“Yes, General,” Sheridan replied. “I performed a scouting mission there while searching for sites for the Babylon Four mission. It was uninhabitable, deserted and worthless in itself, but it was found to be a suitable site for the…”
“We all know that, Captain,” spoke up Vice President Clark. “It appears that your scouting mission was a little lacking.”
“Vice President?” Sheridan was a master at the neutral tone when he wanted to be.
“Our probes have been picking up unusual seismic activity from the planet,” Hague said. “One of them was destroyed by some kind of long range weaponry. Very powerful weaponry. The planet Euphrates is not as worthless as it may have seemed.”
“You’ve hypothesised all this from one destroyed probe?”
“We’ve had a little… extra information on that score.”
“The planet is known to my friends,” spoke up a female voice. Sheridan kept his expression perfectly level, but he turned to see a woman step out from behind the table. “There was once a powerful, technologically advanced race living there. My friends came across some exiles from that race and they told us everything we needed to know.” Susan Ivanova smiled and Sheridan dug his fingernails deeper into his palms, keeping his hands behind his back.
“It appears that your scouting mission was sloppy, Captain,” said Clark. “I wonder where else you have been negligent.”
“With respect, Vice President,” Sheridan said coolly. “I had to perform complete scouting reports on four star systems in the space of three weeks at a time when the Babylon was poorly manned, poorly equipped and in poor condition.”
“We are at war, in case you hadn’t noticed. We have neither the resources nor the time to give you everything you ask for. You will simply have to make do with what you have, but we still expect nothing but the best from you. If you can’t give us that, then maybe we should appoint someone who can.”
“Morgan, please,” whispered President Crane wearily.
“Actually, the Captain is not to blame,” Ivanova said. “Almost certainly amongst the technology on that planet are sophisticated cloaking devices. If it weren’t for my friends’ prior knowledge, then I doubt anyone could find it.”
“Your instructions, Captain,” Hague said, “are to go to this planet, and make a full survey of the resources available to us. You are to lay claim to that planet in the name of the Earth Alliance and begin the construction of bases and encampments for scientists and tacticians to evaluate the technical resources there. If anyone… anyone at all – friend or foe – tries to stop us laying claim to those resources, then you are to destroy them. You are not to flee under any circumstances. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly, General. Will Miss Ivanova be accompanying us?”
“No,” Susan said. “I’m sure you can handle this one on your own. If you do need any more firepower however, I’m sure I could dispatch a few of my friends to go along with you.”
Sheridan nearly winced. He remembered what Susan’s friends had done to those two Minbari cruisers at Vega 7. “That will not be necessary. I’m sure they’ll be needed here in case the Minbari attack.”
“That need not concern you, Captain,” said President Crane. “The information we gained from the prisoner you brought – gained by Mr. Welles and verified telepathically by Miss Alexander – indicates that the Minbari will not attack until the power struggle within their Grey Council is resolved. They cannot choose a new leader until the period of mourning for their old one is over, and that will not happen for several months. You need not worry about the Minbari.”
“Yes, Madam President.” Sheridan made a formal bow and salute and stalked from the chamber. Only when he was outside did he realise that he had dug his fingernails so tightly into his palms that he had drawn blood.
* * * * * * *
“It could be a coincidence,” Corwin said. He looked at Sheridan’s furious expression. “All right, so maybe it’s not a coincidence.”
“She had to know. Somehow, Susan knew about this.” Sheridan was sitting casually in his small ready room off the bridge of the Babylon, lounging back in his chair and resting his feet up on the control panel. It was hardly the proper posture, but he didn’t care. “How could she have known?” He looked sharply at his second. “Have you had any contact with Miss Ivanova lately?”
“No. I don’t know what it is. It’s like she’s been avoiding me.”
“I did a little digging into her personnel file. It was exemplary. First class. That’s why she was entrusted with such a secretive and high class mission but… I don’t know what it is. There’s something… oh, I wish I could put my finger on it. I’m sorry to bother you with this, David, but have you noticed anything unusual… anything at all?”
“Aside from the fact that she’s been ignoring me completely for over two months?”
Sheridan groaned. “Aw hell. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No, sir. I have noticed something. She’s changed. She’s very different from the woman she was. It’s… almost like I’ve lost her again.”
Sheridan silently cursed himself. Why did he never notice these things? “I’m sorry, David. I shouldn’t have…”
“No, sir. We all have a duty to humanity, and to the Resistance Government. That takes precedence over private concerns.”
“Not always. How long until we get to Euphrates?”
“Three and a half hours or so.”
“Long enough. You – go and have a talk with G’Kar. Tell him how you feel. Believe it or not, he’s damned good at this sort of thing. That’s an order, Mr. Corwin. I know it won’t be easy, but at least talk to him. He has a rare gift, and we should at least get some use from it, don’t you think? Call it part payment for ferrying him out here. Mr. Corwin… that is an order.”
“Yes, sir.” Corwin did not move. “Sir? Who are you going to talk to?”
“I… don’t know.” Then he smiled softly. “Yes, I do.”
* * * * * * *
“Ah, Captain.” Delenn smiled softly. “It is… good to see you. My thanks for bringing Neroon’s message to me.”
“It was… my pleasure,” he said, looking at her carefully. She was seated on her small cot, hands folded demurely in her lap, seemingly at peace with the world and everything in it. Sheridan knew better. He’d read some of the transcripts from her interrogation by Mr. Welles, and he knew that Delenn was definitely not at peace, with anything. Beneath the demure exterior lurked a soul at conflict with itself, perhaps even more than Sheridan’s was.
Was that the reason he had come here? When all was said and done she was still a Minbari, and not just any Minbari, but a Satai. Welles had not uncovered the precise rôle she had played in the war, but Sheridan did know that she had been a powerful and respected member of the Grey Council. She had represented one side of a dangerous power struggle in the Council. How much blood was on her hands? How much of a part had she played in the instigation of war against his people? How much pain and loss did he owe to her?
And why had he come here seeking peace?
“Was I interrupting anything?” he said slowly, hesitantly.
“No,” she replied. “I was just… meditating. It has become harder for me of late.”
“You miss your friends? Your home?”
“I would be lying if I said that I did not, but no… it is more than that. I long ago accepted that I would go where I must, and I would go into darkness as easily as light.”
Sheridan shook his head. “I don’t think I caught any of that.”
“I am sorry. Our ways must seem… strange to you. I have little right to cling to them, I suppose. I am not on Minbar any longer. I am alone here, and fully aware of how I am regarded by those around me.”
“Nothing will happen to you,” he said. “Everyone on this ship knows that you are not to be harmed. They won’t disobey my orders. I promise you that.”
“I am not afraid, Captain. This body is but
a shell. There are few people who can touch me in any way as to hurt me.”
“But Welles did.” Delenn looked away slowly. “Welles managed it. I’ve read the transcripts of your questioning. I saw what you looked like when I got back. Look at me, Delenn!” She turned and met his eyes. “Everything he said to you was true, wasn’t it? Everything he got from you was true.”
Softly: “Yes. It was. The blood of billions is on my hands, and I can find no reason to justify it to myself. The war was not fought for a good cause, for duty, or honour, or light. It was fought for anger and pride and selfishness. It has taken me a long time to realise this, Captain. Far too long.”
“And so why am I continuing this war then?” he asked. “More pride, more selfishness, more anger? Well, tell me, Satai Delenn! Tell me!” He was shouting now, and she was visibly quailing from his verbal onslaught.
“No,” she whispered. “You are continuing the war because you do not know how to stop it.”
He stepped backwards slowly, a numbed feeling spreading through him. She was right, and he was right. Each of them was right about the other. That was precisely why their words hurt so much.
“And do you?” he whispered.
“No. I am afraid that I do not.”
Sheridan fished something out of his pocket and held it before her. It was the small metal triangle that he had taken from Delenn during her capture. She had called it a Triluminary, and had intended to use it to scan his soul. The Resistance Government did not know about it, and he was not sure why he had kept it.
Yes he did. It was important to her, and she was the closest thing he could find to a true kindred spirit in this whole damn life.
She met his eyes, her expression a mix of many things – fear, hope, despair. Slowly, he put the Triluminary away again.
“We should be at Euphrates soon,” he said. “I’ll have to return to the bridge.”
“Of course,” she whispered. “Thank you for coming, Captain.”
“It… was… a pleasure. My pleasure.” He looked at her and then left. He had to talk to G’Kar, and try and get some more answers from Zathras and try and find out what he could expect to find there.
He had expected that he would not be alone, but he had not expected what would be waiting there for him.
Someone else knew about the Great Machine.
Chapter 2
Alyt Kalain was, first and foremost, a warrior, and proud to be so. He still remembered the first day he had set foot upon the Trigati, the ship that was to become his home. It had been a moment of pride, and power and duty. He had knelt before the ship’s commander – Sinoval – and had sworn his loyalty. That had been over twenty-five cycles ago, and during that time Kalain had risen far. He now captained the Trigati, and had done so ever since Sinoval was raised to the Grey Council. Kalain had been a part of the climax of the jihad against the Earthers. With Sinoval watching, he had torn the heart from the Earth Alliance, enacting fitting justice for the murder of Dukhat.
His victory had been hollow, however. The memory of his glory over Earth had been forever tarnished by the memory of his shame over Mars. Kalain and the Trigati had been leading the attack on the Earther colony there, cleaning up after the destruction of Earth, when, tearing through the heavens like a demon creature from legend, there came a ship he would later know to be the Babylon, captained by John Sheridan.
The Babylon, acting on pure fury and little else, had torn apart the Minbari defences, and borne down upon the ship containing the Grey Council itself. Kalain had tried to respond, but his warrior nerve had left him at the sight of that ship, and he had panicked. Sinoval was before the Grey Council themselves, and the Trigati had been leaderless, standing by paralysed as Sheridan tore out the heart of the Grey Council. Two dead – one warrior, one religious – three more badly wounded and still sorely ill, mere shadows of their former selves. Sheridan had escaped, whatever fury had driven him giving way to the practicalities of common sense, and Kalain had been left to deal with his guilt.
He had tried to atone. In fact, he had tried suicide in penance, but Sinoval had found him, and stopped him. There were new days coming, Sinoval had said. He had been elevated to Satai in place of the dead warrior, and he would need a loyal cadre of followers. A new dawn was beginning, and the war must be the catalyst that swept away the old, and brought the Minbari back to their rightful place in the galaxy. Kalain had listened, and wept, and begged for forgiveness. Sinoval could not grant forgiveness, and he had told Kalain why:
I cannot forgive you, Alyt Kalain. Only the dead can do that. But you can forgive yourself. Let your deeds after this moment be enough to expiate your failure. Perform your penance for the sake of our people.
And Kalain had agreed. The Trigati, badly damaged during the war, had been rebuilt and strengthened, and made the new flagship for a new Minbari fleet. Kalain was proud once more, but this time for his people and not for himself. The Trigati was needed to replace the Dralaphi and to fight in the greatest war of all. Not against the Earthers, but against the Shadows.
Kalain had been told the full truth by Sinoval, one of a handful who knew. A ship belonging to the Ancient Enemy had been uncovered below the surface of Mars during the assault on that planet. It had tried to rise, and been destroyed. A second had been found on a moon belonging to the largest planet of their solar system. This one, the Enemy had returned for. There had been a bloody and devastating battle fought over Ganymede, a battle that had left four Minbari cruisers destroyed and hundreds dead. The Shadows were returning, and the Rangers were formed to meet them. The Rangers would need a flagship, and that flagship would be the Trigati.
Kalain knew Branmer – the former Ranger One – well. In fact, he had served Branmer during the war. Branmer had been a great man, but he had been too soft. He had not been strong enough to fight this war the way it should have been fought, and now he was dead, and there was no one to lead. Alyt Neroon, Branmer’s aide, was gone. Kalain was not a Ranger, and had no wish to lead them. That place belonged to Sinoval, as it now did.
Sinoval, now Entil’zha, had come to Kalain a few days before. He had spoken again of his dreams, and of his ambitions and of the part that Kalain would play in them. He had brought someone else along with him – an old, feeble man named Draal – a man who had taught all three religious members of the Grey Council. Draal had gone to Satai Lennann and had asked for his help on a matter of some importance. A mission to a desolate planet, to take two people – Draal and one other – and to leave them there. Those were the official details, but in private, Sinoval had mentioned something else. The planet was more than it seemed. There was power there, a power that could not be simply abandoned to an old man and a mysterious alien.
The planet the humans called Euphrates now had to belong to the Minbari.
And now that he was here, Kalain could only find one problem. Emerging from the skies again, a dark fury in its motion, a terrible beauty in its flight, was the EAS Babylon.
Aboard which would be Captain John Sheridan.
The Starkiller.
* * * * * * *
“It’s a Minbari cruiser all right, Captain,” Lieutenant Franklin said. “A big one.”
Sheridan groaned softly and looked down at G’Kar and Zathras. The Narn was standing patient and still next to Sheridan’s chair. Zathras was running about, examining things, and generally getting in everyone’s way.
“Have they seen us yet?” Sheridan asked.
“Almost certainly.”
“Fine. Power up forward batteries, and activate red alert. Launch Starfury squadrons Alpha and Delta and ready a fusion bomb.” Sheridan drew in a deep breath and sat back. The fury of battle was starting to rise in him now. He welcomed it gladly. There were few constants in his life, but battle was one of them. It was the one thing he did well, and the one thing he could do that mattered to anyone.
“Captain,” said G’Kar. “We do not need to fight here.”
“With al
l respect, G’Kar, they’re Minbari, and they’re doubtless after the same thing that we are. We don’t have time to debate the issue.”
“You have one of their Satai imprisoned on this very ship. Surely they will not open fire and risk killing her.”
“They did last time.”
“It cannot hurt to make them aware of this.”
Sheridan looked at G’Kar, saw the wisdom in his eyes. “And what do you know about this?” he asked Zathras.
“Varn send out many of us. He not being sure of right one to replace him. He intend in gathering all viable choices at Great Machine, let Great Machine choose. Click, click One does not choose the Machine, no no no. The Machine chooses you. Click”
“And one of those other choices is a Minbari? Not a hope. I was told to take custody of that planet, and I’m going to…” Sheridan paused and looked and G’Kar. The Narn made a motion that was probably a shrug.
“Captain?” asked Commander Corwin.
“Aw hell. Launch the Starfury squadrons, and keep the forward batteries powered up. Broadcast a message in Interlac telling them we have Satai Delenn on board, and get her up here to the bridge. If they so much as blink in our direction, blast them.”
“Yes, sir,” Franklin said. “And for dessert, strawberry ice cream.”
“Vanilla, Lieutenant Franklin. I hate strawberries.” Sheridan looked at G’Kar. “Now what?”
“That.”
Sheridan looked where G’Kar was pointing. His eyes widened.
“Good God.”
* * * * * * *
“I am telling you, Alyt Kalain, we will not attack that ship!”
Kalain regarded Draal sharply. His patience for the old man was limited in the extreme. This was a mission carried out for Sinoval, not for Draal and that absurd little alien. “I am Captain here,” he replied harshly. “And my orders will be obeyed.”
His words were stern, but they could not disguise the fear that he felt. This was Sheridan, the Starkiller. Kalain had followed Sheridan’s progress ever since the incident over Mars, picking at his shame irrationally. The involvement in the Narn / Centauri War. The destruction of the Emphili and the Dogato. His capture on Vega 7 and his escape from Minbar itself, with Satai Delenn.
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