A/N: It took me a long while, but here it is. A gift for you, in the hope it might help in the difficult times we're all living in.


Chapter 7: The Players, part IV

Delenn put the breather mask on and knocked on Kosh's door. It didn't open, but she was determined. She knocked again, and after a few more seconds without a reply, she knocked a third time. She wouldn't leave without talking to him. The Vorlon didn't keep the same hours as most other people on Babylon 5, so she knew he wasn't asleep.

She was about to knock a fourth time when the door finally opened. He was in his encounter suit, but was facing away from the door. There was a palpable tension in the air. She entered and saluted him, but he still ignored her.

"I must speak with you," she said. "The new ambassador has been to my quarters this afternoon, and I don't understand."

After a moment, he finally turned to her, head tilted up, with his eyehole nearly closed. She waited, but he said nothing. He wasn't even facing her directly, turned slightly towards the door instead.

"I don't understand," she repeated. "I tried to talk to you earlier, but you weren't available. Who is he? He knows more than he should. He asked about us. I didn't say anything, but I believe he got something anyway."

His eye-hole opened and contracted, and that was all of his reaction. Perhaps he was angry, she thought.

"I'm sorry," she said, afraid she'd done something she shouldn't. He still didn't say anything, but his eye-hole expanded somewhat. No, he didn't seem angry. Distracted, maybe.

After a few moments of silence, he nodded, turned fully towards her, and finally said, "He's the approaching storm. You should not try to stop him."

"T-the storm? Is he aligned with the enemy?"

"No!" Kosh boomed, then stepped back slightly, as if regretting his explosion. "He's the Storm," he stressed. "He comes. If you resist, he'll break you. You must bend, not break. He's the third edge."

She didn't understand. She frowned, and observed the Vorlon before her, trying to get some hint of the meaning of his words. He was acting different from what she was used to. Weird. Instead of the pervasive calm she'd always felt in his presence, now there was a brittleness to his attitude. She began to doubt. Maybe he didn't know as much as he'd like her to believe.

"He asked about the war with the Humans. About Valen. And about you. About us." She waited for a moment, but there was no reaction. "He knows. What does he know? What should I tell?" She asked, but Kosh contracted his eyehole and tilted his head away again.

Frustrated with his silence, Delenn turned to pace in the small room, but after a single step, she caught herself. She's been in the company of Humans for too long, she mused, long enough to acquire some of their quirks. She breathed deeply to center herself, and turned again towards the Vorlon, who was plainly ignoring her. His answers were cryptic as always, and she knew it was pointless to insist with those questions. But she wasn't finished yet.

"Is he dangerous?" Wrong question. Of course the Gallifreyan was dangerous. "Why is he here?" Kosh's eyehole seemed to contract slightly, but if she hadn't been looking for it she'd have missed it. "What does he want?" It was dangerous to provoke the Vorlon, but when he didn't visibly react, her worry grew inside her chest.

She stood there for a few minutes, barely moving beyond her slow breaths, waiting to see if Kosh would say something else. Sometimes all she needed was a bit of patience. He hadn't dismissed her yet, so there was still hope. But her chest felt constricted, in spite of her breathing exercises. The breather mask didn't help.

She was aware her growing doubts had been seeded by the Gallifreyan ambassador's words, but she couldn't help it. She didn't know how, but the instinctive reverence she always felt in the presence of any Vorlon, and especially Kosh, had now practically disappeared. Maybe it was also because Kosh was unusually absorbed with his own thoughts. His presence was always felt more intensely when he was focusing on her. Now, she could even wonder what was so special about him and the Vorlons in general.

She hadn't forgotten about the Enemy, and their threat to all that's good and sane. But her lack of knowledge about the Grand Plan had never bothered her as much as it did now, looking at the one who was supposed to have all the answers. Maybe he was as afraid as she herself was. Maybe he was even more afraid.

Finally, Kosh turned towards her and approached, looking like he always did, and a shiver rippled down her spine. She was aware her thoughts bordered on treasonous, and that the Vorlons were at least a little telepathic. She'd never been truly afraid of him, but she couldn't help it now. However, before she could say anything, his eyehole expanded, and a calming, comforting feeling, a fond acceptance, filled her being. It felt like a hug, and she relaxed in its embrace.

"Delenn," Kosh's voice whispered, followed by a long series of musical notes that were left untranslated. She couldn't remember the last time he'd called her by her name, but that didn't bother her right now. He continued looking at her for a moment, then asked, "What did The Doctor ask you to do?"

Surprised, she stared at him, but it was clear what Kosh was asking. "He wants me to call him when I'm ready. He wants me to tell him everything."

Kosh nodded. "Do it," he said. "Do not oppose him. Do not be afraid."

She frowned, suspicious. It made no sense. If she, they, could trust the Gallifreyan, the Vorlon would have said that, but that wasn't what he was saying.

"What should I tell him?" She asked.

"Everything," Kosh rumbled.

"Everything? But, but then he could tell the Humans..."

"Everything," he boomed, and his voice reverberated. "He has the right to know," he continued, softly now. "Do not hide anything. Answer all his questions."

"A- All right," she said, but she was far from reassured. "But the moment of change is approaching. When should I seek him?"

"When it is time," Kosh said, then whispered, "When you are ready." His eyehole contracted, then, and he turned towards the door. "Go. Go now. Prepare yourself."

She bowed her head and retreated.


The child left his quarters, and Kosh stayed there, looking at the door, long after she'd left. He'd been too worried earlier to receive her, too uncertain. But she'd insisted, and he relented. He'd always had a soft heart for his charges.

It was a new feeling, uncertainty. He'd been hiding. The long discussions with the others had left him disturbed. They trusted him to stay in the path, and resist the Time Lord. He was good at guiding the younger races. But he was no longer certain of the path.

Delenn had faced the Time Lord alone, even though she didn't know what he was. Her attitude both inspired and ashamed him. He would have been afraid for her, if he hadn't been so unsettled himself.

The child was growing more independent, more autonomous. It was partly the Time Lord's doing, it was clear, but he couldn't bring himself to stifle her growth. She'd leave him, he knew, and it wouldn't be long now. But he wasn't sad, or angry. He was happy, for her. He hoped she'd find and follow her own path. The others wouldn't understand, but she was his child. Maybe letting her go would save her from the Time Lord's interest. That was what mattered in the end. She shouldn't be destroyed with everyone else.

His people had been inflexible, and his orders were clear. He'd argued with them, but now he was bound by their collective decision. It unsettled him deeply, though. He disagreed with their attitude and their reasoning. What could he do? What he had to do was to avoid having her, and others, pay the price for his cowardice. Had he called the Doctor as soon as he'd arrived, she might not have attracted his attention. But he himself hadn't felt ready to face the Time Lords' envoy.

He called the Doctor once Delenn left. The message had been received. There was no need for a reply. He only had to wait, now.


After his talk with Delenn, the Doctor had taken some time to review what he'd learned today. It was late, and he doubted the last ambassador he still had to meet, G'Kar, would reply to his invitation before the next morning. He'd already decided to come to Kosh in the dead of night when his message arrived. It was a long walk to Kosh's quarters, and the corridors were empty.

He'd been surprised that not only Sinclair, but also his two main subordinates, both Garibaldi and Ivanova, were important to the future. The Observatory had given him the lay of the likeliest timelines, but only in person he could sense the connection of each individual to the possibilities. He was aware that Sinclair was crucial, he was connected to the time loop, though the details were still fuzzy. That was something he didn't want to mess with. Things were already difficult and delicate enough without having a paradox thrown in the midst.

He was curious about the Minbari. He'd pegged them as Vorlon puppets, but his meeting with Delenn had shown him that they were more than that. She was a focal point, the same as Sinclair, an individual whose decisions would shape the future. From the way she'd stood before him, she had a strength he could admire. It wasn't mere subservience to the Vorlons, she truly believed in the cause of her side of the story. So the Doctor decided that a less confrontational attitude would be warranted in the future.

And there were the Centauri. Ambassador Mollari had proved himself to be a surprisingly likable individual. There were dark shadows in his past and future, yes, as well as in his Republic. They'd been conquerors, and oppressed many, including the Narn. There was little in the recorded timelines about the Narn, though there were indications that there could be more to them than could be seen at first glance. He'd have to keep an eye on both.

He recalled Mollari's assertion that he should find an assistant. Nah, he thought. Unnecessary. Besides, no Time Lord or Gallifreyan would come to help him. He could get a Human to assist him, but that would put them in the midst of a cruel and deadly game. He didn't want to risk anyone's life again.

Now, before he could plan his next steps, he needed to know how the Vorlons decided to see his interference. Would they actively oppose him? He hoped not, at least not for a while. Kosh had seemed reasonable enough, and he was one of the leaders of his own kind, but the Doctor was under no illusion that the other leaders would be happy to have an outsider sniffing around their business. At least, the Vorlons tended to be extremely conservative and cautious. Maybe that would be enough to convince them to wait and see what he'd find in his 'investigation', before considering any rash actions.


It was late, and most of the Humans were asleep. The Time Lord was coming. Kosh waited, impatiently. Restlessly. Terrified.

A flash. A vision. He'd been plagued by them, for years now. But this one was different. A huge dark grey cloud. A cold, dense nebula, deep in space, impenetrable to sensors. Lightning from nascent stars flashed within.

He blinked, back in his quarters. An ominous vision. What is to come, he wondered.

He waited. Then another vision. A Human approached. No. The Time Lord. He shone with terrible light. Kosh asked, ['Who are you?']. And the Time Lord asked him back, ['Who are you?'] He shuddered, as the vision dissipated. Had he lost his way?

He'd argued with the others, but they wouldn't move. He knew a dark future was ahead. He'd known it for centuries now. Millennia. But at this moment, it was much worse. He was the oldest. The others looked up to him, but they'd grown tired of his fears.

The Time Lords reigned over Time. It was their domain. His people shouldn't have meddled with it. But Kosh had grown afraid. They'd been about to lose, he knew it. So he'd meddled. He'd convinced the others to meddle. They'd been happy to, they'd also been aware of the danger.

The other First Ones had left them alone when they realized what their plans entailed. They wouldn't stop the Vorlons, but they wouldn't stand by their side either, so most chose to leave. Very few remained, but even those were ignoring them now. It was inevitable. They'd grown impatient, and disinterested in the Cause. But none of the First Ones had ever really thought the Time Lords would come knocking about the old Compact. The Vorlons had kept their meddling as quiet, and as separate from themselves, as they could. The Time Lord's arrival had surprised everyone. But now the Vorlons were confident. Not him, Kosh. He'd never been more afraid in his life.

He'd hoped the Time Lord would leave. He still hoped he'd give him the chance to redeem himself, his people. It was his guilt, and it weighed heavily on him. But the others didn't care, and Kosh was divided between his fear and the demands the others placed upon him. Had he lost his way? Had them?

A knock on the door. "Enter," he whispered, and the door opened.

The Time Lord. He'd put on the breather, from the shelf outside his quarters, available to all visitors for surviving in his native atmosphere, but once inside, he removed it. He didn't need it. He wasn't Human.

"You called," the Doctor said.

"Yes."

The Doctor stood there, waiting, face blank, until Kosh couldn't stand it any longer.

"The others won't accept. You must not interfere," the Vorlon said. The Time Lord continued standing, silent, as if frozen.

Kosh suddenly had another vision. Many other faces, superimposed upon the one he was seeing. He realized they really didn't know, or understand, the Time Lords. Unlike the First Ones in this galaxy, they made a point of looking like one of the younger races. He idly wondered why they'd chosen Humans to look like, but it didn't matter. The Vorlons, and Shadows, and the others, they all looked great, terrible, to the young ones. They commanded respect, reverence, even fear. The Time Lords didn't. Why not?

He was now completely sure it was a mask, and that the Time Lords were unfathomably different from what they'd imagined. The one before him, for instance, he, they, had been many others before. They'd done terrible things.

"I am sorry," Kosh sang, in his own language. The translator did its best, but there was no way to convey the immensity of his feelings in the limited verbal language he had to use in order to communicate. There were no words to express the depth of his regrets, the existential conflict he was in. But the other seemed to understand anyway. They nodded. Perhaps they did understand the nuances of his language.

"And you?" The Storm asked. "What will you do?" But it wasn't a question. Kosh could hear the harmonies of his own language underneath. Some type of telepathy, he understood, completely different from his own. He didn't know how the other managed it, but they could understand each other. And the Time Lord had chosen a little-used variant of the Vorlons' theme, placing the usual 'who are you' existential question in the dynamic of time, implying it was now Kosh's own choice.

He understood. This was not about redemption, or forgiveness. The Time Lord would do as they must, and their judgment would come to the Vorlons anyway. All Kosh could do, should do, was to be faithful to who he was.

Kosh nodded. He felt alone, but now he wasn't afraid any more. He was free. Free from a nightmare that had lasted way too long.


Even before he knocked at the door to the Vorlon's quarters, the Doctor had felt the timelines shifting. He'd stopped in the anteroom, wary, before proceeding. Whatever it was, he'd deal with it. But as they started talking, he slowly understood. And froze, cold dread filling his hearts.

Kosh was a very strong focal point, one that had been in play for many millennia. He'd already sensed that. But the Doctor's presence here was catalysing something unexpected at this moment in time. The Vorlon probably wasn't fully aware of the fact, but for a while now he'd been about to make a decision that would change the future of this galaxy. The Doctor had learned as much from the Observatory's records. All that was needed were the right circumstances.

And this talk with him was it. The Doctor shivered. Kosh had already made his decision, from the moment he mentioned the other Vorlons, though he wasn't aware of it yet, much less its repercussions. But the Doctor was. He'd seen Kosh's path leading to the future. A path that, originally, would lead to his death, but now, because it was triggered too early, that future was in flux. It was beautiful, exhilarating, history in the making. And terrifying, because he was now trapped inside it. It was his own presence triggering it. The Doctor was no longer someone trying to watch and influence things from the margins. He was a player now.

He knew it'd happen eventually. He'd come in prepared for that. But not so soon after his arrival. He hadn't even learned all that was happening yet, and from the inside it was that much more difficult to see things clearly.

"I am sorry," Kosh said. The Doctor wasn't sure if the Vorlon realized what had just happened. Possibly, he mused. The Vorlons had a touch of time-sensitivity themselves. The older one was, the more they could sense. And Kosh was ancient. He certainly softened his attitude, and it was reflected in the atmosphere of the room, induced by the Vorlon's telepathic projection. It'd been like experiencing a crash in slow motion. No, not a crash, the opposite. A crystallization, a piece falling in the right place and causing everything else to rearrange around it in a new pattern. Everything was different now. With the Doctor right in the middle of it.

"And you? What will you do?" He asked, because he had to. He had to swim with the current, or be dragged by it, kicking and screaming until he drowned. Very few Time Lords had ever experienced it, but this was old hat for him. He internally shrugged, he'd have time to fall to pieces later, in the privacy of his own room.

Kosh nodded, and proceeded to tell him all the plans on the side of Order. That was probably what the other Vorlons were expecting him to do, but not perhaps in the way he was doing it. The Vorlon ambassador's opinion about the plans of his people could be heard in the tone of his voice and his choice of words. The Doctor understood. This Vorlon and him, they had something in common, something that made both different, separate from their respective kinds. Kosh cared.


After the Time Lord finally left, Kosh felt drained, his tiredness mixed with relief. He wondered what he'd do next. He'd told the Storm all of their plans, all of their knowledge, shared their dreams and hopes, while the other listened without judgment. It had been expected of him, some of this sharing at least. After all, the others had ordered him to warn off the Time Lord from interfering with their plans. He himself doubted any of them could stop the Storm if they set their mind to something.

He didn't know what the Doctor was going to do with all that information, but it didn't matter now. The Doctor had only told him to go ahead with closing the time loop. Of course, breaking it now would be more problematic than letting it complete. It also gave him hope that the Storm wasn't completely indifferent to the fate of the younger ones. He knew it was weak of him, but he'd grown rather fond of some of them. Sometimes he even regretted how much they suffered because of him.


When the Doctor finally arrived at the door to his quarters, he felt his TARDIS singing in his mind, and quickly ran inside. There she was, sitting in the corner of the small bedroom. He rushed into the console room, curious to see what had delayed her moving in from the courier ship. After all, it'd been one of the first things he'd done when unpacking that day, his planting the beacon marking the spot he'd chosen for her, so she could easily move in by herself. And there it was, in one screen, the timeline configuration that resulted from his talk with Kosh. She'd probably felt it before it happened, and waited until it had stabilized before moving, to avoid interfering with the delicate configuration. He should have guessed it. He was still part of that timeline, so he couldn't be certain, but it was shaping up like a nascent fixed point, even more so because a Time Lord was involved.

He sighed. Not even a full Earth day from the moment he arrived, and he was already in deeper than he ever intended to be. Part of a fixed point. They'd be laughing at him in the Capitol.

There were reasons Time Lords weren't supposed to interfere, and this was one of them. Whenever they meddled, they tended to make things harder, or even impossible, for others to fix later if necessary. But he'd never been the cause for a fixed point before, from what he could remember. Anyway, the High Council had passed him the responsibility, and they wouldn't care. If he messed things up, he'd only have himself to blame. They might arrest him later, throwing him in the darkest, deepest cell, and that would only be the smallest part of what he'd deserve.

He sat in the pilot's chair, and removed the diminutive filters from each nostril, putting them back inside an inner pocket. They'd supplemented his respiration bypass, so he could stay in that nasty Vorlon atmosphere without ill effects for long enough. He'd thought that might have been necessary, facing the Vorlon without the breather mask, in case he felt the need to project his Oncoming Storm face, to bluff and convince the Vorlon to let him 'investigate'.

Instead, he now had a Vorlon ambassador halfway convinced to side with him against his own people. He was not certain if it was worth the mess. But he doubted he could have prevented it from happening.

The silent reverberations of the settling timelines were combining with the crushing realization of the responsibility upon his shoulders, and for a brief moment they seemed about to overcome his defenses. He trembled, but then three little lights started to blink in the console before him, attracting his attention and dispelling his somber mood.

"What is it, Old Girl?" He stood, worried, and clicked buttons and flipped switches, attempting to diagnose what was wrong. "Oh. Oh, the secondary hyperdimensional grid is out of alignment! That's bad! Why haven't you warned me earlier?" He scolded the console, but his smile and the glint in his eyes betrayed his true sentiments. He briefly caressed the console, before jumping down to gather his tools to do some very well-timed repairs.


A/N: I don't usually replay the same conversation from a different perspective, but here, between the Doctor and Kosh, I had to replay a small piece of it, because their perspectives are so different, and because it's such a crucial moment for both of them. Yes, it came way too soon, and yes, not even I was expecting it so early.
There'll be at least one more, most likely two, chapters dealing with the immediate aftermath of the Doctor's arrival on Babylon 5, before we move on with a short original adventure.

Thank you Drachasor and Guest for your reviews! Thank you, Drachasor, Fandog86, heavyneos, Razell, Antt1995, for favoriting, and thank you all that are following this fic!