Half shadow, half spider, it hung before them, all sharp spikes and razor edges. Blacker than space; a darkness well beyond anything in human experience. Light seemed to slide off it; to cower from it; to skitter away, and hide itself in places unseen. Ivanova could only sympathise. And they were to fight these things? These shadows that light itself seemed to fear? Beside her, Marcus whispered something in Minbari – a prayer, she thought – then flashed her a wholly incongruous grin. She smiled back. And why not? When light itself was afraid, what else was there to do but smile?