Title: Valen's Return

Author: Julie the Tall Terror

Summary: The galaxy learns that some Humans are Immortal. While greedy aliens are after the secret to immortality, the Minbari and Watchers search for a particular Immortal, Valen. Babylon 5/Highlander crossover.

Setting: 2264. The new Interstellar Alliance is still very shaky.

Babylon 5 characters: Valen (Sinclair), Delenn, Catherine, Sheridan, Garibaldi, possibly more.

Highlander the Series characters: Methos, the Watcher organization, possibly more.

You do NOT need to know anything about Highlander: the Series to understand this story and if you do, you'll just enjoy the familiar characters.

Big thanks to John Hightower for creating the Minbari Dictionary at Jumpnow.de and my beta reader Marianne Todd.

Chapter 4

Neither Here Nor There

"It is then tradition for the guest to set aside one piece of flarn

in the memory of Valen in the place that is set aside for his return."

-- Delenn, Babylon 5: "Confessions and Lamentations"

- o0o -

Babylon 5

Valen couldn't help but still think of Babylon 5 as his station, though it'd changed hands twice since he'd left the post. Time hadn't entirely removed the impression of coming home he felt every time he arrived. He'd returned as soon as he dared, as soon as the majority of his old friends and other acquaintances had left. He found every excuse he could to visit and at times had even considered the possibility of living here again. Blending in was possible.

Or maybe not, he considered as he looked over at Methos. His old friend's air of indifference wasn't much of a mask and it wouldn't be of any use if he were recognized. One good thing was that Interstellar Network News had stopped displaying his picture a few days after the Rangers had reported his rescue. A week's time had meant it was old news to them as they moved on to new reports of Humans being attacked on alien worlds. However, that didn't mean his face wasn't still fresh in people's minds.

"The haircut won't be enough," Valen pointed out as they turned onto Babylon 5's main corridor. Ahead of them, it was teeming with people of all races as usual. Crowds could be good for hiding in or a disaster if they got caught. Not much they could do about it now.

"I know, but it's the best I can do. If someone spots me, I'll play dumb," Methos said and hunched his shoulders looking down as he walked. "I don't know whether to avoid Humans or avoid aliens. Or both."

"Or neither. Act natural," he advised and led the way through the maze of booths and shops.

"Tell me again why I don't just hide on your ship while you get me an Ident-a-card?"

"Because a Minbari buying a Human's identification will definitely attract attention."

"Valen…"

"Call me Shaernur," Valen corrected him. "And whatever you do, don't slip up in front of the Minbari."

"Right, I'll be Benjamin."

"Benjamin what?"

"I don't know. Benjamin Franklin Pierce?"

"Again?"

"It's been centuries," Methos replied, as though that was more than enough time.

"It's a very obvious swap of Pierce Benson."

"Do you think I'd keep doing it all this time if it didn't work? I'll have you know a friend of mine used his real name for over four hundred years with little trouble. Okay, some trouble… oh, fine. I'll be Adam Frank."

"Shaernur!" called out a nearby voice.

Methos' voice trailed off as they both caught sight of a Minbari walking over to them, or more specifically to Valen.

"What a pleasure it is to see you so soon," he addressed Valen and bowed in greeting. He didn't use his own language, but spoke English having noticed Methos. "Some of my customers were just asking when you'd make your next delivery. I hadn't realized so many of them knew you by name."

Valen hadn't planned on interacting with the Minbari he knew on the station while he had Methos along. Now that he thought of it, perhaps this would be a good way of giving legitimacy to Methos' presence and a place to hide him should things go badly.

"I have good news, Tirkell," said Valen. "This is Adam Frank. He is looking to export Earth goods to Minbar. Mr. Frank, this is Tirkell of the Unn'ier Islands."

Methos copied the Minbari's bow as Valen made the introductions. Tirkell was middle aged with a pleasant manner typical of good shopkeepers around the galaxy.

"I hope you find my establishment to your satisfaction, Mr. Frank. It's difficult to acquire many Earth products. Your people have such strict copyright laws and limits on sales that much of what I have is sadly in used condition."

Methos nodded encouragingly. "Secondhand goods you say? We'll have to see about fixing that."

"I was just showing Mr. Frank the station," interrupted Valen. "Could we end the tour at your shop, say an hour before closing?"

"Certainly!" Tirkell said rather more enthusiastically than seemed necessary to Methos.

"That was easy," Valen commented as they walked away from the shop. "Let's get your Ident-a-card."

- o0o -

Valen deftly led Methos through the back ways of Babylon 5 and into Brown sector, better known as Down Below. It was much quicker than if Methos had tried to go alone, not to mention a safer way to travel. Valen wore his hood up, concealing his face and the fact that he was a Minbari. Methos had flatly refused his offer of a spare cloak. Humans just didn't wear them and if there was trouble, he didn't want to look like they were working together. The clothes he'd had no choice but to borrow were at least cut in a somewhat Human style, though in Minbari fabric.

"By the way," Methos said, giving Valen a curious look. "How'd you get that scar?"

"Fighting the Shadows."

"Ah. That doesn't exactly answer my question."

"Do you really want to know what was so bad it could do this?" Valen asked, gesturing to the thin line on his left cheek. After their immortality was triggered, Immortals ceased to scar, except on the neck.

"Yes. Did whatever rearranged your DNA make you able to scar like that?"

"No, this happened before my change. I was in a battle. A fragment of a Shadow vessel hit me, came right through my cockpit window and the vacuum of space killed me."

"How'd you explain that away?"

"I didn't have to. My ship was a prototype made with some Vorlon technology. The window repaired itself and the fighter re-pressurized. Everyone was focused on Catherine, she'd fallen into a rift in space, and in all the confusion I suppose no one realized I shouldn't have been alive. I thought I'd lost her," he said the last almost too quietly to hear. "Anyway, I had a time of it trying to pull the shrapnel out of my face before I docked. It was like glass, but it wasn't. The edges of it crumbled all over my glove. The gash festered instead of healing like normal. I got out of my fighter and went straight to my quarters.

"I panicked. Between wanting to go after Catherine and worrying that my Immortality was compromised… I almost told Rathenn what I was. Flecks of that iridescent black stuff burned like I was being poisoned. I seriously considered allowing the Minbari healers to clean it out even though they'd witness my immortality and then use that to convince the others to help me find Catherine."

Methos gave him a look that was akin to revulsion at the idea. Trust Valen not to let keeping that a secret get in his way. He could be a hazardous friend sometimes.

"I only considered it. Don't tell me you haven't thought the same when desperate enough," Valen chastised him. "The entire trip back to Minbar, my cheek would almost heal only to swell and split back open expelling grains of Shadow material like an infection until finally, I was left with this faint scar. Given that the original wound was the size of my fist, it could've been much worse. Even so, I had to keep it covered and dodge the medical staff for weeks so they wouldn't know that it had healed in a matter of days."

Methos thought about that before finally saying, "I'm glad the Shadows are gone."

"Me, too."

Methos sidestepped a ragged looking alien that was trying to pick his pocket. It was an instinctive movement. He didn't actually have anything worth stealing as Valen was carrying the money since he was armed. The paper boxes and various more difficult to identify substances the homeless people used to live in were much the same everywhere he'd traveled in the galaxy.

"Are there any homeless Minbari?" he asked, idly.

Valen didn't get a chance to answer. A pair of enormous aliens that bore a striking resemblance to dinosaurs stepped into their path.

"Single," came a melodious and feminine voice from the translating device one of the hulking aliens was carrying.

Methos would've laughed if they didn't look so eager to kill something. He wondered if they knew that their translator's audio was so terribly mismatched and not particularly good with Human words either.

"You'll have to go the rest of the way alone," Valen explained. "They don't like visitors bringing backup. I'll be waiting right here for you."

Methos nodded and Valen handed him a packet of alien hard currency. He couldn't use Earth credits here. Not only would they charge him extra to cover the cost of masking anyone's attempts to track the money's origin electronically, it still might get traced anyway. He stepped gingerly between the reptiles. To his relief, the one not drooling checked him for weapons and then pointed in the direction he should go. Around the corner was a simple desk where a slightly more appealing alien was sitting. He wondered idly if it was a good thing or not that his brain translated an avian appearance as more likely to be benign than a reptilian.

"Business?" the alien asked in a thick accent.

"Earth Ident-a-card."

She, if it was a she, handed him a placard with a blue square and said, "Go there."

Slightly bewildered, Methos began slowly walking further down the narrow hallway. He passed a few doors marked with brightly colored geometric shapes before stopping at the one with a blue square. There was no slot for a keycard and no button to push to ring a bell. He knocked and the door jerkily slid open halfway in its frame and jammed.

"Enter," said a bored voice, as though the door's antics were normal.

Methos did so, ducking under the half raised door and hoping it wouldn't fall on him. "I need an Ident-a-card," he told the man at the desk. He was immensely relieved to see he was a Human and even his seedy looking appearance was a welcome sight.

"How much can you afford?"

"It needs to be good enough to get to Earth," Methos replied, not wanting to say how much money he was carrying. "I have Abbai currency."

"Do I look like an exchange terminal?"

"I'm sure someone in this establishment can use it," said Methos smartly. "I also have Minbari script if you'd prefer that."

"Minbari?" the man echoed in an odd tone of voice and frowned looking up at him.

Methos wondered if perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned it, but then if it were a problem surely Valen wouldn't have given it to him to use here? He had no more time to wonder as suddenly there was the sound of people yelling down the hallway. Methos stepped out of the tiny room, the dealer at his heels.

Another alien was running down the hall, yelling several words unintelligible to Methos. Except for the last word, "Trap!"

He continued past Methos, repeating the same string of words warning others. The Ident-a-card dealer squeezed past him with an armload of stuff, pausing only to pluck the placard out of Methos' hand and rip the matching one off the wall. He took off running. Methos was uncertain whether to follow or go the way he came in.

One of the massive guards' came stomping and yelling around the corner. "You," his machine translated sweetly as he brandished what looked like a short sword to Methos. "You lead Security here. You die."

Methos ran for it, knowing not to bother trying to explain that he'd done no such thing. He made it halfway before a burning sensation spread rapidly along his lower back and up his shoulders sending him crashing to the dingy deck. He had half a second to realize that he'd been shot by a PPG before he died and collapsed to the floor.

He gasped greedily for air as he returned to the land of the living and opened his eyes to see the heels of two huge scaly feet. To his relief, the behemoth hadn't decided to hack him to bits after shooting him. Even better, he had his back to him and was focused on aiming his PPG at the next person to come around the corner. His other hand held the sword down pointed at the floor. Methos surged to his feet and snatched it out of the guard's loose grip.

The alien turned to look behind himself and started to swing his gun around only to freeze in shock at the sight of Methos alive. His hesitation gave Methos the time he needed to cut off his head. The alien made a lot of noise crashing to the deck. Methos backed away from the twitching corpse and examined the weapon. It looked smaller when the guard had held it and the handle was horribly bulky, he realized it wasn't a sword at all, but a knife. Methos had carried heavy iron or bronze swords most of his life, it would do.

He spent half a second looking for the PPG before concluding it must be under the alien. He couldn't waste time trying to get it, besides it wasn't as though he could move the guy anyway. As he moved carefully down the hallway, he scratched at his back where the PPG blast had hit him. The hole was healed as though it never was there and the skin smooth again, but burns always left a phantom itching for a while afterwards. Not to mention it'd ruined a perfectly good shirt.

The sounds of a struggle were growing louder. Methos peaked around the corner and jumped back just in time to not get hit by Valen careening past him with one of the other guards clinging to his shoulders. Valen spun around, slamming the alien's back into a wall with all his might to dislodge him. He fell heavily, nearly taking Valen down with him, but the cloak's catch snapped releasing Valen. He dispatched the alien with a long metal pole in a single blow.

With no other thugs in sight, they quickly ran back the way they'd entered. Methos tossed the sword once they cleared the entrance and darted down a new corridor.

"Why'd you throw it away?" Valen asked in a voice just audible over the distant fighting and shouts of station personnel ahead of them.

"We're out of there and it's not a good idea to get caught carrying one of those," he explained. The sound of people running down the corridor grew louder. "You should get rid of that pole," he advised.

To his surprise, Valen's weapon collapsed into a small tube. He tucked it into his tunic without a moment left to spare. Two of the station's security personnel came barreling around the corner with their PPG's aimed at the Immortals.

"Halt! Security! Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air. Now!"

Calmly, as though nothing had gone amiss, they both raised their empty hands.

"Only a little Ranger business, officers," said Valen and he nodded down at his tunic. With his cloak gone, his Isil'zha insignia was clearly visible. "Why else would a Minbari and a Human be fighting criminals in Down Below?"

"Oh, well…" said the lead officer as they both lowered their guns. "Be sure to file the proper reports."

"Of course," answered Methos. He put his arms down, but was careful to keep his palms visible. No need to startle anyone unnecessarily. As the officers waved them by, he kept his back angled toward the walls and Valen stepped around him to block their view.

"Hey," the second officer said suddenly. "You look like that Immortal on the news."

"Really? Thanks," Methos said, beaming like a kid. "I'm thinking about doing parties."

Once they were out of sight, Methos felt for the hole in the back of his shirt. It was black fabric, so the scorching wouldn't be noticeable and was too large for him anyway. He folded the loose material carefully over the hole and re-tucked it into his belt. It would have to do until they got back to the ship. He waited until they had returned to the busier and safer levels of the station before asking, "What happens when they realize we're not Rangers?"

"But I am. I made the Rangers," he answered as he removed the pin from his outer tunic and put it in his pocket. Apparently he didn't want to advertise he was a Ranger to everyone, just use it in Down Below as needed.

"And when there is no report?"

"We'll both be off station by then, I hope. We can try again later tonight. In the meantime, you'll have to pose as a salesman again. It's the best way to explain why I've brought a Human here."

"What if your colleagues ask for my non-existent Ident-a-card?"

"They won't because I'm vouching for you. The station personnel won't ask either so long as nothing happens to attract their notice. Staying near the merchants will let you hide in plain sight."

"What am I supposed to be selling then?" Methos asked as they reached the Zocolo.

"Make something up," Valen said and then clarified, "something decent. Don't draw attention for your own amusement."

"I'll see what he's got already," Methos murmured as he looked around at the people bustling in and out of the shops. "Popular place. Is it just me or are there more Minbari about then there were earlier?"

Valen looked surreptitiously around. "There are," he agreed. "They don't seem to be shopping, either."

The number of people stopping to look at them, or pausing to look at what others were staring at was growing the further they walked. "I've been recognized," Methos stated grimly.

"Maybe. Staring isn't normal Minbari behavior, much less trying to hide that they are staring. It reminds me a bit of how they acted when Kosh was here. They'd heard so many legends about Vorlons that they did tend to gawk for a moment the first time they saw his encounter suit."

"I see," Methos said after a pause. Time to find out the worst case scenario then. "If so, what will they do?"

"Exactly what they are doing, whether they are certain it is you or not. They won't approach you, at least."

"And I can't ask them what they are looking at."

"Not unless you want to confirm it."

"Someone from Delenn's ship has a big mouth," Methos growled under his breath.

"Not them. Delenn's crew are Rangers."

"How about one of the passengers?"

"If they weren't told not to…" Valen admitted with a grimace.

"Think they'll tell the station's command staff?"

"I doubt it, but if it does get out we can count on the captain to hush it up."

"Why, so he can take the credit?"

"No, because she's one of us."

"Friend of yours?" Methos asked.

"No, I've never met Captain Lochley."

"Fantastic!" he hissed. "You didn't think to mention that a potentially hostile Immortal runs this station you regularly visit. You do realize how easily she could arrange to take your head?"

"If she's like that," said Valen. "It's a big place and we come and go the same as everyone else."

Methos' worry about the attentive crowd was pushed aside by the much greater threat, at least for the moment. "The chance of running into people you knew before your facelift wasn't risky enough for you, was it? Is this how you were planning on announcing to other Immortals what you've become?"

"I've encountered the captain twice in this very corridor and she's never given me so much as a glance."

"So it happened that she wasn't in the mood to hunt through a large crowd those times," he said dismissively.

"Tell me," Valen said, annoyed now. "If you sensed an Immortal and the only other being in sight was an alien, what would you think?"

"That the Immortal was hidden from view," Methos conceded. "All right, I get your point. Sorry to say this, but the sooner we part company the better. I have no desire to run into others like us, especially not one in a position of power and the Minbari staring contest is getting disturbing."

"Agreed, I… what is going on?" Valen's words stuttered to a halt. "Look ahead, standing under that blue sign over there. What do you see that shouldn't be here?"

Methos followed his gaze to a group of Minbari of various ages, some old, some young, some very young. "What… the children? Huh, I've never seen Minbari kids before."

"They don't leave Minbari space. Ever. The children are too precious to risk."

Valen sounded genuinely alarmed. He hadn't been overly surprised at the possibility that a few Minbari might wish to catch a glimpse of an Immortal, yet his reaction now implied this was something different. "I wouldn't bring kids to see me," Methos concluded. "So, what's so important the parents have hauled their children all the way out here to show them?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe they're here to see the Giant Egress," Methos said, irked at Valen's useless reply.

Valen gave him a longsuffering look. "You are reminding me of why I never invite you to visit."

"Well, let's get this business charade over with, shall we?"

- o0o -

The foreboding feeling that was nagging Valen grew substantially worse as they approached the shop, which also had more Minbari milling about than usual. As he crossed the threshold, his heart sank as he saw an entourage of Grey Council acolytes and Minbar's highest-ranking representatives on the station waiting inside. They bowed deeply in unison and did not so much as raise their eyes from their shoes. The shopkeeper and his employees standing nearby picked up on their behavior quickly and likewise began dropping their gaze. Their solemn silence spread to those standing just outside the doorway, engulfing the rest of the crowd behind him until the only sound was the gentle tinkling of the bells carried by three of the acolytes. Though he could guess what was about to happen, it didn't mean he had to like it.

"Entil'Zha Valen," said the council messenger in a hushed, reverent voice.

Tirkell and his assistants tensed, stifling gasps as she spoke. She paid no heed to their reactions and continued in Adronanto, "The Grey Council requests that you accept their hospitality onboard the Valen'tha and retake your rightful place among our people."

"That was fast," he commented lowly, also in the religious caste dialect. He schooled his face so as not to show his churning emotions. All he wanted to do was get out of here. "I'm afraid I must decline."

"Master, please," she spoke desperately and her aides shifted anxiously in place. "If you don't accept the council's invitation, they will not only announce your return, but also your location. The resulting flood of supplicants – "

" – will give me no choice but to leave or be mobbed. Not to mention how they'd disrupt any public place I go to. Yes, I've had a reminder of what that is like today. I suppose that's how the council found me?"

"Yes. The sudden pilgrimage to this place did not go unnoticed. Escaping not only alive from a Soul Hunter, but unscathed was extraordinary enough to attract even the council's attention. They recognized your identity image at once. They couldn't have found you if it weren't for these circumstances. You left no trace from Nibiru and Babylon 5 was the last place they expected you to be."

"I know that you are only doing your duty as a messenger and I mean no slight against you when I say this, but you can tell the Nine that if they want me, they'll have to fetch me themselves. Now, go."

"Yes, master."

The messenger and acolytes bowed deeply again to him before leaving the shop as he ordered. None of the rest of the Minbari spoke or looked up in their admirable imitation of statues. He turned and watched the crowd outside thicken ominously in the acolytes' wake. A few aliens and Humans paused in confusion before hurrying nervously on their way past the shop.

Valen stepped into the corridor and moved quickly through the people as if they weren't there. Methos hurried after him. They turned a corner, passed by an occupied lift, crossed into another smaller corridor and then backtracked to some stairs to a lower level before Valen stopped at a lift just unloading its passengers.

As they stepped inside, he said quickly, "I expect that crowd to park itself outside my ship as soon as they realize they've lost which direction I've gone. The Council's messenger wouldn't have used my name in apublic place if they didn't want everyone to know. Of all the times to be without a hooded cloak, why now…" he muttered in exasperation.

"So, I take it I'm safely unrecognized for the moment?"

Valen nodded as he realized that Methos likely hadn't understood much of what had been said in the shop, other than to notice that the Minbari weren't interested in him.

"Good," said Methos and immediately jumped to the correct conclusion. "What did they want with you then?"

"A week ago, some merchants and I were caught in a crossfire," Valen told him, choosing to explain only a fraction of the problem. "We don't usually trade with unstable worlds, it was a local protest that got out of hand. I was hit by shrapnel, but I thought no one had seen it."

"Well, wouldn't they laugh it off if they had?" Methos suggested. "Just think their eyes played tricks on them when you turned out to be fine?"

"Sure, if they were Humans wishing to avoid the inconvenience of ridicule," Valen said and then muttered half to himself, "and Minbari think Humans never conform." He shook his head before continuing. "Minbari don't dismiss what they see so easily. No one said anything, but then workers wouldn't contradict me despite that the Minbari's respect for another's privacy doesn't apply to dangerous situations. The warrior and religious castes would've bluntly questioned me or shouted that they'd seen a miracle if they had witnessed it. Workers are the quiet ones."

"Not quiet enough. That was a lot of people."

"How'd they know where to find me, though?"

"Would those merchants with you in that crossfire know your route takes you to Babylon 5?"

"Yes."

"Bet these people started arriving days ago, then."

"What am I going to do?"

Valen said it in a half rhetorical tone, but Methos answered anyway. "You could vanish. Spend a decade or two on a tropical island, mountaintop… anywhere else. I wouldn't recommend another desert locale."

"I meant right now."

"Good question. I don't know. Help me get off the station?" he asked hopefully.

Valen nodded. "Keeping a low profile doesn't matter now. I'll buy your ticket, so at least that will be done."

They exited the lift and headed straight for an available terminal. Methos kept a look out for curious Minbari. However, the machine rejected Valen's credit-chip at once.

"They've locked me out of my accounts," he said, stunned.

"Don't you have hidden ones?"

"Yes, within Minbar's system. I don't have a card for them here. Didn't think I'd need it," he said as his mind scrambled for a way out of this mess.

"How about we just leave the station? I can get an Ident-a-card somewhere else."

"I was just thinking the same thing. If the traffic's low enough, I might get a departure slot in a few hours… or not," said Valen angrily. "They've impounded my ship!"

"Someone knew you'd try to give them the slip then?" said Methos catching on quickly.

"That or they prepared for every possibility before approaching me. If so, then I'm surprised that they haven't gone to the station's captain to –"

"Babylon 5 is under a non-emergency lockdown," the station's public announcement system blared over their heads. "This is not an emergency, but a diplomatic matter. No ships may leave. I repeat: Babylon 5 is under a non-emergency lockdown."

"Now what?"

"Now, we get away from the crowds," Valen answered.

- o0o -

They abandoned the station's main corridors, all of which seemed to have an inordinate number of Minbari in them. Methos wasn't sure if it was merely his imagination or if he was noticing them more. Valen led the way into Babylon 5's massive gardens and hydroponics. It wasn't exactly a good hiding place, but the various bushes, small trees and art made it easier to shake off anyone that might be following Valen than in the halls. It was also a good place to talk without being overheard.

"You don't have to go with them," Methos said as he leaned against a sculpture of a weeping figure.

"True, I can wait for them to knock me out and drag me away," replied Valen sarcastically. He folded his arms and began pacing along the walkway.

Methos gave him a disbelieving look, dismissing the statement as exaggeration. "They know where you live, your ship and your current identity. If that's not enough, then are they about to break Delenn's promise that Minbari won't hold Immortals captive?"

"This isn't about immortality really, they'd act like this even if they didn't know. The problem is that they've recognized me," Valen admitted. "They wouldn't hurt me, but you'd be surprised at how much the Grey Council can justify to themselves with the words 'for his own good.' Sorry for getting you stuck here, by the way."

"Not your fault… well, yes it is your fault, but I certainly won't hold it against you. I suppose I can leave after the Minbari have whisked you away."

"Or someone else does."

"You aren't seriously considering that, are you?" Methos asked, disapproving. "You haven't exactly been on Earth's Christmas card list lately."

"They'd do it for the sake of pulling one over Minbar and it'd be easier to skip out on Earth later."

"Before your makeover sure, but now?" he said shaking his head. "They might kill you for becoming Minbari or hand you over to them."

"So, I should just go along with it?"

"If you've no choice, then why not stick with your fan club? They must drop their guard eventually, then you can clear out."

"'Live, grow stronger, fight another day,'" Valen quoted one of Methos' favorite sayings. "Is that it?"

"Yeah, it works."

"Works for you."

"And you. You went along with things after the war, didn't you? Let Earthforce ship you out wherever they pleased no matter how much you disliked it. I saw the newspapers after they dumped you on Minbar. You said yourself on the flight from Nibiru that you didn't want to take over leading the Rangers at first. "

"Granted, so long as what they asked of me wasn't wrong –"

"What's bad about this? Other than the being thrown into the limelight like Delenn and becoming famous as the second person to change species, that is?" Methos said with a shudder. "It isn't as though the galaxy knows you are Immortal." His attempt to downplay Valen's dilemma by comparing it to his own didn't help much.

"I'm not ready to return to that life."

Now that was an oddly worded reply. "Have you been getting ready?" Methos asked unable to guess at what Valen meant.

"Not really. Now doesn't seem like the right time, but I don't know when will be."

"I know the feeling well. Reluctant hero syndrome strikes all of us."

"I do believe that is the first time I've ever heard you refer to yourself as heroic," said Valen, amused.

"Don't tell anyone. My reputation would be ruined."

"That's the other problem. My reputation is absurdly unrealistic," replied Valen in a tired voice. "I'm a cultural icon."

"Ah, so you can only go down, not up?"

"Precisely."

"So what? Why should you care? Do what you like… okay," Methos amended at Valen's disapproving look. "Do what is right, honorable, etc. as usual."

"What would I do if you weren't here, Methos?"

"Agonize over only completing nine impossible things before breakfast instead of ten, I expect..." Methos' words trailed off as they walked around the next corner.

The path ahead of them seemed to be overflowing with Minbari warriors. Methos struggled to blink away an unpleasant flashback to the last time he'd seen this many intimidating, black clad Minbari. They weren't brandishing weapons to his relief, but standing at attention. An honor guard then, not a threat, he concluded. It didn't help that whoever had sent them looked to have picked the largest and fiercest available. Though they were only on eye level or slightly taller than the Immortals, they somehow seemed to eclipse everything around them.

The guards bowed formally to Valen.

"The council is waiting outside the station now?" asked Valen in English for Methos' benefit.

"Yes, master," answered the group's commander in the same language, though grudgingly.

"Lead on then."

The warriors took positions surrounding them both, effectively ignoring Methos while also including him, probably because of how Valen had addressed them. He looked at Valen and raised one eyebrow, inquiring what to do. Valen shook his head in response and began walking forward. Methos sighed and fell in line. Obviously the warriors weren't going to make him stay behind if Valen didn't tell them to.

At first, Methos was afraid the guards were going to parade through the main corridor, but to his relief they chose residential and less frequented areas of the station far from the commercial hub. The few people they passed hurried out of their way. The normally busy corridors leading to the docking bays were deserted. Whether that was due to the canceled flights or they were intentionally cleared, Methos didn't know. The lack of station personnel bothered him.

Finally, the guards halted outside a hanger bay door and looked menacingly at Methos. Valen gave Methos that long suffering half smile he always wore when faced with a tiresome duty. He'd do it and make the best of it. Methos could only be glad he wasn't stuck in such a situation. He certainly wouldn't continue to worry about a friend he could no longer help, like Valen was probably doing now, though.

"This is goodbye, then?" he asked, deciding the matter for Valen.

"Afraid so. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more assistance, old friend."

Methos waved his apology away. "I'll manage."

"You're welcome to take my ship. They'll release it when I'm gone."

"Thanks, but no. Minbari ships are not exactly nondescript. Not that I'd know how to fly the thing anyway," he added hastily, mindful of the warriors listening. "See you later then."

Methos turned to leave only to stop in mid-step as he sensed another Immortal approaching. He and Valen stared up and down the empty corridor in unison causing the guards to tense. They homed in on the sensation only they could feel and stared directly at the lift they'd exited just a few minutes before.

"There's nowhere for us to go," Methos murmured apprehensively, which prompted the warriors to brandish knives and pull out those extending pikes of theirs as their eyes searched for the unknown threat. Methos didn't bother to wonder how they'd brought them on the station, apparently it was possible to sneak in anything so long as it was unlike Earth's weapon designs and wasn't universally illegal.

The lift doors opened and out stepped a tall woman in an Earthforce uniform who was clearly the station's captain. Methos froze, unable to hide the look of absolute terror spreading across his face. It took a moment for him to return to his senses. Of all Immortals, why did it have to be her? As she approached her eyes slid at once to Methos and hardened before centering on Valen.

"So you are the Minbari VIP who has caused such an uproar?" said Captain Elizabeth Lochley brusquely as she walked up to Valen. "Your government made a really big stink to shut down Babylon 5's traffic and without a decent explanation, of course. Officially, this nonsense has been allowed as a courtesy. Minbar is going to compensate everyone's business hindered by the lockdown and that's a heck of a lot of money. Unofficially, Earthgov wants to know who is so darn important and so do I."

The warriors bristled in outrage, but Valen raised a hand to forestall them from doing anything rash.

"Captain, I cannot answer that," he replied

"Or maybe the fuss is over the company you keep," she said, her gaze moving over to Methos again. "I'd like a word," she addressed him haughtily, "If you don't mind."

Valen and Methos exchanged a mutual look of uncertainty before Methos stepped away from the Minbari and followed her to the end of the corridor. All he could do is hope that if she tried to kill him that Valen would intervene in time. After all, he wasn't armed, but Valen and his warrior posse were.

"Methos," she hissed in disgust.

"Cassandra," he replied resignedly.

"I saw on the news that you were captured by aliens. Rather fitting, wasn't it?"

"It wasn't the first time I've been someone's prisoner. Would you like the gory details?"

"Don't bore me. Are you working for the Minbari now?"

"No, they rescued me. I just owe them a favor," he said, not bothering to tell her that it wasn't these Minbari who helped him.

"You don't pay debts," she said with a scoff.

"They don't know that. Relax, I'm not even leaving with them. They'll get nothing."

Cassandra thought about that for a moment. "As much as I dearly wish to kill you for what you did to me," she said through gritted teeth, "a Quickening of that magnitude would turn this station into a deathtrap. I won't murder a quarter of a million people. I refuse to become like you, much less worse than you. So, you get to live a little longer."

She strode angrily back to the assembled Minbari. "As for you," she addressed Valen and her voice changed pitch to a low compeling tone. "You will take this man with you and get off my station. Now."

She didn't wait for a response, but stormed back the way she came.

Once the captain was on the lift, Valen gave Methos a highly insulted look and snapped, "You could have warned me she was a telepath."

"She isn't. She can't read thoughts, she just has a voice hypnosis ability," he explained hastily.

"Don't tell me it only works on the weak minded."

"No, it only affects those who can hear her… well, her elders tend to be immune. Funny, that compulsion should've worked on you."

"I've aged a bit extra, didn't Delenn tell you?"

"She forgot to mention it."

"Ah, I'll fill you in later. In the meantime, you'll have to come with us."

"What?" Methos exclaimed. "You're not serious?"

"Cassandra obviously believes that I'll comply, which shows that her power of suggestion normally works on Minbari. I don't know if your proximity prevented her from clearly sensing me, if her anger distracted her or if she dismissed the possibility outright. I'd rather she didn't get the opportunity to think twice about it."

"You'd be long gone by then."

"But you won't. She'll have days to wonder about it while you scramble for an Ident-a-card and try to book passage in the traffic backlog. Do you think she won't detain you for questioning?"

"Very well," Methos said with a resigned sigh. He stopped suddenly and said, "Hang on, I didn't tell you her name was Cassandra."

"No, you didn't," Valen replied with a small smile. He turned to the assembled Minbari and asked, "Could any of you hear what the Humans were saying? No? Pity, you all missed a very interesting discussion."

The warriors almost stuffed Methos in their second flyer, until Valen objected. Giving in, they'd put him in the furthest seat from Valen and parked the burliest of their number next to him. A glance out of the window confirmed that they'd also commandeered Valen's ship, whether because he'd turned it down or not, Methos didn't know.

"Never thought I'd have to board one of those monsters again," Methos commented lowly as he watched the Grey Council's war cruiser loom larger and larger in the forward window.

Valen turned in his seat to look at him. "You could try imagining it's an angelfish," he suggested trying to lighten his friend's mood.

"I bought one of those for a girlfriend once. Damn thing ate the rest of her fish."

Valen burst out laughing, though Methos could tell it was more from stress than actual humor.

"How can you find that funny?" Methos said pointing ahead at the war cruiser.

As though he were an errant child, the warrior next to him firmly grasped Methos' outstretched arm and forced it back down. Methos matched his glare, but didn't resist.

"I'm sorry," Valen apologized. "The humiliation and fear has long since faded away for me, but not for you."

"Blink of an eye," he replied caustically. "Having just spent an unscheduled holiday with the Narns doesn't help either."

"Will you be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll have to be," Methos said. "Tell me, what would the Minbari," he glanced at the warrior out of the corner of his eye, but otherwise pretended neither he nor the others were listening, "have done if they'd found Immortals at the end of the war?" He referred none too subtly to their capture at the Battle of the Line.

"Probably much the same as now," answered Valen morosely. "If its any consolation, I think they'll be too distracted to bother you or the others for awhile."

"Good," he said, not caring how it sounded.

"Any particular place you'd like to be dropped off at?" Valen asked amiably.

"I'll have to think. Anywhere close obviously… Tau Ceti, preferably."

"Are you sure? That's an awfully small place."

"It'll do."

What seemed to be the entire ship's personnel was waiting on deck as they docked. Methos had seen a newsreel of President Luchenko's visit to the first Warlock class ship last year, but that paled in comparison to this. And not because he was personally here either, the warriors didn't let him get much of a view. They formed a veritable wall behind Valen. He caught a glimpse of a row of cloaked and hooded grey figures bowing deeply to Valen before a pair of white robed acolytes herded him behind the flyer and out of sight.

It made Methos feel rather like a pet dog that needed to be removed lest he spoil the ceremony by barking. He'd heard it said that the Minbari had a ritual for everything. The more important the event, the longer and more complicated the ritual. Thinking of that made him rather glad he wasn't expected to go through what promised to be a very long ordeal for Valen.

- o0o -

The Valen'tha

Hours later when all the ceremonies were properly performed, instead of retiring the Nine broke from protocol and led Valen to the council chamber. He was alone before the Grey Council for the first time in centuries, though it'd been only a few years for them. He did not stand in the center spotlight, but paced the outer edges of the council's places moving from darkness to dim outer light with each step. In another break from tradition, all of them removed their hoods. He faintly recognized a few faces, but the rest were strangers.

As Valen listened to their anxious voices, he reflected on the strain recent events had put on this government. Nearly twenty years of upheaval was responsible for more turnover than usual for the council. Most of the members who'd met him when he was Human were no longer part of the current ruling body. Jenimer and Neroon were dead, Delenn was deposed, Rathenn, Hedronn and Coplann each declined to return when Delenn reformed the Council. Morann and Racine were not invited back. The result was that of the nine in front of him, only two had been Satai during the Earth/Minbari war, both worker caste. He'd seen two of the others on his first journey to Minbar, but hadn't spoken with them. The five new additions were entirely unknown to him.

His presence apparently didn't intimidate them in the slightest, as evidenced by the thorough roasting he was getting.

"My family died in the civil war! You could have stopped the priests' and warriors' insanity," said Katz, his voice breaking and he was almost in tears. He was the oldest member of the council. "If you had only stopped them."

"I couldn't have," Valen answered sorrowfully.

"You could!" insisted Nur. Like Katz, she'd been on the council the longest. "If you'd revealed yourself the fighting would have ended. None would disobey you, master."

Valen looked at her sadly. The others mirrored her stricken expression. They felt betrayed naturally. However, they were far from renouncing him. There were so many things he could say that would sooth their anger. How easily he could reassure them, but empty platitudes now would only delay the inevitable. Saying nothing at all would do more damage than telling the truth. The painful truth would have to do.

"As I could have stopped you from your unholy war against Earth?"

That silenced them, but at the cost of increasing the tension. The stiffening of their postures, the suppressed gasps were a warning that the slightest wrong word could incite involuntary violence. Minbari weren't prone to it anymore, but it did happen under extreme duress and the shame they'd feel afterward would only make things worse. He'd have to take the risk.

"Do you think it was easy for me to watch you commit atrocities? You know that any action I took to change what happened would at best change nothing, but more likely it would've jeopardized the future."

"You could have warned Dukhat," accused one of the warrior Satai, Mazik, while the rest murmured uneasily. "He could have lived – "

"Dukhat was my son!" Valen bellowed over their voices. They quieted abruptly, horror etched on every face. "Can you imagine what it is like to hold your child knowing you couldn't spare or warn him of his fate? It broke my heart."

Some placed a hand onto the center of their chests over their own heart in response to that expression. It wasn't the same as the Human gesture, but similar enough considering they had no idea Valen introduced that phrase to them a thousand years ago. It was yet another unintended change he'd wrought on their culture.

"Dukhat was my son," he repeated more softly. "I'd have died if it could have saved him, saved my people from slaughtering each other, spared us all that agony and despair. However, you know as well as I that it would have been worse if I'd interfered. The Shadows would have moved too soon. Trying to postpone the civil war would have been no better."

"And now, master? Are you interfering?" asked the old priest, Bhurli, his voice deceptively quiet.

"Yes," Valen said bluntly. "You've forced me out of seclusion and will now reap the results."

The approach of an acolyte interrupted them. In his hands was a long shrouded object. He walked to Dhaliri, the other religious caste Satai and bowed. She nodded in return and unwrapped it to reveal the Triluminary staff. She took it from him and he backed away into the shadows. She turned to Valen and held it out to him.

"Master, will you not take your staff?" asked Dhaliri.

He looked at it thoughtfully. It was the most recent replacement of his original wooden pole, now long gone, but the Triluminary topping it was the same. It became the mark of the leader of the Grey Council to carry it and in the absence of a leader, a temporary speaker for the Nine held it when in session. None of these Satai had touched it since Delenn reformed the council. When she'd reserved the leadership of the council for "the One who is to come" they'd set aside their most powerful symbol in response. He'd found her choice of words interesting when he'd heard them on the live broadcast shown to all Minbari space. Zathras had called him "the One who was," called Delenn "the One who is," and called Sheridan "the One who will be."

Valen could attest that he'd done all that he was supposed to do in the past, Delenn had accomplished much in the present and Sheridan had already begun his destiny. He was certain that Delenn had not intended this staff for anyone she knew, not Sheridan and not himself. After all, she had every reason to believe he'd died centuries ago.

He'd expected the Minbari who knew he'd been Human to logically assume that his first encounter with them during the Earth/Minbari war was the return he wrote about. It would be for them, chronologically. However, that wasn't what he'd meant. Given his likely very long life, he had planned to stand before the Minbari people again someday. Though he'd intended it to be at a time of his own choosing, not by accident and certainly not now.

It humbled him to think that perhaps Delenn and others had continued to hold onto the promise he'd written over nine hundred years ago, despite that they knew his origins. However, Delenn, Rathenn and Jenimer weren't here. Strangers surrounded him. Delenn had appointed them and he trusted her judgment, yet he hesitated for one reason. When he'd come aboard, not one Ranger was amongst those who greeted him. He couldn't help but wonder what this council's motives were in that they'd take the time to bring a representative from every caste and clan, yet exclude his Anla'shok. He strongly suspected that they'd not told Delenn what they were doing. He was sure that she'd learned of it anyway and sent Rangers, so why weren't they here? Had they been refused admittance?

Noticing that his long silence was disturbing them, Valen broke his gaze from the staff and answered cryptically, "Only when it is."

Exhausted both mentally and physically, he left the chamber. There was a veritable bevy of acolytes waiting in the corridor for him along with a full honor guard. They bowed deeply to him and kept their eyes downcast. Even the warriors didn't look at his face, but somehow managed to keep an eye on the area by staring at the wall above his head each time they looked in his direction. Though he knew that an honor guard was appropriate for his status, for one cynical moment he wondered if they were there to keep him from running off.

He turned to the nearest one and said, "Inform the ship's alyt to head for the Human outpost Tau Ceti. Once my guest has departed there, we may resume course."

"Yes, master," he answered and hurried away.

Valen suppressed a sigh of relief that no one argued with him. "Show me to my quarters," he instructed the rest.

He followed them wearily through the passages, yet he still forced himself to take note of where he was at in regard to the rest of the ship. He knew the war cruiser design very well, however he expected the Grey Council's ship to have some differences from the norm. He never had a flagship like this in the past for he and the first council spent most of their time on Babylon 4. Later councils made it their custom to live among the stars. He was aware that their ship had been replaced many times and they always gave it the same name, Valen'tha, after him.

Startling his entourage, Valen stopped suddenly in the middle of a corridor as he realized that this was the same ship they'd used during the war, which meant…

"Take me to Dukhat's sacred place," he commanded.

They obeyed with more speed than he anticipated, as though they were frightened of being caught taking him there or desperate to get it over with. Walking so fast, nearly running at one point, shook off his weariness. They stopped at a beautiful, but nondescript door by Minbari standards. Though it was unmarked, he knew that no Minbari on this ship would enter it without permission. He didn't know if it were locked or not, but the door keyed open smoothly the moment he stretched out his hand. The lights came on automatically and tiny lamps lit up on the opposite wall as the door behind him closed leaving him alone.

Though he'd never seen this room, he knew that everything inside was arranged exactly as Dukhat had left it on the previous ship, the one that was attacked by the EAS Prometheus and by Soul Hunters. Such shrines were usually dismantled after the mourning period ended, but like his house in Tuzanor, he knew the Minbari would always keep this room because of who Dukhat was. He stood on the threshold for several long moments, taking it in. He didn't know what he'd find or what he was looking for. Finally, he crossed to the meditation triangle hanging on the wall, the only distinctive feature of the room. As he drew near, something concealed in the center activated in response.

A holographic projection stemmed from it. He took a step backwards out of its path as the light and color took the form of Dukhat. It was the last thing he expected to see. Dukhat could not have known he would come here someday, could he? No, his son must have been waiting until his ship returned to Minbari space to send it and in the meantime, kept it in a hiding place. As always, the message was made to only open for him.

"Father," began the recording. "It has been too long since we last spoke and I apologize for that."

Valen's heart constricted in his chest as he recalled being relieved that his son's messages had become less frequent once he'd become Minbar's leader. The temptation to say too much had tormented him as the day of Dukhat's death drew nearer.

"You will be pleased to know that Delenn is doing very well. She is everything you said, a brilliant soul. I favor my little cousin shamelessly, I'm afraid, but the others have come to expect it since she joined the council. I never told you about that, did I? When Delenn was inducted, I gave them something of a shock. I recalled that you'd once told me that the Triluminaries recognize our family and I went to examine them for myself. To my surprise, I discovered that particular function was disabled.

"So," Dukhat beamed mischievously as he spoke, "I reactivated it, on all three of them. Oh, you should've seen the others' expressions when the Triluminary responded to Delenn! You didn't mention it would glow," he said half chastising, half teasing. "I stayed well out of the way during that part of the ceremony. I can prevent the staff's Triluminary from going off every time I pick it up, but not someone else directing one at me."

Valen suppressed a painful sigh. He hadn't known that somehow that feature was turned off over the centuries. To think, his son's curiosity and playful nature was responsible for the Triluminary's reaction to him at the Battle of the Line and saving the entire Human race from extinction. The belief that there are no coincidences was sometimes the only thing that kept him sane.

Dukhat's face suddenly turned sorrowful, "Which brings me to the purpose of this message. I've suspected it for several months, but I am now certain that my mother was a Human. Though I only know what little information other races were willing to sell… seeing their appearance, hearing audio of their language… it is familiar to me. I will redouble my efforts to persuade the council to make contact with them," his eyes took on a burning intensity as he spoke. "Father, I beg you to break your silence in this matter. Please, tell me about my mother, about her people…. the other half of my people.

"I continue to serve and lead all Minbari, in your name. I love you, my father."

Valen's vision blurred as the hologram of Dukhat winked out. He placed a hand to his eyes, trying to stop the tears flowing silently down his face.

- o0o -

End Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thank you for your reviews everyone. Sometimes I need prodding to hurry up and write things down and reviews help guilt me into getting to it. I don't know how quickly chapter 5 will be posted. I've got a few gaps to fill to connect scenes together. I will try not to take too long though.

Preview of Chapter 5:

"I know," Valen reassured her, but he noticed she still looked stressed. Too stressed. "Something else is wrong, isn't there?"

"There have been attempts on my son's life," Delenn said with remarkable composure, her emotions carefully reined in to hide how close she was to despair. Her eyes looked tired, as though they no longer had the strength to weep. "Both within days of each other and the second… if John had not been there…" She took a deep breath to steady her voice.

"Tell me exactly what happened."