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

'Delenn is dead. They killed her on Z'ha'dum, and I took the Babylon there on a stupid and foolhardy mission to try to get her back. Clark is lying when he says he has her. He's lying, and that's it. Don't you think if Delenn were still alive I'd do everything I could to try to help her? Do you think I could bear the thought of her suffering like that?

'But even if she is alive, there's nothing we can do about it. She wouldn't want us to risk any lives on futile rescue missions, you know that.

'There's nothing we can do. We'll get to Proxima when we get there, and not before.'

'But John....'

'You are dismissed, Captain.'

'What?'

'I said you are dismissed.'

'Yes, sir!'

Corwin spun on his heel and stormed from the room, not looking back to see if the Captain was picking up the reports or not. His blood was boiling and his ears stung. Why wasn't Sheridan listening to him? What was wrong?

As he left the Captain's makeshift office he almost ran into someone. Stepping back, apologising hastily, he saw it was Lyta, and his eyes brightened. He spoke her name happily. 'I haven't seen you since we got back from Z'ha'dum. I'd heard you'd recovered, but then you just disappeared. Are you feeling all...?'

Then he noticed the presence behind her. The Vorlon loomed over her, its eye piece twitching. There was the faint whisper of near–music that was its breath. It was not a Vorlon Corwin had seen before. Its encounter suit was blood–red, streaked with a dark, rusty brown. The eye stalk was sharp and curved.

'David,' Lyta said, her voice flat. 'It's good to see you. Yes, I'm fine, but I've been busy. I'm sorry.'

<Leave us,> said the Vorlon. There was a hissing vibration in its voice.

Corwin stepped aside, puzzled and angry. Lyta went into the room, the Vorlon following. The last sight Corwin had before the door shut behind them was the Captain rising from his seat, smiling broadly at the new arrivals.

* * *

Pride, it is said, is a sin. A deadly one at that. Welles had never really seen the rationale behind that. There was nothing wrong with pride so long as it did not lead to arrogance, overconfidence or stupidity.

There was little he was proud of these days, but his skill in reading people was one thing. He had been failing miserably in this area of late, what with being unable to register Clark as anything other than a complete blank, not to mention his complete loss of self–control at the sight of Delenn's green eyes.

These two, however, might as well have been an open book to him.

They were close, their body language said as much. A little more than friends, not quite lovers, although they probably would be soon. There were elements of light flirtation in their speech patterns and language tones. She was sceptical, probably by habit, but also rather shaken. Her self–confidence had been badly disturbed recently and she was not at her best. Welles was fully aware how good an infiltrator she must have been to hide under his nose on the Babylon all that time.

Smith was more of an idealist, evinced by his reasons for doing the things he was doing. Welles had dug up his background details a few months ago and found out all about his childhood in the Pit. He was the kind of person who always needed someone or something to fight, and he preferred it to be a straightforward case of black and white, good and evil.

Also, and this was a definite plus, he had met Delenn. His whole posture had changed at the mention of her name. That was good. Her green eyes had obviously worked their magic on him as well.

'More details, please,' said Talia. Her scepticism was more evident than ever.

'Delenn of Mir, former Satai of the Grey Council and current leader of the United Alliance of Kazomi Seven. Somehow, and they aren't telling us the exact details, our associates and allies managed to abduct her and bring her here to us. She is to be put on trial for war crimes, the precise charges to be determined later.

'Currently she is residing in the Maximum Security Hospital at the military base in Sector Four–o–five. She is recovering from.... complications arising from a medical operation.

'She is well guarded there, but less so than she would be in the Main Dome Security Building. We have a small window of opportunity, and so it will be necessary to act soon.'

'What do you want done with her?' asked Talia.

'Got out of there, taken somewhere safe, and as soon as is possible transferred off–world and back to Alliance space.'

'Why?'

'I.... have my reasons. Please do not ask me for details. On the other hand, you are free to read my mind to determine if this is a trap. I have been fully trained in blocking telepathic scans, but you will note I am not doing so now. I am completely genuine in my wish to see her free.'

Talia looked at Welles intently for a moment, and then she swayed. She was clearly weaker than he had thought. Whatever had shaken her it was telepathic in nature, possibly weakening her control over her power.

'He's telling the truth,' she said finally to her companion. He nodded, clearly not having suspected anything else. Talia looked back at Welles. 'What do we get out of this?'

'Information. I have been putting together a rather.... interesting dossier concerning IPX and their activities over the past few years. It is not exhaustive by any means, but it is something, and you will no doubt be able to make perfect use of it. I will also be able to arrange a flight off–Proxima for you.

'And as for you, Mr. Smith, I will organise a full–scale investigation into corruption and illicit activities in Sector Three–o–one. It will reveal enough information to take down both Mr. Trace and Mr. Allan, as well as a fair few others. I will also install a new Chief of Security for the area, and do what I can to make the sector a decent place to live. Oh, and I understand the murder charges against you personally have been dropped. I will see they are never raised again.

'Is that a fair offer?'

'Yes,' Smith said. 'We'll do it.'

'We need time to think about it,' Talia said hastily. 'How can we contact you?'

'Don't. I will contact you. Have a decision for me by this time tomorrow. Remember, we do not have much time. Nor does Delenn.

'I was not here. This conversation never took place.'

With that he left, suppressing a smile. They would do it.

* * *

Sonovar was a warrior caste Minbari, a warrior and a leader of warriors, and therefore he was one of the finest beings to walk this galaxy. No heathen alien, pathetic priestling or cringing worker could hope to be his equal, and of his fellow warriors very few were his match in anything.

There were few beings he liked, and fewer still he respected. He did not like the Tak'cha at all, but he did respect them. He admired their skill in battle, their willingness to die in a noble cause and their belief in Valen almost as much as he loathed their religious fanaticism, their incessant rituals and the prattling of their priests.

Still, he was willing to tolerate a great deal if it would bring him to his destiny as a hero. Putting up with alien customs was merely an inconvenience.

'Zaron'dar,' said one of the Tak'cha, addressing him. It was the Alyt, the Ramde as they called the rank. Cozon, that was his name. There was another figure behind him, taller and more spindly. Unlike the soldier Tak'cha Sonovar was more familiar with, this new figure was blue–skinned, or at least he appeared to be. Upon closer examination he could see it was a dye of some sort. The newcomer also wore robes of a brilliant bright red and was carrying a long staff topped with a blade made up of three sharp edges. The whole ensemble was uncannily reminiscent of the formal dress of a Satai, although clearly designed by someone who had not understood what that meant.

'The Z'ondar guide your footfalls,' Sonovar said formally, in the old dialect the Tak'cha used.

'And light your path to the future,' replied Cozon, completing the greeting. He and Sonovar both bowed. 'Zaron'dar, I have the honour to present the Light of the K'Tarr, the Bearer of the Tri–lahr and the Guardian of the Book of Atonement. This is Sah'thai Vhixarion, leader of the Tak'cha shipworlds.'