Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке

streets. We will provide a safe escort for you and your companion.' Londo hesitated, and the guard continued. 'He also said, if you proved suspicious, to remind you of your shoes. He hopes they are not too tight any more.'

Londo relaxed. 'Well, that means at least that you came from Malachi himself. Stand down, Lennier. We will go with these men.' He went back to the flyer and turned to the pilot.

'Take up a safe position some distance from here. Come back and check this place every hour, on the hour. If we are not here in six hours, then leave and tell the Government at Selini that we are lost.'

'Yes, Governor.'

Londo turned back to his escort. 'Merely a precaution. Well, then, Captain…. let us go.'

* * *

She has seen death, too much death. She has known war, far too much of it. She has stood, high and imperious, as others bled and fought and died in her name. She has tried to renounce these old ways and embrace a new path, but conflict seems to follow the fallen Satai Delenn wherever she goes.

She remembers the title she gave to Captain Smith. Zha'valen. Outcast. A shadow upon Valen. She has not thought of that title in months, not since she took on a new position of power, one which she swore not to abuse in the way she had the last.

And yet she has brought her people, her followers, her friends, and the man she loves above all else, to this place…. and the war seems to have followed them.

Her incarceration in the brig had been short-lived, as some of G'Kar's Narn Rangers had managed to free her within hours. The fighting for the station had been brief, but bloody. Captain Smith had left many of his Security officers here, and Delenn had no doubt they were trained to the pinnacle of human efficiency. But this was not their home, they did not believe as the Narns did, they had not been trained to give their lives for the greater good, as the Narns had….

They were not Rangers.

Looking at them, talking to them, being with them, Delenn felt a brief surge of pride. These were truly as the Rangers of old, of Valen's day. She and those like her might have failed in their duties, but the gauntlet had been picked up, and was being wielded with the iron glove of the warrior and the open palm of the peacemaker.

But for all the pride she felt, there was an equal amount of guilt. The gauntlet should never have been thrown down in the first place. How different would things have been if the sin of pride had never overtaken her people?

She walked on to the command deck of the station, to find Lethke already there. He turned to greet her, and managed a faint smile. 'Delenn…. it is good to see you are safe.'

'Are any of us truly safe? How is it going?'

'Ah, I chose to study economics rather than warfare, and so I can't really say. The odds, however, look to be against us. Taan Churok has taken his personal flyer and is joining our ships, but…. there seems to be rather a lot of them.'

'Anything from the planet?'

'No. Not a word. I fear it has been compromised.'

Delenn closed her eyes, and thought of G'Kar…. warrior and peacemaker in one. If he had fallen, then…. No. Time for doubts later. She knew full well the importance of this place, and just how much it had to be protected.

She turned to the leader of the Rangers who had rescued her. 'G'Dok, how much control do we have over the weapons?'

'All we need.'

'Good…. we have to try to take out the weapons systems of the enemy ships. Drive them away if possible. Is…. is the weaponry here capable of doing that?'

'Babylon Four was built as a place of war just as much as a place of peace. We can do that.'

Delenn nodded and smiled, noting that some of the Rangers were already on post. She did not involve herself, but she did walk to the front of the control room, the better to see the state of the battle, and those who were dying.

G'Dok barked out something in his own language. He was evidently concerned. Delenn was about to ask him what he had discovered, when she suddenly realised she did not need to.

There was a blur of light, streaking towards the Brakiri ship. Before her eyes it exploded in a brilliant burst of flame, the hull torn apart, the engines bursting into flames, the entire ship consumed in the space of a few seconds.

Lethke cried out and turned away, reeling.

'What was that?' Delenn asked, unable to comprehend what she had just seen.

'From the planet,' said G'Dok. 'From the…. Machine.'

Delenn trembled and fell back against the wall.

* * *

From Selini, the soldiers moved. North, across the sea, on a mission of mercy and salvation, to the aid of their people on the mainland.

Sphodria, a port city. A vibrant place of trade, a cosmopolitan town where few looked out of place. Records had once put the alien population of Sphodria at thirty-nine percent, more than twice that of any other city save the capital. None of them was here now, everyone who could having left before things got this bad.

The soldiers arrived from Selini by airship, flyer and boat, moving through the city, establishing order and peace wherever they went. Had they been a few hours earlier they might have had more effect, but they were still the only hand reaching out to the city in this dark hour.

They found the Shadow Criers, lunatics crying of the coming Darkness. Those they found, they killed. Some surrendered after the first shot, pitifully begging for mercy on bended knees. Others stood staring at the soldiers, began to laugh, and lit the torch to burn their physical shells. Those who could be taken alive were imprisoned swiftly. Trials could wait.

The hospitals were secured and the surviving staff rescued. Medical staff from Selini were rushed in quickly and tried to deal with the wounded and dying as best they could. The numbers needing help were overwhelming.

Two hours after entering the city Lord-General Marrago stood in the Governor's house, looking at the mess of flesh and bone that had once been the Governor's wife, children and servants. The body of the Governor himself had been outside the house.

The Darkness is coming.

The words had been written countless times on the walls, on the floor, the furniture. Marrago felt those words, and shivered.

Then, the city in reasonable peace and order, Marrago handed it over to the captain of the Selini Governor's Guard, and took half of the occupying soldiers north-west, making for the heartland, and Gallia. That city needed their help as well.

The entire planet needed their help.

* * *

Lyta Alexander screamed as the golden light engulfed her. The cries of the Brakiri and human and Drazi and Narn dying echoed in her mind, but rising above them all were the sonorous tones of the Vorlon, reminding her of the necessity of her role, and the need to protect this place.

Her will stopped the Marten head on, paralysing the vessel. Captain Walker Smith shouted furiously at his technicians and engineers, but they could do nothing. The only beings on the ship with the knowledge to correct the block were paralysed themselves, the instructions of their Keepers shut out by Lyta's telepathic pulse.

The Parmenion swept down on the Marten and with swift, measured shots, blasted away both broadside cannon, front and aft weaponry and as much of the jump engines as it could. Then, leaving the beautiful, terrifying ship dead in space, it moved on.

On a smaller scale the Starfuries clashed, human against human, perhaps friend against friend. Flight- lieutenant Neeoma Connally guided the Starfury squadrons from the Parmenion against those of the Corinthian and Morningstar. Thankfully those from the Babylon were largely engaged in skirmishing with those from the station. She did not