The Telepath War

by vjs2259

Set in the same AU as New Beginnings, this is the start of the Telepath War, and tells of those directly involved, such as Lyta Alexander, and those swept up in events, such as Anla'shok Na Susan Ivanova. This part of the tale is now complete.

1. Collateral Damage

The Telepath War

Part I: Collateral Damage (AU 2273)

Some Minbari phrases and titles from the Earth-Minbari dictionary, assembled by John Hightower.

Standard disclaimer applies; not my characters or settings or backgrounds. But they are my words.

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They lay in rows on narrow cots, male and female, middle-aged and older. The room was pleasantly bright, with long low windows letting in the early morning sunlight. A few were open, the crisp sheer curtains fluttering in the gentle breeze. The only sounds were of soft breathing, an occasional cough, and the rustling of robes as some of the patients stirred restlessly in their sleep.

By the side of one bed, a young Minbari female sat upright in a straight backed chair. She was deep in meditation, awaiting her father's awakening. She'd traveled a long way the previous day, and had petitioned to be let in early, so as not to miss a moment of her visit. It had been four months since she had been able to come to the facility, and she had felt the absence of her previously regular visits. She missed her father.

When he had come back from the war, he had been well for a while: able to take up his work, and re-connect with his family and his clan. After about six years, disturbing symptoms had appeared. He had dreams; dreams of screaming ships and black shadows, from which he awakened trembling, and drenched with sweat. Eventually the dreams began to penetrate his waking life; and he saw the Enemy everywhere. He could not bear a room without light, for they lurked in the darkness. He could not bear even candle light, for they lingered in the dark corners. Light had become his only friend, but also his enemy. For there are no shadows without the light.

The room brightened further as the sun crept into the room over the windowsills. Although the breeze was cool, it promised to be a warm day, atypical for this time of year. Marthenn came swimming up through her trance, and watched the dust motes dance in the sunbeams with quiet appreciation. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed, becoming charged with tension. Eyes flew open as every patient awakened at once. She looked around, wondering if this was normal for telepaths who lived in close proximity. They stared into the space above their heads, or at each other; their expressions spoke of both hope and horror. Then they began, all at once, to whisper; soft mutterings she couldn't quite hear. Looking back at her father, she saw his eyes fixed on her face, though she didn't think he really knew it was her. He spoke, and she leaned over to catch his low words.

"She's coming. She's coming. She's coming." He said it over and over, like a mantra. She looked around the room, and as the voices grew louder, she realized in horror that they all were saying the same thing. "She's coming. She's coming. She's coming."

"Who?" she asked her father urgently, "Who is coming?" She took hold of one shoulder and gently shook him, trying to snap him out of whatever was possessing his troubled mind.

For a moment, his eyes focused on her, and he seemed to recognize her. He grasped her hand, and said, "She fought them. She knew them."

Marthenn said again, "Who is she? When is she coming?"

His eyes darted back and forth frantically for a moment, as if searching the room for someone. "She will help. She remembers." Then, he raised up in bed, and gripping his daughter's shoulders, and spoke directly to her. "Find Entil'zha. He will bring her to us. Find him, Marthenn!" He slumped forward, and she lowered him back down with difficulty. The others had stopped their incantation, and were beginning to wake up normally. None of them seemed to remember what had happened. Marthenn looked down at her father, who was smiling up at her.

"How long have you been here, daughter? Can you stay a while?"

Marthenn smiled back absently, and responded in kind. All the while she was thinking and planning how she was going to get to Tuzanoor. She had to speak with Entil'zha. Her father had made a request, and if she could honor it, she would. She would find John Sheridan, and find out who was coming, and what they could do to help her father and the other telepathic veterans of the Shadow War.

************

Susan Ivanova had an early meeting with the head of Ranger combat training on Tuzanoor. She was on her way back to her office when she saw President Delenn walking ahead of her, on her own way to her office. After exchanging affectionate greetings, Susan asked, "What do you have on tap for today?"

Delenn looked quizzical at the unusual turn of phrase, but responded, "The usual. Meetings, then a break for more meetings, followed, for variety, by some meetings. Nothing seemingly worth getting out of bed for; but all necessary, or so I am assured."

Susan laughed, "My day is much the same. I hope to get out to the training grounds to observe the denn'bok sessions. I'm told we have some very promising recruits this year."

"Will John be supervising the training? I would appreciate your opinion on something." Delenn looked worried, and Susan paused, taking her aside, out of earshot of her Ranger guards.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

Delenn shook her head, "Not that I can pinpoint. He has been having headaches, I know, and refuses to see the healers again. He simply says that there is nothing they can do."

"How can he know that until he lets them try?" Susan expostulated. "Stubborn man…anything else going on?"

"The dreams," Delenn added reluctantly. "Terrible dreams, shadows of Shadows. I am concerned, Susan. He is so tired lately, and the interrupted sleep is not helping."

Susan nodded, and said reassuringly, "I'll convince him to come to the training session with me. Maybe I can get something out of him. He hates to worry you, you know."

Delenn smiled wryly, "He never seems to learn that I find his attempts to not worry me extremely worrying." Then she smiled and gestured for them to continue walking. "When is Lennier due back from his mission?"

"Not for a while yet," Susan said, "He's stopping off to visit Vir, and didn't say how long he'd be."

"Does that not bother you?" asked Delenn, who hadn't spent more than a handful of days separated from John since they took up their roles as leaders of the Alliance.

Susan smiled, "Not really. I think we're still getting used to being together. We've both lived alone for so many years that it's good to have our time apart. Besides, we are both terrifically busy." She almost laughed at the concerned look on Delenn's face, "We're okay, really! I miss him, and I'm sure he misses me, but we also enjoy being on our own. That's all."

"If you are sure. I could order him back for you, if you like." Delenn's eyes were dancing as she teased her friend.

"If he stays away too long, I'll take you up on that!" They had reached Delenn's offices, and Susan stopped at the doorway. "I'll go see what John's up to now, and talk him into coming out with me this afternoon, all right?"

Delenn touched her arm in gratitude, and bowed her head slightly, "I would appreciate that. Let me know if you think there is anything I can do."

"Of course," Susan bowed slightly in return, then turned and walked on towards John's office, further down the hallway.

Delenn watched her go, her brow still slightly furrowed with anxiety. Then she turned and entered the anteroom, going straight past the opening to the waiting room on the left, pausing only slightly to greet the Minbari seated outside her inner office.

"Good morning. Would you be so kind as to bring me some tea? I would like to go over the files on the new applicants for Alliance membership before we get started…"

The aide interrupted her, "Apologies, Madam President. You have a visitor. She would not give her name, saying only that she was an old friend, and that you would see her. She is waiting in the anteroom."

Delenn looked at her in surprise. It was not like her aide to allow anyone to wait inside the office area without being identified; especially not since the spate of attacks in recent years. All of their administrative staff were either Rangers, or had undergone training in defensive combat techniques; Susan had insisted on it. Warily, she turned back and approached the archway leading to the waiting area. Inside she caught a glimpse from the back, of a slender woman with shoulder-length red hair. For just a moment, she felt a moment of sick recognition that made her feel as if she were falling; but as the vertigo passed, she recognized the figure.

"Lyta?" she said, advancing towards her friend with outstretched hands. "When did you get here? Why didn't you let us know you were coming?"

Lyta Alexander turned from the statuary she had been examining, and smiled. "Delenn! It is good to see you again."

As the two women briefly embraced, Delenn's mind flew back to the last time she had seen the telepath. It had been shortly before she left Babylon 5 with G'Kar, on their mutual voyage of outer exploration and inner discovery, and after the horrible deaths of Byron and his followers. She had visited Lyta in her quarters, to offer her condolences, and what support she could in that terrible time. Lyta had been unable, or unwilling, to hear her then. Perhaps she could mend some of that rift now.

"Come inside, and have some tea. I have a short while before my first official duties of the day. Will you be here long? We had heard of your return, first from Lennier, and also from G'Kar on his last visit." She gestured Lyta ahead of her into the office, and after seating her on a small couch in front of a stone alcove in the wall, sat next to her. The alcove was filled with candles, ranging from a few inches to two feet tall, which were faintly scented with a Minbari herb that was reminiscent of cinnamon and lemon combined. They sat in silence while the aide bustled in, bringing a silvery tray, laden with a ceramic teapot and delicate white cups that held a flush of pink color inside. The aide laid the tray on a low table in front of the couch, and lit the candles. Delenn occupied herself pouring out the tea.

The tea was yellow and Lyta thought it smelled like sun-warmed grass. She took the cup and bowed her head towards her hostess, then held it up briefly in offering to Valen. She had been among many cultures by now, and appreciated the differences she had found. Her mission, however, had been to explore the similarities: to identify and contact her own people, who were scattered among the races of the Universe. The Vorlons had modified her to carry their energy, and also expanded her telepathic abilities so that she could walk comfortably in the minds of all the races. Telepaths of those races were even more accessible to her, and she had found her life's work in contacting her brothers and sisters; letting them know how they had come to be, and what more they could be, if they were allowed. Now, finally, she was ready to act; ready to free her own immediate family from their bondage, and, in the process, to eliminate her enemies. She smiled grimly as she sipped her tea. She wanted the Alliance's help, or to be more precise, their pledge to not interfere in her plans. Delenn had always been favorably disposed to the telepaths' quest to find their place in the Universe, so she was starting with her. Minbari telepaths were allowed to live freely among the non-gifted; pledged to a code of conduct, and trusted to abide by it. It was one of the more enlightened worlds in her opinion; not like her home system. No, Delenn would at least hear her out. It was Sheridan of whom she was unsure, and from what she had heard; their decisions were joint ones. She would have to tread carefully there. They had not parted on good terms.

************

Marthenn sat anxiously in the outer office of Entil'zha John Sheridan, spiritual head of the Anla'shok, the man who had won the Shadow War, and also the heart of Delenn, chosen of Dukhat; she who had undergone the transformation a'Valensha, and broken and reformed the Grey Council. She felt that she was petitioning legends, and only her desperation and her love for her father kept her in her seat. She spent the time alternately trying to meditate to calm herself, and praying to her clan's ancestors for guidance. Although she sat motionless and superficially still, her agitation was betrayed by her hands. She nervously clenched and unclenched them, trying to hide their restless unquiet.

"You may come in now."

The voice sounded unnaturally loud, although she was sure the Minbari aide wasn't shouting at her. Rising on trembling legs, she followed Sathenn into the inner office, where Entil'zha was seated behind a desk. Sathenn guided her to a straight-backed chair directly across from Sheridan, and indicated she should take a seat. She looked at the Minbari in mute terror, and was nonplussed to see him wink at her. She heard what sounded like a muffled laugh, and turned to see John Sheridan trying to compose his face.

"Sathenn, would you bring my guest and myself some tea? I think Secha…Marthenn, was it? She might appreciate the garjin blend. My wife says it is very calming."

Marthenn started to tremble again as she realized that he was referring to Delenn herself. Then she took hold of her courage, and said, "Entil'zha, my errand is urgent. May I speak?"

John nodded at Sathenn to indicate he should retreat. Sathenn bowed and retreated, closing the door behind him. John leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him, and said gently, "How may I be of service, Marthenn? Your message said this involved the Shadow War? You are young to remember that period."

Encouraged by John's gentle questioning, Marthenn began her story. As she related what had happened in the rehabilitation facility, she noticed the man in front of her began to rub one temple as if in pain. He winced at her account of her father's degeneration, and seemed surprised at her description of the number of patients in the facility and their mental state.

Abruptly standing up, he approached Marthenn's chair, and said, "Come with me, I need to find out more about this. Let's go talk with Delenn." He indicated she should follow him, and strode down the corridor, with swift sure strides.

John was not sure what to think about what Marthenn had told him. Her tale of the psychically damaged veterans of the war made him incredibly angry. He had no idea they were languishing in group housing, taken care of, but not being treated for their condition. In fairness, there might not be any treatment, but by God, someone should be trying to find one. He had started at a slow burn, but was becoming angrier as he walked the short distance down the corridor to his wife's offices. His head was starting to pound again also. The damn headaches were getting worse, and if Delenn had any idea how bad they were, she would have physically dragged him to the healers herself. As for Marthenn's story about the mysterious 'she' who was coming to deliver them-- he was inclined to discount that as some form of group hallucination. He supposed telepaths suffering mental illness might transfer images one to another. There was still a lot about telepathy that was not understood…not on Earth, and not on Minbar.

He swept into the Presidential offices, nodding to Delenn's aide, who stood at his approach. The aide looked curiously at the small Minbari female trailing behind Entil'zha, barely keeping up with him. She started to tell Sheridan that Delenn was engaged, but reconsidered when she caught sight of his face. Reassuring herself that Delenn would not mind an interruption of what seemed to be a social call, she held the door for the human and his companion, then closed it behind them. She then went to make herself a cup of tea; it had already been an exhausting morning.

John paused just inside the door, realizing that Delenn had someone with her, a human woman, sitting with her back to him. As he came closer, the other woman stiffened as if aware he was there, then stood and turned to greet him with a slight bow. He stood in shock at the sight of the slim telepath facing him. "Lyta? What are you doing here?"

Delenn rose and went to her husband's side, "Lyta has come to ask us a favor. I thought perhaps we could discuss it over dinner this evening."

John looked from one to the other, wondering what he was in for; then, remembering his companion, gestured to her to come forward. "This is Marthenn. She has come with a request for help, and…"

Marthenn interrupted him, and pointing to Lyta, asked in a tremulous voice. "Is she the one? The one foretold?" Then, approaching Lyta, she bowed deeply, and asked, "Will you help my father and the others? It would be a great service, and you would have our gratitude, and that of our clan."

Lyta looked compassionately at the girl, and asked, "Is your father a telepath? Can you tell me what is wrong with him?"

"He sees shadows, Su'zha, shadows of the war. They are in his mind, and he cannot banish them. He, and the others, spoke of one who was coming. One who had fought, who would remember, and who could help. Are you that one, Su'zha? Will you help them?" answered Marthenn hopefully.

Lyta looked from John to Delenn, her eyes thoughtful, then answered Marthenn directly. "I will do what I can. I promise you that. There are other matters I must discuss first, matters that involve the Alliance. After that, I will do my best to help your father, as I would any telepath in pain or distress. Can you wait a day or so, and guide me?"

"I will, Su'zha. And thank you. I have left my contact information with Sathenn. You can reach me through him. Thank you." Then she turned to John and said in awe, "You have led me to her, Entil'zha. You also have my gratitude."

John led Marthenn to the door, and indicated to Delenn's aide that she should be escorted out of the facility. Returning to the office, he asked Lyta bluntly, "What do you know about this? What's wrong with those people?"

"They have been touched by shadow, President Sheridan. Isn't it obvious? What do you imagine happened to the telepaths you used to block the Shadows' attacks—when they reached into the twisted tortured minds of the Shadow ships' control units? Touching that darkness changes you, especially if they reach back, deep into your mind." She paused, and her eyes narrowed, "But you know that, don't you?"

Delenn watched her husband's eyes widen, and then realization washed over her as she spoke directly to him, "That is what you have been seeing in your dreams, is it not?" Her voice was tinted with unspoken fear. "Does this explain the headaches as well? Or is that something else?"

John put one arm around her, and said softly, "I'm all right. Let's deal with one problem at a time."

Lyta looked at Delenn, and said to her, "He's wrong, you know. We were all affected; it just changes some more than others. Do you know anything about these Minbari telepaths?"

John glanced at Delenn accusingly, "No, I don't. Marthenn told me a tale of people warehoused in hospitals, left to slowly get worse, with no one able to help them. Did you know about this?"

Delenn looked upset, and said, "The Rangers who fought in the war were taken to their own facilities, and any who later needed assistance were cared for in Alliance hospitals. Few of them were telepaths, however. Those of the religious and worker caste who followed us into the war returned to their clans, and the clan leaders are responsible for their care. There have been no requests for assistance; either from the clans or from the Grey Council. I have not been informed of these 'warehouses' as you call them. Did Marthenn say how many there were; give their locations?"

"She said there were half a dozen or so. She left the information with Sathenn." John ran his hand through his hair, and said in a voice tinged with equal amounts of anger and anguish. "We have to help them. We owe it to them."

Delenn touched him on the arm and replied simply, "We will do what we can." Turning to Lyta, she said, "Come for dinner this evening, and we will discuss your proposition. Then we can decide what can be done for our telepaths. We would appreciate any help you can give us."

************

Susan had gotten the message that John could not join her on the training field, and also the request that she come to the residence that evening to attend a meeting with Lyta Alexander. Telepaths, she thought to herself. Why'd it have to be telepaths? Things had been going so well lately, too. She forced her attention back to the trainees in front of her. There were four groups on the field, working in groups of three; two trainees with one instructor. As she watched, the groups ran quickly through the stylized opening movements of the shon'ka, moving together as if performing a choreographed dance. Then each instructor pointed to one trainee in their group, and began the opening feints, aimed at determining weak points in the trainee's defensive posture. She walked about, moving from one group to another, assessing both the trainees' aptitude for the weapon, and the instructors' methods. Pausing at one group, she noticed that the trainee, a dark-haired human female, had her instructor working hard to stay in control of the lesson. Tilting her head towards the other trainee in the group, she asked, "Who is that?"

Sterren, a Minbari cadet, replied, "Her name is Maeve Callahan. Second year. Retired EarthForce."

"Really," said Susan with interest. "How did I miss her name crossing my desk? Do you know where she was stationed?"

"I believe she was last assigned to one of your colony worlds…Orion 7, I think. Look, she's using the ne'khari!"

Susan shifted her gaze back in time to see Ventarr, the Minbari instructor, stagger and fall to one knee, Callahan's weapon pointed at his throat. Then, in a move too swift to follow, he rose, striking upwards at the same time, and the trainee's pike was flying across the field towards Susan's head. Sterren quickly extended his denn'bok, placing it in front of Susan and deflecting the weapon so that it only hit a glancing blow.

"Ow!" she said involuntarily, her hand rubbing her shoulder, "That's going to leave a mark!" The others on the field gathered around her, while both Callahan and Ventarr offered their apologies. The Earth woman waited impatiently, while Susan assured everyone she was all right.

Finally, Callahan turned to Ventarr, and demanded, "What was that last move? I thought the ne'khari had no defense!"

Ventarr smiled, "There is always a defense, although not always a successful one. What is your Earth saying? 'Necessity is the mother of invention'? You have inspired invention, Cadet, and I thank you for the opportunity to learn."

Callahan bowed, unable to repress a triumphal grin, "Will you teach me?"

He said wryly, "As soon as I have determined what exactly I did, I will." Turning to Susan, he asked, "May we return to our session, Anla'Shok Na? Are you in need of a healer?"

Susan shook her head, and said, "No, resume your training. I have to get back to headquarters. I would be interested in learning that move, Ventarr. Let me know when you have time to go over it with me. Nicely done, Callahan."

Ventarr bowed in farewell, then said, "Come, Sterren. Your turn now."

They resumed their positions on the field, as Susan made her way back to the nearby building. There were extensive grounds and gardens around the IA headquarters and the Ranger Academy. In accordance with Minbari design, the training fields, although functional, were also positioned so as to provide breath-taking views, and allow for simple, yet elegant landscaping. Susan paused for a moment at the entrance to the nearest building, and on a whim, turned into a walled enclosure on her left. Inside the stone walls was a manicured square of lawn, inset with a pattern of red and grey brick-like stones, laid flush with the surface. The stones were laid in a concentric pattern; a red path set on a grey background. If you walked carefully along the line laid out by the red stones, you would double back again and again, but eventually you would find yourself in the center, where there was a stone bench in front of a small fountain. The Minbari renna'tee was similar to Earth two-dimensional labyrinths, and both races found the patterned walkways conducive to meditation and decision-making. Walking the path was supposed to calm the mind, and allow one to see possibilities more clearly. Susan felt the need of some calming; as the near miss on the field, her growing concern over John's health, and the upcoming meeting with Lyta all had her on edge.

She paced along the path, trying to slow her steps and not succeeding very well. Her mind kept wandering here and there, picking at one worry after another. Whatever Lyta wanted was likely to prove difficult. She'd never completely trusted the woman; she was a telepath, after all; but Lyta had worked with them side by side during the war, and deserved to be heard. Not having been around when the whole telepath mess blew up on the station, she didn't have the bad feeling that John seemed to have about her. Though from what she'd heard, the lady was plenty dangerous.

She wished Lennier was back. Telling Delenn she didn't mind his frequent trips off-world had been the simple truth, but whenever things got tense, she found herself wanting his steady presence at her back. This job was demanding; one situation, one problem, one crisis after another, and never much time in between to wind down. She'd found his habit of calm acceptance to be very restful. Pausing under the whip-thin branches of the pullar tree, she thought to herself that the Minbari were like that delicate specimen. The finely cut leaves and long branches resonated in the wind. However hard they were blown about, the tree remained firmly seated; rooted as deeply in the ground as the Minbari were in their traditions. She almost laughed out loud at her poetic turn of thought. If she continued the analogy, she'd probably cast herself as the North Wind, harsh and relentless, constantly trying to whip them into shape.

Stopping short, she realized that was part of what was worrying her. She'd only been leading the Rangers for two short years, and those years had been eventful ones. The Rangers were a peculiar institution, part military force, part intelligence corps, and part religious cult. It was true that Delenn and John had spent the last thirteen years working to convert them from their original intelligence and surveillance mission into first, a military, and then a peace-keeping force. It hadn't been easy, and the spiritual and religious overtones were still strong. All the races that joined were still required to learn Minbari, and now English had been added as a requirement as well. She was still struggling with her attempts to learn Adronato, but with her eidetic memory, and the impetus of living on Minbar, it was coming along quickly. Sometimes it felt like she was trying to hold two, or three, completely disparate groups together. She worried, too, what would happen when John finally left them. The Anla'Shok had transferred their loyalties from Jeff to Delenn to John without any trouble. John had achieved mythic status during the Shadow War, and it hadn't hurt when he had married Delenn after the Earth civil war. The Rangers had little problem with that relationship, even though it had taken time for the majority of the Minbari to accept them. There were still significant pockets of the culture which had issues with the incursion of other species into the Anla'Shok and into Minbari culture in general.

The Rangers were a fluid group, shifting hierarchies and command structure in response to the needs of the mission. As the corps had grown in size and responsibility, this had caused some problems. Still, she figured a static and hidebound bureaucracy, like that running Minbar or Earth, or to be honest, EarthForce itself at this point, wouldn't work with this group either. She had to find a middle way, and her own way, since she was now in charge. John was handling most of the duties regarding training and recruitment; leaving her to cover logistics and operations. Delenn, as President of the Alliance, determined strategy, although it was usually decided among the three of them. So far there had been no problems with this structure; but she wasn't sure what either John or Delenn had planned as the twenty years wore on. Suddenly, she realized she had reached the center of the labyrinth. Sitting on the bench, she stretched, feeling the bruised area on her shoulder twinge as she rotated her arm behind her back. It was almost time to join the others, and find out what Lyta had in mind. Walking the path had helped codify some of her concerns, which was good. Now all she had to do was find some solutions. She wished Lennier was there.

************

When Delenn arrived home, she heard the welcome sounds of deep laughter interspersed with the high-pitched giggles of a ten year old coming from her son's bedroom. She put down her files and folders on the small table inside the doorway, thanked her Ranger escort, and closed the door on her workday, at least for a while. Walking over to the doorway to David's room, she stood unobserved, watching her husband describing a Pak'mara state dinner, complete with imitations of their eating noises and re-telling of jokes centered on food, which the Pak'ma'ra always enjoyed. David was literally rolling on his bed with laughter, and suggesting additions typical of his level of humor. She shook her head; she would never get used to how boisterous humans were. A Minbari child would probably be sitting sedately, working diligently on some project, in their home after a long day. Of course, at David's age, a Minbari would have been sent away to school by now. She herself had been, but her father had followed to stay near to her. They had always been close, at least until the war. He had seemed very pleased at her devotion to her studies. Then again, she had been known to occasionally slip out of her more boring lectures, and head either to the library to study on her own or outside to escape into the gardens. She wondered if her father had ever known that.

Like a warm glow from the setting sun's rays, she felt her husband's gaze on her. David was still chuckling as he righted himself with one fluid motion, and came over and hugged her tightly. Almost able to look her in the eyes; he was going to be as tall as his father. John smiled his crooked grin at the sight, and came around to surround them both in his arms. For a moment, she thought that this was perfect; a moment of perfect happiness. Then, as she accepted a welcoming kiss, she reconsidered. Her life with John and David had been a series of these moments, stretching behind her like links in a chain.

David ended the moment by interjecting, "You're squishing me, Dad!" Disentangling himself, he headed for the living room, asking over his shoulder, "Is it time to go yet?"

"Go where?" Delenn asked, pulling her husband back towards her as he began to move away, "You may continue to 'squish' me! Where is he going?"

John draped one arm over his wife's shoulder and walked with her towards the living area, following the noise made by David, as he volubly let everyone in earshot know he was looking for something. "He sounds like three boys, doesn't he? Too bad he didn't come with a volume control." He laughed at the patient expression on Delenn's face, "Heard that one before, huh? He's going over to the Ranger Academy mess for dinner. Adrian will be by to pick him up shortly; I called him earlier."

"But why?...Oh, yes, Lyta and Susan will be here soon," replied Delenn.

"Didn't think we needed an underage audience for that discussion. Besides, he loves going over there," said John.

"They spoil him," said Delenn disapprovingly. "They treat him like a young cadet. It is inappropriate, and he will grow to expect special treatment."

"He will not. He gets plenty of discipline at home, and they treat him like himself. It can be somewhat isolating here."

Delenn looked thoughtful for a moment, then asked, "Do you think I am too strict with him then?"

"No way! Any child who is as loved as he is can survive a little discipline. He needs it; he's a lot like me at that age. Didn't hurt me any. It helps a child to know the rules. We're not his friends, we're his parents."

Delenn absently considered her husband as a child for a moment. He would have been adorable, she was sure. Pulling her attention back to the present, she went on. "He has few friends of his own age. I have been wary of exposing him to general Minbari society. I was afraid he would be looked upon as a freak of nature, or some sort of symbol, rather than as the child he is."

John gave her a swift hug, "He is who he is, and he'll have to deal with that. With you in his corner, he won't lack for support."

"That is true," replied Delenn, with a glint in her eye. "He has a formidable father as well."

John grinned, "That's all right then." The door chimed, and he left his wife to deal with his son, and went to greet Ranger Adrian. After a welter of good-byes, and instructions, and hugs, the Ranger left with his charge excitedly showing him his newest electronic gadget, a handheld holo-display comparing all the latest flyers.

The next chime was dinner being delivered. Delenn had ordered the meal since neither she nor John had time to prepare anything themselves. Next Susan arrived, and she was regaling them with the tale of her near-miss at decapitation that afternoon when the chime sounded one more time. They all reacted differently, knowing it was Lyta at the door. Susan was instantly wary, and wondering what she would do if the telepath made some sort of hostile move. She'd come armed, which was not her usual practice at the Sheridans' dinner parties, but better safe than sorry.

Delenn was calm and expectant; partly happy at this unexpected reunion with someone from the old days on the station, partly apprehensive about what Lyta wanted from them. She counted Lyta as a friend, if not always an ally; and had no qualms about hearing her request.

John was uncertain how he felt; angry at the situation Marthenn had revealed to him that morning, as well as suspicious of Lyta's motives in coming to Minbar and what favor she planned to ask of them. Underlying those emotions were others he was reluctant to examine: fear, and guilt. Every run-in he'd ever had with a telepath had ended badly; from his debriefing at the hands of Psi Corp after the Black Star's destruction to the horrifying end of Byron's group. Just thinking about Psi Corps' involvement in the death of Talia Winters and the mind-rape of Michael Garibaldi made him clench his fists and look for something to punch. Lyta had once been an ally, but her allegiance became suspect after her actions at Z'ha'dum, and especially after her backing of the sporadic acts of terrorism following Byron's death. Those acts had slowed, but never completely stopped, in the intervening years. He didn't trust telepaths; he worked with them, used them when necessary, understood their grievances; but he didn't trust them. There was also her association with the Vorlons. He'd liked Kosh, never understood him, but liked him. Lyta had been changed by the Vorlons, though, and continued to work for them after Kosh's death. They'd left her incredibly powerful, and to his mind, also unstable and dangerous. His eyes narrowed as he watched his wife greet the telepath affectionately, and escort her into the room.

Lyta was glad to hear that it had already been decided to postpone the discussion until after the meal. She was gratified at the effort the others made to keep the conversation light, and restrain their obvious curiosity, and in the case of John and Susan, barely concealed apprehension. Susan engaged her with tales of her time spent exploring the Rim, and they discovered they had visited a few of the same places. Try as they might, they couldn't find one place they'd been at the same time, but it made somewhat of a bond between them. The telepath had tried to curtail her expanded abilities, which made casual scanning simple and undetectable, as a courtesy to her hosts. Still, it was impossible to miss, just with her normal sensitivities, the marks of pain and stress on John's face, and the frequent worried glances Delenn shot at him when he wasn't looking. She even caught an exchange of anxious looks between Delenn and Susan when John got up and left the room briefly, rubbing his temples with both hands. Shortly after his return, they retired to the living room, and gathered around the low table laden with tea, coffee, and the usual accompaniments. Delenn joined John on the couch, while Susan sat opposite them on the other one. That left Lyta to take the large chair at one end of the table. Feeling like she was being examined in court, Lyta cautiously took her seat. After serving herself with coffee, and wondering where the Sheridans got their supply of the rare delicacy, she began.

"I did a lot of thinking, while G'Kar and I were out there; thinking about what we are; what I am. I'm a telepath--that's the salient characteristic most people see when they look at me. I think it defines me in a more basic way than sex, or race, or homeworld…" She paused and glanced over at Susan, wondering how she was taking this, considering what she knew of the other woman's history. Susan looked unimpressed. "I've traveled all over, talking to telepaths from a hundred worlds, telling them how they came to be, listening to their stories. There are worlds where telepaths are treated far worse than they are in Psi Corps, believe it or not. Mostly we're controlled, often from a young age. Sometimes we're isolated from the non-gifted; where we're trained in using or suppressing our talents. Other times we're left to our own devices. Sometimes untrained telepaths are fine; sometimes they go mad or lose themselves in psychosis, unable to block the thoughts surrounding them. We're treated with drugs, behavior modification, avoidance therapy, physical punishment, even death. The more benign societies, like the Minbari," she nodded towards Delenn, "view telepathy as a gift to be offered in service to the greater good. This can be limiting for individuals, but for a highly structured culture, telepaths here are allowed a great deal of freedom."

Susan was shifting on her seat impatiently, "Cut out the lecture, Lyta. We know most of this. What is it you want from the Alliance?"

Delenn looked at Susan disapprovingly, "Let our guest tell her story in her own way." Turning to Lyta, she added, "What did G'Kar think of all this? He was always interested in developing Narn telepaths."

Lyta smiled enigmatically, "He's on his way to that goal, I believe. He has also agreed to help me with my goal."

"And what is that?" asked John, his voice a little gruff. It was obvious to the others that he still wasn't feeling well.

Lyta hesitated for a moment; it was crucial that they understand, and if not approve, at least not interfere, with her plans. "G'Kar has consented to give us an abandoned Narn colony world…we plan to use it to establish a homeworld for telepaths of all races. There are people there already, working on getting the main base habitable. More arrive every day."

Silence fell over the room. John and Delenn both remembered that this had been Byron's dream. They also remembered how that tragic episode had ended, and PsiCorps' involvement.

Susan spoke forcefully, her voice laden with sarcasm. "Sounds great. What do you want from us?"

"I am going to present my invitation to the telepaths of Earth in person. I plan to make the announcement at the Psi Corps headquarters on Mars. What I want from you, is your pledge to not get involved in whatever happens." Lyta remained outwardly calm, but she wished Delenn would say something. She'd expected more sympathy from her.

"Why Mars? Why not Earth?" Susan went on, openly incredulous. "They'll kill you, you know that. You won't get to say a word!"

"I have my resources. The PsiCorp complex on Earth is in Geneva. It's more heavily guarded; harder to even get close. Besides, I know the one on Mars pretty well from my time in the Resistance. I'll be able to get my message across."

Delenn said slowly, "Why do you think we would be involved in any case? An invitation to emigration sounds harmless enough. PsiCorps' influence has been weakened over the years; they will protest, but they may stop at that."

"And they may not." Lyta went on, her voice trembling with the force of her emotions. "I want you to look at this as an exercise in self-determination. We want to a home of our own; to be left alone to make our own rules, and laws. I just want to make sure Earth won't call on the Alliance to enforce what amounts to brainwashing and coercion and essentially slavery!" Her voice had risen with her passionate appeal.

"The Alliance is already pledged to non-interference in members' internal disputes, Lyta. I don't see why you feel you need more assurances that we will not get involved," said John firmly. He wished they could stop this discussion. His head was pounding, and he just wanted to get to sleep.

"Telepaths generate concern and fear, President Sheridan. I wanted to be sure, and I'll admit, I would also like your support. I don't see this as being any different from your support for Martian independence."

"Mars was a long-established colony, and a majority of its people had indicated their preference for self-government. It's not the same!" expostulated John.

Delenn intervened, "It is not so very different, though, is it? The Earth telepaths have never had many choices available to them, and I gather from what Lyta is saying, the situation is similar on other worlds. If they wish to leave, should they be prevented?"

"We can't assist them…Earth is an Alliance member!" protested John.

"We can indicate our support, without promising anything more than that. Let us see what the response is, from PsiCorps, and the Earth government. If it is negative, we can issue a supportive statement, perhaps guarantee them safe passage through Minbari space. I think I can arrange that much with the Grey Council," answered Delenn.

"That would be wonderful, Delenn. Thank you." Lyta smiled warmly at her hostess, then continued. "I've been working towards this for years. I just wanted you all to know what was happening. The Alliance has been a vocal advocate of freedom all these years…"

"And of peace," Delenn added gently.

"And peace, of course," Lyta agreed quickly. "I hope this will happen peacefully, but I have my doubts that PsiCorps will like loosing their grip on what they consider their 'family'." She smiled, grimly this time. "It's a perverse vision of family, in my opinion. I'm not trying to force anyone to do anything, just give my people some options. I want to let them know that they have somewhere to go. What is it they say? 'Home is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in?'"

Susan nodded reluctantly, "It gives them choices, I guess. But you'd be better off nuking Psi Corps and starting over."

Lyta's eyes flashed momentarily, then she said smoothly, "If the place wasn't full of telepaths, most of them there unwittingly or unwillingly, I'd agree with you."

Looking uncomfortable at this turn in the conversation, and deeply aware that John was barely holding it together, Delenn said, "We will leave it at that, then. Lyta, could you meet us here, tomorrow morning? I have arranged transportation to the facility where Marthenn's father is housed. I do not want to lose any time getting help to these people; they do not deserve abandonment."

"Of course," Lyta murmured. She then turned to Susan, and asked curiously, "What is your opinion of all this? As a telepath, I mean?"

Looking at her with barely concealed disdain, Susan answered, "I'm not part of your movement, Lyta. I have zero interest in helping telepaths."

Lyta tried to look sympathetic, but was visibly disturbed, "We have more in common than you would think…"

Susan interrupted fiercely, "We have nothing in common! For what it's worth, I think you'll fail. Part of me hopes you do, except for the part about gutting PsiCorps. You're welcome to try and pull together your little band of teeps, but family's more than a shared quirk of the brain."

Leaning forward and looking hard at Susan, Lyta snapped, "You've stayed hidden and escaped most of it, haven't you? You were never stared at in fear, or disliked on principle, never torn from your family and sent away…"

White-faced with anger, Susan abruptly stood. "My family was ripped apart by PsiCorps! My mother…and Talia…" Her voice thick with tears and rage, she hurriedly said her good-byes and headed towards the door.

Delenn followed, and stopped her just before she left, "Do not blame Lyta, Susan. She is a victim as well."

"She's working on being a bloody martyr," Susan said bitterly. "Just be careful not to get the Alliance too involved in this hare-brained scheme of hers. It won't work, and it won't end well. I'll see you when you get back." Hastily brushing away her tears, she strode off down the corridor.

************

Susan was too unsettled by the confrontation with Lyta to either settle to work or to go home to her empty quarters, so she wandered the corridors for a while. She noted that she was greeted with caution mixed with awe, and decided Lyta didn't know the half of being stared at by the public! Deciding some air would be good, she headed out the side door that led to the labyrinth. It was cold and dark, but the sky was filled with stars. Looking upwards, she wondered when she would be able to get back out there, in a ship of her own. To avoid being stuck behind a desk in Geneva, she'd gone to being stuck behind a desk in Tuzanoor. Kicking a few stones from the path into the lush trim grass border, she thought it might have been a case of out of the frying pan into the fire. Then she knelt down and picked up the stones, replacing them on the path. It was probably some worker's task to go along and pick up errant stones and put them in their proper place. She wouldn't add to their work. The labyrinth was ahead of her, but to her surprise, she saw that someone was already seated in the center. It was a little cold and late for tourists, and she could see by the flickering lamps on the four corners outlining the pathways, that the stranger wore a Ranger's robes.

Hesitating for a moment, she let her curiosity set her path, and walked across the circular lines to the center. As she approached, she recognized the woman from the afternoon's training.

"Callahan, isn't it?" Her voice sounded a little loud in the stillness.

Maeve jumped, then stood hastily to attention when she saw who it was. "Anla'Shok Na? I mean, yes, my name's Callahan."

"Go ahead, sit down. I just wondered who would be walking the labyrinth this time of night."

Maeve sat back down, and Susan joined her. "I like this place." When Susan stayed silent, she asked challengingly, "Were you coming to walk it yourself then?"

Susan gave Maeve her best intimidating glare, and was secretly pleased to see the woman just jutted her chin out a little and returned her look steadily. "I was going to, but I thought I'd cut to the center…maybe gain clarity a little more quickly."

"It doesn't work that way, does it? I mean, it never does for me. Even the walking doesn't always do it."

"So, if it's not too personal, what are you trying to figure out?"

Maeve sighed, and said, "I guess it's appropriate to tell you. I'm deciding whether to leave the Rangers. I'm not sure it's for me."

Shifting on the cold stone bench, Susan said, "Well, that makes two of us."

Maeve looked at her in shock. "But you're Anla'Shok Na! I mean, why would you want to give it up?"

Susan laughed, "I'm not sure I do! It's difficult, and I miss flying, but it's important work, and my family is all here." She wondered why she was unburdening herself to this woman she'd just met, but hurried on, "Sometimes it seems like an impossible task, leading this group. I don't even understand their motivations. It's sure not standard military."

Maeve snorted, "That's a fact. It's what attracted me here though. I never managed to fit into EarthForce. Too independent, I suppose--or too bloody-minded."

Susan laughed, "So why'd you join up? No one held a gun to your head, did they?"

"No, they held a gun to my brother's head, actually." Maeve looked away, her expression grim. "I'm from Orion, you know. I joined up in 2260, just after we broke away from Earth."

"That must have been rough. It was difficult on the station, but after Mars, there wasn't much else we could do."

"It was the part before that was difficult." Maeve shuddered. "I was at the university when all the directives came down. Nightwatch, the Home Guard, we had them all. Ed, that was my brother Edward, he was two years ahead of me in school--he started a protest group, led marches, hung posters, spoke at rallies, that sort of thing. I told him he was crazy; that it would all blow over."

"What happened?" Susan was fascinated. On the station, they'd heard little or nothing about what went on in the colonies.

"They killed him. Oh, they said he resisted arrest, that it was all legal and aboveboard. But I knew Ed; he was the original pacifist. He'd have done the passive resistance thing, going limp, stuff like that. Nothing aggressive, nothing to deserve being shot. It was at one of his rallies. His friends said some Nightwatch goons drug him off, stuffed him in a ground flyer. We never saw him again. Just an official notice on the com. They wouldn't even let us have his body to bury."

"I'm sorry." Susan sat silent for a moment, considering the different ways there were to fight a war. "When did you join EarthForce?"

"The day after Orion declared independence. My parents were horrified. Ed and I were their only kids. Orion is a sub-optimal colony, so colonists are restricted to replacement breeding. Two parents means two kids, and they'd already lost one."

"I was stationed there for a while after the Earth-Minbari war. Nice place."

"It's okay. Anyway, I was apparently never meant for the military. I'd work my way up, one stripe at a time, then get myself busted." She added ruefully, "That takes some doing in wartime, too."

"What happened?"

"I left after about ten years. Seemed like I'd given it a good shot. The war was long over by then. I wandered around for a while, taking in the sights. Then I got the urge to do something with my life, and ended up here."

Susan sighed, "It's a strange group. How did you find the training? You're second year now aren't you? Almost ready to take your vows?"

Maeve nodded. "That's the problem. It's time, and I'm still not sure. The Rangers aren't like any military I've ever heard of; mostly I like it, it's less structured and a better fit for me. But some aspects…"

"Like what?" Susan asked curiously.

Maeve looked down at the stones and said nothing for a moment.

"This stays between me and you. I have my doubts, as I've told you, and I'd appreciate another viewpoint."

Taking a deep breath, Maeve nodded, then continued, "Well, the Rangers are non-interventionist, right? We're trained to observe, gather intelligence, and at times to mediate. That's okay, but the quasi-religious aspects bug me. I suppose meditation is a useful skill, and they're whizzes at unarmed combat…but really, denn'boks? Traditional weaponry, I suppose, but not really very useful, are they? All the history and the Book of Valen, and having to learn Minbari…it's weird."

Susan smiled, but answered slowly, "They've adapted over the years though. John and Delenn have worked hard at the transformation to a peace-keeping mission…"

Maeve broke in, "That's another thing! There's a not-too subtle veneration of Entil'zha and the President, and even of you! I've worked with military types who admired one admiral or another, but not like this! It's a little scary, frankly. They prize independence of thought and personal initiative, which is great, but then they go all worshipful. 'I live for the One, I die for the One.' I'm supposed to recite that when I take my vows. It's not just graduation from basic training, is it? We took oaths in EarthForce, but that was to uphold the Constitution."

Susan said thoughtfully, "You've put your finger on one thing that's been bothering me. The Rangers have been around for over a thousand years, built around a cult of personality. They study Valen; they live for 'the One'. They've built up a lot of traditions…" She added after a moment, "But they've also proven adaptable. Maybe that's their strength; the combination of the old ways and the ability to accept new ones."

Maeve stared straight ahead. "I just wish I could be sure I'm doing the right thing."

"It's not like you're marrying into the Rangers, Callahan! If it doesn't work out, you can always leave."

"It's not that easy. I can't explain it. I left EarthForce without a backwards glance, but these vows mean something. I can't take them lightly, and it would be harder to break them." Maeve's face was solemn in the flicker of the torches.

Susan thought uncomfortably of Lennier's departure from the Rangers. His betrayal of his vows had almost broken him, and he was still trying to make amends for what he'd done. He'd never asked to re-join the Anla'Shok. "Then you'd best be sure before you take your vows. I can say, though, that I hope you do."

"Thank you, Anla'Shok Na." She looked at her superior questioningly, "How about you? Are you staying?"

Susan smiled, albeit a little sadly, "Yes. I'm staying. The vows I've made were to myself, but those are the most important ones of all, and the worst ones to break. I'll be here to take your pledge, if you decide to make it." Susan stood up, and crossed her arms across her chest. "Nee'zhalen, Callahan. Good night." Then she turned and headed back towards the Academy, and her home.

************

The next morning a Ranger arrived at Marthenn's quarters in her clan-house in the city, and escorted her to Alliance headquarters, where three more Rangers, John, Delenn, and Lyta awaited her. They sat in the center seats of the ground flyer, with two Rangers as pilot and co-pilot, and two more in the rear as guards. Marthenn overcame some of her shyness under Delenn's gentle questioning and obvious sympathy.

Lyta watched in amusement; she remembered how the Minbari ambassador had always gotten her way as much with honey as with flies. John sat quietly, hands on his knees, watching out the window as the ground sped by under them. Lyta kept an eye on him as well, wondering how much of his physical difficulty came from psychic sources, and whether she would be able to help him. No one had asked her to, of course, and she was of two minds about offering her assistance. She had never quite forgiven him his part in Byron's death, although she was willing to admit he had begun with good intentions. Also, there was his part in driving her from the station, although, as it turned out, that had been a godsend for her cause. Her journey with G'Kar had not been simply geographical, but spiritual and emotional as well. She had learned much from the Narn, and gained his tentative support for her cause. What she hadn't told the Sheridans was that G'Kar's support was somewhat predicated on their approval, or at least, their pledge of non-interference. He would be checking in with them later, but she hoped her plans would be too far advanced for second thoughts by then.

The facility where Marthenn's father and the other telepaths were housed was only a few hours away. They arrived just before noon, and were whisked into a conference room to meet the administrative head and the medical chief of staff. After exchanging pleasantries, Delenn took the lead and insisted, in her charming and indirect way, on going directly to the ward where Marthenn's father was housed. The dormitory was almost empty; as most of the patients were enjoying the grounds on an unusually warm day, but there were a few patients left. As the group passed by, each patient's head turned to stare at Lyta, and a few got up to follow her at a discreet distance. Marthenn sped up and walked swiftly towards her father. Rathenn was seated on the edge of the bed, and embraced his daughter as she leaned over him.

"I've brought them, Father. You were right. Entil'zha Sheridan knew who you meant."

Rathenn got slowly to his feet, and bowed low as the group neared him, "You do me much honor." He bowed to each of the three, "Entil'zha Sheridan. Delenn." He turned to Lyta, and said, "Secha, I do not know your name, but we felt your approach. Can you help us? Can you rid us of the shadows?"

Lyta bowed low in return, and replied, "You are of my kind, and I will do my best to help you." She looked at him with compassion, and gestured for him to lie back down on the bed. Sitting beside him, she laid her hands on either side of his head, fingers on the headbone, and thumbs on the skin above each temple, she closed her eyes and reached inside his mind.

It was dark, but she could clearly hear the rush of falling water nearby. Groping blindly forward, she stumbled, and fell. The ground was wet and slick, and reaching forward her hands slipped into cool flowing water. Now that her 'eyes' had adjusted, she could see dimly that she was kneeling by a streambed. The sound came from a waterfall. Seated further downstream, on a flat grey rock, was Rathenn. Lyta stood, and approached him quietly, trying not to alarm him.

"Greetings," said the old man. His lips didn't move. They didn't have to; his voice was all around her and inside her at the same time.

She came closer, and put one hand on his shoulder. "So this is the problem?" She pointed downstream to a point where the stream disappeared into black thicket of vines and brambles.

"When I follow the path, it leads into shadow. I cannot go around it; I cannot seem to avoid it. When I go there, there is pain and memory and darkness, and I am lost."

Lyta stared at the obstruction, and noted the scenery around the place, so she could locate it again. She walked towards the darkened area, and heard skittering sounds in the underbrush, then faint echoes of metallic screams. She smiled grimly; she knew the sounds. Pushing her way through the undergrowth, she saw that the stream had other paths it could follow if only the blockage was removed. Nodding approvingly, she back-tracked to where Rathenn was again staring into the stream.

"You need to go back, and let me try to fix this." She said gently.

He looked apprehensive, and asked her, "Will it work?"

"It might not." She looked at him sadly, "It might have other effects. You might lose some memories."

"Of that time? Or of all time?"

"I don't know."

He considered for a moment. "I will take the risk. For my daughter, and for the others."

Lyta squeezed his hand. The old man rose, and walked towards the waterfall, gradually disappearing in the mist that arose from the cascade and spilled over the banks.

Lyta bent to her task.

The others watched for a while, but there was really nothing to see. John wandered off to talk to some of the other patients, and listened to their war stories, and told some of his own, although only when pressed. Delenn sat with Marthenn for a while, then approached the medical staff, gathering details of the numbers of patients, and facilities, and what treatments had already been tried. She turned around when she heard a cry from Marthenn, and saw Lyta slumping over onto the floor. She started towards the fallen telepath, when she was distracted by cries of alarm from behind her. John had collapsed as well.

A caregiver assisted Marthenn in laying Lyta down on a nearby empty bed. Marthenn hurried back to her father, who was stirring. Lyta sat up, with the nurse's assistance, and looked over at Rathenn. "How is he?" she asked the nurse.

The caregiver looked flustered, "Which one? The patient or Entil'zha Sheridan?"

Lyta's head snapped around to see healers, caregivers, and patients, all milling around a prostrate John Sheridan. As she watched, they lifted him from the floor to a bed, and Delenn sat down beside him, softly repeating his name, trying to call him back.

"Secha?" The question came from Rathenn, who was sitting on the edge of his bed. "You should go to him, Secha."

"How are you feeling?" Lyta said as she stood and came over to take Rathenn's hand.

"My head hurts. What did you do? How will we tell if it worked? I feel different somehow, lighter in some way."

"If there were circumstances that triggered your episodes, we can replicate them, and see if the new pathways have taken hold. I will show you how to guide your thoughts away from the old paths, and onto the new. First, though…" and she looked over at Delenn, who hadn't taken her eyes off of John, "I have to see what's happening; and whether I can help."

Delenn was outwardly calm and unconcerned, patiently reassuring the clinic staff and patients, but panic flared in her inmost thoughts. She had known for months, maybe a year or more, that there was something wrong. It had gotten progressively worse, until she managed to convince him to see the healers. They had found nothing wrong. She hoped and prayed that it wasn't a manifestation of an early failure of Lorien's gift. As she continued calling her unconscious husband, and at the same time trying to listen to the advice the healers were offering, she felt a light touch on her shoulder.

"Would you like me to help?" asked Lyta.

Biting back her initial eager assent, Delenn tried to focus on what John would think of her giving Lyta permission to enter his mind.

"I won't go in, Delenn, unless you want me to. I can just amplify your call; the way I did at Z'ha'dum."

The tenor of the room changed in an instant, with the Minbari around them looking startled, then either pulling away or looking grim.

Delenn looked down at John's weary face, and decided for once, to base a decision solely on what she wanted; and what she wanted was her husband. "Go ahead then."

Lyta nodded, and approached the bed, sitting on the opposite side from Delenn. "I'll try not to pry, but you know strong emotions and thoughts may get through. I can't help that."

"I know."

Taking Delenn's hand, Lyta made the connection with her first. The two women stared at each other in silent communion, and then Lyta placed her other hand on John's temple.

"Speak to him."

Delenn heard Lyta's disembodied voice echo in her mind. "John? Come back to me. It is not yet your time. We need you here. I need you."

Lyta pushed Delenn's voice deep into John's consciousness. Unhappily, she wasn't feeling any response, not even a spark of mental energy from the prostrate man. Delenn's thought patterns were disciplined, but frayed at the edges with worry and fear. Taking a chance, she added her voice separately. "President Sheridan? You need to wake up. You are upsetting your wife and everyone here." There was still no response. Lyta spoke directly to Delenn through their mental connection. "I can push your voice deeper, but I may see things he would rather I did not."

I can't stand it. Not yet. I'm not ready to lose him! Chaotic fragments of grief and despair leaked out from around Delenn's controlled response. "Go ahead."

Lyta tried to project confidence at Delenn, and went further into John's mind.

"Come out! Where are you?"

Ahead of her in the darkness she saw a spark of light. Walking towards it, she could hear music, tonal chanting so deep and resonant that it seemed she could see the vibrations in the air around her. Going further, she saw John sitting, cross-legged, in his old uniform, eyes closed, apparently listening to the bell-like song. Approaching his quietly, she knelt beside him, and gently touched his arm. "President Sheridan? John?"

He opened his eyes, and put one finger on his lips. "Shhh. They're almost done."

She sat beside him, and waited patiently. Far off in the distance, she could still hear Delenn's pleading voice. When the song's echoes stopped ringing, she spoke again. "Can you hear her calling?"

"Always."

"Are you coming back?"

He hesitated, then said uncertainly. "I'm not sure I know the way."

"I can show you." Rising to her feet, she put out her hand. He looked at it for a moment, then took it and stood beside her.

"John?"

He opened his eyes to see Delenn's face just above his, her green eyes swimming with tears. He reached up to touch her face, and she put her hand over his, pressing it tightly against her, as if trying to anchor him in life.

"I'm all right." Struggling to a sitting position, he saw that Lyta was sitting on his other side, her head in her hands. A healer was kneeling in front of her, offering her a drink. "How about you, Lyta? Are you all right?"

"I will be. What were you listening to in there?"

"Something Kosh showed me, a very long time ago."

Lyta nodded, then grimaced as she swallowed the draught offered by the healer. "What is that awful stuff?" she demanded.

"It is designed to replace the electrolytes and sugars used in psychic metabolism. I adjusted the amounts to human biochemistry, but I did not think to flavor it to your tastes." The healer looked chagrined.

Lyta smiled. "It's not that bad. In fact, I feel better already. I might have to get the recipe!"

Delenn abruptly broke in, "Perhaps you could escort us to a private room. I believe my husband needs to rest. Lyta, would you accompany us?"

John knew that voice. He allowed two Minbari male caretakers to assist him to his feet, and shot Lyta a look of commiseration. She smiled, before looking down, and discreetly followed the group out of the main room.

"What happened to him?" Delenn's voice was quiet, but her tone made it quite clear she wasn't leaving the room without answers, and answers to her satisfaction. "Lyta, what did you see?"

Lyta debated briefly trying to put her off, but she felt the deep anxiety underlying the demand, and answered as best she could. "I think he is having the same type of flashbacks as they others, but they are being repelled."

"How is he able to do that?"

"I'm not doing anything!"

John and Delenn spoke at the same time, and Lyta held up one hand to silence them. "I don't think it's conscious resistance. Delenn, have you had any problems with this?"

"No," she answered firmly.

"You were in mental contact with the Shadows, however, weren't you?"

"Yes. Yes, I suppose I was. At Z'ha'dum, with you and Susan, and at Corianus Six. I am not a telepath, however, and neither is John."

John interrupted, "Lorien was with us at Corianus Six. I suppose he acted as a buffer of sorts."

Lyta went on, "I'm sure he did, and that it was needed. Even though you are not telepaths, you were in direct mental contact with both the Shadows and the Vorlons. Kosh gave you both some protection, as he did me. Delenn and I were with him more, though. I think he must have started setting it up with you, and perhaps Lorien finished it. What I can't figure out is why their efforts are failing you, President Sheridan…and why now."

"Call me John, Lyta. President Sheridan left office some time ago. What is wrong with the Minbari veterans? Were you able to help Marthenn's father?"

"I think so. The damage done by his psychic contact with the Shadows had left a break in his neural pathways. Over time, the equivalent of scar tissue built up, and eventually, whenever his mind went that direction, it hit that barrier and went off into the past, into memories of the war. Memories so real, they entered his waking life. I tried to weaken the barrier, and allow the psychic energy to flow around it. We haven't tested it yet. It may not work, and there may be side effects."

"What kind of side effects?" asked Delenn.

"Memory loss, possibly catastrophic. He was willing to risk it, if it would help the others."

They were all silent for a moment, considering this. Delenn said thoughtfully, "The telepath Ranell…he was in your mind, John, was he not?"

John looked at her and said, "The psychic healers poked around afterwards. They said there was no lasting damage."

Lyta laughed, "It's hard enough to find where Kosh has been, much less distinguish damage to his delicate maneuvering. That's probably it…when did your symptoms start?"

"You mean the headaches? About a year ago…" he confessed shamefacedly.

Delenn glared at him, then her face softened, "So long? You should have told me."

Lyta went doggedly on, "Are there triggers to these headaches? Does something happen…bright lights shining in your eyes, certain sounds, anything in common?"

John shook his head, "Not that I can think of."

"Hmm." She was lost in concentration for a moment. "I'd have to go back in to see what's wrong." She went on hurriedly as his expression darkened. "Only with your permission. You two discuss it. I have to go over what I did with Rathenn with your healers. I want to see if it worked with him before I try it again." She hesitated, then went on, "It's possible there would be memory loss in your case as well. I can't guarantee anything. This is virgin territory for me." She tried not to flinch at the look in Delenn's eyes as she closed the door behind her.

Delenn went over to John and put her arms around him. "I would rather you forget me than spend what is left of your life in pain." Her eyes darkened. "It might even shorten your lifespan. Please, John, you must let her try."

He rested his head on top of hers, holding her tight against his chest. "I could never forget you. That just isn't possible. I'm not sure I want her inside my head. I'm not sure she can be trusted."

"I believe she can." Delenn pulled away from him, looking at him consideringly. "Why do you believe she cannot be trusted?"

John ran his fingers through his hair, and sat down in one of the chairs surrounding a table. They had apparently been led to a nearby conference room. "I've not had much luck with telepaths in the past."

"Telepaths in general, or PsiCorps in particular?"

"Mostly PsiCorps, I suppose. But there was Byron and his group, and Lyta herself…"

"Byron was, in his own way, a true seeker, a peaceful man forced to do violence to himself and his followers. Lyta…well, we have no way of knowing whether her actions at Z'ha'dum were leftover dictates of the Vorlons, or her own inclinations. She disliked PsiCorp as much or more than you do."

"That's certainly true." John stood up again and began to pace around the room. "What about the terrorist, the bombs, the attacks after Byron's death?"

"I do not approve of those, but they were mostly against property, and mostly property linked to or owned by PsiCorps, were they not?" Delenn put out a hand as he walked, and pulled him close. "Consider this. She has known for years about Susan, and her telepathy. Has she ever tried to capitalize on that knowledge? She could have traded the information for power, influence. Susan is beyond PsiCorps' reach now, but she spent years in EarthForce, where the knowledge would have been detrimental at best. Yet, Lyta did nothing."

John stared at her for a moment. "EarthForce never had much use for PsiCorps. The military utilized them only when necessary. They still use them, but with more caution after the war. PsiCorps lost a lot of influence when it was revealed how much they had worked with Clark."

"Still, would Susan have risen as far as she did if her telepathy was known? Lyta was right about the Shadow technology left behind at Z'ha'dum; it would never have been safe with PsiCorps, or with the Earth government. She acted hastily, but in the right way."

John suddenly smiled. "OK, so you trust her, I get that." His smile faded as he held her close. "I have to admit, letting her in scares me, and even more the possibility that something could go wrong. She admitted she's not even sure what she's doing; what if it doesn't work? Or it makes things worse?"

"What if you get worse without her intervention? What if.." Her voice choked off as she clung to him even harder than before.

"All right. I'll try." He leaned away from her fierce embrace, and said, "It's on your head if I forget everything I ever knew and you have to do my job as well as yours."

"I accept the risk." She squeezed his hand tightly, then went to the door, opened it, and asked the first person she saw passing to request Lyta's presence when convenient.

When Lyta entered the room, the two Sheridans were seated across the table, talking softly to each other. Their heads turned in unison as she entered the room, and she thought she had never seen two people so in tune. Even when they were apart, they somehow seemed a unit.

"Are you ready?" she asked John. "I will try to avoid sensitive areas and stick to where ever I see damage or blockages. It will help if you shield yourself as much as you are able."

"I'm not a telepath, Lyta. I can't block you."

Amused, she said, "Sure you can. Remember back on the station when you and Captain Lochley had me arrested? You snuck up on me. You shouldn't have been able to do that, even when I was distracted."

"I've never been sure how I did do that! I just knew I could…somehow," he answered, with a question in his voice.

"I'll explain it to you later. Let's get this done." Lyta pulled out a chair, and set it in front of John's. She sat down, facing him, and took both his large hands in her slender ones.

John was walking through a forest of tall trees. Leaves crunched under his feet, and he caught sight of what might have been a squirrel flicking its tail as it dashed behind a tree to his left. The leaves were orange, red, and brown, and lay on the ground like a patchwork quilt among the damp black tree trunks. He looked up, but there was no sky, just the trees jutting into infinity, seeming to come together over his head.

"Hello there."

He started and saw Lyta was standing in front of him.

"What is this place?"

"It's my 'mental landscape', for lack of a better term. We all have landscapes inside our heads that are composites of the places we feel most at home. Telepaths learn to access them, and utilize them. I've often wondered if Minbari go inside when they meditate. Have you ever asked Delenn what she sees?"

He shook his head. "This is your landscape? Are we in your mind then?"

"Yes. I thought we could start here, then see what's inside you. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable before we tried it. There are probably some of Kosh's barriers left…"

"What barriers?"

Lyta smiled. "The Vorlons changed me, in many ways. They also changed you, as well as Delenn. In my case, it was to allow me to carry them without going insane. The process also increased my abilities, and made it possible for me to more easily access the minds of alien beings. They erected some protective barriers as well. That's how you could sneak up on me in the Zocalo before. I didn't recognize you as foreign until you got close enough to put a gun to my head."

"So something's gone wrong?"

Lyta mused, "They needed to be able to communicate with us, project images into our minds, but they also wanted us to have some protection against the Shadows; so maybe the blocks were incomplete, or maybe yours are broken. Now let's see what's going on."

It was dark, but the sky was the pearly grey it gets just before sunrise. Taking a deep breath, John could smell orange blossoms on the light breeze that blew across his face.

"Where are we?" Lyta's voice was faint, but growing stronger, as if she was approaching from a distance. He peered through the lines of trees, extending as far as he could see in all directions, when he suddenly felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Where did you come from?"

"I've always been here."

Echoes of Kosh colored her voice, and John stepped back. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Everything. Where does it hurt?"

He look at her uncomprehendingly. "What do you mean?"

"We're looking for evidence of damage, right? Where the Minbari telepath got in?"

He looked around the orchard and pointed off to the right. "There's a break in the trees over there."

Without moving, they were in front of the break. Trees had fallen, and burnt and hewn stumps showed evidence of some problem. Lyta knelt and touched the downed branches, then looked up. "This is the remains of a psychic battle of some kind. Maybe Kosh left you more protection than I thought."

They walked forward, and saw that some of the trees had lost their leaves, and others had leaves with small raised brown spots. "Citrus canker," said John, looking closely at the leaves.

"Maybe that's how the Shadow damage is manifesting itself?" Lyta looked around her, confused. "Rathenn's problem was a diverting of mental energy. When his memory of the war was triggered by a shadow, or a sound, his mind would head down one path, and be trapped in memories indistinguishable from reality. You experienced pain instead." She went on, frustrated, "This doesn't make sense. Maybe in your case your mind is fighting back, and the pain is the manifestation of the inner struggle."

"So what do we do to stop it?"

"How do you fight the disease that's spotting the leaves? What's the cure?"

"There's a nano-vaccine now. There's hasn't been an outbreak in years."

"Before the vaccine, how did they treat it?"

John looked around him, and answered slowly, "They burned it out; cut down all the infected trees and burned them to stop it spreading."

Kicking the blackened branches on the ground, Lyta commented, "I guess that's how you're being protected."

"What should we do? Finish the job? Wait for whatever Kosh put in here to do it? I can't go on like this! I don't have that long…" he broke off, and walked away for a moment, resting his hand on one of the infected trees. "How is this connected with the attack two years ago?"

"I don't know. Maybe the defense system was damaged?"

"What can we do?"

"We'll have to go deeper, and find where the defenses originate. Relax, I'm going to look around."

The staff at the clinic were hovering outside the door. It had been over two hours, and they didn't know whether to interrupt what was going on inside. They didn't even know what was going on inside. One of the caretakers finally took courage and gently rapped at the wooden door. It was opened a crack by Delenn herself. She said, "Do not interrupt again. I will let you know when assistance is required." The door shut with a soft click.

John was standing in a comfortable room, with two windows flanking a stone fireplace. The blue light bars on either size were emitting a cool light which harmonized with the painting above them. As he blinked and studied the worn overstuffed chairs and the wall shelf crammed with books, he realized he was home, in his family's farmhouse. He heard a sound and whirled around, half expecting to see his father standing there.

"Where is this?" Lyta asked, trying to ignore the flare of hopeful expectation and subsequent disappointment in John's eyes when he saw it was her.

"My family's home, back on Earth. Kosh appeared to me here once, just before he died."

"This is it then, your emotional center. It's often a place from your childhood, someplace with great resonance and meaning to you. What's that over there?" She pointed towards the wall opposite the bookshelf. The window was cracked across two panes, and there were stone fragments on the floor. Sunshine shone through the chinks in the wall. She crossed the room, and placed her hand on one of the holes. John cried out in pain.

At the sound of her husband's cry, Delenn stood, and placing her hands on either side of his head, prayed for his pain to subside. Her impassioned words echoed inside his mind.

Lyta jerked her hand away at his cry, then heard all around her, an invocation in Delenn's soft voice. Turning, she saw John visibly relax as the pain apparently subsided, and wondered again at the connection between the two of them. "We need to fix this wall, I think. This must be the damage the Minbari telepath did to your mind, trying to get past your defenses. Maybe that will be enough." Carefully keeping her own thoughts walled away, she allowed herself to wonder what was happening in the orchard. It seemed unconnected to this obvious damage, but appeared to be serious. There had been an aura there, a hint of a presence that was not Kosh. It felt like Kosh, but was older, more powerful. Returning her mind to her task, she wished she had more training in psychic healing. The basics had been drilled into her at PsiCorps but, the basics had included ways to hurt and harm, as well as ways to heal. She shuddered at the memory.

Going outside the house, she showed John how to pick up the stones and hold them against the wall. She focused her mental energy and thought them into place. Then she showed him how to repair the window glass by picturing it whole and overlaying that picture on the scene until it was the only one they could see.

"How does that work?" asked John. The whole procedure had been fascinating to him.

"The truth is sometimes what you believe it to be and other times what you decide it to be."

John's head whipped around he stared at Lyta. He'd heard that phrase before, and not in pleasant circumstances, from a man he knew only as his interrogator. Trying to hide his consternation, he asked if they were done.

"Only one way to find out. Let's go back and see if it worked."

"What if I need to find my way back here? Can I do this myself?"

Lyta thought for a moment. "Yes, I think so, and I think I can show you how to find your way. We'll need a trigger, a scent or sound or phrase, which you can use as a guide. It's similar to the way the candle flame is used as a focus in Minbari meditation. That's an external focus; we need something internal."

"Since this is Kosh's place, let's use the monks' song you heard before. It always reminds me of Kosh anyway."

"All right. Think the song, and I'll bind it to this place in your mind."

"Will I still remember the circumstances in which I originally heard it?"

"I think so. The combination of picturing the house, and remembering the sounds, at the same time, should bring you here. The separate memories should remain intact as well, but as I told you, there are no guarantees." They were now back inside the room. The walls and window panes were intact.

"All right. Go ahead."

The melodious chant filled the air around them, and Lyta walked the perimeter of the room, touching a corner here, a floorboard there, outlining the fireplace with her hands.

"That should do it. Now, we need a trigger to take you back out."

"That's easy." John smiled crookedly. "We'll use the sound of falling rain."

"Ok then." Lyta wondered what significance that sound had to him. He looked happier that he had since she'd arrived. She linked to him mentally, and started the journey back, with the sound of gently falling rain echoing all around them.

"John? Lyta, is he going to wake up? What did you do to him?"

Delenn's voice was rising, reflecting her increasing anxiety as Lyta sipped a cup of tea, and answered, "I don't know. He's processing what happened inside. He'll wake up when he's ready."

"It has been an hour. Are you sure he's all right?"

Patiently, Lyta reiterated, "I can't be sure, but I think so." Glancing over at John, whose head lay cradled on his crossed arms on the table, she said, "I think he's starting to stir at last."

Delenn put her arms around her husband's shoulders, laid her head close to his, and whispered, "John? Are you awake? Can you speak?"

Turning his head to look into her eyes, he said, "I am now." Sitting up straight, his hand went to his forehead. "I thought I would have the mother of all headaches after that; but the pain is gone." He looked at Lyta, and said simply, "Thank you."

She smiled demurely, and muttered, "You're welcome." Rising to her feet, she said, "I need to check on Rathenn. Let me know when it's time to leave." As she left the room, she thought that she had gotten everything she wanted from this visit, and more.

The following day, Lyta Alexander stood at the viewing port of the short-range ship taking her into orbit. The liner heading for Earth was above her, seemingly growing larger as they approached. She thought back to what Delenn had said as she said good-bye: "We, all of us, owe you a debt that can never be repaid."

Lyta smiled, a tight predatory smile. Debts can always be repaid. Only sometimes the price is much, much more than you imagined.