will be given second-most priority after the movement of Alliance officials, and any delays are minimised.'
Morden stood back and looked around at the expressions of anger and disbelief. They all believed themselves immune from any harm, all of them. Simply because of accidents of birth, they held themselves inviolate. Even when former First Minister Malachi had dissolved the Centarum during the Troubles, that was accepted. Malachi had been one of them. He played the same game they did, by the same rules.
But Morden did not play their game, and he did not play by their rules. He would bring order to the Centauri Republic if he had to break every rule, shatter every tradition and tear the society apart in order to do it.
'Are there any questions?' he asked at last.
There was a flurry of comments. 'Outrageous!' was one. 'You can't do this!' was another.
Morden smiled. It was rare that duty and pleasure came together at the same time and he took care to savour every such moment when he could. 'Oh, we can do this. Read the Treaty you signed when you joined the Alliance. It gives me the authority to do exactly this.
'Your days of prestige and power are over, gentlemen. The Republic is teetering on the edge of the abyss, again. It seems that no sooner are you saved from one catastrophe than another emerges.
'I am interested in more than a mere quick fix. I will see to it that you are strengthened, fortified and made fit and ready to be a productive member of the Alliance instead of the burden and drain you all are at present.
'And, I should point out, if any of you feel you are having ideas, Captain Durla is outside this very building with an entire Imperial Legion, as well as three Inquisitors.
'You have been given your instructions. What comes from me, comes directly from the Alliance Council itself. Heed them. Defy them at your peril.
'This meeting is now over. I wish you all safe travel back to your estates, gentlemen.'
With that, he left. Maybe now he would have time to do everything that had to be done.
* * * Whispers from the Day of the Dead — VII There had not been enough time. Not nearly enough time.
How could two people undo the mistakes of an entire lifetime in one night? How could a mere few hours' words make amends for decades of recrimination and anger and pride?
Oh, he had tried. Both of them had. But there had just not been enough time, and too many memories pulling at them both.
Kulomani, Captain of the Dark Star fleet, sat alone as the Day of the Dead ended, and looked up as the comet herald faded from the skies. It would not come again in his lifetime, he knew that. Nor his son's. He wondered what would have happened had he died at any time in the war now gone. Would he have come back to meet his son? Would his son even have come to talk to him?
And would they have made even half an effort to undo everything that had passed between them? Would they even try?
'Where are you now, I wonder?' he asked himself. They were still alive, his wife, his son. Perhaps his wife had remarried. Perhaps his son was already wed by now. Could he have grandchildren he knew nothing about? It was possible. It was very possible.
Would any of them welcome him back into their lives?
Would his pride even let him try?
'We chose our own paths,' he said. 'You did not understand mine, and I do not understand yours.' Something his father had said from beyond the veil mere hours ago stayed with him.
'Why did you not want to follow me? Was a life of carving things of beauty really so terrible to you? Would you really have hated so much to follow in my footsteps?'
He had not been able to answer that. He had not been able to explain his decision to join the army all those years ago when he had left home. How could he do so now?
'We choose our own paths,' he said again.
'And only now do we realise where they've taken us,' said an unfamiliar voice. Kulomani turned to see an elderly Centauri in a military uniform sit down beside him. The length of his hair indicated he was of high rank. The Centauri sighed. 'Only now, at the end of our lives, can we see the choices we have made.'
Kulomani nodded silently.
'Whom did you wish to see?' the Centauri asked. 'Parent? Child? Friend?'
'My father.'
'Did you say everything you wished to say?'
'No. How could we, with only one night? I have been waiting for this day for so long, and now it has come and gone I feel so.... hollow. I have had my greatest chance for acceptance, and it has passed me by. And you? Who did you see?'
'I came to see my daughter, but.... I saw an old friend instead. I think I saw the person I most needed to see, not whom I most wanted to see.'
'Some have said that is the way of it. We.... understand how this night works a little. It is not something that makes sense to aliens, but most of us are able to choose whom we speak to. Yet somehow it is the strangers, the visitors, the guests, who emerge from it with the most fulfilment and understanding, while we, who are raised with the knowledge of this night, remain lost.'
Kulomani stared out into the rising daylight for a while, and then said softly. 'You are Marrago, are you not? The former Lord-General of the Centauri?'
'I am.'
'I understand your Government has placed a price on your head.'
'They have. Are you going to try to claim it?'
'No. I am a soldier, not a bounty hunter, and one old soldier can respect the decisions of another, even if we are on different sides.'
'Yes, we are on different sides, but which of us is on the right one? Are you happy with the way things are?'
'Happy? I do not think I know. The war is over. That is good.'
'And how long until another one begins?'
'That is not something I want to think about.'
'It's coming, though. You can't deny that.'
'No. I have felt something stirring, an undercurrent of.... pain and fear and anger. Soon it will all break free on the surface, and then....
'And then....'
He paused. 'I think you had better tell me everything.'
* * * Sheridan immediately took a step back, the trance that had gripped him as he had walked the dead corridors at an end. His PPG seemed to fly into his hand and he pointed it directly at Sinoval.
But the Minbari was faster still. Stormbringer flowed in his hands like water, like an extension of his self. One thrust and the gun was knocked from Sheridan's hands.
'I did not come here to fight,' Sinoval said simply.
'You could have fooled me,' Sheridan replied. 'You look like you were expecting one.'
'A wise man prepares for every eventuality, is that not so? I did not think you would welcome me kindly, Sheridan.'
'You thought right. The Alliance wants you brought in for a war crimes tribunal.'
'Oh? And what war crimes have I committed exactly? I made no bargains with the Shadows. At best, you could say I treated with one who was working with them, but that was outwith my knowledge, and she is long dead.'
'You are plotting sedition and rebellion against the Alliance.'
'How can it be rebellion? I was never sworn to the Alliance, and I never will be. The Federation joined only after I departed, remember. If you mean I am assembling forces to bring you down, then yes, I admit it. But if I am going that far, then I expect the same honesty from you, Sheridan.
'Who rules the Alliance?'
