difficulties and divisions they'd begun with, they'd managed to come together into a crack operating team.
"The entire crew performed admirably, General. I'd like to recommend Lieutenants Ross and Spano for commendations. "
"You write them, I'll sign them," the general said.
"It sounds like you need to layover for some repairs."
"How would the Agamemnon like to be a part of the honor guard of ships at the dedication of Babylon 5? I believe you could make your repairs there and receive assistance in the treatment of your injured. The presence of the Agamemnon would serve as a dramatic sign to all interested parties of the strength of our commitment to Babylon 5."
The crew of the command deck looked excitedly at John.
"That would be an honor, sir."
"One well deserved," Lochschmanan said.
"Congratulations on a job well done, Captain."
John leaned back in his chair and smiled.
"Thank you, sir."
* * *
"I've come to bring you their greetings."
Churlstein stood, snowman white, against the darkness of the cave behind him. She'd never quite been conscious of the quality of desperate eagerness that hung around him until now, when it was gone. His arms hung at his sides, no longer working as if to draw out a specific response from someone. His shoulders were back, not hunched forward-in fact, with his head tilted up, he seemed to be striking a rather self-consciously noble pose. Behind the brownish reflection off the faceplate of his EVA helmet, his face was smooth, assured, not wrinkled up in frustration. Anna stood, and with her Donne, one hand still pressing against the side of her helmet, the other holding the gun on Churlstein. Morden remained where he was, and she wondered if he had given up, or if he simply could