"Hindsight's always perfect -- but foresight? How could we know what was going to happen?..."

---- Zack Allan, Recollections

John Sheridan looked up as the door opened and frowned slightly as an unfamiliar Ranger entered the war room. He had to be the mysterious Stockton, the "Eyes of Ranger One." He seemed a pleasant enough young man with an inconspicuous, bland appearance of short brown hair and brown eyes, tall without being too tall, and a not-unattractive face. Take away his Ranger garb and he was non-descript for a human, which no doubt made him an excellent spy.

Garibaldi was already crossing the floor to shake his hand. "Karl. Good to see you again."

"Michael. Good to be back." He nodded to Delenn formally. "Ambassador."

"Anla'shok Stockton," she smiled warmly at him. "Welcome. Who is at Medlab?"

"Deronn," Stockton answered. "He volunteered."

Garibaldi frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. "What do you mean? At Medlab?"

Stockton explained, "Ambassador Delenn wanted a Ranger guarding Entil'Zha at all times while he is on the station. No reflection on station security, Michael, but Rangers protect their own."

Garibaldi shrugged. "Hey, I don't mind the help."

The captain moved forward, impatient to be introduced.

Stockton faced him, focusing his attention on the captain, who suddenly realized the Ranger wasn't so bland after all. The brown eyes were intent and focused, and those soft features hid a very sharp mind. "Captain Sheridan, I'm Karl Stockton of the Anla'shok. I'm glad to finally meet you."

They shook hands and Sheridan asked, smiling, "After avoiding me for the last year?"

Stockton shrugged. "Rangers generally have specific contacts, and station commanders tend to be conspicuous."

"I'm glad you're here. Though -- and please don't take this the wrong way -- I wish Marcus was here."

Stockton nodded sadly. "No more than I do, Captain."

Ivanova cleared her throat. "Do you really think the ambassador is in danger?"

"Commander," Stockton told her patiently. "Entil'Zha has only left Minbar twice since he arrived, because the Minbari believed his leaving would be an unacceptable risk to his safety."

"I bet he was climbing the walls," Ivanova murmured sympathetically, and Sheridan nodded agreement. He knew he would hate to be planet-bound more than a year, and Sheridan suspected that Sinclair, as a former Starfury pilot, would get even more terraphobic.

Stockton continued, "But even Minbar wasn't as safe as we had thought. Three months ago an assassin nearly killed Entil'Zha in Tuzanor itself."

"What?" Garibaldi demanded in shock. "How "nearly"?"

Reluctantly Stockton raised a hand, fingers and thumb only a little apart. "About this close. If it hadn't been for some warriors who spotted the sniper and pushed Entil'Zha out of the way, he'd be dead. We tightened security, and prevented another attempt four weeks ago."

"He didn't mention any of this to me," Garibaldi complained and hit the link on the back of his hand. "Garibaldi to Allan. Zack, I want guards on the ambassador round the clock."

"You got it, Chief. Allan out."

Garibaldi glanced at Stockton, smiling tightly. "We take care of our own on B5 too."

Sheridan thought of Sinclair, lying helplessly unconscious in Medlab, and of two assassination attempts, and didn't protest Garibaldi's action. When a known agent of the Shadows could get aboard the station apparently at whim -- anyone could get aboard.

G'Kar entered, completing the members of the council.

Sheridan moved to the conference table. "Time to get started." He remained standing as the other took their seats.

He took a look around the table at his council. Ivanova, watching him with that hard light of a warrior; Garibaldi, sprawled in his chair casually as if nothing mattered, but his blue eyes were measuring and sharp; Stockton, the only stranger of the group, but whose loyalties were unquestionable; G'Kar, a new addition that Sheridan already couldn't imagine being without; Lennier, sitting quietly beside Delenn, trying to pretend he wasn't there; and lastly, Delenn, a bastion of serenity and light in the midst of war and darkness -- he already could see the beauty of her new/old appearance, and no longer found it strange.

She smiled at him gently, meeting his gaze, and he realized he was wool-gathering.

He touched a control, and a gut-wrenching, slowly spinning image of a Shadowship formed above the middle of the table. He'd faced two of the things, and he wasn't looking forward to confronting more.

"We're not prepared for this," he admitted first, and their attention sharpened at the unexpected words. "We only have seven days until the Shadows attack us. We'd hoped that our mission to sector fourteen would change that, but it didn't work. While they don't seem to be heading here, I suspect it's just a feint. We know they'll be here, and that gives us an advantage. A slim one, I grant you, but it tells us where they're going to be and from what direction they have to come. Unfortunately, seven days is not enough time to put together a strong enough defense. We still have some damage from the assault by Clark's force earlier that's going to make it hard. An evacuation isn't the answer either -- we need the station if we're ever going to launch a counter-offensive, so letting it be destroyed isn't an option.

He hesitated, almost unable to believe he was going to say the words, and then said them anyway, "What we need is to attack."

Garibaldi snapped straight as if Sheridan had poked him with a pin, and Ivanova let slip a shocked, "What?" But G'Kar nodded once in understanding.

Silence from the Minbari/Ranger contingent, as they waited for the explanation. Even Stockton showed nothing of his surprise, merely watching Sheridan in reserved silence.

Sheridan continued, "It's really the only option. We've shown the other races that we have power; with them on board, we can raise a fleet. It doesn't have to be huge, since the point is not to actually win a victory. All we need is a distraction -- something to turn them away from the station.

"One thing Earth learned in the Minbari War," he cast an apologetic glance at Delenn, "is that a vastly superior force can't be directly fought. We lost a lot of people to head-on strategy, instead of guerrilla tactics. If we'd laid more mines, set more ambushes, we could have made the price higher."

"We would have exterminated you," Delenn murmured, not meeting his eyes. "You have seen how you are regarded, "Star Killer,"" she deliberately used the name the warrior caste used for him, "imagine that disdain a hundredfold for your people."

"Yeah," Garibaldi cut in, "but we would've taken more with us."

"That's not the point," Sheridan regained control of the meeting before it deteriorated into a rehash of the Earth-Minbari war. "My point is, hit-and-run tactics are the only ones we have. But they work. As we saw at Jupiter, the Shadow ships can be beaten, they can be destroyed, if we're smart. If we don't get trapped into thinking we're as powerful as they are, and use what we have instead.

"So let's figure out what we have. Give me a weapon," he turned his gaze on Ivanova.

"The White Star," she answered immediately. "They know we have it, but it still packs a punch for a little ship."

"Mr. Garibaldi?" Sheridan demanded.

"Telepaths. I don't know where we can get them, or how they work, but that Shadowship sure was put off by Bester. Then again, so are most people," he added, only half-joking. "Anyway we'd need to test."

The Ranger sat forward, glancing at Delenn for approval before he spoke. "We tested it already."

"And?" Sheridan demanded eagerly. This could be just the break they needed-- something to level the playing field at least a little.

"Oh, it works." No one missed Karl's intense shudder. "The damn thing got close enough to spit at. Three Minbari telepaths were able to hold the thing, or disrupt its connections, I'm not sure. Enough for us to pound it to dust."

"It does work," Sheridan tightened his hands into fists, as if holding invisible weapons.

"There's a cost," Stockton inserted hurriedly, and the captain turned cold. Karl continued somberly, "Two of them died of brain hemorrhaging. Apparently it's hideously difficult."

Lennier added, "However, the survivor reported that he could teach others how to attack the Shadowships more effectively to reduce the loss of life."

"How many can we have?" Sheridan demanded.

Lennier and Stockton exchanged a glance, and Karl's mouth twisted as if he swallowed old spoo. "None, captain. The survivor was killed before he could pass on what he learned."

"You let him get killed?" Garibaldi demanded in appalled outrage, springing to his feet to lean over the table and glare at the Ranger. "What kind of security do the Rangers have, Karl? First I find out an assassin nearly got to Sinclair twice, and now our only informant on Shadow fighting ends up dead."

Karl's brown eyes sharpened, grew flinty and cold. His placid reserve gave way to something much more dangerous, and though Karl didn't move, Garibaldi froze. "The Shadows took out his entire ship and his escort, Michael, in less time than it takes to say. One hundred sixteen people died in a futile attempt to protect him."

"So it works," Sheridan interjected quickly, and Garibaldi sat down again. "It has a high price, but it works. Another weapon, Mr. Stockton?"

"The Rangers," he lifted his head proudly. "We are trained to face the darkness, Captain. You have met only a few of us, but together we are an army."

Sheridan nodded thoughtfully. They were an army and their courage was unquestionable. But they were also a weapon to be wielded by one hand, and their devotion to their leader verged on the reverential. Any use of the Rangers as a weapon or an army would have to go through Sinclair first, which would somewhat limit their tactical value. "G'Kar?"

"A weapon," the Narn began thoughtfully. "We do not have the technology, but we have numbers if we join together. Each race has billions of members. Together, we could overwhelm the creatures of darkness. I would say that our weapon is our willingness to sacrifice ourselves so that others might live in freedom. Some, perhaps many, will die," his fierce gaze traveled the table, "perhaps all of us sitting here will die in the battles to come. But we know that our lives are as candles in a storm, as long as the light goes on. Our courage is our weapon."

"And our faith," Delenn added. "In a war such as this, the spirit may weaken, grow ill. It is difficult to continue when the consequence of any action is more death. Our faith will sustain us."

Faith and courage were certainly valuable, but not quite what he had been hoping for. Sheridan drew breath to speak, but she raised a hand. "You requested a weapon., and I am certain you meant of more practical help." She smiled faintly, and his cheeks felt warm. Was he that transparent?

She continued, "We have knowledge -- some of which we do not know that we know. Many of the races, including my own, had experiences with the Shadows in the last Great War. The Book of G'Quan has already been very helpful," she nodded in the direction of the Narn. "Who is to say what other information may lie inside stories and pictures from long ago that may be of use to us now? The Brakiri, who were minor allies in the last war, have a legend of a special weapon that could make the Shadows visible. My own histories speak of Valen's "hand of light" which could kill creatures of darkness. These are things which need to be re-discovered and used again."

Sheridan nodded thoughtfully. She was right. Legends usually had a kernel of truth to them somewhere, though the source had been lost long before. Of course, it helped that the Minbari had already been space-faring a thousand years before and so their stories were rather more technologically advanced than most.

"Good. Thank you. I think we all realize that we're stronger than we thought." He gestured toward the wallscreen. "Looking at that, it's easy to think that we're just little fish trapped in a small pond with a shark. But we have teeth." He moved to the screen, changing the image to bring up a view of Quadrant 23. "This is where we're going to prove it."

He'd spent several hours this morning looking at reports and maps, finding the best place. Quadrant 23 had four solar systems, including one supergiant that was marked as a hyperspace navigation hazard because of the immense gravitational pull. Not far away, a pulsar threw out energy enough to confuse any sensor at close range. Quadrant 23 was just galactic "north" of the direct path between the Shadows' last major fleet sighting and Babylon 5.

"Here," he pointed to a spot not far from the supergiant. "We lure the Shadows here with the White Star's distress. The pulsar and the giant will make it tough for anyone's sensors, so they won't know who's waiting for them. When they investigate, the giant's gravitational slant in hyperspace will force them into a predictable position in realspace, where we blast away, do damage, and jump out of there." There weren't exactly any cheers, so he decided to lighten the mood, "With any luck, the star will collapse into a black hole and take them all with it."

A few chuckles broke the grimness. He looked at his council as he returned to the table. There didn't seem to be any major objections. "Questions?"

G'Kar, as one might expect, was the first. "That is the Nazakhar border between the Drazi and the Abbai. How do you intend to handle the negotiations?"

Damn. The quadrant number had sounded vaguely familiar, but he hadn't remembered why. The Nazakhar border had been a flash point of difficult League relations for three decades, as the Drazi and Abbai fought skirmishes in the disputed space. Why anyone would want those barren, ancient stars and planets was a mystery to him, but they did.

Karl spoke, surprising them all, "I don't believe that will be a problem."

Sheridan shot him an inquiring look, and Karl smiled back, a bit mysteriously. "Both governments granted the Rangers free passage through that area for training purposes."

"That'll certainly make things easier as we gather the fleet," Sheridan nodded several times, thinking quickly. The Drazi support for the Rangers, though a bit strange and something he wanted to find out more about, would help negotiate for ships. The Abbai were less inclined than Drazi to join a battle just because there was a battle, but they would want to strike at the Shadows too.

Reflecting his thoughts, Ivanova said, "I think I can help with the Drazi, if they're resistant, which I doubt. I don't think Drazi ever see a fight they don't like. It'll be the Brakiri and the Gaim who will be tough to persuade."

"Ambassador She'lah will hear us," Delenn offered, "if you and I go together, Captain."

Sheridan noticed that Delenn wasn't promising the Gaim would actually deliver any ships. If they even had any. The Gaim weren't known as powerhouses of the League. They were an odd race, even odder than the Pak'ma'ra in some ways, and he hated that he could never get an inkling of what they were thinking, wrapped in their breathing masks and translators.

"What about telepaths?" Garibaldi asked and held up a hand defensively as Ivanova and Sheridan looked at him incredulously. "Look, I don't like 'em. But they're the big weapon we've got right now, if we can find any. I doubt any of us are real comfortable with the thought about contacting PsiCorps, however friendly Bester promised to be, so we gotta find some others."

"Lyta has connections to the underground, I'm sure," Ivanova reminded him.

"Excellent idea," Sheridan approved. "Michael, why don't you get her help? She's been very useful before."

Garibaldi looked rebellious for just one instant. No matter how valuable an ally Lyta Alexander was, he didn't like or trust telepaths. But he finally acceded to the request and nodded once.

The captain glanced back to the screen. The Shadows shouldn't be in Quadrant 23, but he couldn't assume that. He faced Delenn. "Last thing. I want to send the White Star to scout the ambush site. There's no point planning all this if the Shadows already have a presence there. But we need a Ranger to command it, since none of us can go."

Delenn exchanged a glance with Stockton, who answered the silent inquiry, "Tomita, I think. Deronn and Inesval will stay here."

She nodded sharply in agreement. "I will dispatch the ship as soon as we are finished here."

"Good. We're almost done." Sheridan leaned forward, putting his hands flat on the table and looking at each one in turn. "Commander, you'll speak to the Drazi. Take Mr. Stockton if you need to remind them of their agreement with the Rangers. The rest of us need to negotiate some ships from our allies." He took one fortifying breath. "Let's do it, people."

*** * ***

Delenn knew all that had to be done, but for the moment she was content to watch John. He was in his element, discussing the details of his plan with G'Kar. So strong, so fierce...

Strange, that she, former Satai of the religious caste, should feel so strongly about a member of another race's warrior caste. But she thought she would be happy just to be able to look at John the rest of her life.

She remembered the feel of his lips on hers, and a tingly warmth rushed through her body. John didn't know it, but to Minbari a kiss was the tenth ritual of marriage, an intimacy only for the bedroom between mates, after the shon'fal...

Humans were always doing things too quickly, and out of the proper order.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ambassador?" His low voice, so close to her, made her start with embarrassment to have been caught in a reverie. She raised her head to see John there, watching her.

G'Kar and Garibaldi had left, and Ivanova and Stockton were conferring by the wall terminal, leaving her and John momentarily alone.

"A penny?" she asked as a reflex, to hide any reflections of where her thoughts had been straying. She knew what a penny was -- Talia Winters had explained it to her several years ago.

"What are you thinking about?" John restated patiently. "You were smiling."

His eyes reflected his soul, strong but gentle, and under his gaze, she couldn't find it in herself to dissemble. "I was thinking of you."

His face flushed, but he looked pleased. "You were?"

She nodded. "Come to my quarters tonight," she invited softly. "We have," she hesitated, trying to remember the phrase, "unfinished business."

His eyes flared wide in surprise, and his mouth opened, without any sound, as if her words had stunned him speechless.

Her poor John -- he had so much to learn about Minbari.

She rose to her feet and touched his hand. "But that is for later. I must contact my government and bring us ships. Contact me when you are prepared to meet with Ambassador She'lah."

She left him, Lennier trailing behind her. On the second level, she turned back to look down at him and found he was still watching her.

There was much to do between now and tonight. Several hours of negotiations lay ahead.

Yet she could not begrudge the work, when such a reward lay at the end of the day.