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Hague had not been at the First Line, but he had heard reports from the few who had been and had survived. A wall of paper would have stood about as equal a chance.

And now where were they? Sheridan was gone. The Starkiller was gone. A traitor by all accounts. Hague had never liked him, but he had at least respected the man. How could he betray his people like this?

Oh – the Babylon had been returned, with no explanations from those who brought it back. No clues as to where Sheridan was now. Hague had given command of it to General Takashima, who was doing her best to prepare it for the Minbari’s arrival. By all rights, Hague should have taken it himself, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t…

The Minbari are coming. The Minbari are coming. The Minbari are coming.

He just could not rid himself of those four words. They kept running around inside his mind.

The Minbari are coming.

He still had not told Vice Pre… President Clark. He still had not told General Takashima. He had not told Mr. Welles. He had only so much as hinted to one person, and she was, hopefully, on her way now.

The door opened, and in she walked.

Ambassador Susan Ivanova. Emissary of the mysterious race called the Shadows who promised assistance to humanity against the Minbari. Except that there was neither sight nor sound nor trace of them. And now the Minbari were coming, and humanity needed them. Humanity needed anything.

The Minbari are coming. The Minbari are coming.

“General. How are you?” She flashed a smile and sat down opposite him. “Well, I trust?”

“I… yes. Fine. I…” Hague stopped and swallowed hard. The Minbari are coming. “The Minbari are coming!” He hadn’t realised he’d spoken that last thought aloud until he heard Ivanova’s reply.

“Finally got things moving, did they? Well, they certainly took their time.”

Hague closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He felt as though he were suffocating. This was absurd! He was a soldier, a trained soldier. He’d fought the Dilgar, he’d taken part in the siege of New Jerusalem, he’d fought with General Franklin on the Janos 7 campaign. He was no stranger to death, but this…

The Minbari are coming.

“Will…” He choked and paused. “Will your allies be here?”

She smiled. “Of course, General. I promised you they would be. They’ll be here.”

Hague nodded and swallowed again. His throat felt very dry. He poured himself a glass of whisky and drank it in one gulp. He’d always kept a bottle of Scotch whisky in his quarters aboard his ship. Afterwards he had brought the bottle here, saving it for a special occasion. Dying seemed special enough.

Ivanova rose and bowed a trifle mockingly. She went towards the door, and as she reached it, she suddenly stopped and turned, smiling.

“There will be a price of course.”

* * * * * * *

The Minbari are coming!

* * * * * * *

Elsewhere, others were preparing. Others knew. They had sources, they had agents, they had ears and eyes and minds.

In a place called Sanctuary, a place few had ever heard of, and fewer could find, a man called Bester was having a conversation.

“We knew this was going to happen sooner or later,” he said. “The question is are we ready to take part, or do we just… let events take their course?”

“We cannot stay hidden forever. Did you make the necessary preparations?”

“Oh yes.” Bester smiled, a little smugly. “A few people in the right places. It’s all ready. If we are.”

“Do you think we are?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never met these… allies of humanity, but their ambassador on Proxima was certainly keen enough to avoid me. That could mean something. It could mean we’re right.”

“Perhaps. What about Captain Sheridan?”

“What about him?”

“What does he know?”

“What you’ve told him, what he’s managed to piece together. I certainly haven’t told him anything. He’s an intelligent man, and a dangerous one. I think he’s taking to the Parmenion quite well.”

“And Satai Delenn? What about her?”

“Now that… is a fascinating subject. I’ve had her checked over by my doctors here. She is… a mix, a foot in each world, so to speak. Unfortunately, she is also genetically very unstable. She wasn’t willing to talk about her change, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope for a long life. Unless she can somehow complete what was interrupted… That’s your area, I believe.”

“I’ll find out what I can, but we don’t have time. The Minbari will be at Proxima in twelve hours. How long would it take the Parmenion and the Ozymandias to get there?”

“Eight hours or so. Perhaps. They’re quite a bit faster than my Black Omega Starfuries. I take it this means we are going to get involved?”

“I doubt we could keep Captain Sheridan out of it. And Satai Delenn may be our one chance of ending this without bloodshed.”

“If you think so. You certainly know the Minbari better than I do. So, do you want to tell Sheridan the truth? Or shall I?”

“No. He must make his own choice. For too long he has been misguided, directionless, uncertain. He has set aside his past, but now he must decide his future. He must decide where he will stand on his own.”

“And if he chooses wrongly?”

“Then we will remove him. I do not like to do this either, but there is a saying I learned recently. ‘Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved.’”

“‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few’,” Bester countered. “‘Practicalities are more important than principles.’ You had better watch yourself. You’re starting to think just like me.”

“What was it you once told me? ‘Desperate times breed desperate people.’”

Bester smiled. “Absolutely correct.”

* * * * * * *

Hague reeled. A price? She had never mentioned a price before. What… price?

The Minbari are coming.

* * * * * * *

Timov hated intrigue. She despised politics. She loathed social climbing. And she found assassinations very impolite and annoying. All she wanted was a quiet life, where she could live in peace, bullying the servants and making her husband’s life hell. Was that so much to ask for?

Evidently, it was. Ever since she had realised that in order to keep up with Mariel and Daggair she would actually have to involve herself in whatever game they were playing, she had not had a moment’s peace. If it wasn’t one thing it was another, and most of the problems seemed centred around Lady Elrisia, of whom Londo spoke frequently and derisorily.

“There, there, Londo,” she had said, patting his forehead in a way that she knew was bound to drive him insane. “Everything will be all right soon, just you wait and see.”

“Where is Drigo?” Londo had spat. “I am not staying here one moment longer!”

“Oh, you should not exert yourself, Londo my love. Drigo will be back before long, and he told me to keep you from getting too stressed. If you’d prefer I could always ask Mariel or Daggair to come and keep an eye on you…”

“Timov! You are a witch! A harridan! A… a… Bah! We do not have the word to describe what you are.”

Timov smiled in memory of that conversation, but her smile faded as she thought of the circumstances behind it.

Another assassination attempt, one which had come very close to succeeding. Londo’s personal carriage had exploded on his journey from the capital to his estates. Fortunately Londo had sensed something strange and had managed to escape, but the explosion had resulted in him being quite badly burned. He had contacted his primary source of information – a weaselly, worthless sort of man named Drigo – who had managed to get him to a safe house to recuperate. Drigo was however also working for Timov, whom he called and alerted to the unfortunate events. Timov had made her way there quickly and had proceeded to annoy Londo almost to death while making discreet enquiries.