There was a sharp kick to his side, and the sound of something cracking.
"But that's where the difference is. I'll be leaving here, moving up and out. I won't be in Sector Three–o–one forever, you know. I think my backers up–sector just had a little.... crisis of conscience, but ah, what the hell! Nothing lasts forever. I used my money wisely. I've got friends up there, more friends than you know. I know where too many bodies are buried, you see. I'm moving up in the world."
"Alli.... ance." The words would not come easily. Even thinking them gave Smith a headache. He needed time to think, time to catch his wind. He knew full well that Trace intended to kill him, and this time Talia was not going to materialise to help.
"Them? Heh, they aren't going to win. We've got those Shadows on our side, not to mention the defence grid and the new Earthforce ships. Nah, Proxima's safe enough. In any case, even if they do win, they aren't going to slag the planet. They're going to want their precious Delenn back, and that'll take time.... time I can use getting away from here. I've got friends all over this galaxy."
"Del.... enn."
"I didn't hear that. Were you saying something?" More pain.
"Killed her. You.... killed.... her."
"No, not me. That was you, in case you've forgotten. Wonderful thing, i'n't it? Anyone can do anything at all, with just the right motivation. You killed her, not me. I won't shed any tears. What do I care about some alien bitch? But you did."
Everything seemed to move around him, and Smith realised Trace had seized his collar and pulled him up. There was a hard slam against the wall, and his body shook.
"You killed her. You shot and killed an unarmed woman you cared about. See? You're just like all the rest of us. That means I've won. You're nothing now. Nothing but a dead man." Smith's vision focussed on something mere inches from his eye. A PPG. "Hey, maybe I'll go looking for that telepath of yours. My backers might not be after her kind any more, but I'm sure there's a use for her somewhere. I hear telepaths are great in the sack."
"Kill.... you...."
"No. No, I don't think you will." Trace smiled. "Say goodbye to the...."
"Freeze!" barked a voice from nowhere. All Smith could see was the weapon just in front of his face. The voice echoed in his mind. Small wonder he couldn't recognise it. "Security!"
"What the...?" barked Trace. He pulled back his weapon and stepped away from the wall. Smith slid down and felt the impact on the ground. "Allan! For God's sake, it's me. What are you doing here? Thought you'd be hiding under your desk or something." Trace was chuckling. "Anyway, gimme a moment and then you and I can go somewhere safe and ride out this attack."
"Drop your weapon."
"What?"
"I said drop your weapon."
"Allan.... that is you? Not some alien shapeshifter or something in disguise? It's me, remember, the guy paying you a fortune to keep off his back."
"I can't let you kill someone in cold blood, Trace. You know that."
"Then turn round. It'll only take a moment."
"No. Drop your weapon and leave the area."
"Oh, for the love of.... Why did you wait until now to develop a social conscience? You never had one before."
"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I just remembered what this uniform and this badge used to mean. Now drop the weapon."
"Allan, believe it or not, you're something of a friend, so I'll say something to you that I wouldn't say to anyone else. This attack is obviously rattling you. So, head over to my club, get yourself a few drinks on the house. I'll join you shortly, we'll play some cards and everything'll be back to normal, right?"
"No. I've had enough of being a joke. Drop your weapon. I won't say that again."
"Dammit, Allan. I tell you what. I'll make sure you get a real nice headstone, okay?"
There was a blur of movement, the sound of a PPG firing, and then of a body falling to the ground. Smith shook his head and opened his eyes. Zack Allan looked directly at him.
"Yeah?" he said. "What? Have I got something on my nose?" He shook his head. "Damn, I don't believe I just did that. Holy...."
"Why.... did.... you?"
"We got a report in about the Alliance attack. We were ordered here to keep things quiet, get people off the streets and so on. Yeah, so we didn't do a very good job, what the hell do you expect? Most of the other guys stayed at the base drinking themselves silly."
"Why.... you.... here?"
"Ah, this is nuts. I had a dream, okay! A bloody dream! She was in it, and I don't know.... I just knew I had to come here and something.... good would happen. Like I bloody deserve anything good happening to me at the moment. Ah, come on, get up."
Leaning on Allan, Smith managed to rise slowly. There was pain all over his body, his head was pounding and his vision was blurred, but he could stand, and he would not fall.
"Trace?" he asked.
"Dead. Drawing a weapon on a Security officer of Proxima Three. Damn, he shoulda listened to me. What about.... you know.... her?"
Smith turned to look at Delenn. Her face was so.... calm. He saw a gobbet of spittle on her cheek, and anger flared within him. Limping heavily, he managed to move over to her side and knelt down, wincing. Gently, he reached out and wiped the spittle from her face.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm...."
Her eyes opened.
There was no breath, no sound, no thought. Nothing disturbed the silent, still power of the tableau. Sinoval had not seen this in his vision, but then the whole series of events had run contrary to what he had seen.
So he was forced to.... improvise.
"You can kill me easily enough," he observed, his dark eyes peering directly up at Tirivail.
"Minbari do not kill Minbari," she said, an automatic reflex.
"That is a priestling concept. We did kill each other. In the old days it was all we ever did, a test of courage and skill. That was all our lives were. In the days before Valen. The days, no doubt, Sonovar is trying to restore."
"I am a warrior. I serve my lord."
"And if your lord is wrong?"
"That is not for me to say."
"It was for Sonovar. I was his lord, and he betrayed me. He thought I was wrong."
"You betrayed us! You were one of us, a warrior, and you made alliances with the enemy, with the Shagh Toth. You abandoned Minbar, you...."
"I followed the path I set for myself, nothing more. I was wrong, Tirivail daughter of Takier, and I admit that. But the past cannot be altered. It simply is. We guide the future."
"Lord Sonovar said...." She paused.
"What did he say?"
"A great many things," she whispered, the words hollow. "He said a great many things."
"Where is Kozorr?"
"Dead," she whispered. "Or dying. I.... I killed him. He would rather I killed him than his worker. I don't.... what sort of warrior is he? What sort of warrior would give his life to save a worker?"
"You don't understand."
"No. No, of course I don't. How can I?"
"Well? Are you going to kill me?"
She stepped back. "No," she said bitterly, replacing her pike by her side. "I don't know what my future demands of me, but I will not kill my own people."
Sinoval smiled and rose slowly to his feet. "You have chosen well." He paused. "Do you know.... I had a vision, a year ago. I saw myself here, in this place, surrounded by nine of my enemies. I knew I would probably die here.... but someone else told me I would not. I have another destiny."
"But still you came."
"Yes. You see.... I like to clean up my own messes. Are you going to return to Sonovar?"