For close to twenty years, Jeff had dreamed of this Earth. It was dark, silent and cold. No life, no sign of civilisation shone from its surface, and his ship's speakers emitted only the hiss of interstellar radiation. It looked every bit the world the Minbari had wanted, a dead world they'd fought two years to achieve, the nightmare of every pilot who had served on the Line.
"I wouldn't go down there," Catherine said. Jeff had heard her footsteps, soft on bare decking, but only turned as she took her place beside him.
"As your security advisor, I would say it is insecure," she told him, and he knew she meant the words lightly, but the darkness below had dimmed even her humour.
Jeff sighed and took her hand, squeezing it lightly. "You're right, of course."
"I don't know if English has been invented yet anyway."
"I'd probably catch Black Death."
"With your luck, you would, and then where would the Minbari be?"
But neither of them turned away, instead standing in silence, and watching the sun rise over Earth this one last time.