.~~.
HALF HOUR LATER, at a dining restaurant in Babylon Five, Lyta was having a meal with Morden. There was only one of their Shadow associates nearby, and that one wasn't hungry. It was not too close to them, as this was a reward for them: privacy, to a degree, the opportunity to do what they wanted -- so long as it did not conflict with Shadow plans.Morden didn't say anything. So far as Lyta knew, aside from that one conversation she'd had with him earlier, the man never discussed anything not directly pertaining to the business of their associates.
Fortunately, someone stepped in to save Lyta from a meal completely silent: Vir.
He'd just left the MedLab, after talking with G'kar and the doctors there. Walking very slowly from MedLab, Vir had had time to formulate his request; turning it over and around in his head, checking it for possible/potential weak points.
The young Centauri walked up to their table. "I found you," Vir said, then, with his usual self-correcting, "Not that I was looking very hard, or very long. I mean..."
Morden finished chewing while Vir prattled. "Was there something you wanted, Vir?" Morden asked once he'd swallowed his food.
"I wanted to talk to you...both of you, if she's one of your associates too."
Lyta mentally said to Morden, _This was almost too easy_ jokingly. "I am," she said to Vir. "We're listening." One never said `I'm all ears' to a Centauri . . . Something to do with one of their more obscure deities and a mythical hero...
"I know what I want," Vir stated again, as confidently as Vir could be.
Which probably wasn't saying much.
"...And that is...?" Lyta asked.
"I want you - both of you - and your associates - to leave Londo alone," Vir said, pretty sure that Morden was going to say `I can't do that, Vir.'
But Morden just took a drink of his beverage, set it back down, and said, "Done."
"`Done'?" Vir asked, dumbfounded. Morden nodded. "Just like that?"
"Just like that," Morden confirmed. "I give you my word, Vir, that I will never speak to Ambassador Mollari."
"Even if he isn't an ambassador too!" Vir added quickly.
Morden tipped his head, an _Of course_ gesture.
.~~.
MINUTES LATER, in the Vorlon Ambassadorial Suite, Kosh Naranek swirled around Kosh-self's quarters, thinking, plotting. While one lone Kosh lacked the computing power of a dozen Kosh-es interworking, Kosh Naranek was good at this...that was why this Kosh was Ambassador.The human captain of this station, the `sheridan', was weakening at a rate that most species would find alarming. While Kosh knew that soldier-servants often died in the service of the Vorlons, Kosh also knew that Kosh needed a vessel for containing Kosh -- the `sheridan' would not last long against Shadow attacks, or any other attack by a mental weapon from any species.
So Kosh considered what/where to secrete a portion of Kosh/Kosh-self, and when. The `ivanova'? The idea was quickly negated. The `garibaldi'? Also negated. The `allen'? Possible/perhaps.
Kosh Naranek prepared Kosh-self for the possibility that a portion of Kosh-self would need to be inserted into the mind of `bester'.
.~~.
MEANWHILES, on Minbar, Ambassador Sinclair was walking through a botanical garden with a Minbari friend of his - a ship captain. A successful captain, who had something that Sinclair needed: a ship.
"If I may ask, Geoff, with what do you reqire a ship fr?"
Jeff Sinclair didn't object to the mispronounciation -- his friend had a problem in the palate, which affected some words.
He also didn't want to be pinned between two awkwards: "Like your people, Nerh," Sinclair said, "I do not like to lie. So perhaps you can help me with this... If I do not lie, then more than likely, noone will loan me a ship. If I remain silent, and do not answer, I suspect the result will be the same as before."
Nerh considered this. "You are my friend, and you were honest with me `n this mattr. You will have your ship."
Sinclair bowed his gratitude. "Thank you, my friend."
.~~.
THE NEXT MORNING, ON BABYLON FIVE, Lyta was walking out to board one of the outbound ships, when she heard that now-familiar voice behind her."Excuse me," Zack said.
Lyta, not panicking, not sending out any _I am not here_ signals, turned around, and gave Zack a bit of a smile. "Is there something I can help you with, Zack?" _What do you want?_
"I'd like a question answered," he said.
She nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
"What were you doing on the station?"
"Just walking around," she said honestly, _connecting the dots._ "It's been a while since I was here last; so I talked to some old aquaintances of mine."
"Oh," said Zack. _I see. So that's the game she's plying?_ "Well, I hope you had a good time."
She nodded. "Delightful." Lyta waited, but he didn't say anything else. So, she turned back around, and headed for the launch bay. There was still that ship...
"Lyta," Zack said. She turned her head. "Will I get to see you again?" Zack asked.
Lyta paused to consider that. "I think so, Zack. Meet me in the place where shadows never lift." _There, if that wasn't suitably cryptic..._ she thought with a hidden grin as she walked into the darkness of the launch bay.
A small Shadow ship was waiting for her.
.~~.
THE END.EPILOGUE:
Location: Classified, Valen-Level Security:
The Technomages, what few he had been able to contact, steadfastly and flatly refused to help. They hadn't said Why, just that they wouldn't help any of the sides.
And so, that was why Sinclair was here, standing in a borrowed ship, speaking to a member of a species/religion that he would gladly have killed only two or three years ago. "Can I count on your assistance?" he asked.
In reply, "There is only one thing which my Brothers would deem valuable enough to side with you." The SoulHunter looked cooly at Sinclair, gem glinting. "I believe you already know what that is."
Sinclair nodded; he knew what they wanted:
_Souls._
.~~~.
END OF THIS STORY.