'Fine. I wanted to be.... my brother. He was two years older than I was, and he knew.... everything. He knew all the places to go, all the cool people, all the things to do. He wanted to stay here all his life. He looked after me when my mother went to prison. She.... refused to take the sleepers, you see. They didn't have special Psi Corps camps here, so she just went to a regular prison. I think she spent most of her time in solitary.
'Anyway, my brother looked after me then. He died when I was thirteen. He was trying to climb into a construction site, and he slipped and cut himself on a sharp bit of wire fence. The cut turned bad. Oh, he could have gone to a hospital up-sector, but he didn't have any medical insurance. Besides, he kept telling me it was all going to be fine, and he'd get better any day now. It took him a couple of weeks to die, and he was delirious by the end.'
Smith shook his head. 'Such a stupid way to go. I didn't realise it at the time, but he'd shown me just how futile it was to stay here. There was nothing here, no hope, no future, no life, nothing. So I left.'
'And now you've come back,' she whispered softly.
'Yes.... There's still nothing here of course, but maybe there could be.... if someone worked hard enough at it.'
She smiled and nodded. Then she lay back down and gently took his hand. He held hers and closed his eyes, drifting slowly off to sleep. She lay awake long into the night, waiting for the voices to return.
Sinoval stood on the pinnacle of Cathedral and roared his defiance to the heavens. Stormbringer raised high above his head, he looked down at the stars below and above and around, and cried out his anger and his hatred and his fury.
Words did not exist to describe his anger. Not only had the Vorlons dared to send Delenn to her death, but they had corrupted the genuine love in her decision. She had sacrificed her life so that the one she loved could live, and now they had twisted that. John Sheridan as she knew him did not live. Not any longer.
He was not sure exactly what the Vorlons had done to the Starkiller. It was possible that there was something remaining of the old Sheridan. It was equally possible that he was nothing more than a soulless automaton, moving and talking by their word alone. It did not matter either way. Their touch befouled him, filled his mind and his body.
Sinoval would destroy them all. He would raze their cities to the ground, topple their towers and sow their ground with salt. Nothing would remain, and within a generation no one would even remember they had ever existed.
And he knew what to do to begin this.
The curtain of stars around him shimmered, and the Primarch Majestus et Conclavus walked into view. The pinnacle at the top of Cathedral's highest tower, which just a moment ago had seemed barely wide enough for Sinoval to stand, now grew so that there was ample room for both of them.
'Our business at Kazomi Seven is concluded?' he said.
'Yes.'
'Then are we to return to Tarolin Two?'
'Yes.'
The Primarch bowed his head in acknowledgement. He did not leave, however.
'The Well of Souls spoke to me,' he said, after a long pause. 'It has the power of prophecy. It is a limited ability. The future after all has many alternative possibilities, but some things become inevitable over time.'
'I do not believe in prophecy, or in destiny.'
'That does not matter. Both prophecy and destiny believe in you.'
There was another pause. Sinoval did not take his eyes off the myriad of stars around him. 'So,' he said finally. 'What words of foreboding has the Well of Souls for me?'
'A time of great crisis is coming. For Cathedral, for all our order, and for you most especially. They speak of the doom of Aellearath.' Sinoval turned, a puzzled expression on his face. 'The shedding of innocent blood.'
'No blood I shed is innocent.'
'Perhaps. Nevertheless, a moment is coming, within weeks, when Cathedral will be shaken to its foundation, and a great change will sweep over us all.'
'Change is not always bad.'
'Not always, no.'
Sinoval smiled. 'It appears the Well of Souls may be right, this time. I have.... been toying with an idea for some time now. At first it was just idle speculation. When it became apparent this course of action might become necessary, I resolved not to put it into effect until I could be sure there was no other way. There is not.
'We are at war with the Vorlons. I have promised to destroy them utterly, and so I shall. But first I will need information, knowledge.... and to send them a warning.
'Primarch, I have a question for you.
'Tell me, Primarch, in all the history of your order, ever since the Well of Souls was first born, has any of your order ever taken a Vorlon soul?'
Delenn opened her eyes.
She did not know where she was. She did not think she had seen this room before. She was still on Z'ha'dum, she knew that much. She could feel the thickness of the air, the darkness of the ground, and the ancient presence deep beneath the surface. Lorien was still watching her, with a great sadness.
She sat up, and realised she was on a bed. This might be a hospital of some kind. She saw the outline of a humanoid being at the far end of the room. It turned to look at her, and in its alien face she saw no pity, no mercy, no emotion at all. One of the Shadows' scientists.
Then the scientist moved deeper into the darkness, and Ambassador Sheridan came into view through a door she could only barely see. He walked up to her side.
'The Zener told me you would awaken soon,' he said simply. 'They knew your injuries were not severe, and that you would recover.'
'What of.... What about Neroon?' she asked. 'And Ivanova?'
'Neroon is dead, Ivanova lost. They do not matter, you do. You cannot escape. Do you realise that now?'
'I do,' she said simply. 'I do not wish to escape.'
His eyes narrowed. 'What do you mean?'
'We need to talk....'
The Allied Council of Kazomi 7 met several times in the days immediately after the departure of Primarch Sinoval. Captain Sheridan was in attendance for most of those meetings, studying plans and strategies of the Shadow attacks, observing the locations of their assaults, advising and co-ordinating the response. His plans were little more than holding actions and preventative safeguards, rather than fully fledged counterattacks. No one questioned him about this.
Emperor Londo Mollari was also present, discussing the cease-fire arrangements with Ambassador G'Kael. The Kha'Ri were less than receptive even to the idea of such negotiations, as were the Centarum. Two months after his arrival at Kazomi 7, Emperor Londo Mollari returned home with very little achieved. Still, he had been able to establish an embassy there. He made arrangements to start setting up an office, to renew trade agreements and to begin appointing staff. All he needed now was an Ambassador.
Ambassador Ulkesh Naranek was seen in public quite often. Lyta Alexander was not.
Vorlon ships slowly became visible in the skies above Kazomi 7. Ambassador Ulkesh did not even seem to acknowledge their presence, but it soon became clear they were guarding the planet.
A month after Captain Sheridan's return, all the Vorlon ships mysteriously left, to be replaced by new ships.
They were smaller than the Vorlon heavy cruisers, and did not seem to be particularly Vorlon in design. They were small, but very manoeuvrable. As Captain Sheridan explained to a stunned Alliance Council, they were comparable in firepower to even the largest capital class ships of the other races, and they were also much faster. The Vorlons had designed them especially for this war, and now they were being presented to the Alliance.
'They are called
