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 and my beta reader Marianne Todd.

Chapter 7

Saving Face

"No matter how great the loss, it is not our way to let a single clan dictate Minbari policy."

-- Delenn, "Legacies"

- o0o -

Tuzanor, Minbar

Valen looked back at what remained of his attacker's face and lowered his denn'bok. Dimly he became aware that he was holding a screaming David Sheridan, not his dying daughter from long ago and it was David's tears that were soaking his shirt. The only blood was his own and splatters from the assassin.

"How badly are you wounded?" he asked Kordar over the baby's cries. He tried to simultaneously to listen to his reply, check Torsival for signs of life, calm David, not drop his weapon in case of another attack, and call for help on the link. He failed to accomplish any of it.

As he fumbled for his link, the rest of his guards, several Anla'shok and medics came around the corner at a run. The healers went to work at once. To his relief they roused the guard at his feet, while another took David from him. He waved away the healer that moved to examine him. His guards were in bad shape, but to his experienced eye, their wounds now that he could see them did not look immediately fatal. The assassins had taken care to aim for disabling and less potentially lethal wounds. Why they'd restrained themselves from killing other Minbari, obeying a law he instituted, especially as they'd likely participated in the civil war, Valen didn't know. Or perhaps it was because of the civil war that they were taking such care to not kill the guards, perhaps to make a point in their own twisted logic.

"Master, the Anla'shok are removing the impersonator to their base for questioning," Bretann reported. "I must return you to the palace now."

Valen nodded. "Check their wrists for bombs," he ordered as he watched the other assassin's corpse being carried out of the viewing room.

Bretann gestured to another guard to carry the order out and waved two others to accompany him in escorting Valen to his flyer. No one asked why he suspected bombs or why he thought they'd be in their wrists only. They obeyed.

Valen was quiet the entire journey back to Yedor. His guards asked no questions, though Bretann frequently stepped into the cockpit to answer hails. He regretted not insisting that he speak with Sheridan and Delenn before leaving. Though he left feeling certain David was unharmed, by the time they landed doubt had begun to creep in and he replayed the fight over and over in his mind. Could he really be sure he knew exactly what was happening through the pain from being stabbed? Did the assassin's other hand have a weapon he didn't see? Was David bleeding when he handed him over to the healer?

There was nothing he could do about it now and demanding that his guards find out could distract the healers from saving Torsival's and Kordar's lives, as well as David if he were injured. He would receive a full report soon enough.

Several Anla'shok ships accompanied his flyer, likely all the ones that could be prepped fast enough, and many more warrior ships joined the formation along the way. Looking down as they approached the government palace in Yedor, he didn't see any ground vehicles moving. The capital was shut down. On the landing pad was a full platoon of warriors and the few white robes he saw looked adrift in the sea of black uniforms.

To his surprise, the two warrior Satai, Mazik and Shaka were waiting for him. He knew that the entire Grey Council had, for lack of a better term, taken the day off. They spent most of their time in space, so it was common for them to visit their families or friends when on Minbar. That was why he'd taken the opportunity to leave early for his visit to Tuzanor today. There was no one of sufficient rank around who was bold enough to complain or warn the Sheridan family that he'd be there sooner than they expected.

It also was normal in a time of crisis that the council members were kept safe, usually where they were, until it was over. Granted this policy had been used only for natural disasters and a few dangerous outbreaks of illness over the last several centuries, but that didn't stop the warriors from implementing it now, with the exception of the warrior Satai apparently. He didn't want to face them, didn't want to explain or see who knew what kind of look in their eyes. He needed peace and quiet, to be alone and calm down. To pray. Images from the fight wouldn't stop flashing in his mind. He was still on edge and his battle alertness refused to fade.

He ignored their barrage of questions as he stepped out of the flyer. They followed him persistently into the building. Mazik and Shaka were alternately barking orders at those around them and then arguing with each other.

The one thing they agreed on was that this assassination attempt had to be masterminded by aliens. No Minbari in their right mind would try to kill Valen.

"No, this was not an alien plot," Valen corrected them bluntly, interrupting their loud promises of retribution on those responsible.

"They tried to kill you," Shaka countered as if that was all the proof needed that aliens were behind the attack.

"They were after David Sheridan."

"Yet, they did not hesitate to assault you," growled Mazik.

"Because I was protecting their target. They weren't persistent though," he said speculatively. "Either of them could have triggered their suicide bombs the moment they entered the room. The previous assassin never got close enough to be sure of success and he didn't hesitate to commit suicide when he failed. Why didn't these three do the same?"

He ignored their startled expressions and wasn't interested in explaining how he knew it. "Granted," he continued quickly, "the one with the changeling net never got a chance to use his bomb. However, the other two had ample opportunity. So, either they suddenly didn't want to die or they didn't want to kill me."

"Their reasons cannot change what they did."

"Are you seriously going to make the entire Wind Swords clan pay for the actions of a few?"

Valen didn't wait for them to answer, but left them standing in the passageway. There was nothing else he could do or say to them. Belatedly, he realized they probably didn't know yet that the assassins were Wind Swords, but didn't have the energy to deal with it. He dearly needed to clean up and change clothes. His entourage and a few guards trooped after him.

"Master, were you harmed?" a new voice spoke up behind him, rather short of breath as though he'd been running.

"I'm fine."

"The blood –"

"Is the assailant's as well as mine," Valen interrupted, before glancing back at the newcomer to see that he was a medic. The emblem for master healer was embroidered on his tunic. Valen kept walking quickly. "My guards are in more need of your services than I," he said, referring to the trio flanking him. It wouldn't surprise him if they were hiding injuries.

"My assistants can tend to their minor abrasions," he answered in a judgmental tone, as though he considered it contemptible that they'd suffered less than lethal wounds defending Valen. "How much of the blood is yours?"

Valen stopped and turned on him, reining in his frustration to force his voice to remain polite. "You know that I don't have so much as a bruise now. It doesn't matter."

"Yes, you regenerated," the medic answered with a nod, "but how much of the damage was repaired? From the stain pattern and tears to your tunic, I'd say you were stabbed by a clawed glove."

"I was."

"And have you fully healed internally?"

"Yes," Valen answered a little more tersely than he meant to.

The healer was intimidated, but not enough to leave. Instead, he dropped into more formal speech and said, "After a battle, it can take some time for a warrior to notice pain from his wounds. It is difficult for one to be aware of their true extent."

Though he was fed up more with the day in general than the well-meaning medic, Valen turned to the nearest warrior with a dagger sheath and asked, "Your knife, please."

The warrior handed it over to him and Valen used it to stab the center of his own palm. He held his hand up for the healer to see and ignoring the looks of shock on every face, he sliced through muscle, tendon and bone to remove the knife rather than simple pulling it out. The knife hesitated only briefly when it hit the bones before they snapped and his knife was free. Pinkish red blood gushed out and his upper palm and fingers hung grotesquely at an angle away from his thumb and wrist. He stubbornly grit his teeth through the pain.

No one moved to help him or restrain him from attacking himself. They stared at his hand as arcs of electricity bridged the gap and slowly at first pulled the shattered bones together. The bleeding ceased and the entire wound glowed as the rest of the muscles regenerated more rapidly. In a moment's time, the light faded, revealing his unmarred hand. The only evidence that he'd half severed it was his blood soaked cuff clinging to his wrist and the puddle on the floor.

"I am fine," was all Valen said. He returned the blade to its owner and resumed his walk to his quarters. The healer didn't follow this time.

- o0o -

Geneva, Earth

"Methos? How did you get in here?" Catherine Sakai demanded with a glare as she threw open her office door. "And get your feet off my desk."

Methos smirked from his spot lounging in her chair before hastily standing up when she looked ready to knock him out of it. She slammed the door behind her.

"Well?" she insisted.

"I have paperwork for everything."

"You can't fake clearance to get into an Earthforce base."

"I'm aware of that, but thank you for informing me. And might I add that I never suspected you'd rejoin the military, otherwise I would've gotten here days ago. Interesting career choice."

"I re-enlisted after Sheridan took down Clarke. I let them know that I'd been a Ranger, said that I'd left and that the Minbari assumed I was dead. Earthforce was happy to have me."

"I'll bet they were."

"It's not like that," she countered defensively. "You blew my cover, by the way, when you got the Rangers to find me a few weeks ago. That wasn't easy to explain away and my superiors were livid that I had to abort my mission there. The only good thing is they didn't know it was you."

"They don't know what you are, I hope?"

"No. At least, I don't think so. If anyone has noticed I look a bit young for my record, they are turning a blind eye. And you are avoiding answering me. How did you sneak in here?"

"I did not sneak, the soldiers let me in and before you ask yet another obvious question, no they did not recognize me. My perfectly legitimate documentation told them I was Earthforce, they didn't question it."

"I'm sure the lousy haircut and ill-fitting uniform helped," she said sarcastically as she strode across the room to a filing cabinet. "Where did you steal it?"

"The clothes, I can't say, the bad haircut is courtesy of your husband."

"So, you did find him," she stated tensely, pausing in the middle of putting the files back in a drawer. "I wouldn't have thought you'd go yourself."

"You haven't heard?"

"That the Minbari's great leader, Valen, has returned to them? Oh, I heard, it's just not newsworthy, yet. ISN will probably figure it out before the politicians in Earthdome realize they need to gag them." She shut the cabinet drawer and asked quietly, "How was he?"

"A bit gloomy, until the Minbari descended on him. Then I think he was just pissed."

"What are you doing here anyway?" she asked wearily.

"I have a message to deliver."

A mixture of anger, sorrow and pain flickered across her face. She held out her hand wordlessly without looking at him.

"It isn't on a data crystal or paper," he answered shaking his head. "Valen says that he is sorry, he begs you to forgive him. He admits that he was wrong and wishes he could have changed what he did, but he believes that under the circumstances it still would have happened, just by other means. He says that he needs you, that his life is empty without you, that he loves you and will wait forever for you."

She turned to look out the window at the bright sunny day. For several moments, the only sounds were of tree branches brushing against the glass in the breeze and faint birdsong. Methos walked to the door deciding it would be best if he just left.

"Wait."

He stopped and looked at her. She still didn't turn around, but her voice was steady.

"Tell me what you meant by he was 'gloomy,'" she said.

"I just brought a message. I don't know what has happened between the two of you. I'm not here to play marriage guidance counselor."

"I'm not asking you to," she snapped before lowering her voice and saying, "Please just tell me."

"He was miserable. I don’t know what else you want me to say."

"How often did he second guess himself after the Minbari found him?"

"As much as he ever does, I suppose. It's not something I can measure. He didn't want to go with them, but couldn't find a way out of it. Look, whatever he did that drove you away –"

"I thought you weren't going to give marriage advice?" she interrupted sourly. "It's not that, well it is, but it isn't. What I mean is, I need to know if he can handle leading the Minbari again."

"Why don't you ask him that?"

She turned around and gave him an annoyed look. "Don't be silly, I couldn't contact him if I wanted to, the Minbari would never let me," she said. "I'm not explaining this very well. He can't predict the future anymore and I'm worried that he'll return to the way he was a thousand years ago, but –"

"Stop, stop," he interrupted, skeptical and exasperated. "Since when was Valen a seer?"

"He didn't tell you?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. She sighed. "Okay, the short version is that Jeff and I fell through a time distortion just as the most recent Shadow war was starting. It sent us a millennium backwards in time to the middle of the last Shadow war and the Minbari were losing. Badly. Obviously, we both knew what was going to happen. Or rather, Jeff knew a lot about Minbar's history and transformed himself into a Minbari becoming their greatest leader and won the war."

Methos gave her a blank look before muttering, "Well, it's no crazier sounding than Immortals. Go on."

"Knowing the future changed him, made him happy like I'd never seen before. He was a completely different person." She smiled for the first time since she'd walked into her office, but it faded quickly. "Of course he believes he had no choice because he knew it was a way to make what he knew would happen… happen."

"He never seemed all that bad before," said Methos, who was still stuck on the 'different person' part.

"He's good at hiding it. I don't suppose you'd understand. You're not driven by a need to find meaning in your life."

"True. Valen always did seem rather frantic about searching for a purpose in everything. Shouldn't he be glad the Minbari want him to be their king? Isn't that a worthy purpose?"

Catherine gave him wry look, but didn't correct his old fashioned term. "But he isn't glad, is he? That is what worries me. He once thought he'd found a purpose during the Dilgar War, but after it was over he questioned everything he'd done so much he turned all his victories into defeats in his head. To hear Jeff tell it, God saw fit to perform a record breaking number of miracles."

"I've never heard him regret fighting the Dilgar."

"He doesn't. He regrets making it look easy. The Senate hid how narrowly he won some of the battles and covered up his mistakes. Earthforce's growing recklessness scared him and he hated the propaganda."

Methos frowned. "He expected another war?"

"Yes, but not how it happened. He thought Earthgov's expansionism would develop into outright conquest. Turning our neighbors into subjects. Instead, we ran into the Minbari. The way the war started shattered him. He was like a kid who after pulling off a dangerous stunt suddenly realizes how close he came to dying and sees that all the other kids were now going to try the same stupid thing because of his example.

"He believes suicide is wrong, but convinced himself that if he died in the line of duty, then that would be okay. And he didn't stop trying to die after the war. I hope that his immortality wasn't the only reason he failed, that maybe in the middle of those dangerous situations he put himself in a little will to live reasserted itself."

"And that changed once he went to the past."

"Completely. So, I have to wonder how afraid he is to lead Minbar without knowing the future?"

Methos could only look at her, but she didn't seem to really expect an answer from him. Not when he hadn't been aware of the problem.

"Before I go," he said. "There is something else. You'll be leaving Earth today, correct?"

"I can say anything –"

"I know," he cut her off, but not ungraciously. "I'm not trying to pry. I don't care what your mission is, I merely wish to make a request."

"A favor?"

"If you'd like."

She considered him a moment before saying, "What is it?"

"You'll be traveling outside of Earth space, correct?"

"Methos," she began in a warning tone.

He held up a placating hand. "I only ask because I hope that you'll be willing to speak to any Immortal you may encounter out there. I've not heard from a friend of mine for some time, longer than usual anyway."

"Is he missing?"

"I didn't think so, but under the circumstances I'm beginning to suspect he is. It is quite possible that he has gone on a jaunt to see the stars and didn't want anyone following him. I've made a few trips myself."

"Many of us have now, I think."

"Exactly. However, with the hunt for Immortals going on, I'd have thought he'd send a message by now if he could, but he hasn't," he said shaking his head. "Not to his longtime ladylove, not to his former students or mentors. Not to anyone he knows how to contact. I've tried tracing where he has gone, but by the time it occurred to me to look, too many years had passed. His other friends have likewise turned up nothing. I was tracking down my last lead when the Narns caught me. There isn't a trail left and I can't afford to randomly search now, of course. Remaining hidden here will be hard enough as it is."

"And space is too big," she stated the obvious sympathetically.

"I know," he said, aware of how impossible it sounded. "I only ask that if you happen to meet any other Immortals out there, could you inquire if they know anything about Duncan MacLeod's whereabouts. His friends are looking for him."

- o0o -

Yedor, Minbar

Valen was dimly aware of a discussion in the next room. The spacious interconnecting chambers of the quarters they'd put him in carried sound easily, however it had been quiet for some time now. Whispering among his aides had given way to silence after the first hour with only the occasional indistinct voices of his guards speaking at the distant door since then. The interruption was unwelcome.

He could just distinguish Shaka stridently admonishing someone for refusing him entrance. Sighing in resignation, Valen rose to his feet uncomfortably. His knees and numb feet briefly protested the movement before his regeneration erased all discomfort. If only it could sooth and mentally repair his mind and soul as it did physically.

The argument outside the room ceased the moment he stood up. He turned around to see the Satai and three acolytes standing a short distance from the archway into this room. Shaka was the senior of the two warriors on the council. He'd joined the council a few years after the war, which meant the first time Valen had seen him was when he was appointed ambassador to Minbar.

Shaka sidestepped the acolytes blocking his path, which caused them to do the same reforming into a wall in front of him. Valen imagined that they'd done this odd dance all the way across the room the moment Shaka became persistent.

"Master," began Shaka. "I apologize for interrupting your prayers, however there are matters that can wait no longer."

"Very well," Valen replied in resignation.

Shaka stood straighter and stated, "The council and caste elders are ready to assemble, at your convenience."

In other words, everyone had arrived and given the nature of the situation, they couldn't begin without him. Valen was more than willing to get this over with. "Jenard, send a messenger to call the assembly immediately."

Jenard bowed and scurried away. Another acolyte hurriedly brought Valen a formal outer cloak very similar to his old Anla'shok one. Shaka continued speaking as he followed Valen out the door.

"The warrior caste has formally declared that since the assassins meant to commit suicide, the one remaining shall be permitted to take his own life… after his interrogation is complete, of course," he added with some satisfaction.

It was exactly what Valen expected. Minbari didn't use the term killing in self-defense, but it meant the same thing as it was akin to the Denn'sha duels, the only legal means of killing another. Minbari did not kill Minbari. They preferred to put a more palatable label on it than admit that sometimes they did kill each other.

"The Wind Swords have publicly disavowed the assassins, saying that they were cast out of the clan months ago and that the dishonor and separation must have driven them mad," continued Shaka bitterly. "They always make that excuse. Most outcast Wind Swords attack people wholly unconnected with them, which their clan insists is proof of madness since they ought to want revenge on those who rejected them, not others. How the Wind Swords produce so many warriors willing to be disowned, carry out orders to commit murder and die knowing that those who sent them will heap dishonor on their names and deny it all, I'll never understand."

Valen could only nod in weary agreement as Shaka raged at the injustice.

"Which brings me to the problem of Kordar," Shaka said. He looked greatly ashamed.

Concern for his guard's welfare snapped him out of his daze. "How badly is he injured?"

"Insufficiently."

Offended, Valen stopped in the middle of the passageway, causing the whole parade to slide to a halt, and turned angrily on him. "Compared to what exactly?" he demanded.

"Compared to Torsival who is still in surgery," said Shaka, holding his ground. "Kordar has a bruise across his brow ridge, a few gashes and his word that he was knocked unconscious and awoke with blurred vision."

"I saw him stabbed."

"Shallowly. Kordar wore an extra layer of armor, which saved him from real harm. The others wore their usual lightly armored uniforms and were unaware that he did not. Why would Kordar secretly take such precautions? However, if he were an accomplice he would need to appear uninvolved, but not be seriously injured. The council's assessment is that the only reason your guards are alive is because leaving Kordar as the only survivor would draw suspicion on him."

"If that is true, why didn't he stay down and fake unconsciousness instead of helping me?"

"I've no doubt his performance was quite convincing. He appeared to come to your aid so as to get nearer. In close fighting you couldn't possibly see every move and you would trust him. Kordar could have accidentally tripped you, or perhaps appear to be fooled by a feint, or hesitated at seemingly the wrong moment leaving your left side vulnerable… and the child would be dead. Possibly you as well, without ever knowing you were betrayed. If the rest of the guards had not arrived…"

"Shaka," Valen interrupted ruefully. "You and Mr. Garibaldi would get along splendidly."

"Master?"

Valen's insides churned as he resumed striding down the corridor. He hated to think that the Wind Swords could successfully fool numerous people on every level to place an agent within his guard. Yet, part of him wanted to believe it, so that he could finish the clan for good. He suppressed it with difficulty.

"You make a compelling argument, however as you pointed out, Kordar's brow ridge was hit. And before you say it, yes the assassins may have unintentionally caused him to be too disoriented to stand. Yet, he fought anyway."

"If he was disoriented, he might not know who he was fighting and mistook the assassin for you."

"Tell me, would we even be having this discussion if Kordar wasn't a Wind Sword?"

Shaka's mouth fell open for a moment before he closed it and frowned as though unsure of how he should react.

"You and Mazik chose the members of my guard, did you not?" he asked rhetorically. "I can't help but notice that there are two Moon Shields, one of which is the guard leader and three Star Riders among them… just as you are a Moon Shield and Mazik is a Star Rider."

"As there are five clans and nine positions, it was not possible to divide them equally and each warrior qualifies by merit alone regardless of their clan."

"So you will both take responsibility for choosing Kordar should it be proven he was involved?"

There was a long pause in which only the group's footsteps could be heard. Valen knew he, as well as the guards and acolytes trailing them, were considering the repercussions, the potential dishonor that could fall on the two Satai. Enlightened self-interest usually won out.

"We will do as honor demands, as always," was Shaka's non-answer.

It was a bid for time, but time was what Kordar needed if he was innocent. It also reminded Valen of times in the past when the council had covered up the Wind Swords' dishonorable acts to save face. It had happened often enough that he began to wonder if the Wind Swords were expecting the council to hide the details of what happened and let the clan off with a mild punishment to avoid embarrassment.

- o0o -

The Caste Elders, their aides, and what appeared to be every high ranking official on Minbar filled the hall beyond its usual capacity. The warriors stood halfway between parade rest and battle stances, challenging everyone with their eyes. The religious put on an air of contempt and distain. Fear surrounded the workers and a sense that they desperately wished they were anywhere else. Firm lines divided each of them and equal numbers of each were present for Delenn's redesign of the Grey Council had not been duplicated on the caste level. She was easy to spot amongst her caste, as it was the only appropriate place for her to be under the circumstances. The Anla'shok did not have formal representation among the elders. The Grey Council sat at one end, observing the proceedings like ominous statues. Valen was next to them, yet not exactly with them.

A priest had spoken first from a script, literally. He read from a stack of sheets, undoubtedly written by Delenn. Given her rank she could have related the events she witnessed herself. The only explanation he could think of why she didn't was that it was too painful for her as yet. Next was a warrior whose speech consisted mostly of information provided by Valen's guards and the Anla'shok.

"The assassins were first seen walking along the lower levels," the warrior reported, "boldly going up the steps of the garden to enter the house. The Anla'shok sentries there were to be on duty for the entirety of Valen's visit and did not see his entourage arrive at the front of the house. Upon seeing the imposter accompanied by what appeared to be two acolytes, the Anla'shok mistook them for Valen's aides while the guards at the terrace doors and inside the house assumed they were household staff giving Valen a tour of the grounds. If any of them found it strange that neither Entil'Zha Delenn nor President Sheridan was with him, they naturally did not presume to inquire.

"Later when the guards were ordered to restrain the imposter and his changeling net failed, he was instantly recognizable as a warrior of the Wind Swords clan. The other assassins quickly abandoned their comrade, feigning terrified astonishment and left as directed by the guards who believed they were sending two acolytes away for their own safety. In addition, those two wore worker attire under religious robes, presumably meant to help them blend in with the workers on the lower levels and escape through the back later."

The remainder of her report had very little that was new to Valen, merely details. To his relief she said very little on the issue of Kordar other than to announce that he was suspended from guard duty while his clan was under investigation. She ended it with a long eloquent expression of the shame these failures had brought onto the warrior caste that was quite moving. There didn't appear to be much else to say while the prisoner continued to remain silent. The warriors' representative said little on that subject implying that it was not going well at all. Valen expected the meeting to adjourn however one of the workers stepped out onto the floor.

Whereas the other castes chose prominent members that were not actually elders to relay the facts for them given that the elders were to pass judgment later, this worker was the highest ranked elder of his caste. It lent an extra level of gravity to the situation to know that their elders had something so important to say that they didn't delegate it.

"If I may address the assembly," he began in a strong, but clearly pained voice. "I have evidence from the worker caste."

His words caused a stir among the audience as no one had expected the workers to speak, after all none of them had witnessed the fight. As an elder, his request to speak was a formality for no one would deny him the floor.

"The assassins gained entry to the house with the help of a delivery worker, I regret to say."

Shocked silence was the only response and made it all the easier to hear his quiet voice.

"This worker brings food stuffs from Tuzanor regularly to Entil'Zha Delenn's house. On the day of the attack, she was exceedingly late in her delivery. Her vehicle broke down along the way. She requested that a second one be sent to meet her and it was some time in arriving. The two workers who came were unknown to her. They transferred her cargo, took her and her assistant onboard and proceeded as she directed to the house. The Anla'shok on guard scanned the four workers and the delivery. They were allowed through the gate.

"At the kitchen door, servants from within the house came to fetch the delivery hurriedly. The driver informed her that he would help unload while she completed the proper forms for her delivery. She presumed that he and the two assistants were handing the food to the house staff from the back. After the paperwork was signed and exchanged with the kitchen manager, she waited for the driver to return to his place. Eventually, she investigated the back of the vehicle herself and found no one there.

"She went to the kitchen door, but no one answered it. Finally, she decided to drive to the gate and ask the Anla'shok for help locating her missing people. On her way up the drive, the vehicle was stopped and searched by other Anla'shok on the grounds. She was badly frightened by this and did not dare question them as one took over the driver's seat and others escorted them along the lane. Those at the gate let the vehicle pass. Once off the grounds, they let her have the vehicle back and ordered her to leave."

As the elder returned to his seat, Valen sincerely hoped that was the last shocking report. There was only so much failure the Minbari could take. Delenn's face was stony. It had been a day of blunders all around. Only the religious caste had not become mired in scandal. There was a sudden flurry of activity near the back of the crowd. An acolyte was determinedly moving through the ranks ignoring propriety. She reached the three highest-ranking religious caste elders and gave them what looked like note. The scene caught the attention of the entire room and the tension rose as the three elders began whispering intently to each other. Valen sighed resignedly as he waited along with everyone else to hear what was clearly disturbing news.

"There is a new problem, unconnected with this matter," the priest who'd spoken before announced as he returned to the floor. He continued to the end of the room as though each step pained him and stopped in front of Valen. Looking up he said hoarsely, "Master, Earth's news media has reported details of your origin on their world and your return here."

No one, not even the wide-eyed old priest in front of him, seemed to breathe after that statement. It was the dreadful pause of someone who couldn't believe what had just happened and was mere seconds away from unleashing a torrent of fury.

"Good," Valen said calmly.

The crowd's reaction was anything but calm, but whether they were outraged at ISN or himself or both he couldn't tell. He waited through their outbursts patiently and in moments, they'd reasserted their self-control.

"I did warn you not to force me into the open," he couldn't help reminding them looking sideways at the council. To his surprise, the council was quite composed.

"Indeed," answered Satai Dhaliri, a priestess. "We are ready."

Valen looked sharply at her, something in her tone and bearing was wrong. "Ready how?"

"To deny it," she replied as though it was the only possible answer.

Valen stared at her.

"This band of rumormongers cannot possibly have sufficient proof. Even if they have obtained ancient records from the Watchers, which is highly unlikely and can produce evidence that an Immortal with the name Jeffery Sinclair existed… it won't be enough. All we need do is insist on comparing DNA samples and they will be forced to conclude that any similarity between you and your past self is mere coincidence. Your Chrysalis transformation was quite thorough, more than Entil'Zha Delenn endured." Dhaliri nodded toward Delenn, who looked torn, as though unsure of how she should react. "Out of necessity of course. Your immortality is the perfect explanation for all other anomalies and similarities."

Dhaliri ended her little speech, which to his ears sounded rehearsed and the entire council looked quite satisfied with themselves.

"There is one flaw in your argument," he said bluntly. "I won't deny the truth."

"How can you be pleased with this?" Satai Durlan suddenly demanded.

Valen responded with a wry look. "I never meant for my origins to remain a secret forever and it is inevitable that it'd become known in this time."

"But all Minbari will be confused and angry," Satai Bhurli stated the obvious. "They will mistrust the prophecies…"

"There were no prophecies a thousand years ago," Valen explained.

"Our society depends on them now," he argued.

"None of that was required to unite Minbar. You don't need it. Can you not see that?"

"Perhaps it is you who cannot see, Valen," Satai Katz spoke up his deep, slow voice filled the chamber. "Because you perceive yourself as a man. Yes, I do mean a man, a Human. Please do not be offended that I do not. I know you are more than that and our people need you to be what you are. We've subsisted on ritual in your absence and perhaps that will fade away now that you've returned. But it will take time."

Valen locked eyes with him for a long moment, wondering why this old worker was telling him to be himself when the council so far had done everything they could to force him into a mold. Finally he said sadly, imploringly, "You'll wish you'd left me on Babylon 5."

"Perhaps, but what is done is done and the future will be."

Valen couldn't help but admire his stubbornness, enough to let him have the last word at least for now. He'd had enough frustration and argument for one day. They'd put on quite a sporting match, tossing questions and throwing painful truths at each other. These caste elders had likely never heard the Grey Council speak so candidly before. One more rule of their culture was being shattered today. They must be becoming numb to it by now.

He stood and proceeded to the doors at the back of the room, the council quickly filing out after him. Delenn caught up with him as he passed the second corridor. His heart was heavy for her and he hardly knew what to say, but he led the way into a nearby gallery anyway. The windows displayed a starry night outside. It was with some dismay that he realized he had lost all track of time and it was quite late.

"John is waiting in the courtyard, if I could send for him?" she began.

"Of course," he said as she dispatched an aide to bring her husband. "For that matter, I'm sure the rest of you have better things to do than stand about here. Run along," he told the convoy of acolytes who were following him.

"I apologize for not informing you of ISN's broadcast myself. John had only just seen it and told me, but the convocation was already called so it was necessary to hurry…" she rambled. "I did not think anyone else would learn of it so soon."

"Delenn, it's alright." It concerned him to see her so flustered. It was unlike her, but given the horrors of the day she was doing rather well.

"How is David?"

"I'm told he will be fine," she said blinking back tears and failing. "John and I have let it be known that we have sent him into hiding with friends. In reality, David is currently onboard a whitestar bound for Earth. He will be safer with his grandparents until this is over."

He couldn't think of what to do as she struggled to regain her composure.

"I'm so sorry," he said helplessly. "I shouldn't have visited, it made it too tempting an opportunity."

"No, no," she recoiled at the idea that he had any share of the blame. "They could have attacked at another time disguised as John or I."

"I don't think so. Masquerading as you or Sheridan or even one of your aides held too much risk," he argued. "Someone might try to give them a report, ask a question they couldn't answer, or you might give them an order they didn't know how to follow. That's in addition to the chance of meeting the real person. In any case, they apparently only had one changeling net or at least only one of them was able to tolerate wearing it.

"Impersonating me gave them the highest chance of success. No one would question where I went or what I did. As I was a guest, they knew exactly which rooms I would be in and could avoid me. They timed this precisely when the three of us were supposed to be in the dining room."

"They were unaware that their means of breaking in would also expose them," she said. "That is how you knew something was wrong?" she asked pointedly. "While I let embarrassment cloud my senses."

"Delenn, you are not at fault. Not at all."

The firm conviction in his voice bolstered her somewhat, enough to say what was obviously worrying her. "How did you know that Wind Swords were there, that they had a changeling net, that were going to attack David… David…" She fought back tears again and choked on her words angrily. The look in her eyes showed she was torn between wanting to regain her old surety in his foreknowledge and keeping the dismal reality she'd lived with since the end of the mystery. The latest events fit neither.

"Like you, I recognized that the household was behaving out of character," he tried to reassure her while downplaying it. "The thought crossed my mind that a third attempt could be in progress. I would've dismissed it given how heavily your house is guarded, but I was sure the Wind Swords were behind the attacks and that there was one way to completely breech your security: a changeling net. A method you've seen them use before, remember?" he asked referring to the time he was framed for the murder attempt on Kosh by a Wind Sword on Babylon 5.

"I didn't know if I was just being paranoid, so I made an excuse to take you all to the most secure room I could think of, a place they wouldn't expect us to be, and wait to see if my hunch was correct. I had no idea there were three of them."

"How did you know for certain they were Wind Swords?"

"Experience."

"We passed them in the corridor, John and I," Delenn suddenly confessed. She stared off into space. "I didn't even look at their faces, I was in such a rush to catch up with John. We gave away your location. They only had to go down the hall we'd just left and see your guards to find you."

"Delenn…"

"Don't tell me not to blame myself," she insisted. "They invaded my home again. I failed to protect David. It is right that I feel guilt."

Knowing he couldn't persuade her otherwise, Valen dropped the matter. Sheridan arrived then, sparing them from an awkward silence. After greeting one another, Sheridan launched into how to deal with the problem. Valen could understand his frustration at being excluded by the Minbari in their deliberations. They were using the excuse that Delenn was a sufficient representative for the family to keep an alien out and it rankled.

"I heard about what went on in meeting," Sheridan told him. The aide Delenn sent to escort him here had likely witnessed it and probably informed him on her instructions. It was good to know that not everyone was as willing to keep Sheridan out.

"This prisoner who won't talk," Sheridan began, aggravated. "He's lost all rights and from what I know about the warriors, they're none too gentle about getting information. Yet, obviously it's not working. And what about this guard of yours who is under suspicion? Why don't they use telepaths to get the truth out of both of them?"

"Minbari do not use telepaths to determine truthfulness," Delenn explained.

"Minbari do not lie," Sheridan quoted at her. "But we all know that some do lie… that it is even okay so long as it is to protect another. That doesn't make it okay in my book, it makes it worse. Nobody is seriously going to let these guys shield the other conspirators, right?"

"No, they won't allow that, which is why the life and honor of Kordar is at stake," Valen informed them. "Everyone believes he is lying to shield his clan, which happens to also work in his favor in protecting himself from punishment, should he deserve any. That is why he has been suspended on suspicion alone."

"You don't think he's guilty?" Sheridan said surprised. "Asking a telepath to help would solve the problem. Surely someone would agree to verify Kordar's allegiance?" asked Sheridan.

"Pride," admitted Delenn, "won't allow it. The Wind Swords would insist on using their own telepaths, but like you said, everyone knows they'd be obligated to lie to protect their clan's honor. However, raising an objection is tantamount to accusing the Wind Swords of intending to have their telepaths lie, for which honor would demand that they kill their accusers… Do you see why this is not done?"

"They'd rather he get away with it to save face?"

Delenn shook her head and said, "They'd rather dishonor an innocent man than loose face."

"What makes this worse," Valen added, "is regardless of whether Kordar is innocent, he will likely die."

"You're kidding?" Sheridan asked, appalled.

"The honor of the people," Delenn explained, "demands that if he is guilty of being an accomplice to commit murder, he must die for it. If he is innocent, but it cannot be proven, he must give up his life willingly to erase the dishonor."

At Sheridan's stunned silence, Valen said, "There is only one way he can live and maintain his honor at this time. His intended victim can pardon him."

"David? But he's a baby."

"Which is why the decision will likely fall to you and Delenn."

Sheridan looked sick. "I can't do that," he declared and he turned to Delenn. She was clearly miserable and entirely aware that they'd be required to do this. "I'm so angry I can hardly think straight as it is and I'm supposed to decide this guy's fate without evidence of his guilt or innocence?" he asked incredulously. "Why don't you pardon him if you're so sure he's not an accomplice?"

"I can't get involved –"

Sheridan turned on him in fury, looking ready to accuse Valen of cowardice, punch him or both. Delenn grabbed her husband's arm, whether to reassure him or hold him back it wasn't clear.

"Hear me out, please," he implored. "Yes, I have the power to step in, but only if I'm the sole target of the plot. I'd have to claim that David was not in danger, otherwise you and Delenn will still have no choice but to make a decision along with me. However, the fact is the assassins didn't use their bombs. The general public is under the impression that other than that, only an Immortal can kill another Immortal. I'd rather not inform everyone that the assassins only needed to decapitate me. Admitting that is what it'll take to prove I was a target.

"Without your intervention, this mess could drag on until Kordar voluntarily commits suicide to spare his family further repercussions," Valen ended with a sigh.

"But that's…"

"Our way," Delenn said gently and with great sadness. She leaned her head against his shoulder for comfort.

"It stinks," Sheridan declared forcefully, but he put an arm around his wife.

Delenn looked at Valen intently and asked, "Do you truly believe your guard is innocent or is it that you don't want to believe otherwise?"

Valen thought about that, reminding himself that he'd met Kordar only a few weeks ago. He knew nothing about him, except for what he'd seen. Replaying the battle in his mind, he silently prayed for what seemed like the hundredth time today that this was the right thing to do. Valen steeled himself and said, "Yes, I believe he is innocent. Please spare his life."

Their expressions of great anxiety and pain mirrored each other. They would need time to decide. It was out of his hands now.

"We'll talk about it," Sheridan answered as he looked at his wife.

"When we are calmer," she added in agreement.

Valen nodded. "Thank you for considering it."

"One more thing," Sheridan said and handed a data crystal over to Valen. "Here is a copy of the ISN report."

"We will leave you to it," Delenn said. She and Sheridan made a discrete exit.

Valen set off down the hall to his quarters. He couldn't help feeling some trepidation as he held the crystal, though he'd expected this report would happen sooner rather than later. Knowing didn't help. He'd thought he was as ready as he could be given he'd known there was nothing he could do to prepare for it or prevent it. Only wait for it to happen.

He dismissed everyone inside his rooms. Now that he was alone, he almost didn't want to watch it. As soon as he thought it, he pushed the idea aside. He went brusquely to the nearest console and shoved the crystal into it's data port. It looked as though recording was edited in a hurry, probably by Sheridan himself, for the video began at the end of what was obviously the previous report. A vaguely familiar image of a woman in an Earthforce uniform was already disappearing from the screen as the reporter finished his report.

"-in lieu of a funeral. Our hearts go with her family and friends in this time of grief."

The image recentered around the face of the reporter as no new image was produced to replace the deceased officer's picture. The words "Another Immortal Found or a Fraud?" hovered below him on the screen.

"A man we at ISN have long believed to be an Immortal called Valen was seen on Babylon 5 last week in disguise. Under his most recent alias of Jeffrey Sinclair, he was our most successful fighter pilot in the Earth Minbari War, credited with thirty-three confirmed kills and decorated for valor at the Battle of the Line. His reaction to near genocide? To become the enemy, literally. Valen has transformed himself into a Minbari/Human hybrid, presumably by the same unknown means used by former Ambassador Delenn, now Entil'Zha of the Rangers and the wife of Interstellar Alliance President, John Sheridan.

"Minbar is currently hailing Valen as their long lost leader. But just what qualifies Valen, whose last years as a Human culminated in a short stint as commander of Babylon 5 and a dubious ambassadorship to Minbar, to rule the Minbari Federation? Ask any Minbari and you will get the same answer.

"'He's a Minbari not born of Minbari who defeated the Shadows and reformed Minbari society a thousand years ago.'

"Not only do they say this with a straight face, but they embrace the idea and ignore the fact that the person they are pointing to was completely Human just three years ago.

"Has Minbar's famous conformity become blatant brainwashing? The rest of the galaxy can only watch and wonder what cultural cataclysms will Valen wreak on Minbar?"

"That is all for our Babylon 5 Babble segment-"

The video ended there. It was one of ISN's location reports. They had a series of them at the same time every day on each of Earth's regions. Of course, Sheridan would watch the daily Babylon 5 report and likely was the reason ISN's broadcasts were boosted this far away now. Unlike Valen, Sheridan hadn't luxury of regular visits to Babylon 5 these last two years.

The report was both good and quite bad. They didn't display a single picture of him, which gave him the impression that it had been hastily put together. If they hadn't bothered to dig up their bio image of him from his Babylon 5 days, they must not be taking it very seriously. Also, they didn't know much and his Minbari handlers wouldn't allow them close enough to learn more. It was highly likely that some politician's assistant had leaked that Jeffery Sinclair was actually an Immortal named Valen, so he could count on Earthgov to lean on ISN to hush it up. They were already out public favor for splashing one Immortal's face all over this corner of the galaxy. They didn't have an excuse this time.

ISN was walking a fine line wanting to produce more reports on Immortals without stumbling onto more legally shaky ground. However, the very nature of the report would make it easy for many people to dismiss it from the lack of substance, if not flatly absurd. He was almost sorry the person who'd written the report hadn't mentioned that he'd traveled through time. A crazy claim like that would have prevented the whole thing from ever making it on the air.

His musings were interrupted as his console of an incoming call and he grinned broadly both at the name of the caller and that it was sent directly to his quarters this time. It was nice not to have to sneak off to a viewing room anymore to take calls from his friends. A two dimensional hologram of a woman he'd not seen in a thousand years sprang to life over the console and for a moment, he forgot to say hello, but just looked at her.

"You wouldn't believe the hooey I had to wade through to get this channel open," was her flippant greeting.

"Oh, I've got an inkling. How are you Susan?"

Susan Ivanova looked differently than he remembered, but he couldn't place what. Other than a new hairstyle, she was unchanged as far as he could tell. He noticed that his scrutiny was being reciprocated, but she'd known what to expect. Other than a raised eyebrow, Susan made no comment as she studied his appearance.

"I'm well," she replied and proudly announced, "I've got my own ship. What about you?"

"Good. Congratulations on your promotion, Captain. You more than earned it," he said with a nod. "I'm very relieved to hear from you. I was beginning to think my message would never get through."

"It didn't," she said grimly. "I raised hell when I saw a news report about you today. I'm sure you remember what the red tape is like, so I won't torment you with a rant."

"I remember. I doubt they'll repeat that mistake, not if they value their hearing. How do you like commanding a ship?"

"I love it," she exclaimed. Susan began talking about the highs and lows of her job. Little stories about her travels through space and its differences or similarities to holding a station together. She didn't give too much detail of course, but he didn't need to know which planets she'd seen to understand her enthusiasm. She was almost gushing, something he could never recall seeing her do before, as though merely saying she was happy wasn't enough.

"It has been about three years since I took command of the Nemesis, so I've gone from settling in to trying not to relax too much."

"Appropriate name," he comment slyly.

"It is," she said with pride. "I've always been partial to griffins and divine retribution. Well, enough about me. What are you up to?"

No questions about his immortality or why he hadn't contacted any of his friends the day his past self left. She was content to listen to what he wished to tell her and find out the rest by other means if she could. Direct inquisitiveness had its place and she had a knack for knowing when not to ask. He realized he must be more edgy from today's hassles than he thought for her to pick up on it via a mere transmission.

Determined to keep the mood cheerful he said in a conspiratorial tone, "I'm bestowing migraines on everyone I meet."

"By doing what?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh, so many ways. But my current favorite involves a certain group," he didn't say the Grey Council as he could never be sure if his handlers or in this case, Earthforce, were listening in, but Susan would know who he meant, "whose policy for dealing with extremely controversial subjects has been to declare that I will take care of it when I return."

"Ouch. That's some serious procrastination."

"Some of it has become irrelevant over the centuries, such as ownership the Cup of Aelenn. Its still a sore topic even though her shrine collapsed into the sea generations ago. Can you even image Minbari arguing over a glorified chamber pot? No, don't answer that," he said aware that any number of embarrassing things about the Minbari's use of his name were on the tip of her tongue. "Everything from intergalactic involvement to the color of street signs-"

He was interrupted by the entrance of an aide and realized he was going to be late. For a moment he considered canceling the trip all together rather than cut his talk with Susan short, but knew she'd have no qualms in expressing her disapproval if he did.

"I'm sorry, but I'm being called away." He hated to dampen her mood, but there was one more thing he had to tell her. "Since you are already on this channel, were you planning on calling Sheridan and Delenn? I could have you transferred to them," he offered letting his expression show the urgency.

"I'd appreciate that, thank you. Trouble?"

"Some foiled plots and suspects in custody. I know they'd like to hear your opinions."

"Thanks for the heads up. It is really," she stumbled over the last word, but managed to keep her voice steady as she repeated, "really great to talk to you, Jeff."

"And you, Susan."

As he instructed his aide to transfer the signal to the Sheridan household, Valen finally realized what was different about Ivanova. She was careworn and throwing herself into her job to hide it.

- o0o -

Preview of chapter 8:

"I have been a doctor many times," Methos answered. He kneeled down by the sofa and pushed aside some of the candles on the nearest table to make room for his surgical kit. "What else did they tell you?" he asked as he pulled out a scanner and began waving it over the body.

"They found her in her quarters on the floor. The security chief's theory is she let someone in and was attacked, but the doctor says otherwise. No sign of a struggle, nothing stolen and she didn't call anyone on her link," Alastair recited sadly. "Whether any of that is actually true, however…" he finished, doubt lining his face.

"It might be," Methos answered thoughtfully as he looked at the scanner's readout. It was an old model and rather slow, but it did its job well enough. "The only marks I'm finding are those consistent with an autopsy. However, it may be that our technology can't detect the problem."