As for the former Lord — General, he had disappeared following his exile, and was widely believed to have been murdered by agents of the Court. However, while there was a large bounty on his head and assassination attempts had been made, he was very far from dead, and was engaged in very private dealings elsewhere.
LADY KEELA SHARNI (2293) Republic in Flames. Chapter 9 of The Rise and Fall
of the United Alliance, the End of the Second Age and the Beginning of the
Third, vol. 3, 2262: The Missing Year. Ed: S. Barringer, G. Boshears, A. E.
Clements, D. G. Goldingay & M. G. Kerr.
* * *
He still saw her eyes all the time. They were shining in his mind, brilliant stars in the heavens of his soul. And sometimes he saw them dull and red, cold and lifeless.
I could not protect you, Lyndisty.
Marrago was old, and he was alone, but he was no longer tired. Indeed, he felt stronger than he ever had. At long last he had a purpose, a goal, a mission. And a simple, unequivocal one at that.
Free Centauri Prime.
It was the beginning of an alliance, a new alliance. A small one admittedly, only three at present, but then a night of a thousand drinks begins with a single sip. Marrago had heard a similar human phrase about miles and steps, which he preferred.
A Minbari, a human, a Centauri, and a flying castle full of Soul Hunters. Perhaps not such a small start after all.
And it would only grow.
Marrago was a tactician and he understood that not everything can be achieved at once. Sinoval understood that as well. It would take time, and in any case this was not a war of force of arms, but a war of ideas and beliefs and understanding.
But there were some similarities in both types of war. They both needed people.
Sinoval had said he would be busy elsewhere, but Marrago knew exactly what to do. He approved.
Mercenaries were easy to find these days. The entire galaxy had been at war for years, and a sudden outbreak of peace was very bad for professional soldiers. All manner of different people, of all different races and armies, were looking for work. Narns would not work for Marrago of course, and nor would many Drazi, but there were some.
It had taken a couple of months, but he had assembled a ten — strong unit, useful for hire as security, bodyguards and the like. Six of them were Centauri, with one Drazi, two Brakiri and a human. A small group, but a good beginning.
"You can…. find things, yes?" the alien was saying, twitching its forelimbs slowly. "Things that…. need finding?"
"We can do that," Marrago replied. "We need to know what it is, and a rough estimate of the risk involved, before we can set a price, of course."
"It is…. a delicate matter. A data crystal, with…. valuable information…. of a not altogether legal nature."
"I see. And what can you tell us about where it is now?"
"I had to leave Istakhr Station in rather…. awkward circumstances. An individual named Stoner took the crystal…. for safe keeping. He has…. vanished. Find him…. and the crystal, and bring the crystal to me."
Marrago nodded. "We can do that."
"And the price?"
"Will be reasonable. We can discuss that later."
"I am not a fool."
"I never believed you were, n'Grath. I hope to do business with you again."
And the price would be reasonable again, Marrago thought. n'Grath was a prominent crimelord, with influence in all sorts of places. He would be a useful ally. It was well worth losing a few ducats here for potential advantage later.
Marrago actually found he was enjoying this new life. No politicking, no dancing around, fearful of saying the wrong thing. All he had to do was complete the commissions he won, build an alliance and an armed force, and stay true to those who served with him.
He found he missed only two things: his garden, and his daughter.
His garden could be rebuilt, and as for Lyndisty…. well, she would not be returning to him, but she would be avenged before this was over.
She would be avenged.
* * *
Although there had been many rumours of the existence of the sinister Vorlon 'enforcers' known as the Inquisitors, there was no confirmed report until 2259, when Kosh Naranek sent an Inquisitor called Charles Dexter to Kazomi 7 to test the loyalty of John Sheridan and Delenn. Many authorities now believe this to have been a subtle attempt by Kosh to warn Sheridan and Delenn about the true nature of his brethren, but if this is so, the warning, like so many others, went unheeded.
The presence of Charles Dexter was not common knowledge at the time, and the existence of the Inquisitors only became public in 2262. Contrary to popular belief this did not happen on Centauri Prime, where their actions would attract much notoriety and revulsion, but on Minbar. The individual concerned was to become one of the most notorious and feared Inquisitors across the galaxy. He did not pursue the same objectives as his fellows, who were largely dedicated to tracking down those who had collaborated with the Shadows during the war. His purpose was different, and involved tracking down one single person.
The Inquisitor's name was Sebastian, and the Vorlons had given him the most difficult mission of his long career, but one they saw as of the utmost importance.
GOLDINGAY, D. G. (2293) The Unholy Inquisition. Chapter 8 of The Rise and Fall
of the United Alliance, the End of the Second Age and the Beginning of the
Third, vol. 3, 2262: The Missing Year. Ed: S. Barringer, G. Boshears, A. E.
Clements, D. G. Goldingay & M. G. Kerr.
* * *
"Where is he?"
Pain. No screams. She had long ago given up screams, of pain or otherwise.
There were no screams, but there was pain.
"Tell me where he is."
More pain. Light and fire blazed in her mind. Whispers fluttered through her hearing, brief images, feelings from long ago. The touch of his hand on hers. The warmth of his breath on her face. The sheer love in his eyes.
"I do not care how worthy or unworthy you are. I do not care on whatever pedestal you choose to place yourself. I do not care whether you believe yourself to be holy, a messiah, a prophet to bring glory to your name. I do not care what your name is. I do not care who you are. All these things will be attended to by another, in due time.
"For now, I have one mission and one mission alone. That is the only thing I do care about. I came here because you were his closest friend, the one he trusted most, the one he risked a great deal to save. Maybe he even loved you a little, if he is capable of such a thing.
"So, I ask you again.
"Where is Primarch Sinoval? Where has he gone? Where has he hidden himself? What does he plan? What allies does he have? Who are his agents?
"Where is he?"
Again the light burned. The old memories were at the back of her mind, the things that woke her in the middle of the night, trembling and shaking, unshed tears in her eyes.
Kalain was dead, had died in agony of a fatal virus almost two years ago. She had laid him to rest in her memories long ago, silently forgiving him for the tortures he had inflicted on her soul and her body.
But somewhere, at the back of her mind, he still lived, still strong and powerful and capable of hurting her so much. Still strong enough to emerge now, as she was tortured again.
"You dare to come here," Tirivail had spat at the human as he had presented himself to the Council. "You dare to insinuate these things!"
The human appeared to be formally dressed, but in a style none of them recognised. He spoke Minbari flawlessly, with an archaic, stylised accent.
"My name is Sebastian," he had said. "I am an emissary from the Vorlons. This you know. I am here on their behalf to seek any information you may have on the whereabouts of the one known as Sinoval the Accursed. I am here to question those of you who knew him best. Satai Kats, the former Satai Kozorr."
"Kozorr is dead," Tirivail had replied. Kats had said nothing. Tirivail had not adjusted well to Kozorr's death, her anger consuming her too much lately.
"Sinoval is gone," Takier had said. "He has left Minbari space and informed us that he will not return. We do not know where he has gone. He has no authority or power over any of Minbari blood now, and we have no power over him. Is that enough for you?"
"No. I am instructed to question those of you who knew him best. As former Satai Kozorr is dead, I will question Satai Kats."
"No, you will not," said Takier calmly. "She is one of us, and she is protected by the power of the Grey Council."
"I have the authority. The treaty by which you joined the Alliance confers the necessary powers on me, and on any delegated representative of the Vorlon High Command. Refuse me, and we will return in force."
"We will inform the Alliance Council of this," Takier warned.
"Feel free to do so."
"I will submit to your questioning," Kats said suddenly. "I know nothing of where Sinoval has gone, or of his plans."
"That is not enough. I must be sure."
"Then make yourself sure."
Then had followed pain. She had followed his directions and arranged a private room for the interrogation, a place he no doubt hoped would conceal the screams, but so far there had been no screams.
"Where is Sinoval the Accursed?"
"I do not know," she whispered. Her robe of mourning white was stained by her own blood. She did not remember having been cut, but the rod Sebastian wielded had inflicted enough pain without breaking the flesh.
"Where has he gone?"
"I do not know."
"We will find him, and when we do we will destroy him, and then we will destroy all those who helped to hide him."
"You cannot win," she breathed. "I cannot tell you what I do not know. All you can do is kill me, and that…. that I would welcome." Wait for me, Kozorr. I love you.
"No," he said simply. "I will not kill you. You will kill yourself. Suicide is a sin for the Minbari, is it not? A commandment from Valen himself. And you will not merely kill yourself, you will kill all the Minbari who hope that Sinoval the Accursed will come to them."
"I do not know where he is," she whispered.
"I will return," he said simply. "And when I do, I will bring you his head. Think about that. Remember that, as I plague your dreams."
"I will not dream about you," she whispered. "That is the only power you have over me…. to make me fear you. You can hurt me, but I have been hurt before. You can kill me, but that will be a release. All you can do is make me fear you…. but I do not, and I never will.
"When you find Sinoval, he will kill you."
"We will see," Sebastian said simply. "We will see." The echoes of his footsteps and the hollow tapping of his strange cane faded away into silence.
Kats lay still for a long time, her body aching, burning. She could not move, could hardly breathe. She could feel Kozorr's spirit with her, whispering always of how much he loved her, and of how aware he had been of her love for him. Tears slid down her face, mingling with the rivulets of her blood.
Finally, Tirivail arrived and carried her to a clean room, where she slept for many hours. Kozorr was in her dreams. Sebastian was not.
* * *
The first true test of the post — war Alliance was undoubtedly the difficulties with one of its founding members. Under Ambassador Vizhak, the Drazi had always been committed to the Alliance, but the burdens and expense of the war soon caused problems at home. Drazi pride and ferocity always placed them in the thick of any fighting, and as a result their losses had been horrendous. The prestige attracted by carrying the Blessed Delenn offset this a little, but a growing sense of dissatisfaction with the Alliance was spreading, bolstered by a — perhaps justified — belief that they were not being given a large enough role in the new order, and that their objections were being ignored.
An attempt had already been made to regain control of Kazomi 7, originally a Drazi world. This was ultimately averted by the presence and personal charisma of Delenn herself, but that was no more than a stop — gap solution.
The early months of 2262 saw the Drazi colonies gripped by rioting and political uproar. The anti — Alliance fervour reached fever pitch. The Drazi Government refused to pay their share of the vast sums of money required to build the Babylon 5 space station, seeing it both as a waste of money and a rejection of their world as the centre for the Alliance. The Government collapsed and a new one was eventually chosen in the traditional Drazi fashion of extreme and bloody violence. This ritual began before the usual time, which should have been in late 2263, and this was a bad omen.
Ambassador Vizhak, one of the Alliance's most loyal supporters in the Drazi Government — not that the Alliance ever saw that part of him — was recalled to a minor position, and a replacement assigned, a figure much less welcome to the Alliance than Vizhak had been….
BARRINGER, S. (2293) Shadows on the Border: The Drazi Conflict. Chapter 7 of
The Rise and Fall of the United Alliance, the End of the Second Age and
the Beginning of the Third, vol. 3, 2262: The Missing Year. Ed: S. Barringer,
G. Boshears, A. E. Clements, D. G. Goldingay & M. G. Kerr.
* * *
It is ironic, thought Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, as he sat in the Council Hall of the United Alliance, listening with greater and greater unease to the figure speaking before them all. All of us, myself included, had thought only of the end of the war. We had envisaged a thousand years of peace stretching out before us.
None of us had imagined that the thousand years of peace would require so much work.
Juphar Trikdar was still speaking, his voice commanding and powerful. He spoke all the languages of the Alliance fluently, G'Kar knew that, and currently he was addressing them in the Common Trade language. He was a magnificent orator, and G'Kar, who had done more than his share of public speaking in his time, recognised the little details, the tiny clues that confirmed that.
He also recognised the sheer contempt in the Drazi's voice, something he took no pains to hide.
The long scar across Juphar's mouth twitched and danced as he spoke, a snake crawling across his face. It was new and jagged, a pale white flickering reminder that there could never be peace, not entirely.
