"We grew together, we grew apart. Our careers took us on different paths after the liberation. Mine to our military and then into politics. Hers into internal reorganisation and administration. Our lives were entwined as two pieces of yarn from two different spinners, and it was ultimately arranged that we were to be married.
"The passion of our original affair had subsided, but there was still something there and neither of us objected. In the politically-charged environment of the Kha'Ri any alliance was a good one, and the name of her father still carried a great deal of weight. By marrying her, I would be seen as the natural inheritor of his legacy.
"Then came my sighting of the Shadow ship and my epiphany under the choking grasp of Londo Mollari, and my life changed forever.
"I abandoned my post in the Kha'Ri, and set about creating the Rangers and preparing for the war that was to come. I told Da'Kal simply that she could not follow where I walked, and I left her. I have not seen her since.
"I learned something recently — several somethings. I learned that our Ambassador here, G'Kael, is the Kha'Ri's spymaster, sent to observe the Alliance and myself. I have learned that we have been dabbling in areas we should not have been dabbling in, working to wreak our revenge on the Centauri, and we have done it through intrigue and manipulation and deception.
"And I have learned that Da'Kal is the one behind this plan.
"I need to find her. I need to talk to her. I must either try to learn more or try to reason with her. I must at least do something. I am afraid. I loved her once, but that was many years ago. I was a different person then, and I am sure she is a different person now. She must be, to command the fear of one such as G'Kael.
"I am going to Narn to find her. I may not come back, and so I leave this message for you, explaining what I know and what I am hoping to do. I.... feel a strange foreboding about this journey.
"Some of my people call me a prophet. It is not a term I like. I do not see the future, I simply see the strands of fate that connect us all, and I see how they intertwine and shape each other. It is a skill, not a talent, and one I have honed and practised.
"Still, I feel an almost prophetic unease about this. I must go, there is no doubt about that, but I fear something.... Perhaps I am just starting at shadows, but perhaps there is more.
"If I do not return, use what I have told you. Do not trust any of my people, least of all G'Kael. We have become more devious than I had ever suspected, more than anyone could suspect, I think.
"Be careful, and good fortune.
"I wish you well, Delenn."
The laughter had stopped, replaced by the easy, casual intimacy of two people who have fought for their lives together. Talia's hand was in Dexter's and her head was resting on his shoulder.
"So?" he said at last.
There was a long pause.
It grew longer.
"'So' what?" she replied, eventually.
"Dare I ask what you've been up to? It's been almost two years."
"Thinking about you. Some of the time. For the rest of it, meeting old friends, seeing new places, fighting for my life. You know how it goes."
"Lucky you. Sometimes I think I'd trade everything to travel around the galaxy like that."
"You might still get your chance."
There was another long pause. Dexter was looking up at the ceiling, seeing the patterns formed by the cracks in the plaster. Little things he had never noticed before took on much greater significance now.
"Did you find him?" he asked eventually.
"Find who?"
"The man you were looking for. Your husband."
"Oh. No, I didn't. Well, sort of." She sighed. "It's complicated. I did find my daughter, though."
"How is she?"
"Older. A lot older. I've missed a lot."
"So why are you here?"
"I want to be with you."
"Flattered as I am, there's more to it, isn't there? You need my help with something."
"Yes."
"Good. I want to help you with it, whatever it is."
"Don't say that until you know what it is."
"It doesn't matter."
"No. I want you to be sure."
"So.... what is it?"
She snuggled up closer to him. "It can wait until the morning. Everything's spinning now."
"That's the alcohol."
"No. It's more than that."
"You could hold on tighter."
"I'm holding on as tight as I can."
"So I see."
That was when they started kissing.
The feeling of dread stopped the instant he stepped into the conference room. He was not quite the last to arrive, but he still felt his hearts skip a beat as he saw all those eyes looking at him.
Mi'Ra was not here. That was it. Marrago found himself looking at the only other real player here: Moreil. The Z'shailyl met his gaze calmly and dispassionately. Neither was quite sure of the other yet: friend or ally or tool or enemy. There was too much to be determined, too much still to be answered.
Marrago took his seat, not remotely worried about being alone. Some of the other captains had brought aides or assistants or bodyguards, but he had nothing to fear. He knew that should his true agenda ever be discovered then one or two bodyguards would do nothing but provide a half-second delay for Moreil's monsters. Plus, he wanted the other captains to recognise his confidence. They had to know he did not fear them, not even Moreil.
Not even Moreil's monsters.
The heat haze behind the Z'shailyl told him that the two Wykhheran were there, as ever. Since their last encounter, Marrago had studied the monsters as much as he could. He could now recognise the shimmering that revealed their presence. It was not easy, and his eyes were not as sharp as they had been.
Apart from Mi'Ra, the others did not matter. The Narn was playing some deeper game, and she would have to be watched. As for Rem Lanas and the Sniper and the Drazi, they were all easily led. When a power struggle for leadership finally emerged, it would be between him, Mi'Ra — probably working through G'Lorn — and Moreil.
Except that neither of the other two would want that. Both fancied themselves as the power behind the throne. If Moreil had wanted the leadership he could have had it by now. His Wykhheran gave him an advantage that the others could not match unless they all worked together, and Marrago doubted they were capable of that.
He sighed. The Brotherhood functioned only so long as they kept to their path of conquest. It had been too long since the assault on Gorash, and but for some minor raiding of shipping lanes they had not embarked on a military campaign in several months. They would have to act soon, or risk turning all their aggression and anger onto each other. He could see that. Moreil could surely see it as well, if he cared to.
And so could Mi'Ra.
She entered with G'Lorn while Marrago was still musing. Another alien was with them, one from a race Marrago did not recognise. He thought it was female, although it was incredibly thin. It wore no clothes as far as he could tell. At first he thought it was some sort of Narn animal, for it walked on four legs, but then it rose, muscles and joints shifting beneath its skin, and looked around at them. Marrago could see the careful intelligence in the creature's eyes, and silently rebuked himself for rash thinking.
As he looked closer, he was aware of something else there. Or rather, nothing else.
Not a thing. No conscience, no remorse, no mercy.
No soul.
"We have a new candidate for membership," G'Lorn announced. As ever, he spoke while Mi'Ra watched. "She provides resources greater than any of us thus far. An entire race of people, an entire planet to serve our goals.