fleet of them, and more to come. Now we can take the war to the enemy.'
No one doubted he meant it.
Part 3 : A Universe of Majesty and Terror.
There is a fine line between vendetta and obsession, between genius and madness. In his quest for revenge, Sinoval has crossed that line. Ignoring advice from his allies, heedless of warnings from his friends, he returns to the site of his greatest triumph to gain his greatest prize. He is willing to die trying, but the true, terrible cost of his actions will be too great even for him to accept...
Chapter 1
Primarch Sinoval the Accursed.
Some words, once spoken, can never be taken back. Some thoughts, once given birth, are forever. Some plans, once set in motion, can never be undone.
Sinoval is the Primarch Nominus et Corpus of the Order of Soul Hunters. He thinks he knows what that means.
He is the leader of the Minbari Federation, or at least of the part of it that recognises his sovereignty. He thinks he knows what that will cost him.
He is called the Accursed. He does not care.
He is incapable of love, but he understands revenge all too well. Of friends, he has had precious few, but his enemies are almost without number. He is not afraid of any living thing.
He has never looked back with regret, or shame. Anger, yes, grief, yes.... but never has he said 'if only I had done that' or 'if only I had not done that'. Those words have no power over him. He is not a slave to the past.
Only to the future.
That is the greatest strength, and his greatest flaw.
Those who cannot learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.
He stands on the pinnacle of Cathedral, the highest point of the ancient structure that is home to the Order of Soul Hunters. He stares out across the infinity of space. His heart is filled with anger, and hatred, and determination.
The Vorlons have taken away one he admired, and they have tainted one he respected. People not as fitting to lead in war as he is, but people so much more destined to lead in peace. They are lost now, both of them.
He will not let their loss be in vain.
He begins to speak, and without knowing he dooms himself, and maybe his people. He was warned, by the technomage Vejar for one and the Primarch Majestus et Conclavus for another, but he chose not to heed, or maybe he has heeded, and simply decides it is worth the risk.
'Tell me, Primarch,' he says....
'Tell me, Primarch, in all the history of your order, ever since the Well of Souls was first born, has any of your order ever taken a Vorlon soul?'
It would take a great deal to shock or surprise the Primarch Majestus et Conclavus, spiritual leader of the Order of Soul Hunters and their link to the mystical Well of Souls. Sinoval's question did not do either.
'No,' said the voice, the ageless voice. It had been almost two years since Sinoval had first come to Cathedral and stood before the Primarch, making his offer. In that time the two had come to know and respect each other, perhaps even become friends, if such a thing was possible for either. The Primarch was not surprised by that question: Sinoval's obsession with the Vorlons was in no way a secret.
'No. Vorlons are long-lived beings, and very solitary. We are no more welcome in their worlds than we would have been in Valen's Temples on Minbar. Vorlons do not die easily, or commonly.' He paused, deep in thought. 'There was.... a legend, of one of our Order who achieved such a thing. It was deep in Vorlon space, and he managed to save one of their souls.
'Alas, he never returned here. We believe, if there was any truth to the story, that he was intercepted and destroyed by Vorlon ships before he could leave. Of course, that may be a mere legend. The Well of Souls would know.'
'It is possible, then?' Sinoval said. 'It.... can be done.'
'In theory, of course. All living beings of the universe have souls, and all living beings of the universe must die, whether sooner or later. It is very difficult, however, to save the soul of a Vorlon. As I said, they are long-lived, and dislike intruders into their realms.'
A slow, self-satisfied smile crossed Sinoval's face. 'There is no need to worry, Primarch,' he said. 'Vorlons have a tendency to die when I am around.'
'What are you saying?'
Sinoval raised his pike, an ill-fated weapon he called Stormbringer, a name of ill-omen. 'This has hurt a Vorlon before. It can do so again. And if it can hurt a Vorlon, then it can kill one. A Vorlon is a living thing of course, and anything that lives....
'.... can be killed.'
'That is not our way,' breathed the Primarch. Now, he was shocked. 'We do not kill. We.... save the souls of those who pass on naturally. We do not kill. Such.... such an act would break the pacts we swore so long ago.'
'You will not have to kill anything. I will do it. You merely have to take the Vorlon's soul as it dies.'
'No! This cannot be done. We do not kill.'
'This must be done! Do you not see? The Vorlons sent Delenn to her death! They corrupted and tainted the Starkiller! They are pushing all the races to war against the Shadows, and for what? To rule all! I will destroy each and every one of them.... To do that, I need information. I need knowledge. The Vindrizi have some, but not enough. The Well of Souls will not answer me when I put those questions to it.
'I need a Vorlon soul.'
'Please.... my friend.... this is not the way.'
'It is the way. It can be done. And may I remind you, you swore to obey all my commands.... for so long as I am alive.'
'Go hunting the Vorlons, and that may not be for long.'
Sinoval smiled. 'Well, then. You will need to be there to save my soul when I die, no? And if I fail, you will be free of me, and can leave the affairs of mortal beings again.'
'You do not understand.'
'I understand all too well. You will do this, Primarch. I am your leader, and I command it.'
The Primarch sighed softly, and then bowed. 'Very well. I am ready. Do you have a plan, or are we just going to storm the Vorlon homeworld?'
'No.... I think that can wait. After all, we will need something to do tomorrow. And I do have a plan. Listen....'
