the details of those arriving, allocating accommodation, recommending medical assistance where necessary, which was often.
Kazomi 7 was nothing if not an eclectic society these days.
Delenn heard a gruff cough beside her and she turned to see Taan Churok, the Drazi Head of Security and Minister for Defence. He had been a barkeeper before the Drakh invasion had turned him into a leader, and the birth of an Alliance had given him responsibility. His face bore a permanently unhappy expression, especially around the refugees. The Drazi were a strong race, and disliked shepherding the weak. Taan Churok would have fitted in very nicely with Sinoval, Delenn thought. Still, she found it hard to dislike him. His hearts, as the humans said, were in the right place.
'Too many of them,' he observed. 'Far too many.'
'There will be room for them,' Delenn replied firmly. That was one of her strongest beliefs. There would be room for everyone on Kazomi 7.
He gave the Drazi equivalent of a shrug. 'If you think so.'
'How goes the rebuilding work in the old Maul Sector?'
'It goes.' He nodded at a figure surrounded by Minbari. 'Tiring, he is.'
'I am not surprised,' she said softly. 'How long has it been since he slept?'
'As long as it has been since you did.' It was a fair point, one which Delenn accepted without comment. She had been on Minbar too long, away from the seat of the United Alliance, and yet she had been needed here. Now that she had returned, she was finding it hard to catch up on everything that had happened in her absence. But with John…. away, she was at least finding the time, even if there was some difficulty with the motivation.
'Still, he should rest. Surely he cannot endure much longer.'
'Know you of another with his gifts, who can do what he does?' Taan Churok's voice was disapproving. He had argued long and hard against opening Kazomi 7 to more people, and no doubt he would have been arguing even more strongly against permitting the Minbari refugees to come, had not Delenn simply overruled everyone.
'Essential he is.' He gave that Drazi shrug again.
Delenn had to agree. He was essential, and unique. Vejar was the one technomage known to have remained behind in civilised space. The others had all gone. For whatever reason, he had stayed, and had chosen to use his strange powers — not science, nor magic, but a strange mix of the two — to help protect the world he had chosen.
Delenn could see him now. He was slight, seemingly so slender as to break at a touch, and yet his young frame harboured more power than she could have believed possible.
As she watched, Vejar stepped back and ushered off another Minbari. The figure, probably a worker, smiled and walked away from him, making for the two Drazi guards who would carry out the customs check. Vejar bowed solemnly and ushered on the next one.
An important duty, but an exhausting one. Vejar had the task of protecting Kazomi 7, just as Taan Churok did, but from a different direction. While Taan Churok observed for conventional threats, Vejar looked for the…. more unconventional.
The next Minbari, an old, hobbling priest, clearly favouring her left leg, reached the technomage. She smiled benevolently as he placed his hand on her forehead.
Instantly, her whole demeanour changed. A look of insane hatred passed over her face and she lunged at the technomage, her fingers clawing for his eyes. Drazi from all around converged on her, their long, wickedly-pointed knives in their hands instantly. Vejar looked unconcerned, however. Entwining his fingers into a steeple, he took measured steps back from his assailant. With a smooth motion, he blew across the tips of his fingers.
She fell back, her weak leg giving way, sending her falling to the floor. A large hump appeared on her shoulder, one circle of light glowing from its centre.
Taan Churok growled slightly, and Delenn finally found the strength to breathe out. Just another Keeper. One of many found on Minbari refugees. One of far too many.
A tool of the Enemy. Delenn knew little of what the Keepers could do, save for what she had seen here herself. The Drakh had left many behind on Kazomi 7 before they departed, but to see them coming from beyond…. it always terrified her.
Especially on her own people.
Vejar knelt across the Minbari's prone body and raised a hand gently to halt the zealous Drazi. 'It is all right,' he assured them. 'Everything is….'
He fell silent, as did the others. Another figure walked into view, one that moved with the grace of a dancer, and the dignity of an angel. One who commanded respect and awe with every small gesture. One who belonged to legend, and to history, and to a time a thousand years gone.
It was the Minbari who spoke first, whispering in awe amongst themselves. All knew he had returned, of course. Many had seen his…. very public pronouncement at the Temple of Varenni in Yedor. Still, the rumours meant little next to the sight of the legend himself. Even Delenn, who knew as much of the truth as any mortal, found herself breathing a little more sharply.
And he began to speak, and his words reached the heart of his people. For he was Valen, the One Who Was, the legend made flesh, and his words were as unto law.
Catherine Sakai knew it was bad news when she received the memo. It was curt, very much to the point, and marked with the personal seal of Orin Zento, CEO of Interplanetary Expeditions himself. Also, and even more significantly, it was handwritten.
Catherine had never seen Zento's handwriting before, and it did not give her any sort of encouragement. It was sharp and angular, with no curves to any of the letters. The words had obviously been written quickly, with no thought other than getting the message across. There was no ostentation, no attempt to make the contents attractive. Nothing but the harshness of the script, and the personal seal. Even the signature stood alone — just Orin Zento, no hint of the many titles which made the man one of the richest and most powerful in the human race.
Catherine read the message again.
Such an event was unprecedented, and Catherine was certain she had an idea of what it was about. The collection of information, discrepancies and tantalising hints she had bundled together in what she called the G'Kar Files.
She waited outside the door to his office, the object of stern glances from the two security guards and no less harsh looks from Zento's secretary, a prim-looking woman by the name of Lise Hampton. She had known about Catherine's appointment instantly, and had made no remark about the strangeness of such an event. She had said only, 'Please wait here until Mr. Zento is ready for you,' and returned to her business.
Catherine had been waiting in silence for nearly half an hour, and she was becoming more and more agitated by the minute. That was the point, of course, but recognising it did not make the wait any easier.
Finally, after an interminable time, the door opened the briefest fraction and Hampton announced, 'He will see you now.' Swallowing harshly, Catherine entered, avoiding the suspicious stares of the towering security guards.
She blinked sharply as she walked into the room. There was a slight hiss as the door closed behind her, shutting the room in total darkness. She could see nothing, nothing at all. There was no sound either.
'Mr. Zento,' she said softly, walking forward. There was no reply. She said his name again, but still there was nothing. She winced as she bumped into something just in front of her. Feeling it gingerly she realised it was a chair.
'Sit down,' said a voice from nowhere. It was electronically distorted. Feeling her way carefully around the chair, Catherine did so. No sooner had she placed her arms on the rests than steel restraints slid out from them, trapping her there. Similar bonds wrapped around her ankles.
'A precaution, nothing more,' spoke the same electronic voice. 'I apologise for the…. awkwardness of this meeting, but it was necessary.'
'Mr. Zento?' she asked softly.
'No. He is busy elsewhere.' Even through the distortion, the politeness in the voice came through. Urbane, civilised, efficient, and no one she knew. 'I was given the task of conducting this interview.'
