'In custody, but on the station, sir. I…. thought it imprudent to bring her on board the Babylon. She has been here before after all…. and there may be sympathisers among my crew.'

'Can your men guarantee that she will be kept safe on board the station?'

'Not for certain, sir.'

'Damn! You may have to answer for that, Smith, but there's nothing we can do now. It was your task to secure the station and placate the ambassadors there, remember?

'Philby, what signs of activity from the planet?'

Smith closed his eyes and leaned back heavily in his chair. What Ryan had said was true…. he should have remained on the station, he should have taken more security on board, and he should have brought Delenn to the Babylon when he came. But how could he tell Ryan just how much he had been haunted by Sheridan ever since taking over this post? How could he explain how much humanity he had seen in Delenn's deep green eyes? How could he…?

He started as Franklin looked up, speaking. 'Captain, something's coming up from the planet. It's….'

The ship rocked, shaking in a blast that seemed almost to tear it apart. Smith fell forward, his head smashing against his forward commpanel. His ears started ringing. Desperately he scrambled to his feet, wiping away the blood from his forehead and glancing at Franklin.

'What was that?'

'A missile of some sort…. from the planet, somewhere below the surface.'

'Something powerful enough to come from below the planet's surface…. and reach this high into orbit? What sort of…?' He grimaced, wincing as his head pounded. 'What's our status?'

'Hull integrity pretty much intact, engines intact, jump engines at eighty percent capacity…. ship-to-ship communications are down entirely. The missile didn't impact on us, but it did send out some sort of pulse which shut down the comm.'

Smith sat back, trying to take it in. 'Are the sensors working?' What was happening? The Machine was supposed to be under control.

'Yes…. it looks like it anyway…. Captain, the Drazi ship has started attacking the Corinthian!'

Smith closed his eyes and whispered a swift prayer. 'You heard the General's orders, Lieutenant…. we attack.'

* * *

This was not what Michael Garibaldi had been expecting when he arrived on Babylon 4. He remembered Bester's orders, as well as the manner in which they had been delivered: cursory, peremptory, and to-the- point.

As he looked mutely at the scene before him, he began to feel very sick at the thought that Bester might have been involved in this. Garibaldi recognised Donne, one of the Boss's favourite telepaths, given the plum job of head of the embassy at Proxima. She had been recalled from there amidst much speculation. Garibaldi now knew the reason for that move.

Everything fitted together too neatly. All of it. Sheridan's recall to Sanctuary…. the Boss's supposed 'illness' preventing him from being at G'Kar's summit.

How long had the Boss been planning this?

Garibaldi tried to think, tried to recall the moment where things had changed. Bester had been kind and…. his old self when Frank had been born. He had seemed almost…. touched by the child. He had also been happy ever since his return from Proxima. Few people knew the details, but Garibaldi did know that he had brought someone back with him.

So when had he changed? Perhaps it had always been like this, and he just hadn't noticed before.

But still, it was hard to reconcile the Boss who had cried when holding a newborn baby with the man who could so callously have ordered this great betrayal. Garibaldi looked on in stunned horror, unable to think or do anything, while two Narns were tortured right in front of his eyes.

How am I going to tell Lianna what I saw here? And Mary, she looks…. I don't know, but she can't have anything left in her stomach to throw up.

There was a sudden movement, and a loud scream that brought his mind back to the scene at the Heart of the Machine. The scream did not come from either of the Narns, however, but from the other man there.

He was hovering in mid-air directly before Donne. His arms and legs were spreadeagled and his mouth was wide open.

'This Machine has so many attributes,' Donne said, smiling. 'I'm so happy it's finally sharing some of them with me. Tell me, Number Two…. did you know that one of those attributes is enhanced telepathy? I could read your thoughts as if you were screaming them across the room at me. Do you think I'm a fool?'

'I…. I….' He was trying to speak, but each time a word left his mouth his body jerked and his next words were lost in choking fits.

'Telekinesis as well. I was never able to master that art…. it's a pity. I always felt I disappointed Al by not being a teek as well as a teep. But look at this, and without even trying…. This is a truly wonderful device you have here, G'Kar. You can't have been using the half of it.'

'You…. can…. not….' the Narn rasped, but then his head fell forward.

'And you…. thinking about killing me. What's your name? I can't just put a number on your grave…. assuming I give you one. It will mess up my records something chronic. I do like to maintain a good inventory of my victims.'

'Put him down,' cried the woman. 'This was not what we came here for!'

'What you came here for? That hardly matters. And if you want me to put him down…. I'll be happy to….'

Garibaldi saw what was coming next and closed his eyes in a hurry. Mary didn't, and he heard her scream as well as the damp sound of a falling body. When he opened his eyes again the mass on the floor did not look like anything that had once been human.

'Murderer!' cried the woman, charging forward. Donne smiled, and she fell as if she had run directly into a brick wall.

'Why, yes, I am.'

'You want me to kill her?' asked the Narn torturer. He was covered in blood, and was playing with a small ball in his right hand. Garibaldi did not want to think about what it was.

'No. We'll save her for later.'

The Narn nodded, and then looked up. 'One question. You said you were working out how to use that thing.' Donne signalled affirmation. 'Then why am I torturing these two?'

'You looked to be having so much fun I didn't want to stop you. Besides, I'm enjoying watching you.'

'Oh…. well, that's good to know, at least. How's the battle going up there?'

'Ah…. lots of people dying. I think it's time they became aware of my presence once more, don't you think?'

Garibaldi looked at her, and wanted to throw up. He had never before seen such evil in one form. But there was something about her he couldn't quite fathom. Her eyes….

They were bleeding.

* * *

Great men, men such as history will revere forever, will remember with words of hushed awe, will speak of with reverence, will even worship.

Am I such a man? Is Sinoval? Was Kalain? Did greatness leave us forever with Dukhat's death, or is this the emergence of a new age? Just as Valen heralded a thousand years ago, is the dawning of a new Minbar within sight?

Sonovar straightened and turned as a figure arrived behind him. Half-expecting it to be Forell, he was ready with a sharp retort. The priestling had been…. unnerving him recently. Something about him felt wrong, but his advice was sound, his presence a moral victory and his soul possessed of a very warrior-like practicality.

It was not Forell, but someone he found much easier to tolerate. Ironic, wasn't it? That the leader of one third of the Minbari Federation found more kinship with an alien whose race was banished by Valen long ago than

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