* * *
It was dark, but then it had always been dark, and in all the many years since he had last been here, he knew that would not have changed.
Dexter Smith, former Captain of humanity's flagship and currently wanted for first degree murder (or if he wasn't yet, then he soon would be) crept into the dark tunnel, dropping down the foot or so to the floor. There had been security fencing around the building, but it had been full of holes. The authorities had obviously been relying on the 'Danger. Unstable Building. Do Not Enter.' sign to deter people coming here. Stupid, they might as well have put up a sign saying 'Fine Place For Kids to Come and Explore'.
He didn't know if the kids did come here these days. He and his brother had, frequently, and the place hadn't even been fenced off then. There had been all sorts of theories as to what this building had actually been before it had been turned into a fun place for kids to come and explore. A house that had once belonged to a serial killer. A place cursed by some alien race who had once lived here. A halfway house for the telepath underground railroad.
Smith had later found out that the building had just been a factory which had had to close down and which no one had wanted to buy. It was funny, but that had never been one of anyone's theories when they were children.
But whatever the building was now, or had been, it was also a perfect place to hide.
Here he could think, set up some plans, and find out if Trace was actually going to pressure Bo into calling this a full-fledged murder and not self-defence. He would soon find out either way.
He banged his head on the ceiling and swore to himself. Surely the place hadn't been this small last time?
He had gone straight from Bo's to his apartment, grabbing what spare clothes and loose change he could. There were still some areas of Sector 301 where it was advisable to deal with actual currency rather than a credit chip, and plenty of people only too willing to do so. He had also made sure to grab his private citizen's PPG. He had a feeling he might be needing it.
And if there was a warrant put out on him for first degree murder, what then? There were ways out of 301, he knew. Some of them might have changed now, but it was still possible he could find a way to 303, and then head up to Main Dome. He supposed he had some friends there somewhere, people from whom he could try to get help. Maybe he could even report Allan's corruption.
He chuckled dryly to himself. A wide range of airy-fairy solutions that would never get him anywhere. The powers that be in Main Dome preferred 301 this way. It was much easier to handle.
He suddenly stopped dead. Someone else was here. The basement level was dark, but there was just enough light from the cracks in the walls to make out shapes. He didn't want to waste the energy cells in his torch until he got to the sub-basement level.
He couldn't see anyone, and he couldn't hear anything, but he somehow knew that someone was here. Could it be a kid? It was possible they still came to places like this. Was it a school-day today? He then cursed that thought. As if it would matter whether it was a school-day or not. That had never stopped him.
"Who's there?" he asked softly. More than likely it was a kid, or some vagrant sleeping rough. "I'm not going to hurt you."
There was a brief surge of pain at the back of his skull, and he trembled slightly. A telepath. That ruled out most of the alternatives, and all of the nice ones.
He had a feeling he knew who this was.
Closing his eyes — more for the symbolic reassurance it gave him than anything else — he sought the void again. He had no idea what he was actually doing, it just came to him in certain situations. A residual legacy of his mother's telepathy perhaps, although she had never been very powerful.
There! He moved forward slowly. Something brushed past his arm, and he lunged out and grabbed at whoever it was. Something rolled beneath his feet and he fell, but he brought his companion down as well.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said again. "It's you, isn't it? Dammit, speak to me!"
There was a flash of light, and he looked up to see who was with him. She was holding a torch that illuminated both their faces. He looked into her eyes, and had the slight satisfaction of being right.
"So," said Talia Stoner, or Winters, or whatever name she was using. "What are you doing here?"
* * *
Emperor Londo Mollari stirred from his private vigil of contemplation only when told by one of the many people running around on this ship that they were about to come out of hyperspace. He supposed he should have gone to his personal quarters on the Barge to prepare his luggage and his aides, but he was quite happy standing here, looking at the formless, shifting nothing that was hyperspace.
So, back to Kazomi 7. He wondered just how changed the place was from the war-torn, broken ruin he had left. He wondered just how changed Delenn was.
"Almost there," he said, partly to himself, partly to Lennier. The Minbari did not reply. He had not really been expecting him to.
"Is G'Kar there already, I wonder?" The Narn had left Centauri Prime some days before Londo. He did not have the disadvantage of having to prepare all that packing and the ceremonial guard and all the other decorative bits that came with being Head of State.
On the other hand, he did have the disadvantage of having to sneak out.
"Not yet," said Lennier in his usual quiet tone. Londo had to strain to hear most of what he was saying. "He should be there by tomorrow, assuming there are no problems at Greater Krindar."
"How do you know that?" he asked, and then muttered angrily to himself. He would either not get an answer, or he would get a reply that was so vague it told him nothing. Greater Krindar.... He knew that name. Ah yes, a prominent supply station, fairly deep in non-aligned space, and on several important borders. Most of the trade to the Alliance was being filtered through there, he seemed to recall.
"G'Kar told me his plans and his itinerary," came the reply. Londo was surprised. Actual information. He was very impressed. "He wanted someone to know, so that if anything untoward happened to him we would know where to begin back-tracking."
"Ah. Very.... efficient." He wondered if G'Kar had noticed that Lennier was no longer wearing his Ranger badge.
There was a slight jolt, and Londo started, spilling his drink on the front of his tunic. He looked up, and saw hyperspace folding slightly. Somewhere towards the front of the ship, then, a jump point would be forming.
He declined to look at this wonder of light and colour and technology, and, turning away from the observation windows, he began fumbling for a cloth to wipe the stain from his tunic.
"They will insist on my wearing white, won't they? Ceremonial and traditional. Bah! Impossible to get stains out of as well. And I am sure they will all be having multiple heart attacks at the thought of the Emperor making first contact with the United Alliance in a brivare-stained tunic! Nothing gets brivare out of silk. Not a single thing. Why couldn't it be black, or at least a deep, rich purple. I always look good in purple. I...."
He suddenly became aware of a soft gasp from wherever it was in the shadows Lennier was hiding. He looked up and saw the Minbari come into view, walking towards the window. He turned, and noticed two things.
First, that they had completed the jump to normal space. Kazomi 7 was clearly in sight.
Secondly, that there was one other ship present in orbit. Well, actually there were a great many ships, but they were little things. Drazi Sunhawks, Brakiri merchant vessels. Little shuttles.
This was bigger than that. Considerably so. It was bigger than the Imperial Barge. It was bigger than the Valerius. It was bigger than both of them put together. It would be bigger than five heavy cruisers all put together. It was bigger than....
Londo stopped that train of thought, and mentally classified the thing as 'huge'. It wasn't an entirely accurate description, but it would have to do.
It was like no ship he had ever seen before, and resembled not so much a ship as a flying castle. There were turr
ets and towers. There was something which looked like a giant gateway. There were brief pinpricks of a luminous, golden light coming from various points on the thing.
Londo had never seen anything like it, but he had heard things.
"Valen's Name," Lennier breathed.
"Let me guess," said the Emperor, feeling thoroughly awed. "That would be Cathedral, yes?"
* * *
Four, five, six....
Delenn had not been expecting luxurious accommodation, and so she was not overly disappointed. She had been expecting a room that was more of a prison cell than a hotel suite, and so she was not surprised there either. These two unpleasant non-surprises did not in any way match up to the shock of Neroon's presence here.
Did the Vorlons know that? Had they sent her here specifically because they knew Neroon was here? How could they know that? She shook her head and walked around, trying to ease her tension. She was counting, and wishing she could remember Vejar's exact words when he had given her the device.
She had gone to him before leaving Kazomi 7, and had told him what she had to do. The others — Lyta, Lethke and John — she had left messages for. They would try to stop her if they knew, but Vejar.... He knew of the greater destiny, and he had the power to create the type of device she was looking for.
He had done so within minutes, and had handed it to her. A small globe, easily concealed within her clothing. To activate it, all she had to do was whisper a small incantation, and then, on the count of one hundred, it would explode, destroying everything in this room, this building, and most of the city.
She did not know if this was what the Vorlons had had in mind when they had ordered her to come here. All she knew was that they wanted her to die. And so, if she must die, she would at least make sure her death would achieve something. Then.... her soul would ascend to the next life, and she would wait for John to join her. She prayed for that more than anything else.
She hoped he had got her message. If he had, then he would understand.
She had told him of the sacrifice she had made for him, that he was better suited to lead in these times than she was, that she hoped they would meet again in the place where no shadows fall, and ultimately that she would always love him. It had been the hardest thing she had ever had to do.
The message to Lyta had been a little easier, the one to Lethke easier still, and Sinoval.... He would understand better than any of them. He did not love her. He did not love anyone. She doubted that he could.
But he was a perfect product of this age, of this time. He would be needed. He would pursue the war, he would help to win it, and then, if he survived and there was peace, he would fall back into the shadows, to walk only in nightmares and dreams, and die alone. People such as him were designed for war, and not peace.
She looked at the globe. It was on the table before her. It seemed to be glowing.
Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four....
One hundred. And then it would be done. The casual power of the technomages appalled her, that Vejar could create this in such a short time. It was perhaps just as well that most of them had gone away to hide. She shuddered to think of anyone wielding such power.
Had Vejar done this so quickly? A sudden thought came to her. What if he had prepared this beforehand? Had he known? How could he? She remembered something, and a chill crept up her spine. She almost lost count, and hastily resumed
Vejar had been conspicuous by his absence ever since Ulkesh had arrived at Kazomi 7. He had been avoiding the Vorlon completely.
Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight....
Delenn tried to clear her mind of these worries. Whatever the technomage's plans, she could do nothing about it here. She trusted Vejar. He had every reason to want the Shadows destroyed. She had seen him blaze with anger at the sight of what their Keepers were doing to innocent people. Vejar was young and idealistic. He cared.
Seventy, seventy-one, seventy-two....
She brought her thoughts back to John. She hoped he had understood. It was a sacrifice she had made partly out of necessity, but also out of love. Her life for his. It was one she had made willingly, although with anger at having been forced into it.
Still, they had been together for one night. She clung to the memory of his touch, his kisses, his love. His wonder at being able to touch her again, to kiss her again.
She had looked down at him sleeping, and committed that image to her memory. They had never had a formal Minbari courtship. They had gone through one of the rituals, but no more. They had never truly had the sleep-watching, although they had watched each other sleep, he watching her often.
Eighty-eight, eighty-nine, ninety....
"It will not be long, my love," she whispered. "I will wait for you. If the universe wills it.... we will meet again."
Ninety-one, ninety-two, ninety-three....
"I love you."
Ninety-four, ninety-five, ninety-six....
"Remember me."
Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine....
"Forgive me."
A single tear trickled down her cheek as she said the last number aloud.
"One hundred."
Nothing.
She looked up, startled, wondering if her count had been wrong. One hundred, that was what Vejar had said. She remembered that clearly.
One hundred.
Still nothing.
She looked at the globe. It was still glowing. She reached out to touch it, puzzled and confused, and just before she did so it split open, revealing a small image she recognised as Vejar.
Delenn, the image said formally. I hope you will forgive me my little deception, although I will understand if you do not. This never was the type of device you asked me for, although that was easily within my power to create. Alas, I fear such a death is not your destiny.... and we could not allow such a grievous defeat to come to those who dwell at Z'ha'dum. That would.... upset the balance.
If by some chance you endure this ordeal and return to Kazomi Seven, then I will understand if you wish to exact some revenge upon me for my.... for what you could perceive as my treachery. I would not blame you. I will say only that this path was forced upon me by my superiors. Lord Elric appeared before me mere minutes before you arrived with your request.
Many months ago, when you first came to us seeking our aid, my lord Elric warned you that a time would soon come when you would have to make a choice. A difficult and hard choice. I know what that choice is to be, and I do not envy you it. However, unlike my lord Elric, I have every confidence that you will choose wisely and well. I chose to remain behind in your world, Delenn, because I wished to see the one upon whom so much turned. I have been proud to know you, O Blessed Delenn, and I hope to call you friend.
Choose well, Delenn. I fear that if you do, I will never see you again, and if you do not choose well.... then I will pray never to see you again, for such a world will not be one in which I wish to live. We serve neither Vorlon nor Shadow, I and my brethren. We know both for what they are, and we recognise the need for balance.
Goodbye, Blessed Delenn. Peace be with you.
The image faded, and before her eyes the globe turned into a pile of dust.
Her heart beating hard, Delenn rose to her feet. She had understood so little of that, but she did know that the technomages would not let her inflict this injury upon the Shadows.
She went to the door, almost running. Pulling at it, she knew that it was locked.
Trapped. Trapped here, without the hope of an easy death. Trapped here.... to be made host to one of their Keepers, to be turned against her friends, to be....
She reeled across the room and fell onto the bed. It was hard and uncomfortable, and sleep was a very long time coming.
Chapter 2
Her delirium, if that was what it was, had passed, and Delenn, recently anointed the Blessed, awoke from her slumber with a clear head. She did not know how much time had passed. It was all.... difficult to ju
dge here.
Looking around, she noticed that a bowl of water and some cloths had been placed on the table. She rose awkwardly, and stretched. Then she remembered the globe. Vejar's globe. A pile of dust on the table.
Hard to believe it had once been her hope for the future.
She closed her eyes in silent despair. They had her now. What they would do to her, she did not know. She was not sure if she truly cared. Vejar had spoken of some sort of future for her, which was why she could not die. A choice.
Another friend betrayed, if Vejar could still be called that. He had betrayed her, although on orders from another, and.... there had been no malice in his voice. No dark intentions.... just shepherding her towards a destiny.
Angrily she shoved the bowl from the table, and water splashed across the floor. She was not a puppet or a toy, to be pushed this way and that! The Vorlons, and now the technomages, they all seemed to want something from her. But what?
It was times like this she wished she were Sinoval. To be always so sure.... He had denied his destiny and dared to forge his own path. She wished she possessed the ruthlessness for something like that, but she did not feel she could have walked as alone as he did. She had friends, people she cared for dearly.... and that thought had sheltered her greatly. She had John....
She had Lyta. Delenn closed her eyes and tried to reach out to her friend. A.... a sort of bond existed between them. A legacy from their both having been host to Kosh. She had used that bond once before to get word to John, to call for his aid. Could it work now?
She concentrated long and hard, but eventually she gave up. She could feel nothing. She was not a telepath, after all. Perhaps Lyta was just too far away. Perhaps Z'ha'dum was blocked from such signals.
Perhaps the Vorlons did not want Lyta to receive any such message.
That thought struck Delenn with a chill to her spine. The Vorlons had sent her here after all. Sent her here to die. They would not want her friends coming to her rescue, would they?
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