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to meet him at the rendezvous point in twelve days. But he would not be there.

Galen sent the command to his ship, and it started forward, toward Z'ha'dum and its defenses.

As if materializing out of nothingness, a ship appeared directly in front of him.

Galen stopped his forward motion, the tech surging with anxious energy.

He recognized the distinctive yellow-green coloring, the long, narrow frame with four flowing arms aimed forward, almost like a squid on its side.

The Vorlon ship drew closer, coming up alongside him. The hull rippled, like liquid, gathering in one spot, its thickness growing. With a graceful stretch the material extended from the hull, clamped on to his ship. The Vorlon had docked with him.

The extension was centered on his fore air lock. Perhaps the Vorlon wanted to fight in private. Galen wondered which of them was supposed to pass through the extension. If Galen entered it, the Vorlon could easily kill him simply by breaking the airway and shooting him out into the vacuum.

Galen didn't think the Vorlon was going to come to him, though. If he stunk of Shadows, no doubt his ship did as well.

He went down to the air lock, closed himself between the two thick doors. The atmosphere, temperature, and pressure within the extension matched that in his ship. He opened the outer door, looked down the dimly lit cylindrical extension. The walls were the same yellow-green as the ship's exterior, though they radiated a faint light. The passage was about twenty feet long, eight feet in diameter. At its far end was the hull of the Vorlon's ship.

The flowing, liquid movement that had created the extension-he'd seen it before, in the Shadow building on Thenothk, and the membrane protecting Morden's room. He'd known that the Vorlons utilized
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