The Other Half of my Soul addm-1

by Gareth D. Williams

  Technically the Narns and the Centauri were at war. Well, technically and actually, but Londo had still found it irritating to be attacked by a Narn warship so far from the war zone. He had been on his way to Frallus 12, to rendezvous with a number of his sources and agents there, when they’d run into a Narn cruiser.

  This is so absurd! he thought. I wonder if that Captain has any idea of who I am. If G’Kar knew about this, he would… If G’Kar knew about this… if G’Kar…

  All right, so maybe G’Kar was a little hard to reach these days. His chief lackey in the Kha’Ri wasn’t.

  He had managed to bully his way to a communications centre and had patched a very hurried message through to the Narn homeworld, using a special frequency and code G’Kar had made available to all in his little Circle of Light. His hopes for a reply had been slim, but he had definitely not been expecting the Narn captain himself to appear on the screen.

  “Minister Mollari,” had said the Captain. “I am Warleader Na’Kal, of the J’Tok. It has come to my attention that we walk in similar circles.”

  That was news to Londo. Did G’Kar have agents everywhere? “I suppose that we do,” he said carefully. “In gesture of our… similarities, how would you feel about stopping your attack?”

  “Already done. I am loyal to G’Kar, and my crew are loyal to me. We have received word that the Enemy is active at last, and are engaging the Minbari in battle over Proxima. G’Kar has ordered us to try and assist the Minbari. He asks that you do the same.”

  “Oh, great!” Londo muttered. His warrior days were long gone – had gone at Frallus 12, in fact, but still… A chance to rekindle old glories? Perhaps even a chance to put him back in his rightful position in the Royal Court? “I will see what I can do.”

  “Do you have telepaths aboard?”

  “I believe there may be one or two. Do you?”

  “Yes, although he is not very strong.”

  “Well, then. It looks as though G’Kar has done the impossible, and we’ll actually be fighting together, no?”

  “Some things are more important than revenge, Minister. You have the co-ordinates for Proxima, I trust?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I will see you there.” Na’Kal suddenly paused. “Are you a gambling man, Minister?”

  Londo contemplated lying, but knew that would be pointless. “Yes.”

  “Then what would you gamble that we destroy more of their ships than you do?”

  Londo smiled. A Narn with something intelligent to say. That was rare. A Narn with a sense of humour…

  That was far rarer.

  * * * * * * *

  Marcus was… just waiting, trying to look at anything other than the woman before him. She was waiting as well. Waiting for what, he didn’t know. She’d returned from her meeting with General Hague in a dark mood. She’d paced up and down angrily, drunk a little more of that Narn liquor, and simply waited, arguing with herself, although she said nothing. Marcus was no stranger to self-conflict, and he recognised the signs in her. He wasn’t sure what she was debating, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. All he wanted to know was where Lyta was.

  Marcus Cole had done many things in his life that he was ashamed of. His drunken submission after Earth had fallen and his home colony – Vega 7 – had been taken over by the Narns. His survival when almost everyone else had been killed. His insistence on serving as Sheridan’s bodyguard – just a means to escape his own problems. The way he had betrayed Lyta – and Sheridan – by succumbing to Ivanova’s advances.

  Of nothing he had done was he more ashamed than this. He had been entrusted with a task – an important task – and he had failed. Ivanova had tricked him so easily, she had locked him up and been free to go about her own business. Marcus wasn’t sure exactly what she had done, but he could see the distance in her eyes when she returned, and he knew that it was something dreadful.

  He still didn’t know what had happened to Captain Sheridan, or Satai Delenn, or Commander Corwin… or Lyta. He had been here for almost two weeks. Ivanova had been in and out during that time, but he knew he could not escape when she was gone. He just beat at the walls and screamed out for Lyta, but there was nothing. Nothing and no one. And when she was here…

  Ivanova suddenly raised her head and looked up. “And so it begins,” she whispered. She took a deep breath and activated her link. Marcus did not hear her message, but he did pick up the name ’Welles’.

  And then Ivanova had sat back, still looking at the ceiling. “It’s beginning,” she told him. “The Minbari are here, and my friends are here to fight them. We’ll win, of course. They can’t hold us off. We’re too strong.” Ivanova laughed, but it sounded false. “We’ll win, and after this, we’ll take the war to them for a change.

  “We’re aren’t going to have to be afraid any more, Marcus. And neither are you.”

  He was about to ask what she meant, when the door opened. In walked a security guard – it was Boggs – and he was dragging someone…

  “Lyta!” Marcus exclaimed. He leapt up and moved forward, but, moving with a speed he found surprising, Ivanova extended her Minbari pike and formed a barrier with it. Boggs bowed to Ivanova and left.

  Marcus looked down at the woman he had grown to care for. Lyta had done most of the chasing in their relationship, and he had been overcautious, certainly, but it was only recently that he was beginning to realise how much she meant to him.

  She was bruised and battered. Her clothing was partially torn, and her face was covered with bruises and scratches. Her breathing was harsh and ragged, and her right eye was badly swollen. The left looked vague and unfocussed.

  “Look at her,” Ivanova was saying. “The uniform, the gloves, the badge… all designed to make her stand out, to make her different, to make her special. But without her powers, she’s not special at all. She’s just like each of us, except that she isn’t, because she doesn’t have anything else. No family, no lover, no… no reason to get up in the morning.

  “Psi Corps won’t let any of their members have those things. They won’t let their members be happy. They won’t let any telepath be happy, because it reminds them of everything they’ve taken away from themselves.”

  Marcus was still looking at Lyta. She had raised her head to look at him. Her expression shot to his very heart.

  “How you feel now,” Ivanova said to Lyta. “That’s how my mother felt every day of her life since they found her. That’s… that’s how I’d feel if you found me. I’ve been afraid of you… of this badge, since I was a child.” She bent down over Lyta, relaxing her hold on the pike across Marcus’ chest. He tried to step forward, but she pushed him back. She roughly pulled the badge from Lyta’s dress and held it up.

  “But it’s just a bit of plastic. I’ve been afraid of this… afraid of you all this time for nothing. This is just plastic, and you… you’re just as weak as the rest of us, without your powers, without what makes you special.

  “I needn’t have been afraid, and now I’m not.

  “Look at her, Marcus. She’s been lying to you all along. She’s been using her power on you all along. She’s been raping you every time you’re together and it’s all the worse because you never knew about it, and she keeps on pretending that she loves you.

  “Psi Corps doesn’t know the meaning of the word love, Marcus. She’s just using you. Using you to try and gain a part of her life that she can never have.”

  Marcus started as something shimmered beside him. He turned, and gasped…

  (A black scream in his mind the earth broke as it rose it screamed in his mind it was big and black and came from Hell it screamed in his mind screamed in his mind…)

  Marcus knew he was looking at a Shadow. Two Shadows. He stumbled and staggered backwards. He fell.

  “She can’t love you, Marcus,” Ivanova said. “Only I can.”

  She gripped her pike tighter and looked down at Lyta. Lyta was trying to say something, but she c
ouldn’t get the words out.

  Marcus tried to move forward, but the Shadow was there, blocking his way.

  Ivanova raised her pike…

  * * * * * * *

  “Shai Alyt, we’re intercepting a message.” Tryfan looked across at the Ranger who had said this. The very title of Shai Alyt addressed to him gave him a moment’s pride and exultation, but he soon focussed his attention back to the matter at hand. Holy One Sinoval and Satai Kalain had entrusted him with this position. He would not prove them wrong.

  “It’s from… it’s from her. Zha’valen.”

  Tryfan started. Delenn, formerly of the family of Mir, formerly of the Grey Council, formerly chosen of Dukhat, formerly a Minbari. Now, she was Zha’valen, traitress to her race and her people, and willing agent of the Enemy. The Grey Council had pronounced her Zha’valen – literally, a Shadow on Valen – a few weeks before. Now, no Minbari could speak to her, look at her, or even speak her name. She was outcast.

  By the laws of his people, Tryfan should ignore the message, deny it as he should deny her very existence, but… this was war, and practicalities were more important than principles. If this was genuine…

  But even Tryfan could only go so far.

  “Send the message to the Grey Council, to Satai Kalain if you can. Let them decide what to do about it.”

  “Should we not listen to it first? It might be important, Shai Alyt.”

  “She is Zha’valen,” Tryfan countered. “Her words are as dust, her heart is as stone. Nothing she says matters to us.” Ritualistic words that could not fail to hide Tryfan’s deep anger and disappointment. He had known Delenn – known her well. To see her as traitress and outcast… it hurt.

  But duty came first. Duty and honour.

  Tryfan was unsure of whether it was instinct or pure luck that caused him to look up at that moment, but he did look up, and he was the first to see, on the display before him, the sight of the big, black ships shimmering into existence. He breathed in harshly (hearing the screams in his mind) and whispered a silent prayer to Valen to guide him.

  The Shadows were here.

  * * * * * * *

  General Laurel Takashima was certainly no stranger to battle. No one promoted in Earthforce in the aftermath of the fall of Earth could be. She had seen Minbari ships flying through the heavens above Mars, and she had seen Captain Sheridan’s bloody charge into their armada on this very ship. Takashima did not like Captain Sheridan, but she had to acknowledge his skill. The Babylon was his ship, not hers.

  And then there was the crew…

  Most of the Babylon’s crew had been off-ship – either being questioned by Welles and his security guards or just being out of the way – when Sheridan had defected. A handful of the crew had gone with him, and stayed with him. Another handful had come back, along with a few of Mr. Bester’s people.

  Bester had, unsurprisingly, provided no explanation for what had happened to the Babylon, or what had happened to Captain Sheridan. The newly promoted President Clark had muttered darkly about a few things, but had then let the matter lie. General Hague was becoming seriously unstuck. Mr. Welles was, of course, interested, but then he always was. Takashima…

  This felt uncomfortable, and it was more than just the concern about facing the Minbari again. The Babylon was the mainstay of Proxima’s defence force – with or without Captain Sheridan – and it had to be there when the Minbari arrived, but…

  Why did she feel that something strange was going on? There had been that unusual meeting earlier on, with one of the new bridge crew. One of Bester’s people, she supposed, but… why did she look oddly familiar?

  Takashima had stopped and looked at the woman. She was blonde, pretty, very elegant-looking. Takashima had never seen her before, but… “And you are?” she had asked.

  “Lieutenant Stoner,” had come the reply. “Second grade lieutenant.”

  Takashima had blinked. She had never heard of this Lieutenant Stoner. In theory a quick look at the records should enable her to verify Stoner’s ID, but the Minbari were coming, and there wasn’t time, and… and… and she didn’t want to.

  The instruments were picking up two other heavy class Earthforce destroyers nearby, but Takashima was not surprised, almost as if she’d been… expecting them.

  The message came through. The image on the commscreen was of a harsh, severe-looking military man with a scar.

  “Colonel Ari Ben Zayn, Captain of the Ozymandias,” the man said. “A pleasure to meet you, General.” He didn’t sound as if he meant it.

  “Likewise, Colonel.” Takashima had met him before, once, when she was still a cadet and he was the hero of New Jerusalem. He was supposed to be dead. Another of Bester’s little surprises.

  “They’re here. Ben Zayn out.” The image faded and Takashima heard the voice of Lieutenant Franklin, one of the old bridge crew. She didn’t need to hear his exact words. She knew.

  The Minbari were here.

  * * * * * * *

  “Uncle Londo, what exactly have you got us into?”

  A difficult question to answer, Londo thought. Stopping an attack by a Narn warship was one thing, but getting involved in a pitched battle, that was quite another.

  Minbari on one side, humans and Shadows on the other, and the J’Tok and the Valerius in the middle, trying to drive back the Shadows and avoid getting shot by the humans or the Minbari.

  It was at times like this that Londo wished he’d gone into farming instead.

  Land, animals, crops, there. No big black insect-type ships, no insane wagers with Narns, no… no adventure, no glory, no respect, no chance to help his people.

  “A wager, Carn,” Londo replied. “One of the greatest wagers of all.”

  “Uncle Londo, you haven’t been drinking, have you?”

  “Why, Carn! I am shocked by your attitude! Of course I have! But that is not the point. You won’t let some Narn claim superiority over us just because he did better in this battle than we did, will you? We are Centauri, Carn! We can best any Narn or human any day!”

  “Of course we can!”

  “Good, then you know what to do?”

  “Yes, use our telepaths to jam their ships and then… well, hit them.”

  “Good, Carn. Good. You are learning. Now, you are the military man, so you do what you think best. If you want me, then I will be hiding under the bed in my quarters. Good luck.”

  For the first time in the history of their races, Narn and Centauri were fighting together, against a common enemy. It was a pity that the humans and the Minbari had not learned a similar lesson.

  * * * * * * *

  The battle over Proxima – the Second Line as it would later be called – was a mass of action, shifting, swirling, changing, with little rhyme, reason or strategy. To the pitifully small human defenders, it was simply a matter of holding the Line and protecting Proxima at any cost. To the Minbari, it was facing down the Enemy, crushing an opponent who should have stayed crushed after the last time, it was making a stand for Light against the Darkness.

  To the J’Tok, it was service to a respected and an admired leader, and a matter of Narnish pride. To Captain Carn Mollari, it was the wishes of his – slightly crazy – uncle, but also a matter of Centauri pride. Later, both captains would get into trouble for this from their governments, but that was if they survived. And if they did, then they would have formed a crucial bond together.

  To Captain Ben Zayn and Mr. Harriman Gray, it was about following orders, about taking a path and not deviating, about fighting and continuing and not surrendering. To Laurel Takashima, it was what should be a simple task – holding the Line – turning into a mass of voices screaming at her, amongst crew who had their own agendas and another set of thoughts originating in her mind.

  To Shai Alyt Tryfan, it was a chance for glory, and to justify the faith others had placed in him. To Satai Kalain, it was a military action, something that had to be done. To Holy One Sinoval, it was the conti
nuation of his destiny, a chance to achieve the future he knew belonged to him and his people. To the Satai Hedronn, Lennann and Rathenn, it was a day when the Minbari became not butchers, but doctors, cutting the evil away from the galaxy.

  To Ambassador Susan Ivanova, it was the end to fear. To Warmaster Jha’dur, Deathwalker, it was the beginning of her monument to her people.

  To General Hague, it was the day that self-esteem and self-respect died. To President Clark, it was a glorious day. To Mr. Welles it was a time when all his calculations and theories would be borne out and proved or disproved once and for all. To Bester, it was a time for testing and forging. To G’Kar, it was the beginning of the strike back. To Marcus, it was a time for choice. To Lyta, a time of sorrow. To Ta’Lon, a day when he wished he could get there on time.

  To Delenn, Zha’valen, it was a forlorn hope for peace. To Starfury pilot Neeoma Connally, it was a nightmare she would not wake up from. To Captain Sheridan and Commander Corwin it was…

  * * * * * * *

  To Captain Sheridan and Commander Corwin it was a time for choices.

  Sheridan had faced down Minbari fleets before. Standing at his side, so had Corwin. Neither was afraid. Sheridan was filled with the supreme confidence he always felt in battle. It was a chance to forget everything else, to forget Bester and Anna and Clark and Delenn and focus on the one thing that made him special. Corwin was less confident, but just as focussed.

  Sheridan’s normal strategy in a situation like this would be to mine the entrance to the system, fight a slow holding action and pull the Minbari ships into the mines. It had worked with the Black Star, and it compensated for their inability to target the Minbari ships. There were just two problems, however…

  One was that he had arrived here at about the same time as the Minbari fleet, meaning that the area had not been mined. Whatever the Resistance Government’s reasons for not doing this, it meant that Sheridan had to act quickly, throwing his Starfury squadrons forward as a sacrificial screen, allowing him enough time to back off slowly and begin laying the minefields, hoping that enough of his Starfuries would get back in time before the mines became active.