found Lorien's refusal to choose a side maddening; only now did he realize the First One's great foresight in anticipating the ultimate results of their conflict.
With his limited abilities, Kosh did not sense Lorien. He lived deep inside the planet, and had not emerged, so far as Kosh knew, for many millennia. He had been important to the ancient enemy, a guiding beacon, when they were young. Still he was important to them as part of their heritage, though Kosh believed Lorien had faded into little more than a legend. Perhaps he had left this place.
If he was here, he would not interfere-not after all these years. He had withdrawn from the war. It was not his war. It was not his fault. Kosh could find no cause for hope.
He could communicate with Sheridan, if he was prepared. As Sheridan had comforted him in the moment of his death, so he might do the same. It was only seventy-four seconds away.
Ahead, a second tunnel led off to their right. Sheridan knew that the enemy wanted to control his course, and that his only hope of escape lay in avoiding the enemy's design. Sheridan pressed himself against the right wall, and with a quick swing of his head, peeked down the new tunnel. The rock beside him exploded with plasma fire, and he jerked back. He brought his gun up to his chest and, with a deep breath, leaned again into the open, fired a burst of shots. As the attackers, two Drakh, returned fire, the ceiling above Sheridan collapsed, stones raining down on him. He fell under the onslaught, pain erupting in his head, shoulder. The Drakh ceased their attack, and the tunnel grew silent. After a few seconds, Sheridan staggered to his feet, continued down the tunnel in the direction the enemy had chosen for him.
After a few more seconds, he realized he had lost