A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 5 : Among the Stars, like Giants. Prologue : The Missing Year

her anger consuming her too much lately.

'Sinoval is gone,' Takier had said. 'He has left Minbari space and informed us that he will not return. We do not know where he has gone. He has no authority or power over any of Minbari blood now, and we have no power over him. Is that enough for you?'

'No. I am instructed to question those of you who knew him best. As former Satai Kozorr is dead, I will question Satai Kats.'

'No, you will not,' said Takier calmly. 'She is one of us, and she is protected by the power of the Grey Council.'

'I have the authority. The treaty by which you joined the Alliance confers the necessary powers on me, and on any delegated representative of the Vorlon High Command. Refuse me, and we will return in force.'

'We will inform the Alliance Council of this,' Takier warned.

'Feel free to do so.'

'I will submit to your questioning,' Kats said suddenly. 'I know nothing of where Sinoval has gone, or of his plans.'

'That is not enough. I must be sure.'

'Then make yourself sure.'

Then had followed pain. She had followed his directions and arranged a private room for the interrogation, a place he no doubt hoped would conceal the screams, but so far there had been no screams.

'Where is Sinoval the Accursed?'

'I do not know,' she whispered. Her robe of mourning white was stained by her own blood. She did not remember having been cut, but the rod Sebastian wielded had inflicted enough pain without breaking the flesh.

'Where has he gone?'

'I do not know.'

'We will find him, and when we do we will destroy him, and then we will destroy all those who helped to hide him.'

'You cannot win,' she breathed. 'I cannot tell you what I do not know. All you can do is kill me, and that…. that I would welcome.' Wait for me, Kozorr. I love you.

'No,' he said simply. 'I will not kill you. You will kill yourself. Suicide is a sin for the Minbari, is it not? A commandment from Valen himself. And you will not merely kill yourself, you will kill all the Minbari who hope that Sinoval the Accursed will come to them.'

'I do not know where he is,' she whispered.

'I will return,' he said simply. 'And when I do, I will bring you his head. Think about that. Remember that, as I plague your dreams.'

'I will not dream about you,' she whispered. 'That is the only power you have over me…. to make me fear you. You can hurt me, but I have been hurt before. You can kill me, but that will be a release. All you can do is make me fear you…. but I do not, and I never will.

'When you find Sinoval, he will kill you.'

'We will see,' Sebastian said simply. 'We will see.' The echoes of his footsteps and the hollow tapping of his strange cane faded away into silence.

Kats lay still for a long time, her body aching, burning. She could not move, could hardly breathe. She could feel Kozorr's spirit with her, whispering always of how much he loved her, and of how aware he had been of her love for him. Tears slid down her face, mingling with the rivulets of her blood.

Finally, Tirivail arrived and carried her to a clean room, where she slept for many hours. Kozorr was in her dreams. Sebastian was not.

* * *

The first true test of the post — war Alliance was undoubtedly the difficulties with one of its founding members. Under Ambassador Vizhak, the Drazi had always been committed to the Alliance, but the burdens and expense of the war soon caused problems at home. Drazi pride and ferocity always placed them in the thick of any fighting, and as a result their losses had been horrendous. The prestige attracted by carrying the Blessed Delenn offset this a little, but a growing sense of dissatisfaction with the Alliance was spreading, bolstered by a — perhaps justified — belief that they were not being given a large enough role in the new order, and that their objections were being ignored.

An attempt had already been made to regain control of Kazomi 7, originally a Drazi world. This was ultimately averted by the presence and personal charisma of Delenn herself, but that was no more than a stop — gap solution.

The early months of 2262 saw the Drazi colonies gripped by rioting and political uproar. The anti — Alliance fervour reached fever pitch. The Drazi Government refused to pay their share of the vast sums of money required to build the Babylon 5 space station, seeing it both as a waste of money and a rejection of their world as the centre for the Alliance. The Government collapsed and a new one was eventually chosen in the traditional Drazi fashion of extreme and bloody violence. This ritual began before the usual time, which should have been in late 2263, and this was a bad omen.

Ambassador Vizhak, one of the Alliance's most loyal supporters in the Drazi Government — not that the Alliance ever saw that part of him — was recalled to a minor position, and a replacement assigned, a figure much less welcome to the Alliance than Vizhak had been….

BARRINGER, S. (2293) Shadows on the Border: The Drazi Conflict. Chapter 7 of

The Rise and Fall of the United Alliance, the End of the Second Age and

the Beginning of the Third, vol. 3, 2262: The Missing Year. Ed: S. Barringer,

G. Boshears, A. E. Clements, D. G. Goldingay & M. G. Kerr.

* * *

It is ironic, thought Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, as he sat in the Council Hall of the United Alliance, listening with greater and greater unease to the figure speaking before them all. All of us, myself included, had thought only of the end of the war. We had envisaged a thousand years of peace stretching out before us.

None of us had imagined that the thousand years of peace would require so much work.

Juphar Trikdar was still speaking, his voice commanding and powerful. He spoke all the languages of the Alliance fluently, G'Kar knew that, and currently he was addressing them in the Common Trade language. He was a magnificent orator, and G'Kar, who had done more than his share of public speaking in his time, recognised the little details, the tiny clues that confirmed that.

He also recognised the sheer contempt in the Drazi's voice, something he took no pains to hide.

The long scar across Juphar's mouth twitched and danced as he spoke, a snake crawling across his face. It was new and jagged, a pale white flickering reminder that there could never be peace, not entirely.

Less than half a year after the Shadow War ended, violence had come to the worlds of the Alliance. Everyone on Kazomi 7 had heard about the riots and uproar on the Drazi worlds. It had seemed as if there would be fighting here as well, but the calming words of the Blessed Delenn — and a heavy military presence — had ended that threat.

They had of course offered aid to the beleaguered Drazi Government, only for Vizhak to refuse it. The riots were because of the Alliance, he pointed out. Involving Alliance troops would only make matters worse.

It had all ended soon enough, but not for the better. A new Government had been formed. New leaders had been chosen. A new Ambassador to the Alliance had been appointed. Vizhak had returned to his homeworld, to a new position. Taan Churok had remained, always having served the Alliance rather than his own people.

They had sent Juphar. G'Kar had made a point of learning as much about him as possible. He had not liked what he had heard. Juphar was renowned as a skilled orator and a tough negotiator. He was also firmly anti — Alliance. He had been scarred during the rioting while delivering a powerful speech in favour of leaving the Alliance.