<All we ask in turn is your obedience.
<Is that truly so much for you to pay?>
"What? Doing whatever you say? Frantically trying to tidy ourselves up, hoping we won't do anything that might upset you? Living without individuality or emotion? Without choice?
"Putting it bluntly, yes, it is too much to pay."
<You act out of anger, but anger is a servant that wishes to be master, as you are. We will remove anger from you, and you will no longer be a slave to it.>
"You don't get it, do you? You really don't. And you never will. I'm not saying we're perfect, any of us, but maybe we don't want to be."
<Why would you not seek perfection? Betterment has always been the greatest goal of every sentient race.>
"Maybe, but we'll better ourselves on our terms, not yours. You say you've only ever wanted what's in our best interests?"
<You know that to be true.>
"Then leave. Follow the Shadows and get out of our galaxy. Hell, they've left. You won. Congratulations. You don't need to stay any more."
<That is incorrect.>
"Really? Well, of course you'd say that. You simply can't admit that this whole thing wasn't about us at all. It was all about you beating them. You fought them for so long, and now you've won you're just sitting around wondering what to do with the rest of eternity. So, you figure, why not? Why not actually try and do something with us, just because you can.
"We're not your guinea pigs, and we're not miniature versions of you.
"At least the Shadows finally admitted it at the end. They accepted they weren't doing any good, weren't doing what they were supposed to do, and they left.
"I'm thinking they might have won after all. At least they admitted their mistake, which is more than you ever have."
There was a cold wind, a chill, icy blast through the room.
<You will be silent. We are not mistaken.
<You will obey us, or you will be punished. We do this not out of anger, or hatred, because these things do not affect us. We do this because it is for your own good. The cancer must be removed before the whole can heal, and then the whole will thank us.
<We wanted you to serve us, to be our general and our voice to the other races, but if you spurn us, if you reject us, then you are the thorn at our feet, the barrier in our path.
<And you will be removed.
<You will obey us, or you will die.
<Speak, and know your fate rests on your words.>
They had left eventually, all five of them. Delenn supported Kulomani as before. G'Kar carried L'Neer. Na'Toth walked ahead, alone.
The sound of fighting was very distant, far–removed from reality, but Delenn could feel it with senses more acute than the normal five. She could sense every life flickering and dying, and she wept for every one of them.
Is this the life you wanted, Sinoval? Are all these deaths your desire?
It would stop. It had to stop, and they were the ones who had to stop it.
She was not a warrior. She was a healer.
She repeated those words to herself as they walked, for each step of Kulomani's that dug into her shoulder, for each anguished breath he took, for each rasp of broken bone grating against broken bone.
She would heal him, and she would heal the Alliance.
No one challenged them. No one even saw them. When they finally arrived at Command and Control, the whole place was deserted.
"Behold chaos," Na'Toth said grimly. "They can cover the galaxy with their spies, but they can't stop their spies from fleeing or hiding."
"Actually, they can," G'Kar replied.
"Chaos creeps in everywhere, however much they try to fight it."
Delenn said nothing, but kept walking. The door slid open obediently, and she entered. There was no sign of activity. Through the observation window she could see the battle raging outside. Gently, she laid Kulomani down on a chair. He said nothing.
Picking up the hem of her skirt, careful of her injured ankle, Delenn ran to one of the control panels. She could stop this, order the Dark Stars to stop fighting, contact Sinoval. She looked at the panel and paused. She had studied the systems here. She knew them well.
And yet this.... this was completely alien to her. None of it made sense.
"None of it works," said a bitter voice from the far corner of the room. Delenn whirled. Sitting against the wall, elbows on his knees, looking tired and drained and haggard, was David Corwin.
Na'Toth moved forward instantly, knife in hand. "No!" Delenn called. "He's a friend."
"I know who he is," Na'Toth hissed. "But I cannot trust he is who my eyes say he is."
"I don't blame you," David said, rising. Delenn went to him, brushing past Na'Toth. She looked at David, and then stepped forward to hug him tightly. Her son had been named after him.
"Have you seen John?" he asked her. She stiffened, and pulled back.
"We must do this without him."
"He was.... strange. Like he was before. Distant, and angry and.... I don't know. He looked and acted more like his old self when I saw him on Minbar, but now...."
"We must do this without him," she said, more firmly.
"None of it works. Not a single thing. I've been trying to contact people, to call for help, anything, but none of it seems to work."
"There have been.... revisions to the operating system," Kulomani said. "In the interests.... of efficiency."
"The Vorlons have shut us out."
Kulomani's face twitched in a semblance of a smile. "You made me.... Commander.... of Babylon Five. I would.... have been a poor choice if I.... could be defeated by something so.... simple. Help me to my terminal."
He rose, swaying, holding tightly to the back of the chair. Delenn rushed to his side, but G'Kar was there first. Delenn watched as he made his way painfully to the Commander's terminal. He sat down awkwardly, and began.
It was then that they heard the voices.
Tirivail was dreaming.
She knew that, but she could not force herself awake. She was standing at the top of a giant mountain, looking down upon all the armies of the galaxy massed before her - awaiting her command, her leadership. The finest warriors ever assembled, and she would lead them. Her father was there, kneeling before her to accept her command.
This can be yours, said a voice at her side. She turned, and saw an ethereal being, a spirit crafted of light, attired for war. Lead them against our enemies, and all this can be yours.
"Who are you?" she asked.
The spirit became darker, lightning crackling from it. The sky turned black, the air cold.
Understanding is not required. Questions are not permitted. All that is required is order and obedience. You will obey us.
Tirivail looked down at the armies again. Her sister was there, and her father, and Sinoval, and even Kozorr. She breathed out slowly, although she knew that here she had no need to breathe at all.
"All I have ever known is order," she said calmly. "Obedience to those in command. Not to question, not to think, just to hear and to obey. I have always tried to serve to the best of my ability.
"But I was never good enough. Never. I am not worthy to lead armies, and that is not even what I want to do. You cannot give me what I want.
"I refuse."
You will obey us or you will die.
She smiled. "I am a warrior. I am not afraid to die."
The lightning thundered from the sky and tore into the ground at her feet. The spirit of light faded and a voice came, as if from elsewhere.
"At least the Shadows finally admitted it at the end. They accepted they weren't doing any good, weren't doing what they were supposed to do, and they left."