our soul.... humans? No, that was impossible. A blasphemy.
But she had been about to test it. She had taken a Triluminary, only now that was lost too. So much lost, and nothing more lost than she herself. How many dead? How many lost? How many?
The other half of my soul. Neroon? Was he the other half of my soul? Who? Why did she not understand? Who? What? Too many questions and not even she had the answers.
Valen help me. Valen.... I will not allow harm to come to my little ones, not here in my great house.... Valen's Name.... the other half of my soul.... Sheridan and Sinoval.... not here in my great house.... the other half of my soul.... Minbari not born of Minbari.... the other half of my soul.... here in my great house.... my soul.... not born of Minbari.... my great house....
As another shock tore through Delenn's body, her mind reached a realisation that both terrified and disgusted her. She knew. Oh, Valen, she knew, at last.
A Minbari not born of Minbari.... In my great house.... the other half of my soul.
Valen was human!

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sheridan had never seen a beast like that before, huge and dark and only faintly visible. He remembered something else, something equally dark and almost invisible, that had struck down Delenn. It had been a different shape - less humanoid - but it had been similar. All too similar.
The thought faded and he saw only battle. His initial PPG blasts had little effect on the creature, but they were serving to distract it from the Narn who lay, bleeding, on the floor. G'Kar? Almost certainly. The beast turned to face Sheridan, and he caught a sudden, frantic glimpse of his own mortality. It was a terrifying moment, but one he had known countless times before in battle.
The beast lunged forward, and he fired. Again the blasts had no effect, and his legs coiled, ready to propel him out of the way. He had not guessed how fast the thing would be. It smashed into his side and knocked him back. He stumbled, and the PPG fell from his grasp. Abandoning the weapon for the moment, he rolled away and staggered to his feet.
The beast was ignoring him. His back and side were unguarded. It could have torn him apart, but it didn't. It lunged at Neroon and Ta'Lon, neither of whom had long-range weaponry. Neroon lashed out with that metal pike of his, and Sheridan heard an audible crack as it hit the creature. For a moment it seemed fazed, and Ta'Lon leapt in, striking with his sword, thrusting it into what would be its chest.
Casually disdaining the wound, the beast clawed out at Ta'Lon, lifting him effortlessly into the air and hurling him back. The Narn struck the far wall, and tried to stagger to his feet. Neroon hit out again with his pike, but the blow had little effect.
Sheridan blinked, and his warrior instincts returned. Looking around frantically, he saw his PPG and scooped it up. Turning to face the beast, he unleashed a barrage of shots at desperately close range. There was a sound that might have been a cry of pain, and the beast turned.
Neroon used this opportunity to lash out, striking the beast with his pike, again and again. Sheridan dived under flailing - well, he assumed they were arms - and staggered to his feet behind Neroon, luring the beast into a position where Neroon would be able to strike its chest.
PPG blasts, thrusts, lunges and blows. The beast was falling back. Neroon was following up, but compared to the beast he might have been made out of wood.
There was a blur of motion, and Neroon fell. It looked as though he was bleeding. Sheridan was fumbling with the energy cap of his PPG, and he looked up as the beast towered over Neroon. Acting on pure instinct, never caring that this was a Minbari, he dropped his PPG and scooped up Neroon's pike. Looking up at the beast, which still seemed vaguely reluctant to attack him, he thrust out with the pike.
The beast roared and tumbled backwards. Sheridan looked at the pike in mute horror, and found it stained with what he could only suppose was blood. He looked down and saw the beast, for one, hideous moment, in full visibility.
He was nearly sick.
Others had different concerns. Ta'Lon pulled himself up from the floor, wincing at every movement. The force of the impact had undoubtedly shattered bones, but he seemed to pay them no attention.
"Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar!" he cried out, and half-ran, half-staggered forward. Neroon was also rising and looking to G'Kar. As did Sheridan.
The fallen Narn was not moving, not even breathing.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"You don't know it failed. G'Kar might be dead. He might never recover. Sheridan? Yes, I know.... look.... he's a warrior. He's trained to fight, so of course he'd fight the Warrior. No.... no.... he can still be a valuable ally to us. He is still a valuable ally. It's just curiosity, that's all. He wants to know who betrayed him on Vega Seven.
"I'll see to G'Kar, if he's still alive, and I'll arrange matters with Sheridan. Trust me? No, you mustn't act personally. There's a Vorlon around, remember. Yes, I know! Don't worry. Everything's under control."
Susan Ivanova looked down at the mass of bodies that decorated the pass leading to the temple of G'Kar, where perhaps its sovereign prince lived, and perhaps he didn't.
The Shadows had come to Narn.