What seemed like mere minutes after Timov finally drifted off to sleep, she was awoken by noise outside her chambers, and she got up, careful not to wake Londo. Throwing on a robe, she stepped into the palatial hallway, and she encountered Plancho and Dunseny arguing with the guards who were unswayed by Plancho's cries, but as soon as the doorway opened, the guards snapped to attention.

"Oh, Majesty," Plancho took her arm and Dunseny gasped. Timov merely gazed at Plancho's fingers with an icy stare until he realized his mistake, quickly unwinding his fingers from her arm. "Apologies, Majesty. Please, I must see the Emperor."

"What is it?" she asked calmly.

"President Sheridan wishes to speak to the Emperor."

Timov's look of disapproval melted, and she nodded. "Yes, all right. You may tell President Sheridan that the Emperor will speak to him in a few moments. Dunseny - will you see Londo is appropriately attired to receive such a call?"

Dunseny inclined his head but did not move.

Timov looked at him strangely. One of Dunseny's primary tasks was to wake the Emperor, lay out the Emperor's clothes, and assist him in dressing, and he had dutifully served in this capacity since Londo had reached the age of his ascension, but in light of his elderly years, Londo had not asked him to accompany him to Babylon 5. When the Emperor had moved to the palace, the aging servant had accompanied him at his request, and Timov had assumed that Dunseny was still performing his usual tasks, for Londo neither dressed nor undressed anywhere but in his quarters.

Timov glanced at Dunseny with a raised eyebrow. It was entirely possible the man was starting to go senile at his advanced age, and she left him in the hallway, aware that seconds were ticking away, and that time would not help President Sheridan's mood.

Swiftly, she made her way through her quarters toward her bedchamber, darkness enveloping the room and Londo's sleeping figure. Since he had returned to her quarters, Londo had been sleeping on the wrong side of the bed, always sleeping on his right shoulder in what appeared to her to be a rather uncomfortable position, but she had barely thought twice about it. She crossed to the side of the bed on which he was sleeping. "Londo," she called out and reached out to wake him, but he rolled over tiredly, propping himself against the edge of the bed. "Is something wrong?" he asked drowsily.

"President Sheridan is waiting to speak with you, and Dunseny is waiting outside to ensure you . . . ." She waved a hand at his nightgown, ". . . can receive the call." She reached a hand forward to straighten out his gown which had strangely bunched around his shoulder, but in a flash, before she could touch it, Londo had stood, catching her wrist in a vice grip.

Timov gasped sharply. "Londo," she stared at him, "you're hurting me."

He looked as shocked as she did, and he immediately loosened his grip. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . ."

"Go," she commanded him, but he turned toward her again.

"I've hurt my shoulder and . . . I was afraid that you would . . . ."

"Go," she said again, softer, and she watched him retreat toward his chambers. She turned up the lights and stared at her wrist, reddened where he had closed his iron grip. He had never done anything like that before, and she was left wondering what had happened to his shoulder to make his react so violently, and she considered whether there might be something to his night terrors after all.

Fearing she would be unable to sleep, she dressed, and she exited her quarters. As she turned into the hallway, she noticed Dunseny waiting patiently there.

"Dunseny," she asked, "Londo is already in his quarters. You will not join him?"

Dunseny shook his gray crest. "He does let me assist him in dressing anymore, Your Majesty. I adjust his medals and marks of station when he is ready."

"Well that doesn't sound like Londo at all," Timov said under her breath. "Has he forbidden you from entering his chambers?" she asked, suspiciously.

"No, Majesty. I am allowed to enter and lay out his clothing and retrieve his laundry. But he instructed that I should no longer assist him in other matters."

Timov regarded Dunseny for a moment, contemplating the bow of Dunseny's back and his advanced years. "Well," she said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, "you have earned more of a retirement than that, I expect."

The old man bowed deeply. "I am yet glad to be of service."

"And you are, Dunseny, you always have been a boon to House Mollari." Timov smiled at the old man's dedication. He had turned down a full retirement at House Mollari to serve at Londo's side in the palace, but his age was showing, and as much as he had dedicated his life to House Mollari, he also deserved time with his own grandchildren. Timov approved of Londo's decision to lessen the man's workload, but it was also odd that an emperor would not merely employ another servant to attend him.

Timov's thoughts were interrupted when Londo appeared striding down the hallway, having exited his quarters, as he stopped briefly in front of Dunseny with his arms open.

"Perfect, yes?"

Dunseny adjusted a few minor items and bowed his head. "As always, Majesty."

Londo patted him on the shoulder and disappeared toward the cabinet room, his guards trailing in his wake.

John Sheridan was fuming. When the figure of Londo appeared before him, Sheridan's jaws were clenched. Not even Delenn's calming presence nearby could contain his anger.

"Mr. President," Londo calmly faced Sheridan on the monitor, arms clasped behind him.

"Emperor Mollari," Sheridan could barely contain his fury.

"What can I do for you at . . . eh . . . 3 a.m.?"

"I am calling . . ." John tried to contain his rage, "to inform you that two Centauri have been arrested and charged with the terror attack on Babylon 5."

Londo's face was grim. "I see."

"Upon arrest," Sheridan continued, "they made a full confession. They were arraigned a short while ago. They pled guilty against the advice of their legal counsel and asked for immediate sentencing."

Londo narrowed his eyes, a shadow descending over his face.

Sheridan didn't pause, "I am giving you the courtesy of letting you know that their sentence will be carried out shortly."

"What is their sentence?" Londo asked, although he already could guess the answer.

"The death of personality," Sheridan said briskly. He paused, quelling the anger that was boiling over into his voice. "The evidence shows - and the Centauri admitted - that the plot was a state sanctioned attack." Sheridan could feel the blood throbbing in his veins, and he could no longer restrain himself. "Damn it, Londo, how could you do it? To the station you lived on for years? Have you seen the casualty reports? Hundreds - hundreds are dead or unaccounted for. People you knew. People who trusted you when you were an ambassador there."

Londo stared grimly at the Alliance President. "Mr. President . . . ."

Sheridan threw a hand up, "Don't 'Mr. President' me, Londo."

"Mr. President," Londo said again, more emphatically, "I can assure you that my government had nothing to do with the incident on Babylon 5." He seemed to pause a moment with gritted teeth as if expecting something, but after a moment, Londo carried on, "It was not authorized by my government, and I would ask . . . ."

"As I said," Sheridan set his jaw. "This is a courtesy communication. I'm not here to debate the facts with you. Our investigation is complete. In light of your government's ongoing support of terrorist activities, the Alliance will expand sanctions against the Centauri, its holdings, and its colonies. Sanctions will now include an expanded list of prohibited materials, and increased duty tariffs on all Centauri goods. In addition, as I am sure you know by now, Centauri diplomatic personnel are now declared personna non grata on all Alliance stations and outposts. Any remaining Centauri diplomats will be expelled by the end of the week. The Alliance is actively weighing all other options."

Sheridan's last words froze Londo in place. "I am asking you, Mr. President, to do a deep telepathic scan of these men. It will verify our innocence in this matter . . . ."

Sheridan stared at the ceiling for a moment. "We both know this transmission is being recorded, and I'm sure you will have it on your news networks before the morning commute to show your protests and your innocence, but you know full well that we cannot violate the defendants' rights by doing a deep scan."

Sheridan took a deep breath before he continued, "I hope you know what you are doing, Londo, because it is going to start another war - a war that will be costly for everyone." Sheridan motioned for the signal to be cut, and he stared at the screen, shaking his head.

Delenn stepped out of the shadows toward Sheridan, "John, I can't fathom Londo ordering such a thing. Do you think it is possible that he might be telling the truth?"

"It's Londo," Sheridan shook his head, "I'm not sure he knows when he is telling the truth anymore. Anyway, there are two separate confessions. All the Centauri on the station were conveniently called away to a festival before the bombing, and, most strikingly, he sent his own transport vessel to Babylon 5 to escort his diplomatic staff off the station just before the explosion. I don't see how it can get any clearer than that."

"When he visited us last year," Delenn thought back to the gift Londo had given them in honor of their son and the warm conversation that had followed, as if they had been transported back to the station years before, "I would not have thought it possible that he could do such a thing."

Sheridan looked at Delenn with frustration, "I wouldn't have thought it either - but I think we have to face the fact that the Londo we knew is dead. Or perhaps we never really knew him at all." Sheridan grabbed his papers and turned to talk to his staff who were waiting with updated reports.

Delenn folded her hands, glancing back at the monitor from where Londo's image had disappeared, and her heart ached at the events that had brought them to such a rift. They were deep blows, both politically and personally, and she grieved for the loss of the lives on the station, as she grieved for the loss of a friend.

Sheridan's image blinked out, and Londo waited where he stood, lost in thought for a moment. The room had remained hushed, but at last he turned and instructed, "Convene the War Council."

Minister Wesa turned on his heel, snapping orders to Plancho and the other aides to open the War Council chambers and to locate and retrieve the Lord High Admiral and the Lord High General for the meeting as soon as possible.

Londo directed a few staff with orders, and he made his way to the door. Timov had been watching the proceedings aghast, and she put a hand on his elbow. "Londo," she said quietly to him, "you can't seriously be thinking of using military force at a time like this?"

Londo turned toward her grimly. "The Alliance is going to strike us in the coming days in retaliation for the bombing. President Sheridan made his intention to strike clear."

Vir had watched the exchange with wide eyes. "But, Londo, if you put our forces on alert, it will appear as if we are guilty to the Alliance."

Londo nodded, "Yes, Vir, but they have already judged our guilt, and there is nothing more we can do about that now - once the death of personality is complete, we will have no ability to prove our innocence. And if we are not prepared for retaliatory strikes, more of our people will needlessly die." He motioned toward Timov. "It is late. See Timov back to her quarters for me before the War Council meets."

As Timov began to protest, Londo turned toward her, "This is no place for you right now." At that, he left Vir and her guards to escort Timov to her quarters as he turned back to the preparations being made for the early hours meeting.

There were no less than four strikes on targets in the next 24 hours, all of them on Centauri military outposts. The Centauri held their own, although they suffered a number of casualties. The next morning, Londo addressed the Centauri public in an emergency address, forcibly arguing that the Centauri were innocent in the explosion on Babylon 5 and decrying the inability of the Centauri to prove their case under the IA's rules, and the people responded, voicing their support for Centauri isolationism in light of the continuing unjust treatment at the hands of the IA.

The death of personality was swiftly carried out for the two Centauri prisoners, a deep scan having been ruled out by courts as being against their rights, but protests swept the Centauri Republic against the IA. Although all young Centauri men of commoner or noble status served in the national armed forces for at least four years, the next days and weeks saw a marked increase in the re-enrollment of soldiers or the voluntary extension of their subscription agreements, and the Centaurum lowered the minimum age to enlist. The ranks of the Centauri Republic's military machine swelled with nationalistic pride, and the Centaurum transferred wartime power to the Emperor, allowing him to bypass their supermajority veto if he declared a wartime emergency.

In the next cabinet meeting, Minister Palazzo announced the newly revealed list of enhanced tariffs and increased sanctions. "The IA claims the new list of sanctions only has illicit drugs and weapons grade compounds on it."

Timov glanced from Palazzo to the extensive list before her, pages of newly embargoed items intended to crush the Centauri's growing military aspirations and as vengeance for the Babylon 5 explosion. Her breath caught as she saw one in particular. She thought of the diminishing liquid in the vial safely tucked away in her vanity, and trepidation seized her hearts.

"But," Palazzo gestured wildly, "The economic sanctions announced by the IA," he rose, flapping a list in the air, "includes several compounds required in MEDICINE!"

The cabinet ministers angrily banged on the table to Timov's chagrin, and she raised her gavel, but they quieted themselves at her gesture.

"You have the list before you," Minister Palazzo interrupted the chorus of condemnation. "And many of the synthetic compounds are used in military applications. We have two separate problems - one of the supply of natural resources used in these compounds and one of brainpower needed to reproduce the synthetic combinations. We will need to find alternative supplies and fund our scientific academies if our military is to survive these sanctions."

"Prepare a list of any mines we may need to reopen as a result," Londo said grimly, "and a list of suppliers. You will provide me with all available options - such as black market suppliers, vulnerable outposts or planets, or uninhabited worlds that we may use to find the raw materials. "We will," he motioned to Palazzo, "find money in the Treasury for our scientific labs to ensure we can create the needed compounds."

"I would suggest eliminating the civil services and social security programs offered to underperforming Centauri, and a redirection of the funds to more . . . urgent matters. Everyone will need to pull their weight if we are to survive the onslaught by the IA," Palazzo responded.

Londo's brow darkened, and he said nothing for a moment, but finally he grumbled, "I will take it under advisement. You will prepare a list of all available options."

Palazzo bowed in acquiescence, and straightened again, "There is the small matter of copyright on a number of the synthetic compounds," he stated. "The Ministry of Agriculture and Economy would suggest that in light of our new circumstances, the Centauri Republic rescind any multi-lateral agreements concerning these compounds, terminating our international obligations with respect to any claimed copyrights."

"Prepare the order," Londo instructed decisively. "And use our contacts, wherever they might be located, to uncover any proprietary trade secrets we may need to reproduce the synthetic compounds."

Timov waited to ensure Londo was done before she turned back to the cabinet, "The chair recognizes Minister Wesa."

"Majesty," Wesa rose with a nod. "Two additional matters for your awareness. There have been growing incidents across Centauri Prime, our colonial holdings, and outposts involving aliens."

Everyone was aware of the increasingly troubling incidents which had found aliens gruesomely killed by Centauri, angry at the IA's treatment of their country. Vigilantes had erected makeshift pikes with alien heads on them, leaving them in the countryside as a warning to other aliens.

"After extensive consultation with the other ministers and our aides," Wesa continued, "we would suggest deporting all aliens from Centauri holdings." Wesa rocked back, awaiting the Emperor's response. "For their safety, of course," he added.

Timov glanced at Minister Palazzo, the xenophobic minister was heartily signaling his approval, no doubt the mastermind behind such a suggestion.

"Yes," Londo sighed, "for their safety." He rubbed his weary eyes before looking up with a nod, "This issue is a complicated one, for we have a number of races within our jurisdiction."

Timov held her breath, confident her husband would not capitulate to the wave of xenophobia gripping the country.

"But in light of the IA's actions, I fear this sentiment will grow," Londo continued. "All aliens will leave Centauri holdings with the exception of those who have been granted legal status within the Centauri Republic by contract or by citizenship. There will be a two week amnesty period to allow any remaining aliens free passage to space outside our borders."

"Majesty," Palazzo jumped to his feet. "How will we know that an alien has a valid legal status? Our internal forces must know who they may arrest and deport and who may stay. How will we know a valid slave from a illegal alien? I suggest it would simply be easier if all aliens were deported immediately, forfeiting their holdings in Centauri space . . . ."

Londo's face hardened, "Then they will carry their papers or a mark denoting their status upon them. And those that do carry such papers or such a mark will be protected by the full weight of the Centauri military. If," he turned to Wesa, "any further murders of citizen or slave aliens within our boundaries occur, you will give orders to our to pursue the perpetrators to the fullest extent of the law."

Timov noticed Vir's face had drained of color as he stared at Londo, his mouth hanging open at the Emperor's orders ousting aliens. His mouth snapped shut as he seemed to realize his face was telegraphing his every thought, and he met the Empress's eye for a moment, shock evident in his face.

Palazzo frowned, but he acquiesced before making one last suggestion. "The threat of execution of these . . . illegal aliens, Majesty, is much more likely to see immediate action from them than the threat of mere deportation. I personally have spoken with a majority of the members of the Centaurum, and they have indicated their preference for execution." He paused, the hint of a smile curling the edge of his lips. "They would not wish to openly challenge Your Majesty on this point, but they have indicated it is important enough that they would do so with a supermajority vote. In light of this, it would prudent to announce a policy in line with their wishes, rather than the political spectacle such a disagreement with the Centaurum would cause."

Londo did not move, but he stared at Palazzo, his jaw clenched. "On pain of execution then," his voice was strained, and Palazzo again nodded his acquiescence.

Wesa turned to Timov, patiently awaited her approval to proceed to the next issue. Receiving it, Wesa said, "Lastly, Majesty, a virulent disease has been detected on Earth. The humans have already moved to place the entire system under quarantine. Our intelligence reports suggest that the Drakh, one of the former Shadow allies, is behind the plague. Earth is extending the quarantine to all infected or potentially infected areas. We would suggest complying with the quarantine. Our forces believe the plague quite resilient and quite deadly."

Timov glanced at Londo, and she could see the shock on his face. ""Eh," he regained himself, "send out the prohibited coordinates to our ships. For now, we will comply with the quarantine."

"The humans have asked," Wesa gestured toward the display of earth rotating on the cabinet chambers' monitor, "that we send any available information that may assist them with a cure."

Timov again turned to Londo for his decision, and he did not respond for an extended period of time.

"Send them nothing," he said quietly, at last.

Timov saw Vir sharply inhale from where he was standing near the door, his face still aghast, but Londo's continuing words caught her attention.

"The humans deny our people medicine," Londo grimly pointed to the new sanctions, "then they shall reap the same reward from us."