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

him. Sheridan was reckless, yes, but never foolish.

There was something all of them were missing, but in spite of voicing his concerns to Ryan, Tikopai and Barns, and in spite of pondering it for the hours they were waiting, he still could not see it.

The nearby probes had picked up the Alliance fleet. They were making no effort at all to hide their approach.

DeClercq sat forward. He would not run. Not this time. Proxima was not Earth, but it was their home, and he would not abandon it.

A million jump gates opened, and the war fleet of the United Alliance appeared in the skies above Proxima 3. Space shimmered, and the Shadows were there to meet them.

* * *

We do not understand where we have failed the Z'ondar. We acted in what we believed to be his best interests. But we must accept his words, even if we do not comprehend them.... and we will hope that some day.... we will be able to make amends for the sin we do not understand.

And that in some way.... we will be able to serve him again.

Marrain stepped forward, falling silent. He remembered those words, to the exact letter. He had been present when they were spoken, Zarwin's last words to the Minbari as he went into exile. The Tak'cha carrying the staff stiffened. He clearly recognised the words as well.

'Who are you?' asked the Tak'cha, barely–restrained anger in his voice. He spoke Minbari fluently. 'Who are you to desecrate this shrine?'

'Desecration? Hardly. I was here when this shrine was built. I spoke to Zarwin as he left here. He once told me that I would always be friend to the Tak'cha.... to the Unatoned.'

'Who are you?'

'I am Marrain.'

There were murmurs of anger at this revelation. They would think it a lie. They would have to. Everyone knew that Marrain must be dead by now. But did they know how he had died? Did they know how he had betrayed their precious Z'ondar?

'I am Sah'thai Vhixarion of the Unatoned,' said the leader. 'And you are a liar. Marrain, our friend and ally, is dead.'

'And yet I stand here. Alive.' Dead. He was dead. They were dead. Everyone was dead. 'I was there at the first meeting with Zarwin. I guarded the Z'ondar at Mount H'leya. I fought alongside him.'

'Then how do you live? How do you stand here?'

'The Z'ondar disappeared into the chariot of ages, did he not? He did not die, no more than did I. Death and life are the same, one circle. One unity. One life. One death.'

'Why are you here?'

'To help you. To help you atone.' Something at the back of his mind was burning. He could feel it. Who was he talking to? Vhixarion, or Zarwin? 'As the Z'ondar would have wished.' Fire. There was fire everywhere. 'To prepare for his return.'

Vhixarion looked at him, his wide dark eyes exploring him. He made to speak, and then stopped.

Those who will not follow you into fire, into darkness, into death.... they do not deserve to follow you. And so, instead, they must precede you.

The words came from nowhere, from in front of them, from around them. Suddenly, in an eerie shimmering, there appeared two figures, transparent as glass, but clearly defined as a reflection in a still pond. Everyone knew who they were.

How.... could you? Have you no compassion? Have you no care for the helpless?

There was a whispered hush among the Tak'cha and they all slowly sank to their knees, heads bowed. Only Vhixarion dared to keep looking at the ghosts before him.

We care only to glorify your name, Valen.... We must be true to ourselves above all else, and as we see fit, we will....

Get out!

The Tak'cha shook at the force of Valen's words. Some stumbled backwards, making to leave, imagining their great Z'ondar to be addressing them directly.

I will not have innocent beings slaughtered in my name.

But.... you need us as allies.

We will manage without you. Now leave.

'Our sin,' whispered Vhixarion. He turned to Marrain. 'What was our sin? The Yolu would not ally themselves with the Z'ondar. They would not pledge themselves to his holy crusade. We were right to chastise them. They would not follow him into fire, into darkness, into death. They should therefore precede him.

'We do not understand. The great Zarwin, the first Sah'thai - he did not understand, and we have not a tenth of his wisdom. The Z'ondar has surely sent you to us for enlightenment, Marrain. Tell us....

'What was our sin?'

Marrain's eyes were dark. He could see flames licking around him. He could see another ghost. His own, standing here, facing Valen after Zarwin's exile. Words had been exchanged. A weapon raised.

Marrain began to laugh, although whether in the present or the past, he could not be sure.

* * *

Two dead men.

The air was thick and heavy, hot. It seemed to crackle. At David Sheridan's side, two Shadows bristled with anger at the sight of their oldest enemy before them.

'How long have you been here?' he asked.

'We have always been here,' Clark said, in a voice that was not his own. 'Always. We were content to wait, and watch. When you came to try to bend this man to your will, we waited until we were ready, until you were obscured by your own concerns, and then we moved. We blasted your symbiont from his body and took it for our own.'

'How long have you been controlling him?'

'We do not control him. Everything he has done, he has done himself.'

<Humanity is ours,> hissed the Shadow at Sheridan's side.

'They have always been ours,' said Clark, light pouring from his eyes. He took a step backwards, keeping his desk between him and the Shadows. 'We have always been here.'

<You have lost.>

'Yes,' Clark said with a smile. 'We have lost.'

Sheridan took another step forward. Something about this made no sense. Clark looked so confident, as if everything was going according to some plan. The Alliance fleet would be here soon, but they were expected. The Shadow ships were also here. The fight would be difficult, yes, but the Alliance would be outnumbered, by the Earthforce fleet, the Shadows, the planetary defence grid....

No, he did not like the feel of this at all.

Clark took another step back. He was against the wall now. Sheridan came forward slowly, moving around the desk. The Shadows followed him, their anger evident in the dark song of their movements.

Clark's face smiled again. 'We have lost,' he said. 'And in that, we have won. Soon you will understand.' The light faded from his eyes, and he was himself once again. 'They are happy to let me say one last thing to you, Ambassador,' he said in his own voice.

'I never liked you.'

His arm darted out and he tapped something on the wall. The lights suddenly went out and there was a sliding noise. Sheridan tried to move forward, but he could not see, and the edge of the desk struck against his hip. There was the sound of a scuffle, and a furious shriek from one of the Shadows. A moment later there was the sound of a door slamming shut.

He managed to scramble to his feet, knowing that the backup lighting would come on in a few moments. When it did he saw that Clark had vanished. There was a splatter of blood on the wall, and one of the Shadows lay broken and dead on the floor. The other was furiously hacking at the wall.

'Secret passage,' Sheridan spat. 'No! We don't have time for that. They have some sort of plan. We have to