newest model, and bordering on the illegal.
They had led him to another room and left him there. Neither of them had said a word.
He winced at the pain in his side and sat down, looking around him. Flashes were beginning to come back to him now. He and Talia had tried to escape from Allan's apartment, but Security had caught them. There had been a fight and.... He sighed and rubbed at his head. This was all so pointless. Why even bother fighting? They weren't going to win.
He looked around, a dark mood settling over him. He did not know where this was, but it was not a Security holding cell or an interrogation room. It looked more like a private living room, albeit one carefully cleared of everything apart from the most basic furniture.
'Feel free to make yourself comfortable, Mr. Smith,' said a voice from nowhere, and he started. Looking up, he saw the commconsole high in the wall, and sighed. The screen was blank and the voice electronically distorted. 'My doctors have assured me you will recover well. Nothing is broken beyond repair. I apologise for the.... over- zealousness of the security guards who arrested you.'
'Who are you?' he asked. 'This doesn't look like a Security cell.'
'It isn't. I am.... merely a private citizen with a certain influence in various parts of the Government. My name, I fear, must remain a secret for the time being, although a time may come when that will change. Feel free to make yourself at home.'
Smith sat back. 'So, what's this all about then? What do you want with me?'
'A dangerous question, Mr. Smith, but to answer.... I merely wish to talk. There are certain matters to be negotiated concerning the long-term future of our race. You may have a vital part to play in such a future.'
'Yes? Where's my friend?'
'You mean Miss Winters? Or whatever name she happens to be going by at present. There is no reason to worry, Mr. Smith. She is perfectly safe, and in good hands. I felt it better that this be a private discussion, at first anyway.
'So.... let us talk....'
Talia's eyes flickered open, and her first instinct was to try to move. She could not. Her arms and legs were secured. She looked down and saw green vines holding her body in place. She pulled at them, and a sudden shock tore through her body.
'Where am I?' she asked, not so much expecting an answer, but more to discover if there was anyone around to hear her. There was no audible reply, not even the sound of breathing. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind.
Something burst open, and in an instant all her psi blocks and walls collapsed. A brilliant flash of light filled her mind, and all her thoughts and memories were laid bare.
<Show us,> said a voice. <Show us.>
There was an agonising burst of pain, and she shook with the intimacy of the violation. An instant before she passed out she did something she could not recall ever having done before.
She screamed.
Chapter 3
The city of Yedor had been renowned for many things before its devastation. It was of course the capital of the Minbari Federation, and while the elusive and mysterious Grey Council was not based in the city, many of the Government buildings were.
Even apart from its political significance, Yedor had had much to attract visitors. One of the oldest cities in any civilised world, it was home to many wonders. Libraries, Halls of Records, cathedrals, temples. Monuments, shrines, artificers with skill in the shaping of crystal and stone and metal.
But one of the most beautiful buildings in the city was the Temple of Varenni. It was not the largest temple in Yedor, but it possessed an indefinable beauty and mystery. It was also home to the Starfire Wheel, an ancient weapon few understood. It was there, a thousand years ago, that Valen had been proved worthy in his trial by fire. He had remained in the Starfire Wheel past the point when he should have died, and thus the universe had signalled he had a great destiny to fulfill.
No one knew the exact reason for the construction of the Temple, and few suspected there was anything unusual about it. Of those who did, none grasped the truth, not even Primarch Sinoval the Accursed, who had accomplished the same miracle here as Valen had. Sinoval had access to all the sources of knowledge that could have told him the secrets behind the Temple, but he did not care to look, and he would not have heeded if he had.
Deep within the surface of the earth, in catacombs no Minbari had entered in hundreds of years, there lay a tomb. A Vorlon had been buried there, many centuries ago. A holy figure, even a prophet. The Vorlons had never failed to honour and venerate this spot, and when Minbar had been attacked they had come to ensure it survived.
And now they intended to bring an end to one of their greatest enemies, trusting to the holiness of this place to bring them success.
It is an ancient law, so old it is almost forgotten. It concerns innocent blood, and the shedding of it on holy ground.
There is a Vorlon in Yedor, a young one by the standards of its race. It is to be both the bait, and the trap itself. It knows what is expected of it. It knows that it is sometimes necessary to die for the sake of a worthy cause. It hears the words of the innocent, telling it that he is here. The Accursed One. He is here, and is desecrating their holiest place.
Another might be angry at being expected to walk into such an obvious trap, but the Vorlon does not care, does not heed. The Accursed One is dangerous, yes, and can hurt its kind. But this battle will be fought on holy ground. How can it fail?
The Vorlon pauses as it nears the door to the Temple of Varenni, and something within its ageless soul shivers. The damage to the temple has been repaired. The prophet of old buried here will surely smile upon its children.
She speaks again, urging it on. It moves, and senses the Accursed One within this holy place. It is ready. It is ready to die, and it will do so for the good of its people.
The holy warmth of the Temple of Varenni welcomed the Vorlon.
Primarch Sinoval the Accursed did likewise.
Talia Winters has known she was a telepath since she was a child. Since the explosion of her abilities she had been taught how to construct walls, how to guard against the thoughts of mundanes, how to block their dirty, ugly, foul minds.
Still there were voices, but little more than background chatter. She could ignore them, with sufficient concentration. She had been taught very well how to concentrate.
The walls had only ever come down when she was with Al. She did not mind their absence then. She could feel the warm glow of his love for her, for all their people. She could sense his concerns and his fears for the future, but that was what came with leadership. More than once she had wished she were stronger than a mere P5, and better able to help him.
He had smiled at these thoughts. 'You are perfect the way you are,' he had said, sweetly and sadly.
So she had learned to compensate for her limited abilities. Skill in infiltration, in disguise, in assassination. But she was a telepath first and foremost. She had learned to use her abilities for the benefit of all her people, setting aside ethics and morality for the greater good.
But the walls were always there.
Not any more.
She wasn't sure if she was still screaming, or if the noise was only in her mind. She was being invaded, a brilliant, blinding light piercing her mind, shattering her barriers completely. Her every thought was there for the
