"Oh, Londo," she sighed. She rested her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Londo."
"Timov," he whispered. "Oh, my Timov."
* * *
The dreams were less now, the nightmares grown rarer. It was remarkable what a solid day's work would do for you. Going to bed exhausted every night left little space for bad dreams.
That was precisely how David Corwin liked it.
A piece at a time, Yedor was transforming before his eyes — growing, becoming new, becoming alive. The fields outside the city were becoming greener, the stones and the crystals slowly starting to shine. The lake was still dirty and thick with silt. The sky was still dark and heavy. The signs of the devastation of this world were still there, but they were less now.
One day, he hoped, no one would ever be able to tell what had happened. There would be no sign remaining, no hint of the bloodshed humanity was capable of.
Corwin sat silently on the banks of Turon'val'na lenn-veni, looking out across the lake. The Minbari had accepted him now, or most of them at any rate. He was even able to speak with them, and laugh and joke. But none of them were his friends.
Except perhaps one.
He heard the soft footsteps that signalled Kats' arrival. He turned to greet the little worker. As always, she was wearing a simple robe of plain white, her only ornamentation the plain necklace that hung around her neck.
"Satai," he said, nodding his head.
"David," she replied. He had insisted she use his first name. He had no title any more, and heaven hope, he never would again.
"It must have been breathtaking," he said, gesturing across the lake.
"It was," she replied, sitting beside him. "My father brought me here when I was young. He believed all the beauties of our people were embodied in every single drop of water."
"And it now symbolises the destruction of your world."
Her hand brushed his and she looked at him sharply. "You are not to blame," she said, firmly. "We have talked about it. Your world is an airless ball of rock. Ours still lives, and you work hard every day to make it live a little more. I have forgiven you for whatever sins you think you may have committed against me, but you will have to forgive yourself, and you are doing that, a little more every day."
He nodded. "There aren't any dreams any more. At least, not many."
"That is good. Can you accept what your past has brought you? Mary, Carolyn, Susan, John Sheridan — can you think about all those names now and feel no guilt?"
"A little, but that is all. Is it so wrong, anyway, to be bound by the past?"
"Wrong?" Her hand slid from his and gently brushed her necklace. "No, it is not wrong, but we must remember the good things and learn from the bad and then…. Ah, but I am lecturing you, and poorly as well. In truth, I came here to ask you something."
"Yes?"
"I have been asked by the rest of the Grey Council to visit Babylon Five soon. They would like one of us to observe things there, at the heart of the Alliance. It is time for us to look outwards again, now that we have repaired much of the damage that was within. We will need a permanent voice in the Alliance Council, and it will be good to speak with the other races in the Alliance. We have been isolated since the war ended, bound up with repairing and undoing. it is…. not good to be too isolated.
"Would you come with me?"
"What?" He started, having been momentarily lost in the melody of her voice. "I…. I am happy here."
"I do not doubt it, but you do not belong here. I do not mean in that you are an alien, but that you are not a man destined to spend the rest of his days farming or building. You are meant for more than that."
"I've seen more than that, Satai. I've seen great things. I've been at the summit of the galaxy, and do you know what happens up there? Everyone dies. At the top all you can see is chess pieces. You move them around and you sacrifice a city here and a world there, all for the greater good, and you don't see who these people are, or what that city meant to them."
"I know. You are talking to a leader, remember. But the important thing, the vital thing, is that every leader remembers that. There can be no harm in someone like yourself standing in the?chelons of power, someone who knows what it is to be…. at the bottom."
"I don't want to go back."
"I know, and I will not force you. I am not talking about anything permanent, either. I cannot stay on Babylon Five forever. I have too many duties here. A visit, only.
"It is just that…. I have a feeling that you belong somewhere, and we are keeping you away from it. We are depriving the galaxy of the good you could do on a larger scale, by keeping you here, doing good on a small scale."
"I choose to be here."
"And yet, we do not try to persuade you to go. Think about what I am saying, that is all I can ask. My husband stood where you are now. Once he wielded power, and stood at the right hand of those in power, but he was never happier than where you are now.
"I never told him this, but I wished he had chosen differently. He was a man who could have done so much more than he did. I kept promising myself that I would talk to him later, that I would allow him a time of peace for now and return him to power later, but…. I would not have the galaxy deprived of your potential as it was deprived of his."
"Your husband must have been a great man."
She smiled slightly. "Yes. Yes, he was."
"I'll think about it. Is that all right?"
Her smile grew wider. "That is all I can ask."
* * *
"I have been…. thinking a lot…. I think you have blinded me, Da'Kal.
"You took my eye from me in a gesture of anger and fury, and yet….
"I think I see far better now than ever before.
"Thank you for that, Da'Kal."
Da'Kal shifted in the corner of the room. "Are you talking to me?" she asked. "Or yourself?"
G'Kar strained his head to look up. Everything was blurred and shifting, a melting sculpture of ice and colour. "I do not know," he whispered. "Perhaps both. Is that truly you, or merely another image from my past?"
"Our satellites have seen something approaching," she said flatly. "Our hyperspace beacons have been destroyed, but the last images they sent…. It is massive, a shadow across the stars. There is a fleet, but it is accompanying something far bigger."
"They come…. as I said they would."
"Our off-world communications have been disabled. On-world, power is starting to fail. People are growing scared. They run outside, looking up at the sky, looking for the Centauri.
"I promised myself that my people would never have to be afraid of the skies ever again. You have made me a liar, G'Kar."
"You have…. brought this upon yourself, Da'Kal. Upon all the innocents who will die. The Inquisitors cannot be reasoned with, or bargained with, or bribed."
"G'Kar, listen to me! I know about the Inquisitors. I have seen them moving on Centauri Prime, and the Drazi worlds and elsewhere. These are not the Inquisitors."
G'Kar looked at her, straining his vision. At first she was merely an outline, but then she grew clearer, more distinct, more…. alive.
"Help me, Da'Kal."
"G'Kar, you…."
"I am Narn! This is my home. These are my people. I hate what we have become, what you have made us, but I will not stand by and let us fall. Help me up, Da'Kal."
"Then you will fight them?"
"I will…." He hesitated, remembering a younger man, a man who had screamed defiance at the heavens, a man who had sworn that he would walk where he wished and live as he desired.
"I will do what must be done."
She smiled. "Now there is the man I loved. Take my hand."
He did. Her skin was very warm to his touch.
* * *
"You are the lost. You are the abandoned. You are the angry and the resentful. You think this creation owes you more than you have been granted.
"You do not know what you want, but you do know that whatever it is you want, it is not what you have now.
"You call yourself the Brotherhood Without Banners. You are a force of chaos, a union bound by self-interest and self-protection.
"The fact is, you want banners. You need banners. You need a lord to serve and you walk the path you have chosen because you do not have a worthy lord. For some of you that lord would be a real person, for others an ideal. Some of you found a lord only to lose it, slipping like dust between your fingers, a memory into the wind.
"You know who I am. You know what they call me. I shake the foundations of Heaven with my footsteps. There will be a war, a great and terrible war for the destiny of the galaxy and all who live in it. So far, you have all been unwitting pawns in this game.
"I offer you the chance of something more.
"I offer you a lord. I offer you purpose. I offer you the chance to serve me.
"I offer you a war.
"You are killers and raiders and rapists and torturers. You will find no sanctuary anywhere but amongst your own kind. The forces of Order will seek you out and destroy you, for you are everything they hate.
"Understand me. You will die if you try to fight alone. You may die if you try to fight beside me, but you will die fighting for a real cause, beneath a banner you can respect.
"I will speak with each of you in turn. Any who wish to reject me may do so. You will be permitted to leave. I will not stop you, but as I said before….
"The Alliance will find you, and they will destroy you. They will weigh you down with chains of order and they will claim all that you are. They will destroy all that you are, leaving nothing but bones and ashes and the occasional nightmare of what you once had.
"The choice is yours. You believe in freedom. You worship freedom.
"Enjoy that choice, for it is the last taste of freedom any of you will ever have."
* * *
"Who am I?"
No one seemed to recognise him, and he supposed he should not be surprised. He was not General John Sheridan, Shadowkiller, today. He was just a man, taking a holiday.
Or a sort of holiday.
"Who am I?" he asked himself again. It was a question that had been bothering him for a long time. Sinoval had simply managed to bring it into focus. Sinoval had forced him to confront it.
Sinoval. Now there was another problem that would have to be dealt with sooner rather than later. He could not be allowed to go running around the galaxy doing whatever he wanted. Sheridan had not heard much of what had happened at Centauri Prime, but what he had heard worried him. If….
No. Galaxy-shattering problems later. Personal problems today.
He leaned back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the armrest. The seat was not terribly comfortable, but then he was not expecting anything better. He supposed he might be able to sleep on the journey. He was actually looking forward to sleep without dreams.
Although he would miss Delenn's warm breath on his shoulder. Until he had slept alone in the Medlab he hadn't realised how much he missed the little things about being with her. They had been apart more often than together during their eventful relationship, but since the end of the war they had spent almost every night together. It was uncomfortable, being without her.
It was painful, being without her.
They had not made love in almost six months. They had hardly kissed properly — not as lovers, not even as people in love. Something dark and cold had come between them.
Was it just the war? Too many bad memories and bad dreams? A child dead, a world destroyed, friends scattered and broken, one compromise too many in the name of a greater good?
Or something else?
The Vorlons had used him, controlled and manipulated and propelled him in the direction they wanted. He might not have minded. They were order, after all, and the galaxy needed order. The Alliance was a noble aim and the Vorlons provided enough power and backing to hold it together until it was strong enough to manage on its own.
But if what Sinoval had said was true, they had manipulated him to leave Delenn to die on Z'ha'dum. If they had done that — and he was growing more and more sceptical of what Sinoval had told him — but if it was true, then no force on Heaven or Earth would keep them safe from his wrath.
It was ironic. He would go to war against a race of Gods, not for the freedom and sanctity of the galaxy, but to avenge a wrong against the woman he loved.
If he still loved her.
If he had ever loved her.
No, he had. Once, he had. He was sure of that. He was not sure if he had ever stopped, or when.
He sighed. At least Sinoval was fighting for what he perceived to be the greater good, even if there was more than just a hint of personal motive in there. What did that say about him personally?
"Who am I?"
There was no other passenger at his side. In fact, the shuttle was only half-full. That was just as well. He did not want anyone to recognise him, and wonder why the General in command of the Alliance fleet was going mad.
If he was going mad.
If he had ever been sane.
"Not who I want to be," he said firmly.
"Or perhaps, whoever I want to be."
He continued drumming his fingers on the armrest, waiting for the shuttle to depart for Minbar.
* * *
The Death of Worlds emerged from hyperspace, escorted by the Vorlon fleet. No one had ever seen such a planet killer before. The Vorlons had hidden a great deal from their servants.
The Vorlons reveal only what they choose to reveal. It was time for them to show the hammer of heaven, the hammer of the light.
You shall have no truck with the Shadow. Those who do shall suffer the cleansing fires. The fire of the Inquisition. The fire of the Network.
The fire of the Death of Worlds.
The Lords of Light cast a great shadow over Narn.
The existence of terrible weapons of war capable of destroying planets had long been suspected by several of the younger races. Some of the peoples with race memories or historical records of the last Great War speak of them. Markab holy tracts speak of wrath from the heavens that shattered the worlds of the sinful. The Book of G'Quan contains a passage describing a 'Dark Oracle' — obviously either a Shadow itself or, more likely, a Shadow vassal race, possibly a Drakh magus — threatening the doom of the Narn world with black spears from the sky.
There are also several asteroid fields which are believed to be planets destroyed by some catastrophe, although many of these rumours can be discounted. Long-time associate of the Blessed Delenn through his efforts in helping to supply the nascent Kazomi 7, Captain Jack, claimed to have encountered no less than four such destroyed worlds. His claims are usually treated with scepticism, but he was responsible for one of the first sightings of First One ships, early in the year 2262.?
