The Zener had scattered. Some had gone with their Dark Masters, others had stayed. They the Vorlons wanted most of all, for it was they who had crafted the weapons of biotechnology and chemical warfare that the Shadows had used so effectively. Some had been caught, some had been killed, but some remained free.
The Streib had retreated. Never truly a vassal race of the Shadows, they had simply taken advantage of the chaos they brought. That was enough for them to be hunted and pursued. Their ships no longer raided, no longer hunted. They settled in their homeworld and hid.
The byakheeshaggai were all dead, the last one slain by the Vorlons on Centauri Prime. None remained, here or beyond the Rim.
There were others of course. The Z'shailyl, the Moradiin, the Faceless. Lorien watched them all, just as He watched everything else that transpired in the galaxy. He watched the building of Babylon 5. He watched the Drazi fall and be conquered. He watched peace and order come at last to the Tuchanq. He watched the others, the last survivors of races almost as old as His, move at last, returning to attend to the fate of the galaxy after so long in silence. He watched Sebastian awake and walk forth on his mission.
And when, at the end of the Earth year 2262, Ulkesh came to see Him in His hidden sanctum, as he had more than once in the last year, He asked the same question He had on every other occasion.
'Tell me. Have you found Cathedral yet?'
The answer was always the same.
It was so quiet. So new. Crafted fully formed from hopes and aspirations and dreams. Every bit of metal, every bolt, every door, every room, every piece of equipment.
It was all so new, and yet it seemed haunted.
As G'Kar walked slowly through the corridors of Babylon 5 he could not shake that feeling. He had not used to believe in ghosts. But that was before. Before he had met Londo. Before the Machine. Before the War.
Now he thought he believed in almost everything.
It was finished. Babylon 5 was finished, almost ready to go on line. Oh, there would still be improvements and modifications to be made, little bits of tweaking here and there, but for the most part it was done.
And was it worth it? Was it worth the expense? And not just in financial terms. The Drazi had rebelled partly because of this station. He had heard reports from Centauri Prime of famine and drought exacerbated by the crippling payments made to the Alliance. There were whispers of protest from Narn.
And was it worth it? What price peace?
He could not find an answer.
He walked into the room that had been designated as the conference hall, the place where the representatives would meet, where the decisions would be taken, where the fate of worlds would turn.
The Vorlon turned to look at him. Its encounter suit was pure white, unmarked by any other colour, unsullied and clean. G'Kar understood that in some cultures white meant purity and virtue.
All he could see in that gleaming whiteness were bones. Bones of the dead.
A light twinkled in the Vorlon's eye stalk and G'Kar took a slow step back. For one moment it had looked as if a skull was smiling at him.
He placed his fists together on his chest and bowed his head slightly. As far as he knew he was one of the first people on Babylon 5 apart from the construction crews, given permission to survey the new base for the Alliance. The others would come later, either being too busy to inspect it now, or not wishing to do so. G'Kar alone wanted to see the finished station as soon as possible.
He was not terribly surprised to see that the new Vorlon Ambassador had got here before him.
There was a rush of air, and a sound like dry leaves rustling across a marble tomb. <Welcome to Babylon Five,> it said.
G'Kar said nothing in reply. There was nothing to say.
LAKER, A. (2293) A Shining Beacon in Space. Chapter 14 of
