Chapter 2

IF Captain John Sheridan had been told a year ago of where he would be today, he would have laughed, and refused to believe. Then, he had been a loyal defender of humanity, last hope against the Minbari, fearless captain of the EAS Babylon. Everything had seemed so simple. Of course, his daughter Elizabeth was dead, and his wife Anna was drinking herself into a stupor most nights, but he at least knew who he was and why he was doing what he was doing.
But then he'd set in at Vega 7 for repairs to the Babylon, he'd been betrayed by Administrator Na'Far and captured by Minbari, he'd been met in a Minbari cell by Susan Ivanova, he'd escaped from Minbar, capturing Satai Delenn in the process, and everything had fallen completely apart.
Everything from his mission to Narn, to his freeing of Satai Delenn from Mr. Welles' interrogation, to the whole Epsilon 3 / G'Kar scenario and the very strange Babylon 4 encounter afterwards.... everything seemed strangely unreal to him. As if this were all a dream. He would wake up and find he was back on Earth - just him and Anna and Elizabeth, and they'd be in his father's garden with the smell of orange blossom all around them, and they'd be having the life they should have had, the life they would have had if the Minbari had stopped before they came to Earth.
But then he woke up, and he realised that Elizabeth was still dead, Anna was still a stranger to him, Earth was gone and all his family and memories with it, and he was here, on board the Babylon, looking at a giant cocoon.
Delenn had called it a chrysalis, of course, but that made him none the wiser. He found himself absurdly thinking of her emerging as a butterfly, with wings and everything. He wasn't really certain what she was going to emerge as, save that she was hoping it would bring their two races closer together. That was a fool's dream as far as he was concerned, but she believed, and the fiery belief in her eyes almost made him believe as well.
Almost.
Sheridan did not believe in prophecy, or in destiny, or in happy endings. When he thought about peace between human and Minbari, all he could see was the Black Star, or the Minbari fleets massing over Mars, or Satai Sinoval in the Hall of the Grey Council, and he knew that this would only end in blood. Perhaps when Minbar had gone the same way as Earth, maybe then things would be at peace, but he doubted it.
So why was he here, watching a cocoon that contained the woman who had led the war against his people? Why was he lighting candles set in positions he did not understand? Why was he here when he should be running his ship? Why was he following the words of a prophecy he did not believe in?
Why? Because he believed in her. He had been privileged in his life to know certain people around whom everything turned, people who could command respect and authority with their mere presence. He supposed that he himself was one of those people, although he certainly did not feel like one. He remembered General Richard 'Firestorm' Franklin, with such force of presence and an almost tangible aura. He remembered his first CO - Captain Jack Maynard - with his almost inexhaustible fount of knowledge and sayings and stories. He remembered his father, a diplomat of many years, whose softly spoken voice had addressed emperors, leaders and prophets, and he remembered his mother, whose firmly spoken words had maintained order over two very mischievous children.
All of them were now dead, but Delenn wasn't. She was no military leader, and he did not suppose she was a diplomat. From what he understood of the Minbari caste structure, he knew her to be a priestess. Yet she held the same sense of presence that had characterised all the great military leaders and diplomats he had ever known. And she had more. She believed. She really, honestly believed in the rightness and the justice of her cause.
Sheridan believed in nothing these days, and so he latched on to her belief like a drowning man gasping for air. And so he waited for her. He suspected that beneath the air of certainty there was a tinge of doubt. Delenn had not been sure of what this would do to her, for all that she acted as if she was. And so, as part payment for all the words of comfort she had given him, he was waiting for her.
She had said it would take several days, perhaps even a fortnight. She had been in there for five days so far. He had barely eaten or drunk, but he had gone days without food or water in the past, and hunger had ceased to bother him. Her movements from within the chrysalis had stopped three days ago, and he could not see her through its thin strands any longer.
He was waiting. Commander Corwin understood even less about this than Sheridan did, but he respected his CO, and had ensured that nothing reached him, not even the news of Anna's attempted visit - an event which, if Sheridan had known about it, might have prevented all the tragedy that later came. But at the time he was isolated and still, and strangely at peace.
It wasn't to last. Nothing ever did. He understood this, but even so, he was still a little irritated when his link activated and Corwin's voice came through it.
"I'm really sorry about this, sir," he said, "but there's a Gold Channel transmission from Vice President Clark, sir. I've tried telling him you're indisposed, but he wants to talk with you immediately. He says it's urgent."
"I understand. Thank you, David. I'll take the message in my office." He looked at the chrysalis again. He had promised Delenn he would be here for her, but he wouldn't be gone long. Even if he had to go down to the planet, he would only be a few hours. He'd be back in plenty of time.
"I won't be long," he told the chrysalis. "I'm sorry. I won't be long."
Sheridan left the room and locked the door with his own personal access code. He turned to the two security guards on duty. "No one but Commander Corwin is to go into this room until I get back. If anyone tries, lock them in the brig."
Of necessity Delenn's quarters, which were supposed to be her cell - despite the fairly comfortable furnishings - were far from the actual bridge and his office at the front of the ship, and so it was a long walk. If he walked a little slower than usual, then that was definitely unintentional. He didn't like Clark, but that was no reason to irritate him, right? At least, that was what he told himself.
When he reached his office, he stood before the communications panel and activated the Gold Channel message. Clark's face appeared on the screen. He did not look happy.
"You took your time, Captain Sheridan," he snapped.
"I'm sorry, Vice President," he said. "I've been busy with inspections and so forth. We want to make sure the ship is ready for when the Minbari come."
"Our early warning probes have picked up no sign of Minbari activity yet. We have at least twelve hours of opportunity."
"Believe me, Vice President, that's not nearly long enough."
"We'll see, and I'm sure the Babylon can run without you for a few hours. We have a Centauri diplomat here to discuss a possible mutual defence alliance, and he would very much like to see you...."
"Vice President, I am very busy here. I am sure he will get by without seeing me...."
"He insists that is not possible, Captain, and I would remind you that you serve the wishes of this Government. If we can complete this treaty with the Centauri then we may not even have to fight the Minbari at all."
"Vice President, I've fought both the Minbari and the Centauri, and I'm telling you, a Minbari fleet could go through anything the Centauri send to help us like a hot knife through butter. And if they don't, then the Narns will likely sell us all out to the Minbari and scrap your early warning probes, as well as all the other equipment they sold us."
"We shall see, Captain. The fact of the matter is, your presence is requested on Proxima as soon as possible, and you will have to be here."
Sheridan swore silently. "I will be there, Vice President." The signal ended, and he stepped backwards, sitting on his desk, thinking. A Centauri, here? In what was technically Narn space, with Narns in and out of Proxima all the time - well, more out than in at the moment. But why would a Centauri come this far into a war zone? The Minbari could arrive at any moment - he didn't exactly trust any early warning probes - so why would a Centauri noble risk being caught in the crossfire, let alone risk being beaten to death by a Narn?
Questions. Always too many questions, and never enough answers.
He swore again, and made preparations for Delenn while he was on Proxima. He wouldn't be gone long anyway. A few hours at best. Yes, that would be all.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Secret meetings and clandestine plots were practically compulsory behaviour among the nobility on Centauri Prime these days. Emperor Marrit was well-meaning, competent, polite and sincere, a combination that meant it would probably have been easier if he had just painted a large target on his forehead and walked in front of a firing squad.
There were many who said that Marrit was not half the man his father had been, and those complaints were true, but the point was that Turhan had been a great leader for the early part of his reign. He had pulled the Centauri out from the whole Narn nightmare with less loss of face, chaos and loss of life than many would have thought possible, and his dealings with other governments, especially the rising power of the Earth Alliance, had brought the Centauri new hope for a reconstruction and a possible renaissance of power.
But Turhan, like so many great leaders, had lived too long. He had grown old and frail and his court had slipped away from him. The Centauri's most powerful allies - the Earth Alliance - had been ripped apart and reduced to less than a fragment. When the Centauri had been unable to assist that fragment, they had turned to the Narns for help, help which had been given gladly, if not freely.
And then came the war with the Narns, and the Centauri's renaissance had started, much to the surprise of everyone in the galaxy, not least the Narns, who found out that their mighty war machine was not as mighty as they thought.
Turhan had died during the war and his son had succeeded to the throne, but as a figurehead and nothing more. With all attention focussed on the war, a small coalition of nobles had been able to rise to power and guide the Centauri back to greatness. Through skilled use of diplomacy, military tactics and the same strategies of attrition that the Narn had employed against them, Londo Mollari, Urza Jaddo and Antono Refa had managed to guide the Centauri through the war. Yes, it had ended in bloody stalemate, but at least the Centauri were still free, and rebuilding.
And then the hammers had started to fall. Londo Mollari had seen something at the end of the war that he would not talk about to anyone. He had been sent out on a diplomatic mission to the Drazi that was attacked by Narns, and he disappeared for over a week. Upon his return he was distracted and vague, and suffered from increasing nightmares. Urza Jaddo had become focussed on the Emperor, and on finding a way to end the war and improve matters at home. And Antono Refa.... he had become lost in the dreams of power, guided no doubt by his fair lady wife, Elrisia. Urza and Refa soon found themselves at opposite ends of the political spectrum, and the whole of the Centarum came close to open war. Forced, somewhat against his will, to choose sides, Londo had allied with his old friend Urza, but he was clearly not happy about it. Refa had too many allies for him to be got rid of permanently, however, and so he was dispatched to Minbar, out of the way. Urza became the Emperor's First Minister, and Londo.... was left to complete his own agenda.
But somewhere between Refa's banishment and the present, events had slipped from the control of the Three Who Rule - Marrit, Urza and Londo. Marrit, still unmarried, was finding himself drawn increasingly under the influence of Lady Elrisia, who was enmeshed in some sort of deal with Londo's wives Mariel and Daggair. Several powerful nobles had died mysteriously of natural causes. Marrit was growing more and more divorced from reality and a number of Turhan's nephews and cousins were emerging from the woodwork and taking stronger rôles in Centauri power politics.
And then there were the Narns. The recent attack on the Narn-won colony at Ragesh 3 had sparked the whole business with them up again. No one seemed to have ordered this attack, and no one seemed to mind that the Centauri had been beaten away. That did not matter, and if the Narns did attack then, well.... the Centauri had beaten them before.... the Centauri would beat them again.
And while Centauri Prime was set to burst into flames, Emperor Marrit sat alone, captivated by the noble lady Elrisia, Urza Jaddo was preoccupied with personal matters, and Londo Mollari.... had affairs of his own to deal with....
Londo hated poetry. He hated Minbari. He really hated Minbari poetry. The only reason he was sitting through a recital of Minbari keela poetry was for the simple reason that it was the one place where none of his wives would be found. (Timov had no patience for this sort of thing, Mariel was too busy scheming and not even Daggair could find anything nice to say about the stuff.) Oh yes, Londo was here for another reason as well. The poet.
He'd never met Shaal Lennier before, but the personal, coded message he'd received the day before alerted him to the fact that coming here would be a good idea. There will be nine shadows over Lis House tomorrow. Londo hated codes, and he thought he'd given up this tedious plotting business years ago, but the word 'shadow' meant that he could not. This was important. This was connected to G'Kar.
Many times when performing duties for G'Kar, Londo wondered why he was doing this. If he were caught, then he would be in very big trouble. Political scheming was one thing - betraying highly confidential secrets and altering official government policy on the say-so of a Narn would lead to nothing less than his immediate and very painful execution.
But whenever he asked himself why, he remembered the big ship, the one that screamed in his mind, the one that had nearly killed him, the one that he dreamed about every night of his life, flying over Centauri Prime. And he remembered G'Kar, the Narn who had saved him, the Narn who had attacked his ship in the first place. The two had been trapped alone on a barren world, both their ships destroyed. At first G'Kar had been spitting words of hatred, and Londo had been afraid, remembering the vision of his death and recognising G'Kar from it. But then they had seen the ship, and G'Kar had sworn in the name of G'Quan. He had sat down, and he had spoken to Londo, he had spoken of an Ancient Enemy and a dead world called Z'ha'dum, he had spoken of the Book of G'Quan and of a darkness sweeping over the land. Londo had, more out of fear than interest, listened to G'Kar and he had slowly understood, caught up in the Narn's fear and determination. The two had parted as each was rescued by his own people, but as the war ended, Londo began tracking the Narn's movements, more out of interest than revenge. And when a Minbari had come to his quarters in the middle of the night and spoken about G'Kar and asked for a favour, Londo had listened, and agreed.
Now he was a part of G'Kar's little conspiracy. Londo was not sure that he believed in the Ancient Enemy or in Narn prophecy, but he remembered that ship, and his dreams, and his death vision. Perhaps he could prevent that death vision - of him and G'Kar strangling each other on the steps of the Imperial Throne - by working with G'Kar. Perhaps, but he didn't know.
And so he was waiting here, listening to poetry he could barely stand, drinking lukewarm brivare and looking at the poet's small brooch, fashioned in the shape of a circle of light, with a black sword in the centre. Londo wore a similar design - a clasp at the neck of his jacket. Thus did the followers of G'Kar know each other.
The poem finished, for which Londo was eternally grateful, and several Centauri went up to congratulate Shaal Lennier. Minbari things were becoming fashionable in the Imperial Court these days - Minbari fashions, Minbari customs and especially Minbari poetry. Londo overheard several Centauri ladies propose assignations to the poet which would make anyone else blush profusely and back away. The poet merely smiled and nodded.
Afterwards, Londo made a personal request for Shaal Lennier to entertain him and his wives in private. Lennier had considered the matter and agreed, out of a desire for politeness and improving relations, of course. Londo felt a brief surge of glee at forcing Timov, Mariel and Daggair to sit through some of this appalling rubbish. Besides, it would at least set their minds working as to what he was up to, and they were bound to look in the wrong direction. And so, Shaal Lennier had accepted a journey to Minister Londo Mollari's personal palace for a private audience.
No sooner were they in Londo's personal transport - designed for status, show, soundproofing and not at all for little things like comfort or speed - than Londo spoke up.
"Well, then? What news from G'Kar?"
"None recently, I am afraid," Lennier replied, after a slow and steady look around. "I do have news from Ambassador Refa, however, or more correctly news from his aide."
"Mr. Cotto, yes. I have had some dealings with him."
"Ambassador Refa is apparently going on a mission to the humans' power centre at Proxima Three. A mission of.... diplomacy.... to discuss the human / Centauri alliance."
"What?!" Londo bellowed. He then stopped and looked around. Of course, there were no windows, and the transport was completely soundproof. Not even the driver could hear them, but still.... when he continued, he kept his voice down. "That was my treaty. I arranged everything at G'Kar's behest. And now you are telling me that that.... that.... imbecile is on a diplomatic mission. How.... no, do not tell me. Lord Jarno. He would arrange everything for his good and dear friend, Refa - to whom he owes a substantial fortune in gambling debts. And Lord Jarno's beloved wife - I thank the Great Maker that it was Lord Jarno who married her and not me - is a close friend of our dear Lady Elrisia - the only lady on the planet who is even worse - and who has her claws wrapped around our little Emperor. Yes, I see where this has gone. Thank you for this information. Things are slipping away from me too fast here. I think a word with my good friend Urza might be in order. Is that all you have to tell me, or should I just hack my head off now?"
"No, there is more, but...." Lennier seemed distracted. "Is that smell common to this mode of transport?"
"What smell? I smell nothing unusual."
"It is a gas," he said. "In the paromide range, I believe. I can only just smell it."
Londo's eyes widened. "What? Paromide garadine. Oh, Great Maker." He banged on the commpanel. "Driver, stop now!" There was no reply. "Driver! Oh, Great Maker, why hast thou abandoned me?"
"It is poisonous?"
"Very." Londo began battering at the doors but they refused to open. "Fortunately I provided an escape route," he muttered. Fumbling beneath his chair with his left hand, his right arm covering his mouth and nose, he pulled a lever and the top of the transport opened. Scrambling up on to the chair, he hauled his way up. The transport was not going very fast, but it was still fast enough to provide some serious injuries if he jumped off.
Lennier also scrambled out from the top of the transport. "We can escape from here?"
"Oh well," Londo muttered. "I wasn't using all my limbs anyway."
He jumped off and closed his eyes. The impact with the ground, when it came, was less jarring than he had been expecting, but his leg twisted badly as he landed, and he was reduced to leaning against the side of a tree. Whose idea was it to build his palace so far out in the country? Oh yes, his. Lennier landed fine, without any discomfort at all.
Londo muttered something under his breath about Minbari as he watched the transport fade away into the night. That transport had cost him a fortune, and he doubted he'd see it again.
"The driver has been suborned, it seems."
"Something like that. Paromide garadine gas. Odourless, tasteless and a slow acting poison. And very expensive, too. I sense the hand of my dear Lady Elrisia in all this. I think that word with Urza had better come soon. The sooner the better. This has gone far enough, I think."
"I'm inclined to agree."
"Ah!" Londo swore. "I will have to call Timov for transportation to my house. Bah! She will love this."
"Your wife?"
"One of them. Take my advice, and never get married. No good will ever come of it, you'll see. Bah! Why did I ever get involved in this whole thing? I should have become an insurance salesman."
"I am sorry? What is.... insurance?"
"Never mind. You really do not want to know. Really, you do not."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Susan Ivanova had always found the fine art of diplomacy an annoying irritation at best, but she had learned to live with it, diplomacy having become a vital part of her new life. She found she infinitely preferred working behind the scenes to out in the open however, which was why she was not present at Lord Refa's little meeting with Captain Sheridan and the Resistance Government, and why she was instead making for the quarters of an old friend.
Marcus was with her, as always. It was possible to get around his almost constant surveillance of her, but she had been doing that a lot lately and he was growing suspicious. Besides, when he wasn't watching her, she couldn't be watching him either.
But when she received a linked message she realised that she would have to act sooner than she had anticipated. Marcus was more than just charming company at the moment, he was turning into a real threat. She had things to do, and he was standing in her way. She hadn't planned on doing this for a while yet, but she'd learned to seize an opportunity when she was given it.
For the best part of a year that Minbari whore had been standing in her way. It wasn't enough that she'd destroyed Susan's planet, killed her brother and her father, and all her hopes for the future. No, it was because of her that Susan was forced into going against Captain Sheridan. She liked Sheridan, she admired him. In a very strange way he reminded her of her father. And she had grown to like Sheridan's wife, Anna. She'd first made contact with Anna as part of a short-term scheme for Anna to kill Delenn and be rid of an obstacle with no blood on her own hands, but in the process of doing so, she had come to like her, and to share in her hopes and dreams. She hoped that Sheridan would come to his senses one day and get back with Anna. She pondered the possibility and had actually managed to entwine that hope into her plans.
And then there was Marcus. She had seen him around before, always following Captain Sheridan, but then the good captain had assigned him permanently to her side. Ostensibly Marcus was her diplomatic aide and bodyguard. In reality, he was a spy, but given that she knew this - a handy, almost invisible tracking and listening device she'd implanted inside Sheridan ensured she knew almost everything that was going on, or at least she had until it had stopped working a few months ago - he only discovered what she was too lazy to prevent him discovering.
But he was still an irritant, so why hadn't she got rid of him? She was surprised by the depth of her feelings for him. Her first efforts at seduction had been little more than attempts to get him on her side. She had not expected to find such innocence, however, and she had certainly not expected to find such emotion in him. He.... intrigued her, but he also reminded her a little of the way her brother Ganya had been before Psi Corps took their mother.
The Shadows didn't like this, of course. They were all for killing him, but she had resisted, and as everything was going along the lines of their plan, then what did it matter?
And now she'd been given a window of opportunity. Not a very large one, and there were a few things she had to do first, but.... if she timed this right, she could kill Delenn, make certain that any sympathy Delenn might hold amongst the people on board the Babylon was destroyed for good, and try and get Anna and John back together.
A simple enough trick, but first she had to get rid of Marcus.
"I thought you were going to see a friend," he said, evidently noticing their detour. "This is the way to the Detention Centre."
"I am," she said. "I just need to talk to someone there first. Mr. Welles has been talking about added security for me, or something, and he wanted me to go and discuss the matter with him. It won't take long."
"And the message you got over the link?" The one she'd made damned sure he hadn't heard, despite his efforts to do so.
"That was from Mr. Welles, letting me know where I could find him."
"Ah." He didn't believe her, but she didn't mind. Oh Marcus, you'll understand in time. It's all her fault. That Minbari....
Morishi was on the desk as he usually was and he let her past without questioning. Susan Ivanova was one of the few people with free run of the entire Main Dome. It was wonderful what a Vice President with a Keeper would do.
Susan absently reached out and took Marcus' hand in hers. He started, but did not move his hand away. She smiled. She wondered if Captain Sheridan suspected she would have this result. Well, to be sure, there wasn't really anyone else Sheridan could send here. David? He was still too tongue-tied around her to do anything. Everyone on board the Babylon was too noticeably connected with Sheridan, and everyone knew it. No, Marcus was the ideal choice, but still.... sometimes she wished her transmitter inside Sheridan was still working. He must have discovered it somehow, and had it removed, and he wasn't letting her get close enough to plant another one. Oh well, such is life.
They reached the end of a corridor, where the security guard called Boggs was waiting. Susan smiled slightly. Evidently the source of her information had been taking steps to make this easier. She'd have to remember to thank him.
"So where is Mr. Welles, then?" Marcus asked.
"Right in there," Susan said as Boggs opened the door. Marcus came to a halt, obviously suspecting something. Susan's smile grew wider.
Boggs lunged forward and elbowed Marcus in the face. The spy tumbled, and Susan released his hand just as soon as she'd pulled his link from it. Marcus staggered back and raised an arm to block Boggs' next attack. Marcus then lashed out two punches in quick succession, and the security guard had to fall back. Susan sighed melodramatically and waited for Marcus to step off balance. She then reached out and pushed him through the open door. He fell inside the cell and she pulled the door shut quickly.
Boggs was rising slowly, fingering his bloodied nose gingerly. "I told you to be careful," Susan said. "Well, I would have told you to be careful."
"Whatever," Boggs muttered. "Just give me a few moments with him and I'll...."
"You'll do nothing. If he gets even slightly scratched, I'll have you reduced to waste disposal. Just keep him in there out of the way until I do what I've got to do. If he's been hurt at all when I get back, you will be so dead you shouldn't even have been born. Understand?"
"Yes, miss."
"Good. Thank you." Susan turned and left, her two Shadow companions by her side. They hadn't shown themselves in the fight - they hadn't needed to - but if it had been necessary, they would have done.
It is good to have friends, she thought, even if only for a little while.
And one of her friends needed her now.
Anna Sheridan looked ill. Not quite as bad as she had been before, but she still looked bad. Susan needed only one look at her friend to know that Anna hadn't been sleeping much recently, and that she'd probably been drinking instead.
Anna had made a trip up to the Babylon to see John a few days ago, but he'd been busy, apparently. Not too busy to be spending time with his favourite Minbari, however, but Anna had provided an inadvertent clue as to why this was the case. The word, 'chrysalis'.
From her counterpart among the Minbari, Susan had learned all about the prophecies of Valen and she knew the significance of the word. Her mind had immediately started working, and she'd at last found a means to get rid of Delenn. All she needed was to get John out of the way, and now he was here on the planet, on a diplomatic mission with a Centauri noble, who was in fact, as Susan had been so handily informed, the ambassador to Minbar.
There were a number of things she could do with that information, but for the moment, she was quite happy to proceed with her original plan. Phase 1 was complete - getting rid of Marcus so that she could work in peace. Now it was time for Phase 2 - keeping Sheridan from getting involved.
"Um, hi," Anna had said sheepishly as Susan arrived. She still looked a mess, although her quarters - hers and John's quarters - were slightly neater than they had been the last time. The permanent aroma of Narn liquor had been replaced by the scent of orange blossom - a smell that Susan gathered had special significance for John and Anna.
"I've been.... trying to keep the place tidy," Anna muttered. "I don't have much to do these days. I've been looking back and wondering where all the time went, and then I realised it all went down the bottom of a bottle. I...."
"Anna, I've got some news for you. John's here, on the surface. He's in some sort of diplomatic meeting at the moment, but he won't be in there long."
Anna looked up, and there was a brief ray of hope in her eyes. "You think.... he'd see me?"
"I don't know, but it can't hurt to try."
"I don't..... no. He didn't come to try and find me after I went to see him before. He's probably too busy to see me."
"Anna! Look, you have to talk to him. The Minbari will be here soon, and you may not get another chance. I know what it's like to lose someone when you had words you should have said to them. Don't let that happen."
"You think so?"
"Yes. Talk to him. Tell him how you feel. It won't be easy, I know, but you have to try."
"I.... you're right. There's nothing more that can happen to me that's worse than what's happened these last few years." Anna met Susan's eyes. "I still love him, Susan. I always did."
Susan hugged her friend closely. "I know, and he does too. Just tell him."
"Where is he?"
"The Conference Hall."
Anna pulled back and smiled. "Thank you, Susan. I don't know what I'd have done without you."
Susan only smiled in reply, but her mind thought of the Shadows lurking beside her, and she felt a sudden stab of grief and shame. A betrayal of the one true friend she had made here.
But she knew that she would do it again if she had to. Some things were more important than friendship.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sheridan hated diplomats, by and large. He hated passing meaningless pleasantries with people he'd never seen before, who were only interested in his reputation. His father had been a prominent diplomat and he had grown up hearing all about the fine art of diplomacy, about travelling to strange places and taking part in unusual customs. He'd been fascinated, then, and had said, with all the conviction and determination that eight-year-old boys have, that he would become a diplomat when he grew up.
But that was then, before the Minbari, before the Starkiller. He'd been present at any number of diplomatic meetings since the Battle of the Line, largely so that the Resistance Government could show him off to the visiting dignitaries. He felt half like an embarrassed child showing off his skills with a piano or his artwork to his parents' friends, and half like an open threat. We've got the Starkiller on our side.
There were only so many times you could talk about the destruction of the Black Star - an act more noted for its playing on Minbari overconfidence rather than its tactical skill or innovation - or about the Battle of Mars, which had been fought on pure fury, and which he still remembered with shame. After a while, he'd grown tired of the whole affair, of being trotted out whenever the Resistance Government was trying to impress a new trade delegation or to win an alliance. He knew that they wouldn't get any such alliance. The Starkiller might be strong, but the Minbari were stronger.
Still, this Lord Refa had intrigued him. He had had some contact with Centauri nobles, certainly enough to know that the archetypal Centauri noble - power-crazed, machiavellian, decadent and permanently scheming - was, like most archetypes, based on the truth. Refa's carefully chosen words and barbed comments confirmed that he was after something, but it seemed to be more than just mere political power. He was after something specific from Proxima, and something even more specific from Sheridan, and Sheridan couldn't be exactly sure what.
Oh, he had his suspicions. Lord Refa had never once mentioned Satai Delenn - about whom the Resistance Government would certainly have told him - which implied that she was connected in some way to his scheme. Unless of course Refa had anticipated this reaction from him and was really after something else he had been talking about in order to....
Sheridan just gave up. Thinking like a Centauri made his head ache.
Of equal if not more interest was Refa's companion, Vir. Outwardly bumbling and apologetic, he was quiet just long enough to listen to everything that Refa was saying. Sheridan also recognised the small circle-of-light sleeve clasp Vir was wearing. He'd seen Ta'Lon and Neroon wearing similar devices. Now it was true that Minbari fashions were becoming popular among the Centauri recently, but it was also true that G'Kar had sources and allies everywhere - including amongst the Centauri. Vir had evidently noticed Sheridan's gaze and had made somewhat stilted conversation implying something along the lines of 'we have to talk later'.
But later was later, and for now, all he wanted to do was get back to his ship and to keeping an eye on Delenn's cocoon - sorry, chrysalis. She should have several more days yet, but he didn't want to take any risks.
Fate was standing in his way.
As he saw Anna waiting outside the Conference Hall, he hesitated, and silently groaned. The last thing he wanted was another round of drunken insults from her. Acting almost on instinct he backed away, because it was too painful to be with her, as a living reminder of everything he'd once had and lost.
But this time was different. He could see the focussed clarity in her eyes. He could not smell any alcohol. He could even see the hint of sadness in her expression. Caught, almost captivated, he slowed down and wandered to her side.
"Anna," he said. "You're um.... looking well?" He was half afraid that this was all some kind of illusion that would abandon him soon, or some trick. But no.... she wasn't drunk. His senses were telling him that this was the woman he had fallen in love with and married. This was no simulacrum, hologram or doppelgänger. This was her.
This was the real Anna, the one who had been buried for so long beneath alcohol and fear and regret and grief.
"Thank you," she muttered. And she was looking well. She must have made a special effort to look nice, something she hadn't done in years, and had done rarely even before Elizabeth's death, knowing that her mere presence was enough to make him smile. Knowing that because he insisted on telling her.
"Um.... is something wrong?" he asked. They hadn't spoken properly in months. Their last conversation that hadn't either started out as or ended up as an argument had been on the morning of Elizabeth's memorial service.
"No...." She smiled ruefully. "Yes. There is. It's us. It's me.... it's.... it's the world. Can we.... talk? Just for a while."
He blinked slowly. "I.... I'm a little...." What could he tell her? And for that matter why should he? Delenn had days yet before she was due to emerge from the chrysalis, David was more than capable of running the ship for a few more hours, and they'd have twelve hours notice in case the Minbari arrived. Despite what he had told Clark, that was enough time for the Babylon and her crew. It would have to be.
He activated his link through to the Babylon. "David, it's me. I'm going to be here a little longer than I expected. Only link me if its a real emergency, and if you could check in on our guest every now and then."
"No problem," came the slightly puzzled voice through the link. John looked up at his wife - his wife - and smiled, slowly and sadly.
"I'd love to," he said. Remembering an old, old joke, he smiled again. "I could cook us something."
Anna gave a soft chuckle. "I don't think that would be a good idea." She hesitated. "Besides, doesn't your cooking contravene several defence laws here?"
He gave a bark of laughter.
"But they seem to cope with your snoring," she added. "And if that doesn't breach defence regulations, then I don't know what will."
"I do not snore."
"Yes, you do."
"No I don't."
Anna smiled, and John found himself smiling too. She extended her arm and he took it, slowly, unable to believe that this was real, that the woman he'd been in love with for so long had finally returned, and only too willing to hope that the man she'd been in love with was returning as well.
The Minbari would be coming soon, Delenn would be emerging from her cocoon in a few days, the Resistance Government had made a deal with the devil, and Lord Refa was sneaking around pursuing some unknown agenda.
But none of that mattered. For the first time in years, Captain John J. Sheridan, Starkiller, was in the company of the one person he loved with all his heart, body and soul, and for the first time in years, Captain John J. Sheridan, Starkiller, dared to hope that he might be happy at last.
Even if only for a little while.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

For Susan, the rest had been laughably easy. Shuttles were travelling to and from the Babylon all the time, carrying replacements for weapons components, technical engineers, people going on and coming off leave, seeing the last glimpse of a home they might never see again....
All she had to do was hop aboard one such shuttle and hide. Arriving on the Babylon, she'd been met by the one who'd been expecting her, the one whose handy information on Sheridan's whereabouts had made this possible. He had provided her with a completely clear path to the relevant room.
And with her always, there were the Shadows.
Then there were the two guards outside the door. One of them seemed to recognise her and was clearly unsure as to what to do with her. On the one hand, she was a respected and powerful ally of the Resistance Government, and they had given her the run of Proxima. On the other hand, their orders were that no one but the Captain and Commander Corwin were to enter the cell, and that meant no one.
Susan soon solved his dilemma. She killed him.
She'd been secretly practising with the Minbari pike she'd taken from Delenn all those months ago, and she'd managed to master the art of extending it and striking in one movement. The first guard was dead with his chest crushed before he even knew what was happening.
The second guard had started, almost unable to believe it, but she had reacted quickly. Not as quickly as a Shadow, who shimmered into view behind her and literally disembowelled her with one swipe of its foreleg.
Two deaths would not go unnoticed, but it was not as if Susan was planning on taking the blame for them, not when there was a so much more convenient scapegoat to hand.
The door was of course locked and security coded. Fortunately, her informant had provided her with the codes. The door opened and Susan and the two Shadows stepped inside. The first thing she saw, bathed in candlelight in an otherwise dark room, was the chrysalis itself.
It was fixed to the far wall of the room, and came up to the middle of her chest in height. She thought she could dimly pick out a humanoid form within it. Her other senses could definitely pick out a form within it.
Her first thought upon seeing it was, how beautiful.
But then she remembered that Minbari ships could be considered beautiful, Vorlons could be considered beautiful, while her friends, the saviours of humanity, they were feared and reviled.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
She walked up to the chrysalis and held out her pike, still stained with the blood of the guard she had killed. Drawing it back, she swung out with it. A part of the chrysalis tore away. She struck again, and again, and....
.... and a humanoid figure fell free. Susan looked at Delenn, who was stretched out naked on the floor. Whatever the chrysalis had been doing to her, it had not finished, and she was a curious amalgamation of human and Minbari. She was breathing hard, sucking in great gasps of air. Susan guessed that she had been conscious throughout the whole ordeal.
"Lights," she said, and the room was bathed in light. Delenn started, still emitting small, piteous moans, trying to hide her eyes.
But then the Shadows hissed and buzzed, sending their anger to their representative.
"Welcome back to the world, Satai Delenn," Susan said slowly. Delenn knew her. Delenn recognised her. "Out of the darkness....
"And into the light."