Delenn, the image said formally. I hope you will forgive me my little deception, although I will understand if you do not. This never was the type of device you asked me for, although that was easily within my power to create. Alas, I fear such a death is not your destiny.... and we could not allow such a grievous defeat to come to those who dwell at Z'ha'dum. That would.... upset the balance.
If by some chance you endure this ordeal and return to Kazomi Seven, then I will understand if you wish to exact some revenge upon me for my.... for what you could perceive as my treachery. I would not blame you. I will say only that this path was forced upon me by my superiors. Lord Elric appeared before me mere minutes before you arrived with your request.
Many months ago, when you first came to us seeking our aid, my lord Elric warned you that a time would soon come when you would have to make a choice. A difficult and hard choice. I know what that choice is to be, and I do not envy you it. However, unlike my lord Elric, I have every confidence that you will choose wisely and well. I chose to remain behind in your world, Delenn, because I wished to see the one upon whom so much turned. I have been proud to know you, O Blessed Delenn, and I hope to call you friend.
Choose well, Delenn. I fear that if you do, I will never see you again, and if you do not choose well.... then I will pray never to see you again, for such a world will not be one in which I wish to live. We serve neither Vorlon nor Shadow, I and my brethren. We know both for what they are, and we recognise the need for balance.
Goodbye, Blessed Delenn. Peace be with you.
The image faded, and before her eyes the globe turned into a pile of dust.
Her heart beating hard, Delenn rose to her feet. She had understood so little of that, but she did know that the technomages would not let her inflict this injury upon the Shadows.
She went to the door, almost running. Pulling at it, she knew that it was locked.
Trapped. Trapped here, without the hope of an easy death. Trapped here.... to be made host to one of their Keepers, to be turned against her friends, to be....
She reeled across the room and fell onto the bed. It was hard and uncomfortable, and sleep was a very long time coming.
Chapter 2
Her delirium, if that was what it was, had passed, and Delenn, recently anointed the Blessed, awoke from her slumber with a clear head. She did not know how much time had passed. It was all.... difficult to judge here.
Looking around, she noticed that a bowl of water and some cloths had been placed on the table. She rose awkwardly, and stretched. Then she remembered the globe. Vejar's globe. A pile of dust on the table.
Hard to believe it had once been her hope for the future.
She closed her eyes in silent despair. They had her now. What they would do to her, she did not know. She was not sure if she truly cared. Vejar had spoken of some sort of future for her, which was why she could not die. A choice.
Another friend betrayed, if Vejar could still be called that. He had betrayed her, although on orders from another, and.... there had been no malice in his voice. No dark intentions.... just shepherding her towards a destiny.
Angrily she shoved the bowl from the table, and water splashed across the floor. She was not a puppet or a toy, to be pushed this way and that! The Vorlons, and now the technomages, they all seemed to want something from her. But what?
It was times like this she wished she were Sinoval. To be always so sure.... He had denied his destiny and dared to forge his own path. She wished she possessed the ruthlessness for something like that, but she did not feel she could have walked as alone as he did. She had friends, people she cared for dearly.... and that thought had sheltered her greatly. She had John....
She had Lyta. Delenn closed her eyes and tried to reach out to her friend. A.... a sort of bond existed between them. A legacy from their both having been host to Kosh. She had used that bond once before to get word to John, to call for his aid. Could it work now?
She concentrated long and hard, but eventually she gave up. She could feel nothing. She was not a telepath, after all. Perhaps Lyta was just too far away. Perhaps Z'ha'dum was blocked from such signals.
Perhaps the Vorlons did not want Lyta to receive any such message.
That thought struck Delenn with a chill to her spine. The Vorlons had sent her here after all. Sent her here to die. They would not want her friends coming to her rescue, would they?
She shook her head sadly, and prayed that Lyta had received her message. She had tried to explain just how much of a friend the red-haired telepath had been. She was one of the few humans who had accepted her without reservation.
Delenn stepped over the discarded bowl and walked to the door, pushing at it gently. It was still locked. Evidently they were still deciding what to do with her. She did not want to speculate on what their options were.
She returned to her bed, and tried to meditate.
It had been a while since Londo had last seen Lethke, and he had to admit the last few years had seen the Brakiri well. He looked considerably cleaner and smarter than the last time, although not noticeably happier.
"We would have brought out the full presentation band for you, Emperor Mollari," he said dryly. "However, as you can see.... we have been a little.... occupied here."
"I did see indeed. Was that really Cathedral out there?"
"No," said Lethke smoothly. "It was an entirely different millennia-old flying fortress packed full of demons and ghosts and monsters." He smiled. "Or am I not allowed to jest with you now that you have risen so far?"
"Jest all you like, old friend," Londo said, smiling slightly. He had missed Lethke's dry wit. "I am glad someone can see me and not this costume. Whoever thought white was an appropriate colour for the Emperor, hmm? Purple.... now that I could.... Ah." He waved his hand in disgust. "Babbling again. Ignore me. So, is.... he here?"
"Primarch Sinoval? Yes, he is here. I have met him once before, of course. An.... unsettling man, to be sure, but an interesting one. He has asked to meet you."
"Really? I suppose I should be honoured. Is G'Kar here?" Londo was relieved when Lethke nodded.
"He arrived yesterday. He has not yet made any report to the Council as to his activities, but he has been in seclusion with his.... Ranger associates. He is also aware that you are here."
"Good. Yes.... I am glad he got here safely. I wish I knew how he managed to sneak into the Imperial Palace, but I am sure he has his.... ways. So, Lethke.... where is Delenn? It has been a while."
The Brakiri's face fell. "You have not heard?" he whispered.
"Heard what? We've had next to no news from here recently.... and I've been travelling the last few days. Has something happened to her? Her.... her transformation, it has not relapsed?"
"No. It is worse than that. The Shadows have her. One of their.... agents. She is.... in their hands now."
"Great Maker," Londo breathed. "Is she.... alive?"
"We do not know. Sheridan has gone to their world to find her, but.... I do not see how he can return. Nothing has been right since she was taken, but we do what we can. An alliance with the Centauri Republic would serve us well."
"I did not come here to bind my people up in your wars, Lethke," Londo replied, a little more firmly than he had intended. His thoughts were on Delenn. A prisoner of the Shadows.... Great Maker! "I came here to speak of peace. The Narns have a representative here?"