She will never love you, not while she is with him. I can help you become greater than him.
He rose to his feet, moving awkwardly. The injuries to his leg seemed more crippling than ever. He raised his arms wide and roared in defiance. He did not know what to do, or what to think.
She will never love you.
"She will love me," he roared. "She…. will."
* * *
This, more than anything, he did not want to do. Bad enough his duty had brought him to this pathetic planet in the first place, but to be placed here, in this position, to confront his greatest failure….
David Sheridan had thought about his son continually for sixteen years, ever since the war had started. He had not seen him for over thirteen of those years, and now he would see him again, fully paid for all the wrong choices he had made.
He did not want to, but ties of blood were greater by far than ties of water. He had one last duty to perform for his son.
The guards did not see him. The doctors did not see him either. It was late at night. Delenn was not here. He had chosen his time carefully.
He was not truly certain who to blame. John had made his own decisions, and the choice to betray his people and his wife had been one of those. He was a man now, and had been so for many years. He had a right to make those decisions.
But it was a father's duty to tell his son where he had gone wrong.
But then…. how much of this had been Delenn's doing? John had been loyal and true before he had met her. He could not decide. There was another fate in store for Delenn, a fate that should serve as a reminder to John of what happened to those she claimed to love.
He paused and looked down at the figure in the bed. It hardly looked anything like the young man he remembered. Thirteen years, almost fourteen now…. that would change anyone a lot. But this much…?
John was asleep, or so it seemed. Jha'dur's subtle revenge was close to claiming him. A few more months at most. Ambassador Sheridan hated Jha'dur for a great many things, but for this more than anything else.
His son should not have to die this way, and if Delenn chose correctly he would not have to.
Placing his son's fate in her hands…. that hurt. In spite of everything that John had done…. to Anna, to humanity, to his crew and his Government…. in spite of all that, John was still his son.
John was beginning to wake up. It was dark in here, but certain…. changes had been made to David in order to help him see better. He could see his son's face all too well. He wished he could not.
John blinked, and strained to look round. "Wh…. who's there?" he asked. His voice was hoarse, rasping. "Who…? Not Delenn…." He fell silent, and his breathing continued as regular, as unnatural as always.
"D…. Dad," he breathed.
"Hello, John. You certainly messed everything up this time, hmm?"
He had always wanted to be a father, always wanted the joy of bringing life into the world, of watching his child being born, growing, learning, and over time becoming greater than him. He had believed that there could be no greater joy for a parent than to be surpassed by his children.
And no greater pain than to watch his children fail.
Ambassador David Sheridan looked down at his crippled, dying son, and he was not sure what to think. He had not seen John in over thirteen years, but he had never been far from his thoughts. To see him like this….
Still, he knew who to blame, and she would receive her own punishment for her part in this.
But that could wait.
"D…. Dad?" whispered the pathetic figure in the life support system.
"Hello, John," he replied, using every iota of his skill and experience not to reveal his true emotions. Some things had to be said here, and he had to say them. If John was to live, then he had to understand what he had done, and where he had gone wrong.
And teaching him those things was a father's duty, was it not?
"You really messed things up this time, hmm?"
"Dad," he whispered. "Ah…. d…. dreaming. You're dead."
David shook his head. "No, I'm not dead, John. There have been times I wished I were, but…. I'm still alive, more so than you are by the looks of things."
"Where's…. Mum? Liz? I'm dead…. aren't I? This is…. Heaven?"
"Trust me, John. I've never been to Heaven, but I hope it's better than this place. You're still alive, and so am I. I was one of the lucky ones, John. I got away. Your Mum and Liz…. they didn't."
"What…. happened? Why…. why didn't you…. come…. earlier?"
"If I could have done, I would." He walked around the bed slowly, looking at the paralysed body of his only son. The virus that was killing him was of no concern. Slowly, David sat down, noting with considerable distaste that this was where Delenn would sit while she was here. "I've…. been busy. I've had a lot to do. I've been putting all my old skills to good use, John. Brokering alliances…. helping out at Proxima…. doing what I could…."
"Why…. here?"
"Business with the Alliance. I don't suppose she told you. No, of course not. She's the one who got you into this whole mess in the first place. She's not likely to want to get you out of it. Her, and all the Minbari. It was thanks to them you were infected with this…. awful virus, wasn't it? I know where it came from, John."
"How…?" He was blinking slowly. His eyes were vague and unfocussed.
"I've…. access to important information. I can help you, John. We can help you. We have a cure. We might even be able to do something with your injuries. I can't promise that…. but we can do more for you than they can here. And even if we can't…. what sort of place is this for you? You should be with your own kind…. not these aliens.
"Come with me, John. Come home."
"Where? Come…. where?"
"Proxima. We can cure you there. We can help you. You were just…. led astray. Brainwashed, even. The President might not like the idea of your coming back, but he understands. You're no threat to him any more. Come home."
"Cure…? Oh no. Dad…. tell me…. you didn't…. The Shadows…."
"Shadows? What sort of name is that? Yes, I work for them, John, but they helped me. They help all of us."
"They…. did this…. to me…."
"No. Delenn did that to you. And G'Kar, and all of these aliens here. John…. the Shadows…. are our friends. They helped me. They saved my life. Without them, I'd be dead. As dead as your mother is."
"No…. Don't want to hear this."
"What choice do you have? John, listen to me! The Minbari have got to you, and they've brought you here! Jha'dur infected you thanks to them! They caused you to rebel against your own Government…. to fire on your own ships…. to kill your own people.
"And as for Anna…."
"No. I'm just dreaming." The cry was pitiful, almost too painful for him to bear, but he continued. Some things had to be said.
"They did that to you, John. I don't…. understand how you could do…. what you did to her…. but you're my son, and you always will be. I forgive you. Just come home."
"No. Who are you? My Dad would never work for…. those things. I don't…. I'm dreaming. You're not real. Go away."
He sighed softly, and then nodded. "I see. I'm sorry, John. I'm…. really sorry. But you're still my son." He rose to his feet, and slowly walked to the door. "Goodbye, John." Then he left.
John Sheridan stayed awake long into the night, wet tears on his face.
* * *
Alfred Bester had once thought of his greatest virtue as being that he always knew where his priorities lay. As he contemplated the end of Sanctuary he weighed them up in his mind and found that they were accurate, as always.
Sanctuary had been a great asset to him, but it was now in danger, and if it must be lost, then lost it must be. There were greater things to worry about.
His people, his friends, and his loved one…. not necessarily in that order.
By necessity he had trusted very few people in the course of his life. His own people, of course, he had always known and wished to trust implicitly. All telepaths and telekinetics were his siblings after all, and they would one day inherit the galaxy together. Sadly, however, he had learned through bitter experience that too many of them were more like wayward children than attentive brothers and sisters. Too many of them did not understand, and wanted to do things…. differently.
Although he wished for little else than to trust them all, he knew that as a practicality he could trust very few. It was truly sad, but they were his people and he could forgive them anything. He had even forgiven Donne, for her…. misguided actions that had caused her failure, and his current predicament.
But while his own people could be forgiven anything, mundanes were a different matter entirely. They bred like rabbits, they had no regard for themselves or others, and they killed indiscriminately. He did not hate them, but as far as he was concerned they were simply a lesser breed. He did not hate animals for failing to understand how things truly worked, so why should he hate mundanes, who were after all only animals?
Two of them however, much to his surprise, had become his friends.
One of them was by now almost certainly dead, and he was as saddened by Michael's death as he would have been had any of his own people died. A sad, unfortunate waste of life. He had gone to break the news to Michael's widow Lianna as soon as he was sure. He owed his friend that much at least.
His other mundane friend was with him now, putting into action one of the final stages of a safety plan both of them had conceived in anticipation of things going as badly wrong as they had.
Captain Ari Ben Zayn, one of the most talented and experienced soldiers in these troubled times, listened carefully to Bester's requirements, interrupting every so often with a comment or advisory of his own. He had helped devise this plan, but that did not mean he was comfortable with it.
When Bester was finished, Ben Zayn spoke up: "I still think you're taking too much responsibility for this upon yourself," he said. "Surely another of us can take on your role."
"Impossible, as I said. Our enemies know me. They do not know the rest of us. Firstly, we must conceal from them our true strength and numbers, and secondly…. if anyone else takes on my role then they might decide on an alternative strategy and our plan will be wasted."
"It's too risky."
"Life is a risk. Come now, Captain, we do not even know if the Government at Proxima will attack here. They may not know of the exact circumstances of my betrayal. All these preparations may not be necessary."
"Only a fool spends all his time hoping for everything to work out for the best," the scar-faced Captain said bluntly.
"And neither of us is a fool. No…. if they come for us we will know, and we will be ready. Sanctuary is not our only line of defence. You know what to do, Captain."
"I know." He rose from his seat, and saluted. He then turned and made for the door. Just as he reached it, Bester suddenly halted him.
