The ships were still, hanging motionless in air, staring at each other, every one ready to fire. On one side the dreaded
And in the middle was Cathedral, the dark citadel wherein reigned the man whose name was whispered in terror and awe and fear.
Sinoval the Accursed, himself.
His voice came across their channels, in languages they could all understand.
'To the Alliance: this battle is over. We will leave, myself and these others. They will retreat from Centauri Prime and those who so desire may come with me. Any who are left you may do with as you please. Try to stop us leaving....'
Even across the comm channel, even without the immediacy of his presence, everyone listening shuddered.
'And you will regret it.'
Fleet-Captain Bethany Tikopai contacted Babylon 5, and Commander Kulomani.
'Let them leave,' the Brakiri said simply.
'But, sir....'
'Fight them and we will die. Your mission was to protect Centauri Prime. That will be done. Any of the raiders who remain are to be stopped, by any means necessary. Secure the defence of the planet and contact the authorities on the surface. Centauri Prime has been deliberately left unguarded, and someone will answer for this.
'But do not engage with Sinoval! None of you.'
'Yes, sir.'
'To the raiders, to the Songless, to the Bannerless: I offer you songs. I offer you purpose. The worthy and the just may join with me. The others may choose to remain here and die. Come with me, if you so desire, and be judged. Reject me, and I leave you to the mercy of the Alliance and the Centauri.'
Co-ordinates were sent over, to all Alliance and Brotherhood ships.
'My lord of darkness and fury and vengeance,' Moreil whispered. 'You came to us, as was promised, as was prophesied. Under your dark hand we shall destroy our enemies and raise a banner once more. The galaxy will shake at our footsteps.
'Oh, yes, my lord. I will follow you to the gates of heaven themselves.'
'Commander?' one of his crew asked him. Dasouri looked at the silent image of Cathedral. They could not find the captain. Marrago's comm was silent.
'We go,' Dasouri said. 'What choice do we have?'
'To the Centauri: I give you back your world. Think about those who would have tried to take it from you. Think about those who would have let it be taken from you. Think and open your eyes and appreciate the world you have.'
In the throne room, Timov shivered slightly on the Purple Throne. 'Well,' she said. 'What an.... intense young man.'
Durla's eyes were shining.
At that point one of the servants ran into the room, panting and exhausted and close to collapse. 'Lady!' he cried. 'Lady!'
'What? And I do have a name, you know.'
'It is the Emperor!'
The Brotherhood and the Tuchanq went with him of course. As Dasouri said, what choice did they have?
The Alliance let them go. What choice did they have?
It was like looking out on a whole new world, a new day, with new eyes. A new person.
General John Sheridan had woken early this morning and risen quietly, so as not to wake Delenn. He had showered and dressed and wandered out into the wide world, his eyes truly open for the first time in almost three years.
As he reached the door, he stopped and looked back. Delenn was still sleeping, flat on her back, facing the ceiling. She had never really adapted to human sleeping habits and still preferred to lie on her back. She looked very still, almost as if she were dead.
For the first time he noticed a streak of grey in her hair. Once it had been raven black, as deep and vibrant as her soul. Now there was grey. Only a little, but it was there. Even in sleep she looked careworn and tired and.... old.
How must he look?
He had left, not wanting to wake her. He would have to talk to her, but later. He felt as though he had been defined by her for too long. What he wanted now was to know himself. Alone and isolated, as Sinoval had tried to force him to be. Strip away the surface, the surroundings. Remove Delenn and the Alliance and the
He did not know. Not even Sinoval had been able to force that understanding on to him.
It was there. All he had to do was find it.
Himself.
And so he walked, aimlessly, his feet taking him in whatever direction they wished. One tiny fragment of chaos. He was not sure if he liked that or not, but he would trust to it. He was so buried in order, that he had lost almost everything but the machine in which he was a cog.
Perhaps by taking the other path he could become something more.
He began to whistle softly on his journey.
Darkness and shadows. The means of his existence. His means of communication.
There were many ironies in this galaxy, and Lennier, once of the Third Fane of Chudomo, had no time to appreciate even half of them. He was a Ranger, a servant of the light. He had once worn that symbol with pride, the sunburst on his chest. He had believed in the light.
And yet he carried his darkness with him, a Keeper permanently attached to his body and his mind. He hid and skulked and moved in the shadows, gathering information as a spy. He had remained hidden for two years, concealing himself from the light.
He was a warrior of the light.
He was a Ranger.
All he had to do was to keep telling himself that.
'There is nothing more we can do,' said his companion. Lennier was not really listening. He was standing at the side of the window, looking out. A small group of children was running down the street, laughing and shouting, playing some incomprehensible game. A girl followed them, shouting to them to wait so that she could catch up.
'We have to leave!' Ta'Lon hissed.
It had been a big risk for them to meet up like this. The Thenta Ma'Kur assassins were hunting for them both, as were the more regular Narn security forces. In their own separate ways, both had uncovered a great deal of darkness within the Narn homeworld. Unfortunately they had made themselves a little too visible — and vulnerable — in the process, and were hunted men as a consequence.
And G'Kar was missing.
'This is the home of my people,' Ta'Lon said. 'I was not born here, but my people were. These rocks are our bones, this wind is our breath, this water is our blood. More than anything else, more than the Rangers, more than even Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar himself, I am sworn to defend it.'
'I am sworn to nothing,' Lennier said quietly. 'All the things I do are done because I choose them.
'I choose them!' he hissed to his Keeper.
'And I choose to find G'Kar.'
'Maybe he is dead. The signal stopped, but it will have reached the Alliance, and it will have reached the Vorlons. If they try to send their Inquisitors and their
