Chapter 4: By War's Early Light
From fourteen planets in the Minbari Federation, engines roared to life. They had waited so long for this chance to strike at Humanity and clear it from the face of the Galaxy. And now was the time. The time to purge their filth from the true and faithful had arrived.
"Are you alright, love?" Talia asked as she entered the hospital room, "I hope I am not disturbing you."
There were few things that Alfred Bester cared for. The Corps which he had kept alive despite all the trials and troubles of the past decade. Interestingly, Michael Garibaldi he'd like to consider a friend and everything he did was to free him from the need to be bound to the mundane existence that he tried to maintain. And her, the love of his life.
"Is this genuine concern I detect from my dear wife?" he asked, his jaw sore as he moved it, the bones barely starting to heal, "Or is this nothing more than her attempt to determine just how much of a threat I still pose?"
Talia chuckled as she stepped up to the bed and sitting on the chair beside him slid a hand over his bandaged appendage.
"Such a romantic," she smiled.
"Romanticism will not get me out of here," Bester muttered, "He'll be coming after us soon."
Talia was silent for a second before she whispered, "Are you sure?"
"President Clark is a paranoid fanatic and he sees me as a potential threat," he replied, "Sooner or later, we will have to leave this place."
The rotating section of the Agamemnon slowly turned as the ship held stationary orbit above Epsilon 3. It would take two weeks to repair much of the damage and wear of the ship, but it was enough time in which to visit the planet. Sheridan had much down there he needed to attend to.
"I will also be going down with you," Morden said from his guest quarters as Sheridan walked past to the bridge, "I am being assigned to an ambassadorial position in New Geneva."
"I am sure you're help there will be much appreciated," Sheridan smiled, "And who knows, maybe you'll get along with Mr. Wells, head of the Department of Alien Relations."
Morden smiled his toothy grin at him and said, "Maybe."
Sheridan nodded to him and continued on his way to the bridge. Mr. Morden had been a big help. But unfortunately, his healing device he had brought hadn't healed Doctor Franklin. The stress his body had been under would not allow for no easy recovery. Maybe they could snag someone on death row to volunteer to save his life.
The door to the bridge slid by to let him on, and he spotted Commander Corwin standing next to the engineering console. Corwin glanced back to Sheridan and nodded.
"Captain," he said, "Are you disembarking?"
Sheridan nodded. "Yes," he replied, "I got some stuff that needs to be done in person. I'll be delivering the Satai Delenn and her companion Zacllen. I also need to drop off Mr. Morden."
Corwin's expression darkened. Sheridan frowned.
"Is there a problem Commander?" he asked.
Corwin gulped and said, "Something we need to talk about in private."
Sheridan nodded and turning to a Lieutenant gave him command as Corwin stepped out into the hallway with him. The door slid shut behind them and Corwin looked uncomfortable with whatever was on his mind. Sheridan studied his posture, his demeanor, his visible distaste. Same as with Zarkis.
"Permission to speak frankly?" Corwin finally asked.
Sheridan chuckled. "You never needed it before," he smiled, "Don't disappoint me now."
"Alright then," Corwin turned to him and looking him straight in the eyes said, "Captain, what the h-l are we doing?"
Sheridan stared a little nonplussed at him.
"What are you talking about David?"
"I don't like this Mr. Morden or his associates," Corwin explained, "Something about them is not right."
"They are perfectly fine," Sheridan shrugged, "Sure, they are powerful. So what?"
"They are dangerous," Corwin pressed, "You said so yourself they killed those two Minbari without any remorse."
Sheridan frowned, "I never said that."
"You did in your sleep," Corwin corrected him, "For heaven sakes Captain! They gave us a machine that can kill someone to heal another!"
"What does that matter? They are helping keep a member of my crew alive."
"My gut tells me not to trust them. Especially not that Morden character. Everything tells me he's not a good guy to be around."
Sheridan chewed on the inside of his lip and glared at Corwin. So what if he made an alliance with a dangerous race? David was simply over-reacting.
"Let me take care of the details of our alliance with Mr. Morden," Sheridan said, thrusting a finger in David's chest, "You take care of your own business."
"My business is to let my superior know he is make a terrible mistake," Corwin shot back but Sheridan turned on his heel and stormed away, leaving the Commander by himself.
The shuttle landed and Sheridan felt a rush of energy drain. He hated going to New Geneva. He tried avoiding it as much as possible. The politicians, the internal squabbling, the petty lack of discipline. It was nothing like his ship, where he had absolute control over what happened when it happened.
Not even his family made the trip any better in his mind. But, the shuttle dropped, and he tried to take on an air of professional detachment as he unbuckled his straps and along with Mr. Morden and the escort of GROPO guards walked off the shuttle and onto the landing platform. Behind them came Satai Delenn and her aide Zacllen. They had been bound with ripcords behind their back tightly enough that any struggling would result in cutting into the flesh. Delenn kept her eyes low, avoiding Mr. Morden. Her reaction when she had been put on the shuttle when she had seen him had been quiet violent.
Standing there was Major Ryan, second-in-command of General Hague. Sheridan stepped up to him and saluted. He spotted to the side the slick coolness of a man that had to be Mr. Wells. An efficient man as reputation would have it.
"Sir," Sheridan said, "May I present these prisoners to you."
Ryan looked approvingly at the prisoners and returned the salute. "I had no doubts you would get the job done," he replied, his round face showing nothing but genuine pleasure, "But, what is that and why isn't it in chains?"
Lennier, almost entirely forgotten, stood beside and behind Sheridan and he held his place. He realized that the next few seconds could determine his fate.
"He helped me escape and has sworn his life to our cause," Sheridan replied firmly, "I trust him implicitly."
Ryan scowled darkly at Lennier. Ryan was many things. A good soldier, a loyal human and a good man. But he was an open book and seemed to wear his expressions like a badge of honor on his sleeve.
"We shall see," he finally muttered, "And this man to my side is-"
"Gideon Welles," the man interrupted, stepping forward, "And I assume you are the ambassador to our allies? What is their name might I ask?"
"I am Mr. Morden," the man smiled, "And the name of my associates is over ten thousand letters long. No man would be able to learn it. They do have a name though most races know them by-"
"Shadows," Delenn spoke softly. She had spoken so quietly that Sheridan and Ryan passed a glance between each other, trying to figure out if the other had heard. "They are the Shadows," she repeated more firmly and loud, "And anyone who allies themselves with them will perish."
