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"WHAT do you want?"
Marcus understood that it was called a Mexican stand-off. Presumably after all those interminable scenes in old Western movies where the good guy and the bad guy stared at each other down the length of the street at high noon, each one daring the other to make the first move.
This was no sunny street in the Wild West at high noon. This was the darkest part of Babylon 5 - both physically and metaphorically. This was Grey 17, where a warrior who had once been ranked alongside the greatest in Minbari history, had made his last desperate chance for redemption. This was a place marked by at least two dead bodies - a human and a Narn - and possibly three others.
Neroon was still, but he was breathing, if a sound like a saw cutting into bone could be called breathing.
Captain Sheridan was moving, mumbling softly spoken words, unable to move from the place where he was bound, forced to watch the last, best chance for salvation.
Susan Ivanova was still, not moving, barely breathing, a terrible wound in her side.
Two dead, three who perhaps should be, one who was dead in every way except for the physical, and Marcus.... who knew he soon would be dead.
He didn't know why he was still standing over Susan's prone body. He just knew he had to guard her, had to keep her safe. Shryne's Narn agent had stabbed her, and Marcus had shattered the Narn's skull in turn, but Marcus had been preoccupied, and had failed to notice the Centauri lady slip up behind him and rake her poisoned claws across his face. The drug was tearing through his veins now and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open, and his pike in his hands.
"What do you want?"
Shryne was motionless as well, and Marcus looked at him. Once he had been Tryfan of the Wind Swords, a Ranger and a Warrior. Marcus had known him, fought at his side and pledged an oath of friendship. In a life where he'd had pathetically few friends, Marcus was grateful for any, even one he would have to kill.
For Tryfan was dead. Somehow he had been corrupted by the Enemy he had dedicated his life to fighting against and in a vain effort to find redemption - a warrior's death - he had come to Babylon 5 and begun a deadly and horrific chain of events.
Sheridan captured. Delenn badly wounded. Three maintenance workers killed. Neroon and Ivanova both fallen.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing that you can give me," Marcus rasped. Even speaking was an effort. "Nothing that you can give me."
"You're lying, Cole." Even Tryfan's voice sounded different, hoarse and rasping. "And you know it."
"What did you want? What was your answer?" Marcus replied, rooting his feet to the ground, over Susan's still body.
"You first, Cole. You answer first."
"For a long time...." Marcus rasped. Focus! Stay alert! "I wanted.... to die, but I that was because I had no reason to live. Then.... I met two women.... both of them inspired me.... Delenn gave me a reason to die.... Susan gave me a reason to live.
"And now you've taken them both from me, Tryfan. So tell me.... Tell me! What did you want that caused you to do all this? What was it - because I don't want anything you can give me, save an answer! Why? In Valen's Name, why?"
Marcus was standing on pure willpower now, on pure anger. Nothing else seemed to matter.
And Shryne laughed, a bitter, angry, self-mocking laugh. "What did I want, Cole? What did I want? I wanted to be the greatest warrior who ever lived. Greater than Durhan, greater than Hieral, greater than Neroon, greater even than Varmain. And now I am, and what has it brought here? A lonely, pointless death on a human station. So, come, Cole, grant to me a warrior's rest."
"Beyond the wild, impartial stars," Marcus finished the ancient blessing. He doubted he had the energy to move forward, and he wouldn't even if he had. He would not leave Susan again..
And so Shryne stepped forward instead. He raised his staff in salute, a gesture Marcus did not even try to reciprocate.
And then, casually, Shryne broke Marcus' rib. The Ranger staggered backwards, but kept his position. He raised his pike, but was unable to prevent Shryne thudding the weapon into his stomach. Two more blows followed in quick succession - to wrist and knee, and Marcus fell, struggling to raise the weapon he could barely carry. He could hear Susan's hollow breathing now, each breath sounding like a thunderclap, and Marcus tried to rise.
A casual, gentle tap on his shoulder put him down. It was so hard to even think now. Marcus raised his head and looked up at Shryne. There was great pity in his eyes.
Shryne raised his pike....
and lowered it again.
Without turning, he made three backward steps and continued looking at Marcus. "What have I become?" he asked. "In Valen's Name, Cole, what have I become?"
Marcus didn't answer, not because he didn't have the energy, but because there was nothing he could say.
"You were always better than me before, Cole. Always. I thought.... you alone could kill me, but it was not your skill. It was never your skill - it was because you fought with a pure heart, while mine was corrupted, even then. Neroon knew, I think, but he didn't care then. He has redeemed himself. Why cannot I?
"Is there ever to be redemption?"
"Perhaps," Marcus breathed.
"Ah, Valen," Shryne breathed. "I have lost everything, and I cannot even die in your name. Valen bless me."
"He can't...." Marcus rasped. "But you can. Let go, Tryfan. Let go of the past. Perhaps.... perhaps there is still hope for you. That's what this place is for, after all."
"I...." Shryne lowered and compressed his pike. Marcus recognised the weapon. Durhan himself had given it to him. It was one of the nine great weapons forged by the master. "I...."
He fell backwards slowly, ever so slowly. His body crashed against the shattered remains of his pulpit and he fell tumbling to the ground. He was silent.
"Susan," Marcus breathed, rolling from her. She had managed to haul herself up to her elbow and had fired her PPG. "Susan...." He could not think of what to say to go with her name.
It didn't matter really, because he was unconscious a few minutes later.
Susan tried to rise to her feet, but she couldn't. The muscles in her legs didn't seem to be working. The best she managed was to roll over on to Marcus and burying her face in his shoulder. She sucked in great, gasping bursts of air, trying to ease the pain in her side. She wasn't sure how long she'd been unconscious, but that didn't matter.
"Link," she muttered. Raising her head, she pulled her hand up to her mouth and activated the link. Who'd have thought such a simple action could be so hard?
"Ivanova to Medlab," she said. "Four very stupid people need help ASAP. We're in.... oh hell, Grey seventeen.... the real Grey seventeen.... the missing one. Look, you know what I mean. Get here fast.... ah.... this hurts.... Just.... get here!"
Then she lowered her head to Marcus again, too hurt to notice that Shryne's body was nowhere in sight.
* * * * * * *
Days passed on Babylon 5, largely uneventful, at least by Babylon 5 standards, anyway. Corwin and Major Atumbe were able to run the station for the length of time that Sheridan and Ivanova were in Medlab.
Out of the four of them who went into Medlab that day, it was Sheridan who came out first. The poison that Lady Elrisia had scratched into him was completely erased from his system in a few days, and none of his wounds were that serious. He was released from Medlab two days after going in, although even after Franklin had ordered him to go and rest, he spent most of his time in Medlab sitting beside Delenn's bed, talking to her and simply being with her, speaking a silence that contained more words than could ever be said.
Her own exposure to Elrisia's poison had been slightly more serious that Sheridan's, and her unique biology had exacerbated the situation, but she had left a day after Sheridan had, driven mad by his insistence on doing everything for her, and wanting to get back to work, only to be driven mad by Lennier's insistence on doing everything for her. Both Sheridan and Lennier knew that there was something affecting her worse than physical injuries and they had made a silent and unspoken pact to simply love her as they both did until she could deal with whatever secrets she was carrying.
Neroon was out mere hours after Sheridan, considerably against Franklin's advice. Minbari had remarkable constitutions, but Neroon's injuries had been severe. The warrior had not cared, however, and had limped from Medlab. Although he would not speak of what happened the few hours after he left Medlab, it was widespread guesswork that he went to Grey 17 to try and find Shryne's body, and that he also managed to completely elude the security guards Mr. Allan had set to scouring the area. He was less successful with his chosen mission..
Marcus' own injuries were a little more severe, and Lady Elrisia's drug affected him worse than Sheridan for his dogged struggle against it. Still, come the fifth day he was leaving, also against Franklin's advice, but just as uncaring as was Neroon. Marcus clearly had some frustrations to work off and he did so with Neroon, training so vigorously that rarely a day passed when either of them didn't sport some new bruise or mark. And when he wasn't sporting with Neroon, Marcus was watching Susan.
Her own injury had been the worst, tearing open several organs and partially damaging her leg muscles. She woke up on and off over six days, and eventually came to full consciousness on the seventh day. Stephen was there waiting for her. After several minutes of stilted doctor/ patient talk, she suddenly laughed.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"I just remembered something. I was thinking.... before all this broke out, about you and John and Londo.... you're all so much calmer these days, and I was thinking of the three ways to become mellow. Get married, become Emperor or get stabbed in the back and left to die. I thought getting stabbed would be easier."
"Yeah well...." he replied. "Just goes to show you, doesn't it?"
"I still think it's the easiest one. So, how's Marcus?"
"The same as usual. Ribs of concrete and a brain to match. He left here a few days ago. No serious damage, but...." Stephen clearly noticed her expression. "What?"
"I don't know. I wish I did. I.... aw, hell.... Stephen, you tell this to anyone else and I will rip you apart. I kissed him. I mean.... it was stupid, but it felt so right and now.... now I've got no idea what I feel. I mean I always knew he was interested, but well.... oh, why is life such a mess?"
"I can't help you there, I'm afraid. Have you spoken to Marcus about how you feel?"
"I don't even know how I feel. No, yes I do. I'm scared, Stephen. You know how Marcus is. You know what sort of death wish he has. What if.... I can't let myself get close to him, because.... What if he died?! Everyone I've ever loved has left me, and I always knew I'd be alone, but.... oh why is this so hard?"
"There's an old saying. It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
"But that's the point, Stephen! I have loved and I have lost and I'm so afraid of it happening again. I.... I don't know, Stephen. I just don't know."
Neither of them saw Marcus, watching and listening. Neither of them saw him turn and leave either.
* * * * * * *
Delenn was steadier on her feet now, but that did not make her steadier in her mind. Both John and Lennier knew that she was hiding something, and she knew that they knew. It hurt sometimes, being so trusted. What if she did tell them? What could she tell them, and would they ever trust her again? She remembered with aching terror of John's anger before he left to go to Z'ha'dum, and the sadness she felt when she thought she would never see him again.
She loved him, and she could not bear to be apart from him. She wanted to tell him the truth, but she was so enmired in lies that she did not even know where the truth began.
But today, she was not going to see John, or Lennier, but Marcus. He was in his room, obviously trying to meditate and equally obviously failing. Meditation had never been Marcus's greatest skill, but she could see that he was troubled.
"Are you feeling well now, Marcus?" she asked.
He smiled and rose, making the ritual Minbari gesture of greeting. "Yes, thank you, Delenn. And you?"
"I.... yes, fine. I have been trying to find Neroon for some time now. He does not seem to be around."
"He left to return to Minbar this morning. He gave me a message to give to you, Delenn. It says: You were right. That is all."
She sighed softly. "I only wish that were true," she whispered to herself in Adronato. Then she looked directly into Marcus' eyes and she saw the pain festering there. "There is something else, isn't there, Marcus?"
"Yes," he said slowly. "I.... would like to be sent on a mission. Preferably some way away."
Delenn started. "But.... why? You seemed happy here. Is it to do with what has happened?"
"No," he lied swiftly. She knew he was lying, but how could she bring it up when she was guilty of precisely the same thing? "I just.... I need to be away for a while. Quite a while. Is there something available?"
"I will need to check with Lennier," she said. "But I think there is a place for a Ranger with the Non-Aligned Worlds, helping eradicate Shadow influences, but.... it will be a difficult task, and a long one. Marcus, are you sure...?"
"I am sure," he said. "I.... I just need to be alone. I.... Will you bless me, Entil'zha?"
The last request came out as if from a frightened child, and as Delenn looked at him she could see the terror there with the pain. Slowly, she laid her hand on his chest and bowed her head, unable to look into his eyes.
"Valen walk with you always, Ranger, and in his name find peace, and in his light, find beauty."
He smiled. "Thank you, Delenn." Then, impulsively, he lent forward and kissed her cheek. She started, but then smiled, and enfolded him in a tight and yet gentle embrace.
"Walk with Valen, Marcus, and be with him always."
"Remember me?" he asked softly.
"Always."
Delenn would later curse herself for not thinking about Susan, for forgetting about her entirely, but her mind was still elsewhere, and the sheer pain in Marcus' eyes wounded her to her very soul. Her thoughts were all of John and Tryfan and Marcus, and as she arrived at her quarters, she found one of them waiting there for her.
Lady Elrisia of the House of Refa was seated in the chair next to the table. At first Delenn started, thinking she was asleep, but then her head fell back and Delenn could see that the Centauri's throat was crushed.
And then he came, stepping from the shadows, holding his bloodstained pike in bloodstained hands. "I knew you would be coming soon," he said. even his voice sounded stained, not with blood, but with darkness. "I have called the security guards. They will be here soon. I came to this station to die, Delenn, but if I cannot die a warrior's death, then I will die a coward's one. I am a coward, Delenn. I threw away all my chances for redemption and all my chances for greatness when I answered that question. And now I have nothing. My chance for a warrior's death was taken from me by that creature there. Cole was far greater than I ever could be, but she took that greatness from him. There would have been no redemption in my killing of him, and there can be no redemption for me now.
"And so if I must die a coward, then I will die a coward's death in the company of the one person I ever loved.
"Will you bless me, Satai? One, last time?"
Delenn shrank back, hardly recognising her former lover in the being that stood before her. She and Tryfan had parted long before she had been elevated to the Council, when she became aware of her greater destiny, but she had always suspected that he had followed her progress, throughout the war and afterwards, even to the Rangers. He had never lost his love.
Why else would he send her a message when he came on board Babylon 5, asking her to meet him and bless him, and why else would she shrink away, afraid of what she had done and of what he had become?
"Delenn...."
She could not speak. Her only thought was of John's face.
How can you say that and ever expect me to trust you again?
The door opened and in rushed the security guards Shryne - no, Tryfan - had called, bringing in his own appointed death. Not that of a warrior, but that of a coward.
And with them was John.
"Delenn, stand back!" he cried, seeing only a threat to her. She looked between him and Shryne, and bowed her head, not seeing Shryne's lips twitch in a parody of a smile.
Shryne rushed forward, there was a burst of PPG fire, and she heard his body slump to the ground. This time he really was dead. Blast after blast had hit his body and not even his awesome willpower and sheer self-loathing could drive him further than that.
Delenn wondered whether he had found his peace at last, in a place where no shadows fell. She hoped so.
The security guards left, taking Shryne's body with them. It was hardly proper procedure, but Zack could sense the atmosphere between his Captain and the ambassador, and so he had beat a discreet exit. Delenn hardly noticed him.
Slowly, hesitantly, one word at a time, she explained to John what she had known about Shryne. He had listened silently, and when she was finished, she had looked up into his face, expecting to see anger or resentment, or hatred.
He said simply three words.
"I love you."
And she smiled sweetly and sadly and went into his arms.
* * * * * * *
"I am telling you, Stephen, I am not spending one minute more in this place or I will go insane."
"And I am telling you, if you don't take it easy, you'll tear that wound open and wind up straight back here. I've given you your food plan recommendations, and you are on light duty for the next week, and you are not to exert yourself."
"Oh now you tell me not to exert myself. That would have been useful information before I followed the advice of two idiots and got myself into this mess in the first place. I am telling you, Stephen, the next time I hear two men talking about honour and redemption and a warrior code, remind me to just leave them well alone."
"Would that happen to include Marcus?"
"None of your business."
"Why Susan, I do believe you're actually blushing."
"I am not!"
"It sure looks like it. It's either blushing or some serious circulation problems to your brain which will necessitate further tests...."
"You are an evil man."
"It's in the job description. It's funny, though. I haven't seen Marcus around recently. Normally he's in here most of the time looking for you, but I haven't seen him in the last few days."
"Maybe he's found something better to look at."
"Maybe the woman he's been looking at is an idiot."
"Maybe."
"Remember what I said. No over-exerting yourself, and if you and Marcus should happen to show up again with both your injuries aggravated, I'll be able to work out what you were doing, won't I? Susan.... you're blushing again...."
* * * * * * *
And then Susan Ivanova found out the news. Marcus had asked Delenn to keep the matter a secret until he was long done, and Delenn had done so, still too preoccupied to give the matter much thought. But Delenn had been unable to maintain the pretence in the face of Susan's earnest questioning about where Marcus was, and she had told her.
Delenn would never forget the crumbling in Susan's face as long as she lived. It was another gesture of betrayal, another one for whom Delenn cared and whom she had betrayed. She tried to explain, but she knew it wasn't reaching Susan at all. All Susan knew was that Marcus was gone, probably for good.
"Susan," Delenn said softly. "Susan...."
And then Susan had straightened and brushed down her uniform. "Thank you for telling me, Ambassador," she said. "I suppose all the relevant details have been entered on the Rangers' records."
"Yes," Delenn said slowly. "Susan.... are you.... all right?"
"Of, course, Ambassador. Why wouldn't I be?" Susan went to the door, bowed and left.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
It wasn't until she reached her quarters that Commander Susan Ivanova began to cry.
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