In the days and weeks that followed, G'Kar watched the Emperor's behavior closely, seeing Mollari's desolation over the recent events with his family. As he watched Mollari numbly brooding and drinking away his time, G'Kar wondered how long the Emperor had been in the spiral of depression. Upon hearing from Emanio that the Emperor seemed to be more lively since his arrival, G'Kar became even more concerned, and he considered the sag in Mollari's shoulders and the long years that Mollari's spirit had been crushed under the hand of the Drakh. It was time, G'Kar decided, to do something about it.

"Do you remember," G'Kar asked Londo that evening, "our last conversation? Before I came back?"

Londo sipped his brivari in silence before answering reluctantly. "Of course I remember it. I've often wondered if I should have pulled you from the wreckage after we were attacked – I rather think you would have liked being a martyr. Especially here – on Centauri Prime."

G'Kar snorted, shaking his head, "Do you remember that you prayed for me? For my future?"

"Perhaps you do not understand as much as you think," G'kar remember Mollari's words upon the occasion of their last meeting. "Pray, that you never do, G'Kar. Pray that you never truly understand."

"I—" Mollari's eyes widened.

G'Kar returned Mollari's earnest stare. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your prayers were not answered."

Londo blinked twice. "So," he coughed, "that is why you have come back to Centauri Prime?" He waited a moment before added, "to taunt me because I was wrong?"

G'Kar knew Mollari understood the significance of his words – and that he was trying to cover any part of their conversation that the Drakh might understand. "As good of a reason as any," G'Kar inclined his head with a smile. "Besides, I needed better dinner companions. It is rather tiresome to have followers hanging on my every word, begging for philosophical tidbits at every turn. But I know you don't listen to anyone, let alone me, so it seemed the perfect respite from my life on Narn."

Now it was Mollari who snorted good-naturedly, before his face turned serious. "I wish you had not come," he said candidly. "And yet," he swallowed hard, "I am glad of your presence."

Senna had been shocked and delighted by Timov's presence at the Great House, but she was dismayed by the Empress's sudden physical deterioration as soon as her daily injections stopped. Although the Emperor had been able to save Timov's life, he could not arrange for her injections to be sent from the palace to House Mollari without raising the Drakh's suspicion, and with the supply of dexycylodox being impossibly difficult to come by, the Empress's ability to manage the pain of her condition continued to deteriorate at an alarming rate.

"I'll bring back the supply from the palace," Senna begged Timov to let her take the supply being stockpiled in her absence.

"No," Timov said, a finger resting on her temple. "It would place a great many people in jeopardy. I will manage without it."

But the Empress was clearly affected by the absence of her injections, for almost as soon as she had arrived at the Great House, her energy had waned and her step had slowed, and now, Senna found her resting in bed most of the day, her usual enthusiasm for diligence and promptness flagging.

"Thank you for staying with me," Timov told Senna. "It means a great deal to me."

"Of course," Senna squeezed her adopted mother's hand, "I wish you'd let me get your injections. It is . . ." she teared up, "difficult to see you in such pain – especially when it is treatable. I don't know who to blame – the gods, or the Interstellar Alliance, or Papa."

Timov thought for a moment before she replied. "You cannot retrieve the injections, but you should return to the palace, if only to make amends with Londo."

Senna twisted her hands and looked out the window at the manicured lawn of House Mollari. "I thought I had forgiven him years ago for what he did to my birth father, but what he did to you – what I thought he had done to you - just brought up all these old memories and feelings."

Timov patted her hand, "Londo has perfected the ability of inducing exasperation in others. Trust me – I know it well," she smiled. "But forgiveness is not a landmark you arrive at, especially not in matters such as these, it is a path that you take. Londo is an imperfect man, Senna, but he does love you dearly."

"I suppose you are right, and it is time to tell him the news as well," Senna nodded. "And maybe you need a spy in the palace?" She broke into a smile.

Timov raised a finger in warning. "Neither Londo nor I want you staying in the palace permanently, Senna. Now I understand why he was at his wits end trying to keep us away from the palace, and I feel much the same now that I know the danger that lurks inside its walls. I do not want you staying there, especially now."

Senna smiled sadly, "Of course. I will just check in on him periodically. He mentioned when we were travelling to the Sea Palace that perhaps I could look after the Deradi children from time to time. After what happened to Traco, their mothers have shied away from the palace."

Timov's face turned grim at the thought of Traco's murder. "As long as they have a chaperone and are never left alone within the palace walls."

"Of course," Senna agreed. "Besides," her face brightened, "it seems I will need the practice."

Timov clasped Senna's hands, her face brightening. "At last," she said, "we have a little something to look forward to."

Senna smiled, patting her tummy, "A very little something."

Palco grasped the message tighter in his gloved hand. He knew the Emperor would wish to see it immediately, and he made his way to Londo's office.

Seeing Palco's tense face, Londo waved him in. "Yes, what is it, Palco?"

"Majesty," he said breathlessly, "Princess Senna has returned."

It had been more than a month since her angry words after she thought Timov had been killed, and Londo immediately ordered the room cleared of his advisors, except G'Kar. "Bring her here," he instructed Palco.

Senna appeared in the doorway, and Londo immediately rose. "Senna," he said, sweeping his hand toward the room, inviting her in.

Senna twisted her hands nervously before her, trying to find the right words. "What happened . . . I have given it some thought, and I—" Senna's words faltered her. "—I received some council as well. What is done is done, and I don't want it to cause a wedge between us when you are the only family that I have left."

Londo crossed the room to her side. "I don't want it to cause a wedge between us, either," he told her softly. "I was angry, and I let it get the best of me."

"I know that you have to look after the country, and sometimes I disagree with what you do, but I know that the Empress would forgive you—"

"Oh?" Londo said, "I don't know about that. She wouldn't let something as transient as the veil of death prevent her from getting her revenge."

"Papa," Senna glared at his remark before returning to the matter at hand, "I thought I had forgiven you for my father's death, but the other day - it brought everything back again. I think I haven't been able to put it entirely behind me because – well, we never really talked about it, did we?"

"What is there to say?" Londo tried to dismiss the topic. "It is in the past."

"I would like the details, Papa. I want to know what happened."

Londo shook his head, "Senna . . . ."

"It is my right to know," she said firmly.

"Mollari was not present," G'Kar interrupted, exchanging glances with Londo, "physically. But I was."

Seeing that G'Kar was going to tell her the story if he did not, Londo held up a hand, resigned, finally, to telling Senna the story. "House Mollari and House Refa were waging war at the time, and it could not continue. The Crown had made it clear that our feud had to end. I knew Lord Refa would try to find out what I had planned to win the favor of the Crown, and he walked into a trap that I had set for him."

"What trap?" Senna asked.

Londo rubbed his eyes with one hand, clearly reluctant to continue. "I told Vir that I was going to have G'Kar captured and executed on Narn. I instructed-" he met G'Kar's disapproving gaze, "-forced Vir to take a story to G'Kar to lure him to the tunnels beneath the Kha'Ri's building on Narn. Lord Refa kidnapped Vir and used a telepath to drag my instructions from Vir's mind. Refa wanted to destroy me by capturing G'Kar – the last of the Kha'Ri - to claim his own victory."

Senna gasped, "You used Vir to capture my father."

"Yes," Londo said matter-of-factly, "because Vir does not know how to lie, and so lying to him made it easier to persuade Refa of my plans."

"I don't understand who to be more angry with - you for what you did or Vir for never telling me his role." Senna sighed, "And anyway, I don't understand," she glanced at G'Kar confusedly, "You said your plan was to kill G'Kar . . . ."

"It is true that G'Kar and I did not end up killing each other," Londo added.

"Not yet, anyway," G'Kar said under his breath.

Ignoring G'Kar's remark, Londo continued, "When Lord Refa found out my plans to have G'Kar captured and executed, he decided to get there and follow through on my plans before I could. What he found, instead of G'Kar's head on a platter, was a horde of Narn angry over Refa's orders to bomb the Narn home world and establish Narn death camps. You see - I had never intended upon killing G'Kar, and I enlisted his help in turning the tables on Refa in the tunnels where he went to capture G'Kar."

Senna turned to G'Kar, horror in her eyes. "You were there, then? At his end?"

G'Kar nodded once. "I was there."

"How did he die?" she asked, holding back her anguish.

G'Kar recalled how Refa had run, the coward, from his fate at the hands of the Narn. He had clawed and scraped and begged, but the Narn crowd had overcome his protests with their knives, extinguishing his life in far less time and agony than he had deserved. "Bravely," G'Kar forced the word from his lips, knowing that the word of kindness would spare the young woman's feelings.

"Did you do it?" she asked G'Kar. "Did you strike a blow against him when he was helpless?"

"Senna-" Londo said in a warning tone.

"No," G'Kar said truthfully. "I did not strike a blow against your father."

Senna sat down, biting her lip as her jaw quivered. "I'm sorry about what he did," she said quietly to G'Kar. "I'm sorry he ordered your people to be killed. I'm sorry he tried to capture you and have you imprisoned and killed. When I was a little girl, I looked up to him, but now, I can see him for what he was, and I can understand why it happened."

"You have no reason to apologize," G'Kar told her. "If anyone should apologize, it is Mollari and I." He glanced at the Emperor. "You have my apology, for what it is worth - though it can be hard to drag an apology from Mollari even under the best of circumstances."

Londo glared at G'Kar before he turned to Senna. "I am sorry, Senna."

Senna stood up again, crossing the room to her adopted father and embracing him at last. "Then we shall leave it, at last, in the past," she told him as she grasped his hand and held G'Kar's hand in her other. She turned to G'Kar. "I do not approve of the hate my birth father harbored for the Narn - due in great part to my education that was overseen by the Empress and the Emperor." She turned back to Londo, "And it is time to tell you both about something in the future."

"Future?" Londo asked.

"It's a long way off, but I thought you'd want to be among the first to know, the doctors detected . . . that is to say . . ." she shrugged with a smile.

Londo's eyes widened, "I am to be a grandfather?" he asked incredulously.

Senna nodded with a smile.

"Does, eh, does . . . Vir know?" Londo asked pensively.

"Of course he knows," Senna shook her head with a laugh. "You are among the first to know, but not the first."

G'Kar slapped Mollari on the back with a grin.

"But eh—" Londo stepped back, staring at Senna. "You must be married at once. The child cannot be born out wedlock. The noble houses are already unhappy, and they will eviscerate—"

"—Papa," Senna gently stopped him. "Of course, Vir and I plan on getting married, but you know how long Centauri gestation is – this baby is a long way off, and we don't want the tabloids and the media to make a circus out of our marriage or this child. Vir wants a small affair – just a few people."

"I don't care what Vir wants. He is not a princess of the Centauri Empire," Londo said with a huff.

"No one would want Vir Cotto to be a princess of the Centauri Empire," G'Kar smirked as Londo shot him an annoyed look.

Senna bit her lip, thinking of Timov. "There are such politics around weddings, Papa. And the security and the guest list would be difficult to manage if it is a royal occasion."

"The guest list?" Londo furrowed his brow. "Yes, I suppose my presence will make it difficult," he said, his shoulders sagging again.

"You don't even like weddings, Papa," Senna gently reminded him.

"No, and it is true that you should have the ceremony performed as soon as possible - we must prevent anything like what happened with Toscaneli." Londo looked at the ground with annoyance before a realization rocked him. "This child," he said, desperation creeping into his words, "if it is a boy—".

"—He would be in the line of succession to the throne once he is of age," G'Kar ascertained as he glanced at Senna.

"It is not a boy," Senna placed her hand on Londo's arm to reassure him. "It is a girl. If Dius Vintari is of eligible age when the throne is once again vacant, he may rest assured that his position is not in jeopardy."

"You are sure?" Londo questioned her closely. "I do not wish the chains of the throne around my grandchild," he said.

"It is a girl," she repeated. "Besides, the statistics of men to women on Centauri Prime should reassure you," she laughed.

Londo seemed relieved at this news, and he grinned. "Well, this birth is some time off, yes?"

"Almost two years, Papa. We've only just found out."

"Well, congratulations to you and Vir," he waved to Palco. "Get Senna a cocktail to celebrate," he instructed.

G'Kar raised his hairless brows, "Is that wise for an expecting mother?"

"Oh please," Mollari said, "Centauri drink in the womb - I can tell you, Centauri are not affected by such things."

Nevertheless, Senna declined the offer and that evening, she left the palace, her hearts full once again.

John Sheridan shoved the reports into the drawer of his desk. The results of the investigation had been inconclusive - or, that was to say - inconclusive in that it left him, General Duval, and David Sheridan as the only people that had confirmed access to the information on the three systems that had been targeted. General Duval was a fine soldier, and Sheridan couldn't imagine it had been him. David had, however, been acting strangely since his birthday.

Sheridan had finally approached his wife with the information, detailing his concerns over David.

"John," Delenn said, her features hardened with worry, "did the report say that anyone else could have had access to the information?"

Sheridan frowned, "we were the only three with confirmed access – but they didn't rule out the possibility that someone else got their hands on it – someone outside authorized channels."

Delenn nodded, "Then we do not have enough information to make accusations about anyone. But I agree with you - David has been acting strangely since his birthday. That isn't necessarily related at all to the leaks of information. But David is coming of age, and there aren't many half-Minbari, half-humans for him to talk to as he goes through the physical and emotional changes required to become an adult." She shook her head, "Even we do not understand what he is going through - and it is not an easy position for a teenager under the most ideal conditions. Perhaps we should look into a Minbari school – the religious caste has many sanctuaries that could provide him with emotional support and training as he goes through his transition into adulthood."

Sheridan sighed and shook his head. "Maybe that would be good for him, but since we don't know exactly what has been going on with him and he has been under a lot of stress, I'd rather we kept him close instead of sending him away."

"We'll talk to him," Delenn agreed. "And take it from there."

From the room next door, David lifted his ear from the wall, glancing at the keeper on his shoulder as he did so.

G'Kar found the solitude of the palace a thankful reprieve from his followers, and he was able start writing again in the quietness of his quarters within the palace. When Londo asked him where he would like his quarters, G'Kar chose the Empress's renovated dungeon quarters, for he knew that there were no cameras or bugs in the suite, and he could freely meet with Vir to talk about the Resistance efforts.

But as the next several weeks passed, G'Kar noticed Londo's memory problems began to intensify, and he relied on the Narn at his side more and more. G'Kar observed that it was taking the Emperor longer and longer to recognize Senna when she periodically visited. And although they never discussed Mollari's worsening memory lapses, clearly the Emperor knew his mind was affecting him because Senna's visits seemed to leave him in a state of despondency for days. But as Londo's memory lapses became more significant, there was something G'Kar couldn't quite put his finger on, and he sometimes wondered if Londo didn't know more than he was letting on.

G'Kar spent considerable time thinking about the aging Emperor's position, and G'Kar was not convinced there would be any easy way out of the situation, but he also knew that Mollari was a social creature, and his isolation – including his memory lapses – were pushing him closer and closer to the abyss. With the knowledge of the Resistance at his back, G'Kar decided it was time to start pushing back at the Drakh, causing them to experience the fear they were so keen on inflicting on others and perhaps inspire a bit of panic within their ranks.

"Mollari," he caught the Emperor's attention one evening when they were alone.

"Hmm?" Mollari grunted as he raised an after-dinner aperitif to his lips.

"We were talking the other week about why I came here," G'Kar's tone immediately caught Londo's attention.

Mollari put down the aperitif at G'Kar's tone and the intensity in his eyes. "G'Kar," he said warningly, "perhaps you have had too much to drink."

"Hardly," G'Kar seemed to stare through him, his red eyes finally coming to rest on Londo's shoulder, about the spot the invisible keeper was burrowed. "I came here because I know about them – about the Drakh."

Londo stood up, overturning his chair. "What are you doing, you fool?!" He crossed the room in two strides, hauling G'Kar up by his lapels. "You don't know what you have done," he cried.

G'Kar continued to gaze at Mollari shoulder but his eyes changed to horror as the keeper finally appeared on Londo's shoulder in front of him.

"So," Shiv'kala appeared soundlessly behind the two men, "You know about us? How did you come by this information?" he hissed.

At the sound of Shiv'kala's voice, Mollari released G'Kar's lapels, and G'Kar locked eyes with the Drakh, having fully expected the Drakh to appear once he addressed them. "On my own."

Shiv'kala's featured cracked into a hollow smile. "Perfect."

"Wait," Londo launched himself between the two, begging Shiv'kala, "you cannot kill G'Kar – he is still the only reason the Narn fleet hasn't fired on our home world. If you kill him, the consequences will be disastrous – for my people and for yours. You know it is true."

Shiv'kala curled his lip. "Angers flare," he said with a hiss. "But eventually they die down. For now, he will live – until his usefulness is done." Shiv'kala sank back into the darkness, disappearing.

"I could have gotten you out of here, if you had given me more time," Londo told G'Kar, his voice ragged. "But now they will never let you leave this place alive."

"There are worse things than dying surrounded by your enemies," G'Kar told him, "but there is nothing worse than dying in solitary confinement."

G'Kar's attempt to rescue his friend from the desolation and loneliness of his existence within the palace and his attempt to knock the Drakh off balance by his admission would have far-reaching consequences. The Drakh did not know whether G'Kar was the only one who knew of their existence on Centauri Prime, but they suspected G'Kar's claim was a lie to appease them, and that fact, along with Sheridan's suspicions over his son placed their carefully laid plans in jeopardy. And so, it was time to harvest the revenge they had been cultivating for a decade and a half...