off walls, ceiling, and floor in pursuit. Sheridan's mind raced even as his body did. What the hell was that thing which was coming after him? A sentinel of some sort? Something as mundane as a technician, overseeing the final jump? God in heaven, did they all look like that? He was actually on the verge of becoming nostalgic for the Shadows.
"One minute twenty seconds," the computer told him.
* * *
The fleet was locked in pitched battle, realizing that the end had come. The end of the fight, the end of Humanity's time in the galaxy, the end of every other sentient race. The fight was here, now. There was no point in looking down the road to possible future battles against the malignant armada. Every single remaining Starfury and White Star and cruiser knew without question that here and now occurred the final stand of the Min-bari, of the nonaligned races, and of Humankind. Because if this battle were lost, then every other battle which would ensue would prove to be an extended mopping up operation mounted by the fleet of invaders.
And the mother ship, in its assured manner, was already halfway through the hole it had punched in the cosmos. It was, quite simply, the biggest thing that Ivanova or Delenn had ever seen: miles long, bigger than any ship, bigger than some planets. "Halfway through" was purely a subjective guess; it seemed to extend out into eternity. An eternity of darkness that was about to fall.
Lennier couldn't believe that this one aging Human was giving him such a difficult time. He should have been able to dispatch him with ease. But Leo was being propelled by some sort of inner fury that was beyond anything Lennier had ever encountered in anything, Human or otherwise. It was as if he were battling the darkness of the soul incarnate.