“You are afraid,” Delenn pointed out. “You have seen that your time is over. We are not as doomed as you say. There is always hope.”
“You’re deluded! A dreamer, playing with lives as if they’re your own private little toys. You have no idea of what you do.”
“And you do?”
“I know life and I know death…”
“And how to twist the one to the other? You know how to destroy happiness and bring chaos. I pity you. You are insane and you are alone, and what you have done today proves it.”
“You pity me?” Jha’dur’s smile widened. “You? You are just a puppet. You don’t even understand the game. You don’t even care. You will continue to serve them blindly until they decide to have you killed. What is your saying, the one you prate out so nobly whenever you have to get your hands stained with blood?
“’Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved.’ You were sacrificed. How does that make you feel? When you are the victim?”
“I will gladly give my life for the good of my people.”
“Of course you would. And why? Because you want the fame, the glory, the honour of being the noble hero! A martyr! A messiah, even!” Jha’dur darted forward and lashed out at Delenn, who parried her blows awkwardly, stepping back slowly, always watching her feet. “What glory is there now? What fame? You are Zha’valen – outcast. This is your great sacrifice.”
“This is wrong.”
“So you say.” Jha’dur delivered a lightning-fast blow to Delenn’s head. Although Delenn managed to parry it, the force jarred her whole body. She swayed back.
“Who are you to say what is right and what is wrong?” Jha’dur spat. “The strong live, the weak die. What more is there to life?”
“Then your people must have been weak,” Delenn noted. “Since they are all dead. Or maybe… you are wrong.”
Jha’dur delivered a noise which was almost a snarl. She lunged forward. Pike clashed against pike…
Blood calls out for blood…
Sheridan parried a blow aimed at his head as Delenn deflected a strike from her body. Sheridan took a step forward and forced Kalain to backtrack just as Delenn caught Jha’dur off balance and punished her with a blow to the leg.
Kalain spun on one foot and thrust his pike at Sheridan’s neck. The Starkiller dodged and came close, inside Kalain’s reach. Sheridan broke his pike up to strike Kalain’s chest. The Minbari ducked back, half stumbling, half falling, and he brought his own pike back, holding it against Sheridan’s, their bodies and minds pressing hard against each other’s.
Delenn, her mind lost in training with Neroon, struck forward, knocking Jha’dur back. The Dilgar broke her pike up and struck Delenn across the head. Ears ringing and eyes streaming, Delenn lashed out. She heard the sound of her pike striking Jha’dur’s and the Dilgar’s brief cry of pain.
Sheridan and Kalain pressed hard against each other, locked in a corps-à-corps. Kalain was stronger, and fuelled by his angry madness. Sheridan was fuelled by something altogether different. He brought his knee up hard into Kalain’s stomach. And again. And again. The Minbari jerked and fell. A well-timed kick knocked the pike from his hand, and in a moment, Sheridan was kneeling over him, a pike held at his throat.
Delenn had regained the momentum. Her eyes were still bleary, but she found she could sense where Jha’dur was better than she had before. She remembered her last lesson with Neroon, when he had blindfolded her and told her to fight with her feelings. She had done so, and lost, but only barely. A blow struck Jha’dur’s side, a second merely pushed her back. It was the third that knocked her to the ground. Her pike fell from her grip.
“Well?” Kalain said, spitting venom from every syllable. “Kill me. Unarmed and alone. That is the human way, is it not?”
“Kill me,” Jha’dur said. “I can see that you want to. I can see it burning at the back of your mind. After what I’ve done today… I don’t deserve to live, do I? So… kill me!”
Sheridan hesitated, staring deep into Kalain’s maddened eyes. Hatred… it always ran so deep. Sheridan’s own hatred had killed his wife. Would giving in to it here gain him any better result in the future?
Delenn hesitated, looking at the being before her. What she said was true. Jha’dur did deserve death, and yet she could not grant it. Delenn had never taken a life with her own hands before, and she could not do it now.
“You are a coward, Starkiller! Your victory was dishonourable… all your victories have been dishonourable. But what more could I expect from a human?”
“You are weak, Zha’valen. Like all of your people. Weak and petty and foolish. And dying. You are all doomed now. And whether I live or die… whether you live or die… none of it will matter.”
“No,” Sheridan said softly. “No. I won’t kill you. It may be the human way, but it isn’t my way. Not any more. Where is Delenn?”
“No,” Delenn said softly. “No. I will not kill you. You deserve death, yes, but you must be made to atone for what you have done… as I have.”
“I do not believe you, Starkiller, and I do not know that name.”
“I do not think you can kill me, Zha’valen. Prove me wrong.”
Sheridan grabbed the collar of Kalain’s robe and picked him up. “You will take me to Delenn! You will take me to the Grey Council! This has gone too far, and I swear by God, it will stop! Do you hear me? This will stop!”
Kalain blinked and spat back, “It has gone too far to stop, Starkiller. Far too far.”
“We’ll see,” he replied. “Now, take me to Delenn, or to the Grey Council. Now!”
Delenn gripped her pike tighter. Jha’dur was right. Delenn could not kill her. But, another could…
Deathwalker tried to rise, still smiling. She was still smiling when a burst of energy tore into her back and threw her forward, leaving her slumped over the bodies of those she had killed. Sinoval stepped into view, holding a human weapon. He looked at Delenn and met her gaze, and then he looked around at the bodies.
“Valen’s Name,” he whispered. “What… have I…?”
“You should not have killed her,” Delenn said softly.
“And what do you know? If I had killed her earlier, this… this would never have happened.” Sinoval raised his eyes and looked around at the display surrounding them. He could see the pitiful remains of the Minbari fleet, the Enemy that had destroyed them, and the Vorlons who had come to their rescue.
“Retreat!” Sinoval ordered. “All Minbari ships, retreat! White Star ships nine, fifteen and twenty-seven form a screen. All other ships, retreat! In Valen’s Name, retreat!”
But it was far too little, far too late.
Tryfan closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer to Valen. In the last few hours, he had witnessed the mightiest Minbari fleet ever assembled cut to ruins by the force of the encroaching Shadow vessels. At last the order to retreat had been given, but it would not be enough. Help had come in the form of the Vorlons, but it would take them time to get to the front of the line. Tryfan had to buy his people that time.
Behind him, the Minbari ships were vanishing into hyperspace. What was left of the Minbari fleet was departing. All they needed was a few minutes longer to get away. Then the Vorlons would be here and the Shadows would flee – unwilling to face their ancient foes just yet.
Tryfan would buy his people that time.
The White Star Nine – named the Valen – flew forward, directly into the heart of the Shadow forces. Raining fire upon the Enemy, Tryfan of the Star Riders clan brought the Valen and his crew to their destiny.