upon her, and there was music everywhere. And in a giddy, exhilarated state of mind, she thought, I've died and gone to heaven. And I have found perfection.
Then the darkness retreated before the light, and the last thing she heard within her was ...
. . . You could not be more wrong. And you will come to understand that. . . .
. . . And we will be waiting there when you do. . . .
Eighteen months later...
In some ways, it was a shame that Captain John Sheridan, commander of Babylon 5, was unaware that all life in the galaxy-and possibly the universe-shortly would be facing complete and utter annihilation. It might have enabled him to put the concerns of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds into their proper perspective.
As it was, he stood in front of a group of representatives, clean-shaven and crisp in his black uniform, trying to quell their fears and only being partly successful. He couldn't blame them entirely. They were frightened, but none of them wished to admit it. So they covered the fear with blustering, boasting, and outright impertinence. They not only wanted to know what he was going to do about their concerns, but what he was going to do right that very second.
It was the middle of the Earth year 2261. The year between wars, and the beginning of a new age. The Shadow War was over, but there was still a darkness waiting back on Earth. Babylon 5 had broken away from Earth, and in retaliation President Clark had quarantined them, trying to strangle B5's supply lines. Those aboard the station were becoming desperate and couldn't afford to lose even a single supply ship. And that desperation was reflected in the faces of the League representatives.
"What are we supposed to tell our people?" one of them demanded. "Every day