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.
'Drazi will not pay these sums,' he said, drawing his speech to a conclusion. 'Drazi will retain control of Drazi fleet. Drazi fleet will go where they wish. Drazi merchants will go where they wish.
'Drazi will not permit Alliance soldiers on Drazi worlds. We fought the Shadows longer and harder than any others. Is an insult to say there are Shadow agents hiding on Drazi worlds. An insult, and we will not accept it!'
G'Kar sighed. He could see why the Drazi were upset about that. It was a requirement of the Alliance treaties that the Rangers and the
But, much as he disliked it, he knew why it was necessary. If the freedom of movement of the Rangers was restricted in Drazi space then other races would soon be clamouring for similar concessions, and then the Shadow agents would remain hidden, and G'Quan alone knew what they would be capable of.
'We are not insulting you in this,' Delenn said, rising to her feet. She had listened to the whole speech with an increasingly despairing expression. She knows the truth, G'Kar thought. The Drazi are lost to us, and there is nothing any of us can do about it.
'We are certainly not implying there are Shadow agents being sheltered by the Drazi people, but they could be hiding anywhere. We must have free access to find them wherever they might be.'
'You cannot come to Drazi worlds,' Juphar said defiantly.
'That is not an option,' said Sheridan, also standing. General John Sheridan, the Shadowkiller. 'We must have free access to all worlds, anywhere in the galaxy.'
'Not Drazi worlds.'
'Please,' Delenn said. 'We do not mean to insult you in any way. But we must….'
'Alliance do insult us. If Alliance continue to insult us, we will not be part of Alliance. We will not pay for Babylon Five. We will not provide ships or soldiers to die in your wars with no honour. We will not obey restrictions on where we go.
'We will not let Alliance soldiers on to our worlds.'
G'Kar glanced across the table. Na'Toth and G'Kael were listening intently. Neither looked pleased, but the Kha'Ri would learn of these events from one of them. The Kha'Ri was growing more and more concerned about the direction in which the Alliance was going.
If the Drazi left and did not return, would the Narns be far behind?
The image of the alien was crystal clear. Most of those who saw it had never seen such a creature before, but for those who did the sight would never be forgotten.
It seemed to shimmer as it walked, the shadows forming around it, becoming one with it. The instrument that had recorded its passage was specially designed for the purpose. Most recording devices would not even have detected it.
It was short, and walked with a peculiar hobbling gait. G'Kar knew that the creature was capable of astonishing speed and agility, moving its disjointed body in ways no Narn could ever emulate — or human, Minbari or Drazi for that matter.
Black rags were wound tightly around its small frame, completely covering any trace of skin or fur or whatever lay beneath them. No living being had ever seen the face of one of these things. They showed their true appearance only to the dead. Hence the only name the creatures had: the Faceless.
The streets it walked through were narrow and cramped and filled with people, mostly Drazi. The recording showed them bumping into each other, starting and swearing, but the Faceless moved among them with no more substance than a….
A shadow.
There was no doubt about where the Faceless was. Kazomi 7 had been substantially rebuilt since the Drakh invasion and the rise of the Alliance, but there were still some areas that were as they had been when the world was a Drazi colony. Everyone knew there was only one race that built cities with such cramped streets. This was Zhabar, the Drazi homeworld.
The creature did not seem to know it was being followed. G'Kar found that difficult to believe, based on what he knew of them. No, far more likely it was letting the Ranger follow it. Far more likely that it knew what was about to happen.
It slid down an alley and came to a door. The moment it reached it the door opened. For that single instant, G'Kar saw the door as a mouth grinning wide. A Drazi stood there, dressed in a simple smock. He welcomed the Faceless inside, and then the recording stopped.
G'Kar stood back and looked at the Council before him. None of them was speaking. Lethke, Delenn, Sheridan, Durano, G'Kael, Kalika, all the other Ambassadors and diplomats and aides. None of them said a word.
It fell to G'Kar to break the silence. 'That recording was found by one of my Rangers on the Drazi homeworld. It was recorded by another Ranger who disappeared some months ago, not long after the recording was made.'
'Do you know what that creature was?' Sheridan asked carefully.
G'Kar nodded. 'We do not know its true name, but G'Quan called it a Faceless. The Enemy often used them as assassins. They are all but invisible in darkened areas, they are very agile, and they can kill with their bare hands. The information in the Great Machine — ' and here he paused, thinking again of the rush of information and knowledge and power the Machine had given him, ' — the information there seemed to indicate that they were not a specific race, but an order, composed of the most skilled agents of the Enemy. They were altered in some way, before becoming the Faceless.'
Lethke went pale. 'Some of these Faceless walked our worlds during the war. Many of our people died.'
