A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 4. A Future, Born in Pain

'I am sure he will. He is.... a good person at heart.'

'You must know him well.'

'I.... think I do, but he is warrior, and different from us. Different from most warriors, as well.'

'What sort of person is he? I have only ever heard the rumours. The warriors here, the.... Primarch's.... Pikes?'

'The Primarch's Blades,' Kats corrected.

'They seem to follow him unreservedly. I heard one of them swear an oath to die if the Primarch asked. What sort of person could make a warrior say something like that?'

Kats paused. 'He is.... intense. He believes he can do anything he sets his mind to, and that obstacles are merely brief inconveniences. I sometimes feel he can do anything at all. When he is there.... everything else pales beside him. The air seems to crackle. And his eyes.... I am very, very thankful he considers me his friend....

'I would never wish to be his enemy.'

'He does think you a friend?' Kats nodded. 'I don't.... I really don't believe it. You have moved up in the world since.... before.'

'Things have changed,' she said softly. 'Few of them for the better. Sinoval can be a force for great good, if he wishes to be. I.... took on my role to ensure that everything he does is for good.... I tried, but.... some.... things....'

'This would be the warrior? What was his name?'

'Kozorr. He is.... gone. Please.... do not....'

Sherann nodded, swallowing. 'I understand.' She was just grateful Kats had not asked about Inesval. She had seen his body, and the things the warriors had done to it.

'Sinoval will be here tomorrow. You can speak to him then.'

'And he will listen to me?'

'Yes. He will listen.'

* * *

'I don't believe it. I'll be damned. Guess the R'Gov finally did something useful.'

Dexter Smith was not listening. He was still staring at the vidscreen. The sports results had resumed, but flashing at the bottom of the screen was the news report. .... war criminal Delenn captured by Resistance Government forces. For more information check....

'Turn that thing off,' said Talia angrily.

Zack shrugged. 'Off.' Smith shook his head and turned back to the man on the sofa. Zack was still munching at his pizza. 'You've met her, haven't you?' he remarked

'What do you mean?'

'You've met her. Delenn. I've seen her a couple of times. While I was on the Babylon, of course. She was completely Minbari for a while, and then she was.... really weird-looking. Sort of half-human, half-Minbari but not quite either. Freaked me out, it did. I guess she's perfected the process since then. Some of the guys down the station actually think she's kind of hot-looking.' Zack shook his head. 'Takes all kinds, huh?' He looked at Smith, and sighed. 'Oh, yeah, you've met her.'

'Once.... yes....'

Zack began to chuckle. 'You thought she was pretty hot yourself, didn't you? Sheesh! What is it about alien women that affects some men? I mean me.... I'd much rather take a look at that pretty not bad piece beside you.... er.... no offence intended.'

'Believe me,' Talia said. 'Of all the things I might take offence at about you, the fact that you find me attractive won't be one.'

Zack thought about that for a moment. 'So.... was that a compliment?'

'No.'

'Oh.... Oh well. Pity. Was beginning to think I was in there.'

'Dexter, wake up!' Talia said sharply. Smith blinked, and then seemed more alert. 'Glad you're still with us. You, Allan.... for the last time.... what is Trace up to with IPX?'

'I told you, I don't know. You could read my mind and find out, assuming you haven't already, I guess. Look.... it's like this. Mr. Trace is a good man. He's a businessman. He's brought a lot of money and jobs and even a little respect into this sector, and God knows how long it's been since we had any of the last one.

'Now, if from time to time, he, as a respected civic figure and member of the community, wants certain matters attended to by the Security Forces, who are after all paid for by his tax money, then it's my duty to help out in any way I can, right?

'However, I don't know a thing about IPX, telepaths, big large-scale conspiracies, or the grassy knoll. Any more questions?'

'Yes, here's one,' said Talia. 'What's to stop me shooting you right here and now?'

'Well, three answers to that one. First, that'd be first degree murder in cold blood of a Security officer, and I'm fairly sure the Wartime Emergency Provisions have that little one down in the death penalty section of the rules.

'Secondly, you're a pretty nice-looking lady, and I'm sure you wouldn't shoot someone in cold blood.

'And thirdly.... what was it thirdly...?'

Talia suddenly started, and looked around. She swore. 'Too long! Come on!' There was the sound of footsteps outside the window.

'Oh yeah, thirdly.... the Security guys that have just surrounded the place are going to stop you. You see, on a scale of one to ten.... how thick do you think I am? Yeah, the security system on the apartment's patheticness personified, but there's enough high-tech camera stuff around here to alert the station if any undesirables come calling. They certainly took their time though.'

Talia was still swearing. Smith looked at Zack. 'Maybe.... but you're stuck in here with us.'

'You think? Nah. You're stuck in here with me. I've done a few hostage situations, and believe me, if you want to try and stick this thing out, both of you are going out of here in a bag. Probably the same bag, you know how it is with budget cutbacks.

'On the other hand, give yourselves up now, and.... well.... you'll get a couple of days longer at least, and someone might even put in a good word for you. You never know.

'So.' He finished off his pizza. 'What d'you say?'

* * *

He has long ago forgotten the place or date of his birth. These are facts that hold no importance for him now. He may once have had a name, but if so it has been lost for millennia. He probably once had futile ambitions, but on the day he looked upon the Well of Souls he realised just how pointless they were.

He does not even know for sure exactly how old he is. He is not the oldest of the order, but he is close.

He has seen civilisations rise and fall, great empires, great wonders. He has saved politicians and warriors and poets and writers. From their dreams, which have become a part of his own, he has seen mysteries long gone, and lived among peoples dead for millennia.

The Primarch Majestus et Conclavus of the Order of Soul Hunters can feel change. He can feel it now. The whispers of the Well of Souls have told him that change is inevitable. The future he has seen will come to pass.

But the one lesson the Soul Hunters have remembered from their founders is that nothing is written in stone. A lesson their new Primarch Nominus et Corpus would have welcomed gladly.

Before Sinoval came he had not left Cathedral at all in a thousand years, not since he had met Valen on the shifting sands of the world the Minbari had called Iwojim. Since Sinoval's arrival he has seen more of the peoples of this day and age. He has seen the Great Machine, he has seen Minbar again, and other places, other worlds.

He will leave Cathedral again once more after this. And soon.

But for now, he is thinking of another. Sinoval, the one the Well of Souls has been speaking of for so long, is walking a dark road, a path that may consume him, and in doing so destroy the order, and Cathedral, and most importantly the Well of Souls. There is only one person who might be able to divert him from that path.

The Primarch stood alone on the pinnacle of Cathedral, looking out at the world beneath him. Tarolin 2, a minor, insignificant world that had become notorious and important only recently. He could feel her there. Her soul was intertwined with Sinoval's. She was the light to his dark, the calm to his anger, the conscience to his soul.