Home
[G'Kar went to the catacombs, and was rescued against his will. Now he has returned.]

Home. Such as it is, Babylon 5, the last best hope -- hah! -- for outcasts and wayfairers and people too foolish to leave when they should.

I suppose I am grateful to have such a place to call home; grateful, yes, to be alive, though I would not have suffered much consternation had it turned out the other way, despite what some people might think. Tu'Pari is dead, and that will have to be enough. For if it is not, then all this trouble, all we have gone through -- I cannot even think of it.

I find, I cannot think of much, today. I am bone-weary, melancholy, confused. It may be that Na'Toth is no longer speaking to me, though I hope that she will accept my apologies and remember that I am her friend. Crichton, Damar, brought into harm's way to save this? Me? This worthless Narn? I can only hope that they did not consider it too much of a trial, and that Crichton's wounds heal well and swiftly.

As for Mollari -- for it is always "as for Mollari" -- I think I would rather not speak of him just now.

I think, for today, I will simply sit, and read, and listen to the interminable and dreary sound of my heart yet again breaking.