Something rose up before them, swamping everything with its shadow. She could not see what it was. It was huge. A light burst out, burning and blazing. John threw her aside and turned to face it.

The light is killing me!

She felt strong hands catch her and turned to see Taan Churok, his stern face filled with compassion.

"You saw something?" asked Ta'Lon. She could only nod weakly. "Another one. This will only get worse as time goes on. We must leave for the surface immediately. Mr. Garibaldi, Dr. Kirkish, gather whatever you need and meet me at the docking bays. Minister Churok, Minister Lethke, can you bring over as much of your Security as you can spare from your ships?"

"What if what's afflicting this place starts affecting people on our ships?" asked Lethke.

Ta'Lon shook his head. "It won't."

"How do you know?" Taan Churok gently released Delenn and rounded on the Narn, who was almost as big as he was. "Do you know what is causing all this?"

"No," the Narn lied. "We must hurry. Go. Now!"

Angrily, the Drazi and the Brakiri left, both of them casting brief glances at Delenn. The two humans had already gone, leaving Delenn alone with the Ranger. "You do know," she said, not accusingly, just with a sure and certain conviction.

"Yes," he said. "You know about the destiny of this station?" She nodded, remembering with uncomfortable pain the time she and John had seen it, two years before, travelling backwards in time on a terrifying journey. "Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar built the station in the hope that it could serve as a focus point in this struggle against the Shadow. He knew however that it had another destiny. It would go back in time a thousand years, and take Valen back with it. Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar had no idea of what would happen to Valen, or from where he would come. He knew only that it was his task to build this place.

"The temporal rift to take the station back in time would have to come from the Great Machine. One of the first things the Ha'Cormar'ah did upon taking custody of the Machine was to establish how to open the rift.

"The station was built with the temporal machinery already within it, devices that came from the Machine, for the purpose of stabilising it on its trip back. The rift was already partially created when the station was finished. Like a door, held ever so slightly ajar. Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar hoped that when the day came, opening the rift would be easy, and the journey effortless.

"I fear that the Machine has begun to open the temporal rift further in recent months. Why, I do not know, but something has happened on the planet, and it jeopardises not only the station, but all our futures."

Delenn nodded, feeling very burdened by the weight of these revelations. Some she already knew, but not all. "Why have you told me all this?"

"Only Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, myself and Zathras know all of this. If I do not return from the planet…." He reverently touched the hilt of the longsword fixed to his back. "If I do not return, then someone else must know, and carry forth the future.

"And you, Delenn, you were the beloved of Neroon, for whom I would have given my life."

She sighed. Neroon. She had all but forgotten him recently. How could she have done that? He had once meant everything to her.

"Walk with Valen, Ta'Lon," she said softly.

"G'Quan be with you. The Prophet G'Kar as well." He turned and left.

Delenn shook her head sadly, and looked around at the empty chamber. There was still much to be done. She contemplated sending a message to John, but then swiftly decided against it. She had no proof of any improprieties perpetrated by Bester, and there might well be a genuine emergency that needed John and the Parmenion. She would only call John when she was certain they all needed him, not just that she wanted him.

But Sinoval at least was here. Her heart heavy, she set off in search of him.

She did not have long to look.

He came up the corridor, not running, but striding at a considerable pace. Even the Soul Hunter leader beside him seemed to be having trouble keeping up. "Sinoval," she said, with a start. "There is a problem here. We need…."

He interrupted her, shaking his head. "Your need must wait, Delenn. Tarolin Two has been attacked by an unknown force. I heard about it only just now. I was coming to find either you or G'Kar, and tell you that I am leaving immediately."

"Leaving? But…."

"I know where my loyalties lie, Delenn. To my people. Tarolin Two swore itself to me, and I swore to defend them. You have criticised my loyalty often enough, Delenn."

"No, not your loyalty. That will be the last thing you will ever lose, Sinoval. I sometimes wonder if it is misplaced." She remembered a promise she herself had made, not many months ago. She had renounced her claim to power amongst the Minbari. She had been exiled from them and stripped of all position and authority. Her very appearance now set her apart from them. She chose to accept only those who accepted her, those who did not wish to ally themselves with any faction seeking war.

"Go then, Sinoval. Your loyalties are…. where they should be."

"I thank you, Delenn. As soon as Tarolin Two is safe, I will see what I can do about returning here."

"Go. And…. Valen be with you."

"I certainly hope not, Delenn, but I appreciate the sentiment. And you."

He left, hurrying down the corridor, three Soul Hunters following. Delenn felt a chill as she watched them pass.

No matter how much time passed, she would never get used to Sinoval's allies. Never.

She hurried back towards the command room. There was still work to do.

It is time. Things are moving faster than even I had expected. I am not sure if that is not the real tragedy of this, just how little I had to do to get matters to the situation I wanted. Were we always this close to disaster?

Malachi, First Minister of the Centauri Republic sat back, sighing. He had been looking at the viewscreen for almost an hour, thinking dark thoughts and considering making the call that could end this for good. The cold logic of his plan said that he shouldn't — there had already been enough interruptions from that quarter. But the warmth of idealistic friendship said that he should. Londo had a right to know, more than anyone else.

But would he understand?

Malachi could smell the smoke on the wind. He had left all the windows in his chamber open for that very purpose, even though it brought in the bitter cold. He needed the smoke. It was a reminder of what his plan had brought about.

The city and the Court were on the edge of disaster. Nobles had been growing ever more suspicious of each other for months, and their slow gathering of near-armies for 'protection' would inevitably result in this paranoia. The Shadow Criers were spreading chaos and anarchy wherever they went…. yes, and death. Their recent 'murder' of Lord Dugari, coupled with the leak that a noble was supporting them, had only made a bad situation worse, and a horrible possibility a dreadful inevitability.

And Malachi had had to do so little. He had had nothing to do with the death of Lord Dugari, little to do with the gathering of private armies, and had orchestrated only the first few exilings from the Court. He was surprised, and terribly saddened, at just how easy it had been to bring matters to this state.

All it took to destroy an Empire was to kill a ruler, several nobles, subtly spread distrust and misinformation, and put in a little effort where required.