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

buy or rent a shuttle. Two can go as easily as one. Are you sure you won't come?'

'I can't.'

'A waste,' she said, kneeling down. He turned to look at her, silently begging her to stay, or at least to understand. Gently, she touched her lips to his.

'Why did you do that?' he asked, puzzled, but smiling.

'Because I know you wanted me to, and I knew you wouldn't do it yourself. I'm a telepath, remember. And so are you.' She rose to her feet and began to walk away. 'If you want to come to us, just think about me hard enough. I might pick it up and find you.'

'Does dreaming count?' he whispered, but she was gone, and did not hear him.

It was at that precise moment that the figure on the bed stirred and moaned. He turned to her and saw her eyes flicker open. 'Where.... where.... am I?' she breathed.

Smith smiled. 'A safe place. Run by friends. How are you feeling? Do you want anything?'

'Weak,' she whispered. 'But.... I will be better.... Something to drink?'

'I'll get you something now.' He stood up and turned to the nearby sink. As he poured a glass of water he looked up and thought he saw Talia watching him, but it was just a whisper in his mind, and then it was gone completely.

But he had a strange feeling he would see her again, before the end.

* * *

Ritual was important. Ritual, ceremony, pomp, pageantry. It was a mark of tradition, and tradition was little else than ruling simply because you and yours had always ruled. Ritual confirmed all these things. Without it.... what was the point in ruling?

They had gone by different names at different times, these secret masters of humanity, a conspiracy of information and knowledge, which were power both in and of themselves. They were a guiding hand upon the human race, controlling politics and destinies, shaping the future. Few suspected that they had been responsible for what little salvation there was from the Minbari War, or the part they had played in winning allegiances from alien races in its aftermath. The scientists who had studied Minbari technology and worked on the new Earthforce Shadow destroyers did so with their blessing.

Those who did anything without their blessing tended to.... disappear.

They worked not for Vorlon or Shadow, not for good or evil, order or chaos. They worked for humanity. Or so they thought.

They had gone by many names. In the recent past they had been called Bureau 13. Now, they were the Round Table.

A matter of ritual again.

Ambassador Sheridan, who had managed to manipulate even these master manipulators, had become their 'King Arthur', their prime among peers, the first among equals. Subtly, slightly, he had nudged their course to suit that of his allies.

But he has been away for too long, and the power focus has moved.

Names do not matter. All those present have names of their own, as well as the names they take for purposes of ritual. Knowing either can be dangerous. Knowing both can be fatal.

'They are coming.'

'The Alliance ships have abandoned their progress into the Vega system and they are gathering together. The Dark Star ships, the Drazi and Brakiri fleets, and various support vessels of the other races. Our sources on Kazomi Seven and among the fleets indicate they are coming here. Our outer probes will pick up their arrival soon.'

'What is their purpose? Need we begin an evacuation?'

'Their purpose is to deal with Clark and the Shadows. They do not intend the destruction of civilian or economic targets. It is likely, judging by their actions on Beta Durani, that they will institute a brief period of martial law during which a purge of all members of the Government involved with the Shadows will be carried out. A new, provisional Government will be formed, with free elections likely to follow, probably by the end of the year.'

'Are we in danger?'

'We can hide from any purge. Our friend is willing to help hide those of us who are more visible.' Few would have anything to worry about. Ambassador Sheridan was the only one here who could be recognised. Invisibility is the greatest defence of all. The greatest trick the devil pulled on the world was convincing it he did not exist. For the Round Table, it is the same.

'We will also be able to achieve sufficient control over the new order. Estimates indicate, if the Alliance is victorious, an eight percent loss of operational efficiency for the next six months. If the Alliance fails then there are many other variables to consider, particularly the fact that they will try again. At present the statistics are officially sixty to seventy percent chance of victory for Clark. Unofficially, based on our.... select information, assuming the network operates as planned, Alliance victory is eighty–six percent likely.'

'King Arthur' sat forward. 'We will take action to alter these odds,' he said quickly. The network? What the hell was that?

'No. The alliance with the Shadows and the support of Clark's Government has served us well enough, but it is now time to abandon them both. We will take no action.'

Sheridan sat back, eyes burning behind his mask. There would be no changing the strategy of these people. It could not be done. Yet. For now, he had bigger concerns. Deal with Clark, deal with the Alliance fleets and then....

Then he would come back and destroy this Round Table once and for all. His membership had served him well enough.

But it was now time to abandon them.

The meeting ended a few minutes later, and Sheridan left in a hurry.

* * *

The room was a near–identical copy of the Hall of the Grey Council. Sinoval's face was dark as he walked around it, watching the ten columns of light emerge from the darkness. A minor footnote of history, all but forgotten by Minbari historians, but not by one who could talk to those alive a thousand years ago.

'I will meet Sonovar here,' he said, his eyes closed. For a moment time faded, and he was a year in the past, the first time he had set foot on Babylon 4. He had moved forward and time had.... paused.

And he took the step into the column of light. He knew where he was, in the Hall of the Grey Council. He was alone, but he was carrying Stormbringer. One by one the columns around him lit up, and each one contained a figure. Minbari, some he knew, some he did not. All were armed.

As the last column lit up, he found himself looking at Sonovar. A body lay slumped at his feet. It was Kats. She was quite still.

Sinoval whispered her name softly, knowing he would never speak it again.

'It is over,' said Sonovar, no malice in his voice, just a finality. 'You will not leave this place, traitor. Your allies have fled, your servants are dead, and now I.... I will take our people on the path we were always meant to tread.'

'No,' was the only reply.

Sonovar raised his pike, and Sinoval could see it clearly. Durhan's blade, the one he had wielded all his life. Sonovar charged. The other eight charged. Sinoval raised Stormbringer....

.... and the central column of light went out.

Sinoval's hand reached down to caress Stormbringer. Something within it, some part of himself he had passed into the blade in its forging, hummed at his touch. 'Yes.... you, my brother of blood and war.... you will be beside me in this.'

He had remembered that vision, but he had also remembered something else. An essential truth, one he had always embraced, one Sonovar also recognised.

Great men make their own destiny. Nothing is written in stone.

And so he had manoeuvred things subtly, hoping to make such changes as were necessary. He would meet Sonovar and his allies here, not in the Hall of the Grey Council. Maybe this was as it had always been meant to be: he did not know.... but he did know that he would do his best to beat them, to beat all those who opposed him.