He nodded, his throat suddenly very dry. "You're right. I'm.... I'm sorry.... the way things have been...."
"Hard, I know. But we are together now.... and we may never be so again. The last battle is coming, we all know it. We have both been far too lucky thus far. We may not be lucky again."
"Lucky?" he said with a whisper. "Good God, Delenn, how can you call what has happened to us luck?"
"We are both still alive. We have known great love. We have known good and loyal friends. We have endured hardship and adversity and we are both still here. We have both triumphed far more than we have failed. That sounds like luck to me."
"When you put it that way...."
"None of us knows how much time we have, John. We must think of the present first. John.... I am sorry about our son. If there had been any other way.... but there was not. You have to believe me."
"Sorry? Delenn.... I don't blame you." The lie burned in his throat. "I could never blame you. How could I...?"
"Still, I am sorry, and I always will be. I think.... sometimes I wonder if there was anything else I could have done...."
"Delenn, I don't blame you!" Each time he said it, the lie hurt more. "It is.... done. Delenn, I watched one woman I love collapse because of tragedy, and I couldn't do anything about it. I ran away from Anna because it was my way of coping with.... what happened, and because I was too busy running away I didn't see her destroying herself.
"I was running away from you as well, Delenn. I didn't want to face.... I couldn't.... but I don't want to run away any more. I love you, Delenn. I never want to see you hurt, or upset, or in pain again. I want to protect you and keep you safe from harm, and I know I can't, and that scares me and.... I'm sorry, Delenn, I just...."
Gently, she reached out and took his hand. Her skin felt so soft against his. "We do not have the future. We only have today. We love each other, and surely.... surely we can find a way."
"You're always so much better at this than I am," he whispered. "How is it you're so much better at this?"
She smiled. "I don't know," she said. "I am trembling so much I can barely stand."
"Then sit down."
Quietly, she sat down next to him. He put his arm around her, naturally, and held her close against him.
Then they kissed.
Today is all there is.
For tomorrow we die.
The arguments had been long and tortuous, and had grown heated on more than one occasion. Some, like Takier, preferred to remain autonomous. The Minbari had survived for centuries without asking for help from anyone else. Why should they do so now?
Tirivail recognised the necessity of a military alliance. The civil war had cost them all greatly, and the Minbari needed allies, there was no doubt about that. However, she questioned whether committing fully to the Alliance was necessary in itself.
Gysiner and Chardhay, speaking, as they often did, as one, reminded the Council that the leader of the Alliance was the Blessed Delenn herself. By joining the Alliance they would in effect be making her the leader of the Minbari Federation, as she should have been so long ago.
It was the votes of Kats and Lurna which had swung it. Takier and Tirivail had bowed, accepting defeat.
And so it was that Kats found herself standing in the Alliance Council Chamber, looking at the diverse members of the Council. Sinoval had told her a little of his meeting with the Council almost a year ago, and already it had grown larger.
With these people, she thought, there lies the power of half the galaxy.
Of course an Ambassador would be needed, and that had not been fully finalised yet. Many in the Council wanted Kats herself to take on that role, arguing that she was the most suitable. She had refused, not wanting to leave Minbar, and especially not wanting to leave Kozorr. Already she missed him, her heart burning.
But someone was needed to come to speak for the Federation in the opening meetings, to resolve the treaties and trade pacts and all the other necessities of diplomacy. Takier and Tirivail had brought the ships to aid in the final battle at Z'ha'dum, and Kats had come along as well.
She missed Kozorr, and she remembered their final night together before she left. She also remembered their final morning, as she had awoken to see him staring at the sunrise. She had gone to him, and they had spent the morning in silence, fingers brushing, looking over the new world that they would create together.
Then she had left, with no words spoken. None needed to be said.
Unlike now, when many words needed to be said. A great many words.
"Friends, Ambassadors, Council Members," she began, "as representative of the Grey Council and the Minbari Federation, it is an honour to be here, and an even greater honour to bring the Minbari Federation into the United Alliance of Races...."
We will send aid.
No, none is necessary. They will fight this battle themselves.
And if there is no battle?
There will be, a battle of words if not of weapons. They understand now.
They understand too much.
The war will be won. When that is so.... their understanding will avail them little. The war was that of the Enemy. The peace will be ours.
As you say. They will fight this last battle alone.
And so it was here, the largest fleet ever assembled in mortal memory. Drazi Sunhawks, Brakiri fighters, Minbari warships, Centauri and Narn fighters together, Llort, Vree, Gaim, Abbai.... and the fearsome Dark Stars.
On the bridge of the Agamemnon, Captain David Corwin looked around at his crew, and thought of the countless thousands of lives within this fleet, many of whom would not return. There was an old phrase he had heard once, a line from a poem perhaps, relating to a terrible war on Earth over three hundred years ago.
"When you go back, tell them of us and say, For your tomorrow, we gave our today."
He looked down at Kazomi 7. He thought of Mary, somewhere safe from all this fighting. He thought of Lianna, and her child, forever without a father. He thought of his parents, his brothers and sisters, all long dead. He thought, strangely enough, of Bester.
"Know what we are fighting for," he whispered.
He did not know what everyone else was fighting for, but he did know what he was fighting for.
The ships, as one, turned. Jump points opened, and the fleet moved for Z'ha'dum.
It was a dead world, at the end of space in a region filled with dead worlds.
A thousand years ago a fleet came here, and there was bloodshed and fire and shadow, as Valen led those who followed him into the depths of Z'ha'dum. It was said he uncovered the world's greatest secret there, although none knew what that secret was, at least none who admitted to knowing.
It was at Z'ha'dum that Marrain and Parlonn had met for the last time, in an epic duel that proved, for once and for all, which of them was better. It was there that Marrain had set a tomb for his fallen friend, and there that the seeds of his betrayal were nurtured and grew, although they had existed all along.
That tomb had long been sought and rarely been found. There were countless catacombs beneath the barren, wasted surface of Z'ha'dum, tunnels leading into the very heart of the world, and none knew them all. Not the Heart Guards, not the Drakh magi, not the Zener Flesh–Sculptors, not even the Pale and Silent King himself. There were whispers of course, rumours of what lay below. Drakh would occasionally enter the unknown and forbidden areas seeking knowledge and understanding. Few returned.