BABYLON 5: THE VIRTUAL SIXTH SEASON
"THE PRICE OF FREEDOM"
Episode 3
DUTIES TO THE REPUBLIC
Babylon 5 had received many strange visitors to its hallowed halls over the slightly more than six years it had been operational. Aliens from countless different races; an Emperor; a war criminal hated across the galaxy; a questor for a forgotten myth; a king from a time long gone; those seeking a new start; those with little to leave behind; Ministers; rulers; Ambassadors; rulers-to-be.
Very few, with the possible exception of the Dilgar war criminal Jha'Dur, had evoked such controversy or outrage.
It was, as Captain Elizabeth Lochley reflected, hardly the best of timing. The Centauri War had been over merely a matter of months. The fighting on station had died down, but old resentments still lingered. Many races had suffered attacks on their shipping lines by the Centauri, and the suspicions and divisions had all but torn the fledgling Alliance apart. The matter had been resolved, more or less, but relations were still touchy, especially after Emperor Mollari's inflammatory inaugration speech, taking the Republic out of the Alliance, probably for good.
All in all, this was not the best of times for the leader of the entire armies of the Republic to arrive at Babylon 5's door, even if it was on 'private business'.
She cast her mind back a day or two, to when she had heard of Lord-General Marrago's arrival.
"He's very much of the old school," had come the report from Theresa Halloran, the Alliance's new Head of Covert Intelligence, and a former terrorist to boot. "Full of vague concepts of honour, duty, respect to the Republic... all that sort of thing. Highly respected, particularly by his soldiers, and an old friend of the new Emperor. They were in the same... duelling society... or something. Old friends anyway.
"But, there's more to him than that, of course. That's where the problem is."
"A problem," had replied Lochley. "Of course. There has to be a problem."
Halloran looked at her cautiously for a moment, wondering if she were mocked. She had not been here long, and it would no doubt take her time to adjust. After a moment's pause, she continued...
"He's been Lord-General of the Republic's armies for the best part of twenty years. That means he was in charge during their war with the Narns. He was also in charge when they bombed the Narn homeworld. He governed a few Narn colonies during the occupation, and he wasn't exactly benevolent about it. His rule almost made what Earthdome was doing to Mars look lax. And on top of that, he was in charge of the army during the recent war."
"Not likely to have many friends here, then," chipped in Zack Allan, Head of Security.
"That's an understatement... unless you count Ambassador Cotto. He was engaged to Marrago's daughter... adopted daughter... for a while, anyway. Things just sort of... fell though a couple of years ago."
"And the message from Ambassador Cotto gave no reason for the Lord-General's visit?" asked Lochley.
"None at all. 'Private business' only. From what I could tell, I don't think the Ambassador knows."
"And does Ambassador Ta'Lon know?"
"Not yet. Do you think we should tell him?"
"He's going to find out sooner or later. Better it be sooner, I think. His people are going to be less than happy about this. To say nothing of the Drazi. Mister Allan, increase Security measures, particularly around Ambassador Cotto's quarters. Ms. Halloran... try and find out just why he's here."
"Trust me," spoke up Zack. "The longer he's here, the uglier things are going to get. We can't... refuse him entry or anything, can we?"
"Negative, Mister Allan. The Alliance is at a very delicate stage of negotiations with the Centauri Republic about the possibility of letting them back in. After the... fiasco with that missing data crystal last month, I don't think we can afford to rock the boat on this matter any more. No, let him come aboard. Keep an eye on him, and for God's sake don't let any harm come to him. Or we're all in trouble."
Lochley dragged herself back to the present as she waited for the Lord-General's ship to dock. A heavy Security guard was stationed, and other traffic had been delayed as much as was possible. The last thing they needed was some Narn or Drazi taking a potshot at the Lord-General as he entered.
Someone came into view at the end of the docking bay, and she straightened instinctively. Her full dress uniform itched something shocking, and she was sure a headache was coming on.
She was not sure entirely what she had been expecting from the infamous Lord-General Marrago, but she didn't get it from her first sight of him. He was a tall man, with a frightening ruff of hair to rival Londo's, although probably just a bit shorter. Length of hair was a status symbol among Centauri men and while few in the younger generations followed that tradition, the old school evidently did.
But it was his eyes that caught her. Charismatic and sparkling, they spoke of an infinity of experience. It was a look she had seen in the eyes of many veteran soldiers before they succumbed to inner despair. Her father had had those eyes... once. The President still did.
The Lord-General stopped just before her, and she was surprised to see he had only two personal guards. Each wore a crest on their tunic. The symbol of House Marrago, presumably. A short sword embossed over a very elaborate looking throne.
"Captain Lochley, I believe," he said. His voice was thickly accented, almost as much as Ambas... Emperor Mollari's had been. "I am greatly honoured. I had not expected such an illustrious welcome, or are all private citizens greeted this way upon arrival?"
"Ah, no, but then not all private citizens have your... colourful past."
"Or my enemies, hmm? Tell me, where is Ambassador Cotto? I was expecting to meet him here."
"He is waiting for you in his quarters. We tried to keep your arrival here as much of a secret as we could, and his presence here might...alarm people. We don't want there to be a fuss."
"You think I am in danger, here? Captain Lochley, I have survived the latter days of our first occupation of Narn. I lived through the Immolan Campaign, our second war with the Narns, I was Governor of a Narn colony for two years and I even survived growing up in the Royal Court. Do you really think my life is in danger here - on this place built for peace?"
"Babylon 5 may have been built for peace, Lord-General, but trust me. The reality is... somewhat different."
****************
"Kill him!" "Shon'Kar!" "Butcher!" "Monster!"
Ambassador Ta'Lon suffered in silence, listening to the ranting cries of his people. Secrets were hard things to keep, especially here. Word had reached them of the arrival of a certain Centauri dignitary, and they had come to voice their displeasure.
On the other hand, these were the patient and forgiving ones. There were no doubt many Narns who would not even come to complain to him first.
"Silence!" he roared at last. To his surprise, they did fall silent. "I know of your anger, but you are not to assault this Centauri."
"We have Shon'Kar!" cried one of them, near the front. "My father died in his concentration camps at Na'Haminar." "And my sister!" cried another, and soon they were all shouting again.
This time he said nothing, but he did begin to slide his sword from its scabbard. The first glint of its blade and there was an instant hush.
"I know of your Shon'Kar, and I know of those who died in his camps...Quiet! But I know also that you are not to take thie matter into your hands. We are a community here, and this will be dealt with appropriately."
"G'Kar would understand us if he were here!"
"Ah, but G'Kar is not here. And I am. He carries his swords in different places than mine, and his may be more deadly... but my sword can still wound. And my sword is here. I repeat... you will not seek to harm this Centauri."
"You are not G'Kar. He understands."
{{Oh yes,}} Ta'Lon thought to himself. {{G'Kar understands you all too well. As do I.}}
****************
It did not remember the moment of its creation. Its first memory had been the sight of the black, fiery chamber in which it had been given life. Its second memory had been the sight of its masters, and their orders in its mind.
{{Your purpose is to kill}} they had said, and it had obeyed. It had understood.
And now, somehow, its masters had gone, but its mission remained. To kill. Others had come, and they had given it orders. Its purpose was still the same. The target was different. That was all.
It had little need for anything else. Its own mind was focused higher than that of the worthless mind of mortals, but since it was largely mortals it killed, it was... efficient to know how they thought and how they acted.
It had spent a great deal of time in members of a race called the Centauri. It was not to kill them. Its new masters had said as much. It was simply to wait for orders on who to kill. It had spent time studying these... Centauri.
After many months, it had been given an order. To kill. Not a Centauri, but a Minbari. It knew Minbari. It knew them very well. They had a breed called warriors, who fought well. Not as well as it did, of course. The difference was a subtle one, but clear. They fought; it killed.
To its slight disappointment, the target was not a warrior, but one of another breed: a worker. But this worker was special. It was aided by something else. It had information it was not supposed to have. The masters were concerned, and so they had given the order.
But then, there were Centauri along the way too, and they fought.
It had been a long pursuit, from the lands of the Centauri, to another place, and thence to here. It knew this place. Its masters knew this place. They could see it, and commune with it. It was to continue with the hunt, but with care. People here knew of it and its breed. The purpose was still more important than the risk of discovery, but caution had to be taken.
Caution was one thing, but the purpose to kill was another.
The... Centauri leapt in front of it, wielding a long claw in its hand. The Centauri was too slow, its claw was too weak. Moving forward, it grabbed the claw and shattered it with one hand. With the other, it tore through the Centauri's chest.
It was ordered to hide, to move within these mortal hosts, but that was not its purpose. Its purpose was to kill. From its old masters it would have taken such orders, but not from these new ones.
It was here, on this strange and hateful place called Babylon 5, and it would kill.
***************** ACT ONE *****************
Ambassador Sherann liked this place. She liked the stalls, she liked the chatter of the merchants, the gaudy baubles they were selling, the people wandering this way and that, some in silent conteplation, others in rowdy chatter. A few in open argument. Aliens from countless races, all together.
She had learned a number of important lessons since she had arrived on Babylon 5, but one of the most significant, she reasoned, was the wonder humans and Centauri called... shopping.
She paused at a stall selling brooches and jewellery of various kinds. The stall holder was a Brakiri, of their merchant class obviously. He said something about how honoured he was to have such an illustrious patron, she replied with interest about his designs. She walked off with two brooches, trying to affix them to the front of her gown, while he was busily working on a sign that said something along the lines of 'Ambassador Sherann Shops Here.'
"Ambassador," said a friendly voice, and she looked up, smiling when she saw who it was.
"Mister Allan. How are you this day?"
"Ah, fine I guess. Same old same old, you know how it is."
"Are you here for business or pleasure?"
"Business, I'm afraid. One of the Abbai fruitsellers down the other end of the Zocalo tried short changing a Drazi. He started a fight, some of the Abbai's friends joined in, then some Narns came to help out the Drazi... Well, you know how it is."
She smiled. "Indeed. But... is that not one of things about this place? Races come together, talk and eat and... shop together. And yes, they fight together. You said... Narns came to help the Drazi."
"Yeah, four of them. They'd been drinking if you ask me."
"You see, Mister Allan. Narns rushing to help a Drazi. Would that be happening anywhere other than here?"
"I doubt it, and I just hope those Security guys on all the other stations know how lucky they are."
She chuckled. "You protest a little too much. You know the responsibility your job brings, and you welcome it wholeheartedly, without reservation. Such people are honoured and deeply respected among Minbari."
He looked embarrassed, and began tugging at his collar. "Yeah, well...I just...do my job, that's all. Someone's got to do it, after all."
Sherann was about to reply, when she felt a light pull on her sleeve. Turning, she saw a young human woman, very dirty and her clothes in rags. There was a fresh scratch down her cheek, and her hair was filthy and matted with grime.
"Yes?" Sherann asked, puzzled.
"Inesval," the woman croaked. "Inesval..." She looked as though she were about to say something else, when Zack moved forward.
"All right, you," he said firmly. "You were told about harrassing the dignitaries. Come on." He turned to Sherann. "You'd better check your pockets, Ambassador. Make sure nothing's been taken."
"I...No," she replied, not bothering to check. "Who...are you?"
"One of the Lurkers," Zack replied. "Petty thief mostly. She used to bug Ambassador Mollari for money when he was around. He got an order from the Ombudsman keeping her away from him. Guess you forgot it, eh?"
"Inesval...sent me," she rasped. "He..." She tried to step forward, but her legs suddenly gave way, and she collapsed, falling into Sherann's arms.
"Great," muttered Zack to himself. "I can't even get a few lousy minutes to myself. Come on, Ambassador. I guess we'd better get her to MedLab. Sheesh. Someone up there's really got it in for me today."
****************
G'Stral moved through the darkness with an easy grace, confident with a sublime arrogance that there was nothing in DownBelow to harm him. All down here knew him, or knew of him. He was a valuable resource, and sooner or later everyone who needed anything from DownBelow came to him. And he took a substantial fee for helping them find the people they were looking for. They did not have to pay him, of course. There was nothing stopping them wandering around DownBelow forever.
This was hardly the life he had dreamed of, as a child, but it was better than most alternatives, better than had been given to his family after all. He had dreamed before of...well, childish dreams. Fame, glory, leading massive fleets to war, the usual things. Those dreams had died a long time ago, to be replaced by...a casual acceptance of his fate. He was alive, he had somewhere he belonged...that was more than most of his people had.
And somehow, the old dreams were returning. He knew why, and he hated himself for daring to hope again, but Ta'Lon had done that to him, had shown him that there could be another way.
So, he had returned to his spiritual home, the darkness of DownBelow, a place where he was known, and even feared by some. It was good to be feared.
He was just wandering around, lost in his thoughts when he became aware of the body on the floor before him.
That in itself was not entirely unusual. Very few people in DownBelow had much of a life expectancy. Illness was fairly common, and there was always the danger of running into people with big knives and bad tempers, but... As curiosity compelled him to look at the body, he realised two things. First, that the knives would have to have been very big, and the tempers very bad for this much damage.
And second, that the body belonged to a Centauri. Wearing what was presumably the uniform of a House Guard. It was not easy to be certain from the rags that were left, but he had seen uniforms like that a little closer than most people.
Then he saw the badge, a House symbol, worn by those who belonged to the noble in question, every bit as much his property as his sword, his furniture and his wife.
G'Stral knew that symbol all too well. He had worn it for over a year.
The purple throne, a long sword.
He slowly rose, and patted the long knife in his belt reassuringly. He then set off deeper into the darkness, looking for anyone else who might be wearing that symbol. Revenge had been a long time coming, but it was as the preachers had told him in his youth. Everything comes to he who waits.
****************
Vir Cotto -- now, Ambassador Vir Cotto of the great and glorious Centauri Republic -- was not entirely unused to receiving important dignitaries. He had, after all, been attache to Ambassador Mollari -- as he had been then -- for some five years. He had spent a great deal of time in the Royal Court, meeting with Emperors and Ministers. He had been an Ambassador to Minbar for several months. He had dealt on a daily basis with leaders and Ambassadors and representatives from half the races in the galaxy. He had even killed an Emperor.
But none of those people he had met, dealt with, argued with, or...well, killed...had been his father-in-law.
Well, technically, his father-in-law. The marriage was not legally valid...yet...but the arrangement were still on, and matters had not been officially called off. So, in a sense, Lord-General Marrago was his father-in-law, or father-in-law to be, anyway. Well, strictly speaking he was his adopted-father-in-law...No, that didn't make sense. That is to say, he, Lord-General Marrago, was his, Vir's, wife's adopted father.
Trying to speculate on the logistics of this was threatening to give Vir a brain haemorrhage. So he simply gave the Lord-General his cup of brivare and sat down.
"It's an honour to have you here, Lord-General," he said, trying to avoid Marrago's piercing gaze. Vir had heard stories of soldiers who had been reduced to near-suicide just by Marrago staring at them for long enough.
Fortunately, the Lord-General was not staring at Vir. Perhaps he would not need to use his stare. There was a kutari on the wall, in easy reach after all, and Marrago was said to be an excellent swordsman, better by far than Londo had ever been.
"However," Vir continued. "I was not told of your reasons for coming. The...uh...Minister for the Court just said that you had private business. But...um... know that it must have been pretty important for you to come here. You don't exactly have very many friends here."
The Lord-General set his drink down on the table. He had hardly touched it. "I know, Ambassador," he said. "I have very few friends anywhere, and a great many enemies. That is the life I have chosen, a lifetime of service to my Emperor and my Republic. It does not exactly cater for establishing friendships." He paused, and then rose from his seat, walking to the place where the kutari was displayed on the wall. "A fine blade," he said, conversationally. "It belonged to Lord Jaddo, did it not?" Vir stammered something resembling an affirmation. "I knew Urza when we were children. A fine man. He deserved a better fate than he received."
Marrago turned from the wall, his hands folded behind his back. "But to answer your unasked questions, Ambassador, yes, I do have business here, and yes, it is important enough to risk coming here. My Emperor did not give me permission to visit this place, but nor did he deny it to me. He simply told me to do as I saw fit.
"The Emperor is...alone in his Court, surrounded by his potential enemies. He may have cast aside his friends. He may have cast aside me, but I would have remained by his side even had he ordered me to leave. There is only one thing in this entire galaxy that could exert a greater pull on my loyalties than he, may all the Gods cast me down for admitting it.
"Ambassador Cotto, have you seen my daughter recently?"
"Lyndisty? I..." Vir looked up, and he could see the conflict raging in the Lord-General's eyes. Emperor, or daughter? "No, I haven't. Not for a couple of years at least. When...Emperor Cartagia was still alive, and I was on the homeworld. I...meant to meet with her when I was last at the homeworld, just after the bombing, but I was told she had gone to a distant colony. I was...ah...glad she was safe."
"Safe? Safety is a delusion we will not find in this, or any place. I had hoped that by sending her from the homeworld to Immolan, she would be safe, but it appears I was wrong. I have not seen her in the months since we broke away from the Alliance. I...knew then that a darkness was coming, greater even than in the days of Emperor Cartagia. I had no choice. I had to remain on the homeworld and defend my Emperor, but for Lyndisty, there was another way. I sent her to Immolan 5, where her mother has family.
"She never got there."
"I...What? Oh, dear Gods, what happened?"
Marrago was pacing up and down the room, his eyes never falling on one thing. The pain in his voice was apparent. "After the bombing was over, I spent what little free time I had trying to find her. Communications with Immolan were down, and so I was not concerned at first. When they were restored, I learned that she had never arrived there.
"Her shuttle, a simple passenger shuttle had been attacked by Drazi. I had sent her on a passenger flight in the vain hope that no race, not even those with whom we were at war, would attack civilians." He gave a wry chuckle. "It appears the Drazi have learned the lesson I learned from the Narns about the fine line between civilians and soldiers.
"Anyway, the shuttle was damaged, but not destroyed, and it managed to dock at one of our scientific research stations a jump or two from Immolan. Lyndisty had a number of my men with her, to guard her. She could very well have lasted out the war there. Matters had changed greatly by this point, and the Drazi and Narn fleets were concentrated on the homeworld.
"However...something attacked the research station. I had it investigated by some of our soldiers -- thinking it might have been the Drazi, or the Narns. It was not. Those on the station were attacked from inside. There was no damage to the exterior at all, but someone, or something had massacred every living person in that station. Scientists, their guards, the passengers from the downed shuttle."
Vir gasped. "Who would...? Who would do such a thing?"
Marrago shrugged. "There are many possibilities, and few answers. I hoped to find some more here, just as I hoped to find my daughter. You see, her body was not amongst those we found, and a shuttle was missing from the station. Now, it could have been taken by the person or thing that killed the scientists and others, but I hope that it was taken by my daughter and such of my men that survived. Not all of their bodies were found either, you see, and there were some passengers whose remains we could not find.
"If they escaped from the station, then where could they go? Not to the homeworld. They did not go to Immolan. Our other colonies were too much at risk from the war.
"So where else but here, to the arms of her betrothed, a powerful and influential man, whom even our enemies respect?
"And so, to my original question, Ambassador? Is she here?"
"I...oh, dear. I don't know. I haven't seen her. I haven't seen her name come up on the lists of our people who visit here. But...I don't know how she may have tried to get in contact with me. I...had to move quarters you see, during the war. She only knew where the old rooms were and Londo's old rooms. She would have no way of knowing I was here."
"May I see these lists of visitors?"
"Certainly, they're...um...around here somewhere." Vir looked at the mass of papers and records on his desk, and he winced softly. "Ahhh, excuse the mess."
Marrago said nothing, gave no rebuke. Some minutes later, Vir found the data crystal he had been looking for, and brought the list of names up on a screen. Marrago scanned through the dates, and then the names, and stopped on one.
"There. That will be her."
"Really? Elyssa, of House Pyrites? You think so?"
"I know so. Bring up the other details." Vir did so, revealing a picture of a woman who... well, who could to think of it, might have been Lyndisty. At least, might have been her if she had been without cosmetics for several weeks, had been tired and weary and... hurt.
"Some time ago, I fashioned a number of false identities for my daughter," Marrago said, with a soft smile. "You never know when such a thing might be useful, and announcing my name to the customs officials would not have been safe for her. Is she still on board?"
"Yes," Vir said, checking the details. "She came on board... two weeks after the bombing. I guess she hadn't the news. She hasn't left yet. No record of where she's been staying. No information at all."
"I see. Well, Ambassador Cotto, at least we have found her. She is on this station, and I will not rest until I am sure she is safe. I thank you for your assistance."
"I can help more. I mean... I want her safe just as much as you do."
Marrago smiled, and nodded. "You know, the marriage between you and her was arranged by my wife, the Lady Drusilla. She has an eye for those who are soon to be rich and powerful. I was not so sure. I knew and trusted Londo, and he certainly seemed to value your skills, but I had heard other stories. Ultimately, I placed the matter in my daughter's hands, willing to trust to her heart, and her senses. Privately, however, I still doubted.
"I doubt no longer. You are a fit match for my daughter, Ambassador Cotto, if the both of you still wish it."
He then turned and left the room. Vir was speechless.
****************
Ta'Lon had very conspicuously stayed well away from anywhere the Lord-General Marrago was likely to be, acting in the vain hope that his people might do the same. He wasn't sure if his pleas for calm had succeeded or not, but at least he had not heard anything yet, which was a good sign.
The slight downside to this plan was that he had been in his quarters all day, wandering around, irritated and trying to fill the time. He had dealt with some long-overdue paperwork, read several passages of the Book of G'Kar, practiced his positions with the katok (making sure to draw blood with the blade before sheathing it) and received a number of audiences with people who were, in the large scheme of things, not important, but very much wished to be so.
The subject of Lord-General Marrago was not raised by anyone, and Ta'Lon had had time to think about what the Centauri's presence here meant.
He had served during the war until his injuries sustained during his capture by the Streibs had incapacitated him, and he had certainly heard of the Lord-General. WarLeader G'Sten claimed even to have met him once, although he had been very drunk at the time, and so might have been lying.
Ta'Lon had also heard of the 'genetic cleansing' carried out on the captured colonies Marrago had administered. He had spoken to a few of the survivors, and had learned something very interesting, that few other people had worked out.
Marrago's rule had been marked by a complete and utter obedience to the rules of the Occupation. Any resistance member caught was interrogated, tortured and executed. Anyone suspected of being an ally of the resistance, or of having the potential to be so was dealt with.
And yet, Marrago had provided food, medical equipment and security when needed. He and his soldiers had hunted those the bandit gangs who had preyed on the devastated villages. He had strongly discouraged casual sadism and cruelty amongst his men and had even, it was rumoured, dismissed a soldier for making a drunken bet over how many Narns he could hang in a day.
A strange accumulation of facts, and ones Ta'Lon would no doubt not be able to form into a complete whole until he had actually met the man in question, something he was very loth to do. He was truly afraid he might even like him.
Where was G'Kar when he was needed? This was a problem for him, no doubt about it.
The vidscreen made the horrible noise it always made when indicating a message was coming, and Ta'Lon went to it, half-dreading that one of his people here had launched an attack on the Lord-General.
It was to be nothing so welcoming.
"Councillor G'kael," he said formally. "It is an honour."
The Councillor nodded. "It is long past time we spoke, Ambassador, and it is a shame that it has taken recent... events to bring this about."
"I know how busy the kHa'Ri have been, Councillor. And I have heard...stories about events on the homeworld."
"Word of G'Kar's disappearance has not been received well. There have been some riots in the streets. Serious, yes, but they have been dealt with, we hope. Unfortunately, they have delayed us from formally recognising your position here, an oversight we now mean to correct."
"There have been no problems with my appointment, then?" It had been less than protocol. Ambassadors usually had the right to recommend those who would follow them when they moved on, but the final say always belonged with the kHa'Ri.
"None, as G'Kar would no doubt well know. If word were to leak that we had refused one of his last wishes before leaving, then well... You could understand the situation. Not that there was any need to, of course. Your name had been raised in the matter of G'Kar's replacement long before his recent... loss to us. This was of course when we were hoping he would come here."
"I am glad the kHa'Ri have such faith in me," Ta'Lon replied smoothly. "Now, if the honoured Councillor will tell me what he has been avoiding since he began this conversation, my happiness will be complete."
G'kael did not laugh, although it looked for a moment as if he might. "Ah, Ta'Lon, it seems my position here on the kHa'Ri might be in jeopardy in a few years. I shall have to be even more careful than I am at present.
"But yes, there is something else. It concerns the presence on Babylon 5 of the war criminal Marrago."
"I... suspected as much."
"Yes, some of the kHa'Ri have... doubted your resolve with the Centauri, but not I. You fought them as well and as bravely as anyone, and you did well to calm down our people on Babylon 5. This thing must be done properly, as the humans say, by the book.
"We have officially contacted the Alliance HeadQuarters on Minbari, stating our aims. We have privately sounded out some of the representatives of the other races. The Drazi in particular will support us in this application. Our two Governments have been quite...friendly since our alliance to attack the Centauri.
"A problem, of course lies in the fact that the Centauri will no doubt be making a number of legal objections to our claim, and their...lawyers, a truly strange concept if ever there was one, but there you go. Their lawyers will attempt to block our application.
"Still, we are confident of success in this. You, Ambassador, must approach Captain... Lochley, and Ambassador Vir Cotto. Then, a full assemblage of the dignitaries on Babylon 5 must be convened. We do not want anyone believing we are hiding anything from them.
"This is important, Ambassador, to the kHa'ri and to the nation as a whole. If we can succeed in this, then the benefits will be immeasurable. And a great deal of the burden must fall on you.
"Ambassador, you must arrange for Lord-General Marrago to be detained on Babylon 5, awaiting extradition for war crimes against the Narn people."
****************
Sherann looked at the pitiful figure in the bed before her, and her mind was cast back years. Inesval. She was sure that was what the woman had said, but how could she know that name?
It had been more than three years since Sherann had last seen Inesval, since he had chosen to embark upon his great quest to the stars. He wanted to see the galaxy, to gaze upon new and fascinating worlds, to look in wonder at sites of beauty he could never have imagined.
The two of them had been good friends ever since childhood. He had spoken to her many times of his grand dreams and hopes. She had listened, and laughed, and promised to be by his side throughout his travels...but that had been when they had both been young. The burdens of responsibility and duty had come to weigh on them both too heavily. They were both Worker Caste, after all, and it had always been the duty of the Worker Caste to build.
It had been a chance encounter that had done it for Inesval. He had met Jeffrey Sinclair, the human who had been appointed Ambassador to Minbar, and later, the Anla'Shok Na and Entil'zha. Sinclair had spoken to Inesval, and his words had reached him in some fundamental way. After Sinclair's...disappearance, Inesval had come to her, and told her that he was going to leave Minbar, as he had always wished to do. He was going to travel, and he wanted her to go with him.
There had been a reason why she had refused, but she was unable to remember it now. The burdens of duty, perhaps? Her burgeoning hopes for power, her recognition that she could soon reach a position where she would be able to make a difference? Whatever her reasoning, she had stayed, and he had gone, and she had not heard from him since.
But he had seldom been far from her thoughts.
The young human woman was stirring slightly, and Sherann started. There was a considerable amount of wires and tubes and machinery hooked up to her. It looked... troubling.
"Ah, Ambassador," said a voice from behind her, and she turned. "Taking an interest in our latest arrival. Zack told me you were there when she was brought in." It was Doctor Hobbs, the head of MedLab. Sherann did not know the Doctor as well as she wished to, but she knew enough to trust her.
"Yes, I was. What... How is she?"
"Recovering, thankfully. There's only so much we can really do in cases like hers. She has a fairly major case of malnutrition, various minor abrasions, a severe case of shock and she looks to be coming down with Banta flu." Doctor Hobbs shook her head sadly. "We can do something about all those things, but we can't get to the root of the problem. As soon as we let her out of her, she's just going to go back DownBelow, and then in another fortnight, or month, or year, she'll just be back here again." She sighed. "Or in the morgue."
"Matters are that bad?" Sherann whispered, horrified. She had never really seen the problem before.
Doctor Hobbs laughed, in a blatant effort to lighten the mood. Her laughter ended on a false note. "Ah, I'm sorry, Ambassador. I'm just coming off a thirty-six hour shift, and that tends to make me a little maudlin at times. It could be a lot worse. At least we can do something about her condition."
The Lurker seemed to be waking up. Her eyes were twitching.
"What is her name?" Sherann asked.
"Security records have her down as Jane Doe. A false name, of course, but she has no identicard, and she answers to it, so..." Doctor Hobbs shrugged.
"May I speak with her?"
"Of course. Don't expect much of a conversation, though. She's exhausted." The doctor's Link suddenly beeped. "Oh... great. I'm sorry, Ambassador, I've got to go. There's a delicate operation going on in MedLab 2, and I told them to beep me if they need my help. I'll see you later."
Sherann slowly approached the bed, and looked down at the young woman there. She was awake now, and looked frightened. "You're safe here," Sherann whispered. "There's nothing to be afraid of."
"No," came a terrified reply. "None of us are safe. Not while it's still there. It's...hunting us. It's hunting him."
"Who? What's hunting who?"
"Inesval...He told me to come and find you. He said you could help. Help... all of us."
"Inesval. Where is he?"
"Grey sector. He's...trying to find somewhere safe from it. He was going to move into Grey 17...that's what he said. He said you could help."
"I will do what I can," Sherann replied. "I promise you. What is hunting you?"
"His friends there...They're dead now. Just the...just the Centauri woman left now...It killed them all..." Her eyes...Sherann had seen that look of abject terror before. "It killed them all. I heard it...in my mind...It was...terrible..."
"What?" Sherann asked again. "What is hunting you?"
There was no reply. The woman had fAllan asleep again.
Sherann breathed out slowly, and turned away. The Lurker... Jane Doe? She would be fine here, but Inesval was not. He was in danger, and she had to help him. She knew where to go, and what to do.
***************** ACT TWO *****************
"She will come."
There was a cough, and the splutter of blood. She gently touched his mouth with the damp cloth, uncomfortably aware of how dirty it was.
"She will come."
"It has been so long," she replied. "Anything could have happened to her."
"No," he tried to explain, wincing as he shifted his position on the floor. "Sherann. She will come. Once she... hears. She will come."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I know."
There was a roar, an unmistakable sound of triumph and victory. There was a brief scream, the sound of a thud against the wall, and then a silence.
"It is coming for us."
"I know," he replied. "We must go deeper."
"You shouldn't move."
"We must go deeper. All we need do is hide... and wait. She will come."
"How do you even know your message got through?"
"I know. We know."
His voice was changing again, and she repressed a shudder of fear. She had always known she was different from most of her contemporaries, and in truth she was. She had seen a great many things, and there was little that scared her. She had, in the past few months, been able to add two details to the small list of things which did scare her.
The beast that was hunting him, and the chilling loss of identity as his voice changed mid way through a sentence.
"Deeper," he said, in the voice that was not his.
"Come on," she said, rising and brushing as much of the dirt as she could from her dress. She helped him rise, and winced as she had to support his weight. "We'll go as far in as we can."
"Are you all right?" he asked, in his voice again. Not... the other one. "You...You look pained."
"I'm fine," she whispered, realising that most of her own wounds were probably bursting open again. They had never been able to heal properly.
"I'm fine," she repeated. "It's not..."
****************
"Um... not as bad as it looks. I discussed things with some of our lawyers here, and at home. They said a lot of things. I didn't really understand most of them. They seemed to enjoy words a fair bet. Well, they're probably being paid by the letter, and there might be some sort of intellectual satisfaction in coming up with the most long-winded way to say something incredibly simple. Maybe they have a little competition or something going on."
He was listening, although it might not have looked like it. He was thinking of home. He was thinking of Lyndisty.
"Anyway...the bulk of their charges against you are...we think...just them being a little, ah, opportunistic. That's the Narns and Drazi, I mean. I'm not saying the lawyers are being opportunistic." A pause. "They probably are, though. I'm dreading the bill, to say the least, but...hah hah, that's what expense accounts are for, I guess.
"Anyway, there are some one hundred and forty-three counts of genocide and executions without trial, contrary to...ah...some treaty or other. They are the ones that took place at the captured colonies of...Hold on a minute." He was flipping through several pieces of paper. "Ah yes, the colonies at Dros 4, Shi Prime and the G'Khorazhar and Na'Haminar Provinces on the Narn homeworld itself.
"There are also claims that you were involved with the attacks on the Alliance ships, and um...that you were in breach of some other treaty in using forbidden mass drivers on the Narn homeworld."
Marrago still did not say anything. The image of the Narn homeworld was burning in his mind. The sight of it there, helpless as he ordered giant rocks thrown at it. He had walked among the ruined cities afterward, and seen the dead, the dying and the injured. And all the while his mind had been on logistics and tactics and deployment.
"Our, um, lawyers are under the impression that most of the charges can be evaded very easily. There is no actual proof that you were involved with the attacks on the Alliance shipping lines."
"I was not." They were the first words he had spoken since Vir had told him what was happening.
The Ambassador seemed a little shaken by this, but he soon returned to his impressively large pile of paper. "And as for the...uh...executions and genocide on the Narn worlds, they were...carried out under the terms of the surrender agreement, accepted and authorised...um...on...this...station." There was another pause. Vir seemed to be shaking. He was dropping some of his papers. "Therefore neither you nor...any other member of the Centauri government...or military...can be properly tried for...actions carried out under that surrender agreement.
"The only real issue, therefore is...uh...the mass drivers. Our lawyers were convinced they can get around that easily enough. A little...diplomacy..."
"Has the Emperor been informed of this?"
Vir started. "Ah...yes. Yes, he has. I told him myself."
"What did he say?"
"He...um...he said...It didn't really matter what he said..."
"What did he say?"
Vir bowed his head. "He said that he would not...waste his...time...on this matter. He was too...busy..."
"I see." Marrago rose to his feet. His head was remarkably clear now. "I see."
"He's just overworked, that's all. A very busy man, and you know how power can...change some people. He's probably working on some scheme or another right now, I'd bet."
"Do not lie to me. Please. I have known Londo since before you were born, and I dedicated my life to serving the Republic and the Emperor as soon as I was old enough to walk. He is my Emperor and his actions and decisions are not mine to question."
"He's discarding you. He's...just throwing you aside like you don't matter any more. I mean, I'd like to think I used to know him pretty well, but I'd never have thought he could turn on his oldest friend like that."
"He is my Emperor, and it is his right to do so." He paused, and looked at the Jaddo House kutari. "What do you think, Vir?"
"About what?"
"The crimes I am charged with."
"Oh. I...uh...I think we'll be able to get you off them. There's all sorts of diplomatic issues. Technically, we're not even a part of the Alliance any more, so we have no extradition treaties at the moment. To be honest, I think the Narns are just pushing their luck...Um..."
"No. Do you think I deserve to 'get off them'?"
"I...It's not for me to..."
"The truth."
"No," he bowed his head. "I'm sorry. I don't. You did terrible, terrible things and...I can't see how I can forgive you for them."
"Ah." He was still looking at the sword. "Thank you for your honesty. And for your conviction. Yes, I have done terrible things, but it was all in the name of the Republic, and the Emperor. I was charged with governing those colonies to the fullest of my abilities, and I did so. I obeyed the will of my Emperor."
"But...You were Lord-General and Commander of the Armies. I...We...always thought you went there because...you wanted...to..."
"No. Emperor Cartagia did not want me at the Court. He sent me to govern our captured holdings, and so I did so. And I did all that was necessary to hold them in his name. That included mass murder, execution without trial...countless things no one else knows of, but which will remain with me forever.
"And I took Lyndisty there also.
"You knew she had a part in my...actions?"
"Yes. She...told me." There was a pause, but Vir continued, aware that Marrago was seeking something a little more. "I didn't know what to think. She thought the Narns were...animals. They're not. I've known many of them. Not exactly...um...patient people, no. For the most part. And their personal hygiene is not always...but that doesn't mean they're inferior to us. Just different."
"I never believed them to be inferior to us. On the contrary, I always gave them the highest respect. But I fear, Lyndisty learned some unfortunate lessons that I failed to correct for her. I saw what she was beginning to believe about them, and...and I did nothing. She is my daughter, and perfect in every way to my eyes. I suppose I should have tried to correct some of her...errors in judgment, but I could not bring myself to do so."
There was a long silence. Finally, Marrago spoke again. "What do our lawyers recommend we do?"
"Ah, well...They were going to check up on some old cases and treaties and some such...which is probably an excuse to get more money out of us...I'm expecting a call back later today, and there's going to be another Council meeting tomorrow morning, when I'm going to present a formal response to the petition.
"But...most of them seemed to think that if you agreed to leave the station, return to Centauri Prime and agree not to leave Centauri space again...all the charges could be dropped. It's some sort of plea bargaining or something."
"Leave this place?"
"Uh...yes."
"For good?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Ye...uh, what?"
"My daughter is here. I will find her, and I will not leave until I have done so."
"But..."
"I will find her. Have there been any restrictions placed on my movements?"
"No. That might become an issue tomorrow, but for now the Council is still considering the petition, and matters are on hold until I can get back to them. Uh... but after what happened earlier, do you really...?"
"I will go for a walk. Contact me when you have found out more on Lyndisty."
"Yes...Uh, Lord-General." Marrago, who was nearly at the door stopped. "You must love her very much to want to risk everything for her."
"Yes," he said softly. "I do." And with that, he was gone.
****************
There were bodies everywhere, and most of them were not Centauri. G'Stral recognised some of them, by sight at least, although he could not name any of them. They were just...people. Lurkers, people without names, identities, purpose.
Just people.
For the most part he hadn't been bothered by any of these people before. Yeah, okay, their lives were hard here. They'd come here seeking...something or other, and now they were trapped here, living off begging or scrounging or doing whatever degrading and menial work they could find. Yeah, that was bad, but he'd never really cared for them much before.
Their lives were hard, but at least they had never had to watch while their families and friends were taken away in the night, never to be seen again. They had free choice at least, they hadn't been made slaves. They hadn't had to belong to someone else. They were alive, and free.
But this...As he looked at the bodies he began to feel a slow, simmering anger. These bodies had been torn apart, hideously mangled so that only with the greatest study could it even be possible to work out what races these people had been.
And so he went on, moving deeper and darker into DownBelow, into areas of the station not even he hd visited. There had never really been any reason to come here, leaving aside the rumours of ghosts and hauntings and unexplained deaths. Just foolish ghost stories of course. He had stopped believing in them when he had been a child.
No one cared. That had been the thing. No one cared about these people. If a massacre like this had been taking place up above, in the Zocalo, or the diplomatic quarters or the posh residential areas then Security would have been there in a flash, but down here...
No one cared. He knew what it was like to have no one care. To be alone, completely and utterly alone.
That would not happen here. Somebody had to do something here. And it might as well be him.
There were sounds coming from the corridor just before him. He slowly edged his way towards them, hearing the scuffling of feet, and cries of pain. He peeked slowly around the corner.
There was a Centauri there, one of House Marrago's guards. He seemed to be fighting...nothing. There was the faintest trace of a heat blur, but nothing else.
For some reason the Centauri was using a sword, and then G'Stral saw a discarded hand held ion gun just in front of him. Not taking his eyes off the peculiar dance the Centauri was making, he bent down and picked up the gun. It had been crushed, rendered completely useless.
G'stral did not want to think of the strength it would take anyone to do that, assuming it had been done by bare hands. He certainly couldn't have done it. He didn't know any race that could. Even a Drazi would have problems.
The Centauri seemed to get in a lucky shot, as his sword pierced...something. He suddenly fell backwards, blood streaming from his arm. The sword, which seemed to be floating in mid air, was pulled out and held up. There was a faint gesture of a hand closing, and then the blade snapped.
The Centauri at last decided to run for it, probably too late, but then the Centauri never did know when to leave anything alone. He had made all of three steps in G'Stral's direction before the...something caught him. He stiffened, his arm caught behind him. G'Stral watched in mute horror, hearing the crack of bone and the pitiful cry of them Centauri as his arm was wrenched from his body. The Centauri fell, mercifully unconscious.
What was that thing? G'Stral strained to make it out, but he could see nothing more than a faint blur of haze. There was a triumphant roar, which seemed to reverberate inside his mind, and he dropped to his knees in pain. Looking up, he saw it shimmer and become visible.
A vague, long-abandoned memory sprung to mind, and he tried to resist the natural response that this was impossible. They were meant to be gone from this galaxy, gone beyond the Rim.
He remembered a few brief months as a child, before the Centauri had come. He had been visiting an old priest, who had been anxious to teach the young man something of his wisdom. G'Stral must have read the Book of G'Quan six times, back to front. He had believed in it in those days.
There had been a passage in it, of the time G'Quan and his allies had fought the alien Darkness the Minbari had called the Shadows. These...Shadows had set their servants to roam the countryside, to kill and destroy. There had been a drawing of one of these dark warriors...
It was the beast before him.
They were meant to be gone.
The beast suddenly looked up, and there was a whisper, a soft rustle of wind. It sang in his mind. {{Run, childling}} said a voice as alien as anything he had ever heard. {{Run so you may be hunted}}
He didn't need any encouragement. any foolish hopes of trying to fight this thing had evaporated the instant he had realised what it was. He turned and ran, daring to hope that he could outpace it. He had been able to outrun a lot of Centauri during the Occupation, and a fair few other races here as well. There had, sad to say, been a fair few unsatisfied customers he had needed to flee from, from time to time.
He could do it. He could get to safety. He could.
Something burst in his back and he went down. Darkness took him before he hit the floor.
****************
Captain Lochley was not having a good day. This was not unusual, and nor was there anything especially not good in her not good day. It was almost comforting to know that, as not-good days went, this was no less-good than most others.
Actually, as she thought about it, this had been the first excessively major crisis to hit the station since...well, the incident where Ambassador Cotto's data crystal had been stolen. And then there had been the problem with the missing White Star, and various other minor concerns in the meantime.
One thing she had to admit she was glad of was that there was someone higher to deal with this big problem. Diplomats, Ambassadors and lawyers from the Centauri Republic and the Narn Regime were busily thrashing things out at Tuzanor, and planning to direct all their findings here. All she had to do was ensure all the relevant embassies here were kept informed, and stop any of the principle parties from killing each other.
So, not a good day, but no worse than any other.
She had decided this was the perfect opportunity to take up a piece of advice David had given her. When Commander Sinclair had gotten a little stressed or annoyed, or just snowed under by the weight of things, he had gone up to the observation bay and looked at the ships and stars for a while. Apparently that had helped him a little. She was not entirely sure that approach would work for her, but it was worth a try.
She was somewhat surprised to see someone already there. Three someones in fact, but the two Centauri guards were not much for conversation. They seemed to recognise who she was, and then stood aside to let her pass. Their Lord and Commander was already there, staring out into deep space. He didn't look too happy either.
She paused to look at him for a moment, and was struck by the sheer weight he seemed to be carrying. He looked so much older than he truly was. There was still the strength of bearing that she had noticed earlier, as well as the presence of the man, but it was all fading. He reminded her of...of an old stag, wounded and scarred and hunted by wolves, ready to choose a point of high ground and wait for them to come to him.
"Captain," he said formally, turning around. "I apologise. I did not see you there."
"Oh, that's fine, Lord-General," she replied. She moved forward and joined him at the window. "A beautiful sight out there, isn't it?"
"I suppose it might be. I've never been able to appreciate beauty in the skies a great deal. All I see is new worlds to conquer, new battles to fight...a neverending lifetime of duty to the Republic."
"A military life."
"More than just the military, but yes, there is that. I was raised according to the old ways of the Centauri nobility, beliefs sadly now fading from us all. Duty...and responsibility. We have the power in our society, great power, but it falls upon us to exercise that power with responsibility. We, the nobles, owe a duty to serve the Republic and the Emperor, and the Emperor owes a duty to protect and nurture us."
He shook his head sadly. "Old ways. Old times. I sometimes feel I am the last who still believes that. One lone voice of the way things used to be. Before Cartagia, before Narn, before the bombing,"
He fell silent, still staring out into space. She did not say anything, because she couldn't think of anything to say. She had heard of the things this man had done, and she had listened to reports of evidence of sickening acts committed upon the people of the worlds he was governing.
And yet it seemed impossible to reconcile the monster the Narns saw with the sad, despairing man of duty she saw before her. He reminded her uncomfortably of her father.
"What do you want, Captain?" he asked suddenly, and she started. She had heard of the significance of that question from Sheridan and Delenn and others. He looked at her, and she caught the authority in his eyes. So much like her father. She did not know what to answer, but the lure of a lifetime of recognising authority compelled her to speak in some way.
"I don't know. To...do the best I can, to serve my Government, to...to make a difference. No more than the rest of us, I suppose."
"Ah." He nodded, and seemed satisfied. "I was asked that question by one of your people some years ago, a few days before Emperor Cartagia died. He was a strange person, and it was a strange conversation. I have never been able to forget it, and I always wondered just how different things might have been had I answered differently." He paused.
"And...what did you say?" she asked, unable to resist her curiosity.
A soft smile, of remembered -- or desired -- happiness. "I told him I wanted to sit in my garden and watch it grow and bloom. I wanted to watch my daughter be happy and marry well. I wanted to play with my grandsons, and teach them all the things I was taught, all the old ways...of duty, and honour and loyalty. I wanted to sit in my garden and serve my Republic, and to forget...the things I have done in that duty."
"Ah," she said. "Your actions during the war? I suppose Ambassador Cotto has told you about the petition from the Narn Government."
"He has. A fine young man. I see...a tiny glimmer of hope perhaps, in men such as him. I wish there were more." He turned and looked at her, and his eyes were strong, a single burst of defiance. "I do not apologise for what I did."
"I'm not the one you should be apologising to."
"I had a duty to perform, and I performed it to the best to my abilities. To do anything less would be a betrayal of my Republic, and my Emperor. I secured the captured colonies, and did my best to end resistance on them."
"To end resistance? I can understand a military campaign against an armed resistance. I don't like it, but I can at least understand it...But you executed children, the elderly, the infirm. You destroyed whole villages!"
"Captain, you have obviously never governed a Narn colony. I do not mean to criticise your viewpoint, because I understand it all too well. But the fact is that there is no such thing as an innocent, harmless civilian on a captured Narn world.
"The little child you see on the corner of the street, playing some harmless child's game with a stick and ball. He will watch as your soldiers march by on patrol, and then he will run to his father and tell him everything he has seen. His father will then set an ambush that will kill every one of those soldiers.
"The old woman, peddling her hedge charms and herbs and medicines. She will take in those my soldiers have wounded. She will heal them, and set them free to kill more of my people.
"The old man, a crippled veteran of former wars sitting outside his front door, reminiscing about times of old, just as I am to you now. He will speak to the younger men, he will share his experience, all the knowledge acquired in a lifetime of war. And they will use that to kill and destroy.
"Captain, there is no such thing as an innocent civilian."
"That still doesn't...You could have refused."
"Refuse? To fulfill my duty to my Republic. I would have sooner cut away my own arm than do that. And I note that you did not refuse to serve your Government simply because you were given orders that you felt were wrong."
"That's...that's completely different. I never killed innocent civilians."
"And nor did I."
"I don't think that argument holds any water at all...but it's not for me to say. It's all out of my hands when the Alliance Council comes to a decision, and there's nothing I can do about it. Goodnight, Lord-General."
She turned to leave, only to stop when he began to speak again. "Captain... I cannot find the stars beautiful, but then I have only ever found two things beautiful in the entirety of my life: my garden, and my daughter. My garden was destroyed utterly, beyond even the skill of the best gardener to repair.
"I will not let my daughter suffer the same fate."
Lochley left, noting that her headache was getting worse. So much for the observation bay relaxing her.
****************
It was the Security who found G'Stral first. A maintenance worker had discovered the body of a Centauri guardsman deep within Grey sector, in an area usually reserved for storage, but often used as a place of refuge by Lurkers. It was not usually a place where Centauri House Guards could be found.
While investigating this, one of the Security officers located a blood trail and followed it for over ten minutes before he came across the prone body of a young Narn. As the Security officer bent down to look at the body, G'Stral turned and snarled at him. The great strength and resilience that had guided him through bloody war and the loss of all he had held dear had enabled him to crawl this far from the site of his injuries.They were with him still, and he was determined not to give way to death without a fightr. His life may not be worth much to anyone else these days, but it was all he had left, and he would be more than willing to fight for it.
He was promptly sent to MedLab, and Zack Allan sent a message to Ambassador Ta'Lon. After looking at the body of the Centauri, and learning that his officers had uncovered another two at least spread throughout DownBelow, he had also sent a message to Ambassador Cotto.
While the Security were busily finding bodies to the left and to the right, Ambassador Sherann arrived, following the somewhat confused directions she had been given, knowing that her friend was here.
One Security officer found herself a little too close to comfort with the orchestrator of these killings. She remembered hearing a roar from behind her, a harsh, crackling voice that spoke in her mind, and then there had been a sickening thud as her body was dashed against the wall. Doctor Hobbs, whose shift was now approaching forty hours, found that she was lucky to be alive, and as it was, she would not be able to return to duty for several weeks at least. G'Stral's injuries were less serious, or maybe he was just more inured to pain.
The Shadow Warrior could hear the voice of its new masters. It was not to waste so much time on trivial pursuits. Its prey was nearby, and was now almost devoid of guardians. It had to find the prey before the masters of this place discovered its presence.
Both Inesval and Lyndisty had disappeared from mortal eyes.
***************** ACT THREE *****************
"We cannot run any farther," she whispered. "You can't...You need to rest." Lyndisty did not mention that she needed to rest also. She was exhausted, and she could feel her clothes damp with her own blood. She looked around, wondering if there was anything here that could be used as a bed for Inesval. She could not find anything.
"This body will...last a little longer," he replied. "Just long enough for Sherann to come."
Lyndisty was certain by now that Sherann would not come. No more than would Vir. She had had dreams of him rushing up to rescue her, fighting off the beast that was hunting them and rushing to her side...He would not come.
She had thought she would be able to find him easily enough on her arrival in the station. She had gone to his quarters only to find them locked, and heavily guarded. He was nowhere in sight. Everywhere she had gone, she had found Narns and Drazi and Brakiri, each one looking at her.
That had been the only time she had dared travel up to Green sector. After that, she and Inesval had rented a room, the cheapest they could find. He had been ill, and wary of approaching the doctors. He had seemed convinced that he would recover soon enough.
A few of her father's men had survived the...massacre at the research station. They had sworn their lives to protect her, and they had tried to do so. Against belligerent Drazi or vengeful Narns or petty criminals they could do so, but against the beast that could turn invisible and who spoke with a soft scream inside her mind...
Against that thing all they could do was die, and all Lyndisty and Inesval could do was flee and hide.
But they had fled as far as they could, and there were no more hiding places.
Lyndisty looked at Inesval. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be meditating. It was not coming easily to him, and no wonder. He was wounded, badly so.
He was the first Minbari she had ever really known. She had met a few others, dignitaries or Ambassadors or merchants, and she had made the acquaintance of a keela poet during a tour he had made of the capital some years back, but that had been it. Minbari had never been common on Centauri Prime, or on any of the other worlds she had visited.
Her interest had been piqued at the sight of Inesval on the passenger ship carrying her and her guards from the homeworld to Immolan. She had tried to start up a conversation, only to discover he was strange even for a Minbari. He reminded her of Vir in some ways, and of her father in others.
Then the Drazi had come, and after them the beast.
It was hunting Inesval, and he had known what it was. He could see it somehow, when no one else could. In a voice that was not his own, he had called it 'Darkness made flesh, a long-forgotten legacy of hatred and chaos, a bid to destroy all that is not of its masters.'
They had fled again, to here, to Vir. Only he had not been able to grant her protection.
Lyndisty knew she was going to die. She had seen this beast, and she knew she could not oppose it. Her father had taught her how to defend herself, and she could hold off a fully armed Narn warrior in single combat, but this monstrosity...It was a force of nature.
She looked at Inesval again. She had once asked him why the beast was hunting him. She would never forget his reply, again in the voice that was not his.
"I am knowledge, a repository of sights and images millennia old. The death of a flamebird on Orion 7, a floating city five miles high, the bringing of light to the darkness. I once saw the Cathedral of the Soul Hunters rising in the skies and obscuring the stars. I have spoken to their Well of Souls.
"We are knowledge. We are the keepers of the past, the present and the future. It is hatred and death, and the destruction of knowledge. It was created to destroy all that was not of its masters, just as we were created to preserve all that was not of ourselves."
Lyndisty had not understood that then, and she still did not. She had heard of the Cathedral of the Soul Hunters, but only as a legend and myth, and of the Well of Souls, she knew not even that. Flamebirds had been extinct for centuries, and surely there was no such thing as a floating city?
He had then turned to her, and asked her a simple question. "Why are you here? The beast is hunting me, not you."
She had not known then, and she still did not know now. She knew only that her father had always taught her to do what was right, and Vir had shown her that what was right was not always what other people said was right.
She was brought abruptly back to the present by the sound of a roar. "It's here," she whispered, trying to quench her fear.
"No," Inesval said, in his own voice. "It is trying to make us afraid, so that we run into its path. We have...some time. Enough time for...her...to come."
"She will not come for us."
"She will," he replied. His eyes betrayed his own fear. "She will."
****************
"You know him?"
Marrago nodded, sadly as he looked at the body before him. "Guardsman-Captain Kerrick," he said. "He has been in my House Guard for... over six years now. I recruited him from the Palace Guard."
"He was...one of your servants?"
Marrago looked up at Zack Allan. He did not know the man at all, but he knew the type. Had this...Allan been born Centauri he would be in one of the House Guards, or the Palace Guard, fulfilling much the same role as he was now. Some people simply had a niche and filled it to the best of their abilities.
"One of my soldiers, yes." He had a wife and son back on the homeworld. His daughter had been killed in the bombing. She had been less than a year old.
"Then perhaps you can explain what he was doing in DownBelow. Because not only was he carrying an impressive looking sword, in clear violation of our weapons regulations, our customs records show no sign of his ever having come on board."
"I have heard it said that all things are possible for those with money," Marrago remarked.
Zack chuckled. "Yeah, I heard that too. I would still like some form of information from you. I could of course just keep you locked up until you come clean...but that's a clear breach of various diplomatic immunities and so forth, and that would make Vir kind of mad at me. So, in the interests of giving me an easier day, how about throwing me a line here?"
"He was one of a group of my soldiers I sent to guard my daughter," Marrago admitted. "I hoped to get here to safety on a distant colony. She wound up here instead, and it would seem that she brought her bodyguards with her."
"So how did he get here without going through customs?"
"My daughter is a very resourceful woman," Marrago said with just a hint of pride. "I imagine she found a way. I understand that many things are possible if one is willing to pay."
"Yeah... probably got them smuggled in with the cargo cases or something. Geez..." He paused. "Your daughter. That would be...Lyndisty, right? Vir's... wife. Unless you have another daughter?"
"No, just the one. Yes, Lyndisty."
"Now hold on a minute. I remember the last time she was here. That wasn't exactly what you'd call a barrel of laughs. She's one person I'd keep a special eye out for. I don't remember her coming on board."
Marrago smiled. "As I said... she is a very resourceful woman."
"Oh, man! What...can anyone just walk right in? And where is she now then? Off getting attacked by three million Narns again?"
Marrago's smile faded. "That, Mister Allan...that is precisely the question I want answered."
"Yeah, well good luck. Because we've found three Centauri bodies down there, all dressed like this one, but this was the only one in decent enough condition to be identified. Now, it's quite likely there's more. Whatever it is down there killing people, it doesn't seem to like Centauri very much. It's possible it's already found your daughter."
"I will not let that happen, Mister Allan. Where exactly were these bodies found?"
"Uh uh. If you think I'm letting you run around DownBelow looking for this thing and getting in the way of my investigation, you've got another thought coming. You are going to stay right up here where it's safe, because you're in enough trouble as it is without going hunting some crazy monster."
Marrago nodded slowly. "You are quite right, Mister Allan." He left the room slowly, his mind on other things. He knew precisely whom to visit for information. If he would be able to gain any.
****************
Sherann had had some considerable experience with aliens before coming to Babylon 5, probably one of the major reasons for her getting the appointment in the first place. She could speak most of the languages of the major powers, and was always interested in gaining a greater mastery over the subtle and varied aspects of culture and language.
To further her experience in such areas she had made a point of meeting as many members of other races as she could. She had been able to befriend Ambassador Cotto, whom she dimly recalled having met on Minbar some years ago. She had made an effort to talk to Ambassador Ta'Lon. And of course, she had made the acquaintances of Captain Lochley, Mister Allan and Doctor Hobbs, amongst others.
One of the discoveries she had made some time ago was that every race she had come across seemed to have some concept of a 'warrior caste' in some way. Not all races had as formalised and definite a group as the Minbari, but there was always some people who fought to protect their race. These warrior castes shared a great many similarities between races.
Foremost among the similarities was outright stupidity.
She was watching as the young Narn boy G'Stral tried to rise from his bed, in spite of his injuries. Whether he belonged to the Narn version of the warrior caste or not was debatable, but he possessed enough characteristics that he could.
"I do not need a nursemaid!" he cried loudly. "I stopped hiding in my father's pouch when I was just a child."
"He is very stubborn," observed a dry voice from behind Sherann.
She nodded, smiling. "I was just thinking on the similarities between races," she said. "Stubbornness seems to be a key factor in many peoples, but especially amongst the Narns."
Ambassador Ta'Lon smiled also. "It is a source of strength... or so our preachers tell us."
"He is too ill to be able to be out of bed, is he not? His injuries should keep him there."
"I have no doubt that he will leave this place of healing when he feels ready to do so. A great deal of the healing process is within the mind."
"I was taught that also. But I was told that healing in the mind comes from meditation, acceptance of the frailities of the flesh and of the need to strengthen the spirit, thereby healing the body."
"An interesting idea, and one that I think G'Kar would be able to discuss with you in more detail. As for myself... if I merely lay down and gave in to my injuries, then I would likely never get up again. A refusal to yield has often been one of the great Narn virtues."
"You would not call it stubbornness, then?"
He shrugged, and smiled. "They are one and the same, surely."
Doctor Hobbs came from the medbay and looked at Ta'Lon. She looked incredibly tired. "Ambassador, good. Please speak to him in there. He's having delusions that he can just get up and walk out of here. Maybe you can talk some sense into him."
Ta'Lon smiled and nodded. "I will do what I can." He turned to Sherann. "Would you care to come as well, Ambassador? Maybe your resoned appeals to his spirit will achieve more than my humble admonitions to his body. Besides, then you would be able to talk to him about whatever subject brought you here in the first place."
"You see a great deal," she said softly, "for one to claims to be a simple soldier."
"I am no more and no less than I seem to be, and it took little insight to notice how troubled you were. Come."
The two of them walked into the bay, where G'Stral had, with considerable bad grace, been forced back into his bed. Ta'Lon said nothing, but merely looked at him. Sherann studied the expression on his face, and noticed something he was trying to hide. He had seen what had attacked him, and he wore the mark of that vision.
He was afraid.
"So, the doctor has sent you to talk some sense into me?" he said. "I do not need to be kept here."
"Oh?" Ta'Lon said, with feigned aplomb. "And did you become a healer then, while my back was turned? Have you fully assessed your injuries and decided that they are too trivial to bother the physicians here with?"
"I do not need a nursemaid."
"There is no shame in accepting the ministrations of healers. A wise man knows when he is too hurt to carry on."
"I can walk. I can talk. That is all I need do."
"You saw it," Sherann said suddenly. "You saw it, didn't you?"
He looked at her, starting, as if he had been bitten. "Yes. I saw it."
"What was it? It was hunting someone, wasn't it? A friend of mine is down there. I believe it is hunting him."
G'Stral laughed, a bitter, mocking, angry sound. "Then he's as good as dead. I don't know why it left me alive. Yes, I saw it. It's a monster... a warrior. One of their warriors. I read about them in the Book of G'Quan when I was a child. They're huge, and deadly. They can move as fast as the wind, and can turn invisible at a whim. They were created to kill, and nothing else."
"Valen's Name," Sherann whispered. "A Dark Servant. Here?"
"It must be destroyed," Ta'Lon said firmly. "We must kill it."
G'Stral laughed again. "It can't be killed."
"Any creature that lives, walks or moves can be killed," said a new voice. Both Sherann and Ta'Lon turned, and so neither saw the look of hatred that crossed G'Stral's face.
"No!" cried the young Narn. "Butcher!"
"It is possible to kill anything," said the Lord-General Marrago as he approached the bed. "And I am told I should know." He looked at G'Stral.
"I need your help, boy. I need you to help me find my daughter."
****************
Ambassador Vir Cotto was tired, and stressed, and just a little bit anxious. He was thinking about Lyndisty, and her father, and Londo, and last night's dinner, which really wasn't sitting well with him I mean they said it was all properly hygienically prepared and conformed to local Safety Standards but really.
He was also thinking about taking a chair to the vidscreen in front of him, and wondered if replacing it would count as an official expense. It would be inconvenient yes, but very therapeutic.
Fortunately, for the vidscreen at least, the face appeared in view, and Vir put down the chair.
"Ambassador Cotto," said the Minister for the Court, the traditional liaison between the Centauri Emperor and those seeking an appointment with him. As Londo had not yet appointed a First Minister, the Minister for the Court had even greater responsibilities than usual. Vir was not sure he liked this new man. He had been appointed literally out of nowhere, and had a very unsavoury background.
"Ah, Minister. I've been trying to get through to the Court for a long while. Has there been a problem with the signal?"
"Routine maintenance. All will be repaired soon. What do you wish?"
"Well...I recently got a notice from our representatives on Minbar....about Lord-General Marrago. They told me, and I'm sure this is just an administrative mistake...but they told me they had been ordered not to oppose the Lord-General's extradition."
"No mistake. That is correct."
"But, ah...but why? I mean...I've taken some legal advice, and everything I've been told leads me to believe that the entire request is very, very dodgy. The Narns are just trying their luck, I think. But...well, without any form of opposition to their petition, then well...You do see what I'm getting at, don't you?"
"Perfectly."
"So...and this is the really big question...why aren't we doing anything?"
"The Emperor has decided not to oppose the matter. He has taken council with his inner circle of advisors, and they have decided that our relations with the InterStellar Alliance are at too much of a delicate stage to risk antagonising two of the key races within the Alliance. We have been assured that the Lord-General will receive a full and fair hearing, and that, if found guilty, he will be punished only to the extent the law allows."
"But...but...this is wrong. Don't you see that? He was only doing as he was ordered. I mean...I know that what he did was...wrong...and I don't like it at all...but to throw him away like that. He's served the Republic all his life. He deserves better."
"That is not for you to decide."
"Why, that is...I demand to speak to the Emperor! At once! This very instant! Right now! Immediately!"
"The Emperor is in a very important meeting, and cannot be disturbed. I assure you, however, that he is perfectly aware of your interest in this matter. He did wonder whether you were acting out of a genuine desire to help the Lord-General, or because you are betrothed to his daughter."
"That is..." Vir spluttered, trying to think of a word. He couldn't. "The Court appreciates your diligance with which you perform your duties, Ambassador Cotto. Good day."
The vidscreen returned to the standard message, and Vir began to give serious consideration to the thought of hurling a chair at it. Eventually, he decided not to, but only by the slimmest of margins.
****************
"Shon'Kar!" hissed G'Stral. He struggled to rise from his bed, but Ta'Lon and Sherann had moved carefully and diplomatically around to his side.
"Your blood oath," replied Marrago, in a soft voice. "Yes. I am told there are a great many sworn against me."
He took a step forward, and Ta'Lon placed a restraining hand on G'Stral's shoulder.
"You hate me, don't you?" the Lord-General whispered. He took another step.
"Yes!" snarled the young Narn. "Yes, I do!"
"Good," came the reply, and G'Stral looked confused. "Hatred is easy, boy. It is simplicity itself. Focus everything that is wrong with your life into one tiny, knotted ball, and then direct it to one person. Hate them with all that you are, and then... everything is much simpler. All your troubles will be faded, and you will be happy again."
He paused, and looked down briefly.
"But it is not that easy," he said with a sigh. "It is never that easy. a lesson I took pains to learn long ago. I have never hated a single being since that day."
"You think I care about your stories?" cried G'Stral. "You killed my family!"
"Yes," came a weary response. "I imagine I did. I have killed many families. Where was it? Dros? Na'Haminar? Oh, it doesn't really matter. I won't remember them. I'm a monster, yes. A butcher. I bathed in the blood of Narn children at Dros. I tore apart your holiest shrines at Na'Haminar. It is much easier for you all to think of me as a monster... than as a man, yes?"
"You are a monster."
"I think you should leave," said Ta'Lon, his eyes narrowing.
"No," the Lord-General said in simple response. He did not take his eyes from G'Stral. "You saw it, didn't you? You saw it down there. It killed one of my men. More than one."
"It didn't kill enough."
"No? There is a boy on Centauri Prime, a few years younger than you. He will never see his father again. He lost his sister a few months ago. Do you dare to think you are the only race that has ever known loss? Ever known sorrow? Ever known grief?"
"You and your whole race can burn, for all I care! You took everything from me. You took my family, my friends, my home!"
"We did, I am sure. As I said, boy. Hatred is a powerful tool, but any tool that cannot be thrown away is no tool at all, but a trap. Do you think you can be rid of your hatred, if it will grant you something you wish?"
"Hatred is all I have."
Marrago looked up, first at Ta'Lon, and then at Sherann. "If you think that," he said, flicking his gaze back to G'Stral, "then you are a even bigger fool than I gave you credit for. It is the preogative of the young to be foolish, but that has to be put aside once they grow...once they learn to serve their people."
He reached to his belt, and pulled out a long dagger. He held it in his hands, examining it slowly. "I have a daughter, you see. She would be older than you... by our reckoning anyway. Ready to be married. She is all that gives me happiness now, the only thing I love in all this galaxy." He met G'Stral's eyes. "You and your fleets took the others from me."
G'Stral was silent, and Marrago nodded, smiling sadly.
"She is here somewhere...on this station. She is hunted and chased by the monster that attacked you. Why it hunts her, I have no idea. It has killed all those I sent to guard her, good men I have sent to their deaths for the sake of my daughter.
"I will find her. She is all that I love. I will not let her die here, alone.
"Now if you were older, boy. If you were a little wiser, a little more experienced...if you were your...G'Kar, of whom I have heard so much...I might simply have appealed to the bonds of loss, and fear that join us all. Our shared connections of love and hate and fear.
"But you are not G'Kar, and you are still young, too young to understand.
"So I will make you an offer, as if I were no more than a Brakiri merchant at market." He tossed the knife to G'Stral who caught it awkwardly. "That is a fine blade, boy. It was given to me at my thirty-fifth Day of Ascencion by a friend who now seems not to know me.
"Tell me that which I need to know. Tell me how to find my daughter, and when I find her, or her body, and see that she is returned to her home...
"Well, boy...then you can drive that dagger right between my hearts.
"Do we have a deal?"
****************
"I have seen... the firebirds rising above the falls, water rushing down thousands of feet to the lake below. I have seen... Cathedral, looming black and terrifying against the starless skies. I have spoken with its Primarch, and learned from him wisdoms lost for tens of millennia.
"I have seen the wonders of your world, Lyndisty. The mountains at Camulodo, the Great Temple in your capital. Miracles, both of nature, and of mortal beings. I have never understood, not as Minbari, not as Vendrizi, why mortal beings so often fight nature, instead of reconciling with it."
Inesval paused, and closed his eyes. He was silent for so long...Lyndisty touched his face gently, wondering if he were dead, and hoping he were not. It was strange, but that was the first time she had ever cared for anyone not of her race. Even those Centauri she had cared for were few: her father, her mother, dear sweet Vir, others...
It was just that, she had always been set alone and distant from her peers. She was a noble, raised to daughter of one of the most ancient and proud Houses in the entire history of the Republic. She was far above her servants. She had watched them at play, she had heard them gossiping and whispering to each other, sharing the rumours and innuendo of the Court. She had tried to involve herself in their lives, but...it had all been so hollow. She had won every childish game they played, but she had recognised early that they had let her win, because she was the Lord-General's daughter. Their laughing conversations had stopped when she had sought to join in. She was not one of them.
And as for the other daughters of noble Houses...they had been too shallow. Raised to believe their only purpose was to look pretty, marry well and spend their husband's money, they had seemed impossibly dull to her. It had taken her a long while to realise she had her father to thank for that. He had raised her, in many ways, as he would have raised a son.
He had taught her to read, and encouraged her to study the great histories, the tragic tales of the past. She had been fascinated by the deeds of House Marrago, from their ascencion to a noble House in the days of the first Emperor, to the two Emperors who had come from their House, to the reason why there would never be a third.
She had studied military tactics, and could converse for hours with trained soldiers and generals. She had followed the Narn Wars with an increasing interest, studying the reports from the front lines, and discussing strategies with her father for hours on end.
She was not one of the vacant, dull-eyed mannequins her peers had become. She loved her father dearly for teaching and helping her in the way that he had, but that had rarely helped with her loneliness.
"Ah," Inesval said at last, and she started.
"You're alive," she whispered.
"It would seem that way," he replied, softly. "Lyndisty...I have something to ask you, something...a great burden to put to you. I would not...but there is no other here..."
"What? I'll do whatever I can." She was surprised to discover that she meant it.
"The knowledge within me...it must not die out. It must not end with...this body. That would mean...they would win. Whoever sent the Dark Beast here...they sought to destroy the past...to destroy all that is not of themselves.
"I cannot let them win.
"The Vendrizi says...it would be proud to make you a host for itself."
Lyndisty was speechless, for the first time in her life. There was a roar nearby, and she looked up. The creature hunting them was getting closer.
****************
"It's a joke. A sick, stupid Centauri joke."
G'Stral was the only one to reply. Ta'Lon's expression was firm, no trace of emotion showing, except for a flicker in his eyes. Sherann looked visibly horrified. The Minbari, at least the worker and religious castes, placed a high value of the sanctity of mortal life. Marrago was a soldier, and he did not see things in quite the same way as priests or artisans.
"No joke, boy," he said. "I am true to my word. Help me find my daughter, and you may kill me."
"I'm expected to believe this? And stop calling me 'boy'. I'm an adult, by Narn standards."
"Yes, but by your standards and by mine, I am an old man, and that gives me the right to call you whatever I wish. You have yet to show me anything to prove you are anything other than a little child crying alone in the wilderness. You hate me, you wish me dead, and now I am giving you the chance to achieve that!
"Fulfill your Shon'Kar, think of all the millions of Narns I butchered.
"Just tell me where to find my daughter."
G'Stral snorted. "If you go hunting that thing, it'll kill you."
"I am an old soldier, and if there is one thing old soldiers are very good at, it is not being killed. Where is she?"
"I don't know exactly where she is," he replied thoughtfully. "I can make an educated guess. I've heard a few rumours about strangers setting up base in Grey sector, and staying out of sight wherever possible. If they're still alive, they'll be in Grey 17. It's walled off somehow. Some crazy cult did it a few years back, and no one's gotten around to doing anything with the place yet. It's a perfect area to lie low and hide. She'll be there."
"And Inesval?" asked Sherann softly.
"I heard about a group of Centauri travelling with a Minbari worker. If he's alive, he'll be there."
"Good," Marrago said softly, nodding his head in a gesture of respect. "Thank you... G'Stral. When I have found her, I will return, so that you may gain your profit from this deal."
"I'll be waiting, but you won't return. It's one of their servants. They created it to hunt and to kill. It can't do anything else. It'll tear you apart."
"We shall see."
***************** ACT FOUR *****************
Ambassador Vir Cotto of the great and mighty Centauri Republic had a number of virtues, more than were readily apparent. Persistence was one of these. So, to a lesser extent, was courage in the face of adversity. He had certainly faced enough adversity, both from within and without the Republic.
His political viewpoints, particularly in relation to the Narns and Emperor Cartagia had not won him too many friends, and his steadfast loyalty to the Republic in general and Londo in particular had made him many enemies outside his own race. Still, he had never stopped fighting for what he believed was right.
Sometimes those beliefs brought him into contact with personal danger. Such as now. Being in a room with an angry Drazi was down in most people's dictionaries in the 'personal danger' section, especially when you were one making him angry.
"Would you at least listen to what I'm saying?"
Fortunately, Ambassador Vizhak was more patient than most of his people. Unfortunately, that was not really saying very much.
"I listen," he said, in what for him was probably meant to be a quiet tone, but was actually somewhere near eardrum-popping. "I listen to you talk. You Centauri, and Centauri like to talk. Centauri just never say anything worth hearing.
"Marrago is Lord-General of Centauri Republic. Is he not?"
"Yes," Vir said, in exasperation. "But..."
"And the Lord-General of Centauri...commands their fleets. He commands their ships, and their soldiers. Does he not?"
"Yes, but..."
"The Centauri attacked our shipping. They attacked our outlying worlds. They waged war against Drazi. They would have done to us what they did to the Narns. Marrago would have done to us what he did to the Narns."
"Yes...no...but..."
"Drazi support Narns in this. If Marrago as innocent as you think, then he will be found not guilty. Drazi have faith in courts of Alliance. Do Centauri have faith in courts of Alliance?"
That was a difficult question. Centauri as a rule did not have faith in much of anything. "Listen to me. He was just obeying orders. He had nothing to do with the attacks on your shipping lines. We both know that."
"You know that. I know that. Courts will find him not guilty."
"No, they won't. This is political. The Narns are testing their power in this, and you're letting them!"
"Drazi and Narns friends now. We part of Alliance. We work together. Drazi Government wants Marrago to stand trial for his crimes. Narn Government wants Marrago to stand trial for his crimes. If you want him not to stand trial...talk to the Narns."
"I've tried, but Ambassador Ta'Lon is...not in his quarters. I'm not sure where he is. I think there's something going in I haven't been told about. People don't tend to tell me much."
"Drazi offer you sympathies. Now leave."
After that less than helpful conversation, Vir returned to his quarters in an even worse mood than he had been before. He was acutely aware of the political issues at stake here. Diplomatic relations between the Republic and the Alliance were difficult at best. The Narns and the Drazi were becoming increasingly vocal in the new Alliance, especially here on Babylon 5. If sacrificing Marrago to them meant improved relations, then all parties would be happy to do so, especially as the Centarum didn't seem to care.
Vir was unsure exactly why he was pursuing this. The things Marrago had done horrified him. They had horrified him at the time, and they still did now. He had risked his life and his career running an underground railroad of Narns to safe territories. He had even killed an Emperor...
But something about all this just felt so wrong. Marrago was an old man who had dedicated his life to the service of the Republic. He had sacrificed everything. He was one of Londo's oldest friends.
For him just to be cast aside like that...it was wrong.
And then there was Lyndisty. Vir had not seen her for a while, but she was still in his thoughts quite often. How could he look at her and tell her he had let her father be taken away for trial and execution and had made no effort to stop it?
He was still deep in thought when he reentered his quarters. Ambling in, thinking deep, typically Vir thoughts, he turned to the commscreen to check on any messages received while he had been away...and he suddenly saw Marrago standing by the door.
"Yah!" Vir cried out, before realising who it was. "Ah, Lord-General. I um...I didn't see you there."
Marrago was looking at something on the wall, but Vir couldn't quite see what it was. "You startle easily, Ambassador," he said. There was a touch of irony in his voice. "You would never have made a soldier."
"Well, no. I've never been that good at taking orders, and I think I'd fail the health inspections. Too many meals at McBari's, I think, and not enough exercise."
"We all serve the Republic in our own ways. You...I think, do so far better here than you would on a battlefield. You do the Republic great honour by your actions here. Never forget that."
"Um...I won't? I mean, I won't." A pause. "There's still been no word from our lawyers. I think they're still thrashing the matter out. The diplomats are hard at work on Minbar. I expect an answer tomorrow sometime."
"I thank you, but I doubt it will be important. I have served the Republic all my life. The time has come now where I can better serve it another way. My daughter will be able to serve the Republic better than I can." He turned, and looked at Vir. "Make her happy, Ambassador Cotto, or I swear by all our Gods my ghost will haunt you throughout eternity."
"Uh..." Vir took a step backwards. "I will? I will. Do you know where she is?"
"Yes."
"Great. You've told Security?"
"No. This is a Centauri matter. She is my daughter. I will find her myself."
"Something tells me that won't be a good idea. She's in danger, yes?"
"Yes."
"Ah-hah. And you don't want to call Security?"
"No."
"Right. I'm glad I know where to stand. I'm going with you."
"What?"
Vir had not known the Lord-General very well, but he had seen him angry, he had seen him tired, he had seen him upset, and he had seen him worried. Sheer shock was a new one.
"I'm going with you. I'm going to help you rescue Lyndisty."
"Out of the question. You are not a soldier."
"No. Therefore I'm not under your command. I've...seen fights before. Usually from behind a very heavy object, but I have seen fights. Lyndisty is...very important to me, and I want to help rescue her. I know there'll be danger, but I've lived here for over five years, and let me tell you, that wasn't very safe most of the time.
"Besides, the more time you spend here talking to me, the longer it will take to find Lyndisty."
Marrago paused for a moment, and then he began to laugh, a deep, booming laughter. "Spoken like a true Centauri."
"Oh? You...you think?"
"Yes." He turned back to the wall, and Vir could see at last what he was looking at. It was the kutari Londo had taken from Urza Jaddo, and had left here. "The guards took my weapons from me. I fear I must borrow this one. It is a fine blade, and it was wielded by a fine man."
He took it from the wall and held it up so that it caught the light. There was a glint. "I will not dishonour your sword, Urza," he said softly. "I...think you will be proud that it may serve the Republic once again."
"Right," said Vir, cheerfully. "Where are we going?" Marrago told him.
"Oh," he said. "Oh...dear."
****************
Sherann noticed with a considerable lack of comfort that G'Stral was still toying with the dagger Marrago had given him. He did not seem to have laid it aside in all the half an hour she had been talking with the doctors and Security. She had gently probed for information about this...Grey 17, and the answers had not been encouraging.
She had then returned to the patient, to find Ta'Lon gone.
"You will cut yourself if you keep playing with that," she said, more than half in jest. G'Stral glared at her, and then he held the sharpness of the blade against the palm of his hand, drawing it across his skin in one smooth motion. Sherann winced.
"And you will never heal if you insist on making such grandiose gestures. I swear, you would fit in perfectly with our Warrior Caste. They have the same sense of pride beyond all reasonable sense."
He said nothing, still looking at the dagger.
"It does not appear you like me very much," she mused, approaching the end of his bed. "That...is a great pity."
"I don't know you. Why should I like you?"
"Do you dislike everyone you don't know?"
"Yes...and most of those I do. I don't have many friends these days. Most of them are dead."
"Then you have had friends. That...is a good place to start. It makes things so much easier in acquiring new ones, would you not say?"
"It only makes it harder."
"I do not think I understand you."
He paused, holding up the dagger, letting it glint in the lights. "I've seen too many friends die. All of them, in fact. In the camps, in the bombings...They're all dead. If there's one thing I've learned ever since the war...having friends only leaves you weak and vulnerable. You just grieve too much when they die."
"Better to have known friendship and lost it, than to not try."
"What's the point? Everyone dies on me."
"I will not. And nor, I think, will Ambassador Ta'Lon. There, you see, you have two friends here. We will not leave you."
He snorted. "I don't believe you."
"I am Minbari, and Minbari do not lie."
"I don't believe that either. Everyone lies, because everyone has something to hide."
"Oh yes. Everyone has something to hide, but those secrets...they are shared with their friends. That is one part of friendship, wouldn't you say?"
"I...guess." He fell silent.
"Will you really use that knife on him?"
"Probably not." Sherann smiled, and nodded, but her smile faded with his next words. "It's a Centauri weapon. Too ugly, and the weight is wrong. I've got a spare katok in my quarters. I'll use that. My Shon'Kar will be met with a Narn blade, not a Centauri one."
She sighed, but said nothing. Time enough for such discussion later, and theirs was a tenuous relationship at present. She brought the conversation back in the direction of Ta'Lon, and the two talked for some time. Sherann did wonder idly for a moment where Ta'Lon had gone, but he was an Ambassador, and doubtless had a number of responsibilities still to be handled, particularly with the current problems with Lord-General Marrago. Yes, that was it. He would be at work.
****************
"What are you doing here?" asked Marrago, staring with faint traces of suspicion at the figure before him.
"Just going for a walk," replied Ta'Lon, in a breezy tone of voice. "I get a little...claustrophobic in my quarters all the time. I felt like stretching my legs."
"And your sword felt like some exercise as well."
"This is a dangerous area of the station, Lord-General. Some form of protection is advisable. Why, just ask Ambassador Cotto there. He has attacked in this area not long ago."
"Well, actually," Vir said. "It was a bit more over in that direction..."
"Besides," added Ta'Lon. "Your sword obviously needed a walk also. A little short, I suppose, but it will be an adequate weapon, all the same, I am sure."
"And where would your...'walk' be taking you?"
"I hadn't really thought about it all that much, but now that you mention. I think Grey 17 is a nice area this time of year." Vir groaned.
"Why would you want to help me?" Marrago asked, suspiciously.
"Help you? As I said...some parts of the station can get very dangerous, but I cannot see any danger befalling someone such as myself, accompanied by a Centauri Ambassador and a section of House Guards. How many were you hoping to bring along?"
"I fear they will be somewhat difficult to sneak past the Security, who are no doubt investigating that area."
"You have information of a secret passage, then."
"A very well-informed Narn youth forwarded me with all the directions I need."
"Splendid," said Ta'Lon. "I am sure all the information was very accurate. I believe it was...this way."
"So my information indicates."
"Good."
"Yes. Good."
"Er...good?" added Vir, for emphasis. "Yes, good."
****************
Lyndisty had received many an unusual offer in her life, but none more so than that. She had to admit that the situation was more than a little confusing, and while she had been in some dangerous situations in the past, nothing compared to this.
However, she respected Inesval, who seemed to her to possess a great many of the characteristics which she so loved in Vir, and in her father. He was very wise, and knowledgeable, and kind...which was a very rare combination amongst Centauri men, with the two notable exceptions. She wondered if all Minbari were like him.
"The Vendrizi says," Inesval continued. "It says...it would be honoured for you to be a host, once this body has failed. But it also says this is a difficult decision for you. It wishes there was another way, but there is not." Inesval then began to cough again. He looked at her, with haunted eyes, that were his own, and when he spoke, it was with his own voice again.
"I am sorry," he whispered. "I thought to show you everything of beauty in the galaxy...and I have led to only to your death."
"There is nothing to fear," she said, hoping she sounded convincing enough to him, because she certainly did not to herself. "Help will come, from your friend Sherann, or from my darling Vir. We will be..."
"Shush," he whispered. "What can you hear?"
She listened intently, the sound of her hearts beating loud in her ears. There was nothing else, however. "Nothing," she replied. "It is quiet."
"Rise," he said. "It has found us. Hurry. There must be somewhere else to flee. There must be..."
Slowly, she stood, and helped him rise. He almost collapsed against her, and she stumbled. "Maybe..." she said slowly. "Maybe it has gone..."
"No," he said. "It is..."
The very air shimmered before them, and there was an impossibly loud roar that exploded in her ears. She thought she screamed, but she could not be sure, not over that sound, the deafening cry of triumph.
It was there, massively tall, with a long snout, which hid a mouth. Slowly, the beast smiled, and she could see a mouth full of jagged teeth. Bits of flesh and cloth were stuck between them. The smell of its breath was nearly enough to overwhelm her. It was the stench of rotting meat, of an opened grave filled with the bodies of the slain, and for a moment she saw the pits at Na'Haminar again, and all the bodies she had helped throw in them.
It moved slowly, studying Inesval. Its eyes flashed for a moment, a brilliant gold, with the tiniest dots of red at the centre. At the back of them lurked a terrible intelligence, more than the mere bestial, more than the animal. This creature was every bit as intelligent as she, and Inesval, and as every person she had ever met.
Something moved at the back of its mouth, and a long, sinuous tongue came forward, dripping with a viscuous liquid. Lyndisty backed away slowly, keeping one hand on Inesval's arm. The creature's tongue touched the front of her ragged dress gently, and its eyes fixed on her.
{{You are mortal}} spoke a hissing voice in her mind. She knew the creature was speaking to her, and its voice was filled with a chilling sense of superiority, of an incredible arrogance. It was the way she might have spoken to a pet, to an animal, to a...to a Narn...
{{Then...you are mine}}
"No!" roared Inesval suddenly. His motion broke the near-paralysis that gripped her. Lunging forward, he pushed her aside, and faced up to the creature. "You can never win," he said. As Lyndisty scrambled away, she looked up, and saw that he was standing there, staring up into those terribly sentient eyes. He was speaking, but whether in his Inesval-voice or his Vendrizi-voice she could not be sure. Perhaps they had become one and the same.
"You can never win, because your masters created you only for one purpose. You will kill everything you see, including your masters if they ever grow too weak to control you. And you will then stand alone, surrounded by a galaxy of the dead...and you will hunt your own kind, until only one remains. One voice howling in the wildneress, one living being, alone in a world filled with nothing but the dead.
"But we will endure, for we are knowledge made flesh, and knowledge cannot be killed, no matter how great the evil, no matter how terrible the hunter. We will endure."
The creature's head twitched slightly, and then a soft grunting came from its mouth. It took Lyndisty a moment to realise it was laughter.
{{Dead}} it said, and then more laughter grunts. {{Dead}}
It long, spiked arm lashed out, and there was a sickening crunch as it tore into Inesval's chest. A flash of red rained from his body, and he fell. With its other hand, the creature picked up the body. Lyndisty could not tell whether he was alive or dead, but she could see the bones protruding from his back, snapped and torn, and she wondered if any living being could survive a blow such as that.
{{You}}
She reacted at last, images of her father before her eyes. He had taught her how to fight, and to how run. He had taught her how to stay alive. He had taught her many things. Her true father had been a soldier who had given his life for his Republic, and her adopted father was a soldier who had dedicated not just his life, but his soul to that same Republic. She knew every name of every scion of House Marrago, from the first peasant lord, through the two Emperors, through to the man who was her father in soul if not in blood.
She was a daughter of the Republic. She was a Centauri.
"I'm not afraid of you!" she shouted up at it, lying. "You feed on fear, but he wasn't afraid of you, and neither am I!"
There was something her father had told her once, one of his lessons while they were on Narn. He had been talking about the time he had hunted down a group of guerrilas in the G'Khorazhar Mountains. She had asked him, with an awe-inspired hero worship, whether he had been afraid.
"Oh yes," he had replied, with a clear honesty. "Everyone is afraid some of the time. Most of the time, when you are a soldier. I've never known anyone who was never afraid."
"They say Emperor Cartagia does not fear anything."
A dark expression had crossed his face. "That may well be true. You have never met the Emperor, my daughter, but I have, and if there is anyone I would say to be truly fearless, it would be him. You see, my daughter...fear is an instinct given us by the Great Maker, or by the universe. It reminds us constantly of the urge to live, to survive past whatever dangers engulf us now. The first instinct is to run...and hence we live.
"Now, what distinguishes us from the animals, is that we can control and master our fears, if we have to. We are not ruled by our instincts, but by our minds. We can control our fears. When you hear of this or that hero being fearless...what is meant is that they can simply control their fears better than most. They do not let their fears interfere with their duties to the Republic.
"But there are people, some people, including perhaps our Emperor, who truly feel no fear. And, my daughter, I hope you never meet any such person, for they are completely insane, and terrifying in their own way. We all feel fear, and we must all strive to conquer it.
"That is what gives us our power."
{{Run}} whispered the voice in her mind. {{Run screaming in terror, that you may be hunted}}
She wanted to. She wanted to turn and flee so much, but she knew that if she did, it would win. It was faster than her, and she had run from it ever since the first encounter with it, on the scientific research station. Its power was drawn from fear, and she would not show it just how scared she was.
"No," she said. "I am not afraid of you."
Its tongue lashed out at her, striking her across the face. She fell back, wincing at the sting, but she did not run.
{{Lie}}
"No. I am not afraid of you. You...cannot make me run from you...any longer."
It hissed again, and tossed Inesval's body to the floor at her feet. It raised its arms, and let loose a loud roar. Lyndisty's very body seemed to shake, and she fell, placing her hands over her ears in a futile effort to block out the pain from the noise.
"I'm not afraid of you!" she cried again. It lowered its head, and looked at her again, studying her closely. She wanted to scream, but she did not. She merely looked at it.
"I am proud of you," said a voice, and her heart leapt. She looked behind the creature, and saw a figure standing there, three figures. She smiled, and for the first time began to honestly believe there was a chance for survival.
"I am proud of you," repeated the first figure. "My daughter."
The creature turned.
****************
Londo Mollari, former Centauri Ambassador to Babylon 5, and current Emperor of the Centauri Republic, had once said something to his attache and replacement, Vir Cotto, something that Vir had always remembered. Londo had been drunk at the time, dark with brooding thoughts about the place of