"Tell me, Narn."

"No…."

"Then I'll kill them all!" Oblivious to the blood pouring from her eyes, her nose, her mouth, Donne threw back her head and sent instantaneous thought-messages to the Machine that engulfed her.

Missiles shot forth from the belly of the planet, seeking the warring factions above.

What have they done to my city?

Londo Mollari loved Centauri Prime. He loved the capital. He loved the Court, the temples, the offices, the libraries, the barracks buildings. He loved every street, every corner, every alley. He had spent the best part of his life there and there was nowhere he would rather be.

Words did not exist to describe his sadness as the transport flew over the city.

He had been in touch with his agents in the capital for some time and they had reported that matters there were bad, but he would never in a million years have believed it was this bad.

Buildings burned, the Guard — the Royal Guard — were fighting each other in the streets. Shops were being looted, people cut down, children murdered, women raped…. The whole city seemed to have gone insane.

Great Maker, what have we done? Malachi, what have you done? Can any power be worth this?

His nephew was there somewhere. Carn. Londo had sent him to manipulate the factions, to make things easier for when they needed to push north and take the capital. All those machinations seemed so hollow now. Where was Carn? A victim of this insanity? Or a part of it?

The flyer docked at the heliport and Londo disembarked with Lennier. This was where Malachi had said he would meet them.

"Stay here as long as you can," Londo instructed the pilot. Clearly afraid, the pilot nodded.

"What have they done to my city?" he asked, looking about him. The heliport was largely untouched, but the glow from the fires was bright and the screams of the victims could be heard even here. They were on the outskirts of the city. Perhaps the rioters had simply not yet reached this far.

"There is a madness here. Something…. someone perhaps, is affecting their minds." Lennier was looking around distastefully. Those were the first words Londo could recall him saying since they had left Remarin.

"Then why are we not affected?"

"Perhaps we are too strong for it? Perhaps you are anyway. I…. can feel it there. It is close, but…. my meditations will protect me."

"That is reassuring," came the sarcastic reply, but his heart was not really in it. His Minbari friend was hiding something, but he did not press him on it. Lennier had earned his privacy. "What will protect me? Large amounts of brivare, perhaps?"

"Your faith," came the simple reply.

"Faith and I parted ways a long time ago."

Lennier only nodded in reply. He looked distracted.

A few minutes later a squad of guardsmen appeared, walking towards them. Londo stiffened, and Lennier stepped in front of him, adopting a fighting stance. The guards stopped a fair distance away.

"Governor Mollari," said the leading guard, "we are to escort you to your meeting with First Minister Malachi. Please hurry. The streets are not safe."

"I noticed. But would I be any safer with you?"

The guard seemed insulted. "My orders are to escort you to the First Minister, and that is what I will do. He intended to meet you here, but conditions have worsened since he last spoke with you and he fears to travel the streets. We will provide a safe escort for you and your companion." Londo hesitated, and the guard continued. "He also said, if you proved suspicious, to remind you of your shoes. He hopes they are not too tight any more."

Londo relaxed. "Well, that means at least that you came from Malachi himself. Stand down, Lennier. We will go with these men." He went back to the flyer and turned to the pilot.

"Take up a safe position some distance from here. Come back and check this place every hour, on the hour. If we are not here in six hours, then leave and tell the Government at Selini that we are lost."

"Yes, Governor."

Londo turned back to his escort. "Merely a precaution. Well, then, Captain…. let us go."

She has seen death, too much death. She has known war, far too much of it. She has stood, high and imperious, as others bled and fought and died in her name. She has tried to renounce these old ways and embrace a new path, but conflict seems to follow the fallen Satai Delenn wherever she goes.

She remembers the title she gave to Captain Smith. Zha'valen. Outcast. A shadow upon Valen. She has not thought of that title in months, not since she took on a new position of power, one which she swore not to abuse in the way she had the last.

And yet she has brought her people, her followers, her friends, and the man she loves above all else, to this place…. and the war seems to have followed them.

Her incarceration in the brig had been short-lived, as some of G'Kar's Narn Rangers had managed to free her within hours. The fighting for the station had been brief, but bloody. Captain Smith had left many of his Security officers here, and Delenn had no doubt they were trained to the pinnacle of human efficiency. But this was not their home, they did not believe as the Narns did, they had not been trained to give their lives for the greater good, as the Narns had….

They were not Rangers.

Looking at them, talking to them, being with them, Delenn felt a brief surge of pride. These were truly as the Rangers of old, of Valen's day. She and those like her might have failed in their duties, but the gauntlet had been picked up, and was being wielded with the iron glove of the warrior and the open palm of the peacemaker.

But for all the pride she felt, there was an equal amount of guilt. The gauntlet should never have been thrown down in the first place. How different would things have been if the sin of pride had never overtaken her people?

She walked on to the command deck of the station, to find Lethke already there. He turned to greet her, and managed a faint smile. "Delenn…. it is good to see you are safe."

"Are any of us truly safe? How is it going?"

"Ah, I chose to study economics rather than warfare, and so I can't really say. The odds, however, look to be against us. Taan Churok has taken his personal flyer and is joining our ships, but…. there seems to be rather a lot of them."

"Anything from the planet?"

"No. Not a word. I fear it has been compromised."

Delenn closed her eyes, and thought of G'Kar…. warrior and peacemaker in one. If he had fallen, then…. No. Time for doubts later. She knew full well the importance of this place, and just how much it had to be protected.

She turned to the leader of the Rangers who had rescued her. "G'Dok, how much control do we have over the weapons?"

"All we need."

"Good…. we have to try to take out the weapons systems of the enemy ships. Drive them away if possible. Is…. is the weaponry here capable of doing that?"

"Babylon Four was built as a place of war just as much as a place of peace. We can do that."

Delenn nodded and smiled, noting that some of the Rangers were already on post. She did not involve herself, but she did walk to the front of the control room, the better to see the state of the battle, and those who were dying.

G'Dok barked out something in his own language. He was evidently concerned. Delenn was about to ask him what he had discovered, when she suddenly realised she did not need to.