The J’Tok smashed into the vessel, and exploded. The Shadow ship emitted a scream that tore through the minds of everyone on board the Valerius, as it died.
Na’Kal had won his bet after all.
“Valen said that we would reunite with the other half of our soul in a war against the common enemy. We all know who the Enemy is, and they have returned. As for the other half of our soul…”
Delenn drew a deep breath and hoped that her wince at the pain in her chest was not noticeable. She could see that many of those looking at her were doing so with hatred and suspicion. She was Zha’valen – outcast. By all rights they should not even be listening to her.
“The other half of our soul are the humans. They share our souls. They have Minbari souls. Minbari and humans are closely linked. My very presence here proves it. I am now partially human. I made this change to become a bridge between our peoples, a focus point to unite us against the Enemy.
“We have lost our way. We have all abandoned our covenant with Valen! This war… it is wrong. We are destroying our own souls, and we are forsaking Valen’s memory and wishes. If we have abandoned him, if we have abandoned everything that makes us who we are, then what do we have left?”
There was a moment’s silence. Delenn could see the bitter, angry gazes focussed on her. Beside her Lennann shuffled his feet nervously. She knew that this was dangerous. By Minbari law no one should speak to her, or even look at her. But she had to try. She had to make then listen. She had to make them understand.
“You tell us, Delenn,” said a voice she knew and recognised. Callenn, head of her clan. He had always been so convinced of Minbari purity. She remembered his reaction when Dukhat had been killed – a fury that rivalled that of any warrior.
“You tell us what our future holds. Looking like you – becoming like you. Letting the humans kill us all as they killed Dukhat, and Shakiri, letting them cripple us as they crippled Shakat and Branmer. I would have thought that you more than anyone would not be advocating this course. Remember that it was you whose casting vote began this war.”
Delenn remembered. How could she ever forget?
“I remember,” she said softly. “And I freely admit it as a mistake. I was wrong! We were wrong! How far must we go before we admit our mistake? How many must we kill before we realise we are fighting the wrong enemy? In how much blood must we all wade before we realise this is wrong?”
“You have been among humans too long, Delenn,” Callenn noted. “You have even begun to speak like them.”
“The humans have their own perspective on things. Who is to say that theirs is any less accurate than our own?”
“Certainly not a traitor. The Grey Council has named you Zha’valen, Delenn. The Grey Council calls you traitor, anathema. The Grey Council says that you helped Sheridan Starkiller escape from his imprisonment before. The Grey Council says that you work with the Enemy, of your own will. Now perhaps the Grey Council is wrong, but your very appearance before us, looking like that, speaking those words… that confirms that it is you who has lost your way, Delenn. It is you who has abandoned our covenant with Valen. It is you who has betrayed us all.
“I do not hate you, Delenn. You have been corrupted by humans, by the Starkiller. I simply pity you. You have lost your way. And so, in memory of what you once were, I do not wish to punish you any more than has already been done.
“In sorrow, and memory, Delenn.”
Callenn inclined his head gently, not making the full Minbari gesture of departure, and then he left. Slowly, the others began to file out after him. “No!” Delenn cried. “You must listen! Please, you must listen to me!”
But they did not listen, and they did not care. Only one other person stopped to look at her before leaving. Delenn recognised him. It was Ashan, a member of the Third Fane of Chudomo, and an acolyte in service to the Grey Council.
He said one word. “Zha’valen.”
And then he left.
Lennann touched Delenn’s shoulder gently. “I am sorry, Delenn,” he said. “We tried.”
“But we did not try hard enough,” she said, her eyes blazing. “We will try harder.”
“Delenn, if your own clan will not listen to you, then who…?”
“The Grey Council. They will listen, if I have to make them listen. This is wrong, Lennann! This is wrong and I must show them that it is so. I was the chosen of Dukhat, and I held him when he died. His spirit is in my eyes. If he could see what his people have become, then he would curse us from where he now rests with Valen! I must fulfill his last legacy, Lennann.
“The Grey Council will listen to me. There is no other alternative.”
David Corwin had seen many things in his life thus far. He had seen life, he had seen death. He had seen the terrifying sight of Minbari cruisers bearing down upon the Babylon. He had seen the joy in Susan’s eyes reflected in his own. He had seen the death in her eyes when she had betrayed them all. He had seen Delenn’s first, faltering steps as partially human. He had seen the Captain’s eyes in the second when he had killed his wife.
David Corwin had seen many things, but nothing had affected him as badly as the sight of Alisa Beldon dying on the bridge of the Parmenion, shaking, trembling, whimpering, exhausted by her ordeals.
Corwin was not a telepath, and he had always looked upon the trait with mixed feelings when he imagined what it would be like. The wonder of touching someone’s mind compared to the terror of the utterly alien. Alisa had been experiencing the latter for hours now, jamming and delaying the vast Shadow vessels, making contact with something so utterly, terrifyingly alien that it nearly paralysed him.
The battle had not gone entirely as planned – the Captain’s capture for one thing – but at least they were still alive, and it looked as if Proxima 3 had been saved. From the Minbari at least. Whether it could be saved from the Shadows was another matter.
Alisa’s eyes fluttered and Corwin knelt down beside her. Medical staff had been called, but he knew that it was futile. She was dying. She had drained herself. All for him and the Captain. She was dying because she trusted him to do the right thing with her life.
Damn you, Bester! he thought. Damn you for making me do this! And damn the Captain for leaving and making me the one who had to be here. Damn all of them!
“Did I… do… well?” she asked. He nodded, and closed his eyes, unable to think of anything to say.
One of the techs looked up. “Another Shadow vessel closing, sir.”
“Bring us around,” Corwin ordered. He rose, but he was still looking at Alisa. She tried to stagger to her feet as well. “Stay and rest,” he ordered.
“Sorry, sir,” she whispered, looking up at the viewscreen and the approaching ship. “I… can’t… do… that…”
He saw the ship hesitate. She wasn’t strong enough to paralyse it completely, but it was delayed.
“Hit it!” he shouted. “Break that bloody thing apart!”
Broadsides, forward cannon, all poured at the ship. It shook slightly as more and more energy rained on it. Before his eyes, it withered and died.
It wasn’t the only one. As he turned, Alisa collapsed again. This time she would not get up. He knew it. He went to her side, and waited patiently as her last breaths faded. He did not have to wait long.
Gently, he closed her eyes and looked back up at the viewscreen. Now he understood what he had never understood before. The Captain’s attack on the Minbari over Mars. Theoretically his attack should never have had the effect that it did. But he had torn apart a Minbari fleet and crippled the Grey Council. How? Pure anger. He had been working on a fury so intense, so strong, that it had been almost tangible.