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| Volume 3: A Line in the Sand | Part IV: A Line in the Sand |
POWER.... she embraced it, welcomed it, needed it. It engulfed her, surrounded her, filled her.
She had not been sure what to expect upon entering the Heart of the Great Machine, but it had not been this sense of.... togetherness. The feeling that the Machine had always been an integral part of her life and she had simply never realised it until now. It was as much her body now as the bag of flesh and bone that had carried her thus far in her life.
With eyes that hardly seemed her own any more she looked at her companions. The pitiful Ivanova creature lay huddled on the floor, shaking, curled up in a foetal position, the aftermath of Donne's psychic attack still shocking her no doubt.
The others were.... still. Most of them had not reacted yet, their minds slowed, or perhaps that was simply due to her enhanced comprehension. The Narn, Tu'Pari, he understood what had happened and he was ready to act, she knew that much. As yet he had not. He was merely waiting.
As for the humans, the mundanes.... they were motionless. They knew this had not been the plan.
Boggs acted first, raising his PPG. He seemed to be moving incredibly slowly, pointing it at what had been Donne's body. He seemed unaware of the cable that burst from the ground at his feet and gently caressed his leg. A thought, and a burst of electricity flooded through his body. He fell, the weapon slipping from his dead fingers.
"This wasn't what we were told would happen," said Number One angrily. She had not gone for her weapon though. Donne supposed she would have to let her live, then. She would need someone alive after all. For the moment at least.
"There's been.... a change.... of plans...." Donne replied, surprised by the way her voice sounded. Slower, harder, thicker. "What.... loyalty do you owe.... them? Work for.... me and.... you will all.... be.... special."
Number Two moved slightly, but Tu'Pari tapped his arm and forced him back. "Now, now," he said, breathing on his glasses and polishing them. "It never hurts to listen when an offer is being presented. We are.... all ears."
Donne concentrated for a moment, suddenly aware of how to do this. Her consciousness seemed to shift and she was able to step forward, leaving the Machine. She looked back and saw.... herself there. Turning, she regarded her three remaining companions, studying them with senses that were not her own, but extensions of the Machine. All her senses seemed heightened and.... changed. Even her psi abilities were different somehow. She couldn't identify clearly how, she just knew that they were.
"I know what you all want," she said, the words seeming to come from a great distance away. "You...." she raised a holographic arm and pointed at Number One, "your claim to idealism is misplaced. You want a cause, something to fight for. You...." Number Two ".... You want someone to tell you what to do, to give you direction so that you don't have to think about how worthless your life is. And you, Narn, you want revenge, a chance to prove your superiority to those who exiled you."
"Very true," Tu'Pari admitted, smiling. "However, you left out one detail. I also want a huge pile of money. Help provide me with that and you have my services, lady."
"Hold on!" snapped Number One. "We had a deal. This wasn't in it."
"I'm a businessman," the Narn said. "We learned all about how business works from the Centauri. Good faith is an illusion. I have done my share of this contract, so I am open to negotiations. Besides, you can't have failed to grasp the obvious. If we don't agree to help her, then none of us will leave this planet alive."
"Very perceptive," Donne acknowledged. "Think about it, but don't try anything silly. I have...." she looked back at her body in the Machine and felt a moment's trepidation, "some learning to do.
"And then a signal to send."
* * * * * * *
Kats, formerly Satai of the Grey Council, knew weakness when she saw it - and she had seen plenty of it.
There had been a time when she had been held prisoner, her body and soul abused, tormented, tortured. She had dared to lift her head and silently plead for aid from those around her, those who should have been horrified by this mockery of their most sacred place. Many had believed it was what she deserved. Two had recognised her plight, and had made plans accordingly. But two.... two knew that what was happening was wrong, but did nothing, because they were weak and afraid. Later they had tried to redeem themselves, but too late.
The man standing before her was not one of those two, but had he been in the place of Gysiner or Chardhay, he would have reacted in exactly the same fashion. He was weak.
"I bid you welcome to this place, in the service of Holy One Sinoval," said Administrator Callenn formally. He bowed. Holy One Sinoval. He did not even have the courage to call Sinoval by the title he had now adopted - Primarch.
Beside Kats, Kozorr bristled with anger, but she gently touched his arm. She was the diplomat, and although she despised Callenn as much as he did she did not let it mar her temper.
"In his name, it is a pleasure to be here," she replied. Callenn's face smiled, but his eyes showed that he lied. Tarolin 2 had sworn fealty to Sinoval out of fear and weakness, not courage or strength. Callenn had been afraid - of the Drakh, of the humans, of the raiders - and only Sinoval possessed the strength to guard him and his colony.
Still, Tarolin 2 was an old colony, and a powerful one. A reasonably safe place for many of the refugees fleeing from the devastation of Minbar. As long as the leaders knew to whom they owed fealty.
"We have prepared all the records you requested of us. My acolyte here, Ashan, will be happy to show them to you, and help you if you have any questions."
"I thank you for your foresight, Administrator. Primarch Sinoval also thanks you for your loyalty." Callenn visibly flinched at the sound of Sinoval's title.
"Well," he said, evidently searching for a suitable phrase. Kats could tell that Kozorr was enjoying Callenn's discomfort. "We have.... always been loyal to the Holy.... er, the.... Primarch here. Always loyal."
"Your loyalty is beyond question," she said, trying not to smile. "If you do not mind.... it has been a long journey and we are tired...."
"Of course, of course. Quarters have been arranged for you and your staff. Ashan will show you to them. Ashan!" The acolyte stepped forward and bowed briefly.
"This way, Satai," he said, gesturing to them to follow him.
At that very moment the entire top half of the Administration Building was blown apart. In the heavens, jump points began to open and Tak'cha ships flooded in.
The Minbari civil war had just begun.
* * * * * * *
It was almost dawn on Kazomi 7. Valen stood at peace, watching the suns rise. He closed his eyes and let their warmth caress him.
There had been another time, he knew, when he had enjoyed watching the rising of the sun. He had always been an early riser and had often been outside, watching, at dawn. Then he had gone into space, and he had grown accustomed to being in darkness. Now, he was content to see light again.
Are you ready? asked the booming voice in his mind. It felt as though a breeze of air was brushing through his skull, bearing just a trace of melody with it. There were hints of regret in the voice.
"Ready for what?" he asked, although he had a feeling he already knew. No, he wasn't ready. He wanted the uncertainty of the future, rather than the finality of the past. He didn't want to walk into the desert, knowing he would be following his own footsteps all the way.
It is almost time.
"No! I'm not ready. I'm not going back. I'm...." He stopped, and bowed his head. He would have to go back, he knew that. Destiny, the future, the past.... everything depended on him. He had never asked to be this fulcrum, but still, it had been thrust upon him.
"Yes. I'm ready."
No. But you will be. Know the past. Know the future. Be one with yourself. Then you will be ready.
He did not ask what that meant, as no explanation would have been forthcoming even if he had. Sighing, he felt the voice leave him, and he turned back to the sunsrise.
Know the past. How could he know the past? He could barely remember anything before stepping into the Temple of Varenni. Fragments, nothing more. He could remember more about people he had never met than about the people who had once shared his heart. Marrain, Nukenn, Zathras.... all these were more alive to him than the brother he barely recalled, or his parents, or.... Catherine....
"Catherine," he whispered. She more than anyone else he should be able to remember. He had tried pushing back the boundaries of his memories, but to little avail. Her name, her eyes, the faintest hint of her scent.... nothing else.
"Know the past," he said softly.
"Talking to yourself is meant to be one of the first signs of madness," said a voice from behind him. Slowly, unsure of what he was hearing, he straightened, and turned. "But then, if you want to become a Minbari and start acting like one of their Gods, then I guess you're way past that stage, hmm?"
It was her!
"Catherine?"
She smiled. "Hello, Jeffrey."
* * * * * * *
They called him the Starkiller, the last hope of humanity, the scourge of the Minbari, the greatest living captain. They had called him those things before he had betrayed them, before he had allied himself with the Minbari, and even dared fall in love with one of them. Little about John Sheridan was now common knowledge. People did not like to think about him, even after the recent victories. When they did speak of him they did so in hushed voices as if he were gone forever, in tones of reverence for the nobly dead.
Such an ironic prophecy was nearly true, for John Sheridan was dying. He did not talk about it, save to the one person who had become closer to him than anyone he had ever known. Indeed, only two others even knew of his fate.
He was not afraid of death, and he had already made his plans for dealing with the situation when it became necessary.
He had never been afraid of death, but he was afraid now. The instincts that had kept him alive for so long were screaming at him. Something was happening, or was going to happen, and he was not in control of it. That frightened him.
Not long ago he had received a message, short, but strange. It did not seem to make sense, and yet it was the kind of message he could not ignore.
Breathing in slowly, he rang the door chime, which was answered almost immediately with a "Yes?" The mere sound of that voice made him smile. He could have spent all day doing nothing but listen to it.
"It's me, Delenn. Can I come in?"
"Always," she replied. He knew she would be smiling and sure enough, when the door opened and he stepped inside, she was. She glided across the floor to meet him, her smile lighting up the room. "I thought you were running drills on the Parmenion tonight," she said. "Or did you finish early just to be with me?"
"No.... ah, not that I didn't want to.... it's just that...." He paused, catching his breath, and his thoughts. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No. I was just going over the proposals put forward by the Drazi Government. They seem to think they are entitled to a larger share in the Alliance than we are giving them. It is nothing, but even if it were important, I would put it aside for the moment." She looked at him closely. "John.... is something wrong?"
"Yes.... ah, no.... I don't know. Have you seen G'Kar recently?"
"No, not since.... this morning. Why?"
"I got a strange message from Bester just now. An order, more like. It sounds as if there's something major going on. He's.... recalling me to Sanctuary."
She frowned. "Did he give a reason?"
"No, none. That's why I wanted to see G'Kar. See if he knows anything. This is.... it just has a bad feel about it. Not to mention that with the Parmenion gone, and the Ozymandias as well, there'll be only the Alliance ships left to defend this place if anything goes wrong."
"There is also the Great Machine, which is more than capable of defending the station. You remember the first time we saw it?" He nodded. "Still, this might be a cause for concern. Perhaps we should try to find G'Kar."
He nodded again. "Now?"
"No time like the present." Smiling, he took her arm and they left her quarters, his long stride consciously slowed to match her shorter one.
As they began to walk down the corridor however, they encountered two figures coming the other way. Sheridan started and stiffened, and he knew Delenn had noticed the tension in his arm.
He looked at the two men closely. Captain Ari Ben Zayn and his telepath, Harriman Gray. Bester's men through and through. Both men had noticed them and while Gray looked uneasy, Ben Zayn consciously straightened his bearing and stopped, waiting for Sheridan and Delenn to approach him.
"I thought I'd find you with her," Ben Zayn said, addressing Sheridan directly without a glance at Delenn. "Didn't you receive your orders, then?"
"I received them," came the careful reply. Sheridan was looking directly at Gray, who seemed.... fascinated by his gaze. That was still better than looking at Ben Zayn. The man was a career soldier, with years more experience than Sheridan himself. His scar seemed to bleed as Sheridan looked at it. "I was just looking for G'Kar to...."
"And have you started working for G'Kar now, Captain?" he snapped. "You work for Bester. The Parmenion is his ship, its crew are his men and you are his soldier. Have you forgotten that?"
"No, Captain, I haven't. But Bester did post me here to safeguard this project of G'Kar's, as well as to maintain general order in the League and Alliance worlds, as per G'Kar's wishes. My exact post was, if I remember the term correctly, Bester's liaison with G'Kar."
"Yes, I am completely aware of that, but now Bester has requested your presence on Sanctuary. This supersedes your posting here. You are to come along.... now, or your ship and your crew will have to go without you."
"You know as well as I do that at least half of that crew is mine."
"And they will obey the orders of Major Krantz just as well as they would yours. If they do not do so, then they can easily be replaced. You have your orders, Captain. So, unless your recent freedom has affected your ability to obey them, I expect to see the Parmenion leaving here within the hour. Do you understand me?"
"I understand you perfectly well! But I have my responsibilities here, to G'Kar, to this station, to...." He stopped as he felt Delenn tapping his arm gently.
"Go, John," she said. "We will be fine here." He started to speak, to protest, but his words were stifled by her kiss. "I love you," she said softly, so softly it was hardly audible. "Go."
She stepped back and, with a twirl, turned and went back towards her quarters. Sheridan focussed his gaze on Ben Zayn. "We will be gone within the hour," he snapped. "And if this is no emergency, we will be back here equally quickly. Good day, Captain."
He stormed down the corridor without saying another word.
* * * * * * *
Lord Jarno stood at his window looking out at the streets of his city, and shivered. It was night-time and yet the city was lit as if it were day. Not just by lights, but by the fires.
They had been burning for days, it seemed - in the warehouse sector, the peasant villages, the fields, even in the streets themselves. Where each inferno blazed, someone stood in the centre of it, screaming that the Shadow was coming.
Jarno did not need to be told about the Shadow, he saw it every night in his dreams. The sky was blacked out by the appearance of countless billions of ships, each one screaming inside his mind.
Shadow Criers they called themselves. Madness, but an enlightened madness. They preached that everything would burn, all would be destroyed when the Darkness came.
"Still looking outside? Why bother? The City Guard will put out the fires eventually, that's what they're there for, after all. And then they'll find out who did it and execute them. Come back to bed."
He did not turn from the window at the sound of her voice. Many times over the last year he had begun to wonder why he had ever listened to it in the first place. He had always been ambitious.... before, but for the greater glory of the Republic, not for his own advancement.
But then he had begun to listen to her and old dreams had begun to surface. At first they had sounded so reasonable. Of course the Republic needed strength, now more than ever. Good people had been ignored by the Court for too long and if it took something a little.... extreme to force them to recognise that, then so be it.
Somewhere along the way, however, it had all gone wrong. He didn't know where. From the moment she had first manoeuvred him into her bed, making a mockery of his marriage vows? From the death of Emperor Refa perhaps? Maybe from the emergence of the first Shadow Crier. Maybe it had always been wrong and he had simply never noticed until now.
"Jarno dear," continued the petulant voice, and he sighed. "Stop looking outside. You know it only upsets you. There's something much more interesting for you to look at over here...."
He sighed again and silently cursed his own weaknesses. Perhaps they were why he had never risen as far as he felt he should have risen.
"The city is burning," he muttered softly. "The city.... is burning."
"Only the parts of it that don't matter. The Guard will never let the fires get anywhere near the Noble Quarter."
"People are dying."
"People who don't matter. The peasants. There will always be more of them around."
He sighed again and nodded. He was considering returning to bed when his commscreen beeped. Turning towards it, he suppressed a surge of fear. Who could possibly be contacting him at this time of night? This could be nothing good.
"I'm sorry, my lord," spoke the voice of his aide over the commchannel. "I will tell the Lord Kiro that you are unable to take his call at the moment...."
Lord Kiro? Jarno swallowed harshly. "No. I'll take it now." He moved over to the screen, watching as his companion awkwardly pulled the sheets up to cover herself.
The image came into view on the screen, and Jarno looked at his fellow noble. Once, many years before, the two had been friends, fostered together at his uncle's estate. A million years ago now. Both of them had changed too much, and neither made any mention of that time in their childhood.
"What is the meaning of this, Jarno?" Kiro asked. He looked positively apoplectic.
"The meaning of what, Kiro? Do you know what time it is?"
"Of course I know the time, and you know full well what I am referring to! I have been at my estates all week, and when I return, not half an hour ago, I find guardsmen all around my house here. My servants tell me that no one has been allowed to enter or leave since they arrived, and the guards tell me they were ordered there by you! What is the meaning of this, Jarno?"
Jarno straightened automatically at Kiro's tone, even though he could not dispute the rightfulness of his anger. Jarno knew nothing of any such guardsmen, but he still maintained his composure. "It behoves us all to act as nobles, Kiro. Perhaps you have forgotten that."
"Forgotten! Jarno, I will ask you one last time. What is the meaning of this outrage? If I do not receive an answer then I will have to take this matter to the Centarum, and have you arrested."
"Your tone does not befit you, Lord Kiro. This conversation is at an end. I trust we will be able to speak later, when you are suitably calmed." Kiro made to reply, but Jarno cut the transmission. He then turned to his companion.
"Very masterful," she said, discarding the covers and rising from the bed. "I did not know you had it in you." She smiled. "I was very impressed."
"You did that, didn't you?"
"I took a few.... little liberties with your personal seal and your personal guards."
"Not to mention my person. The Emperor's Name, why?"
She began dressing herself, not in one of her usual fine gowns, but in the more utilitarian costume she wore when she was doing something surreptitious. Close, tight-fitting hunting clothes. "Officially.... reasons of security of course. In Lord Kiro's absence his house was vulnerable to attack from those insane Shadow Criers. Someone had to protect him."
Jarno folded his arms high on his chest. "And unofficially?"
"He has his own ambitions for the throne, of course."
"Well of course he does. So does half of the Court. And the other half, come to that."
"Yes, but Kiro is just open enough to make an attempt, and he has the lineage to succeed as well. Don't forget that his House once held the throne."
"I haven't forgotten, and nor have I forgotten how they lost it."
"In any case, Kiro has been away gathering support in his southern estates. He may even be contemplating an alliance with dear old Londo, anything that would further his chances of the throne. We have to deal with him before that can happen."
"That's what this is about, isn't it? Kiro was in talks with your husband."
"My ex-husband. Don't forget he is legally dead. And yes, there is that, but more importantly, you are going to take over Kiro's House and estates, which will be a great step towards the throne. And you are going to do it tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Yes. A little premature I'll admit, but my sources said that Kiro wasn't due to return for another few days. I'll have to have some of them shot." Mariel smiled and moved closer to Jarno, reaching up to touch his face. "Come on, dear. We have work to do."
"Work? Attacking another Lord's house? Such a thing has not been done for centuries."
"Great men are not bound by normal rules, Jarno. The first Emperor said that, remember. And behind every great man, there is a great woman showing him how to do it right. Get dressed, quickly. We had better get my dear sister-wife as well. We may need her testimony that we were provoked if matters do not go well."
"I can't do this. I...." He looked at her, and he could feel all his old weaknesses rising to the fore. She was right of course. Great men were not bound by normal rules. But was he a great man?
Would he ever be?
Pitifully, pathetically, hopelessly, he nodded, and went to get dressed.
* * * * * * *
There was power, but not as she had expected; knowledge, but not as she had anticipated; wisdom, but not as she had wished.
And there was something else, a nagging, burning sensation that the Machine was doing.... something. She did not know what, and she could not find out.
Furious, Donne shifted her consciousness to her holographic form and let it step out into view. As she looked at her companions she was struck by their weakness. The two mundanes were the worst. Number One and Number Two were seated in the far corner of the cavern, ostensibly on watch, but actually talking about their concerns in hushed voices they presumably believed she could not hear.
Ivanova was still comatose, curled up like a tiny baby. From time to time pathetic whimpers escaped from her mouth.
And Tu'Pari.... he was sitting cross-legged next to the equally comatose G'Kar. The Narn assassin was sharpening his long, wicked knife with a methodical air, gazing distantly at the walls.
"Wake him up," Donne ordered Tu'Pari. He smiled, set down the knife, and began to reach into one of his pockets. Whatever strange device he was planning to use however, he did not get the chance. G'Kar opened one eye and stirred.
"I am already awake," he said in a hoarse voice. "I was.... remembering.... the night the Centauri took over.... a farmhouse.... near Na'khamamah. It was a.... rebel base.... We waited until.... dusk and...." He coughed. "We.... killed.... them all...."
"An interesting story, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar," Tu'Pari said idly. "If you wished to trade stories of death you should have told me. I have a great many of them."
"No." G'Kar tried to shake his head. "Not death. The.... last Centauri.... looked at me.... knowing he was going to die.... The look.... in his.... eyes. I will.... never forget." He smiled, and then broke into another coughing fit. "I see it.... in.... yours.... now."
"Shut up," Donne snapped. "The Machine is doing something. Whatever it is, I can't get close enough to find out and stop it. What is it doing?"
"Many things."
"Something programmed into it. You did it, I'm certain of that, and it has something to do with that blasted station of yours. What is it doing?"
"Never.... find out.... Never.... make the Machine.... yours...."
"Reality check. It is mine."
G'Kar shook his head weakly.
"Tu'Pari. Hurt him."
"I am.... not.... afraid.... to die."
"I've heard that before," Tu'Pari said in a civilised tone. "Many many times. And they all took it back before the end. How permanent do you want this, my lady?"
"I want him capable of sharing everything he knows with me. Leave his head alone. And stay away from any major blood vessels and muscle concentrations. You know more about Narn biology than I do. I want something painful, but not too devastating."
"Happy to oblige, my lady. I was in the Resistance once. That was where I learned much of my skill. G'Kar was something of a legend for his capacity to absorb pain. This might take a while."
"Not too long. If he hasn't told us anything in.... half an hour or so.... take out his eye."
"Business and pleasure combined," the assassin said, smiling. "How fortunate."
Donne suddenly looked up. Someone was.... coming. She wasn't entirely sure how she knew, but some sense not her own alerted her that someone was approaching. A few moments later the sound of a voice was heard.
"Zathras do this, Zathras do that. Zathras go check on G'Kar. Zathras not doing anything important, oh no. Zathras just checking temporal units in place, yes. Not important at all. Zathras not mind if whole station slip back in time thousand years. No, wait. Yes, Zathras do mind. That would be not good.
"Ah, is bad life being Zathras. Zathras does not mind though. He.... Ah, you is not meant to be being here?"
The strangest alien Donne had ever seen came into view. He hesitated for a moment, looking around, seemingly taking in everything in one swift glance: Donne's body in the Machine, G'Kar on the floor.
"Ah. Zathras be leaving now."
He turned to flee, and ran straight into Number One. She pushed him roughly forward and he fell sprawling to the floor.
"This not good. No, not good at all."
"That, my friend," said Tu'Pari, "very much depends on your perspective."
* * * * * * *
I am not afraid.
I am a warrior; born of warriors, bred of warriors, lived as a warrior, trained as a warrior, called a warrior by the greatest warrior of all. I am not afraid.
The captain in charge of the Valentha repeated those words to himself as he tried to restore order to the ship he had been given control of by the Primarch. He remembered the surprise and horror as this holy ship had been given a captain who was not of the Satai for the first time in known history.
He also remembered his pride. The Primarch had told him that the Valentha was to be used differently now. It was to be both a focus of faith for the people and a warship, the foremost in the fleet. The captain's heart had surged with pride.
And now, his first battle on his new ship, and he had been beaten, forced to retreat like the tiniest of goks.
There had only been three ships in the Tarolin system when the invaders arrived. The Yojiro had fallen within seconds, torn apart by blow after blow. The Seppun had been at the far end of the system and had received the warning to pull back and regroup with the Valentha. These invaders, whoever they were, were too strong to deal with individually.
Mere seconds of combat had proved that.
"Are the communications back on line yet?"
The captain smiled when he received an affirmative. "Send a message to the Primarch. He must know about this, and now."
"Should we not counterattack now? Shai Alyt Kozorr and Lady Kats are still on the planet."
"Kozorr is a warrior, and if the worker wishes to play with warriors then she had better learn the strength of one. No, Hor Alyt, we need the Primarch. With him at our side not all the forces of Hell could stand against us."
"Will he be here in time?"
"He is the Primarch. Of course he will be."
* * * * * * *
The general sense of chaos that gripped the Babylon 4 station began to take hold less than an hour after G'Kar's forced removal from the Heart of the Great Machine. When the survivors looked back and histories and recordings were made, it was established that the problems had in fact begun much earlier. Perhaps even at the commencement of the project. Those whose views tended towards the short-sighted argued that the station should never have been constructed. Minister Vizhak had argued that at the first meeting of the United Alliance Council after the Battle that would be known as the Third Line. Far too many agreed with him.
Even before the.... incidents of the night in question, there had been numerous unexplained happenings on the station. Bad dreams, strange visions. Certain areas of the station were said to be haunted and few would go there.
Few people had been able to sleep well that night, many waking to a sense of unexplained urgency and fear. There were reports of people rousing only to find themselves looking at images of things that had already happened, or perhaps had yet to happen. Mysterious voices and sounds were heard.
Even the legendary Primarch Sinoval, whose nickname of the Cursed was not yet in public use, was said to be uneasy about the station. This was never confirmed by the man himself, and those who were aware of his bargain with the Soul Hunters found it unlikely that anything could unnerve him. Indeed, some laid the blame for the mysteries at the door of the Soul Hunters, claiming that allowing them on the station was a bad omen. No comment came from Cathedral.
If there was one instant that the inhabitants of the station came to regard as the turning point - being largely unaware of events on the planet below - it was the moment when they heard of the departure of Captain Sheridan. He had been renowned among the Narns and infamous among the Minbari for many years, but his recent actions in support of the League and Alliance worlds had won him many friends there as well. The news of his sudden departure did not go down well.
Delenn, who unlike Sinoval had not yet acquired the nickname that would later be synonymous with her real name, was acutely aware of the tensions on the station. She had been unable to rest or meditate following John's departure and so she had tried going for a walk. She was horrified by what she saw - people running around, crying out for peace, weeping in corners. She watched helplessly, in horror, as a young Brakiri child bit out her own tongue in a frenzy.
"Valen's Name, what is happening?" she breathed.
She had made her way at last to the command room, and was not surprised to find many of the dignitaries already there. Ta'Lon was fielding increasingly angry questions from Taan Churok and Lethke, while Mr. Garibaldi and Dr. Kirkish were talking quietly. There was no sign of Sinoval, or of G'Kar.
"Mr. Garibaldi?" she asked, curiously. "Have you not been recalled to Sanctuary?"
He looked up, surprised. "Why should I have been?"
"John and Captain Ben Zayn have been. I.... assumed there was a major problem there and Bester was recalling as many of his agents as possible."
"News to me. I haven't heard directly from the Boss in months."
Ta'Lon suddenly slammed his fist on the table. "This will get us nowhere! Minister Churok, Minister Lethke, there is only one person who can explain what is happening here and we have no idea where he is. The Machine has not been acknowledging any of my messages, and the person I sent down to try to find G'Kar has not reported back."
"Then something must have gone wrong," protested Taan Churok. "We should investigate."
"We should leave," said Lethke calmly.
"That will not be necessary," Ta'Lon protested. "I will go down to the surface myself and try to find G'Kar. I will also take as many of my Ranger security team as can be spared from maintaining order here. That may not be very many."
"We have some of our own Security.... on board our ships," Delenn said. "We will be happy to lend you whatever assistance we can." She glared at Taan Churok and Lethke, and they fell silent.
"Thank you," Ta'Lon said, nodding. "They would be better employed on the station. The Machine.... is a concern for G'Kar and the Rangers, and no one else."
"You forgot the Boss on that one," Garibaldi said. "He's got a stake in this too. Perhaps more than anyone except G'Kar. I'd better go down with you. Besides, you might need another pair of hands."
"Me too," spoke up Dr. Kirkish. "I was sent here to study the Machine for Mr. Bester, after all. I think I know more about it than most other people here. I might be able to help."
Delenn looked at the two of them, a sense of paranoia creeping over her. Ben Zayn had been very insistent that John leave this place. Coincidence? A genuine emergency at Sanctuary - but how genuine could it be if Garibaldi knew nothing about it? Or was there something deeper at work here? Just how much could Bester be trusted?
She was about to open her mouth and voice her opinions when she swayed and almost fell. A bright light burst in front of her eyes.
The light is killing me!
She was with John, holding him. He looked so....
"We've won!" he cried. "It's over, Delenn."
"Yes," she said, laughing. "It's over. It...."
Something rose up before them, swamping everything with its shadow. She could not see what it was. It was huge. A light burst out, burning and blazing. John threw her aside and turned to face it.
The light is killing me!
She felt strong hands catch her and turned to see Taan Churok, his stern face filled with compassion.
"You saw something?" asked Ta'Lon. She could only nod weakly. "Another one. This will only get worse as time goes on. We must leave for the surface immediately. Mr. Garibaldi, Dr. Kirkish, gather whatever you need and meet me at the docking bays. Minister Churok, Minister Lethke, can you bring over as much of your Security as you can spare from your ships?"
"What if what's afflicting this place starts affecting people on our ships?" asked Lethke.
Ta'Lon shook his head. "It won't."
"How do you know?" Taan Churok gently released Delenn and rounded on the Narn, who was almost as big as he was. "Do you know what is causing all this?"
"No," the Narn lied. "We must hurry. Go. Now!"
Angrily, the Drazi and the Brakiri left, both of them casting brief glances at Delenn. The two humans had already gone, leaving Delenn alone with the Ranger. "You do know," she said, not accusingly, just with a sure and certain conviction.
"Yes," he said. "You know about the destiny of this station?" She nodded, remembering with uncomfortable pain the time she and John had seen it, two years before, travelling backwards in time on a terrifying journey. "Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar built the station in the hope that it could serve as a focus point in this struggle against the Shadow. He knew however that it had another destiny. It would go back in time a thousand years, and take Valen back with it. Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar had no idea of what would happen to Valen, or from where he would come. He knew only that it was his task to build this place.
"The temporal rift to take the station back in time would have to come from the Great Machine. One of the first things the Ha'Cormar'ah did upon taking custody of the Machine was to establish how to open the rift.
"The station was built with the temporal machinery already within it, devices that came from the Machine, for the purpose of stabilising it on its trip back. The rift was already partially created when the station was finished. Like a door, held ever so slightly ajar. Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar hoped that when the day came, opening the rift would be easy, and the journey effortless.
"I fear that the Machine has begun to open the temporal rift further in recent months. Why, I do not know, but something has happened on the planet, and it jeopardises not only the station, but all our futures."
Delenn nodded, feeling very burdened by the weight of these revelations. Some she already knew, but not all. "Why have you told me all this?"
"Only Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, myself and Zathras know all of this. If I do not return from the planet...." He reverently touched the hilt of the longsword fixed to his back. "If I do not return, then someone else must know, and carry forth the future.
"And you, Delenn, you were the beloved of Neroon, for whom I would have given my life."
She sighed. Neroon. She had all but forgotten him recently. How could she have done that? He had once meant everything to her.
"Walk with Valen, Ta'Lon," she said softly.
"G'Quan be with you. The Prophet G'Kar as well." He turned and left.
Delenn shook her head sadly, and looked around at the empty chamber. There was still much to be done. She contemplated sending a message to John, but then swiftly decided against it. She had no proof of any improprieties perpetrated by Bester, and there might well be a genuine emergency that needed John and the Parmenion. She would only call John when she was certain they all needed him, not just that she wanted him.
But Sinoval at least was here. Her heart heavy, she set off in search of him.
She did not have long to look.
He came up the corridor, not running, but striding at a considerable pace. Even the Soul Hunter leader beside him seemed to be having trouble keeping up. "Sinoval," she said, with a start. "There is a problem here. We need...."
He interrupted her, shaking his head. "Your need must wait, Delenn. Tarolin Two has been attacked by an unknown force. I heard about it only just now. I was coming to find either you or G'Kar, and tell you that I am leaving immediately."
"Leaving? But...."
"I know where my loyalties lie, Delenn. To my people. Tarolin Two swore itself to me, and I swore to defend them. You have criticised my loyalty often enough, Delenn."
"No, not your loyalty. That will be the last thing you will ever lose, Sinoval. I sometimes wonder if it is misplaced." She remembered a promise she herself had made, not many months ago. She had renounced her claim to power amongst the Minbari. She had been exiled from them and stripped of all position and authority. Her very appearance now set her apart from them. She chose to accept only those who accepted her, those who did not wish to ally themselves with any faction seeking war.
"Go then, Sinoval. Your loyalties are.... where they should be."
"I thank you, Delenn. As soon as Tarolin Two is safe, I will see what I can do about returning here."
"Go. And.... Valen be with you."
"I certainly hope not, Delenn, but I appreciate the sentiment. And you."
He left, hurrying down the corridor, three Soul Hunters following. Delenn felt a chill as she watched them pass.
No matter how much time passed, she would never get used to Sinoval's allies. Never.
She hurried back towards the command room. There was still work to do.
* * * * * * *
It is time. Things are moving faster than even I had expected. I am not sure if that is not the real tragedy of this, just how little I had to do to get matters to the situation I wanted. Were we always this close to disaster?
Malachi, First Minister of the Centauri Republic sat back, sighing. He had been looking at the viewscreen for almost an hour, thinking dark thoughts and considering making the call that could end this for good. The cold logic of his plan said that he shouldn't - there had already been enough interruptions from that quarter. But the warmth of idealistic friendship said that he should. Londo had a right to know, more than anyone else.
But would he understand?
Malachi could smell the smoke on the wind. He had left all the windows in his chamber open for that very purpose, even though it brought in the bitter cold. He needed the smoke. It was a reminder of what his plan had brought about.
The city and the Court were on the edge of disaster. Nobles had been growing ever more suspicious of each other for months, and their slow gathering of near-armies for 'protection' would inevitably result in this paranoia. The Shadow Criers were spreading chaos and anarchy wherever they went.... yes, and death. Their recent 'murder' of Lord Dugari, coupled with the leak that a noble was supporting them, had only made a bad situation worse, and a horrible possibility a dreadful inevitability.
And Malachi had had to do so little. He had had nothing to do with the death of Lord Dugari, little to do with the gathering of private armies, and had orchestrated only the first few exilings from the Court. He was surprised, and terribly saddened, at just how easy it had been to bring matters to this state.
All it took to destroy an Empire was to kill a ruler, several nobles, subtly spread distrust and misinformation, and put in a little effort where required.
How truly sad.
It would happen tonight. Or if not tonight then within the next few days. The entire planet would be torn apart in fire and blood, and then.... from the ashes.... there would be....
Well, something, anyway.
Malachi had agents in many places. Like any good Centauri he believed in the power of information. His listening device planted in Lord Jarno's chambers had alerted him to Jarno's plan to attack Lord Kiro, and to the part Lady Mariel had played in that decision.
He was also aware of Carn Mollari's presence in the city, goading Lord Valo to ever more rash action.
He knew of the numerous disappearances that could be attributed to the hands of Lady Elrisia and Prince Cartagia. Too many of those who had.... disappeared.... were only peasants, and as such did not matter to many people. Dugari was the only noble they had.... killed. And the blame for his death had been deflected from the two of them with little effort.
He knew of Londo's actions in Selini, and his plans for Camulodo, Sphodria and Gallia. He almost smiled. Londo was the only one who deserved this world.
Malachi had known Londo since his childhood. He had watched the idealistic young politician grow into a bitter and angry man, angry with the world and the universe around him. He had witnessed Londo's seeming rebirth and the hope for the future of the people.
And he had seen it all fall apart.
He had decided. It would all happen tonight: the beginning of the end. Londo had to know. He moved to the viewscreen and sent the signal he had been readying all night.
The screen came to life with the image of, of all things, a Minbari.
"Tell Mini.... Governor Mollari that First Minister Malachi wishes to speak with him."
The Minbari nodded silently and left. A few minutes later Londo's face appeared on the screen.
"Malachi," he said, no hint of warmth in his voice. "What an unexpected surprise."
"Tell me, Londo. How would you like to come to the capital?"
* * * * * * *
Pain and darkness and light.
Kats surfaced into consciousness slowly, bright lights flashing at the edge of her vision. She could hear a voice speaking to her, but the words made no sense. All she saw was his face, and his voice.
Forgiveness, Satai Kats, is the most noble of virtues, do you not agree? But it must be asked for, it must be begged for, it must be recognised for what it is. You have sinned, against our people, against Minbar, against Valen himself. Acknowledge your sin, and beg for forgiveness, and you may yet be redeemed.
Forgive me. I have.... done wrong. Forgive me. For....
".... give me!"
Her eyes opened as she sat upright, her breath coming in short gasps. For a moment she had been with Kalain again, trapped in his mockery of 'forgiveness' and 'redemption'.
She looked around slowly but could see little. She was lying on a thin cot in a darkened room. The only light came from above her head, an arrangement which made her extremely uncomfortable. There was someone next to her, but only when he spoke did she realise it was the acolyte, Ashan.
"You must rest," he said. "You have head injuries."
"What happened?"
"You collapsed. The physicians said it was caused by blood clots blocking out your head membranes. It was serious for a while."
"I.... remember...." She did not know. She had been with Administrator Callenn and Ashan, and then there had been a deafening burst of sound. Unable to hear anything, she had staggered forward and fallen, and.... either her head had hit something or something had fallen on her....
"Where is Shai Alyt Kozorr?" she asked. Something about this whole situation worried her.
"This way. He has been asking about you." Ashan rose to his feet and let her rise as well. Her head ached but she managed to maintain her balance. Ashan made a gesture she could not quite see. It was so dark. Too dark. It....
"Which way?" She turned to try to find him but his silhouette had vanished. There was no sound of his breathing, his movements.... nothing. "Ashan? Where are you?"
"It says that you are evil. I know that you are a worker, and therefore responsible for the doom of our people. It says however that you are evil. It says that you betrayed our people to the Soul Hunters. It says that Kalain tried to purify you, but he was prevented from doing so. It says I must continue where he failed.
"It says I must kill you."
"Who says?" she asked slowly, her heart pounding. Her head ached so much. She could barely move. She....
Her arm burst into pain and she felt the warmth as her blood spilled out. Clutching it, letting out a cry of agony, she fell. "Ashan," she pleaded. "What are you doing?"
There was silence for a long while. She struggled to rise. All she could see was the light above her. She could hear Kalain's voice roaring in her mind.
"It says you must die."
"Ashan?" Something whirled past her face and she recoiled in pain. Blood began to drip down into her eyes. "Why...?"
Forgiveness.... We will grant you forgiveness, Satai Kats, but it must be asked for. No, it must be begged for. Beg for my forgiveness, worker bitch! Beg!
"For.... give...." She tried to breathe, tried to focus. Something was pounding in her ears. She could not see anything. She could taste her own blood. She could feel her skin tingling with the memory of Kalain's tortures. She....
Forgiveness! BEG FOR MY FORGIVENESS!
Outside the door of one of the few buildings remaining intact in the main city of Tarolin 2, a Tak'cha readied himself to enter.
* * * * * * *
"They're coming."
Tu'Pari looked up, the only one seemingly interested in her now. G'Kar was lying at his feet, blood coming from places Donne had not even known existed. She had killed a great many people, but now she knew she was in the presence of a master. If only he had had telepathic powers he might well have been worthy of her respect, perhaps even her admiration.
"Who?"
"Someone come to see what is happening here. We will be ready for them. Do you want to tell me what this Machine is doing, G'Kar? Or should I perhaps use your new friends as leverage?"
"You.... will.... never.... control.... the Machine...." He made a strange noise, one which caused even Tu'Pari to start. It sounded like laughter. "Never...."
"You will tell me, or I will destroy everything that is yours. You will...." Her holographic form smiled. "Very well. I was getting bored here." She blinked, and with the work of a moment, it was done. "There. Now, G'Kar, your little dream house of paper and glue will be set alight. I wager you will be able to hear the screams even from here."
"Never.... win...." He fell silent again.
"Idiot. I have won. Come and get me, Captain Smith. You'll scream just as loud as the rest."
* * * * * * *
The skies around Babylon 4 and Epsilon 3 were filled with the inrush of energy as four jump points opened. Out swept the ships of the Resistance Government of Humanity, resplendent in their glory and certainty, convinced of the rightness of their position.
The following message was received by the Command and Control of Babylon 4:
"This is Captain Dexter Smith of the EAS Babylon. This station, this planet, this area of space and all peoples and objects and technologies herein are as of this moment placed under the control of the Resistance Government of Humanity. Stand down all weapons and prepare to be boarded. Any resistance will be met with deadly force.
"You have five minutes to comply."