"We need more revenue?" Delenn asked. Lethke nodded. "Then we will have more revenue. We will find a way, but we will take in the refugees."
"We went to help the Minbari because we thought they would be allies," said Vizhak. "Not burdens."
"We went to help them because it was right and just that we do so! We will help all we can."
"But the cost?"
"We will find it," Lethke said. "Accept all you can, Delenn. We will find the money from somewhere."
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you. Besides, Minister Vizhak, my people will not burden you. Many of those who come here are from the worker caste. They will be happy to work."
He grunted. "Then let them work."
* * *
Morden stood over the body and sighed, his eyes for one brief moment still glowing golden.
"Well," he said, "that was constructive, at least."
"Your orders, sir?" asked the security guard, Jack.
"My orders…." His eyes flashed golden again, and he smiled. "Yes, she is the right one. We had to be sure, obviously. Still, my…. associates think she's been through enough now. You…. did record the direction she ran, of course?"
"Of course, sir."
"Good. Then pick her up some time tonight. Whenever's most convenient. You know where to take her." He clicked his tongue lightly. "Yes, quite a productive evening."
He looked down at Julie Musante's dead body and nodded briefly.
* * *
They are my children, my people. We are special, unique, better than the others.
Alfred Bester was confused, an emotion most unfamiliar and most unwelcome. Especially now. He had always been so sure, so convinced of his place in life. As far back as he could remember, he had been clear and precise of thought. The Corps was mother, the Corps was father. He obeyed the Corps. He trusted the Corps. He believed in the Corps.
The Corps was gone now of course, but a part of it remained, in him, and in this place — Sanctuary. A legacy of numerous Corps projects, outfitted and renovated with resources secreted away long ago, allowed to endure at the behest of a strong Narn ally and a weak Resistance Government.
But things were changing. Their Narn ally was growing weaker, over-extending himself, risking everything in a futile war. G'Kar had been demanding more and more telepathic DNA from Bester and Sanctuary. His attempts at creating Narn telepaths had been successful at first, but the success was terminally short term. The quest would ultimately consume him.
And the Resistance Government…. they were growing stronger and stronger. Freed from the shackles of slavery, they now approached the Narn Government from a position of power rather than weakness. They had cannibalised Minbari ships and colonies and technology and were building a fleet at an extraordinary rate. Sooner or later, Bester knew, they would go up against G'Kar himself.
And there was little doubt who would win. The Resistance Government — if their war machine continued advancing at the projected rate — would soon be an even match for G'Kar's known resources. But with the aid of their Shadow allies….
Bester's resources — his two capital ships and his telepaths — could tip the conflict one way or the other.
Telepaths are my children. We are the future. We are the destiny.
His commscreen suddenly began flashing at him, and he started irritably. He knew who it would be, and he was right.
"Greetings, Mr. Welles," he said, smiling. Welles was not supposed to know this frequency, but he had found it out somehow. Very few secrets were safe from Proxima's Chief of Security.
"Mr. Bester. A pleasure as always. I should just let you know, your representative here, Miss Donne…. She committed another murder last night. She was quite clumsy this time, and chose inappropriately. A fairly high-ranking member of the Ministry of Trade. Pressure is mounting on me to find this murderer, both from our beloved President and from my own sense of justice. Have you reconsidered my offer?"
Bester was swearing inwardly. He had known for a long time that Donne had certain…. sociopathic tendencies, but so long as only mundanes were harmed, what did it matter? Evidently, it mattered to some.
"Put me in contact with G'Kar so that I may form a…. useful alliance with him, and I will ensure Donne is not blamed. Otherwise…. well, under the Wartime Emergency Provisions she would be executed if found guilty, which I assure you there is more than enough evidence to manage. I just want to speak with G'Kar."
"I will have to pass your request on to G'Kar, Mr. Welles," Bester said smoothly. "I will contact you again."
"Do not take too long." The image faded and Bester walked away from the screen, muttering to himself. That was one offer he had been made recently. There had been another — ostensibly from Ambassador Sheridan, but originating from a far more powerful source. That source wanted G'Kar betrayed…. utterly.
He weighed up the possibilities in his mind, thinking over and over again of his people — the ones who trusted him and who relied on him…. who needed him. He thought of the woman he loved, the child they had together and the ones they hoped for later.
And after several hours, a plan began to shape itself in his mind.
* * *
Catherine Sakai groaned softly as consciousness returned to her. Everything around her was dark, pitch black. But there was a more metaphorical darkness engulfing her as well.
She had seen them kill Julie, shooting her in the back without a second thought. Security guards. People wearing the uniform of security guards.
She hadn't been over-paranoid. She had been, if anything, not paranoid enough.
She had run, even managing to escape from Julie's apartment, but some time later — it could have been hours even — wandering around helplessly, she had been hit from behind, and fallen….
And now she was awake.
Lights suddenly came on all around her, and she shut her eyes from the pain. She tried to raise her hands to shield her face, but they were fixed to the chair she was sitting in.
"Greetings, Miss Sakai," said a voice she knew. Polite, polished, urbane, civilised….
She looked in the direction of the voice and saw a face she knew as well. The face of a man who was believed to have died years ago at Orion 7.
"I suppose you would like to know what has been happening, hmm?" asked William Edgars.
Once upon a time there was a man with a dream, a simple dream — to explore the stars, to learn from the wonders dead races had left behind, to discover the past and to build a better future. And then there came other men, with other dreams — dreams of money, and power, and riches.
And from these men there came a company called Interplanetary Expeditions, and then there came power, and money. The company grew strong and wealthy, and those who commanded it commanded power and influence elsewhere, even in government.
And then there came a race of aliens called the Minbari. Seeking revenge for a wrong, they erased and destroyed countless dreams, and for a time even those who sought to discover the past in the name of the future found their goals in doubt.
But then there came a saviour, who made them an offer — an offer which seemed so innocuous, which seemed to give so much and ask so little in return. A simple favour, to be paid back at a future date.
This is that future date, and the favour asked for is being repaid.
It is not much, really. One person, just one soul against the countless others balanced out before them.
One person whose life — and death — will change the galaxy.
* * *
Captain John Sheridan could not resist a smile as he looked at the hall of the main spaceport on Kazomi 7. As a sign of the triumph of hope over despair, of construction over destruction, there could hardly be a better symbol.
He remembered arriving here last year, as the colony was only just recovering from the horrors of the Drakh occupation. He remembered the devastation, the pitiful cries of the starving and the dying, the signs of despair and terror.
And now…. Kazomi 7 was the centre of an Alliance — a precarious one, to be sure, but an Alliance of Worlds nonetheless. There was hope in the eyes of those around him, eyes that were gazing at the future as if they had forgotten what it looked like.
"Impressive, isn't it?" he remarked to his companion. Commander Corwin nodded briefly. He had been distracted almost since they had left Babylon 4. Still, he was looking at the numerous customs officials and arrivals here, noting each of them almost abstractly.
A young man in a black robe came towards them, his hands folded into a steeple before him. Sheridan recognised him as the technomage Vejar, and nodded to him briefly. He nodded back. "We bid you welcome, Starkiller," he said, in a precise, immaculate tone, almost like someone who knows how to speak but has never actually tried it before.
"It's a pleasure to be here, Vejar. We have some of the mineral samples your government asked G'Kar for."
"Ah, yes. I am sure Minister Lethke or Minister Churok will be here soon to take delivery of them. I believe they are planning some sort of scientific experiment in our quantium refining plants."
Sheridan nodded. Quantium-40 was a vital element in jump gate construction. Minister Lethke seemed to think he might be able to build a plant here to refine the raw elements into pure quantium-40. If that was true, then it would be a real boost to the Alliance's economy.
Sheridan looked at Vejar closely. The technomage seemed to be studying him. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"
"You have been…. touched. Someone…. is lost in darkness. Someone close to you."
Sheridan started. "What…? What do you mean?"
"You are marked. By the future, and by the past. You are touched somehow, and you have seen things you should not have seen. You have pierced the barrier between times…. Where have you been recently?"
"Recently? Well…. on patrol…. Babylon Four mainly. Why? What is this about?"
Vejar shook his head. "Ah, I fear it is nothing. Merely…. nothing. Has anything strange happened to you? Any…. visions, dreams perhaps?"
"I always dream. Who doesn't these days? Nothing serious though."
"Of course. My…. apologies for bothering you, Captain. I remember now that you have been involved with Vorlons at various times. That could explain a great deal. Good day."
He started to leave, but Sheridan stopped him. "Wait! Do you…. know where Delenn is?"
"She will be here in a moment." He gently pulled himself free of Sheridan's grip and nodded his head, before turning and moving away. Sheridan shook his head, and then turned to look at his companion. Corwin shrugged.
At that point, the figure of Sheridan's beloved appeared at the door.
All thought of the confusing conversation with Vejar left him as he ran towards Delenn, calling out her name. Smiling, she stepped forward and let him engulf her in his arms, lifting her up into the air and kissing her lightly.
"I missed you," he whispered to her, over and over again. "I missed you."
