A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 4. A Future, Born in Pain addm-4
Page 70
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.
Chapter 5
"It is over."
"Yes, it is over."
"You have won."
"Yes, we have won."
* * *
They came, from star to distant star. From worlds of fire and worlds of ice. From darkness and light. From hope and despair. From love and hatred.
They came, they gathered, ships passing in the night. Old friends, older enemies, all drawn by the same irresistible force.
It will soon be over.
The words hung in all their minds.
It will soon be over.
No one was sure when exactly it had begun. People spoke of the Battle of the Second Line, where the Shadow ships had first appeared in force to go to war. Some mentioned the Third Line as the true beginning of the war, the apocalyptic battle that had seen the destruction of an entire planet. Some spoke of the terrible day when Minbar had been scorched with fire and fury from the heavens.
Some, most notably the Narn and the Centauri, referred to the beginning - or perhaps continuation is a better word - of their conflict, over three years gone now. Some, who saw with wisdom, placed it at the very beginning, when the Centauri had reached a defenceless, peaceful world and launched an unprovoked attack.
Then there were those who were reminded of the human / Minbari conflict, the Battle of the Line, the Battles of Mars and Orion, the fall of the Black Star, the fateful first encounter.
A precious few even cast their minds back a thousand years, to the appearance of Valen, and the first War of Shadow.
But whenever it had started, whenever the first battle had begun, there was one thing all could agree on.
It will be over soon.
And so to Kazomi 7, they came.
* * *
The newly inaugurated Lord–General Carn Mollari knew little of the world of Kazomi 7. At least, he knew little that was not common knowledge. It was the centre of the United Alliance, a former Drazi colony, a crossroads between trade routes, that had been attacked and devastated by the Drakh in an unprovoked and brutal assault. From out of that period of nightmare and destruction, the Alliance had been formed.
Carn knew that his uncle, the High and August Emperor Mollari II, had played a part in that birthing, but little of the specifics. It was not something his uncle had ever liked to talk about.
He looked down upon the world. It did not seem much at all, really, but then the true wonder was not the planet itself, but what was above it.
Ships from countless different races. Drazi and Brakiri and Gaim and Llort and the Alliance's own ships - the Dark Stars. Carn noticed one or two Minbari warships, a few human capital ships. There was the fleet he had brought from Centauri Prime.
And there were the Narns as well, of course.
This was the largest war fleet every assembled in known history, and it was still growing.
"It will soon be over," he whispered to himself, merely repeating the refrain that was on everyone's lips - or whatever passed for lips in the case of some aliens. "It will soon be over."
But then he thought of his uncle sitting alone on his uncomfortable chair, and of the smiling human who always stood behind him, and Carn doubted very much whether it would soon be over. He doubted whether it would ever be over.
"So, this is it, hmm?" Carn turned, and bowed in the presence of Minister.... no, Ambassador now, Durano. The former Minister of Intelligence and now Ambassador to the United Alliance from the Centauri Republic. It was a glorious position. Durano was to be the voice of the entire Republic in matters of foreign affairs. It was a clear promotion....
So why did the whole thing stink of wrongness?
"It does not look like much, does it, Lord–General?" Durano asked. "But then I learned never to judge by appearances."
"As you say, Ambassador. The fleet, however...."
"Yes, the fleet. The largest ever assembled, or so we were told. Whatever power could gather this many races all together for one single purpose.... that sort of power should never be underestimated. There is a lot to discover here."
Carn turned as his personal aide came into the observation room. He was still unused to being in a position where he needed a personal aide. Kiron Maray had performed a similar function for the previous Lord–General, and he had done so with perfect efficiency. Carn had no complaint with his performance or intelligence, only that it seemed wrong, somehow. Carn did not feel like a Lord–General.
"Lord–General Mollari, Ambassador Durano, we have been invited to the surface to meet with the Alliance Council."
"We had better go, then," Durano said. "We would not want to keep the Council waiting."
Durano turned to leave, but Carn took one last look out of the window. Another ship moved into view, very near by. Carn's lips twitched into a wry smile. Na'Tok was here, then. The Narns were every much a part of the Alliance as the Centauri soon would be.
"I will see you down there, my friend," he whispered, to no one in particular. Then he followed Durano, ready to meet with the Council.
* * *
"You are a coward!"
There was little warmth in the rising suns, little light through the dark, cloudy skies. There was little comfort in the strong, foul–smelling breeze. There was little life in the dust–choked lakes that once had shone with light and beauty and colour.
Still, Kozorr looked out across the landscape before him, and smiled. He had come home now, and he was never going to leave it again.
"You are a coward and a weakling! You knew how to fight once! You can learn how to fight again!"
Minbar had once been a thriving and beautiful world, filled with ancient wonders and beautiful visions. Then the humans and the Drakh had come and rained poisoned fire from the heavens, searing the ground and destroying the air and turning all to death.
Kozorr had not been there to defend his world. He had spent that time in agony, with a broken and shattered leg, a flayed and mutilated hand and a cracked headbone, all injuries sustained honourably and nobly, although such a differentiation meant little to him these days.
They had left Minbar, under the guidance of the Primarch Sinoval the Minbari people had abandoned their ancestral home and taken to the stars. Now Primarch Sinoval was gone, disa
ppeared, and the Minbari had returned home.
The poisons had faded, but not vanished. The air could be breathed, but not easily. The ground could be cultivated, but not without hours of back–breaking labour. The task was difficult, and would not be achieved in generations, but the first act of the new Grey Council had been to begin to restore Minbar.
Kozorr, once a warrior, now a worker by acceptance and marriage, had welcomed this task.
"Look at me! What has happened to you, Kozorr? You were a warrior once. How are you so blind now?"
He looked away, turning his back on that glorious sunrise, and found himself staring at Tirivail. Her eyes were filled with fury, and her bearing was one of absolute control over herself. She was a warrior.
She was more than a warrior. She was Satai. One of the new Grey Council. One of the three warriors. Her father, Takier, was another. The third position for the warrior was as yet undecided. Both Takier and Tirivail wanted Kozorr to take that position, but he would not stand there. He had stood in the columns of light once, a part of Kalain's ill–fated Grey Council, and he would not stand there again.
Besides, he was a warrior no longer.
"You are a coward," Tirivail spat again.
She looked glorious in her wrath, her eyes flashing. She was a true warrior. Once he had thought he had feelings for her, feelings beyond mere admiration of her beauty and her skill. Perhaps he still did feel for her, but he knew true love now, and beside that, what he felt for Tirivail was as a candle to a star.
"No, Tirivail," he said. "I am no coward." Once he would have called her 'my lady', but no longer. There was only one woman who merited that address from him now. "Indeed, I feel braver now than I ever have."
"It is her, isn't it?" Tirivail sneered. "You could have come with me, Kozorr. We could have ridden into battle side by side, flames lashing around us, weapons held high, glorying in triumph and victory after victory. You could have known me in battle and in love, and yet you turn to a weak worker, and she has made you a coward."
"Kats is not weak," Kozorr said. His visage was unchanged, but there was danger in his voice. Tirivail noticed it and took a slow step back. "She is not weak, and you know that. And all she has done to me is help me see the truth."
"No," Tirivail admitted, grudgingly. "She is not weak, I will give her that much. She is strong, for a worker. But she is not a warrior. You are."
"Not any more."
"We go to the greatest battle ever to be seen. We will ride to the gates of Sheol and cast open the doors. We will walk where only Valen himself once walked, and we will write new legends to last for the next thousand years! We will be the new Marrain, the new Derannimer, the new heroes for future generations. How long have we all dreamed of this....
"And you will remain here, hoeing fields and building bridges?"
"I would rather build a bridge than destroy one. I have had enough of war, Tirivail. I will not fight again. I will not kill again.... and I have no wish to be a hero."
"Then what do you wish to be? What else is there, if not a hero?"
"Husband," he said, smiling. "Father, even. I have done too much in my life I am not proud of, but this.... this is right. I know it."
She shook her head. "I do not understand."
"You will," he said, smiling. Confusion rose in her eyes, and then she turned, making for the door. "Tirivail," he called after her. "Return safely."
She made to say something, but fell silent. She left.
* * *
Captain David Corwin was a rarity in many ways, and he knew it. One of the few human captains in the entire Dark Star fleet, he also had the greatest experience of battle relative to his age of anyone, whether Drazi, Brakiri or Narn. He was in command of the third ship of the fleet, a powerful and prestigious position. He had been instrumental in many of the key engagements of the wars.
He was also one of the few captains to sleep on his ship.
Few people liked the Dark Stars. The crews spoke of dark dreams, of strange visions, of hearing screams of pain just echoing through the walls. Not many lasted long on them, despite necessity and prestige. Those who did became either dour and uncommunicative, or fearful and haunted. Of either type, few spent any longer on their ships than they had to.
All except David Corwin.
Oh, there were as many strange happenings on his ship - one of the few Dark Stars with a name, the Agamemnon, another rarity - as on any other. There were voices, strange sightings. The Captain frequently spoke when no one was there, addressing someone called 'Carolyn', a human name that belonged to none of the crew. During the epic battle with the Fist of Darkness to save Kazomi 7 he had spoken to two people, neither of whom were there, one was this Carolyn, the other was unknown.
Some speculated that he was insane, some that he was farsighted, and could see things others could not. Still others believed that he was supernaturally lucky. A few, with perhaps more wisdom, suggested that all three could be true, and indeed, all three were true.
But everyone flocked to his ship, and the Agamemnon was considered the finest post in the fleet, even more so than the Dark Star 1, ship of the fabled Shadowkiller, General Sheridan himself. Captains Daro and Kulomani, of Dark Stars 2 and 4 respectively, recognised Corwin as at least their equal, if not their superior.
Many things were said about Captain David Corwin, but one acknowledged fact was that he spent more time on his ship than any other captain, save only Sheridan himself. His crew had fewer instances of insanity or breakdown. For some reason, whatever curse afflicted the Dark Star fleet, the Agamemnon was largely immune to it.
So, when David Corwin left his ship and came down to the surface, it was for a good reason.
In this particular case, it was for the very best of reasons.
"I'd heard you were here," he said, smiling. "I wanted to come and see you earlier."
"Oh, David," said Lyta, smiling in her turn. She looked around, and for a single moment her eyes became black. She looked back at him and her smile returned, more relieved this time. She did not say the words, with either voice or mind, but her meaning was clear. We are safe now. We can talk now. "How are you?"
"Well.... I guess. Still alive, anyway. I meant to come and see you straight after the battle, but we had to return to Krindar pretty quickly. I wasn't sure if you'd be here."
"Oh, yes.... we were here. Whatever you said to him, it got the General riled up. He was determined to come and do what he could. And of course.... where he goes, I'm not far behind. The Vorlons don't want him hurt. Too much is riding on him."
"Are they still.... influencing him?"
"I don't know. I don't even know exactly what it was they did to him in the first place. But I can't sense any telepathic influence. I think they're just.... making him see what he wants to see. Half of what he's doing, he's doing himself."
"Good. Well, maybe not good. I don't know. I'd like to think this is easier to deal with.... if there isn't any.... you know."
"I think so. And rather you than me. How is Carolyn?"
"The same, I think. I'm talking to her a lot, like you said. I call her by name as often as possible, to remind her of who she was.... is. Half the crew think I'm insane, I've no doubt, but.... Will we be able to free her?"
"I don't know. I think that will involve bringing down the whole network, and whether that will free them or kill them all I don't know."
"Surely death's better than that."
"I think so. David.... if that ever happens to me, I'd prefer to die. Do you understand?"
He paused, and swallowed harshly. Then he nodded. "I understand. You can count on me." There was a painful lump in his throat.
She smiled. "It isn't going to happen though. This is almost over. Once the war is done.... there'll be a few years. A time to consolidate, to rebuild. I'll have time."
"To do what?"
"To get away. To find Sinoval. He's gone into hiding now, or so I can.... gather. But I can find him. He'll
let me find him. He's the one who can do this, if anyone can. I think that's his whole purpose. They're afraid of him."
"Sinoval. You'll go and.... work for him?"
"Not work for. Help him. But not until all this is done. As soon as this is over, as soon as I get the chance, then.... I'll be gone. You probably won't even see me leave."
"Good luck, then," he whispered. "I think I'll miss you."
Lyta smiled. "You could come along. I'd like to have you with me." She paused. "I can't believe I just said that," she added.
"I.... I...."
"No," she said quickly. "It doesn't matter. I've.... got to go. Good luck, David. Stay alive."
"Uh.... yeah. You, too."
Stay alive. He intended to. After all, what else was there?
* * *
Durano read the document carefully, keeping his mind calm. Precision was everything. There was a human saying he had picked up over the years, one he had liked the sound of very much.
God is in the details.
It was called the Kazomi Treaty, that would formally end the war between the Narn Regime and the Centauri Republic, with provisions allowing both entry into the United Alliance. Ordinarily such a complex and involved piece of legislation would be the result of months of intensive negotiation, constant references to various Governments, meetings, give–and–take and numerous draftings.
The Kazomi Treaty had taken less than two weeks, and most of it had been drafted beforehand. It had been made very clear there was little room for re–writing.
Durano skimmed past the territorial provisions. They were unchanged, and were more than reasonable. All borders were to be reset to the period immediately before the conflict. Worlds captured by either side were to be returned to their original jurisdictions. All invading or occupying forces were to return to sovereign soil.
More than reasonable, given that the Narns had had by far the advantage in that area. They had taken several more worlds than the Centauri.
The military provisions were awkward, but Durano was an experienced negotiator and he recognised them as inevitable. Certain sensitive systems were to be classified as Demilitarised Zones, with no armed presence from either side. Certain other systems were to have limited military presences. Some stations and satellites were to be removed.