'You chose to side with one who has abandoned everything from our past. You have turned your backs on the Grey Council, on Valen's wisdom and laws, on centuries of tradition, and duty, and honour. Some of you did so through weakness, others through cowardice, others through fear. And some of you…. those who are now dead…. they did so because they shared in the sacrilege and the wrongs of Sinoval.'
How long until Sinoval arrived? Not long, according to the probes. He had made the journey at a considerable pace. It was after all a very long way from Epsilon Eridani to the Tarolin system. The very outlying nature of the colony was what had saved it from the Earthers in the first place.
'I am a kind and benevolent leader. I have punished only those who acted deliberately in their wrongdoing. Those of you who were weak, or afraid, or cowardly…. You, I have let live, to reflect on your flaws. Remember me, and remember what brought me here. I am Sonovar, of the Night Walkers clan, and I will redeem my people in Valen's eyes…. before we can be ready to embrace him once more.'
The signal stopped, and Sonovar stepped from the column of light. He felt the faintest tinge of a headache developing. The stress of the last few days, obviously.
Kats was on the surface now. What she was doing, he had no idea. As long as she lived to present her message to Sinoval, it hardly mattered. In many ways, he reflected, she herself was the message.
'You are finished here, my lord?'
Sonovar started and turned, an angry curse on his lips. Forell. He breathed out harshly. 'Yes, I am finished. Put me through to the Ramde, and then we will be ready to leave. All the Tak'cha have been recalled from the planet?'
'Yes, lord. Are you well? You look….'
'You are not my nursemaid, Forell! Do not forget your place here!'
'Yes, lord. As you say, lord. It…. it has been a productive trip here, has it not, lord?'
'Yes,' Sonovar said, reflecting. 'A very productive trip.'
Lord-General Marrago stood amidst the ruins of a dream, and pondered the future. Debts of loyalty had bound him his entire life: to friends, to those who served under him, to the young woman he had taken as his daughter. He did not even know if Lyndisty was still alive. Given the news coming in from the capital, it seemed doubtful.
He was listening silently as Durano relayed his information. The man had agents everywhere, a great many of them in the capital.
Durano, Virini and Timov had come to Gallia almost immediately after the city had been secured. Marrago would have much preferred it had they stayed in Selini. For all their respective eminence they were all civilians, and they could not understand the ways of warfare. He did, all too well.
Durano finished, and Marrago looked around at his companions. He had been able to work out much of what Durano had just told him. Marrago himself had only one real agent in the capital, but given Carn's current placing in affairs there, that was enough. In any case, all that was truly needed was a good mind, and Marrago had that. Unfortunately, so did Durano. And Timov and Virini for that matter….
'We have to do something,' said Timov quickly. 'Londo could still be alive in the capital.'
'That is doubtful,' Marrago said softly.
'You don't know that.'
'No, but I promise you, Timov, I pray that Londo is still alive, but I am a soldier, and a soldier's hearts have no room for futile hopes.'
'Ah, but Lord-General,' said Durano, 'Lord Valo is also a solider, is he not? His attack on the Court would seem to indicate that he is convinced he can win.'
'Maybe not. Valo was always a little over-confident. Still, in this case his ambitions do not far outreach his capabilities. If our information is right about the size of his forces, he should be able to take the Court.'
'And if he has the Court, then he has the Republic,' spoke up Virini. Marrago looked at him, and could see just what it was Londo liked about the little man.
'Which brings me back to my point,' snapped Timov. 'We have to do something. Not just for Londo, but for the Republic itself. Bad enough we had to abandon Camulodo, but if we cannot act now then we will lose the capital…. or there will be nothing left to save.'
Marrago sighed. 'My lady…. our forces are stretched too far as it is. We are barely able to hold the territory we have at the moment. Should any sort of counterstrike be mounted we would be hard pressed to defend ourselves. We simply do not have the military strength necessary to take the capital. I had…. hoped that we could destabilise Valo from within and bring him over to our side, but it seems that is a futile hope now.'
'Then I will go alone,' Timov announced. 'You were a good friend of Londo's, Marrago, but you have lost sight of what we are trying to achieve. We are going to save this planet, not let it burn and pick up the pieces.'
'She is right, Lord-General,' spoke up Durano, his piercing gaze locked with Marrago's. 'If we do not act now, there will be little left to save.'
'Londo gave me full authority on military matters, if you remember? If we go for the capital now, we will literally be throwing everything on one roll of the dice. Londo may have been a gambling man in his younger days, but I am not. No true soldier is.'
'Sometimes we have to gamble to win,' said Timov.
Marrago looked slowly into the eyes of each one of them: Timov quietly determined, blithely convinced; Virini afraid, but certain; and Durano silently mocking. O
'Very well,' Marrago said finally. 'I will gather all the resources I can and we will launch an assault on the capital. I only pray that we manage to emerge from this safely.'
'So do we all,' added Durano.
'Help is coming. There is nothing to fear, Ta'Lon.'
Valen knew the value of all the weapons at his disposal, as did any good leader. He knew how to use a fighting pike, how to wield a sword, a shanmari and any one of countless other alien weapons, some of which had not been used by any living being for centuries. Of course he had not yet been taught how to use such weapons, but that hardly mattered.
His greatest weapon, however, was his voice. This one he had used before, and he had witnessed its power even in this time. Seldom before, though, had his weapon of choice had so little effect.
'Help will be coming, yes…. but the Enemy will be here sooner. We must regroup.'
It was almost refreshing not to know what would happen next. Or it would be refreshing if the situation were not so serious.
'Where is the Vorlon, anyway?' Ta'Lon asked. 'We could need him.'
'He has…. gone somewhere,' Valen acknowledged. He did not really know, in truth, but he trusted Kosh. 'He will return when we need him.'
Babylon 4 had entered the temporal rift with little problem, save for those Shadows which had already got on board. Somehow they were unaffected by the temporal instabilities of the rift. Also aboard was their agent, Susan Ivanova, who had managed to escape during the frantic preparations for the trip. Ta'Lon and his Rangers had been fighting a desperate holding action against them, but it was clear that they were losing.
And then the station had emerged from the rift, two years in the past, above an Epsilon 3 and a Great Machine that had yet to witness the sheer bloodshed being delivered in its skies. A ship was there, a human ship. And there were two very special people on board.
'Oh, dear,' said Zathras. '<Click, click> This not good.'
'What?' asked Valen. 'What is it?'
The little alien looked up from the consoles. 'Temporal machinery is damaged. Stray blast from battle, Zathras thinks. We must repair, and quickly.'
'Where is this piece of machinery?'
'Outside. Near ion engines. Very delicate area. Yes. Must repair.'
'Outside the station? Can you manage to repair it?'
'We have parts, yes. We have tools, also. But…. ah…. we not have space suit to fit Zathras. Zathras cannot breathe in space, and there not be space suits to fit Zathras. Therefore, Zathras cannot go outside. Zathras needs
