“Then tell that to Delenn. She knew him, and she loved him. Tell her you are sorry. Not me.”
Sheridan looked at G’Kar and then bowed his head. He left, returning to his shuttle. He missed seeing G’Kar look around in awe and terror. “Blessed G’Quan,” he breathed. “Have I done the right thing?”
“Of course,” replied Zathras. “Of course. We will teach you how to use the Machine, and you will use it. A fortress of light. All alone in the night, but at least there is one hope now.”
“I suppose so. I will have to contact Neroon and Ta’Lon. Our previous fortress was destroyed. We have a new one now.”
“Good good. Yes, very good. Sometimes, things do work out right.”
“Not for all of us.”
Zathras shared G’Kar’s gaze at Draal. “No. No, not for all, but sometimes, for some, things go right. What more is there?”
G’Kar suddenly started. He didn’t know quite what, but he knew that something was wrong. But…
“Don’t worry,” Zathras said. “Not for us to interfere. Is destiny, yes. We were not involved then, we cannot be involved now.”
“But…” G’Kar suddenly realised. “I did this. The Machine did. Or… I will do this?”
Zathras smiled.
* * * * * * *
Sheridan returned to the Babylon, and listened as Corwin listed the four dead in the battle, and the damage to the hull and other systems. The Great Machine had launched a number of missiles to keep the two ships from destroying each other, and one of those missiles had done some damage to the jump engines.
Once more the Babylon had survived, but there was always a cost. Marcus had been quite badly hurt when his Starfury had been destroyed, but he had been recovered and taken to Medlab. Dr. Kyle said he only needed rest.
Sheridan hardly noticed any of this. He simply asked Satai Delenn to meet him on the observation deck. He looked at the planet sadly, and watched as the Trigati left. Another enemy made, another death at his hands, four more of his crew gone.
He hadn’t completed his mission either. Euphrates did not belong to the Earth Alliance. It had been taken by a Narn to use in fighting an Enemy who was in all likelihood the very same ally who was bringing hope to the Earth Alliance.
Sheridan would catch more trouble from the Resistance Government for this, but he didn’t care. Them he could deal with. He didn’t think he could cope with telling Delenn how he had killed her friend.
But he had learned how to do what was difficult, and when she arrived, two security guards flanking her, he looked at her, and slowly, methodically, relayed the details of Draal’s death.
She bowed her head, and was unable to speak for a while, and when she did, she said, “I knew. Somehow I knew it when he died. He was all that remained of my father.”
“I… aw hell. I’m sorry. It was… an accident.”
“I do not blame you, Captain. Nor do I blame Kalain, nor G’Kar. It simply was, but that does not make it easier to bear. I… I will see him again when my soul is reborn, or when I pass beyond the veil, but for now… it seems that everyone I have ever loved is lost to me. My father, Dukhat, Neroon, Mayan, and now Draal. I am alone.”
Sheridan could not find anything to say. He simply turned and looked out at the planet below. It seemed so peaceful now, so tranquil. An unlikely place for a new fortress of Light.
“He is down there?” she said. He nodded. “And he died trying to serve?” Another nod. “He would have sacrificed himself for others?” Nod. “Then he would have died happy. I am pleased for him.”
Sheridan looked at her, and met her eyes. She met his in turn, and there was silence, as the two spoke without words.
And then Fate intervened. The whole ship lurched. Sheridan fell back against the wall, while Delenn steadied herself against the plastic. Sheridan activated his link.
“Corwin, what the hell’s happening? Are we under attack?”
“No, sir. Tachyon emissions. They’ve gone up through the roof. God knows what… my God!”
“Corwin, what?” And then Sheridan saw it too. Appearing from nowhere in front of him, directly in his view. And he recognised it.
And he wasn’t the only one. “Blessed Valen!” Delenn breathed.
“That’s impossible!”
She turned to him. “You recognise it?”
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s Babylon Four.”
Part V: The Shadow of her Past, the Illusion of his Future
Chapter 1
It was the dawn of the third age of mankind, as we would later call it. At the time it seemed unlikely that mankind would ever finish this age, but we had hope, and we had heroes, and one of those heroes was Captain John Sheridan, and some of that hope came from a race called the Shadows…
Commander David Corwin, personal diaries, dated December 2260.
* * * * * * *
The Shadows were coming.
He listened as they died, and as they killed. His friends were dying in his name, were fighting a last stand so that he could complete his destiny. He wanted to be there with them, this one last time, but he knew that they were dying for his sake. He could not render their sacrifice worthless.
Are you ready? said the voice in his mind.
He didn’t know what to say, but the voice knew. Good. You are the closed circle returning to the beginning. I cannot be with you then.
He gasped as he felt its pain. It was light and beauty and agony all in one. The Vorlon was going to die, and both of them knew it. The sacrifice would be made willingly. Could he do any less?
“Are you ready?” said the voice from the commscreen. “Are you…?”
“I… think so,” he said hesitantly. “I… thank you. For everything.”
“It was no more than my duty, and no less than my pleasure. Be well, and walk with… Oh. Of course.”
He chuckled. “It is all right. For you, it will always be all right.”
“Remember me?” More of a question than a request. He smiled, sweetly and sadly. As if there were any other answer.
“Always,” he whispered, and touched the image on the commscreen gently. It faded and he straightened. It was time now. After so long, he at last knew his destiny. He was the arrow that springs from the bow. No doubts, no fears. Just certainty.
“Are you ready?” said the voice by his side.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“Good, good. Yes, is being very good to being ready. Now is right time to being ready, yes. Zathras is being ready for long time, yes. Zathras has grown tired of waiting sometimes, but Zathras is used to it. Zathras is patient. And now you are ready, yes. Good.”
“What about the Enemy?”
“Click, click Is being not good. Enemy is being very strong. May get on board before we leave. That is being very not good, but have idea, yes. We get help. That is idea. We get help.”
“Help? From where?” He was told, and then he smiled. “Ah, of course.”
And the man who had been called Jeffrey Sinclair, and the alien called Zathras, entered the place called Babylon 4 – named in memory and honour – and they passed into history and legend.
But there were some for whom history and legend were present and fact. Two such were watching legend combine with reality, one with an almost beautiful awe, and the other with a pragmatic sense of the possible.
Who is to say which one was right in their reaction?
* * * * * * *
“Blessed Valen!” she gasped.
“That’s impossible!” he cried.
“You recognise it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “That’s Babylon Four.”
“What… is Babylon Four?”
Captain John Sheridan turned to Satai Delenn, and tried to frame an answer. Mere moments before, they had been standing on the observation deck, talking quietly about life and death and everything in between, and simply staring at the stars. And now he was staring at a piece of his past – and his future.
Before he could answer, his link sounded. It was Corwin. “Captain, tachyon emissions are stabilising, but they aren’t our only problem. You’d better get up here fast, and bring our guest with you. This is Grade A weird.”
* * * * * * *
“It is Babylon Four, then?”
“Definitely,” Corwin replied. “It matches the plans almost exactly, the location’s dead on, and it’s, well… identical to all the plans and specs I ever saw about it. That’s Babylon Four, no doubt about it.”
Sheridan groaned and sat down heavily, burying his head in his hands. “Why can’t I ever have a normal day, like normal people?”
“You’d be bored stiff, sir. And you know it.”
“I wouldn’t mind a bit of boredom once in a while.”
“Both of you recognise that?” asked Satai Delenn. Corwin shot her an awkward glance. He was barely comfortable with the idea of a Minbari being on board the ship, least of all her. The Captain seemed to trust her, and therefore he could cope with it, but he always made sure she was closely watched at all times, and her room was guarded. All in the interests of security, he kept telling himself. Whatever the Captain might say, Delenn was still a Minbari, and Corwin had a long memory. Although not even the worst amnesiac in the galaxy could ever forget what the Minbari had done to humanity.
Corwin had not been on Earth when the Minbari had destroyed it. No one who had was still alive, but he had been on Mars, and he had seen the Minbari fleets filling the skies. And he had seen the Babylon, tearing through those self-same skies, which were full of stars, and each star was one ray of hope in three years of despair.
Very few people aboard the Babylon knew of each other’s pasts. Some, like the Captain, had been in Earthforce before and during the war. Some, like Lieutenants Franklin and Connally had had other plans and dreams – he to be a doctor, she to be the hope of the downtrodden worker – torn from them. Some, like Corwin, had no past, or none that they would admit to, and none that mattered any more. The past was dead, and there was only the future.
But still, he had a long memory, and even having Satai Delenn on this ship grated at him. Having her in the Captain’s ready room seemed almost sacrilegious. But if the Captain wanted her here…
“Yes,” Corwin said. “And so do you.” He caught the flicker in her eyes as he said that, and he knew his guess had proved accurate. Quite a few aboard the Babylon knew of the Babylon 4 mission – they had been so instrumental in its planning that the station had been named after the ship itself, but how Satai Delenn could know about this would be fascinating to hear. Especially in light of the… ah, unusual circumstances here.
“It’s called Babylon Four,” Sheridan said, raising his head. “It was the fourth in a series of secret missions and agendas called the Babylon Project – named after this ship, of course.
“Babylon Four was to be a secret base. Proxima Three was just a little too open. We wanted somewhere quieter and out of the way, somewhere for the Resistance Government to hide, somewhere a little more easily defended than Proxima Three. A space station, packed to the core with the best weaponry systems we could muster. A place of defence, and later, offence. Plans were drawn up, we did extensive scouting missions to find a suitable place, and we found here. Above a deserted planet. Perfect.”
Corwin could see Delenn alternating her gaze between him and the Captain. He met her eyes with a steely determination and he was quite surprised to see sadness in hers when she recognised this.
“But?” she said.
“But it was never damn well built!”
Corwin could see her staring at Sheridan, perhaps surprised by the bitterness in his voice, and why not? Although he doubted the wisdom of telling all this to a Minbari Satai, he decided to continue.
“We were all ready to go when we lost Orion Four and Seven and most of the Belt Alliance. Over half our financial and mineral resources gone in a matter of weeks.”
He could see the emotion in the Captain’s eyes. Sheridan had lost more at Orion than just some money or minerals. He had lost his daughter – buried beneath a collapsed building. With Elizabeth, he had also lost his wife. While Anna was still alive in a physical sense, emotionally, she was quite dead.
“All our remaining resources had to go on feeding the refugees we managed to get away from Orion,” Corwin continued, never taking his eyes off Delenn. “It wasn’t enough. Twenty thousand starved that year.”
“But we can’t dwell on the past now, Mr. Corwin,” the Captain suddenly spoke up. “Any word on anyone on the station?”
“Just this.” Corwin went over to a control panel and activated the communications system.
– eridan and Zha’valen Delenn to come over and meet with us. They must come alone. We repeat. We would like Captain Sheridan and Zha’valen Delenn to come over and meet with us. They must come alone. We repeat –
“Just that. Over and over again. It’s got all the right Earthforce identification codes, but I would be interested to know how they knew the two of you would be here.”
“Mr. Corwin. A space station that hasn’t been built appears from over above a planet that’s supposed to be deserted but contains awesomely powerful technological resources, and you’re worried about how they knew I’d be here? The codes are genuine?”
“One hundred percent. What do you think? Some kind of Black Ops mission? A secret project? Some sort of cloaking device, perhaps?”
“Secret enough for me not to know about it?”
“Point, but it’s a fair bet that someone knows something about it.” Corwin looked at Delenn. “Don’t you?”
“I… yes,” she breathed, looking directly at the Captain. “We must go, Captain. It is very important that we do so.”
“It could be a trap,” Corwin said flatly. “I’d advise taking a Security team along.”
“It said we should go alone, Mr. Corwin.”
“What was that title the message gave you?” Corwin asked Delenn. “Zha’valen? Some kind of Minbari rank?”
“It… it is nothing. I possess no such title. Please, Captain, we must go. I cannot tell you why, but we must.”
Corwin caught the Captain’s gaze. She was lying – at least partially – and all three of them knew it. There was an old saying humans had picked up from the Centauri.
’Minbari never tell anyone the whole truth.’
“She’s right, David. Whatever this is, I have to know. Launch two Starfury squadrons and keep them on constant flyby. We’ll take a shuttle over. At the first sign of trouble, blast that thing, and don’t worry about me.”
“Captain, I…” Corwin flicked another glance at Delenn. “I don’t trust her. I think you should take a Security team along. I can contact Mr. Allan, we can…”
“It said to go alone, David.”
Corwin sighed. “Fine, fine, but… be careful, sir.”
The Captain seemed to consider this advice for a moment and then he chuckled. “That’d be far too easy, Mr. Corwin. Far too easy.”
* * * * * * *
She’d made it aboard after all. She and her allies could have easily wiped out their opponents, but that wouldn’t have brought them victory if they hadn’t stopped this station. Dying was just what her opponents wanted.
Dying in their holy cause. How noble of them!
No, death was preferable to the pain of living, but she knew enough to be aware of her responsibility – to the ones who had saved her, and to the one who had loved her.
A few of her opponents had survived and managed to escape. A few more had been captured. The others had been killed. She wondered if they had died happy, suspecting their deaths were buying them victory.
They had been wrong. There was no victory for the Army of Light today, and there would not even be the memory of one. They would have had no victories for the past thousand years.
For she would stop them.
Susan Ivanova and her Shadow companions were hitching a lift aboard Babylon 4
to the past. All they had to do was kill the man called Jeffrey Sinclair.
And then the war would be over a thousand years before it had ever begun.
* * * * * * *
“So?”
“I am sorry?” Delenn looked at Sheridan carefully. He more than any other human she found difficult to understand, although she had admittedly had little contact with other humans to use as reference.
Welles was the result of the worst of the war: a man with great gifts who had become so hard and cold that he could only use those gifts to give pain in the name of duty and anguish in the name of service.
Miss Alexander seemed almost subdued, living her life by rote because she lacked the will to do anything else.
Commander Corwin and the security guards she had met – including the two who had beaten her – were either suspicious of her or plain hated her, still fighting a war in which she was the enemy, not knowing or not caring just who they were selling themselves to in the name of victory.
And Captain Sheridan? He combined all these traits and many more. He possessed great gifts, and used them to kill. She knew the rage he could manifest, having seen it at horrifying first hand, but she also remembered the act of mercy he had shown her – the only mercy she had ever been shown by a human being. She had even let him watch her as she slept, reminded almost absurdly of both her father, and of the ancient ritual of sleep watching between two who were intended. It felt both absurd and strangely right to her. She wondered how it had felt to him. She was nowhere near an answer, but she suspected that neither was he.
He had so much power, so much potential, but where would it fall? He was walking a thin line between Light and Darkness. One simple push could send him either way. She knew that it was her destiny to bring him to the correct path.
“So,” he said. “What do you know about Babylon Four and what did that title mean? I know you didn’t want to talk about it in front of Corwin, but you are going to have to tell me.”
She breathed in sharply. What to tell him? Could she even accept this herself, and if she could not, then how could he? Could she even expect him to believe her?
The Other Half of my Soul addm-1 Page 18