The Other Half of my Soul addm-1

by Gareth D. Williams

  And then there was light, and the thirty-year-old memory faded. A Minbari was in front of him. He had seen her arguing in the Hall.

  “Greetings,” she said softly, in English. “I am called…”

  “Satai Delenn,” he finished for her, studying her closely. She looked almost… frail, but a fire burned in her eyes, just beneath the surface. She seemed to be studying him. “I heard your name spoken in Council. You’re the one who wanted me sent here.”

  “You speak our language?” She did not sound surprised.

  “You aren’t the only one to have picked up bits and pieces of someone else’s language. What is to stop me from tearing you apart here and now?”

  “You could try, but you would fail.”

  “You can only kill me once. What have I got to lose?”

  She inclined her head slowly. “Surely you have something to live for?”

  “Yes. I do. The hope that I can kill a few more of you monsters before I die!”

  She seemed surprised. “Such hatred,” she whispered in her native tongue, and then something about Valen. “How can you live with such hatred?”

  “Simple enough when it’s all you’ve had for ten years. You took my life, my home, parents, sister, daughter… you took everything away from me until hatred is all I have left.”

  “And all you deserve?”

  “Perhaps, but I don’t care any more.”

  “Then I have a question. Why have you not attacked me? I am Satai. I am the embodiment of everything you hate. Why have you not tried to kill me?”

  “Because you’d be expecting that, and I didn’t become the Starkiller by doing what people expect of me.”

  “You seem almost proud of that title.”

  “Earned in battle, granted me by my enemies. Damn straight I am.”

  “I am equally as proud of my title. Satai. Perhaps you understand, Captain?”

  “Whatever. I take it you’re here to question me?”

  “No. I simply wanted to talk.”

  “And you expect me to believe that?”

  “No,” she said softly. She then doused her light and left, leaving Sheridan to stare after her, only the lingering trace of orange blossom to mark her presence.

  “Interesting, wasn’t she?” said another voice. A female voice. Speaking English.

  “Who? Where are you?”

  “Right here, Captain. Oh, a little light, perhaps?” A brief and dull light illuminated the face of a woman in the corner of the cell. “I entered when she did, and hid here. She didn’t see me. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “I didn’t see you either. What are you doing here, and how did you get in? Minbar isn’t exactly full of humans.”

  “I have a few… friends, here and there. Don’t worry, Captain, I just came in to see you. To… talk. After we’re done, we’ll both leave together.”

  “Oh, just like that? Walk out the door?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Just my luck. Stuck in a Minbari cell with either a madwoman or a hallucination.”

  “Hardly mad, Captain, and very real. By the way, my name is Susan Ivanova, and I have one question to ask you. A simple enough question, really.

  “Captain, what do you want?”

  Chapter 3

  Captain John J. Sheridan must have died and gone to Hell. Maybe that Minbari pike had done more than merely knock him unconscious for a few hours. Maybe it had caved his skull in and his body was now lying in some unmarked hole on Vega 7, unadorned and unremembered, while his soul was in whatever particular level of Hades the Devil reserved for people like him. For people with more blood on their hands than could be found on entire planets.

  List of charges: The destruction of the Black Star. Guilty as charged, and damn proud of it. A foolish attack on the Grey Council and the death of two of its members. As stated. Countless Minbari and Centauri over the course of a fourteen-year war. No defence. His daughter, left alone for a matter of minutes, but just long enough for a Minbari bomb to blow her apart. Negligence? Guilty. Of allowing his wife to become a drunken, sodden shadow of her former self? Guilty. Of giving hope where there could be none to people fighting an unwinnable war? Guilty.

  A long enough list of charges, and surely enough to guarantee his eternal damnation. John Sheridan had never been an especially religious man, but he believed in Hell. He had seen it when he had returned to the ruins of his homeworld. If that had been Hell, then maybe so was this.

  “What do you want?”

  John Sheridan looked at Susan Ivanova and finally decided to reply. If this was an illusion of Minbari trickery, he could pretend to succumb to it in order to trick them. And if this was some Hell-sent denizen about to torture him, then he would accept his fate. He had never fled from anything in his life, and he was not about to start now.

  The trouble was, having decided to answer the question, he didn’t know what answer to give. “What do you mean?” he said at last. “It’s a pretty stupid question, don’t you think? Coming in a place like this.”

  “Do you know anywhere better to ask?” she replied, smiling. “Perhaps we should go to Las Vegas and I can ask you there.”

  “There is no Las Vegas any more.”

  “I know. It’s a pity really. I’d have liked to have seen it. Just once.”

  “You haven’t missed much, believe me.”

  “If you say so. Well, Captain. What do you want?”

  “Why are you asking me that?”

  “It’s important. Very important. What do you want?”

  Sheridan laughed. This was absurd. “I want to be out of this cell. How’s that for a start?”

  “That’s all you want? I can’t believe your ambitions are so limited, Captain.”

  “They aren’t. I’m just… not sure how to answer the question.”

  “Just do your best.”

  He laughed again. If this woman was a demon, she was certainly an entertaining one. “I want to return to the Babylon. I want to return to my crew. I want to be a million miles away from this world, and from that high and mighty, perfect Grey Council. I want each and every Minbari wiped from the face of the planet. I want them to suffer as we have suffered. And I want the Narns to experience something from our point of view as well. After all I’ve done for them, they betrayed me. So let them suffer, let their planet be bombed from space and their people enslaved. And the Centauri too, while we’re at it. They stood back and watched as we fought and died, so let them suffer. I want Earth back, whole again. I want my wife to be the woman she was when I married her, not the… the shadow she is today. I want my daughter back in my arms again. And… and I want a large vanilla ice cream, with a flake and wafer. Does that answer your question?”

  Ivanova laughed. Quite an attractive laugh, really. “I’m not sure what I can do about your daughter, or the ice cream, but I’ll see what I can do about the others.”

  Sheridan couldn’t help himself. He was laughing too. “Just like that? You are an illusion.”

  “Could an illusion do this?” Ivanova stepped up to the door and pushed gently. It slid open. Sheridan blinked as light suddenly filled his cell, and then he stared up at Ivanova. She extended her arm. “Shall we go then? Or were you planning on staying here?”

  * * * * * * *

  Delenn knew that it was Draal behind her before he began to speak. Over the years she had come to recognise the sound of his footsteps. It was a comforting sound. It reminded her of her father.

  “You are working again. I suppose I should not be surprised, Delenn. After all, you never listened to me when you were a child, so why should you start now, hmm?”

  She turned, and smiled. “I must have been a terrible burden to you, old friend. To be saddled with so disobedient a child.”

  “A burden? No. A challenge, certainly. I never met anyone with such a desire for knowledge as you, for all that it frequently led you into… strange directions.” He paused and looked at her in the studied, deep
way he often used. “What is it, Delenn? Something is troubling you.”

  She knew better than to lie to her old teacher, her father’s best friend. “I… I think I have uncovered something, old friend. Something that shakes me to my very core. I hope… I pray that I am wrong, but I doubt that I am.”

  “This something, would it involve the human Sheridan? Oh, don’t look so surprised, Delenn. There are still some on the Grey Council who listen to a doddering old man and feed him crumbs of information from time to time. Just enough to keep his mind working. The Starkiller is being held in this very building, Delenn, and I find you here, still studying and working when you do not have to. What is it about this human?”

  “He is… I do not know how to describe it, old friend. There is such hatred in his eyes, such… capability for destruction. It is both terrifying and… strangely reassuring. I cannot explain it, Draal, only say how I feel. I think I have known him for a very long time. Perhaps he is the One the prophecies speak of, the One who is destined to lead us against the Enemy that is returning.”

  “Or perhaps he is simply a mass murderer. I would have thought that one such as him would be a better candidate to serve the Enemy rather than lead against them.”

  “That is what I must know. Where will he side? Is he the One spoken of? There is great… possibility within him and it must be turned to our side. If he can serve our cause, then he will be a valuable ally.” She made to say more, but hesitated. She knew Draal suspected her of holding something back, but not even he could suspect this. That she thought Starkiller Sheridan, a man hated and feared throughout the Minbari Federation, housed a Minbari soul.

  “Persuading him to ally with us will be difficult, Delenn, if not impossible.”

  “But I must try. It may be that we have our new Entil’zha locked in a cell in this very building.”

  Draal’s eyes turned hard. “I did not hear that, Delenn. It is one thing to speak of Sheridan as a potential ally. For better or for worse, the man is a force in this galaxy. But as Entil’zha? A human, even this one, to lead the Rangers? No, Delenn, that is beyond stupidity and into blasphemy.”

  “I am sorry, old friend. I think… my mind runs away with me. But would Sinoval be a better choice? For unless there is an alternative, it will be Sinoval who is our new Entil’zha. I saw Sinoval and Sheridan in the Hall of the Council today. It was as though they were two sides of the same mirror. I fear that Sinoval’s ambitions are running away with him.”

  “But you cannot stop him when you are down here, Delenn. You are the chosen of Dukhat, never forget that. You must be the voice of reason in the Council, opposing Sinoval. You cannot be that if you hide down here all the time.”

  “Oh, but I can, Draal. I can.” She paused and looked up at the man who had shaped her life for so long. Then she rose to her feet and made the ritual gesture of departure. He repeated it and watched as she left, never suspecting that beneath her robes she bore a Triluminary.

  With which to test Sheridan’s soul.

  * * * * * * *

  “The transmissions indicate that Captain Sheridan was taken to Minbar, Commander,” the lieutenant said. David Corwin listened and nodded, but said nothing.

  Minbar. If the Resistance Government on Proxima 3 knew what he was doing he would be spaced so fast he would think he’d been born in a vacuum, but this had to be done. Captain Sheridan had saved his life more times than he could count, and now that Sheridan was in danger, Corwin had to go to the rescue.

  “Any word on the others?”

  “The message we intercepted just said the captain, Sir, but I presume…”

  “Never presume anything,” Corwin snapped. “Very well, if we’re going to assault the Minbari homeworld, now is as good a time as ever, I suppose. Set course for…”

  “Wait, Commander. We’re picking up a coded message. It’s Earthforce, sir.”

  “If it’s the Resistance Government then…”

  “No, sir. It’s… an old code, sir, three or four years old. But it seems to be coming from Minbar.”

  “How could the Minbari know four-year-old… The captain! Put it on!”

  Corwin swivelled in the chair – the captain’s chair – and turned to the reception screen. It was fuzzy and blank, but the message that came through was clear.

  Captain Sheridan will be fine. I can get him off Minbar, but we’ll need transportation when that happens. Care to give us a lift, David? Wait at these co-ordinates.

  “It’s a trap, sir. Got to be.”

  “No,” Corwin breathed. “Oh no, it isn’t.” He’d recognised the voice, and he was mouthing a silent prayer of thanks. “Set course for the relayed co-ordinates. I think we’re going to get the captain back.”

  * * * * * * *

  Sheridan was lost in this labyrinth of Minbari corridors, but Ivanova seemed to know where they were going. Didn’t these damned Minbari know how to build a corridor in a straight line? He was also feeling more than a little uncomfortable, and a little more alive. Here he was, on the homeworld of his sworn enemy, with no weapons and his spaceship several systems away, and his only ally a mysterious woman who seemed more than half insane.

  It was exhilarating.

  “You do know where we’re going, don’t you?” he asked Ivanova. He hated trusting others with matters like this.

  “You’re too tense. Where’s your sense of fun? Of adventure?”

  “You aren’t trying to cheer me up, are you? I hate being cheered up.”

  “Fine, then we’re all going to die lingering, horrible deaths. Especially if the Minbari catch us. Feeling better now?”

  “Not really.”

  “Good. My brother always said I was too pessimistic.” They came to a divergence of corridors and Ivanova looked down both of them. “It’s this way,” she said, indicating one of the routes. “I think.”

  “Which way did you come in?”

  “That’s… ah, sort of hard of explain.”

  The two of them had taken four steps in the direction Ivanova had indicated when a door opened in front of them and a Minbari stepped out. And not just any Minbari.

  Satai Delenn.

  * * * * * * *

  For a brief moment Delenn was stunned. It was the Starkiller. Somehow he had escaped. She barely noticed the human woman beside him, focussing instead on Sheridan, forced to step back from the blazing fury in his eyes.

  And then the human woman said something, and Delenn turned to her.

  Time seemed to slow, a moment Commander Corwin called the long second. The human woman was no longer just a human, but a blackening silhouette, a darkness so absolute that it penetrated to her very soul, waking a hatred even more powerful than Sheridan’s, because it was hidden beneath a calm surface.

  Delenn’s thought was as terrible as the one she had reached concerning Sheridan’s soul. The Enemy is awake, and it has come here.

  And then she surrendered herself to the instincts of battle, rigorously forged in her by her father, by Durhan, by Neroon. It did not matter who the woman was, or why she was interested in Sheridan. It only mattered that she served the Enemy – the Enemy that Delenn had dedicated her life to fighting.

  She struck forward, lashing out with her fist and catching the human woman off guard, knocking her backwards. The woman stumbled, but then Sheridan moved forward. He seemed to hesitate before hitting her, a brief moment that allowed Delenn to duck his punch and strike out at his belly. He too stumbled, and she gained enough time to unfold her fighting pike, a weapon centuries old, given to her in love by Neroon. It was a deadly weapon in the hands of a master, and while Delenn was no Durhan, she had been trained well enough.

  Backing up against the wall, she gripped the staff tightly in both hands. She did not know human physiology as well as she might have done, but she knew enough to incapacitate these two. Then the Council would have to be warned. Not just that Sheridan had escaped, but that the Enemy was here.

  There was a sudden noise,
a buzzing and crackling. Delenn started and turned. There was a shimmering directly in front of her eyes, a shimmering in the shape of a giant, misshapen crab. Reason left her and she lunged forward with her staff, lashing out vainly at the beast before her, a beast from each and every one of her worst nightmares.

  It moved with a speed that seemed impossible. One swift motion and she fell, in agony, very much aware that the warm dampness in her belly was her own blood.

  * * * * * * *

  “What the hell was that?” Sheridan asked as he stared at the fallen Delenn. “Do you mind telling me?”

  “A friend, Captain. You’ll find we have them everywhere. Come on. She might have raised an alarm or something.”

  Ivanova bent down and picked up the strange weapon Delenn had been using. “A quick blow to the neck and she’ll be out of your misery, Captain.”

  Orange blossom. “No, we’ll take her with us.”

  “And you said I was crazy?”

  “Look, the Minbari won’t threaten us if we’ve got one of the Grey Council with us. Think what a hostage she’d make, not to mention what she knows. Now come on, you said you knew a way out of this place.”

  Ivanova shrugged and compressed the pike. “Always wanted one of these. Asked my father for one for Christmas one year. It’s this way.”

  As Sheridan bent down to pick up Delenn, he noticed a small triangular object that had fallen from her robes. Without thinking, he stuffed it into a pocket. He was surprised by how light the Minbari was, and by the fact that the scent of orange blossom was now replaced by the smell of blood and death. Had he been less preoccupied, he might also have noticed the same buzzing and crackling noise that had so affected Satai Delenn.

  * * * * * * *

  “Captain! Good to see you again. I thought… that is… Good to have you back, sir.”

  “Good to be back, David.” Sheridan stepped off the shuttle into the small docking bay aboard the Babylon. “We have a guest in need of urgent medical assistance. If you can get Dr. Kyle to have a look at her, stat.”