From: "Gareth Williams" Subject: The One and the Nine, part 1A, Date: Tue, 18 Aug 1998 14:47:00 +0100 Babylon 5: A Dark, Distorted Mirror Phase Three - A Line in the Sand Chapter One - The One and the Nine Part 1 of 4 by Gareth Williams (lwa97gdw@Sheffield.ac.uk) The prophecies of Valen are so well known as hardly to need restating here. The histories of Valen are rather less so. Oh, certain things are irrefutable. That he appeared out of nowhere, bringing to us the great battle station which provided us with the means to defeat the Enemy is not disputed. That he was the greatest of us is not disputed either. That he was 'Minbari not born of Minbari' is widely accepted, even though few of us understand what that means. Other details however are shrouded in controversy, and much depends upon the caste of the person to whom you speak. To the warriors, Valen was one of them, the greatest of them, a detail not even Sinoval dares contradict. They speak of Valen as the shatterer of empires, as the bringer of light to the dark places, as the sentinel of duty and responsibility. It is sad that they have themselves lost many of the virtues they claim to have inherited from him. To the religious caste, Valen was the ultimate conciliator, bringing peace where there was war, bringing joy where there was sorrow. They speak of the man who formed the Grey Council, ended the warring, united the Fanes after years of futile conflict. They speak of the man who preached and drew crowds of hundreds of thousands. To us... we speak of him as the man who built the foundations of our people. The other castes tend to regard us with contempt. Their saying, 'the warriors fight, the religious pray, the workers build', was intended to demonstrate to us our station. We are the labourers, the toilers, the ones unfit to raise our eyes to the sky. Valen showed us differently. There is no shame in building. We are the creators, not just of bridges and temples and ships, but of hope and justice and safety. We are the foundation stone upon which the whole of our people rests. Valen knew this, and encouraged it in us. There are accounts - which I believe to be accurate - of his conversations with the leaders of the worker families. He understood our duty, he understood our purpose and our strength. As with everything else, there is no solid clarification on the manner of his death. Many refuse to believe he has died at all. Some of the warriors hold he died a death they would see as fitting, returning to Z'ha'dum to face down the Ultimate Enemy once and for all. The religious caste hold that his soul has passed on, and been reborn countless times since then. The warriors believe his soul remains, waiting for the day when he will return to us. They believe that they must remain worthy and pure for him. And what do we believe? All these things, and none of them. We know who Valen was, and we know how he lived. Surely that is more important than how he died? And as for his return... if we keep ourselves as he wished us to be, there will be no need for him to return, for he will never have left us... Excerpts from 'The Worker, the Warrior, the Priest: Essays on Valen', written and published by Kats of the Fifth Fane, in the year the humans would know as 2250. All copies of this are believed destroyed with Tuzanor, the City of Sorrows. * * * * * * * "I have returned." The first words spoken by Valen on the Day of Return, uttered in the Temple of Varenni, Yedor, on the Earth date December 31st, 2259. * * * * * * * There are certain moments which are later identified as crucial to the direction of the universe. Such moments are often difficult to define, much less so to recognise. Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar described them in one of his more famous speeches to his Narn congregation as being moments of transition - "in which the future lurks waiting, forming, preparing itself" - and moments of revelation - "where the future is born". By that reckoning, the events of the entire last week had been one long moment of revelation. Minbar, one of the oldest civilisations in the galaxy, had fallen. Torn apart by internal strife, political division, genocide and one enemy too many, the seeds of her downfall had been sown many years ago - perhaps even when Valen had first arrived among the Minbari. The key events of the last week had accelerated all these random elements and exploded with brutal force upon the Minbari people. Their world was devastated, their skies filled with choking clouds and burning rain, their ground poisoned beyond repair. Such was the revenge of the human race. But still the strife continued. A vicious struggle for leadership had ensued, as disparate factions vied and contended for power. The contest seemed finally and decisively over. Sinoval of the Wind Swords clan, formally Holy One and Entil'zha, and now Primarch Nominus et Corpus of the Minbari's ancient enemies the Soul Hunters, had met and defeated his adversary - the warrior, Kalain - in the ancient device of the Starfire Wheel. Somehow Sinoval had faced its lethal fury and survived, thus becoming the only one other than Valen to do so. That should have been that. Issue resolved. Sinoval would rule. Matters did not work that way. A moment of revelation. Sinoval had had bare seconds to enjoy his triumph before another trial arrived. Heralded by an angel from myth, a figure stepped forward. He had pulled back his hood, and said six simple words. "I have returned. I am Valen." G'Kar had broken down the galaxy into moments of transition and moments of revelation, which formed the present and the future. He did add one other detail. The future is always born in pain. * * * * * * * Sinoval turned his gaze, not to the figure claiming to be Valen, but to the angel hovering above him. The people whispered the name 'Valeria'. Sinoval thought another name entirely, but he did not speak it. Some days it seemed that he alone saw the truth between what the Vorlons were and what they claimed to be. He strode forward towards the newcomer. The crowd fell silent. They had gathered here as refugees, fleeing to the one building in Yedor not reduced to rubble. They had been expecting a miracle here for days, and now they had seen three: Sinoval surviving the Starfire Wheel; Valeria appearing; and the return of Valen. And yet many of them were afraid. Sinoval was a warrior. A warrior who stood alongside Soul Hunters, who had defeated one of his own and who, if rumour was correct, had abandoned his people to this bombardment. The warriors here certainly did not think so, but the religious caste and the workers... they doubted. Sinoval reached Valen and stopped mere inches before him. With piercing dark eyes, he gazed into the soul of the person opposite him. Valen, greatest of them all. The One. Founder of the Grey Council. The list of his achievements could run forever. The entire Temple was silent. Kats, of the workers, watched the scene. She did not move. She did not breathe. She more than anyone else recognised the tragedy here, and the potential for so much worse. The Soul Hunters beside Sinoval - his honour guard - were silent. Whatever they saw, whatever they thought, they kept the matter to themselves. Sinoval snorted and turned away. Without saying a word, he stalked from the sanctuary. The two Soul Hunters followed him, each one looking at Valen... almost hungrily. Kats flicked a glance back in Sinoval's direction and then towards Valen, her mind in two directions. If this really was Valen, if... if it was him, then surely she should stay here, listen to his words. And yet she had sworn fealty to Sinoval, sworn to follow him through darkness and fire, sworn to... She decided, and left the sanctum, following Sinoval. She caught up with him as he was about to leave the building. He stopped as he heard her quick footsteps, and nodded to her. She said nothing as she neared, waiting for him to speak. "It saddens me," Sinoval said slowly, "that he is not who he says he is. He is almost everything I could have wished the real Valen to be. What- ever the Vorlons did to him, it almost worked. Almost." "How... how do you know? Are you certain?" Sinoval shook his head sadly. "I am certain." He continued walking, making for the shuttle that would take him back to Cathedral. Kats followed him, having to hurry to keep up with his long stride. "Oh, the bearing... the voice, the appearance... everything is right. Everything except the eyes." "The eyes?" "There is no experience, no wisdom, no courage in them. They were... empty. Blank. That is not Valen, although I could almost wish it were." "You... you could have challenged him. You could have told the others, you could have..." "Have done what? I am sure he will convince them well enough. The priestlings in particular will be eager to believe. Their great uniter has returned to save them from the monster who brings the Shagh Toth here, and who does not fall in with their every word. Let them believe, my lady. They are still my people, not his. He can call himself Valen, he can call himself the One, he can call himself whatever he wishes. That does not make it true. I rule here, and I will continue to rule no matter how many false Valens the Vorlons throw up before me." "I will follow you, Holy One," she said quietly, the words having more force in her soft tone than many others could manage in a strong one. "I will follow you through darkness and fire." "Why?" he asked suddenly, and she stopped. She had first sworn that oath to him before the bombardment, a few weeks ago. She had spoken it then because he had saved her, and because another brave man had sworn it as well. Now, she believed in the oath more than ever. "Because you could command the heavens if you wanted. Because you survived the Starfire Wheel. Because I believe in you. Because I... because I will." "Ah, fine words, my lady. I honestly believe there is a warrior's heart within you." She smiled. "I am happy with my own heart, Holy One. I am no more and no less than I seem." "I doubt that." He gestured to her, and they resumed walking, more slowly this time. He had reduced his massive stride to her smaller steps. "You spoke of the Starfire Wheel. Do you know how I survived?" "No. Some would say that you were chosen, as Valen was." "Chosen? Yes, but chosen by whom, I wonder? Actually, I did survive in the same way that Valen did. I cheated, as he did." Kats' eyes widened for a moment, but she was not particularly surprised. "A few... simple modifications to my pike, and when raised above my head it created a force field. The fatal radiation flowed straight past it, and I survived. Simple, really. Valen managed it the same way. A quick conversation with a few souls and the Vindrizi, and I soon figured it out." Kats smiled. "You are more devious than I gave you credit for, Holy One. What will you do about Va... about him?" "He is of no concern to me. I have duties and responsibilities here, and elsewhere. If they believe him, then let them. I still rule here. I, and no other. I will deal with this false Valen, and with his Vorlon masters... in due course. "Come, my lady. I fear that there is a great deal ahead." "Yes," she whispered. "There is." * * * * * * * He spoke, and his words fired them. They could not remember exactly what he said, but standing there, where three miracles had just been witnes- sed... Standing there, with an angel of legends hovering above him, he could have spoken of nothing and still held their attention for hours. His first speech to them and been straightforward enough. A speech of understanding, of remembrance, of grief for the fallen and determination for the future. He said nothing of Sinoval, or of the Starfire Wheel, or of the Shadows, or of humanity. These could wait. His words freed them, and bound them, holding them entranced, and giving them visions of the future, and the past. He reached into their minds, and he wove for each and every one of them a tapestry in which they were the centre. He spoke, and when his words were over, he turned and left, disappearing as if he had never been. The angel disappeared with him, and the people who had witnessed the miracle were left alone, silent in wonderment at what they had seen. It was a beginning. There would be more words, more speeches, more oratory, more wonder. He would bind them to him, bring them to him, fire their minds and pacify their souls. And then... and... then... He did not know. These could wait. * * * * * * * Lyta Alexander was not having a good day. Of course, not many of her days had been good recently, but she could put that down to a series of awkward and quite ridiculous events that had plagued her for the last two years. She supposed that compared to some of those days, this one was not actually all that bad, just a little... annoying. She was bored, in fact. And quite frustrated. She was a permanent fixture on board the Parmenion in case the ship ran into any Shadows, as telepaths were apparently a weapon of sorts against them. Lyta had never personally tested this theory out and did not especially want to, but the fact was that without the Shadows around she was as much use as a red- haired paperweight. So she'd been sitting around helplessly while her own people proceeded to demolish an entire planet from orbit. She had been sitting around while the ship she was on was engaged in a bloody and quite brutal battle. She had made minor and quite insignificant efforts to do something to help the repairs on Minbar, but for obvious reasons she was not being allowed down to the planet. And now, today, she was aware of both the gentle singing in her mind that indicated her Vorlon passenger was getting ready to say something, and some... most... peculiar emotions from her telepathic link with Delenn. Lyta did not quite know exactly what Delenn was doing, but she was certainly... having fun doing it. She sighed and lay back on the narrow bunk in her room. She supposed she could have had larger quarters, but the Parmenion was not really built for comfort and wherever possible she wanted to stay away from some of the other officers here. She could hear a distant giggling and wondered just what Delenn was doing. This psychic bond, while pleasant at times, was also quite annoying. For some reason it was... *Marcus!* Lyta started as the thought she had been resisting all day burst into the forefront of her mind. She gasped and began to shake softly. *Oh not now, not now, please!* Marcus Cole... the greatest love of her life, dead for nine months or so. And for most of those nine months she had managed to avoid thinking about him. Now, for some reason, memories of him exploded into her mind. The way he looked, the way he smelled, the way he reacted when she kissed him, the way he had died... The singing grew gently louder and she rolled off the bed, resting on her knees, trying to cover her ears with her hands. "Stop it, you bastard!" she whispered. "Stop it!" There was a soft noise, almost like a wind chime. *Memory,* said the Vorlon. *Remember the fallen. Count the lost.* "I... don't want to remember him!" she snapped. "Just... for God's sake, leave me alone!" Kosh Naranek, her own personal Vorlon accessory. Delenn had had to put up with this for quite a while, until the Vorlon's presence had somehow transferred to Lyta during a routine telepathic scan. There had been very few times since then that she had not regretted that experience. Oh, her link with Delenn was wonderful, but the Vorlon she could do without. "So what is it this time then?" she asked. "More cryptic remarks? I suppose I'm lucky you aren't appearing in a dream this time." The last time she hadn't been able to sleep for three days afterwards. *Protocol. There is another here. Visit him.* "Another what? Another Vorlon?" *Another dreamer.* "Who? Look, for God's sake, why can't you ever just tell me straight out? What the hell is going on?" *Understanding is a three-edged sword. Very well. Learn.* Lyta was about to say something when a force tore through the outer layers of her mind and deposited itself directly before her eyes. She could see another Vorlon - this one had a light blue encounter suit. She did not have much experience with Vorlons, but this one... she did not like him. He looked faintly... malevolent. Even unpleasant. There was someone next to him, a humanoid. A Minbari, in fact. A Minbari with... the... most... brilliant... golden eyes. He seemed to be looking directly at her. He... There was another explosion in her mind, and she could see something else. A battle, human ships against Minbari. The Minbari were winning. Easily. They were bearing down on a planet, a blue-green world... *Oh my God, that's Earth! That's...* Something was floating in space. A ship. A Starfury. Someone was in there, floating, screaming, trapped inside a glass box. He could see... He was watching them... With a start, Lyta's vision cleared. She began gasping desperately. She realised that she was trembling uncontrollably. For a moment she had been there... there... watching Earth being... *Understanding. Knowledge.* "You ever do that to me again, you bastard, and I'll... I'll..." She didn't know what to do. She doubted she could actually do anything at all to that thing. "Who was he? My God, to have to... see that..." *A dreamer. A man standing looking at a row of footsteps in a desert.* "Well, that makes about as much sense as anything else I've ever heard from you. Where do you want me to go?" *Down. There is a place there. A place of quiet and healing. Find it, and speak to those who are there.* "So much for directions. Where is that supposed to get me?" *You will know.* "That's not much help." *You will know.* "Fine, fine." Lyta rose to her feet and began pulling on a jacket and boots. Going down to Minbar would not be a good idea, but anything was preferable to being lectured by the Vorlon. She'd have to find Commander Corwin of course, arrange a trip down by shuttle, maybe get an escort, maybe... A sudden flash came back to her. The Minbari next to the other Vorlon. Such brilliant golden eyes. Such... beautiful golden eyes. These apart, he looked almost like the human she had seen. Floating in a glass cage. Watching his world being torn apart. Such golden eyes... * * * * * * * "John?" "Hmm?" "John... have you ever... been... reborn?" "What?" Delenn of Mir, former Satai of the Grey Council and currently President of the United Alliance of Kazomi 7, snuggled deeper into the arms of the man who was undoubtedly the love of her life and tried to articulate some of the things she was feeling. It would have helped if she even knew what she was feeling. There was so much... blood between human and Minbari, and between the two of them in particular. Delenn had been unsure of her feelings for John for a long time, and it had taken the recent revelation to confirm them in her mind. In his as well, apparently. There was something Draal had told her once. "Freedom, like love, is a strange thing. You only notice it when it is in danger, or when it is gone." "A rebirth," she said slowly. "I... think that is the word for it. We call it the Nafak'cha. It is a ceremony held to mark a great change that is coming, or a great change that has been. It is a time for... meditat- ion on the past, hope for the future. A time for the healing of wounds and the joining of bonds. A time for... many things." "It sounds great." He was smiling and his hold on her tightened. She did not want him ever to let go. "It... it sounds great, Delenn. What would I... we have to do?" "We must give up something of great value to us, and reveal something we have never told anyone else." "Hmm. You have some weird ceremonies. Back home we'd hold a ceremony like that by going out and getting drunk." "Maybe next time." "It's a great idea. How... ceremonial would it be? Do you need many people there, or...?" "It can be done with any number, but nine is an... appropriate figure. It is a number of great significance to us. I... I would like to ask Lyta, if that is... all right with you?" "Of course it is. Ask whoever you like. It's your ceremony after all. Nine, you said? Why don't you ask David?" "D... David?" John clicked his tongue in irritation. "Sorry. Commander Corwin." "Oh! Of course... Yes. There are a few others I would like to ask. I have... been thinking about this for a few days. There has been so much blood shed, so many griefs aired and old scores raised. We need a moment of unity, of remembrance." He kissed the back of her neck, his hand in her hair. "Of course. How long would it take to organise?" "If I... start now, then we may be able to hold it tonight. But I will..." She squirmed slightly. "John, I..." He was kissing her again. "John... the Nafak'cha has... other significances as well. It can have many. One of them is... a joining. Of souls. I would... like... um... that is..." "Delenn, I... I understand. It's just that..." He tensed again and his hands slid from her waist. "It's that... well..." He sighed. "I... do... love you. You know that?" She smiled, although sadly. "I do. We have time, John. A little, at least. The Nafak'cha will help." He chuckled, although it was a false laugh. "I understand. Of course, Delenn. Go on. I'd better report in with David anyway. He'll probably think I've dropped off the face of the galaxy or something." "He will know." She rose to her feet, sliding out from his embrace. She began smoothing out her dress, which had somehow got quite... rumpled. She turned to look at him, seated on his chair, his jacket open. He looked... younger. There was a light in his eyes that had rarely been there. She had known him for two years and had never seen him look as happy as he did now. Her heart felt as though it would burst. Slowly she leant over him, placing her palms on his chest. She kissed him, gently, slowly, lovingly, and then straightened, smiling, hoping he could not see in her eyes what she could see in his. "I love you," she whispered. "I will always love you." He smiled, and reached up to touch her cheek. She smiled in turn, and flicked her gaze down to hide the pain. Then she turned, and made her way to the door. She stopped just as she reached it. "John... I think... I think I should invite Sinoval." "If you... think that's a good idea." "It is a good idea. I do not wish to. I do not like him, or his actions of late, and yet... He should be present. His soul is as much in need of rebirth as mi... as ours." "If you think so. I don't like him either, but..." He shrugged. "You do what you think is right, Delenn. I'll be with you." She nodded. "I will... ask him," she said softly. Then she left the room. A Rebirth Ceremony. A chance to mend past wounds, and establish future ties. But how could she look to the future, when she and John did not have a future to look forward to? * * * * * * * There are things he remembers, things that are at odds with what he knows to be fact. He is Valen, he is the saviour of the Minbari, the scourge of the Shadows, he is... human. Catherine... A strange name. Who was that? Who...? A voice in his mind. A musical voice, but not one of light breezes and wind chimes in the autumn air. A voice of the sighs of a dying man, of bones rattling in the wind, of the sound night makes when it kills the sun. "I..." He shakes his head. "Yes. That is correct. You are the Vorlons. You are the angels. You are our allies. Yes... yes, I... I remember now. I... think." There is a brillian t light shining over him, and he sees an image of God before him. He drops to his knees, and whispers a prayer in a language he does not remember. He sees himself, kneeling, praying to a God he could not see then. He is... he... is... Someone is coming. Here? This place is... a sanctum. A place sacred to the Vorlons... the angels. This is their holy place. Surely no one would come here. Especially not a... human? He rises, becoming aware of his body again. Muscles strain, bones creak. Sometimes he feels his body is an encumbrance. At other times, he feels it is the only link he has left, a link to... something. There are so many holes in his mind, in his memory, in him. It is a woman, a human woman. For a moment he studies her from a perspec- tive not his own. She is pretty, tall, red-haired. His eyes linger over her hair for a moment, and he wonders why he is looking at it. None of his race has hair, except for a few who grow it on their chins. Her eyes are large, and guarded. There is a depth there, a depth that extends all the way to her soul, a depth that hints at the pain she has experienced, and the pain still to come. She stops, looking at him, her penetrating eyes seeming to delve into his own. He wonders what she can see there, and he wonders why she should care. Then she sees the angel floating above them, and her mouth opens in a silent gasp. She takes one step forward, and then is locked into place, her head thrown back, her beautiful eyes lost to his view. A light begins to pour from her mouth, and he averts his eyes. This is not for him. This is not his place. He knows his place. It is... somewhere... He steps forward, towards her. He does not know why. She strikes a chord in him. A yearning towards something forgotten. A memory, perhaps? He reaches out towards her and takes her hand in his. It is covered by a glove. She does not flinch from his touch. She does not even acknowledge it. He is wearing gloves also. He does not know why he discards them both, letting them drop to the floor. They do not seem important any more. His hand touches her cheek gently. She is warm. It has been a long time since he has touched another (human?)... another... being. At least physically. She is warm. It is a pleasant sensation. whispers the voice of rattling bones and grating wind. He steps back and stands still, waiting. They are talking. About what, he does not know, and it is not his place to know. He is the servant, not the master. He is the tool, not the carpenter. But he remembers the warmth of her skin, and something begins to stir within his memories. Something... * * * * * * * "A rebirth ceremony?" Sinoval looked as though he was about to burst into laughter. Kats looked at him strangely. His Soul Hunter 'honour guard' was shifting uneasily, but Sinoval looked more amused than angry. "Our world is in ruins, our people dying, our buildings shattered, a false prophet has arisen, and... and Delenn wants to hold a Rebirth Ceremony..." He was laughing. "Well, there is a priestling for you. Their solution to everything... meditate on it and hope it will go away." Kats smiled. "As opposed to the warrior solution to everything, which is to hit things." He turned to look at her, focussing his entire dark stare on her. She did not quail before the gaze that could humble even a Vorlon, but she did straighten herself a little more. "I think I will go to it, Holy One, with your permission of course?" He snorted. "You need no permission from me, my lady. Your soul is your own." She smiled, and nodded briefly. "And... I think you should go also, Holy One." "I have responsibilities here, my lady." "And how many of your responsibilities can you accomplish when you collapse from exhaustion? When was the last time you slept?" His gaze grew darker still. "Just before Deeron tried to kill me." "Holy One... you need to rest. You need to meditate, and remember, and... rest. The Nafak'cha is not just some foolish priestling ceremony. It is a chance to surrender the past, embrace the future, give up a secret..." "A secret?" His eyes gleamed for a moment, and she could see the ticking in his mind. "A... secret... Yes, I have secrets, and I'm not the only one. Delenn, Sheridan... perhaps... yes... perhaps." He looked at her, and graced her with a smile. "Are you now my voice of wisdom, Lady? The angel over my shoulder?" "I will be whatever you want me to be." She spoke the words simply, without emphasis. None was needed. "I am already your conscience." "Something every ruler needs," he whispered. "Very well then, my lady of conscience and wisdom. I will go to Delenn's ceremony. I feel there may be... something of worth to be gained there after all." Kats frowned briefly, but only for a moment. Sinoval was Sinoval after all. Although he would not admit it, he had lost all incentive for anything but his duties. She swore to make him think of something else, even if only for a moment. That would be enough. * * * * * * * From: "Gareth Williams" Subject: The One and the Nine, part 1B Date: Tue, 18 Aug 1998 14:49:56 +0100 The One and the Nine, Part 1B of 4 Gareth Williams, lwa97gdw@sheffield.ac.uk Sonovar walked slowly through the streets of a ruined city, looking neither to the right, nor the left, but only straight ahead. He could hear the soft moans, the desperate cries, the angry whimpers of the people around him. He did not care. What were they to him? Weaklings. Fools. People who did not know when to come in from the rain. Sonovar had not been born in Yedor, but he had come here often. He had not liked the city. He did not like cities in general. He hated people. He hated being around people. Far too many of them were just weak, and pathetic, and foolish. Strength should rule, that was obvious. He was looking for someone, someone who had once possessed strength, but had somehow lost it. Just like his whole caste, in fact. Sonovar eventually found the one he was looking for. Kalain was hunched in a corner, whimpering softly. His bone crest was virtually disinteg- rating, revealing the delicate membrane beneath. His eyes were staring sightlessly into the sky. His fingers were clawing deep gouges in his face. Sonovar sighed. Kalain would be a symbol. He had stood up to Sinoval, after all. He was a symbol. Sonovar helped raise the fallen warrior to his feet. This was not over yet. Let Sinoval and this new 'Valen' fight over this barren rock. He would be there to pick up the pieces. It started to rain. Sonovar muttered angrily under his breath, and helped balance Kalain. They had to get out of the rain soon. * * * * * * * Lyta Alexander found her consciousness surfacing through the layers of her mind and she swayed, almost falling over. For an indefinite period she had been a prisoner, the vessel through which a conversation had flowed. She had not liked the experience. He reached forward and caught her easily, holding her while she regained her balance. His hands felt cold, even through her clothing. He had discarded his gloves, she noticed abstractedly. She raised her head from his hands, and looked at his eyes. They were... golden. Slowly, she pulled away from him. A Minbari. Another Minbari. But this one was... different. She could see a faint circlet of light around his head. Almost a halo, absurd as the idea was. Probably just a sign of his connection to the Vorlons. A little psychic residue of the recent manifestation. He looked at her, his golden eyes seeming to pierce her own. She felt strangely... open to him. "Who are you?" he whispered. She started. She had heard that question asked countless times in her dreams, from the consciousness residing within her. She did not know the answer, and said so. "Who am I?" he asked. She did not know that either. But somehow she found her mouth opening, her eyes filling with light, her mind taken over again. She had time for a desperate *Not Again!* before the alien words came out of her mouth. Before, the rush of the Vorlon within her - Kosh? - had been a tidal wave charging forward, pushing aside everything in its way. This time it was a mere trickle, a small current burrowing through the contours of her mind. This time at least she was aware of what she was doing and saying. She just could not do anything about it. said the voice that was not hers from the mouth that was hers. Lyta shook as Kosh's spirit left the forefront of her mind. "I really wish he'd give me some warning the next time he does that," she said feebly. "Did that make any sense to you?" "I... don't know... Perhaps. Who are you?" She grimaced. "That question again. I'm Lyta Alexander. I'm the telepath on board the EAS Parmenion. And you are?" "Valen. At least, that's what they tell me. I... remember... things. But on other matters, nothing. I can understand tactics, strategies, oratory, but who I am... what I am... I don't know. Sometimes the only thing that seems constant is..." He looked around. "He's gone." "Yeah, Vorlons do that." Lyta suddenly chuckled. "Here I am, talking about Vorlons as if I were the expert. Well, you heard the man. I'm supposed to... teach you. Something. Do you have anything in mind?" "I... I want to walk. To see this place, this world, this people. I... I want to see my home." Lyta shrugged. "You're the boss. I guess. Come on. I don't know my way around here much, and I might get into trouble, but if you're with me... I don't know. It's been years since anything made any sense at all." "Really?" He seemed to be thinking about something. His golden eyes flashed once. "I think you might be right." * * * * * * * "You want me to *what*?" Commander David Corwin looked at the woman before him and realised what he had forgotten a lot in recent months. Delenn might look human. She might even act human at times. But she was not human. No human would ever have an idea like that. "The Nafak'cha is a time for remembrance. Surely, in light of what has happened, you can see the need for such a ceremony." "I... Look, this is crazy. I'm busy. You've helped the Captain a lot lately..." She blushed slightly, and Corwin paused before continuing. Very quickly. He did not want to know what the blush meant. "And I'm grateful. He's needed something to take his mind off everything that's been happening, but... I'm still human. I... I don't see why I should take part in some Minbari counselling festival." "John asked me to ask you to come," she said softly. "We need unity between our peoples. My change was to help achieve that unity..." "Hasn't worked very well, has it?" She flinched and Corwin immediately regretted the words, but once said... "No," she said firmly. "It has not, but I will keep trying, and I will keep trying... until I die. I have given my body, and I will give my life to make amends for what has been done. My people are falling apart, my world is in ashes, friends I have known all my life are dead or refuse to acknowledge me. The one hope my people have is a dictator whose method of leadership I abhor. "But I will keep trying, because it is what I need to do. I love John, and I am doing this for him as much as for myself. Please... you are his friend. For him, please..." Corwin looked at her. Sincerity shone in her expression, and yet, she was still Minbari... or was she truly Minbari any more? The Captain had asked for him. "Ah, Major Krantz can look after the ship for a while," he said. "I'll be there." Her smile could have lit up the galaxy. * * * * * * * The Whisper Gallery was empty. The Hall of Reception was silent. The white mists of the Dreaming lapped around Sinoval's ankles as he looked at the abandoned room. The Dreaming had survived the bombardment, somehow. The Castle of the Dreaming was located in the mountains north of Yedor, an ancient place, predating Valen, predating even the warring of the castes. It was a place few understood. "Empty," he whispered. "I came here... just before I left. I came here seeking answers. I did not receive any." Kats was looking around in what might have been horror. She had never been here before. Sinoval had been here twice, and each time it had changed his life. "What was it like?" she asked. "This place... it's dead. There's no life here." "No, nothing but broken dreams and lost souls. Whoever named this place had a better sense of humour than many." "Why here? Of all the places to hold a Nafak'cha, why here?" "Where better? A place of the past, a place of the future... Typical priestling gibberish. Still... I can understand her reasons." "I don't like this place." "Nor do I. My lady... what is wrong?" "I... I did not realise until I came here... They're going to see, aren't they? All of them. They're going to see everything. All my secrets." "I suppose that is the point. We all have secrets, my lady. They are nothing to be ashamed of." She walked deeper into the room, the mists almost hiding her from Sinoval's view. He flicked a quick gaze back to where the two Soul Hunters stood on duty at the door. He tended to forget they were there, but they looked every bit as uncomfortable as Kats did. More so, if anything. Sinoval breathed out. "I have many secrets, my lady. One of them in particular... I came here to reveal. For political reasons, but that is hardly the spirit of the ceremony, is it? Very well, I must reveal to you a secret I have never told any other. "I did not love Deeron. I have never loved anyone, and I doubt I ever will. I... respected Deeron. I admired her. I liked her. But she saw what I would become, and she was afraid of that. If I had stopped to think, I would have been afraid of that as well. "All my life I have sought power, always taking a fresh step towards it. I never saw the reasons why, until I went to Cathedral. I need power because only then can I do the things I need to do. "My lady... I was never meant to rule. There was no divine destiny, no ordination by Valen. I rule now because I made myself rule, and for no other reason." Kats' figure came to a halt, dimly visible through the mist. "Thank you," she whispered. "It is my turn, I think... I owe you a secret." "Only if you feel you can. You have already given me more than I could ask of you, my lady. I would not ask you for your secrets as well." "No... no, you... deserve to know. While I... was his... prisoner... Kalain tortured me. He made me scream, he made me beg, he made me confess to murder, to treason. And... I did. I told him everything he wanted to hear, praying that it would make him happy with me, for a while at least. I begged to him, I flung myself at his feet... I even begged Kozorr to help me. "I had always thought of myself as a strong person, but I was obviously not strong enough. Perhaps if..." "No, my lady. It would not matter how strong you were. No one can resist torture like that. No one." "But... perhaps..." "No!" Sinoval strode through the mists to her side. He gently placed his hands on her arms. "You endured, my lady. You endured because you knew that for the sake of your caste, you had to. You are one of the strongest people I know." She smiled, and looked up at him. "Thank you, my lord," she whispered. "It appears both our secrets are out in the open." He nodded, dazzled by the brilliance of her eyes. "It seems they are." Sinoval stepped back from her just as Delenn entered the room. He could see her as she walked in, and he caught her momentary gasp. She had her own memories of this place, it seemed. The Starkiller was behind her, and another human behind him. Sinoval felt a brief surge of contempt. Polluting this place with humans... Just how far had the priestlings fallen? Delenn ignored the presence of the Soul Hunters by the door, although she could not have failed to notice them. She came further into the room, and gave a short nod of her head in Sinoval's direction. He returned it. "Thank you for coming," she said softly. "It was a pleasure," he replied, not insincerely. There was a silence, as the Starkiller stepped up next to Delenn. The Soul Hunters began moving around them to stand next to Sinoval. Delenn sighed softly. "I understand we are to begin with a secret," Sinoval said. "Each of us must share a secret we have never told to any other." Delenn nodded. "Then let me start. There is something about me you do not know... none of you. Something I have kept secret ever since the attack on Earth." "There are many secrets from that time," said another voice. One paternal, and old, filled with wisdom and strength. In every way the voice Sinoval could have wished for the one in whose name he had always acted. But this was not the voice of Valen, and as the false prophet stepped inside, Sinoval's face twisted into a contemptuous sneer. "You came here, imposter?" he asked. "This is not your place. Run back to your Vorlon masters." Delenn and Sheridan seemed surprised. Perhaps this was not their doing, then. Behind the false Valen walked another... a human woman. Sinoval did not recognise her. "We need nine, is that not so? A legacy from the ceremony taught to you by Valen. Now we are nine." Delenn and Sinoval exploded at once. "We cannot have those monsters - " "Not a place for Vorlon toys - " Valen silenced them both. "We are nine here now. This is right. This is a time and a place for secrets to be revealed, for the truth to be revealed, for many things to come to light. My secret, and yours, Sinoval the Cursed, and yours, Blessed Delenn. "Know this: I am Valen. I am who I claim to be, and yet I am not. My secret is that once, I was human. My name was Jeffrey Sinclair." The mists grew colder. To be continued... * * * * * Babylon 5 and all related characters are owned by and copyright of jms and / or Warner Bros. I am making no money out of writing this and am doing so purely for pleasure From: "Gareth Williams" Subject: The One and the Nine, part 2A of 4 Date: Fri, 28 Aug 1998 10:48:32 +0100 Babylon 5: A Dark, Distorted Mirror Phase Three - A Line in the Sand Hi people, here's the next part of my parallel universe saga. Major Spoilers for In The Beginning. Feedback always welcome, etc. etc. Legal Disclaimer: B5 and all related characters are owned by and copyright of jms and / or Warner Bros. I am making no money out of writing this and am doing so purely for pleasure. * * * * * Chapter One - The One and the Nine, Part 2A of 4 [AT] by Gareth Williams, (lwa97gdw@Sheffield.ac.uk) He is Valen, he is the saviour of the Minbari, their prophet of the past, their light in the future. They always knew he would return... one day, but if only they could have seen the truth. He is Jeffrey Sinclair, he is the last witness of a doomed Earth, the last human to see his world before it died. They thought he was dead... if only they could have seen the truth. His life is unknown to him, his future set out clearer than his past. There are names, to be sure, and sometimes even faces. A brother, a lover, men under his command. They are coming to him clearer now, much clearer. A simple consequence of his waking? Or something more? Catherine. A name. And a face. And a... feeling. Catherine... That name he knows should be important to him, but not why. Other names are so much clearer. Marrain and Parlonn, who had found him and betrayed him; Derannimer, whom he would love and be loved by, until his passing; Zathras, who would be his guide; Nukenn and Rashok, who would record his legacy; Nemain, who would learn from his teachings... He can see them all. He can see Marrain screaming as the Starfire Wheel destroys his flesh and his mind. He can see Parlonn's desperate suicide, to save his soul. He can see Derannimer bearing his child. He can see... so many things. So many things, so many faces, so many names. His future, his past... what does it matter? There is just one face he cannot recall, the one he would most like to recall... not as a Minbari, but as a human. His own. * * * * * * * "More lies," snapped Sinoval. He would be antagonistic, thought Delenn absently. He would have to be. Sinoval was the archetypal warrior - strong, arrogant, brash and convinced he was the only answer to Minbar's problems. And, up until the moment of Valen's return, he had been. Also, he hated the Vorlons, and Valen had returned accompanied by one. "How do you know that?" asked Lyta heatedly, stepping out from behind Valen. "How do you know he's lying?" Lyta was... feeling strange. Lyta and Delenn shared an intense bond, which joined them on a spiritual level. Neither quite understood it, and yet each welcomed it. Each was in her own way alone, and the comfort of their bond helped them both. Now that Delenn had found comfort with John, she had almost forgotten about Lyta. That lapse had led to some unusual consequences, it seemed. "I am who I say I am," replied Valen... or at least, the one who called himself Valen. Delenn was not thinking about him. She did not want to. Not at all. Behind Sinoval, Kats shifted, trying to get a better look at the man claiming to be her saviour. Her gaze was curious, her bearing not threatening. Delenn did not know her well, but she had heard of her actions after the bombardment. Kats might just be the only means to safeguard Sinoval's soul. "Then prove yourself!" demanded Sinoval. "When Marrain met you at the place where you brought light to the darkness, what were the first words you said to him?" "You can't expect him to..." Lyta began, but Valen raised a hand. "I told him that I was never in darkness, for I brought my light with me, as do we all. Even when Marrain died, he still had some light within him." Sinoval looked shaken. "Where did Marrain die?" he asked, softer now. "I do not know. I never saw him again after he fell from the Starfire Wheel." "Sinoval," Delenn said wearily, finding the courage to speak at last. "Cease the questioning. He is who he claims to be." He shook his head. "I do not believe that. I cannot believe that. He is everything I could ever have imagined Valen to be, but there is... no depth. No age. He might as well be a lifeless statue. His flesh and bone might as well be wood and stone. There is nothing within him, none of the age, none of the wisdom, none of the strength Valen possessed. He is just a Vorlon puppet." "No," Valen said, speaking in the same soft, paternal tone he often used. "I am no puppet, nor am I lifeless. I am Valen, or... to speak more accurately. I will be Valen." Delenn breathed in sharply, closing her eyes. Sinoval cast his hard, dark gaze, first on Valen, then on Delenn. "Everything is a circle, and everything returns to the beginning... in time. I once was Jeffrey Sinclair, a human. I will be Valen, a Minbari. In time." "You knew," Sinoval said to Delenn. "You... you tried to warn us... before the assault on Proxima Three. You... knew..." She nodded. "While I was being... hurt... once... I had a vision. A revelation, of sorts. I saw Valen, as I had when I was a child. I knew then. It was only later that I became certain. I saw Valen again, not as a vision. It was after that, that I made my decision to change. I knew at last where our souls were... who were the other half of our souls... who was the other half of my soul." Her hand sought John's and clasped it tightly. He stepped up beside her. "You tried to warn us... to warn me. Ah... so then, Valen, what is your secret? That is why we are here, are we not? To share secrets?" "We are here to be reborn," came the reply. "And a rebirth cannot occur unless the old life is gone. Share your secrets, Sinoval. You know where this begins." "My secrets? And you will share yours? A chance for purging? Old guilts, old worries, old secrets." "New souls." Delenn nodded slowly. Yes, the purging of old secrets. She too had her old secrets to purge. Far too many of them. "You know where this begins, Sinoval." "Of course I do," he replied. "The same place it ends. Shakiri." And as he spoke the images began to flow, appearing around them. The white mists fled and were replaced by the sight of metal floor, of high roof, of darkness all around, of a Sinoval, younger, and prouder, and darker... * * * * * * * Sinoval's Past I have not seen Shakiri in ten cycles. I will never see him again. And yet I see him still, still remember the timbre of his voice, the power of his stance, the strength in his bearing. The man was a fool, and an arrogant one as well. He was a fool who does not see that he is a fool, and that makes him the most dangerous fool of all. Warleader, Satai, he had ambitions to go farther still. He would never have achieved them, of course, but he had ambitions all the same. He was the one who had met Deathwalker, many years before. He was the one who had offered her sanctuary. He was the one who would later introduce me to her. But that was later, of course. For now, he was speaking to me... on board the Trigati, as our forces neared Earth. We had swept past the outer colonies of their... your... solar system. They were unnecessary. We were ready at last, ready to take the fight to your homeworld. We... believed we were right. We knew we were right. Our leaders told us so. Don't flinch, Delenn. If I am to share my... guilt in this, then so must you. We were told that the war was right, and just, and holy. People died in the pursuit of that holy ambition. If it was not holy, then all those deaths were for nothing. But that is beside the point. We were nearing Earth. I was on board the Trigati of course, captaining her. She was our flagship, built after the loss of the Dralaphi. She was one of the greatest ships we would ever build. I was fully aware of how important my ship was, and of how many wondered at my leading her. I did not wonder. I knew I deserved it. I remember that day. Shakiri had come over from the Valentha, having just been in closed meetings with some of the Grey Council. I presumed Morann and Coplann. They had after all been Satai longer than he. They knew what he did not - the impetus for the war was dying. Many were questioning its justification. Shakiri would not stand for that, and neither would I... but for very different reasons. "You are loyal, are you not?" he asked, his first words to me on entering my private chambers, unannounced. Shakiri was a most unusual Satai. I was insulted... I will admit it, and I told him so. I have always been loyal. Always. "Of course you are," he said. "You are a good man, the rising star. Some say it will not be long before you rise to Satai." "I will rise higher," I replied. I knew I would, even then. "Perhaps, but not for ten cycles at least... Anyway, there are things you must know before that day, before the final stage in this... 'holy war' is concluded. The other castes... they are weak, Sinoval. The workers are nothing, and the priestlings are fools. The future of Minbar is ours. With this war over, we will take it. We will destroy these Earthers and restore our place in the galaxy. Any who dare oppose us, we will crush. We have been silent too long." "Would that include the Enemy, then?" I had heard the rumours. Branmer had spoken to me of Lenonn and his wishes. He sounded like a wise man. I am sorry I never managed to meet him. "The Enemy? Pfah! Legends, only. They are long gone. No, I speak of other races, the Centauri, the Narns... all the others... We will rule them all. We are older than they, wiser than they, stronger than they. It is only right that we should rule." "Perhaps. Why are you telling me this, Satai?" "You are a loyal Minbari, Sinoval, and a loyal warrior. What I spoke of... that is our destiny, and you can be there as a part of it. Your clan leaders... they have spoken to me, and they have decided there is something you should see, someone you should meet." "Satai, we will be approaching the Earthers' homeworld soon. I am needed here." "The Earthers are no threat. This ship can run itself for a short while. Hor Alyt Kalain is capable enough. Come. This must be done now, before the battles and the aftermath consume us all." "Who is it you want me to meet?" "Someone who will give us what we need. Everything that we will ever need, Sinoval. Only three people alive know of her existence. Be the fourth. "Come. Meet your destiny." * * * * * * * The images faded. Sinoval looked around at his eight companions. Delenn and Sheridan looked aghast. Kats looked... hurt, somehow. The other two humans seemed to have little idea of the significance of the decade-old conversation he had just related. Sinoval caught Delenn's gaze. Accusing, hurt, angry. "I stand by my decisions," he said. "All of them." "I do not blame you," she said, but her eyes said something very different. He shrugged. "As Shakiri said, only three people then knew of Jha'dur's existence. Shakiri himself, and the two clan leaders of the Wind Swords. All three would soon be dead. Shakiri killed at the Battle of Mars, his death providing me with the means to claim the position he had prophesied for me. The leaders of my clan died soon after that - one at the return of the Shadow ship a few months later. The other died... of an unfortun- ate illness." "How unfortunate?" asked the Starkiller, his eyes taut. "I had nothing to do with it. I believe Jha'dur may have had. It was in her interests to be... undiscovered for a while longer. She believed I would be all she needed. Perhaps she was right." "And yet you killed her," Delenn said. "That must account for something." "Perhaps. Anyway, Shakiri and I arrived on the Valentha and..." "Wait," spoke up Valen. "Later. Each of us has stories and secrets. In order, I suppose mine would begin now. And then yours, Delenn." "As you wish," Sinoval said, with a mocking bow. "Begin." "I will. We... we were afraid, of course, but there was more to it than that. There was a sense of... * * * * * * * Sinclair's Past ... a sense of inevitability. It wasn't a surprise after all. We always knew you'd reach Earth some day. We'd been subconsciously hoping for a miracle all the while, but some of us were beginning to accept that it wasn't going to come. The President had made a speech. I... don't remember all of what she said, but some of us needed to survive. Some of us had to survive. If we died, then so did everything that was ours... Marilyn Monroe, Lao Tzu, Einstein, Aristophanes... everything. It's funny. I can remember their names, but I don't know who some of those people are. I was going to help defend Earth. I knew I had to. I was... a fighter pilot, in one of the Starfury squadrons. I had my sense of... purpose there. I thought that if I died then at least it would mean something. Catherine didn't see it quite that way. Catherine... I wish I could remember what she looked like. I wish I could remember anything. What she said, how she talked, anything... All I know is her name, and yet... It doesn't matter. We... argued, the two of us. She wanted to have a go at escaping. I don't know if she managed it or not. She took a ship to Mars before we lost contact with the planet. I... hope... she escaped. I don't know. I readied myself, thinking about our enemy, who they were, why they were doing this, why anyone would want to destroy us. Why... * * * * * * * Valen, or perhaps Jeffrey Sinclair, shook his head as the images faded. They had been unclear and indistinct anyway. Himself as a human... more or less. A woman who was little more than a shape and a voice and the hint of a scent. Delenn was looking at him, her heart in her mouth. She knew now. It as all piecing together in her mind. Everything. Sinoval had been right, not about everything, but about enough. She had known, yes... but so had he. "I... I should say something now," she said softly. "I don't really know where to begin." "Where else?" asked Sinoval. "With the Vorlons, of course." She nodded. "Yes. With the Vorlons..." * * * * * * * Delenn's Past The first time I saw them was soon after the start of the war. I had not been sure what to expect. There was precious little information available even to me, on the Council. They were little more than legends. Dukhat had been in prior contact with them, but he had kept that knowledge secret from everyone, including me. I discovered their presence only after his death, when it was too late too heed their advice. Valen, before he went beyond, had left a series of prophecies. Of the reunification of our souls... of the missing halves of our souls, of fire and darkness, of many things. I had been studying them, as much as I could, but to many they were nothing but a curiosity. Even the mystery of our missing souls was ignored by most, outright scorned by some. Few cared. During the war, I had stopped caring. I had seen my path set out, and I had stepped from it, and all attempts to step back on to it had failed. Only the Vorlons seemed determined to set me back on my way. No, Sinoval. Whatever you think of them, the Vorlons are our friends. I trust them. Yes, later I will discover why you do not, I am sure. I went to them once more, seeking solace as we approached Earth, seeking words of wisdom, of guidance. I was alone. I had been alone ever since Lenonn had died. I slowly stepped into Dukhat's sanctum. Someone... someone had once told me that the future lay within there. If only that had been the case. The room was dark, haunted, even tormented. A shadow moved around me. My heart skipped a beat. "Are you still here?" I whispered. I had not seen them for nearly three years. There was an eternity of silence, and as I turned to leave, my heart heavy, my footsteps impossible, words of music came from out of the darkness. I spoke to them, pouring out all my failures. The war was everything then, there was nothing else. All our dreams, all Dukhat's dreams... they were all lost. We were continuing with the war because we did not know how to stop it. And then the Vorlon, and then... Kosh... spoke to me. I started. "What?" I can still hear that single word. I wish I had understood better then. Just a little. A simple enough message, but with the Vorlon fondness for riddles and enigma. I left, not knowing where or what or why... Morann had once told me that whenever we spoke, all my words were questions. I told him that I had nothing else to say. Never had that been truer than at that moment. I was paying so little attention as I left the sanctum that I did not notice the two warriors I almost walked into. * * * * * * * Sinoval The truth points to itself, hmm? Perhaps not. I did not know then where Shakiri was taking me. In truth, I was growing more than a little annoyed with him. We were embarking on the climactic mission of this war. Surely there was no time for diversions of this nature? Still, he was Satai, and my superior, and I owed him respect. Nowhere near the same degree of respect I showed Morann or Coplann, who had earned it a hundred times over, but still, something was owed to Shakiri. He had taken me from the Trigati to the Grey Council's ship. For what reason, I could not imagine. Branmer was not there - he was co-ordinating the campaign from his Dogati, and most of the major Fane leaders were occupied elsewhere. It turned out that Jha'dur had headquarters aboard the Grey Council's ship, closely guarded by Shakiri. He trusted her only a little more than I ever did. My attention was diverted, however, only for a moment. A door I did not know opened, and a woman rushed out. One I recognised. I had been summoned before the Grey Council once before, to receive a commendation for my triumph during the complicated ground battle on the Flinn worlds. I remembered the young Satai who had spoken with the authority of a God and the compassion of a healer. What Satai Delenn had seen that occasioned her to leave a room so hurriedly, unshed tears in her eyes, I could not know. She did not seem to see us, and rushed out past us. My footsteps paused, caught in the grip of destiny, perhaps? My eyes flickered and I caught one tiny glimpse into the room she had left. I saw something move there. I felt something touch my mind, gently. I heard a voice, the sound the wind makes when it caresses a barren and deadened landscape. I did not understand then, and I did not understand for a long time afterwards. Only when Derhan unveiled his discoveries in Valen's prophecies did I understand, and then I tried to ignore it. I still remain unconvinced. After all, things could have gone so very differently, and what use prophecy then? Shakiri had not noticed any of this, and as the door closed, I felt the strange touch of destiny leave me. He turned back to me, finally seeing that I had stopped. "You cannot let your future be delayed simply by a pretty woman," he said to me sternly. "If you have designs on Satai Delenn, then..." "No," I replied firmly. A touch too firmly. I was relieved that he had so mistaken the reason for my delay, but not so relieved as to forget what I had heard. "No, of course not. I merely... recognised her. That is all." "Well and good. If you have plans for marriage, then I am sure they can wait. Besides, you would be far better with one from your own caste. Come. Time waits for no one." "No," I muttered. "No, it does not." * * * * * * * The Dreaming fell silent for a moment, all eyes focussed on Sinoval. He fell silent, meeting each and every gaze with a calm challenge. Delenn and Sheridan were shocked. Sheridan's human companion looked uncomfort- able. The False Valen was... resigned, but there was a hint of conflict beneath the placid exterior. The woman with him was trying very hard to avoid betraying some strong emotion. Kats was patient. Even the two Soul Hunters looked slightly interested. Finally the silence was broken. "What happened then?" asked Sheridan's companion. He had the bearing of a warrior, but the voice of a priestling. Not the best of combinations, Sinoval mused. "I went to see Jha'dur. That is it." "That is not it," Delenn said quickly. "What did she say to you? What bargain did you make with her?" "No bargain. No deal. I simply talked with her. More questions about my ambitions, my loyalties." "No bargain?" "No." Sinoval was lying, and most of those here suspected as much, but that did not matter. He had more than one secret, many more, and Jha'dur was not the one he had come here to purge. The deal he had made with her then had been but one step on the road to his ascension. "What about the Vorlons?" That was the human woman, the one Sinoval did not know. He disliked and distrusted her instinctively. She stank of Vorlon, and that naturally riled him. What dealings she could have with them he did not know, and nor did he want to know. He would first have to untangle their dealings with his people before turning to their involvement with others. "Nothing. At least, nothing yet. That belongs to a later part of the story. The next part brings us up to the assault on Earth..." "The Battle of the Line," whispered the False Valen, this... Jeffrey Sinclair. "I... remember it. All of it." Sinoval extended an arm in mocking invitation. "Then perhaps you would like to take up the story." "Like to? No... never again, but we came here to purge secrets, did we not? You more than most, but I also. If this is to be realised, then I must tread my own paths of the past. "It is strange. I forget the names of the people who shared my life for so long, but I remember... * * * * * * * Sinclair's Past - The Battle of the Line ... the sight of the ships. All of them. So many. So fast. We did not know how they had got to Earth so quickly. There were ships out along the borders of our solar system. They must have been sidelined. We prayed that they would get back in time - those of us who did not secretly believe they had been destroyed. There was a strange sense of madness creeping over all of us. A... a willingness to die. A resignation to the fact that there was nothing else. A determination. I remember... praying... to someone. I cannot remember who, or the words of the prayer, or even where this last, desperate prayer was uttered. I just... cannot remember. There are some names I can remember however. Mitchell. David Macintyre. Andrew Denmark. I know their names and yet not the name of the woman I loved. We did not see the Minbari fleet arrive. One minute they were not there, the next they were. They appeared all around us, whispering winds in the darkness of space. There seemed to be no order, no strategy, nothing. They just appeared, and killed, and... * * * * * * * Sinoval snorted angrily. "Of course there was a strategy," he muttered. "I helped organise it." The False Valen looked up at him, a child-like confusion in his expres- sion. The link to his memories broken, he seemed almost imbecile. The vacancy in his gaze lasted only a moment or two, however. It was soon replaced by the firm, expressionless visage of a statue. Sinoval shook his head sadly. As he had thought. Not the true Valen. Whatever his claims, or Delenn's claims, this could not be the true Valen. "What do you remember of the Line, then?" Sheridan asked, speaking carefully. There was anger in his words, not surprisingly. Sinoval flicked his gaze to Delenn, whose head was down, and from her to the False Valen. "It was... a glorious climax to our holy war. The ending of a crusade. A chance for us all to prove our worth before Valen." "A chance for you to wipe out a people, you mean!" That was Sheridan's companion. His second. "And you have never fought in a war you believed to be just because your leaders told you it was so?" The human shook his head angrily. "In truth many of us were... doubting the wisdom of the war. I was not one of them, I will admit. But others... Satai Morann was tired. He had been there since the beginning, after all. As had Coplann. Shakir i... he saw only his own gains in it. Branmer... he too was tired. He did not believe that the war was right, but he did believe that he had a duty to fight the war to the best of his abilities. He was a good man." "He was," Delenn said hollowly. "As circumstances were, the war was coming to an end. Whatever our doubts, whatever our... personal feelings... it was coming to an end, and our final attack was as well-planned as any we had ever organised. Branmer and I ensured it was so. "But somewhere along the way, things began to go wrong..." * * * * * * * For the third time since their entrance to this dead Hall, the mists around them came to life. The sight of ships flying across the skies, raining energy upon each other. The Minbari flew with graceful elegance and timeless beauty. The human ships acted with a determination almost unheard-of, a dedication rarely matched. "There," whispered the person who was at one and the same time Valen and Jeffrey Sinclair. "There we are." Voices came rising over the silence. Voices of those long dead. "They're everywhere!" "Can't stop 'em!" "My God, they came out of nowhere!" "They're locking on!" And a voice that might once have been that of the one who now claimed to be Valen spoke out across the panorama. "Mitchell! Break off! Break off!" One human ship, almost identical to any other, was torn apart in a blaze of fire. A wordless scream echoed through the Hall. No one was left unmoved by it. * * * * * * * "I remember," whispered the one who now claimed to be Valen. "Mitchell, I remember you." There were no tears in his eyes. * * * * * * * From: "Gareth Williams" Subject: The One and the Nine, part 2B Date: Fri, 28 Aug 1998 10:50:43 +0100 Delenn I was watching this. All of it. I could not take my eyes from the scene. They were fighting even though they knew it was futile. I could not escape the scenes I had set in motion. Something was rattling inside my mind, but I could not recall what. Some clue, some hint... something... something just beyond my grasp of comprehension. I had a sudden urge to see one of these humans... a member of this race which Dukhat had advised us to contact, a member of the race which had killed him, a member of the race we had dedicated our lives to destroying. "They fight bravely," I said, my heart torn by the words. Some acknow- ledgement at least was due to them. Something. That was the least I could offer. "They cannot harm our ships, but they continue to try." Coplann, to my side, shrugged. "Whether they fight or not, they know they will die anyway. So really, is this bravery, or simple desperation?" I looked at him, wondering at the ways of the warriors, so fixed on their own sense of courage that they could negate so easily the courage of others. "Perhaps they are the same thing," I said firmly. The idea struck me, as if from beyond. The urge to see one of them. Perhaps a last effort to prevent this. If only we could see what it was we had almost destroyed. Perhaps then we could avert this. If only we could see one of them. "We should bring one of them aboard for questioning." The words seemed to be coming from outside myself. I did not credit myself with them. It was more as if they were flowing through me, and I was just a conduit. "If our next step is the final assault on their world, we must know their defences." Coplann seemed surprised, but he was the only other person paying atten- tion to what was happening. Even Morann could not watch the scene with equanimity. Only Shakiri was watching, and his eyes were filled only with glory and triumph. "Very well, Delenn," Coplann said, uncaring. "Choose, but quickly. We are fast running out of candidates." I looked out around me, wondering who, and where, praying silently for Valen to guide me. Wishing at that moment for guidance more than I ever had for anything else at any time in my life. I did not know where... * * * * * * * The False Valen stiffened as the images faded. The red-haired human started and tentatively touched his arm. "I remember," he said again. "If I'm going out... * * * * * * * "... I'm taking you bastards with me!" The words hung in the air. All eyes turned to the twin visions, as two minds, two memories took form in the mists all around them. One human, one Minbari. One Starfury soared forward, seeking the Minbari warship before it, on its way to a chance attack that was meant to change forever after the destiny of both races. One Satai began to raise her arm to point towards the small craft which filled her vision. One voice filled the room, a voice which called Sinoval to wince, and Delenn to start. And history changed. Destiny faded. All that was, and is, and yet may be was altered, irrevocably, eternally, forever. The pendulum swung. Destiny moved. Delenn chose. * * * * * * * The Past And twelve years ago, as history changed, the two Vorlons in Dukhat's secret chamber, who once had been called the future, realised in that one, fateful moment, that the future they knew now belonged elsewhere, and a new future was theirs. And the seeds of a bargain were struck. To Be Continued... From: "Gareth Williams" Subject: The One and the Nine, part 3A Date: Fri, 4 Sep 1998 15:45:11 +0100 Babylon 5: A Dark, Distorted Mirror Phase Three - A Line in the Sand Hi people. Spoiler Warning: This chapter contains Spoilers from In The Beginning. Legal Disclaimer: B5 and all related characters are owned by and copyright of jms and / or Warner Bros. I am making no money out of writing this and am doing so purely for pleasure. * * * * * Chapter One - The One and the Nine, Part 3 of 4 [AT] [AC] by Gareth Williams (lwa97gdw@Sheffield.ac.uk) "It was not meant to be such a terrible thing. The reasons at the start were many, and few. Anger. Hatred. Error. So many things could have changed in so many ways had there been but a mere moment between question and answer, between choosing and choice. "I suppose that must sound like nothing more than a platitude. I under- stand why it must seem so, but it is the truth. None of us had any idea at the time... None of us would for many years after. Some of us still do not. "I could hardly bear to be present, and yet there was a tiny cord of hope that made me think I could undo what I had begun. The words of the Vorlons were foremost in my mind. *The truth points to itself.* Perhaps there could be a miracle. Perhaps something would happen that none of us had imagined. "There was no miracle." Delenn's words fell on a hollow and silent Hall. The cold mists of the Dreaming lapped around her, and but for the gentle pressure of John's fingers on hers, and the soft touch of Lyta in her mind, she was alone. The images returned. * * * * * * * The Hall of the Grey Council, the Past Delenn stretched out her arm. "Very well, then." Coplann's words hung in the air. "Choose, but quickly. We are fast running out of candidates." The other Satai did not seem to care, except Shakiri. He cared too much. A ship caught her eye as the Vorlon's words returned to her. *The truth points to itself.* Her arm rose towards that ship, but a sudden blast of energy tore the fighter from its course, sending it spinning away and out of her sight. There was another, leading a small group of similar ships. That did not feel right, but it was there. "That one," she said, damning a planet to destruction. "Very well," acknowledged Coplann. In the circle of light at the centre of the nine, in the place that had once been Dukhat's, there appeared an image. Sinoval, dressed in sharp, black warrior garb. He made a perfunctory gesture of respect. "We have Earth in our sights," he reported. "The Trigati is behind their defences and those... satellites have been destroyed. Do we proceed with the orbital bombardment?" Delenn looked away, unwilling to recognise his face. She did not want to be the one to give this order. Anyone else, but not her. The hesitation was clearly annoying Sinoval. He had ever been one to know his next action before he had finished this one. "My orders?" he asked. "Shai Alyt Branmer and the Dogati have destroyed the last capital ship remaining. At least one of them has fled. Their homeworld is within sight. What are our orders?" The Grey Council was silent, staring out across the skies. "Satai," barked Sinoval. "Shai Alyt Branmer may be willing to jump at your every beck and call, but I am not. I repeat. Their homeworld is in our sights. What are your orders?" Such arrogance was unwelcome and presumptuous, but Sinoval would be able to get away with far more. He was the rising star of the warrior caste and they would forgive him much. And if the worker or religious castes objected? Well, then, the warriors were in ascendance at the moment. As they never stopped reminding everyone, it was they who were fighting and dying in this war. All eyes waited on Delenn. She would not give the order. She could not. Shakiri threw back his hood, his harsh, proud face almost glowing above his neat, sharply-pointed beard. "Destroy the planet, Sinoval. Begin orbital bombardment." The image of Sinoval bowed. "Yes, Satai Shakiri." "No!" snapped another Satai, an old, old man, with a fire which belied his fragile appearance. Jenimer, speaking before this audience for virtually the first time since the death of Dukhat. Jenimer's old, wise eyes looked around the circle. Shakiri was staring at him, the others were silent. Even Delenn was silent. "No," Jenimer repeated. "Remain in high orbit, and maintain combat readiness. We must be ready for an attack from behind." "Our defences are more than adequate to deal with any further threat these Earthers can throw at us," snapped Sinoval. "There is nothing to worry about..." "As there was nothing to worry about with the Black Star," muttered Jenimer. "Maintain readiness for any counterattack." Sinoval's image looked at Shakiri. The warrior Satai nodded once and Sinoval bowed. "At your command, Satai," he spat, venom in every syllable. "That one troubles me," remarked Jenimer absently. "There is too much pride in him." "And since when was pride a bad thing?" asked Shakiri. "He is intelligent, strong, talented... He will go far, I am sure of it." A white-robed acolyte appeared hesitantly and whispered something to Delenn. "The human is aboard," she announced to the Council. "Shall he be brought before us?" "By all means," Shakiri said. "Let us have this madness of yours over with, Delenn." "There can be no harm in seeing what we have been fighting against," Morann said. "It is sometimes good to remember those we have been forced to kill." Shakiri laughed. "Have you become a priestling, Morann? Very well, let us see this Earther. Let Delenn satisfy her curiosity and Morann his religion. And then... well, and then we can destroy them utterly and return to our home. Justice will have been served." "And where is the justice here?" Jenimer said softly. "No, Dukhat would not have wanted this." "Dukhat is dead, old man! And his ways are dead with him!" Delenn turned her gaze from Shakiri's hate-filled rantings, to the white- robed acolytes who led in the first human most of the Grey Council had so far seen. He looked... unremarkable. Delenn sighed. The miracle she had hoped for had not come. Surely there could be no salvation, no redemption from this pitiful figure? He was saying something, speaking. Delenn alone of the Grey Council knew something of the human's language - learned from Centauri mediators. She heard his rambled words, and could find no salvation therein. "My name... is Andrew Denmark... Flight lieutenant... Serial number... My name... is... Andrew... Denmark..." * * * * * * * Sinclair's Past I had tried to ram the great ship before me. I had no idea of what ship it was, of who it contained, of its significance. All I knew was that it had destroyed my friends, and that I was going to die. My attempt at suicide had failed. A stray blast, not uncommon in a battle, struck me off course. It blew up my engines, and affected my navigation. I was blown away, my enhanced speed only taking me further from my course. Still conscious, I spun there, helpless to move, to breathe, to do anything but watch. Radio was destroyed, navigation was destroyed, engines were down. I hung there, suspended in space, and watched as the pitiful remnants of my fleet were destroyed. * * * * * * * The Hall of the Grey Council, the Past The human kept repeating those same words, over and over again. Only Delenn could understand them, and she had stopped listening. The tortures inflicted on the human were many, ranging from the subtle to the direct. None of it mattered. None of the Council actually wanted information from this... Andrew... Denmark. They wanted only to hurt him. Finally, Delenn stormed from the Hall. "The truth points to itself," she whispered, once she was sure she was out of earshot of the acolytes. "The truth points to itself. There is no truth here. There is nothing. We have failed. Valen's Name, where did it all go wrong?" She looked up sharply, hearing heavy footsteps coming down the Hall. It was Sinoval again, a dark fury in his expression. Delenn straightened herself, and blocked the entrance to the Hall. Sinoval was in many ways the worst of the new breed of warrior caste. Concerned with glory and honour over what glory and honour were meant to serve. He made another gesture of respect, this one even more perfunctory than before. "I request an audience with the Grey Council," he said. "Why have you left your command?" Delenn asked firmly. "Because there is little to command," he replied. "The Trigati is sitting there. There are no Earther ships, there are no Earther satellites. We are floating above a defenceless world, and I am wondering why my orders are to sit and wait. If that is what the Grey Council requests of me, then I may as well be replaced by a statue and return to Minbar! You have been refusing to answer my requests, and you have been refusing to justify your orders. Hor Alyt Kalain is more than capable of keeping the Trigati in high orbit. As indeed, is any member of my crew. "Tell me, Satai, am I to receive any justification, any rationalisation... anything at all?" Delenn fixed him with her darkest stare. "Have you quite finished?" she asked sternly. "I am not intimidated by power of rank," he replied. "I respect only power of the soul. I wish entry." "You are to return to your ship and remain there until we issue orders to Shai Alyt Branmer, who will then pass them on to you. You..." Delenn started, as Morann came up behind her. Sinoval looked at the warrior Satai with what might have been a hint of respect. "Delenn," Morann said carefully, not seeming to notice that Sinoval was there. "Delenn, there is... something you should see..." "Report to me if you wish," she replied. "I have seen more death than anyone should ever have to see. I will see no more." "Delenn, I..." "If you wish to conduct the final destruction of Earth, I will not watch. I will..." "Delenn! There is something... unusual. Something that we cannot explain. We were using the Triluminary to probe the human and... We... discovered... something." There was something in his voice. A hint that whatever he had discovered had unnerved him. Something unexpected, a surprise. Delenn's heart began to quicken. Perhaps here was the miracle she had prayed for. The truth points to itself. Perhaps it did here, at last. "Show me," she said, gesturing for Morann to precede her into the Hall. Behind them, uninvited and unbidden, but coming anyway, was Sinoval. The seven Satai there were gathered in a knot, whispering frantically to each other. The human was paralysed in the centre of the circle. He was continuing to ramble the same message. Shakiri was looking at him with a distinct and almost palpable hatred. "What is it?"Delenn asked. "What have you found?" "We were using the Triluminary," Morann explained. "A means of verifying the thoughts within his mind. But..." He swallowed harshly. "But it was blocked. We believe this man is a psi. A telepath." Delenn started. "That is not possible, surely." The truth points to itself? "Telepathy is a gift from Valen, and the Gods of old. How would the humans...?" "The Triluminary is faulty," proclaimed Shakiri loudly. "It is a symbolic relic, nothing more. No one has used it since Valen's day. I said all along that employing a Triluminary was a fool's action." "Then we are fools," Delenn replied icily. "But I would rather be a fool than a murderer. If these humans truly have some telepathic powers, then there is more to them than we had anticipated. Fetch one of our tele- paths. This must be verified." "What matter if they have telepaths? Even the Centauri have some with psi-gifts." "We have not gone to war with the Centauri for the purpose of annihilating them," spoke up Jenimer harshly. "You do not see, Shakiri," Delenn said softly. "If humans do have some psi-powers, then they are intelligent, sentient beings. They have their own place in the galaxy. They are a part of the universe made manifest. They are not the animals we have taken them for. And if they are a part of the universe, then we may have been mistaken in our efforts to destroy them..." "The universe made manifest," Shakiri snorted. "Foolishness in the extreme." Unseen by all, Sinoval was slowly moving towards the human. He had been following the discussion, but had not cared. What matter whether this Earther was a telepath or not? Sinoval wanted to see a member of the race he had been fighting for three years. He was not sure whether to be disappointed or not. The Earther was speaking in a language Sinoval did not understand, but in the language he did understand, he had learned all he needed to know. This Earther was a warrior, not perhaps with the skill of the Minbari, but by their own, limited standards he was a warrior. There was courage in his eyes, a minor wisdom in his bearing, hints of suffering behind his expression. "My respects," Sinoval said softly. Yes, they were barbarians, yes they were murderers, and he doubted they were much more than animals, whatever Delenn said. But still, they were deserving of respect. They had fought, they had died, sometimes they had even triumphed, temporarily. They were worthy opponents, to a point at least. The Satai finally seemed to notice his presence. "What are you doing here?" Jenimer asked in a haughty voice. "Your place..." "My place is here," Sinoval said, adding a belated, "Satai." Jenimer hesitated for a moment. "I have come to ask why I am to leave my ship in high orbit and remain as a statue. Shai Alyt Branmer and I planned out this operation with you, noble Satai, in meticulous detail earlier. Why are our plans not being followed?" "There are other concerns than your hurt pride," said Delenn. "It is possible that these humans are a part of the universe's great plan. If that is so, how can we destroy them?" Sinoval's face darkened. "And if that is so, then what will you do?" Delenn hesitated only an instant. "Surrender." The Council erupted. "What?" Shakiri. "Delenn, I counsel you..." Morann. "Perhaps a treaty of sorts..." Hedronn. "Need verification..." Coplann. But none of them spoke with the authority or the power that Sinoval did. "Surrender?" He spoke the word slowly, as if tasting it for the first time. "Surrender?" "If we are guilty of destroying an aspect of the universe before us, we have no other option. We will deserve the shame, and the guilt that come with our actions." "Surrender?" Sinoval continued. "And will you be the one, Satai Delenn, to stand before my crew and tell them that they have been fighting and dying these last three years for nothing? Will you be the one to face the husband and daughter of Alyt Tashina from the Dralaphi... to tell them that her death was a mistake? A misunderstanding? A clerical error?" "We are not perfect, Sinoval," Delenn said, slightly taken aback by his verbal onslaught. "We..." "You told us that this war was a holy one! You told us that this war was right, was justified, was virtuous! They killed Dukhat, you told us. An unprovoked and murderous attack, you told us! And now... to complete your plan of vengeance, for the past three years we have given up everything. "And it was all a mistake? No, Satai. Never a mistake. "I will not stand before my crew, before the friends of fallen comrades, before the souls of those departed, and tell them that their deaths were meaningless and we are to surrender. "I swear before all nine of you, before the One and the Nine, before Valen himself... I will take my own life before I give any such order." A shocked silence behind him, Sinoval stormed from the Hall. Mere seconds after he had gone, Shakiri began to laugh. * * * * * * * "And that's what you really felt?" Sheridan's words cut through the icy silence of the mist. Sinoval looked at him, his dark eyes patient, and far from surprised. "It was. It still is." "And you never thought about who you were killing... what you were doing?" "Of course I did. I understood completely. I was doing as my conscience and as my loyalty dictated. I could not stand before my crew and order them to surrender. I would not give any such order." "Well," Lyta said suddenly. "You didn't need to, did you?" "No, as it turned out, and if this means anything to you, Starkiller... I did not fire a single shot at your world. Had I been able to, I would have, but I was not." His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" "He is speaking of his fabled warrior caste honour," Delenn said softly, and somewhat sadly. "Death rather than dishonour? A sad waste. At the time, we thought your promise was nothing more than a prideful arrogance. We never imagined you would actually attempt such a thing." Sinoval chuckled. "I did not." Delenn started. "But... you returned to your ship, and the next thing we knew..." "What you know and what you think you know are very different things, Delenn. I came here to purge myself of a secret. A secret I have kept ever since then. This is the time for the sharing of secrets, is it not? "After I left the Hall of the Grey Council... * * * * * * * Sinoval's Past ... I stormed into the corridor, the acolytes scattering from my path. I imagine my expression did little to comfort them. They must have had some idea of what was happening. I almost pitied them for their ignorance. However painful the knowledge I would always rather know my course than be thrust upon it blindly. And speaking of the Vorlons... I was passing the door to the room from which I had seen Delenn emerge earlier. For some reason I stopped, pausing in my furious passage back to my own ship. I could feel the same... presence there that I had felt before. Something old, something powerful, something very, very alien. said a voice, speaking out of the darkness into my mind. I hesitated at the entrance, looking up and down the corridor. There was no one in sight. I did not want to enter. I wanted to return to my ship and tell my crew of the idiocies the Grey Council was planning to inflict upon us all. I had been away too long and had promised Kalain that I would return to them soon. And yet the voice spoke to me again, and an irresistible glamour fell across my mind. Without entirely knowing what I was doing, I stepped inside. The door closed behind me, but I did not start. My warrior's pike was at my side. I had been trained well by Derhan, and I had confidence that there was little that could stand against me. Certainly nothing here anyway. The room was dark, and my eyes had difficulty adjusting. Our race has bad vision in darkness, a weakness I had recognised a long time before, and taken steps to circumvent in my own case. I could see better than most, but it took even me a few moments to see the dark shapes moving before me. Two of them, foreboding and powerful. one of them asked me. I chuckled, their spell broken. I knew what they were now. I was certain of it. "I am Sinoval," I said. "Alyt-Captain of the warship Trigati, of the Wind Swords clan, of the Minbari warrior caste." There was a moment's pause. Even to this day, the Vorlons are the only race I know who can create music with their hesitations. That was not a compliment, by the way. one of them said at last. I did not know which one. "It is all you will have from me. Why are you here?" A hissing noise, not pleasant at all. one of them replied. A very unpleasant sound. If I were a poet, perhaps I could describe it better for you, but alas, that is not a gift I possess. And then the other one spoke to me, a kinder voice. "I believe in what I can see, touch, taste, smell and hear," I replied. "I believe in what I choose to believe. Why should I believe in you?" That was the kinder one. "I know." I shrugged. "I will find out in time. Who authorises your presence here? Satai Delenn?" The less pleasant one. "You called me here. Why?" The... I had stopped thinking of them as pleasant in any shape or form. I remembered the legends of the Vorlons and I was becoming more and more convinced that that was what I was speaking to. A pause, a long one. "My destiny is my own. I will reach it in my own time and when I am ready. I am not yours to manipulate, or anyone's. Why you are here, I do not know, and for the moment I do not care. Perhaps I will speak to you later. Perhaps not. "But let me tell you this. I know who you are, and I may even know what you want. I am impressed by neither." I shrugged again. "I am not impressed." I turned and left. Neither made any effort to stop me. * * * * * * * "Smooth," Sheridan remarked casually. "Very smooth." There was a dark bitterness in his voice. Sinoval was not surprised. Listening to the events of the past, powerless to intervene, with no story of his own to tell or secrets of his own to reveal... it must all serve as a reminder of the time when this past had been the present, and he had been equally powerless to intervene. Sinoval shrugged, a slight smile on his face. "I was angry enough with the Grey Council as it was. To meet with Vorlons and learn they were hardly the majestic benefactors of legend... I was also angry that they had been here and that the Grey Council had not seen fit to let the rest of us know." "The Grey Council did not know," Delenn said. "Only Dukhat, Lenonn and I knew, and the first two were dead by this time. Why the Vorlons chose to reveal themselves to you I do not know, but if they had not chosen to make you aware of their presence, then you would have remained in ignorance." "Perhaps. I already had my suspicions about the Vorlons, guessing that if they had not yet returned, they would do so soon. You are not the only one who can read the prophecies, Delenn." "So what happened then?" asked the False Valen's companion. "What happened to this... Andrew Denmark?" "I do not know the specifics," Delenn said. "But I was able to piece together some of what happened afterwards." "I doubt that you know the whole truth, Delenn," Sinoval said. "Shakiri later relayed a little to me. Not all by any means, but... enough... Enough to work out what really happened." * * * * * * * Sinoval After he had been interrogated by the Grey Council, including the failed use of the Triluminary, the human had been taken to a holding cell while his fate was determined. Delenn was being very vocal in arguing for surrender. Have we not already done enough? she was saying. Her opposition was largely non-existent. Morann and Coplann were having their own private doubts about the fulfilment of this war. Shakiri had attempted to speak to them in private, but they would have little to do with him. Both still saw him as an upstart, a neophyte. The workers... they were silent, as ever. Only Hedronn was speaking out at all, and he was urging moderate caution. The other priestl... I mean, Satai of the religious caste... they were divided, but were generally behind Delenn. It looked as though we were going to surrender after all. I was not aware of this at the time. I knew only that I had to return to my ship, that I had to talk to Shai Alyt Branmer, at least do something... Satai Shakiri was elsewhere, busily doing something... * * * * * * * Satai Shakiri walked through the corridors of the Valentha with the absol- ute certainty that what he was doing was right. That was the character of the warrior Satai. Never did it enter his mind that his actions might be wrong, might be immoral, evil even. He just did not care. He had spoken of his intentions to only one person, and she was not on the Grey Council, nor was she, in fact, known to the members of that august body. And yet she perhaps wielded more power on Minbar than any of them. There were two acolytes standing at the entrance to the cell which held the Earther prisoner. Shakiri recognised both of them - warrior caste acolytes. Both young, talented, ambitious. Who knew what they could become? Both bowed their heads as he arrived. Shakiri smiled slowly, and casually killed the first one with a knife blow to the neck. As he fell, blood filling his mouth and incomprehensible gurgles reaching Shakiri's ears, the second acolyte moved, reaching for his pike. He was young and strong and fast, but Shakiri had experience. The second acolyte died as quickly as the first. Shakiri casually stepped over their bodies, and opened the door to the cell. He could see the human within look up, fear in his eyes. Shakiri could not speak the human's barbarous, infantile language, but the person he had spoken to earlier did, and she had told him enough for their purposes. "Go," he said, in guttural Earther. "Go. Now." The human did not need any further prompting. He staggered from the room and fled down the corridor. He could not know why this was happening, or of the part he was playing here. All he knew was that he was being offered a chance of freedom from a race he knew only as bloodthirsty, monstrous murderers. Shakiri chuckled dryly, dropped the knife he had used to kill the acolytes, and went to raise the alarm. * * * * * * * "And Shakiri told you that?" Delenn said, looking at Sinoval. "He... told you..." "He had speculated on such a plan to me earlier. I only spoke to him once after this, after all. No, a lot of it I pieced together from what Jha'dur... Deathwalker told me. She wanted humanity destroyed as much as we did... more, if anything." "How could she have been like that?" Sheridan asked, speaking largely to himself. "So... full of hate." Sinoval shrugged. "We began the war because we lost one man. She began hers because she lost her entire race. I do not sympathise with her, but I understand her. Hatred became her only motivation for life. It was all she had to live for." "Shakiri was responsible for much of this as well," Delenn said. "It is perhaps... fortunate that he died at Mars. Otherwise what else might he have done?" Sinoval chuckled softly, and then shook his head when Delenn and the others glanced at him. "By this time," he said, returning to his story, as the images swirled up into view. "I had returned to the Trigati... and there I faced my second..." * * * * * * * From: "Gareth Williams" Subject: The One and the Nine, part 3B Date: Fri, 4 Sep 1998 15:46:47 +0100 The Bridge of the Trigati, the Past "Well?" Kalain asked. He was standing on the bridge, doing exactly as Sinoval had ordered, keeping watch, maintaining high orbit. As Sinoval had said, any of his crew would have been capable of such a duty, but they would not have liked it. Kalain was definitely not liking it. In fact, he was sounding very impatient. "We are ruled by fools and cowards," Sinoval said, as he stepped on to the bridge, letting the column of light embrace him. "They are speaking of surrender." His words would be carried all over the ship, but he did not care. Let them all know, let them all know about the people who led them, whom they had all sworn to follow into fire, into darkness, into death. "Surrender?" Kalain sounded even less familiar with the word than Sinoval had. "That is a joke, surely." Sinoval shook his head. "No joke. Fools and cowards, as I said." "But... but... that is madness! The other Earther ships are still out there. Including... him!" "The Starkiller, I know. We slipped past most of them easily enough to come here. We have disabled all their defences here, and all we have to do is destroy that planet beneath our feet, and the whole reason for the war will be over. We can return home. "But no, Kalain. We stand here, and we wait. The remains of the Earther fleet, including the Starkiller, are no doubt heading here as fast as they can, and we wait. Our entire mission of these past years is in our sights, and we wait... "And our leaders talk of surrender." "Why? What... possible... reason could they have...?" "They have suddenly discovered that the humans may be sentient beings after all, and as such it is beneath their dignity to kill them. Foolish- ness." Sinoval sighed, and he seemed to sink into himself. "I will not give any such order, Kalain. I swear to you, to all of you... I will take my own life before any such order passes my lips. It is a betrayal... a shocking betrayal, and I will have no part in it." "Shai Alyt Branmer will not give such an order. Surely he will not?" Sinoval shrugged. "I do not know. By Valen's Words, I do not know. Remain here, Kalain. I will go to my sanctum, and think on my vows, and on my duty. If any order is given to me, for good or ill, I will... take the appropriate action." "Your will, Alyt." Kalain's words hung in the air as Sinoval walked from the bridge, making for the sanctum. Every Minbari warship had one particular room, a place where her Captain could go and rest, and meditate, and think. Sinoval had never been one for meditating, rested nowhere near as often as he should, and preferred thinking on the bridge, and as a result the sanctum of the Trigati was woefully underused. The fact that Sinoval was going there now told Kalain everything he wanted to know about his Captain's current mood. Sinoval entered the room and let the darkness wash over him. He raised his arms and welcomed it into him. He liked darkness, liked the purity of it, and he was slowly conditioning his eyes to adapt better to it. Poor night vision was a weakness of the Minbari, and Sinoval did not like weaknesses of any sort. Any other Minbari would have failed to notice the other person present in the room until they were dead, but Sinoval was not any other Minbari, and he realised just as the assailant's knife tore into his stomach. He reacted purely on instinct, barely noticing the agony exploding from his belly. His pike extended the instant he drew it, and its swing, already losing its strength, caught the would-be assassin on the leg. Not that it mattered. The attacker jumped back, and let Sinoval come towards him. The Alyt could sense a hint of fear in his attacker's movements, but he could also detect something of certainty. Whoever this was, he believed in what he was doing. Sinoval's knees began to buckle under him, but still he moved forward, seeing the silhouette of his attacker just before him. He was moving too fast, surely, too stealthily to be Minbari. Unless there... was... ... more... to... ... this... Sinoval crumpled to the floor, all the energy draining from his body. His pike rolled from his nerveless fingers, and darkness of a much more funda- mental nature overtook him. * * * * * * * "What?" Delenn whispered. "That was... not... suicide." "No," Sinoval replied, calmly. Delenn could see Kats stepping slightly more to the fore, beside Sinoval. Her expression was unreadable. "I meant every word of my vow to you, but I did not attempt suicide. The order to surrender had not been given." "And it never was," Sheridan said bitterly. "No, but that was Shakiri's fault as much as anyone's." "You are too kind, Sinoval," Delenn said softly. "I could have prevented it, if I had been more eloquent, more... convinced. Perhaps..." "There are many possibilities, Delenn," spoke Kats gently. "But that is all they are. Possibilities. The words of 'if only' hold too much power over all of us. They should not." Delenn smiled softly. "Thank you, Kats." Kats bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement. "And as for you, my lord," Kats said, addressing Sinoval, "what happened to you afterwards? You recovered, but..." Sinoval smiled. "Obviously. There was little which was miraculous or predestined about it. I was attacked, but the blow was not fatal. My major organs were undamaged. I was taken back to Minbar after the battle and I recovered there. Within weeks I was on my feet." Unnoticed and unheard by all, the Soul Hunters by the door whispered something in their native dialect. "So you missed Mars?" Delenn heard John's words and could not tell how much anger and bitterness was held within them. Knowing that with just a few hours more he could have made it as far as Earth. A day or so, that was all. "Yes. Some have claimed that it was my absence which allowed you to achieve the success you did." "And do you?" "I claim nothing. You were the better man at the time." "So... what about Earth?" "One word, again. Shakiri. He happened." * * * * * * * The Past The Hall of the Grey Council was silent, until Shakiri stormed into it. Not all of the Council were there, many had returned to their private sanctums to rest, or meditate, or contemplate the issue before them. Only Delenn had returned to the Hall, seeking an enlightenment there that she could not find anywhere else. "Treachery!" Shakiri snapped as he entered, startling Delenn from her silent reverie. "This is what comes of hesitation, Delenn! This is what your priestling sensibilities have wrought!" Delenn took a step back before she realised what she was doing, and then she straightened herself, a tower before Shakiri's feigned anger. "What has happened, Shakiri?" she asked. "What can be so serious as to cause you to barge into this sacred Hall shouting?" "The Earther has escaped. He has killed his guards, and is free in this ship somewhere." "That's impossible," Delenn breathed. "How...?" "The questions do not matter, Delenn. How much has he learned? How much does he know? What if word of this should get back to the Earthers? We must strike now." "No!" Delenn took in a deep breath. "We have been wrong, Shakiri. Very, very wrong. This war ends here. There will be no more killing!" "There are two dead who would be alive were it not for your pathetic weakness! How will you tell their families of their deaths, with their murderer unpunished? It was you who began this war, Delenn! You, and none other. Do you even have the courage to finish what you have begun?" "No, Shakiri," she replied softly, but with steel beneath the silk. "I have the courage to recognise a mistake when it is made, and the conviction to attempt to correct it. This war is over." Shakiri was chuckling. "So determined... it almost makes me forget how weak you are. What you say does not matter. I have summoned the other Satai here, and it is for them to decide. Now that they know that the Earther has escaped, they will continue with the original plan, Delenn. Your weakness will not destroy us." "You are wrong, Shakiri. You are so very wrong." "Am I? We shall see." Ten minutes later, the full Grey Council convened. Shakiri made a short, angry, powerful speech. Delenn made a longer, impassioned one. And when the speechmaking was over, only two columns shone with light in the Hall. Five minutes after that, led by the Shoju, the bombardment of Earth began. Twenty minutes after that, Andrew Denmark was caught in one of the flight bays aboard the Valentha. Despite using his telepathic powers to the full, he was unable to avoid capture. One of the blood vessels in his brain burst with the effort of trying to communicate with the Minbari, and he died there on the floor. A few hours after that, every living thing on the planet Earth was gone. To be continued... From: "Gareth Williams" Subject: The One and the Nine, part 4A Date: Wed, 16 Sep 1998 14:11:36 +0100 Babylon 5: A Dark, Distorted Mirror Phase Three - A Line in the Sand B5 and all related characters are owned by and copyright of jms and / or Warner Bros. I am making no money out of writing this and am doing so purely for pleasure. Slight Spoilers for In The Beginning, people. Chapter One - The One and the Nine, Part 4 of 4 [AT][AC] by Gareth Williams (lwa97gdw@Sheffield.ac.uk) Eleven Years in the Past Lao Tzu... Aristophanes... Marilyn Monroe... Buddy Holly... Alexander of Macedon, the defence of the three hundred at Thermopylae, the great debt to the few at the Battle of Britain, the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race, the horror shrine at Auschwitz, the grave of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the bridge over the River Kwai, Offa's Dyke, the ruins of Camelot, the Statue of Liberty, the heroic sacrifice of the thirty-three at New Cairo, the place where Reebo met Zooty, Cross Plains, the lonely house on the hill... Legacies of millions of years, marks of history, of honour, of a determin- ation to survive, to thrive, to prosper, to prevail... All gone. Washed away in a matter of hours by spirits from the heavens, who rained fire upon the world, stripping away the atmosphere, boiling away the seas, shattering the mountains and filling the cities with the dead and the cries of the dying. Far, far above the dying on Earth, there hovered angels, heedless, care- less, regardless of that which they were destroying. Had they known the truth, perhaps they would not have been. * * * * * * * "It was over in a matter of hours." Delenn's voice trailed hollowly. For a moment, it seemed as though she was about to say something else, but she did not. She only shook her head sadly, and felt the unquestioning warmth of the man next to her. In a circle around her, her six companions were silent. Next to her, the man she loved, the man she hoped loved her - could still love her after what she had just related. John Sheridan. A good, kind, gentle man, who had been twisted into something else by the actions she herself had helped begin. And next to him, another close friend, one of the few Delenn had made amongst the humans. Lyta Alexander. She was crying softly. Lyta had been on Mars when her homeworld had gone down in flames. She had always had the consolation of not knowing the full horror. Now she knew. Next to Lyta was the one who claimed to be both the prophet Valen, and the human Jeffrey Sinclair. He was silent and immobile. There was no trace of emotion on his face. Delenn wondered where his story would continue. She had the sick feeling she already knew, but she did not want to confront that fact. If... if she was right in her assumption, then let him say it She could... not face any more. Next to him was Commander David Corwin, a friend to John, and one whose attitude towards Delenn had always edged on the uncomfortable and the awkward. He was silent, his head bowed. Delenn was glad she could not see his eyes. He had been on Mars also, and escaped the genocide which had engulfed Earth. Next to him was Kats, former Satai of the worker caste, and currently in a position of some power in the new Minbar Delenn had unwittingly helped create. Delenn did not know her very well, but there was a sense of deep emotion in her eyes. Delenn had the feeling that Kats was a woman of deep conviction, but greater compassion. Kats had truly had no part in the destruction of Earth, save as silent bystander. That alone was more than enough to condemn her in her own eyes. Which made her all the more of a contrast with the one next to her, his hand gently on her arm in a gesture which might have been comforting, or might have been to hold her there. Sinoval, leader and creator of the new Minbar and the new Minbari. He had been a captain of the fleet which had destroyed Earth. By some happenstance - and one which he had not yet fully explained - he had not personally fired on the planet. But he would have done, without compunction, without so much as a second thought. And that was it, unless she counted the two Soul Hunters - Sinoval's 'honour guard' - a blasphemy in this holy place, but Delenn knew that Sinoval had committed worse, and would do so again. Delenn did not look at them. They should not even be here. The silence was broken at last, by the one who called himself Valen. "We commit their souls to space," he said softly. "We usher them unto your sorrowing rest, so that they may hear your silence." A strange sort of prayer, and one with which Delenn was only passing familiar. Such a funeral oration had not been uttered on Minbar for... for a thousand years. Since the first time of Valen. He then lifted up his head, and began to speak again. His voice was sonorous, filled with emotion he could not otherwise express, even in his eyes. "I hung there, floating, unable to move, unable to do anything but breathe, and watch. My screams were silent in space, unheard. "That is my last memory." Delenn nodded. "I think I know what became of you afterwards. When it was over, the nine of us gathered in the Hall to... * * * * * * * The Hall of the Grey Council, the Past "... take pride in our victory! Truly, with their homeworld lost we have all but accomplished that which we set out to do. Rejoice, fellow Satai, for we are victorious!" Shakiri, of course. His words made a mockery of the hallowed assemblage. Even Morann and Coplann were quiet. "There is no victory here," Jenimer said slowly, shaking his head with great sorrow. "No victory at all." "A necessity," Morann said. "This is over. Now let us return home. We have done what we came for." "It is not all completed," Shakiri said quickly. "Their colonies still remain. Mere mopping up, yes, but the task must be finished in totality." "Have you not shed enough blood?" Delenn cried loudly. "When will you be at peace? When will any of us be at peace? This war is over, Satai! Now and forever!" "There is little need for heated words," Shakiri said, smiling. "You may leave this Hall if you wish to calm yourself, Delenn." "We should all leave this Hall," Jenimer replied. "A great evil has been done here, and we should all think on our parts in it." His words cut Delenn to the heart, although that was surely not their intent. "More meditations," spat Shakiri. "Very well. We..." An image appeared in the column at the centre of the circle. It was Shai Alyt Branmer. His bearing was perfectly poised and composed, his stance giving away none of the emotions which must have been in his mind. His hands were folded precisely before him. His head was bowed just enough for courtesy. All in all, he was the picture of meticulous authority and respect. "Ah, Shai Alyt Branmer," said Shakiri. "You are to be congratulated. A fine operation." "Thank you, Satai," Branmer said, with the same flat precision in his bearing. "I live only to serve. I bring other news, however. It concerns Alyt Sinoval." "What of him?" Delenn asked. "He is dead." A stunned silence fell over the Council, broken finally by Jenimer. "He did it, then? He did take his own life. Such a waste." "A suicide does seem to be the first diagnosis. He was found in his sanctum, both his pike and a ceremonial dagger by his body." "A tragic loss," Delenn replied. "Who commands the Trigati now?" "Hor Alyt Kalain. He has reacted less than favourably to the news of Sinoval's death. He claims to hold you responsible." "Let him blame whomever he wishes," said Jenimer. "The death of Sinoval was a tragedy, and a worthless demise. But it was his own foolhardy honour which compelled him to it. Especially when no order to surrender was given. So stupid." "We thank you for this report, Shai Alyt," said Delenn. "Remain in high orbit, with sensors ready for any form of counterattack from the remaining human ships. Also... Sinoval's body... has he any relatives?" "None living, Satai." "Have his body returned to Minbar, to the Shrine of Valen there. Let him serve as a memorial of this war." "Your will, Satai." The image vanished, and Jenimer looked around the Council. "I think we need to contemplate this more fully," he announced. "How many more deaths must your crusade bring us, Shakiri?" "It was your weak hesitation which brought about his death. Not any act of mine." "It was the stifling code of your caste which..." "Enough," said Hedronn forcefully. "We will get nowhere with this arguing. Let us all go to our meditation and return here with calmer minds." The Council then dispersed, leaving their Hall strewn with the memories of failed hopes and doomed dreams, an empty place already marked with the death which would one day consume it. * * * * * * * "Dead?" Sinoval shrugged. By his side, Kats had moved back, and was looking at him. "You were dead?" "A simple mistake. The attack merely left me in a deep coma." "So you weren't dead?" That was Commander Corwin. "Obviously not. Our biology is not yours. I was simply in a deep coma, mistaken for death. What is important is..." "Is that it was not a suicide, but an attack." Valen, or Sinclair, or whoever, moved forward to look at Sinoval. "And you know who it was." Sinoval nodded. "We all have secrets. I have been keeping this one for... quite a while. I worked out who was responsible some years ago, but kept it to myself. A secret is a tool much like any other, and the art of tools is knowing when to use them." "So who was it?" Delenn asked. "Oh, I don't know the identity of the weapon, but the wielder of the weapon... the Vorlons. One of them any..." "LIAR!" Lyta shouted, stepping forward. "The Vorlons would never..." "The Vorlons have done more than you can ever imagine," Sinoval snapped. "There are records from the last Great War, from the Vindrizi and the Soul Hunters. The Vorlons may well be as evil as the Shadows, in their own way." "You're wrong," Corwin said. "The Vorlons came to help you at the Battle of the Second Line. They fought off the Shadows, remember?" "They had their own motives. They always do. They are guilty of offences you cannot understand, and attempting to murder me is nothing but the smallest and tiniest of them." "The Vorlons are our allies," Sheridan said slowly. "Your allies, perhaps. I will not tolerate them amongst my people." "You are lying," continued Lyta. "The Vorlons have never..." "Please, Lyta," said Delenn. "There are... some things you do not know. After the Grey Council broke up, I went, not to my personal sanctum, but to Dukhat's..." * * * * * * * Dukhat's Personal Sanctum, *Isil'zha*, The Past The door closed behind Delenn and she could feel the heaviness of the air around her. They were here. She could feel them. "I need to talk to you," she said softly. "I need to..." She drew in a deep breath. "You said the truth would point to itself! Where is the truth here?" The shadow moved and the Vorlon shifted into view. It was the cold Vorlon, whose icy voice chilled her. She straightened. "Where is the truth here?" "How? What must I do?" "Continue the war? You said the humans were the key. You said..." "Why? How much more blood must I shed? Answer me! When will this end?" "I don't understand any of this. I will not kill any more. Not one more. I..." A blow from nowhere struck Delenn, throwing her against the wall. Her body shook with the impact and she slid to the floor. "Wh... why?" "The..." Delenn paused, shaking. "The humans... they are still the key Dukhat spoke of?" "As you say." Delenn hung her head. She had lost after all. They had all lost. The warriors had won. The murderers had won. She was one of them now. She rose, and turned to go. Just as she reached the door, however, the Vorlon spoke again. Delenn only nodded. In silence, she left. * * * * * * * "And so the war continued, because I helped it continue. "I remember Shakiri's face as I argued for him during the next meeting of the Grey Council. At first he looked disbelieving, wondering perhaps if this was some trick. Then he started laughing. Afterwards, he came to me alone, and he said, 'It is good that you have seen the light, Delenn. Perhaps there is some wisdom in your soul after all.'" "Shakiri was a fool," Sinoval said. "A destructive fool," Delenn agreed. "He did not survive to enjoy his victory though. For all his planning and schemes, he lived only another few months. He was crippled at the Battle of Mars, and died back on Minbar from his injuries." A sly smile spread unnoticed across Sinoval's face. "Others died at Mars also. Morann and Coplann, and Jenimer was wounded and later retired. Twelve years later, and now I am the last surviving member of Dukhat's Grey Council. The blame therefore falls on me." "The blame falls on the Vorlons," Sinoval said. "The blame falls on no one," said Sheridan, speaking for the first time in a long while. "It..." He breathed in deeply. "It was all an accident. Just an accident that's gone too far." "Thank you," Delenn whispered. "But an accident that is continuing to spread," spoke Valen softly. "Only now can it end, perhaps." "Per... haps," Delenn said. "Perhaps. You were the human I gave to the Vorlons, weren't you?" "Yes. I remember hovering there, trapped in space. That was all, until I appeared at the Temple of Varenni. I knew what I had to do, I remembered that I was Valen, everything that I had done, every word of the prophecies I had written, based upon the knowledge I have now." "You expect me to believe a human is Valen?" Sinoval said incredulously. "Delenn, that is beyond foolishness and into blasphemy." She shot him a gaze that could have pierced stone. "It is neither, Sinoval. Since I have been... away from here, I have discovered many things. Including the mystery that has troubled us all for centuries. We always knew that our souls were fading, disappearing somewhere instead of being reborn in each successive generation as had always been the case. "After the war... when I returned here, and after... Neroon... left... I immersed myself in my studies of the prophecies. We had all lost a chance for peace, and salvation. I was determined to ensure we regained that opportunity. "'We will reunite with the other half of our soul as we walk into fire and darkness.' Do you know those words, Sinoval?" A faint hint of memory flitted across Valen's face. "Of course I know them. I..." Sinoval's eyes widened. "You knew... you tried to warn us!" "Before the Second Line, yes. I tried to warn you, but you were not listening, and I was not strong enough. Humans are the other half of our soul. They are where our souls have been going." "How... how do you know this?" Kats asked softly. "How can you be sure?" "The Triluminary. Before I was captured from here, I was going to test my theory... on John. I did not get the chance then, but the Triluminary was brought with me, to the Babylon and then to Proxima Three. It was there that I knew I was right." "But where is the proof, Delenn? Where, exactly?" "Proof is hardly necessary, Sinoval. Where is your faith?" "Faith I leave to the religious caste, Delenn. I desire only proof." "Then I will give you proof." Delenn fished in the pocket of her dress. "There were three Triluminaries, granted us by Valen a thousand years ago. One was taken from me after my... change. The other two remained with the Grey Council. One, I believe, has been broken since, but this one remains." She pulled out the third Triluminary. "Will this give you the proof you need, Sinoval?" He nodded. Delenn turned to look at John. He nodded briefly. A soft, pale smile spread across her face as she raised the Triluminary to him. It glowed softly, piercing the gentle mists around them. Sinoval shrank from the light which to him seemed a brilliant illumination. "Well, Sinoval?" Delenn whispered. He nodded again. "So our souls have been passing to humans, and so they are the ones Valen spoke of... I am willing to grant much of what you tell me, Delenn. But as yet I see nothing to convince me that this... Valen is the true One. Even should Valen's form be reborn into a... human... What is to stop the Vorlons taking any human and recasting him into Valen." "History will not tolerate *any* Valen. Destiny demands that the One be Valen, not anyone. And there is one other matter on which you are incorrect. This is not Valen Reborn, but Valen as he was before he came unto us." Sinoval laughed. "Of course! You are the Valen before he appeared, Minbari not born of Minbari!" "I don't understand," Corwin said. "Everything was there," Sinoval said. "The bearing, the knowledge, the appearance... just not the experience. Not the age. There was no sign in your eyes, no sign of the suffering or strife Valen had endured. And that was simple... you have not endured it yet!" "At some point in our future," Delenn whispered, "you will go back in time, back to become the Valen that was." She and Sheridan shared a very private, personal glance. "Time travel?" said Corwin incredulously. "That's impossible!" "No," Delenn said. "Just difficult. We have the power to create very small temporal portals, although it is rarely used. Who knows what others are capable of? Besides, Commander, we know time travel is possible. We have seen it." "What... Oh my God. I remember..." "The Vorlons must have known this, and rescued you to ensure this happened," Delenn said hastily. Sinoval flashed her a curious look, but she said nothing further. "I think you're putting too kind a sheen on their motives, Delenn," he said. "Yes, they may well have wanted to ensure that this... Valen... goes back to protect the past, but I am sure they have more pressing concerns for the future. Don't you see? Valen returns, as he promised he would. His words fire the people, shifting their allegiances. They would switch fealty at a moment, would swear themselves to his side. The Vorlons will then control my people, through him. That will not happen." "But if he is the real Valen..." "That does not matter! No Vorlon puppet will control my people, Delenn. He will not, true Valen or no." "You're forgetting something, Sinoval," Kats said, her voice to his ears as soft as snowfall on grass. "If he was really as controlled by the Vorlons, then why would he come here and give us... give you the chance to work out all of this?" "Ah... Yes... That I have considered, but have not been able to work out. Some ploy, perhaps. Can you answer that... Sinclair?" "No," he said apologetically. "I came here because I was... driven to. I cannot explain it, do not understand. If I am a... puppet, then how am I to know who pulls my strings?" All turned, to see Lyta, her eyes jet black. As they stared, her eyes shifted to a bright gold, dazzling them all. The voice which came from her mouth was not her own. "That I will believe when it is proved." "Was that a rhetorical question?" Corwin muttered, not that anyone heard him. "I know you," Delenn whispered. "You are Kosh. Once... you were a part of me." "What?" snapped Sinoval. "How...?" Delenn turned to look at him. "After the discovery of the Shadow ship at Mars, I went back to Dukhat's sanctuary. Only Kosh was there. He told me he could help me, but at a price. He... entered my mind, becoming a part of me, shaping my thoughts with his own. Now, he is in Lyta." "Vorlons," Sinoval spat contemptuously. Lyta's golden eyes shifted to her normal colour, and she swayed, almost falling. Valen caught her, and held on to her gently. "Well," Sinoval said. "Another ploy." "No," Delenn replied. "A truth. Tell me... Valen. It seems your destiny is now in our hands. What do you wish for the future?" "To help," he said simply. "Stay away from my people," Sinoval warned. "Puppet or not, helpless or not, the destiny of my people rests in my hands, not yours." Kats touched his arm gently. "Then come with us," Delenn said. "An alliance is being created elsewhere... on Kazomi Seven. There are some Minbari there... Some who..." She looked at Sinoval. "Some who dislike my methods of ruling? You may have them, Delenn. Him also. I wish none who will not follow me, and I will take none to their deaths against their will. This planet will be entirely uninhabitable before long. All who wish it may come with me to other worlds, a few surviving colonies... other places. Any who wish to go with you, Delenn... they are welcome." "You are sure?" "I will hold none from their desires. I wish only those who will follow me personally." "The warriors, you mean?" "Not all," said Kats. "I will follow you, my lord. To fire and darkness." "I know," he replied simply. "Well, Sinoval. It appears you have the people you have wished for. Warriors, demons, the damned." "Demons? Oh, the Soul Hunters. They are far from demons, Delenn. They..." Sinoval stopped. Visions began to arise from the mists around them, visions unbidden and unasked-for. * * * * * * * The Minbari flyer Norio, the Past The attack had come suddenly and without warning. No sooner had the flyer emerged from the Rokugan jump gate for refuelling at the colony than the ships appeared and attacked, swarming around the flyer. Engines and weapons were disabled in seconds. A frantic distress signal was jammed with ease. The Minbari colony, a mere three hours flight away, might as well have been on the other side of the moon. With the flyer now floating, paralysed in space, the attackers came to board it. "You will not have him!" barked the captain, as he stood defending the precious relic he would return to Minbar. "You will... not..." Blood streamed from cuts down his forehead, and still he stood firm. The Soul Hunter looked at him with an expression that could have shattered rock. Behind the captain lay the body of the Minbari warrior caste's greatest hero. The captain knew little more of the Shagh Toth than legends, but he had a task to fulfill, and he would not let these monstrosities claim the soul of Sinoval. His pike extended, he lunged forward. With a grace that belied his size, the Soul Hunter ducked, swivelled back and punched the Minbari in the ribs. He fell. The Soul Hunter strode to Sinoval's body. He laid one hand gently, almost tenderly, on the dead Minbari's forehead. Then he drew a knife from his belt, and took its blade in his hand. Black blood dripped into Sinoval's eyes and mouth. The Soul Hunter smiled, nodded, and left. A few hours later the captain of the Norio recovered, just as ships from Rokugan arrived. He was taken to the Temple on Rokugan to atone for his failure, and only the confirmation of the leading priest there, that Sinoval's soul was long gone before the Soul Hunter had had a chance to take it, calmed his spirit. Two days later, his body resting in the shrine where Valen had first met the one who would later chronicle his life - Nukenn, of the family Zir - the body of Sinoval, of the Wind Swords, arose. Medical experts announced that the attack which had 'killed' him had merely shut down some of his vital functions, placing his body in a coma while his secondary systems came into operation. Examples of similar 'returns from the dead' were not unheard-of, although very rare. Legend said that Valen himself had once returned from such a state, during the climactic assault on Z'ha'dum. Only two Minbari ever knew of the Soul Hunter, and neither could speak of it. Their dreams were tormented by chaos and darkness, and both died in their sleep mere months later. Sinoval still lived. * * * * * * * From: "Gareth Williams" Subject: The One and the Nine, part 4B Date: Wed, 16 Sep 1998 14:14:29 +0100 The One and the Nine, Part 4B of 4 "What?" breathed Sinoval softly. "You mean... you..." One of the Soul Hunter guardians bowed gracefully. "Are you the only one with secrets, my Primarch?" Sinoval only laughed in reply. "The Ceremony is over," Delenn said solemnly. "I cannot say whether any of us has been reborn, but... I think this has been a beneficial experience." "For once, Delenn," Sinoval replied, "I bow to your religious caste wisdom." By his side, Kats smiled broadly. "According to the strict procedure of the ceremony," she continued, "we must each reveal a secret we have told no one else, and give up something of great value to us." She looked thoughtful. "I think we've already done that, Delenn," Sheridan said. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him. "We've given up the past, and that is one of the most valuable things we possess." She smiled, and snuggled closer to him. "You are right, John." "Then what now?" asked Corwin. "I mean... are we any nearer sorting all this out than we were before?" "Minbar will be uninhabitable soon," Sinoval said. "The poisons in the atmosphere, the ground, the water... Those of my people who wish to follow me will be travelling to the few colonies we still control. From there I will rebuild, and reforge our people. But... I can take only those who will fight. This is a war, and I will not place the weak in a position where they may be slaughtered. Not again. "Those who wish to, Delenn, may follow you. I have no further doubts in placing their destiny in your hands." "Thank you," she whispered. "I will go with you also," said Valen. "I am... not a warrior. Not yet. Maybe in the past... the future, I will be." "You will," Sinoval confirmed. "But for the moment, I will go with you, Delenn, if I may." Her smile would have brought the sun at midnight. "Of course." "Then it is decided," Sinoval announced. "I thank you for this, Delenn. It has been a valuable experience. But for now, I must go. We may meet again." He made for the door, bowing in a gesture of respect to Sheridan and Delenn, and giving Valen a look that might have been contempt, or might have been pity. At the door, he stopped, and looked back at all of them. "Remember what I said about the Vorlons. Do not trust them. Not at all." He left. Kats made to go after him, but she stopped beside Delenn, smiling gently, and extended her hand to her in a typical gesture of warmth. Delenn smiled in turn. "You could come to Kazomi Seven, if you want to," Delenn said. "There will be a place for you there." "My place is with him." "One day, he will kill you," Delenn warned. "He may not wish it, or even order it, but you will die because of him." "Then I will die. Through fire and darkness, past death and despair, until my soul is reborn. I have sworn, Delenn, and I will follow him. Walk in the light, Delenn." "And you," she sighed. "Be at peace." Kats smiled, and laughed. Delenn slid back into John's embrace, and sighed softly. It was time to return to work. * * * * * * * "My lord," Kats said urgently, rushing after Sinoval's long stride. He slowed down to match hers. "My lord... you..." She paused, unsure of how to frame the thoughts in her mind. "You have secrets, do you not?" "Oh, many," he said. "Enough to fill a library. Only one needed to be aired today. The others... they could wait. They will have to endure. Besides, some of the details might... upset our new friends there." "Tell me." He glared at her. "I am your conscience, am I not? Share with me, my lord." "Are you strong enough to bear my burden, my lady?" He looked at her, and shook his head. "Foolishness. Of course you are. Do you wish to bear my burden?" "Yes, my lord." He laughed, and touched her, very gently, on her arm. "Very well. Two things relevant to... the issues we were discussing today." "One involved Shakiri?" "Yes. That one comes later. First... what Delenn said was true. Before that... Andrew Denmark, the Grey Council had never set eyes on a human. Some of our people had, in hand-to-hand combat, but not we leaders. After him of course... There was a long break while our illustrious leaders debated the issue of surrender. Some of the humans chose that time to attempt to escape. "Some managed it, no doubt, but we caught some of the stragglers. Our scouts shot them down and brought the survivors aboard. Kalain was dealing with the matter when he informed Shakiri. This was while I was unconscious, bleeding to death on the floor of my inner sanctum." He could not keep the bitterness out of his voice. "What happened to them?" Kats asked. There was a dawning horror in her eyes, as if she were about to realise the truth. "Shakiri ordered them given to Jha'dur, of course. The Grey Council never found out, but Jha'dur informed me herself later." "Valen's Name. And what... what did she do to them?" "I do not know... but it would not have been pleasant. Try not to think of it." "I won't. I... I won't. And the other secret?" He touched her shoulder. "Are you sure?" "Yes. I am your conscience, as you said, my lord. I am ready for whatever you choose to tell me. It is about Shakiri, isn't it?" "Yes. He was a fool, and an arrogant one. He would have doomed our caste and our people, all for his own foolish pride. He was wounded at the Battle of Mars and brought back to Minbar for healing. All the signs were that he would recover, but he relapsed and died within days of his return. "I was awake when Shakiri returned. I watched him. I remembered every- thing that he had done. I had heard about what had happened on Earth, and on Mars. "He was a greater threat to us than any I have seen. "And so I killed him." Kats gasped. "You...?" He smiled sadly. "Now you share a part of my burden, my lady. Do you still wish to be at my side, knowing who I am and what I have done?" "Through fire and darkness, past death and despair, until my soul is reborn. I will follow you, my lord." "Thank you, my lady. And now... I believe we have much work to do." * * * * * * * The next few weeks saw much frantic activity on Minbar, homeworld and heartland of one of the oldest races in the galaxy. Those badly injured either healed, or died. Those fit either left, or remained. Some went with Delenn to Kazomi 7, others with Sinoval to the Vindrizi's sanctuary world. Some went elsewhere, embracing a darker destiny. The skies continued to weep fiery tears. The earth continued to revolt, corrupted by forces alien to all. The rivers remained black and sterile. Within four weeks, there was no life remaining on Minbar. Delenn was one of the last to leave. She stood at *Turon'val'na lenn- veni* - the Place Where Valen Waits - looking out at the ruins of the city where she had been born. The grass beneath her feet was black. The beautiful, shimmering lake before her was filled with sediment and dust. She remembered a vision from a long time ago, and she shivered, recalling the one thing from this sight missing from her view. A gravestone. She then turned and left, swearing never to return. Somehow, though, she knew that she would. Two weeks or so after the last trace of life departed from Minbar, more life came, from far beyond the stars above. Ships emerged from the heavens, beings came from the sky. And the relics of old were born again. * * * * * * * "It is not over," Sonovar said softly, looking around at those he had gathered to his side. Warriors, although not all. Some priestlings, those with hints of strength. No workers though. They were weak and pathetic, one and all. "It is not over." Kalain was seated in a corner. He was staring sight- lessly at a wall. Whatever had happened to him, his mind had been broken. Sonovar knew that did not matter. Kalain was a figurehead, little more. What Sinoval, what the Earthers, what they had all done to the greatest warrior ever born... none of that mattered. He was here, in flesh, and that would have to be enough. "Our people are enslaved by evil, and corrupted by Sinoval's madness," Sonovar continued. Standing just before him was Forell, a priestling, nodding slowly. His face was covered with scars and lesions. He had been captured by the Earthers during the early stages of their renewed war. He had escaped, somehow. "Sinoval has betrayed us all. He has made alliances with demons, and he has welcomed Earthers into his hall. He abandoned our world to destruc- tion, and he has rejected the return of the true Valen." Sonovar looked at the newest member of his circle. Ramde Cozon, of the Tak'cha. "We will achieve our salvation, and our forgiveness, and a return to our destiny. All who oppose us, Earther, Sinoval, Shadow... we will destroy." Three capital ships had already come to Sonovar's side. There would be more. "Our destinies await us, through fire... and through darkness." Next: Promises for the Future (3 parts) He is Valen Reborn, the incarnation of prophecy and destiny for the Minbari people, and yet he is also Jeffrey Sinclair, a human with thoughts and feelings at odds with his new role. As he comes to realise the degree of manipulation he has been subjected to, he struggles to come to terms with his destiny. While, elsewhere, someone once very close to him finds hints as to her own role in the future, and in the past. [END]