A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 4. A Future, Born in Pain addm-4

by Gareth D. Williams

  "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.

 

  "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.

 

  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!"

 

  "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,


  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.