The Primarch sighed softly, and then bowed. "Very well. I am ready. Do you have a plan, or are we just going to storm the Vorlon homeworld?"
"No.... I think that can wait. After all, we will need something to do tomorrow. And I do have a plan. Listen...."
The Primarch did, but his mind was on something else entirely.
* * *
His injuries still plagued him. Never a day passed when they did not. He was a warrior. His whole life was bound up with his fitness, his strength, his endurance. He had been brought up to the warriors' code. When a warrior could not stand, it was time for him to die.
Kozorr could still stand, even if his stance was twisted to compensate for his shattered leg. The break in the bones had never healed properly, nor had the damage to his spine.
He could also wield a weapon, although not with the skill he once had. His hand was torn and mutilated. He was unable to flex his fingers, to grip and relax, to touch or to grasp. He had forged a denn'bok he could use with only his one good hand. In the year and more since he had been injured, he had learned to adjust his entire fighting style to compensate.
He was a capable warrior now. Before, he had been so much better. Precious few had been able to match him. Kalain had been better, as their brief fight had proved so painfully. Sonovar, probably. Deeron, almost certainly. Sech Durhan, without a doubt.
Sinoval, of course.
But now.... he would never be as skilled with the pike as he had been, but he was still a warrior. He could still fight, and he would continue to do so while there was breath in his body.
He was a warrior. War was all he knew.
His opponent's pike parried his swift, thrusting blows, knocking them aside. He had to thrust more than was possible with a normal-sized pike, but his was now quicker and easier to handle than his old one. His opponent had to adjust her fighting style as well. So many of the techniques she knew were only for opponents wielding full-sized blades.
She lashed out with a sweeping blow aimed at his ribs. He caught it with his blade and turned the blow aside, down and away. A gentle push, and she was slightly off balance. Spiralling on his good leg, he spun into her side, thumping his elbow into her armpit. His weight forced her off balance, and she fell.
His weak leg gave way beneath him however, and he fell also. He maintained his grip on his pike and managed to keep it away from her as he fell, so that he did not accidentally injure her with it.
He could hear her sharp release of breath as he landed on top of her, and see her dark eyes widen with shock and pain. A moment later however, they were dancing.
"There's no need to throw yourself at me," she said. She was smiling.
"My apologies, my la.... My apologies, Tirivail," he said. He had been about to call her 'my lady'. He had only ever called one woman that, and she was not here.
"No need to apologise," she said, still smiling. "Unless you really want to, of course. Where did I go wrong?"
"You overextended your swing," came a soft voice from the side. Tirivail's smile faded, and she muttered something unpleasant under her breath. Kozorr allowed himself the luxury of a smile as he rolled away from her and forced himself awkwardly to his feet. His weak leg was paining him. He ignored it.
Rastenn stepped forward. "You left yourself too open to a swift thrust, or indeed a manouevre such as that performed by the Shai Alyt."
Kozorr grimaced when he heard that title. He had not used it since he had come to Sonovar, but some of the others here insisted on giving him it. He had of course been awarded the title by Kalain, so he supposed some of them here might still acknowledge it.
Tirivail jumped to her feet with such grace that Kozorr winced. He had been able to move like that, once.
"I'd like to see you take him on, Rastenn," she said sardonically. "You'd be surprised how different it is fighting against someone with.... ah.... such a small weapon." Kozorr smiled.
He and Tirivail had been training almost every day since his return from Cathedral and his failed mission to destroy the Well of Souls. She seemed to enjoy his company, and he did.... find some pleasure in hers. She had a ready wit, a determined dedication both to serve her people and learn from him, and she was.... not unattractive. She had made it clear to him more than once that she might wish to take matters a little further.
But she was not Kats, she was not the one he loved and dreamed of. It had been to help Kats that he had sustained his injuries in the first place, and he would gladly have done the same again, even knowing the price. He wanted nothing more than to tell Kats how he felt, what he wished more than anything else....
But he could not. Not yet. Not until he had proven himself better than Sinoval. Not until he had proven himself more worthy of her love than the Primarch.
"Shai Alyt Kozorr is a better blademaster than I could ever be," Rastenn said with a graceful bow. "With a normal-sized pike, or otherwise. We are fortunate he is willing to teach us what he knows."
"I was trained by Neroon and Branmer," Kozorr said, looking at the two of them. They had been two of the first to join Sonovar in his rebellion against Sinoval. They were the people Sonovar trusted most, apart from Tirivail's father Takier, and the loathsome, mutilated little priestling Forell. He could well see why Rastenn and Tirivail were so trusted. They were loyal, strong and brave. Neither Rastenn's youth and inexperience nor the treachery of Tirivail's sister Lanniel had altered that. Rastenn's youth belied a strong desire for glory and victory, almost as strong as that within Sonovar himself, and Tirivail had proved herself countless times over.
"And after them, by Sinoval the Traitor," added Rastenn. "A fine pedigree."
"Sinoval was not always so.... misguided," sighed Kozorr. "He believed in the good of our people, once."
"And now he has lost his way, corrupted by Shagh Toth and workers. A shame, to be sure."
"Yes," said Kozorr softly. He was thinking of workers again, or one worker in particular.
"Come on," said Tirivail, stepping forward and raising her pike again. "One more try. I won't be beaten so easily this time."
"We shall see," said Rastenn pessimistically.
Kozorr dared to smile, and raised his pike. "In the Name of the Betrayer," he said, formally. "So do we serve."
"So do we serve," added Tirivail.
They moved forward to spar once more.
* * *
Another fun-filled day of work in the Pit.
Zack Allan, the ever-busy and ever-popular Chief of Security for Sector 301, Proxima, returned to his apartment in the same mood he usually did: complete boredom with a side serving of depression and a dash of self-pity.
It had been an ordinary, run-of-the-mill sort of day. No murders (although not from lack of trying), a couple of assaults, assorted robberies, a number of drunk and disorderly, and further reports on the non-apprehension of Sector 301's most wanted.
So, after a productive day spent talking to Trace, watching the game and making a heady effort at demolishing his new supply of chocolate, Zack headed home, ready for a night of his usual. Pizza from the place around the corner, a couple of cans of something vaguely alcoholic and whatever drivel was on the vids.
Join the Security Forces. Serve your people. That's what the ads had said.
Yeah, right. This was just what he had had in mind when he joined up, serving his people. Running the biggest dirt pile anywhere this side of the Rim, taking money from big businessmen to turn a blind eye to whatever they were doing to his people, and generally trying to forget what a scummy life he had.
Well, it could be worse. He was alive, pretty well off as far as money went, he had a decent apartment, a couple of good friends.
His apartment had one of the best security systems available anywhere in Sector 301. Of course, that meant that anywhere else on Proxima it was the sort of thing you'd use to guard a dog kennel. It also meant that anyone with an iota of skill at electronic lock-breaking could get in and out easily. Not that he had anyth
ing worth stealing.
As he ambled through to his lounge, tossing the pizza box onto the nearby table, he didn't bother activating the lights. He only sighed softly and plonked himself down on the sofa. "All right," he said in a tired voice. "Who's there?"
"Lights," said a soft, female voice.
The lights came on, and he saw two people standing across the room from him at either side of the door. One, the man, was pointing a gun directly at him. The woman had no visible weapon, but then she didn't need one.
"Oh, look," he said. "Don't I recognise you two from somewhere? Oh, yes, you were on Crimewatch last night, weren't you?" He reached for the pizza.
"Drop it," said the man.
Zack sighed. "Pepperoni, anchovies and olives," he said, flipping the lid open. "Hardly a deadly weapon." He paused. "Well, not yet. You could wait until I've eaten it, and then let me breathe on you. Vid on, sports channel. You don't mind, do you? Only I missed the end of the game today. Someone went and got beaten up, and I had to go out and deal with it."
"Poor you," observed the woman.
"Yeah, what I can say? It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it. So," he said, taking a bite of the pizza and leaning back. "You do realise that breaking and entering with intent to threaten, or with intent to commit grievous bodily harm, carries a prison sentence under the.... oh, under some law somewhere. Of course, when we have a murderer here, I guess that's not too much to worry about. Hey, look at that, the Archers lost. That's good to hear."
"It was self defence," said the man.
Zack shrugged. "I'm not gonna say I agree with you, just in case you've got some sort of recording device there. You say it was self defence, witnesses say it was an unprovoked attack."
"Witnesses intimidated by Trace."
"Hey, Trace is a good man."
"You don't believe that."
"I don't believe much of anything." He took another bite of the pizza. "Do you want any? This is pretty good. They must be back to using real olives."
"What's Trace's deal with IPX?" asked the woman suddenly.
"I have no idea. I didn't know he had anything to do with them. And yeah, I know you're a telepath. There's probably something I could bring you in on, if I really put my mind to it."
"Tell us what we want to know, and we'll leave you alone."
"Oh, gee.... you mean you won't kill me? Here's a question, Mr. Big War Hero. Do you think I care? Take a look around. This is my life. This is it! Someone dumped me right here because I didn't fit in his beloved ship. This is all my life at the moment, and it's probably all my life's ever gonna be. Do you think this is what I had in mind as a kid? Do you think this is what I wanted?
"So go on, shoot me. No one's gonna care. And it ain't like another murder's gonna do too much to you. They can only mind-wipe you once."
"What do you know about Compass Deliveries?" asked the woman.
"Never heard of them."
"I didn't want you on the Babylon because I had doubts about your fitness to do your job, Allan. Looking at this, can you tell me I was wrong?" Zack looked at the man. "I mean.... for God's sake, look at yourself. I never thought you'd fall this far. You're abusing these people here, and you know it."
"Yeah? Quick lesson for you, Mr. Silver Star Man. No one cares! If anyone here's getting the short end of the stick.... well, hey! Tough! They shouldn't be here in the first place. You think there's gonna be anyone coming to pay respects to my name on the plaque when I'm dead? Hah! Yeah, right. Go ahead and shoot me. I'm not telling you anything, and I don't know anything anyway.
"And I'm certainly not gonna see the error of my ways and become a righteous social crusader for the poor, downtrodden masses.
"Well?"
The man turned to look at the woman. Neither of them said anything.
Zack's attention was suddenly drawn away by the voice from the viewscreen.
We interrupt the sports news with a very special announcement. President Clark formally announced today the apprehension and capture of the notorious war criminal and mass murderer Satai Delenn of the Minbari Grey Council, leader of the United Alliance of Kazomi Seven.
A further statement is expected to be forthcoming later tonight, but it is widely believed she will be put on trial as soon as possible.
We will return to this story as soon as there are any further developments. We repeat....
Zack sat back, smiling broadly. "Well, I'll be damned," he said.
* * *
The dream was the same. It was always the same. Every time.
The sky rained fire. She crawled out of her hiding place high in the mountains to look up, and saw the heavens begin to pour with flame. She could hear screams, and hasty prayers to Valen. She had not been sure there was anything to pray for.
And after the flames there had come the sickness. She saw them again every night in her dreams. Skin flaking away, eyes filled with blood and pus, muscles trembling, blood seeping from every pore. She had watched them die. For weeks she had watched them die, unable to go for help, not knowing if there was even anyone to get help from.
And then she had been the last one left. She had started to sicken herself. They had said it was the food, the water, the ground, even the air.
Then they had come. The light had filled her mind, and the voice had echoed in her ears.
With a scream, Sherann woke.
Again. Every night she dreamed about it. Kalain's genocidal purge. Hiding for so long.
And then.... the flames, the sickness, and the light.
Slowly she rose from her bed and walked to the little shrine in the corner of the room. Sitting before it, she tried to focus her will enough to meditate, but she could not. Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could see was the light.
There was a gentle chime from the door, and Sherann turned. "Yes?"
"Sherann? Are you well?"
She breathed out slowly. Kats. "Yes. Enter."
The door opened and Sherann's cousin walked in. She looked dignified and composed. It was still a marvel that a worker could walk about so free here, in a society ruled by a warrior. Sherann could never forget the months of the purging.
"I was worried that you slept so late," Kats said. "It is past noon."
"Really? I.... ah.... bad dreams."
Kats nodded, and sat down beside her. "The same ones?"
"Yes. Always.... the same.... ones."
"I used to dream as well. About.... Kalain, and the Council. It doesn't last forever." Sherann marvelled that her cousin could speak of this with such calmness. Kats had told her about what she had suffered during the purges. All those months of torture and humiliation.
"Do you still.... have the dreams?"
"Not those, no. Now I dream of someone.... something completely different." She looked down demurely. "You do not need to know."
Sherann smiled. It was almost as it had been in their childhood, talking happily about their dreams, goals, ambitions. Kats had wanted to serve, always. She had not wanted to lead.
"I had a message today," Kats said suddenly, breaking the mood. "It was from Sinoval."
"Is he coming back?" Sherann asked breathlessly. She had come here to find him, to find the legendary Primarch Sinoval, only to discover she had missed him by a matter of days. He had been on Kazomi Seven for weeks.
"Yes. He will be here tomorrow."
Sherann breathed out slowly and bowed her head, almost crying. "And he will help us?" she whispered. "He.... will.... help us?"
"I am sure he will. He is.... a good person at heart."
"You must know him well."
"I.... think I do, but he is warrior, and different from us. Different from most warriors, as well."
"What sort of person is he? I have only ever heard the rumours. The warriors here, the.... Primarch's.... Pikes?"
"The Primarch's Blades," Kats corrected.
"They seem to follow him unreservedly. I heard one of them swear an oath to die if the Primarch a
sked. What sort of person could make a warrior say something like that?"
Kats paused. "He is.... intense. He believes he can do anything he sets his mind to, and that obstacles are merely brief inconveniences. I sometimes feel he can do anything at all. When he is there.... everything else pales beside him. The air seems to crackle. And his eyes.... I am very, very thankful he considers me his friend....
"I would never wish to be his enemy."
"He does think you a friend?" Kats nodded. "I don't.... I really don't believe it. You have moved up in the world since.... before."
"Things have changed," she said softly. "Few of them for the better. Sinoval can be a force for great good, if he wishes to be. I.... took on my role to ensure that everything he does is for good.... I tried, but.... some.... things...."
"This would be the warrior? What was his name?"
"Kozorr. He is.... gone. Please.... do not...."
Sherann nodded, swallowing. "I understand." She was just grateful Kats had not asked about Inesval. She had seen his body, and the things the warriors had done to it.
"Sinoval will be here tomorrow. You can speak to him then."
"And he will listen to me?"
"Yes. He will listen."
* * *
"I don't believe it. I'll be damned. Guess the R'Gov finally did something useful."
Dexter Smith was not listening. He was still staring at the vidscreen. The sports results had resumed, but flashing at the bottom of the screen was the news report. .... war criminal Delenn captured by Resistance Government forces. For more information check....
"Turn that thing off," said Talia angrily.
Zack shrugged. "Off." Smith shook his head and turned back to the man on the sofa. Zack was still munching at his pizza. "You've met her, haven't you?" he remarked
"What do you mean?"
"You've met her. Delenn. I've seen her a couple of times. While I was on the Babylon, of course. She was completely Minbari for a while, and then she was.... really weird-looking. Sort of half-human, half-Minbari but not quite either. Freaked me out, it did. I guess she's perfected the process since then. Some of the guys down the station actually think she's kind of hot-looking." Zack shook his head. "Takes all kinds, huh?" He looked at Smith, and sighed. "Oh, yeah, you've met her."
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