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| Volume 4: A Future, Born in Pain | Part VII: That Which Man Hath Brought Together.... |
"SO this is what victory feels like. All these years and yet.... what has our struggle brought us?"
"There is a saying among some peoples. Everyone gains exactly what they deserve. It would appear you have gained the victory which you most deserved."
"For all our sakes, I hope not."
* * * * * * *
She sleeps, her mind filled with dreams, and memories....
.... of what it was like to be dead.
There are times awake when she still feels tentatively for the burn marks left by the shot that killed her. They are not there, but that does not stop her looking. She remembers it clearly, tears in her eyes, a soft determination, and the final words in her mind, the words she could not give voice to.
John, I love you.
Then came a moment of pain, and she was dead.
It was not what she had expected. She was a priestess. She had grown up learning about the passage of souls, the continual cycle of birth and rebirth, of which death was only a part. She had dreamed of a place where no shadows fall, a place where she could be at peace, away from struggle and war and loss, where she could wait for her love to come to her.
Instead, there had been nothing. An empty blackness stretching out before her in all directions. She had never in all her life felt so alone.
She had been there for so long, crying out for someone, for anyone. There had been nothing. Then, just when fear was all she knew and all it seemed she had ever known, he had come to her. Lorien, the eldest of the elder races, the first of the first ones. He had smiled, and she had returned to the world of flesh.
She still dreamed about being dead. Sometimes she awoke to darkness and felt she was still dead, that all her life since that moment had been a dream. There were times in the night when all she could hear was her own heart beating, an echo of an echo of a mockery of her life.
She knew what she had to do now. She had rested enough. She was well now. She had said her final goodbyes. She had visited the grave of Mr. Welles and rested there in silent meditation for several hours, hoping he had at last found peace. She had gone to Dexter Smith and spoken of his dreams for Sector 301. She had visited the shrine that had arisen at the place of her death and tried to impart something to the people who expected her to solve all their problems for them. She had communicated with the Alliance Council, preparing herself for her return to them.
There was just one person she needed to talk to.
She reached out across the bed, and her eyes stung with tears. Of course. He was not there. He had not been there since that first night she had returned from the hospital. He had loved her then. He loved her still, but their responsibilities hung over them both. There was a sadness in him as well, a dark hollow behind his eyes, as if he had sacrificed everything to survive, and now could never bring any of it back.
Delenn of Mir sighed, and as she had for the past so many nights, she fell asleep alone.
* * * * * * *
"I will.... be going then."
There was an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the cries of mourning that echoed in Delenn's mind. Sorrowful thoughts, dark and anguished.... And some of them were directed at the man in front of her.
"That's.... probably for the best," he said finally, and she could hear the pain in his words. It was true. It was for the best. Politically, militarily, personally....
John had to remain here, on Proxima. The world was set to fly apart, torn between recent tensions, the deaths of President Clark and Mr. Welles, the constant threat of Shadow reprisal, the surge in anti-alien prejudice.... they needed someone here, someone special. Not just a symbol, a leader.
That had to be John. He was the only choice. He was the leader of the Alliance war fleet after all, and also the most obvious sign of human involvement in the alliance of races. No one else would do. Corwin was a soldier, not a leader - although one day he would be - Welles was dead, Dexter represented only his own province and his own people.... It had to be John.
"You'll be.... safer there," John continued, the words sounding painful and forced. "We're still catching some of the extremists, some of Clark's men.... people who blame you. There's also the possibility of a counterattack, of course."
All true, but none of these were the real reasons she needed to go to Kazomi 7 rather than remain here. The real reasons she couldn't give voice to.... not to him.
She didn't want to be near him. She didn't want to have to hold in her regret and guilty thoughts whenever she was around him. She didn't want to have to concentrate so hard not to say the words that would destroy him.
I killed our son.
She had tried telling herself a thousand times that was not true, and on some level she knew it. On that level she knew that others were to blame. If the Vorlons hadn't made her that fatal offer. If John hadn't been so badly hurt.... But if she hadn't accepted their proposals....
If, if, if.... so many ifs.... none of which resolved the main issue that their son was dead, and they both had to grieve for him, but neither of them had time. If she stayed here, sooner or later they would grieve, and then both of them would be destroyed.
"Then.... I will be leaving soon," she whispered.
He looked unhappy, not surprisingly. He also looked tired. He had told her what had happened to him, the dealings with the Alliance, the strangeness of the Dark Star ships, the argument with Sinoval. He had kept some things quiet, she knew, but she had not pressed him on them. Compared to what he had told her, any secrets he still kept would be inconsequential.
Our son is dead.
No! Reach out to him! Tell him you love him!
In truth she was unhappy here on Proxima, and she couldn't wait to leave. She was a leader and a leader of leaders. She wanted to make everything better, to heal the galaxy and everyone in it, to create a universe where everything would be so much simpler.
But here.... here nothing was simple. There were countless divisions between peoples who should be allies, divisions wrought from fear and hatred and mistrust. It fell to precious few people to try to undo those divisions, to end the war between the Narn and the Centauri, to unite humanity with the other races, to end the threat the Shadows posed....
It would be difficult. It would all be so difficult. She wanted to be a healer again, but she could not heal until everyone was ready to be healed. Someone had to bring everything together so that the galaxy could be healed. And if not her, then who?
Tell him you love him!
The voice would not be quiet, and she wanted to listen to it. She really did.... but she couldn't.
Our son is dead!
Delenn bowed her head, and turned. She began to walk away.
Tell him. You must.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she walked away.
Tell him!
She left the room. She did not look back.
* * * * * * *
Power was a nebulous thing, a concept many people spoke of, but few truly understood. The controlling, the mastery, the capturing of power.... It was said that the person who fully understood these things would have no need actually to carry out any of them.
The man who called himself Vejar was one of the few who did understand them. He knew that sometimes the greatest exercise of power comes not by using it, but by sitting back and merely watching.
He had not always understood that. Indeed, one of the reasons he had chosen to remain behind when the rest of his order had fled to their long-ordained place of sanctuary had been because he wanted to use his power to help. Not just to help his order, but to help any who needed it.
That had been over two years ago, and now he understood a little better than he had then.
He did possess power. Physical power. The capability to kill, to destroy, to tear down whole cities. If he but wanted to, he could destroy most of Kazomi 7 in less than a day. It was all a simple matter of making the right incantations, the rights glyphs and words, and it would be done.
But the best power is the sort that is never used. The strongest sword is the one never removed from the scabbard. Sometimes there are no masks....
And sometimes it is worth staking the lives of all who live on the decision of one person.
Vejar was human, although racial differences mattered little within his order. Sometimes he even forgot that he was human, but not today. Today was the day he knew at last that the right decision had been made.
Delenn of Mir had gone to Z'ha'dum, and there, as had been foreseen, she had made the decision that could change the future of the galaxy. She had been offered the chance to travel anywhere she liked. Home, to safety, to the arms of the one who loved her.
But she chose the path of pain and repentance and redemption. She gave up, however unknowingly, the unborn life growing within her, and in doing so, equally unknowingly, she had given birth to something greater.
An ideal had arisen within humanity. The witnesses to her sacrifice, to her nobility, to her remorse. It had begun with just two, two men who both had every reason to hate her, and it had spread. At the time she had died, her work was only just beginning.
Humanity had been saved. It was entirely possible that Delenn would never realise what she had done. It was also entirely possible that had she been given the chance to change her mind over that fateful decision, she would have done nothing differently.
The order was pleased. Master Elric was pleased, as was the One Above All. Neither would explain their reasons of course, their own hopes for humanity, but that hardly mattered. The order was pleased.
Save one member of it.
Vejar raised his hand and traced a pattern in the air. A silver mirror appeared from nowhere, and within it was an image of Delenn. Dignity and strength shone in her every movement, but Vejar could see the pain within. She was walking away from something.... no, from someone.
Vejar frowned. She was returning home, to Kazomi 7. There he would have to face her, and acknowledge his betrayal of her. How could he explain it to her? How could he explain the necessity of what she had done, of what she had lost?
How?
* * * * * * *
Home.
That was a strange concept for Delenn, especially when applied to anywhere other than Minbar. She had grown up on Minbar, played in its streets, worshipped in its temples, climbed its mountains and drunk from its crystal lakes. She had never thought her home would be anywhere other than Minbar.
But that was Minbar as it had been, not as it now was. Sinoval and the humans and the Drakh had destroyed all that, turning her world into a poisoned, barren rock, turning her people into paranoid, twisted reflections of what they should be. She remembered saying goodbye to Minbar, knowing she would never return.
But as she looked out at the planet below her, she realised that in many ways she had a new home now. Kazomi 7 was not Minbar, and it never could be Minbar. In many ways it was an ugly planet, colonised by the Drazi and used for decades as a merchant waystation for a variety of illegal purposes.
Until something changed. Like Minbar, the Drakh had come and devastated the world, but unlike Minbar, Kazomi 7 had survived. Its people had survived. Hope had survived and now.... now the world was her home.
There was a procession waiting for her, naturally. News of her return had been circulating for weeks. Lethke would have arranged it all, she was sure. He was waiting for her just outside the spaceport, as soldiers tried to hold back the swelling crowd here to greet her. She looked at them all, and marvelled at how many races there were. Narn, Brakiri, Drazi, Minbari, Vree, Llort, Abbai, a few humans. No Centauri that she could see, but almost every other race was represented.
She took a deep breath and stepped out of the ship to greet them.
The roar almost knocked her backwards with its volume. She steadied herself and walked calmly across to where Lethke waited, a unit of guards around him. Lethke smiled broadly as he extended his hand to her, and she took it.
"Welcome home, Delenn," he said simply.
"Thank you," she replied. "It feels good to be home."
The journey to the Neuadd was naturally designed to be as long and as visible as possible. Much as Delenn disliked the manipulation of the people, she had to admit it did serve a purpose. She had been gone for so long, and without her as a figurehead, the Council would have had trouble holding the planet together. Now that she had returned, everyone had to know she was alive, that she was back.
People strained against the cordon of soldiers. Hands reached out to her. Voices cried out her name. She absorbed it all, uncomfortable, but also welcoming it. It was nice to know she was making a difference.
She turned suddenly at the sound of a commotion. Someone had managed to break through the cordon and was moving towards her. The Drazi soldiers had caught him and were forcing him down, raining blows on his body.
"Stop," she said firmly, with more authority than most military commanders could muster. The guards hesitated, and she stepped down from the procession to approach the prone figure. It was a Brakiri. He was clearly old, and his face bore numerous scars and old wounds. Around his arm he wore an black armband, a sign of mourning indicating he had survived the grim days of the Drakh occupation.
She bent down and helped him to his feet. His eyes widened as he saw her. "It is you," he whispered, his tone reverential. "They said you were dead."
"I was," she said. The shouts and cheering had stopped. Everyone was looking at her. "I was dead," she said again, louder. Then she smiled slightly. "I got better."
There were more cheers. People shouted her name, but she did not hear any of it. She only heard the Brakiri's voice, rasping and harsh as he tried to speak through floods of tears. "I knew it," he said. "Thank you. Oh, thank you."
"What for?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.
He looked surprised. "Everything, of course.
"Everything."
* * * * * * *
With all the delays it was hardly surprising that it took her far longer to reach the Neuadd than she might have expected. There were numerous other attempts to break through the cordon to approach her, and she had to deliver a quick speech on the steps of the building before she went inside, Lethke following attentively.
"It is good to have you back, Delenn," the Brakiri said, smiling. "I cannot tell you just how good."
"And it is good to be back. I have missed you, Lethke. You.... and everyone here. How are things? I heard so little on Proxima."
He paused, and looked around. "They are.... not as you remember. A lot has happened since you.... disappeared. That was a long time ago, and much has changed. The war, of course, but...." He shook his head. "Problems with the Narns, and the Centauri.... and the Drazi as well."
"I had heard the Centauri had allied with the Shadows," she said slowly. "It was a lie, wasn't it, Lethke?"
"I wish I could say it was, but.... There was footage. It was truthful, not a forgery. We had it checked. A great deal, and every test showed it was not a fake. Centauri ships were fighting alongside the Shadows, against the Narns."
"I do not believe it of Londo. I do not."
"Nor I. It is possible the Shadows arranged this, but.... I do not want to believe it, but there is little choice. We have not been in communication with anyone from the Centauri Republic for months. The Narn representatives here are pressuring us to aid them in their war with the Centauri. They were never so zealous before, and they still provide little help in the wider war. And the Drazi...."
"How is the Council?"
"Fractured, Delenn. You were always the one who united us, whether you realised it or not. Without you.... Anyway, you will see now. G'Kar has done what he can, but his official status is.... unclear, and some are using that against him. The Narns have an Ambassador, but he is largely powerless. Come, we are wasting too much time here. The Council waits to see you. They are probably growing impatient."
Delenn smiled. "We cannot have that. Unless Taan has learned to control his temper since the last time...."
"I doubt it," Lethke deadpanned. "But we will not have to worry about that, as he is not here. He is with the fleet. Vizhak is here, and he.... Ah, you will see. I hope you can do better with them all than I can."
"I will do my best. I can promise you that."
"I have never asked for anything more from you, Delenn. And I never will."
* * * * * * *
The room was silent as she entered, and she stopped, an uncomfortable feeling creeping over her. Everyone was looking at her, and then, all as one, they rose to their feet.
Delenn smiled at each one as she walked past, recognising the familiar, welcoming faces, but feeling uneasy at the number of those she did not know.
G'Kar moved forward and embraced her warmly. She held him back, enjoying his presence. Ta'Lon was just behind him, his one-eyed face impassive. "I know," G'Kar whispered. "Sinoval told me."
Her face displayed no shock, but inwards, her mind was turning. She had sent four messages out before she had left for Z'ha'dum, messages to friends, companions, and a lover. John and Lyta she knew had never received theirs, and it was doubtful that Lethke had either. For the sake of the Alliance, for peace, for everything, none of them had to know her true motives for going to Z'ha'dum.
But Sinoval did know, and she was unsure if that was a blessing or a curse.
"We will talk later," she replied, stepping back. Then she smiled. "I missed you, G'Kar."
Another Narn was next. G'Kael. Delenn had known him for a while, and although he rarely spoke in the Council meetings she had attended, she was very aware that something was shining in his mind. She was reminded of a phrase she had once heard. A mind like a diamond. Brilliant, but cold.
G'Kael bowed, but said nothing. His assistant Na'Toth did likewise.
Her eyes passed over the empty spaces where the Centauri should have sat. Londo should be here. His Ambassadors should be here. He had done as much for the Alliance as anyone.
Vejar's chair was also empty, although that was not uncommon. Delenn was not thinking of him. Not now. There would be time for a conversation later. There were many things to be said.
Lethke had taken his seat by now, and Delenn turned to see a human bow formally to her, a trace of fear in his eyes. For a moment she did not recognise him, but then memory returned. Major Krantz, who had served Bester long ago. Bester had betrayed them all, and now he had disappeared. He was hiding somewhere in the shadows, waiting. No doubt he would return, and it seemed prudent to have someone who knew him as an ally when he did. Krantz had been too eager to change sides, claiming to have known little about Bester's plans. His lies fooled no one, but his presence was useful.
Disgusted at herself for thinking like a politician, Delenn greeted some delegates who had not been present before. Kalika, of the Abbai, with whom she had been in discussions before her departure. A Gaim representative nodded at her. A Llort was also present, his people finally having chosen sides.
And then there was Vizhak. The Drazi looked at her for a moment with piercing eyes, a terrible suspicion there.... bordering.... not quite on hatred, but a on strange emotion she could not identify. Vizhak nodded and then sat down.
Puzzled, Delenn took her seat, and caught a glimpse of something from the corner of her eye. It seemed strange in this room, incongruous. Something drew her to that sight, and she could not explain why.
It was shards of crystal. A data crystal. A crystal that must have been hurled against the wall with great force.
Shaking her head, Delenn turned back to the Council. There was a lot to be done.
* * * * * * *
Delenn felt drained by the time the meeting ended. The long hours of talk and argument and dissension had only reminded her of how much time had passed and how much had changed. It also depressed her greatly. Was everything they had built really so fragile? Did everything truly depend on her life? She had believed it would endure without her, that honourable men like Lethke and Vizhak and G'Kar could hold together the Alliance without her as a figurehead.
It had not been as she had imagined. There were deep rifts within the Alliance. Vizhak in particular was changed. He had said little. Delenn gathered he had been surly for the past several months. There was a conflict within him, one Delenn had finally recognised halfway into the meeting, the conflict of a man struggling between his conscience and his people.
G'Kael had delivered a message from his Government, demanding the Alliance dispatch even more Dark Stars to aid the Narns in their war with the Centauri. He made the request without shame or embarrassment or indeed any emotion at all.
Lethke pointed out that that would leave Kazomi 7 all but undefended. Even now there were no Dark Stars around the planet.
Nothing had been decided. Delenn could only think of Londo, could only think of sending more ships to help attack the people he loved so much.
There had been arguments and debate and discussion and nothing of anything had been resolved. She was only just beginning to understand what her departure had wrought.
She had chosen to go to her death knowingly, but only now did she realise the ramifications of what she had done.
This is a time for warriors, not healers.
Sinoval's words. He was right, but in a sense he was also wrong. This time needed both warriors and healers.
These thoughts weighed heavily on her mind as she walked down the stairs and through the corridors of the building. There had been several vacant seats in the Council Chamber, but the one her eyes had most turned to had belonged to Vejar.
There were many words to be had with the technomage.
She reached the door to his chambers, the rooms in the very basement of the building, where few others visited. The council building had been largely rebuilt over the old administrative buildings which had been all but destroyed during the Drakh occupation, but some parts of the old Kazomi 7 remained. Vejar's quarters were one of them.
As she reached the door a symbol appeared on it, glowing bright gold. A face appeared through the symbol, a nightmarish creation drawn from myths and nightmares. Delenn, who had seen more in real nightmares than any fake ones, simply stared it down, and it faded. The door swung open.
"Come in," said Vejar's polite tones from inside. "I've been expecting you."
Without any trepidation she crossed the boundary, and everything became dark. Hesitating, her heart thumping in her chest, she nevertheless moved forward. She could see nothing, but there was little here to be afraid of. Not any more.
A light appeared around her, and she discovered Vejar sitting before her. There was an empty chair opposite him. She sat down and looked at him. He appeared unchanged, still looking as young and fresh-faced as when they had first met. On the inside, however, she knew he was a very different man.
"Who are the effects for?" she asked softly.
He smiled, sadly. "A little art. A little power. We have existed always through trickery and deception and illusion. I suppose, in my last days, I could not entirely divest myself of all that we are." He paused, and looked directly at her. She could see into his eyes, and she knew that for all the power, all the wisdom, all the knowledge there, he was alone. So very alone.
"Yes," he said. "So you have met him. I wondered.... when I heard from Proxima about what had happened. The First One. The Eldest. We speak of him in hushed voices, wondering always if he was real, or not, if he still lived. He is real, then."
"Yes," she said simply.
"Ah. Well, that is good to know. One mystery solved. Many more still unanswered. Such is the way of all life, I believe. I suppose you wish to have me killed."
"No."
"Ah. I betrayed you, Delenn. You came to me in a gesture of trust. You needed my help for a great purpose, for a great sacrifice, and I betrayed you. I would not blame you for hating me, for wishing me dead."
"I do not hate you, Vejar. I do not wish you dead. I made the choice you spoke of. It was hard, it was painful, and the cost of it will remain with me always. Sometimes.... I still dream...." Dream, of a heartbeat that was not hers, but a part of her. Dream, of the cold black vastness of death. "But dreams are all lies. I live, and what was done....
"I do not hate you, Vejar."
He sighed, and genuine relief showed on his face. "I see.... Thank you, Delenn. You have learned a lot since last we met. More than I ever have. I owe you a great debt, Delenn."
"I could show you. The things I have seen, Vejar, they all come from one simple understanding. Vejar, I have seen the power you wield. We both know what you can do. Help us. The war is almost over. Help us finish it all. Help us to build a better world, a finer world."
He shook his head. "I cannot do that."
"You said you owed me a debt. This would erase that, would erase all debts."
"That was unfair! Delenn, please, listen to me. Who are you fighting for? Who are you? What do you want? Can you answer those questions? I know who you are fighting for, and I will never fight for them. What will your peace bring you, Delenn? What will be the result of your war?"
"The war will bring us peace. And peace will bring us joy."
"You do not see, Delenn. Oh, I am sure you believe that, but you are blind. All of you are. You fight this war, and you will win. The Shadow will be gone, but another will be cast over you, one greater and more powerful than the last, all the more so because it will look like the light. You will win, Delenn, and doom yourselves in doing so."
"The Vorlons are not the Shadows. They are not our enemies."
"They sent you to die, Delenn."
"They had their reasons."
"Yes, they did. They are not your friends. They are a greater threat by far than the Shadows could ever be."
"Then help us! Help us defeat the Shadows! Help us create a better world without the Vorlons! You have power, great power. So use it!"
He shook his head. "You do not understand."
She rose and turned. There was nothing more to say. She was angry, and the sound of her own heart beating pounded loudly in her ears, an echo of another heart, one much weaker, just behind it. "It is strange," she said finally, as she left. "The Vorlons say the same thing. I think we all understand much more than either of you gives us credit for."
Vejar said nothing. The beating hearts almost deafened her as she left.
* * * * * * *
Delenn knew what G'Kar was going to say. She had listened to him in the months since her return, listened to his pain and his grief. She had seen the battles between the Narn and the Centauri. She had felt G'Kar's anguish over watching his people fight to the death against his oldest friend.
And it was all the worse because the war was being fought in his name. A jihad. A holy war.
She thought of the Blessed Delenn and a dark cloud passed over her.
There was no other option. G'Kar had to go to Narn, had to go to the Kha'Ri himself. He had to tell them.... to tell them.... to show them that there was another way, that the war must end now.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked softly, looking at him across the table. He would be, she knew that, but she had to ask.
"Yes," he told her. He paused, deep in thought, and she nodded. The war had to be finished. The Shadows had to be defeated, yes, but not at this cost. This was only performing their task for them.
"I have waited too long," he continued, "afraid to confront my own errors. But now there is no time for fear, and no more time to wait." Delenn knew there was something G'Kar could not say, something he wished very much to keep to himself, something G'Kael and Na'Toth were also hiding. She did not pry.
"The war will soon be over," he whispered. "But what will the peace bring?"
"It will bring what we make of it, surely," Delenn said, hoping she could believe her own words.
"So there will still be no rest." G'Kar shook his head and rose from his chair. "I have missed you, Delenn, those long months you were gone." It seemed for an instant as if he was going to say more, but then he stopped himself and paused, beginning again a moment later.
"I am glad you have returned to us, Delenn. I wish we had more time together."
"As do I, but we will see each other again, G'Kar."
"Will we? I wish I had your faith. Sometimes I think.... a dark cloud is putting out the lights all across the galaxy. There are very few left shining now."
"The war will soon be over."
"That was not what I was referring to." She shivered.
* * * * * * *
It was of necessity a meeting that had to be held in private. It was not that either of them did not trust the other, but that both were very much aware of the shadows that lurked everywhere, darkest and most terrifying where it seemed to be lightest.
Vizhak and Taan Churok had never been close. On opposing factions during the last transitional period, a mutual animosity had arisen between them. Vizhak was a career politician, a man willing to work for the good of his people, to represent the Drazi abroad and to profit them all from his actions. Taan Churok was a bartender, a man interested only in his own concerns, but who had been forced by fate to take a more active hand.
However, as the Drazi representatives on the Alliance Council they had been forced to work together, and a tentative alliance had arisen, although it had taken far longer for these members of the same race to learn to trust each other than it had those of radically different peoples.
"When did you return?" Vizhak asked. It was he who had been invited here, and the unfamiliarity of it irritated him. He was no stranger to intrigue, but his experiences had largely been of the legitimate world. It had been something of a revelation to learn that criminals could evade and conceal just as much as politicians.
"Returned yesterday," replied Taan. "Came in secret. Not want others to know. Not yet. Time not right."
"How is homeworld?"
"Wounded. Streib attack bad. Very bad. We live still, but many dead. Too many dead."
"No help from Dark Stars?"
"None. Dark Star fleet too busy to aid us. We were here from start, but no aid for us. And more. Orders from Sheridan. More ships are needed. More soldiers to go and die somewhere else. More deaths while homeworld suffers."
"Delenn is back now. Talk to her. She understands."
"Not Delenn that is problem. Sheridan. Vorlons. Everywhere we look, Vorlons are."
"Still, talk to Delenn. She will help."
"No! You think she will help us, when her lover will not? She wants war over. She grieves for dead, yes, but they are still dead. And behind her, are Vorlons, yes."
"Then what do we do? Cannot leave the Alliance."
"Some at home say just that. But no, not yet. We need watch, and learn. And wait. Watch for Vorlons. There are.... ways, things that can be done. Talk to technomage. Vorlons be just as bad as Shadows. If Alliance is to hold, if Drazi are to survive, then Vorlons need to be defeated."
"We cannot war with Vorlons."
"No. Another can. We find Sinoval. He will help."
The shadows twitched around them. Neither noticed.
* * * * * * *
A million sparks of light flitted from world to world. Somewhere, in a place beyond any mortal comprehension, decisions were made, conclusions reached, consensus achieved.
Wait until the war is over. Then the Drazi will learn what it means to challenge us.
Wait.
Such was the way of the Vorlons.
* * * * * * *
Time passed. On Proxima 3, General Edward Ryan was murdered. In his secret hideout, Sonovar set himself on the road that would destroy him, as he schemed with Forell. On Centauri Prime, Lord Kiro waited, and plotted, and fed his monstrous son.
And for a few days there was motion - frantic, terrible motion. Ryan's murderer was found. Sonovar attacked the shipyards at Greater Krindar and was defeated. Morden arrived on Centauri Prime.
And a black cloud left a hidden world that the Shadows had claimed millennia ago, a black cloud aiming for Kazomi 7.
* * * * * * *
The old man sat down on his chair and looked at his companions. The Round Table had been hastily assembled. Some were absent of course, but there were enough here.
In a simple, matter-of-fact voice, he explained that the murderer of General Ryan had been located and interrogated. He was merely a tainted agent, primed for this one mission, his objective to cause chaos and distract from the main concern. He was to be handed over to Proxima Security in such a way as to not draw undue attention to where he had come from.
One of the Knights sat forward. In a clipped tone, he asked what other matter was this agent distracting everyone from.
The old man's reply was simple. The utter destruction of Kazomi 7.
More than one Knight inquired what action was to be taken.
The old man replied with one word. None.
When pressed for clarification, he obliged. Orders had been sent from the Vorlons. No action was to be taken. Kazomi 7 was to face this threat alone. And if it was destroyed, so be it. No help was to be given. No one was to be told.
But there was one thing the old man did not tell them, one thing they did not need to know.
The interrogation of the Shadow agent had been done through the network. Once Mr. Byron had pulled the information from the man's mind, it would be free in the network, floating around, transmitted between countless nodes, as indeed it had been to the Vorlon High Command.
Somewhere in that vast network, the information could be accessed by one with the sensitivity to do so.
But surely no one existed. No one attuned enough to the nodes to access them without the Vorlons' permission.
No, there was no such person. There was nothing to worry about.
* * * * * * *
Kazomi 7.
That was it. Corwin did not know how he knew, but that was it. The information just leapt into his mind. The attack on Greater Krindar was all a distraction aimed at keeping them away from Kazomi 7.
"You know this, don't you?" he asked. Several of his bridge crew started, but he was not talking to them. There was no answer, none that he wanted to hear. "Carolyn. You know about this, don't you."
From nowhere, from the edges of his mind, came a reply, a soft whisper from the horizon. Yes.
"What is it? What are they going to do?"
Must not.... say....
"Carolyn, please! We need to know. I won't let you be hurt."
Destroy it.
"Destroy what?"
Kazomi Seven.
The General had once told Corwin that what marked out a great leader from a good one was that a great leader could react within a split second. There was no time for arguments, no time for debate, no time for thought. Time only for action.
"Get me through to Daro and Kulomani," he snapped quickly. "Muster every ship from the area. Get a signal to Proxima, Kazomi Seven, everywhere. Recall all Starfuries."
"What is it, Captain?"
"We're going to Kazomi Seven. And quickly."
* * * * * * *
Vejar looked up and smiled humourlessly. "I have been expecting you, brother," he said softly.
"Of course you have," said another voice, one that left no echoes, carried no breath. A voice that came from light years away. "Why else the spirit circle, the prepared drink?"
Vejar shrugged. "A premonition, no more. I do not believe the others are happy that you are involving yourself."
"Oh, I plan on involving myself in much more than just this, brother. I will not be hidden in the shadows forever."
"I doubt there are any shadows big enough for you to hide in."
"You always did have a way with words."
Vejar sighed. "Why have you come here, brother? I have been here ever since you all left for your sanctuary, and you have not deigned to visit me before."
"Things are changing, and quickly. The war is almost over. I will argue that we may be able to return once the Lords of Chaos have departed from this galaxy. I will of course be denied that request, but I will at least try."
"The peace will not bring any greater safety for us than the war did. Less, even."
"I know, but we will at least be able to act. An alliance is forming, a secret alliance, a secret commonwealth of races and peoples and factions. It is just beginning, tiny strands across the stars, little threads between one person and another. They do not know each other yet, but it is there. Their leader has already been named, has already chosen the destiny. Through them, we can act."
"I know. I have sensed something similar. Some have come to me, requesting my aid. Delenn, the Drazi.... others. I cannot offer it to them, to any of them. That is not our way."
"Then it should be. I will make it our way."
"What your propose.... it is dangerous, brother."
"Of course it is. What is the point otherwise, hmm?"
"I see. I think you should go now. Something is going to happen here. The air has been thick with warnings all day."
"You are on a former Drazi world, brother. The air is always thick. How you tolerate it I do not know."
"I am serious. I pray we do not see each other again."
"I think we will."
"As do I. Go with grace, and power be your servant, not your master. I think we will talk again, brother.... Galen."
"Oh, we will. Be sure of that."
* * * * * * *
Delenn knew it would be a difficult meeting before she even set foot in the chamber. There was something about the whole affair. She had heard reports that Vizhak had been on Kazomi 7 for weeks. She had been unable to contact him on the Drazi homeworld. Taan Churok had been unusually secretive. She had even heard he had gone to see Vejar, and returned in a foul mood. She had also gone to speak with Vejar, and had been turned away by the strange apparitions on his door. She had thought she could hear conversation beyond.
Besides, there had been something in the air. It had felt.... dark and thick and heavy.
Something was going to happen, she knew it. She tried to reach out to Lorien, but there was nothing there. She also tried to touch Lyta, for a brief glimpse of friendship, but again there had been nothing. The two had shared no more than a few words since Delenn's return from the dead. She did not even know exactly where Lyta was.
And then there was this sudden calling of a meeting of the Council. The whole Council. Vizhak had issued the summons. He was not even supposed to be on the planet.
She entered the Council chamber to find it filled with a ponderous silence. She looked at the people before her, and all of them could sense it. Something was wrong.
They were all here. Lethke, G'Kael, Taan, Major Krantz, representatives from the fleets. Vejar's seat was not surprisingly empty and there was no sign of Ulkesh, but beyond that only one person was missing. Her eyes passed over Vizhak's empty place. She had a strange feeling it would not be empty for long.
As she took her seat at the head of the table, she glanced at the corner of the room. The data crystal shards she had noticed before were gone. Evidently someone had come and cleaned the area.
"What is the intent of this meeting?" she asked. The silence was shattered, and the grim tableau of seated figures broke. Lethke leaned forward, G'Kael leaned back, and Taan Churok was the first to speak.
"Message from homeworld," he said. "From Government. Vizhak will bring it."
"He has returned, then?" G'Kael enquired. "At least he sees fit to let us know he has returned. A little lesson, my friend. Drazi do not sneak around very well. One day, that unfortunate problem will get you all in trouble."
"Drazi not sneak at all. Not know of which you speak, Narn, but be silent."
G'Kael nodded, and then sat back again.
"Taan, what is the nature of this message?" Delenn asked. "Is it so serious as to require the whole Council?" She was feeling very uncomfortable about this.
"Vizhak will say."
That instant, Vizhak entered. There was something about his arrival, a dark wind that brought grim tidings with it. One look at him, and Delenn knew this was bad.
He went to his seat, but did not sit down. He cast cursory glances around the table, and then began to speak. "Have consulted with Government on homeworld. Have talked to military. Have talked to priesthood. Have received orders from Government today.
"Kazomi Seven is to be returned to Drazi people. Is to be Drazi world once more. Not Alliance world, not Narn world or Brakiri world or Minbari world or human world. Is to be Drazi world."
"What?" Lethke breathed, at the same time as G'Kael's protest and Krantz's spluttering.
It was Delenn, however, who commanded their attention as she stood. "Vizhak.... your Government made Kazomi Seven the centre of the Alliance. We were grateful to them. It was a great gesture, and one none of us has forgotten. We have worked with your Government in every way possible. Why do they take this step?"
"Yes, Alliance grateful. You grateful. You, I trust, Delenn. You, Government trusts, people trust. But Alliance none of us trust."
"You dare...!" began G'Kael.
"Our ships die. Our people die. We fight this war for you, for all of you. Shadows beaten now. Defeated. War can be over. But no, still is war. Still Drazi die. Drazi homeworld attacked by Streib. Drazi homeworld unprotected because all Drazi ships and soldiers here.... fighting your war! More Drazi die defending it. No Alliance ships come to help. Drazi die alone.
"If Alliance not help Drazi, then Drazi not help Alliance!"
"Vizhak," Delenn said softly. "I did not know of the attack on your homeworld. I would have sent help if I had known. If I had been here."
"Believe you, Delenn. But you cannot do everything. You cannot be everywhere. And you not in charge of military. Your lover denied us aid. Your lover sends our soldiers to their deaths. Your lover sends armies to fight elsewhere."
Delenn recoiled as if physically struck. John. Had he become so truly obsessed with this war he did not see what he was fighting for? She had to talk to him, had to make him see.
She had to tell him she loved him.
"Some in Government believe there can be peace with Shadows. Some believe we were too quick to reject last time. Shadows are broken now. Done. No threat to Drazi now. There can be peace. There cannot be peace while Drazi with Alliance. So, Drazi want not to be in Alliance. Drazi want Kazomi Seven back."
"And you, Vizhak," Delenn said calmly. "What do you want?"
"I want.... I serve my people. I serve my Government. They want peace with Shadow. I want no more Drazi dead in others' wars. I want no more sons dead."
"Your son?" Delenn whispered, her face ashen. "Vizhak.... I did not know."
"Of course, you not know. Delenn, not you we distrust. Not you. Your lover. Vorlons. Dark Stars. War is over. There can be peace."
"There can be no peace with the Shadow," G'Kael said calmly. "We learned that last time. You remember what they did with the prisoners they returned. You want peace with such as they?"
"I want it over."
"We all want it over," Delenn said. "And soon, it will be. All of it. No more wars, no more deaths. No more.... dead sons." She hesitated, trembling. "It will be over, but G'Kael is right. There can be no peace with the Shadow."
"Government wants peace."
"And there will be. I promise you. I will speak to your Government, if you wish. And if you wish to leave the Alliance and take back Kazomi Seven, you may. You have given more than most to the Alliance, Vizhak. You and all your people. I can see why you might want it all over with.... but soon it will be. Soon, we will all be safe. Just a little longer. That is all we ask."
"Talk to them, Delenn. I believe you. They believe you. There is one you wish to talk to. One who can give us what we want. Talk to your lover. Make him see us as people, not as toys."
"I will," she said firmly. "Trust me, Vizhak. I will."
There was a silence, Delenn and Vizhak both looking at each other across the table, neither moving. No one dared breathe.
Not until a message was brought in, an urgent warning for the entire planet from Captain David Corwin.
Soon after that, there came the Vorlon.
* * * * * * *
Things moved quickly after Corwin's warning reached the Council. Arguments were forgotten in the face of this new threat. Ships were mobilised, defence systems prepared. Help was pulled in from nearby worlds. G'Kael sent a request to Narn for urgent aid. Delenn likewise to Proxima. Both doubted that help would arrive in time.
Vejar sat alone in his darkened room and reached out to the skies. He could feel it coming. A Fist of Darkness, so some races called it. A creation of flesh and technology and evil. A weapon designed for the sole purpose of destroying entire planets.
And he realised something else also. Whatever the Shadows could do, so could the Vorlons.
Ulkesh arrived in the Council chamber as preparations were being made. Delenn stood up, her skin crawling as she looked at him. This was the being who had sent her to Z'ha'dum, sent her to die, who had toyed with her love for John for his own purposes.
But he was also the representative of an ancient and powerful civilisation, a race that could help save this planet.
<No. There will be no help.>
"What?" Delenn whispered, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. Always before, the voice of a Vorlon had been musical in her mind, a whisper of symphony and melody and rhapsody, a rise and fall of beauty. Now Ulkesh's voice was that of the grave, the dank and dreary rustling of bones, the dreaming of dead men.
<There will be no help. Leave this world. Its purpose is done.>
Delenn did not need to look at her companions to see the stunned horror on their faces. She also did not need to look to feel the rising fury in Vizhak and G'Kael and Taan Churok, even the normally calm Lethke.
But she spoke first.
"How dare you?" she cried. "How dare you? This is our home now. The cradle of all our hopes and dreams. We crafted something here, something that will live on long after all of us have gone. We created an alliance from death and torture and pain, and we made something better.
"And you expect us just to leave!"
<The Alliance will endure. This world has served its purpose. Let it die.>
"No," Delenn said firmly. "I will fight to save it, as will we all here. If you will not help us, then leave. You will not be welcome here any longer! None of you will!"
Ulkesh looked at them all, the darkness within his eye stalk seeming so much more intense, so much deeper. There was a slow surge of wind chimes, clattering against one another, echoing far distant screams,
<It is not necessary for you to die,> he said, after a time.
"You don't understand us at all," Delenn said. "You do not understand. Now, stay and help. Or go, and do not return!"
Ulkesh lowered his eye stalk and turned. Delenn did not see him leave. She turned back to the others.
"Well said," said G'Kael, approvingly.
"We have no time to worry about the Vorlons. We have to defend Kazomi Seven. There will be time for worries later...."
* * * * * * *
"Come on," Corwin said. "Come on, come on."
"A message from Proxima, Captain."
Corwin drew in a deep breath. He had been expecting this. "Put it through."
Unsurprisingly, it was from the General. Corwin had rarely seen Sheridan look so angry. "Captain Corwin," he said. "You are abandoning your post. Return to Greater Krindar immed...."
"Sorry, General. Kazomi Seven is under attack from a Shadow planet killer. They need every ship they can get to help them."
"We received a message as well. That is beside the point. Return to your position."
"Oh for the love of.... Listen to yourself! Kazomi Seven is under threat. The whole world is going to be blown up...."
"You don't know that, Captain."
"Yes, I do! The whole planet is going to be destroyed unless we help them. All of us. Put these damned Dark Stars of ours to a real fight for once. Besides.... Delenn is there."
"That's.... not the...."
"No, it isn't. But I remember when you would have done anything to save her, and never mind what was right. We went all the way to Z'ha'dum to get her back, didn't we? What's a quick trip to Kazomi Seven?"
"Captain...."
"No, General. We're going. Court martial me when we get back. If Kazomi Seven is still there, and Delenn's still alive, it'll be worth it.
"Of course, you could come along and help us yourself."
"Captain.... David, I...."
"Think about it. Think about the person you want to be. If you like I could find you and hit you again. Agamemnon out."
Corwin let out the deep breath. "Come on, come on," he whispered.
* * * * * * *
The races in service to the Shadows called it a 'Fist of Darkness'. To the fleets of Kazomi 7 it was a death cloud, a vast thing that shimmered into view in the skies above their home, the centre of the United Alliance, a place where Valen had once stood and taught, a place that was home to the Blessed Delenn, a place where lived the only technomage in the worlds of the younger races.
Delenn stood on the bridge of the Drazi warship that had been given the honour of carrying her, and looked at it silently. Many had said she should not be here, but she had remained firm. There was too little time to launch a full evacuation of the planet, and she would not leave while others stayed.
Shadow ships swarmed around it, their cries piercing in the night. The cloud blocked out the stars, leaving an empty void in space.
One of the Drazi said something, and another chuckled, an unusual sound to come from a Drazi.
Delenn mentally translated it.
"At least we are fighting in the shade."
The fleet swept forward.
* * * * * * *
G'Kael had learned patience, he had learned endurance, and he had learned composure. He had learned many things, from many teachers. The two most important teachers had been Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar and the Centauri.
Sometimes their lessons were hard to remember.
"How long can it take?" he cried. "We cannot rely on communications staying open much longer."
Na'Toth let out a wry chuckle. "There is nothing that takes as long as waiting for a politician to reach a decision."
G'Kael muttered something angrily, and then tried to re-establish his composure. Na'Toth should know. She had been a member of the Kha'Ri until recently. "We don't have time," he snapped again.
"You did not have to stay here," Na'Toth pointed out. "You could have left."
"No, I couldn't. There's.... something about this world. It's special somehow. I'm not going to run and hide while it gets destroyed. I've done too much running and hiding. Besides.... I want to spit on that Vorlon's encounter suit and prove to it that we were right." He paused, and then looked at her. "Why did you stay?"
"Did I have anywhere else to go?
He shrugged. "Well said." The communications screen lit up, and he turned to it. The picture was crackling. "About time," he said. "We need military aid out here, and quick. As much as we can spare." There was no reply. "Can you hear me? We need...."
".... can't.... sound.... blocking.... Kha'Ri in.... closed session.... cannot talk to.... can you hear...?"
"No!" he shouted. "Listen to me. Send help now!"
".... must.... repeat.... signal...."
The screen went blank.
"Too late," G'Kael sighed. He looked up, through the stone that made this building, past roof and clouds and sky, into the heavens. He imagined all the stars there. He imagined them all going out as a cloud swept over the planet. "I think we're on our own now."
"No," Na'Toth said. "We always were."
* * * * * * *
Darkness washed over Delenn, a great and terrible darkness, as the cloud engulfed her ship.
The Stra'Kath had tried to fight it, but there was little to fight. The Shadow ships that had shimmered into the heavens with the black cloud had merely taken up position by the jump gate, preventing any flight. The Alliance ships had surged at the cloud, only to be torn apart by missiles that burst from inside it. The vast spears tore ships apart, destroying them utterly.
And then the cloud had engulfed the Stra'Kath, and there was only darkness.
And cold. It was so very cold.
"Can we get through to the other ships?" she asked, knowing the answer before she even asked the question.
"No. All communications are down."
"What can we sense?"
"Nothing."
"We will not die here," she whispered. Lyta, can you hear me? We need help. Kazomi Seven needs help.
There was nothing.
John, Lorien. Sinoval. Anyone. We cannot fight this thing. Without the Dark Stars we don't stand a chance. It can destroy us in a heartbeat.
She stopped, the sound of a beating heart echoing in her ears. This thing could destroy them all. It was a weapon capable of destroying whole planets. There were no Dark Stars to oppose it.
Why were they still alive?
Delenn was trying to ponder this when a curtain fell across her mind, and she slumped senseless to the floor.
* * * * * * *
Vejar closed his eyes and reached out to the darkness amidst the stars. He could feel it, the malevolent sentience that burned within the Fist of Darkness. The Shadows were every bit as adept as the Vorlons at using organic technology, at corrupting sentient life for their own ends.
And speaking of corruption of sentient life....
Something was coming this way. Souls screaming in prisons of light. With them came the residue of pain and terror and wrongness.
Dark Stars. Aptly named. There were few stars in any galaxy darker than they were.
He paused, and probed a little further. Something was strange. One of them was.... different. The bonds were looser. The bonds had been intentionally loosened. The telepath had more freedom. Not enough, but more. She even had a name. She even had someone to talk to.
Strange. Very strange. Galen would be able to exploit that. Galen would involve himself in this, and do what he could to save Kazomi 7. Galen would generally make a point of interfering.
"Damn you, Galen," Vejar whispered. "Look at what you've done to me."
He reached out, and made contact.
* * * * * * *
There was darkness. She was alone, standing in nothing, with ever nothing and only nothing.
"Welcome," said a familiar voice, and she started. Lyta walked out of the darkness to meet her. The voice was Lyta's, but something.... was wrong.
"Who are you?" Delenn asked, forgetting herself for a moment.
"I'd have thought you would have learned how dangerous that question was by now," Lyta said jovially. "I'm no one. I'm.... an idea. A concept. I represent one thought amidst many.
"I'm certainly not Lyta Alexander.
"Nor am I Arthur Welles." The voice changed, as did Lyta, and suddenly Mr. Welles was there. He was sitting down, leaning back, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers steepled up before his face.
"Nor am I Marcus Cole." Again the voice changed, and this time Marcus was before her. There was a terrible wound in his chest, ribs caved in, blood staining the front of his tunic. He did not seem to notice the messy and bloody pulp that was his heart.
"No, I'm.... an idea." The voice changed again, and Delenn straightened. She was looking at herself. An exact, flawless, mirror image of herself.
"What do you want?" she asked of herself. That was a question she was not afraid of. That was a question she knew the answer to.
"Ah," the identical Delenn smiled at her, a smile that she would never display, half-mocking and filled with the implication that she knew something no one else did. "That's better. I want to talk to you. To be precise, I want to warn you. Some of us have sent a message to someone else, but he hasn't received it yet.... and that wasn't really the message we wanted sent, if you understand me."
"What do you mean?"
"What, does that surprise you?" Sinoval stood before her, his dark eyes staring directly into hers, his terrible, twisted pike raised in his hands. She did not take a single step back. In contrast to the real Sinoval, there was nothing to fear here. "That there might be factions amongst us? Why should there not be? The Minbari are factionalised, the humans, the Narns, don't even ask about the Centauri. Even the Vorlons were divided on some issues. We are chaos personified.... you honestly thought we all had the same goal, the same ambition, the same purpose?"
"You sought to destroy us all. Do your motives really matter?"
"Touché." President Clark smiled. "But yes, they do. And we never sought to destroy you all. That would not suit our purpose."
"What is your purpose then? There was a reason for this, I am sure. Tell me! Teach me! Maybe this can all still be avoided. Maybe there can be something good from all this."
"No." Lorien's face bore an expression of infinite sadness. "It's too late for that. Too late by far. We are old. Very old. I remember my first footsteps in the heavens. I looked at all those stars, shining in the black sky, and I remember crying out in pleasure until tears poured down my face."
Vizhak paused. "Not actual tears, you understand. We cannot cry."
"All races can cry," Delenn said softly. "In one form or another."
"A beautiful concept," said G'Kar, smiling. "And true, to an extent. Anyway, I saw the stars, and I remember thinking of all the millions of lives that lay out there, across the galaxy, and even beyond the rim. All those lives, all those races we could nurture and help. We could strengthen them, test them, pull them up to their destinies. Few races are as long-lived as we are, and every year we waited, countless billions died.... died before seeing the heavens. Did we really have time to wait?"
"No," Londo said. "There was no time for patience. The strong would see the stars, and in their quest to touch them, the weak would rise alongside. Once something has been done by one man, it becomes so very much easier, doesn't it?"
Sonovar snarled. "But for some of us, there was only revenge. We had been defeated so many times before. Always defeated by the Vorlons, by Valen.... There was nothing left for us. The younger races had rejected us so many times.... why should they benefit from our teachings? Why should we help them to the stars? Burn them all! Let the strong fight for every inch of the journey!"
Neroon looked down, his face full of sorrow. "Isn't that always the way, Delenn? Hatred wins out over love always. Some of us did love you. Loved all of you. We only wanted to show you the stars."
"Then stop this!" she cried. "The war can end now! We can all work together. All of us! You can still show us the stars."
"No," whispered a voice, and she stumbled back. It was John. He looked at her, and his eyes shone with the love she remembered seeing there before. His voice trembled. "It's too late for all that. There are few of us left now. The hatred has ruled us all, and all we can see is our revenge. We have lost, we know that, and this will be the final defeat. There is nothing left, there are no more chances after this.
"We have lost, and so we will leave behind a galaxy of ash and ruin to make it wish we had won."
"It needn't be this way," she whispered.
"What else is there?" John asked. "I only wanted to let you know.... to remember us. We have done so much evil, but some of us have done good as well. Please.... if you can remember us at all.... remember the good and the bad."
"I will never forget you," she said, unsure to whom she was talking. The Shadow.... or the memory of the John she had once loved?
"Oh, one last thing." John was gone, but the voice came from everywhere. "The others of us have sent another message.... one based on revenge. We have left behind a weapon to strike down our greatest enemies. A terrible weapon. The message has not been received yet. If it is.... make sure he knows what you now know as well. We have poisoned the past and the present. Do not let us destroy the future as well."
"Who was this message to?" Delenn whispered, a sinking feeling in her heart.
"I think you know that," came the last faint echoes before the voice was gone, and the light returned.
* * * * * * *
They bent over her body, looking for some sign of life, but there was nothing.
"She is dead," one of them whispered.
"Yes," another agreed. "But she has been dead before. She will die and live and die and live.... until all is done, until Droshalla welcomes her home."
Delenn's eyes flickered, and opened. "Help is coming," she whispered.
At that moment, jump points opened and blazing sparks of light screamed into view.
* * * * * * *
Corwin took in everything in an instant. He could see the dark cloud that had consumed so many of the Alliance ships. He could see it moving slowly, inexorably towards the planet itself. He could see Shadow warships at the jump gate, and he could see them moving forward to meet these gatecrashers, those who had dared to arrive without an invitation.
Corwin saw all these things with eyes that were not his, sensed them all with senses that were not his.
"Carolyn, are you there?"
I am here. Someone is trying to reach us, to talk to us.
"Who?"
Power. He is power.
"Can you help us? Can the rest of you help us?"
We will fight. What else are we here for? But.... will the fighting ever be over?
"I hope so. Believe me, I hope so."
David Corwin.
The voice came from nowhere, from everywhere. It subsumed Carolyn's voice and spoke with a power and authority Corwin had rarely heard before.
"Who are you?" he asked. None of his crew reacted to him talking to no one. Peculiar events were commonplace on this ship.
A friend. Not a friend of yours, but just a friend in general. I can help you destroy that thing.
"Whoever you are, help me do that and you can be my friend for life. What do we do?"
Enter it. A warning. This will not be easy.
"Nothing worthwhile ever is."
* * * * * * *
Why am I still here?
Ambassador Lethke zum Bartrando looked up at the skies. He could see the cloud falling over the planet, a dark cloud that blotted out the suns.
Why am I still here?
He could have fled. Hasty evacuations had been organised. Some of the Ambassadors had chosen to leave, but none of those who had been here from the start. Vizhak and Taan Churok had gone to their ships. G'Kael had done likewise. Delenn was with the fleet.
Lethke was on the surface, waiting for the end.
Why am I still here?
The answer was simple.
Because I believe.
He continued to wait.
* * * * * * *
Delenn jumped to her feet. She could feel the Dark Stars coming. She could feel the intelligence within the cloud sense this, and reach out. She could feel the hatred, the dark and terrible rejection of all that the younger races were.
We tried to show you the stars, and you rejected us. We tried to give you heaven, and you cast us down. Then, if you will not see heaven, we will show you hell.
"It doesn't have to be this way!" she screamed. There was no answer.
* * * * * * *
It was cold, and dark, and he was alone.
No, he was not alone. Carolyn was with him. In some strange way he could not explain, so was Lyta.
And this strange man, who spoke to him from nowhere. He was here as well.
"Trust me, all of you," Corwin told his crew as the Agamemnon swept into the heart of the cloud. "I know what I'm doing. I hope."
Outside the cloud, Daro and Kulomani were fighting off the Shadow warships, adopting defensive positions, buying time.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Corwin said.
Of course I do. The Fist of Darkness is alive. There is intelligence. There is power and there is hatred. As with any living thing, find the brain and destroy it. Then the cloud will die.
"Fine, so where's the brain?"
There.
Corwin looked, and moved forward. Something burst through the darkness, a spear of rock and poison and anger. It barely missed the Agamemnon, so close, but silent in space.
"Carolyn, can you hear me?"
Pain, pain. It hurts!
"Carolyn, we need your help. All of us do."
Hurts!
"Carolyn, billions of people drown in blood if we fail. We will not fail. We need your help."
What.... what must I do?
"Protect us. Take us forward, and keep us safe. We'll do the rest."
"Captain!" cried a voice, and Corwin turned. He did not need to hear the tech's warning to realise that another spear had been launched. This one would not miss.
"Carolyn!" Corwin cried.
A shield of light rose up around the ship, and the spear struck it directly. The whole ship rocked, and Corwin stumbled. They had been hit, but they were still alive.
"Carolyn," he whispered.
I'm still here. Do what you must.
Corwin smiled. "Take us forward."
* * * * * * *
Vejar hummed as the smoke moved around him. He could feel it, feel the cloud rushing around him, feel the presence within it, feel the light and the pain that was Carolyn Sanderson, and a million like her.
"There you are," he whispered, seeing with eyes that were not his own. "I can feel you. I am not afraid."
He prepared an incantation.
* * * * * * *
Corwin leapt back as a glowing symbol appeared in the air before his eyes. "What the...."
Have no fear, Captain. Just a little something to protect you all, and to help defeat the Fist of Darkness. You will be able to strike it now.
"About time. All batteries.... fire!"
* * * * * * *
"Please," Delenn said. "Where are you? There's still time. It doesn't have to be this way!"
No, there is nothing else.
"Stop this! There can be peace."
No peace. No forgiveness. We will die, and that will be all.
There was a burst of light, a light that struck everyone in the ship. Delenn felt it burning her eyes, burning into the back of her mind. She fell, again.
* * * * * * *
Vejar smiled, and then he frowned. "Damn you, Galen," he whispered. "We will both pay for this in time."
* * * * * * *
There was the faint echo of a scream, one that touched them all. Delenn found tears in her eyes.
The Fist of Darkness died.
* * * * * * *
Before, there had been only revenge and hatred. Now, there was only the knowledge that they did what they must do. The Shadows knew their triumph, their unholy Fist of Darkness, had been destroyed, and there was nothing left for them but death.
The warships moved forward, not caring when jump points opened up behind them, and the Dark Stars swept forward.
The Shadows went to their deaths.
* * * * * * *
We tried to show you heaven. Now you will all see hell.
* * * * * * *
General John Sheridan said nothing as he watched the Shadows' last stand. They went to their deaths knowingly, charging forward, not even caring to try to escape.
Soon. It will all be over soon.
And what then?
The future.
He did not know if that thought was his own, or another's.
* * * * * * *
Vejar sat back, his mind returning to his body. "I have seen heaven," he whispered. "And I have known hell. I doubt there is anything left for you to show us."
* * * * * * *
Delenn's eyes brightened as realisation came to her of who had just arrived.
* * * * * * *
David Corwin smiled. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered. "See that, Carolyn! Maybe we're getting somewhere after all."
* * * * * * *
Delenn was alone, staring at the stars. "I remember," she whispered, "when I first realised I could reach out and touch them. My father carried me on his shoulders and pointed up into the night sky. They seemed so close. Then I looked down into the lake, and they shimmered there. I felt I could just reach out and touch them, scoop them up in my hands."
She sighed. "So this is what victory feels like. All these years and yet.... what has our struggle brought us?"
An echo of an echo, a whisper of a dead man's torment, reached her ears. "There is a saying among some peoples. Everyone gains exactly what they deserve. It would appear you have gained the victory which you most deserved."
She shivered, and held herself tight against the cold. "For all our sakes, I hope not.
"I hope not."
* * * * * * *
So what now?
Soon. It is almost over now. There is just one more thing to be done. One more battle to be fought.
To Z'ha'dum.