"Then how do you live? How do you stand here?"
"The Z'ondar disappeared into the chariot of ages, did he not? He did not die, no more than did I. Death and life are the same, one circle. One unity. One life. One death."
"Why are you here?"
"To help you. To help you atone." Something at the back of his mind was burning. He could feel it. Who was he talking to? Vhixarion, or Zarwin? "As the Z'ondar would have wished." Fire. There was fire everywhere. "To prepare for his return."
Vhixarion looked at him, his wide dark eyes exploring him. He made to speak, and then stopped.
Those who will not follow you into fire, into darkness, into death.... they do not deserve to follow you. And so, instead, they must precede you.
The words came from nowhere, from in front of them, from around them. Suddenly, in an eerie shimmering, there appeared two figures, transparent as glass, but clearly defined as a reflection in a still pond. Everyone knew who they were.
How.... could you? Have you no compassion? Have you no care for the helpless?
There was a whispered hush among the Tak'cha and they all slowly sank to their knees, heads bowed. Only Vhixarion dared to keep looking at the ghosts before him.
We care only to glorify your name, Valen.... We must be true to ourselves above all else, and as we see fit, we will....
Get out!
The Tak'cha shook at the force of Valen's words. Some stumbled backwards, making to leave, imagining their great Z'ondar to be addressing them directly.
I will not have innocent beings slaughtered in my name.
But.... you need us as allies.
We will manage without you. Now leave.
"Our sin," whispered Vhixarion. He turned to Marrain. "What was our sin? The Yolu would not ally themselves with the Z'ondar. They would not pledge themselves to his holy crusade. We were right to chastise them. They would not follow him into fire, into darkness, into death. They should therefore precede him.
"We do not understand. The great Zarwin, the first Sah'thai - he did not understand, and we have not a tenth of his wisdom. The Z'ondar has surely sent you to us for enlightenment, Marrain. Tell us....
"What was our sin?"
Marrain's eyes were dark. He could see flames licking around him. He could see another ghost. His own, standing here, facing Valen after Zarwin's exile. Words had been exchanged. A weapon raised.
Marrain began to laugh, although whether in the present or the past, he could not be sure.
Two dead men.
The air was thick and heavy, hot. It seemed to crackle. At David Sheridan's side, two Shadows bristled with anger at the sight of their oldest enemy before them.
"How long have you been here?" he asked.
"We have always been here," Clark said, in a voice that was not his own. "Always. We were content to wait, and watch. When you came to try to bend this man to your will, we waited until we were ready, until you were obscured by your own concerns, and then we moved. We blasted your symbiont from his body and took it for our own."
"How long have you been controlling him?"
"We do not control him. Everything he has done, he has done himself."
<Humanity is ours,> hissed the Shadow at Sheridan's side.
"They have always been ours," said Clark, light pouring from his eyes. He took a step backwards, keeping his desk between him and the Shadows. "We have always been here."
<You have lost.>
"Yes," Clark said with a smile. "We have lost."
Sheridan took another step forward. Something about this made no sense. Clark looked so confident, as if everything was going according to some plan. The Alliance fleet would be here soon, but they were expected. The Shadow ships were also here. The fight would be difficult, yes, but the Alliance would be outnumbered, by the Earthforce fleet, the Shadows, the planetary defence grid....
No, he did not like the feel of this at all.
Clark took another step back. He was against the wall now. Sheridan came forward slowly, moving around the desk. The Shadows followed him, their anger evident in the dark song of their movements.
Clark's face smiled again. "We have lost," he said. "And in that, we have won. Soon you will understand." The light faded from his eyes, and he was himself once again. "They are happy to let me say one last thing to you, Ambassador," he said in his own voice.
"I never liked you."
His arm darted out and he tapped something on the wall. The lights suddenly went out and there was a sliding noise. Sheridan tried to move forward, but he could not see, and the edge of the desk struck against his hip. There was the sound of a scuffle, and a furious shriek from one of the Shadows. A moment later there was the sound of a door slamming shut.
He managed to scramble to his feet, knowing that the backup lighting would come on in a few moments. When it did he saw that Clark had vanished. There was a splatter of blood on the wall, and one of the Shadows lay broken and dead on the floor. The other was furiously hacking at the wall.
"Secret passage," Sheridan spat. "No! We don't have time for that. They have some sort of plan. We have to find out what it is. What exactly is going on?"
There was the sudden sound of klaxons, and he looked up. He could almost see the Alliance ships coming into view, all those miles above. He could almost feel his son on board one of them.
Time was short....
G'Kael had never been a particularly religious man. He had always been concerned with practicality over theory, and had seldom bothered with prayer. More recently, however, he was finding faith a suitable and interesting thing to have. It helped greatly when it came to looking at the future.
And the present.
He looked at the woman who was, in name at least, his attach? here on Kazomi 7. Na'Toth had been in the inner circle of the Kha'Ri, only to be deposed in a particularly machiavellian power game. Now she was here, out of the way, in a powerless and humiliating position. Or so her enemies thought. She, G'Kael and G'Kar all knew better.
"The Kha'Ri is not happy," G'Kael noted.
"No," said Na'Toth. "I would guess not. I suppose the evidence is actually reliable?"
"It certainly seems so," G'Kael replied. "I have not actually spoken with the captain who recorded it, but the Kha'Ri seem convinced that it is genuine. Of course, that does not mean a great deal."
"And if it is true, what then?"
"I have instructions from Councillor H'Klo. He wants the Alliance to intervene on our behalf in the war with the Centauri. His exact words were, 'This is no longer a private matter. Our war is now their war.'"
"Will the Council see it that way?"
"It is possible. Captain Sheridan did after all order us out of the Council until we chose to involve ourselves in their war. This way, they will have to involve themselves in our war. The Ha'Cormar'ah will know better than I do, of course."
"When he arrives."
"He is a busy man. The affairs of his position here weigh heavily upon him. Also, there is the matter of the war with the humans to contend with. However, Councillor H'Klo instructed me to bring this matter before the Alliance Council as soon as possible, no matter how busy they are."
"Councillor H'Klo will just have to wait." snapped Na'Toth. He had been among the foremost of those who had stripped her of her position in the inner circle.
A few minutes later the door opened and in walked the Ha'Cormar'ah. G'Kar, head of the Rangers, prophet and leader, both of warriors and of the faithful.
"There is something you should see, Ha'Cormar'ah," said G'Kael softly.