Chapter 3

FOR a thousand years it had been a dead world, watched by cautious, waiting eyes, remembered by those with long memories, anticipating the time spoken of when the inhabitants of the dead world would rise again.
That time, as spoken of by Valen in his prophecies, had come. Z'ha'dum was teeming with life once more. Huge ships, as black as night, flew through the galaxy once more. Minions stalked the corridors of power. Forces moved.... gathering strength. Agents on countless different sides readied themselves for the first encounter of this new Great War, a war which promised to be every bit as terrible and costly as the previous one.
And where was the Valen this time? Where were the First Ones who left their footprints in the sand? Where were the likes of Varmain and Kin Stolving and A'Iago Mar-Khan?
Upon whose back now rested the destiny of the entire galaxy? The Vorlons were insular, always looking inward. The Minbari and the humans were at war, the humans corrupted by the Darkness, as were the Minbari, although they did not know it. The Narns and the Centauri were at war. The Non-Aligned Worlds were fragmented and solitary.
There were a few shining beacons of light. Epsilon 3 was one such, but could any light hope to withstand the Darkness that had arrived at last?
The first test, the first encounter, would be held at a place called Proxima 3. A place where the forces of human, Minbari, Narn, Centauri, Shadow and Vorlon would crash together.
A Line in the sand.
For a people who had already seen their entire hopes, dreams and home planet torn from them, a Line would be drawn here. Humanity had nowhere else to flee to, nowhere else to go, nothing else to believe in.
A Line had been drawn at Proxima, a Line that would shortly be decorated with blood....
And fire....
And darkness....
General Hague took a deep breath, and moved a silent prayer to the God he no longer believed in. He sat back on his chair, knowing that he should inform the Resistance Government of the information he had just received. Knowing that he should, but unable actually to do it. He couldn't. He just....
How could he tell them that what they had all been fearing for the last eleven years had just happened?
The Minbari were on their way to Proxima.
They had been expecting this for a while. No, fearing was the right word. In fact, the Minbari were quite a bit overdue. Based on the evidence gained from Satai Delenn, the period of mourning for their dead leader should have ended months ago. They should have elected a new leader months ago. That leader should have been Sinoval, a warrior of the Wind Swords clan. Without Delenn to oppose him, it seemed inevitable.
But the time had passed and the Minbari had not come. Like everyone else on Proxima, General Hague had allowed himself to hope. Maybe Delenn had been wrong. Maybe they had elected another priest, or a worker, someone with no desire to wage war. Maybe the universe had blinked. Maybe God had changed his mind. Maybe humanity had been given another chance. With each day that passed, humanity allowed itself to think it was safe.
Humanity was wrong.
The early warning probes had detected the coming of a Minbari fleet. A big Minbari fleet, far bigger than the Resistance Government's own worst fears. They would draw a Line here, try to defend it, but the Line had failed at Earth. Why should it hold here?
Hague had not been at the First Line, but he had heard reports from the few who had been and had survived. A wall of paper would have stood about as equal a chance.
And now where were they? Sheridan was gone. The Starkiller was gone. A traitor by all accounts. Hague had never liked him, but he had at least respected the man. How could he betray his people like this?
Oh - the Babylon had been returned, with no explanations from those who brought it back. No clues as to where Sheridan was now. Hague had given command of it to General Takashima, who was doing her best to prepare it for the Minbari's arrival. By all rights, Hague should have taken it himself, but he couldn't. He just couldn't....
The Minbari are coming. The Minbari are coming. The Minbari are coming.
He just could not rid himself of those four words. They kept running around inside his mind.
The Minbari are coming.
He still had not told Vice Pre.... President Clark. He still had not told General Takashima. He had not told Mr. Welles. He had only so much as hinted to one person, and she was, hopefully, on her way now.
The door opened, and in she walked.
Ambassador Susan Ivanova. Emissary of the mysterious race called the Shadows who promised assistance to humanity against the Minbari. Except that there was neither sight nor sound nor trace of them. And now the Minbari were coming, and humanity needed them. Humanity needed anything.
The Minbari are coming. The Minbari are coming.
"General. How are you?" She flashed a smile and sat down opposite him. "Well, I trust?"
"I.... yes. Fine. I...." Hague stopped and swallowed hard. The Minbari are coming. "The Minbari are coming!" He hadn't realised he'd spoken that last thought aloud until he heard Ivanova's reply.
"Finally got things moving, did they? Well, they certainly took their time."
Hague closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He felt as though he were suffocating. This was absurd! He was a soldier, a trained soldier. He'd fought the Dilgar, he'd taken part in the siege of New Jerusalem, he'd fought with General Franklin on the Janos 7 campaign. He was no stranger to death, but this....
The Minbari are coming.
"Will...." He choked and paused. "Will your allies be here?"
She smiled. "Of course, General. I promised you they would be. They'll be here."
Hague nodded and swallowed again. His throat felt very dry. He poured himself a glass of whisky and drank it in one gulp. He'd always kept a bottle of Scotch whisky in his quarters aboard his ship. Afterwards he had brought the bottle here, saving it for a special occasion. Dying seemed special enough.
Ivanova rose and bowed a trifle mockingly. She went towards the door, and as she reached it, she suddenly stopped and turned, smiling.
"There will be a price of course."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Minbari are coming!

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Elsewhere, others were preparing. Others knew. They had sources, they had agents, they had ears and eyes and minds.
In a place called Sanctuary, a place few had ever heard of, and fewer could find, a man called Bester was having a conversation.
"We knew this was going to happen sooner or later," he said. "The question is are we ready to take part, or do we just.... let events take their course?"
"We cannot stay hidden forever. Did you make the necessary preparations?"
"Oh yes." Bester smiled, a little smugly. "A few people in the right places. It's all ready. If we are."
"Do you think we are?"
"I don't know. I've never met these.... allies of humanity, but their ambassador on Proxima was certainly keen enough to avoid me. That could mean something. It could mean we're right."
"Perhaps. What about Captain Sheridan?"
"What about him?"
"What does he know?"
"What you've told him, what he's managed to piece together. I certainly haven't told him anything. He's an intelligent man, and a dangerous one. I think he's taking to the Parmenion quite well."
"And Satai Delenn? What about her?"
"Now that.... is a fascinating subject. I've had her checked over by my doctors here. She is.... a mix, a foot in each world, so to speak. Unfortunately, she is also genetically very unstable. She wasn't willing to talk about her change, but I wouldn't hold out much hope for a long life. Unless she can somehow complete what was interrupted.... That's your area, I believe."
"I'll find out what I can, but we don't have time. The Minbari will be at Proxima in twelve hours. How long would it take the Parmenion and the Ozymandias to get there?"
"Eight hours or so. Perhaps. They're quite a bit faster than my Black Omega Starfuries. I take it this means we are going to get involved?"
"I doubt we could keep Captain Sheridan out of it. And Satai Delenn may be our one chance of ending this without bloodshed."
"If you think so. You certainly know the Minbari better than I do. So, do you want to tell Sheridan the truth? Or shall I?"
"No. He must make his own choice. For too long he has been misguided, directionless, uncertain. He has set aside his past, but now he must decide his future. He must decide where he will stand on his own."
"And if he chooses wrongly?"
"Then we will remove him. I do not like to do this either, but there is a saying I learned recently. 'Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved.'"
"'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'," Bester countered. "'Practicalities are more important than principles.' You had better watch yourself. You're starting to think just like me."
"What was it you once told me? 'Desperate times breed desperate people.'"
Bester smiled. "Absolutely correct."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Hague reeled. A price? She had never mentioned a price before. What.... price?
The Minbari are coming.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Timov hated intrigue. She despised politics. She loathed social climbing. And she found assassinations very impolite and annoying. All she wanted was a quiet life, where she could live in peace, bullying the servants and making her husband's life hell. Was that so much to ask for?
Evidently, it was. Ever since she had realised that in order to keep up with Mariel and Daggair she would actually have to involve herself in whatever game they were playing, she had not had a moment's peace. If it wasn't one thing it was another, and most of the problems seemed centred around Lady Elrisia, of whom Londo spoke frequently and derisorily.
"There, there, Londo," she had said, patting his forehead in a way that she knew was bound to drive him insane. "Everything will be all right soon, just you wait and see."
"Where is Drigo?" Londo had spat. "I am not staying here one moment longer!"
"Oh, you should not exert yourself, Londo my love. Drigo will be back before long, and he told me to keep you from getting too stressed. If you'd prefer I could always ask Mariel or Daggair to come and keep an eye on you...."
"Timov! You are a witch! A harridan! A.... a.... Bah! We do not have the word to describe what you are."
Timov smiled in memory of that conversation, but her smile faded as she thought of the circumstances behind it.
Another assassination attempt, one which had come very close to succeeding. Londo's personal carriage had exploded on his journey from the capital to his estates. Fortunately Londo had sensed something strange and had managed to escape, but the explosion had resulted in him being quite badly burned. He had contacted his primary source of information - a weaselly, worthless sort of man named Drigo - who had managed to get him to a safe house to recuperate. Drigo was however also working for Timov, whom he called and alerted to the unfortunate events. Timov had made her way there quickly and had proceeded to annoy Londo almost to death while making discreet enquiries.
Saying that this was Elrisia's work would be stating the obvious, but the fact that she was willing to go to such lengths indicated just how far her ambition had taken her. Timov had done some thinking about this, and she had devised a plan, which she had broached to a less than receptive Londo.
"What?" he had said. "Pretend to be dead! Never!"
"It will, I admit, cause a few problems. Namely your having to muster a little bit more energy to be truly accepted in the rôle."
"Such subterfuge is beneath my dignity!"
"Londo! Shut up and think for a moment. Sooner or later one of these attempts is going to succeed. Someone wants you dead very badly. I can sympathise with them, of course, but I think it would be better if you stopped presenting yourself as such an open target to them."
"Be careful, Timov," he had warned. "I might start to think you care."
"Don't overestimate yourself, Londo. All I'm saying is that if you went out of the picture for a while, then the people who have been behind all this may make a mistake or two, and you will still be alive to capitalise on it."
Londo had sat back, thinking. Timov groaned melodramatically. Londo seemed to be thinking far too much these days.
"I could head out to one of our outer colonies. Gorash, perhaps. Or maybe Frallus Twelve. Elrisia has fewer supporters there, and then there is...." He suddenly stopped and looked at Timov. "Something very strange is going on, Timov. You have had a good idea. Is there something in the water?"
"Somebody in this house has to think intelligently for a while, Londo. It might as well be me."
"How will I be able to get off Centauri Prime?"
"I am sure Drigo will be able to attend to that, won't you, Drigo?"
"Yes, ma'am," Drigo had said. He certainly knew where his loyalties lay.
"Good. There you see, Londo. Problem solved."
"If only."
And the problem was pretty much solved. Londo had needed a few more days rest, and Timov had to spend some time back at the estates so as not to cause suspicion and to put on a false display of mourning. Mariel and Daggair put on false displays of mourning as well, but theirs would have been false in any event. There was quite a bit of mourning and ceremony in the city, and considerable regret that Londo's body could not be found.
Timov took quite a bit of pleasure in relating to Londo the exact details of his funeral, something he later said no one should ever have to hear.
There was however, one other bit of news that she brought him that he was equally unhappy to hear.
"What do you mean he is gone?"
"I mean gone. As in - vanished, or not there any more. Are you sure that explosion did not damage your hearing, Londo?"
"It is a secure cell at the bottom of the Royal Palace! How can anyone just vanish from there?"
"Never having been there, I wouldn't know, Londo. He is gone, however, and nobody knows how. Lady Elrisia was quite.... vexed."
Timov didn't know why Londo was so interested in the whereabouts of this strange Mr. Morden, and she doubted that he did. Mysteries were very commonplace these days, but that did not make them any easier to deal with.
And then he was gone. A private shuttle to the city and a secretive boarding on to the Valerius, whose captain owed Londo a number of favours. The Valerius was heading out to the war zone, and he hoped to be dropped off at an insignificant place called Epsilon 3. Timov pretended not to know anything about a Great Machine or a Narn inhabiting it, and so she feigned ignorance.
She did remember their final parting however. An awkward silence, an almost tender exchange of barbs and a never actually spoken thank you. It had been quite emotional.
Timov shrugged and shook herself out of her reverie. In a minute she might actually start thinking she loved her husband. Hah!

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Minbari....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Ta'Lon had never been to Proxima 3 before, despite his extensive travels in G'Kar's service. G'Kar had uncovered the Shadow influence on the planet and he had decided not to interfere there for fear of revealing his existence to the Enemy. G'Kar still kept an eye on Captain Sheridan through his Great Machine, but all his agents had been ordered to stay away from Proxima.
Until now.
Ta'Lon had received a recent message from the Centauri aide who was close to the Grey Council. The Minbari had finally launched their offensive. Ta'Lon had arrived at Proxima only twelve hours or so before the Minbari would arrive.
Getting in was not all that difficult. He did after all have experience as a fighter pilot during the last Narn / Centauri War, and he had fake documents from Councillor Na'Toth which gave him the official approval of the Kha'Ri to do whatever he wanted. If they were ever investigated, Na'Toth could always claim they were forgeries.
Under pretence of getting his ship repaired, Ta'Lon managed to make it down to the surface. He had arranged a quick meeting with General Takashima, who was supposed to be organising the defence line. She quickly authorised his presence, grateful for even one more ship that could help defend Proxima.
Ta'Lon's real reason for coming to the planet had little to do with defence. It had to do with a last promise to a friend.
Delenn was not on Proxima, as he had been told by Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, but there were two others who needed his help. Lyta Alexander and Marcus Cole. Lyta Alexander was a telepath, and as such a valuable ally to have. Marcus Cole had been monitoring the Shadow activity here, and would have important information.
Ta'Lon had come to Proxima to find Satai Delenn, only to discover that she was no longer there. That did not invalidate his mission. Ta'Lon lived to serve, and so, in G'Kar's name, he would serve.
Or die.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

John Sheridan was many things, a leader, a commander, an orator. He was first and foremost a warrior, however. Delenn had known many warriors in her life, and she had seen many different sides to them.
There was her father, who had fought a war against succumbing to grief and loss after the departure of her mother. There were Draal and Dukhat, who fought wars to keep the Minbari together, to keep the castes focussed. There was Neroon, who fought a war against the Darkness in the name of her love. There was Sinoval, who fought for pride and honour and duty.
Delenn would never forget the first time she had seen Sheridan. It had been in the Hall of the Grey Council, when he had been brought forward, bloodied, battered and chained. From the first image, he had dominated her vision. She saw his pride, his strength, his power, and she saw him confronting Sinoval, burning with a rage that could have torn the ship apart.
Two sides to the same coin, as the human saying went. A mirror image in the water, as did the Minbari's. Two halves of the same soul.
Delenn had seen Sinoval at war. She had seen him launch the final attack on Earth, brimming with a thirst for vengeance that had almost matched her own. She had seen Sheridan at war, confronting what should never have to be met. She remembered the sight of the Babylon's near apocalyptic attack over Mars.
Sheridan and Sinoval. Two sides of the same coin.
And then what about her and Sheridan? Delenn had studied the prophecies of Valen in detail, reading them over and over again, but never had they come into such clarity as they had when she had first seen Sheridan. Everything had made sense then. At first she had denied it to herself, thinking that her answers were impossible, even blasphemous.
Then she had been captured by him, brought to Proxima, questioned.... It had been an ordeal simply to keep her sanity, to keep the dreadful actuality of what she had done from exploding in her face.
And then he had saved her. A simple act of mercy - food, water and rest - was followed by her freedom. She had been given a chance to think, to understand, to suppose. She found she could talk to him about her theories and he would listen. She wasn't sure he believed her, but he would at least listen.
And then she had met Valen. So many questions answered, but so many new questions arising. She had seen the future - or what might become the future. She had seen herself standing over Sheridan's grave on a devastated Minbar, and she had sworn never to let that happen. Her change had been part of an effort to prevent that future from happening.
And then had come her chrysalis, and her almost fatal premature emergence from it. She remembered little of the immediate few days after the chrysalis had been broken, but she had an image of a part of herself being held prisoner within her own mind, of being hemmed in by steel bars while Shadows crept up on her. She had been freed at last, but now she was just as worried as before. She had her place in destiny marked out - the prophecies said so - but it wasn't supposed to happen this way. Surely it wasn't?
She winced as another sharp burst of pain tore up to her eyes from the back of her skull. They were getting more frequent now.
"Delenn?" Sheridan asked. He knelt down beside her. "Are you...?"
All right? She didn't know. She didn't understand what was happening to her. She had expected some pain, some.... difficulty in her transition, but not this.
But how could she tell him of her pains, when he had so many of his own? She doubted she would ever forget the image of his face after Anna had died. The sight of all innocence and hope fading. She doubted they would ever regain their earlier air of.... familiarity. The two of them had grown close - as close as any human and Minbari could get. Now.... he still came to talk, he still listened, but there were more uncomfortable gaps in their conversations, as they both wondered what to say that could possibly forestall further pain.
"I am fine," she whispered. She was not fine. She remembered what Dr. Hobbs and Dr. Kyle had told her.
"I don't pretend to know anything about the technology that caused this change," Dr. Hobbs had begun. She was a warm, friendly woman who had actually talked to Delenn. Delenn was still nervous around most humans, and the sight of someone who did not look upon her as a Minbari murderer had given her a brief ray of happiness.
"All I can say is what I've discovered, and I'm afraid it is not good.
"Your biology is.... very unstable. You've said that the process was not complete and that would concur with my data. Your vital systems are very unstable, and heart problems in particular seem likely, as well as more.... minor complaints like severe headaches, dizziness, nausea, possibly even loss of memory."
"I have.... been suffering from all of those," she admitted.
"I guessed as much, and I'm afraid things are only going to get worse. I can prescribe some medicines to treat some of the symptoms, but I'm going to have to be very careful to make sure that whatever I give you won't cause problems for either part of your shared biology. I also won't be able to do anything to get at the root of the problem, unless you have some of the technology that caused this, so I can have a look at it...."
"It was confiscated by Mr. Welles," Delenn replied. "It is on Proxima Three at the moment."
"Then I'm afraid there isn't much I can do. My best guess if that you only have a few months before one of your major systems fails completely, and I won't be able to do much to help."
"A few months will be all I need. Thank you, Doctor."
Delenn had tried to hide how scared she was by this, but she was failing, both in hiding it from herself and in hiding it from John. He had not mentioned anything about it to her, however. At least not yet.
"How.... much longer until we arrive there?" Delenn asked, trying not to notice how near John was to her. She could look directly into his eyes and notice every item of loss and pain and suffering there.... and how much of all that suffering was down to her?
"A few hours, not much more," he replied. "I.... I...." He fell back, sitting on the back of his heels. "I wish I knew what Bester was up to."
"You do not trust him?"
"I don't trust anyone, Delenn. No one at all." Not even me, she thought sadly. And why should he? What have I ever done to make him trust me?
"What did he tell you? What were your.... orders?"
"That's the funniest part of all...."

* * * *
Bester had not looked happy when Sheridan had gone to see him, as requested. He had smiled however as Sheridan walked in. Sheridan had seen Captain Ben Zayn walk out, and had received a grim, steady expression of patience in return for his careful greeting.
"Ah, Captain Sheridan." He did not like the sight of Bester smiling. It reminded him of a shark's smile - that what Bester found happy was not something anyone else would find something to smile about. "How are you taking to the Parmenion?"
"Very well," Sheridan replied. "It's a.... good ship with a very capable crew."
"Good. I am glad. It is a pity that you will not have more time to adapt. Captain, the Minbari have launched an offensive on Proxima Three."
Sheridan breathed out harshly. Well, he knew it was bound to happen eventually. And it wasn't as if it could have hit him as much of a surprise, but still....
"Will we be taking action?" he asked cautiously. He still wasn't sure exactly where Bester's loyalties lay in the conflict. He wouldn't be surprised if he simply sat the matter out and moved in to pick up the pieces.
"Of course, Captain. This is too important for us to not be involved. I have already given Captain Ben Zayn his orders. He will be taking the Ozymandias to Proxima Three itself. I want you to go to Proxima Seven. That is doubtless where the Minbari will emerge from hyperspace, giving them plenty of time to evaluate the area before striking out for the colony itself."
Bester paused, and Sheridan looked at him. "And then?"
"I am sorry, Captain?"
"What are my instructions regarding the Minbari? If I'm stuck out in Proxima Seven against an entire Minbari fleet then not even I can do much...."
"Who said anything about fighting the Minbari? Your mission is to.... be there."
"But...."
"You are an intelligent man, Captain. At least I always took you to be one. I am sure your.... instincts will guide you in the right direction. You have your instructions, Captain."
* * * *

"It didn't make any sense. It still doesn't. One minute he was giving me strict instructions to follow his orders, the next he's telling me to do what I think best. I sometimes wonder if he knows what he's doing."
"And what will you be doing?" she asked softly. Delenn hated herself for questioning him like this, but she had to do it. "If the Enemy are waiting there for my people, then who will you fight?"
"I.... don't know. I won't hurt my people, Delenn. I won't do that! But.... would I hurt them more by letting them be? Letting them.... keep walking into the Darkness?"
Delenn reached out and touched his arm gently. "You will make the right decision." But her thoughts were on something else. On the Council of Nine.... on the covenant with Valen, on the prophecies....
If she could convince them of the truth of the prophecies then this could be ended without bloodshed. If she could make the Grey Council see what Valen had meant.... who Valen was.... then there might be hope. The Grey Council would be there. Sinoval would not pass up this opportunity to lead. He always prided himself on leading from the front. Like a true warrior.
She could see John's eyes staring directly into her own - like a pathway into the heart of his soul. The other half of my soul, she realised.
He looked away sharply, possibly having realised the same thing. "I've.... put all the guards on security patrol along the inside of the outer hull. The Minbari might try to board us. Just because they haven't before, it doesn't mean Sinoval won't start. Or maybe the people from Proxima might try, I don't know. I won't be able to spare anyone to guard you. You can go up to the bridge, if you like, but...."
"No," she said softly, smiling sadly. "I do not.... think I could bear that."
"I understand," he said. "Please, take care. I wouldn't...."
She smiled again. "Trust me." She bit back the anger of betrayal welling up from deep within her. What was the human saying? Minbari never tell anyone the whole truth? "How.... competent are these Narns?"
"They're very good. Their leader - Ko'Dath - assures me that they're good at what they do." Sheridan smiled. "The humans call them the Narn bat squad."
Delenn smiled too. "Be careful," she whispered.
"You too."
The Parmenion came closer and closer to Proxima and the Second Line.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"What.... price?" Hague asked. "You never...."
"Sorry?" Ivanova said. "I can't quite hear you."
"What price?! You never said...."
"Didn't I? Sorry. Must have slipped my mind. You know how memories are. Tricky things at best."
Hague slumped back in his chair. He didn't.... he couldn't.... the Minbari are coming. "What.... what is the price?"
"Just a little thing. More of a.... middle man's commission sort of thing. It's not very much really."
"What price?!" He leapt to his feet, scattering readouts and documents everywhere. "This isn't a game! They're.... they're coming, and if your friends don't help then we're ALL GOING TO DIE! WHAT PRICE?!"
"Lyta Alexander. What are you doing with her at the moment?"
He blinked. "Miss Alexander? What does she...?" He gasped and closed his eyes hard. The whisky was disagreeing with him, and why shouldn't it? He hadn't eaten anything in days. "She's being held in the Detention Block. Mr. Welles will have the details.... Why are you interested in her?"
"She's the price. I want her."
"What? I.... I don't...." The Minbari are coming.
"What would you do with her? As punishment for what she did?"
He couldn't think. This was so.... unreal. The Minbari were coming, and in just over twelve hours, this, none of this would survive. He didn't.... he couldn't....
"Treason still carries the death penalty," he muttered, largely to himself. "She'd be given a trial and if she was found guilty, she'd be executed. Some of the.... some of the others.... they were debating what.... to do.... with.... her. Why do you care, for God's sake?"
"That's my business. I want her. I want to kill her. No trial. No fair hearing. I want to kill her myself."
He didn't believe he was hearing this. He couldn't believe he was hearing this, and yet.... the Minbari are coming. THE MINBARI ARE COMING, FOR GOD'S SAKE!
But still he was hesitating. This was wrong. She deserved a fair trial at least, but it was more than that. William Hague had always held such a high image of himself. He wore the uniform of the Earth Alliance proudly, without regret or fear or shame, because he knew he was worthy of it. He'd fallen a long way since he'd first put on the uniform, but this....
If he agreed to this, he would be damned, finally, irrevocably damned.
And yet what was one life - two lives even - compared with all of humanity? Lyta Alexander would die anyway if the Minbari did to Proxima 3 what they had done to Earth. Did one life really matter so much?
Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.
But this.... this was wrong. This was immoral. This was illegal. This was....
Ivanova shrugged and went to the door. It opened....
"Wait!" he cried. "Yes! Yes, you can do whatever you like, just make sure they'll be here."
Ivanova smiled. "Thank you, General. I always knew you'd see sense."
"I told you. I don't know which cell she's in, but you can ask Mr. Welles. I'll.... let.... him know of my decision. I.... I...."
"Don't worry, General. Sooner or later everyone falls to the bottom. You'll have plenty of company."
Ivanova smiled and left.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

There had not been much time for the testing of the new White Star class ships, but even so Tryfan felt comfortable in one. Their speed and power surprised him, especially in relation to their size, but he had little idea of how much damage they could take, or of how effective they would be in full combat. The Vorlon technology they had incorporated seemed to be invincible, and perhaps it would be. It was certainly one of the few occasions on which the Vorlons had actually helped their erstwhile allies since the discovery of the Shadow vessel under the sands of Mars.
He would have liked a little longer to test them, but Sinoval had said that was impossible. The Enemy was at Proxima. The Starkiller was at Proxima. The Earthers were at Proxima.
Their destinies lay at Proxima.
Tryfan had not played a great part in the last war. He had served most of the time as aide to Shakiri, the great warrior who had died in flames in Sheridan's onslaught over Mars. Tryfan had served a similar rôle to that which his friend Neroon had played serving Branmer, but whereas Neroon and Branmer had risen to high positions within the Rangers - until Branmer's death and Neroon's mysterious disappearance - Tryfan had languished in the Rangers for many years, unnoticed and unremarked.
Until Sinoval had risen to power. Sinoval had known Tryfan well and had trusted him with a position of authority - Shai Alyt, and Captain of a White Star fleet, taking the place vacated by Kalain with his recent ascension to Satai.
He would not betray the trust Sinoval had placed in him. At Proxima, he would repay the trust with deeds performed a thousandfold.
Slowly, Tryfan's White Star Nine - named the Valen - leading the way, the great Minbari fleet emerged from hyperspace into the skies of Proxima.
The Second Line had been drawn, and the Minbari were there.
As were the Shadows....