It was a world of mysteries, of enigmatic power and lost wonders. It was a world where the Gods of old had walked and lived and thrived, and created dark technologies. The forges of great Thrakandar were now silent, shut down forever. The grim temples where the Priests of the Fallen Midnight had raised their souls in prayer now heard nothing but the wind. The sanctum of the Drakh magi was abandoned and forgotten.
The Gods of Darkness and Terror had left Z'ha'dum. They had been defeated, cast down and exiled. It fell to the Gods of Light and Beauty to claim the dead world and see that its terrors never again threatened the galaxy.
And in the most ancient and holy site on Z'ha'dum, where the Pale and Silent King alone had stepped, the Eldest being in the galaxy stood and watched.
He watched as the Vorlons purged the world of all that the Shadows had left behind. He watched as they desecrated the Temples of Midnight, as they shattered the forges at Thrakandar, as they tunnelled deep into the bowels of the world, looking always for secrets hidden and forgotten.
The Shadows had taken much with them as they left, but not even a race as old and powerful as they could remember everything. In the countless millennia of their history, they had created innumerable abominations and terrors and monstrosities. And they had forgotten many of them.
But He remembered. Lorien remembered.
One by one, slowly, the Vorlons found these forgotten instruments of destruction and devastation. One by one, they took them away to safety.
And one by one, slowly, they spread out into the galaxy, seeking what the Shadows had left behind.
On their departure, the Shadows had offered their vassal races the chance to come with them, to experience the universe beyond the Rim. Many had accepted and gone, but a few had stayed, and it was these that the Vorlons hunted.
The Zarqheba had returned to their asteroid homes, their great wings carrying them through space as they had many millennia ago. Lorien was one of the few who remembered their cities of gold and splendour, before they had collapsed in fire and fury. The Zarqheba would never again know their former intelligence and beauty. Now they were little better than animals, but now at least they were free. The Vorlons were hunting them, but they knew how to hide. Lorien supposed they would escape.
The Zener had scattered. Some had gone with their Dark Masters, others had stayed. They the Vorlons wanted most of all, for it was they who had crafted the weapons of biotechnology and chemical warfare that the Shadows had used so effectively. Some had been caught, some had been killed, but some remained free.
The Streib had retreated. Never truly a vassal race of the Shadows, they had simply taken advantage of the chaos they brought. That was enough for them to be hunted and pursued. Their ships no longer raided, no longer hunted. They settled in their homeworld and hid.
The byakheeshaggai were all dead, the last one slain by the Vorlons on Centauri Prime. None remained, here or beyond the Rim.
There were others of course. The Z'shailyl, the Moradiin, the Faceless. Lorien watched them all, just as He watched everything else that transpired in the galaxy. He watched the building of Babylon 5. He watched the Drazi fall and be conquered. He watched peace and order come at last to the Tuchanq. He watched the others, the last survivors of races almost as old as His, move at last, returning to attend to the fate of the galaxy after so long in silence. He watched Sebastian awake and walk forth on his mission.
And when, at the end of the Earth year 2262, Ulkesh came to see Him in His hidden sanctum, as he had more than once in the last year, He asked the same question He had on every other occasion.
'Tell me. Have you found Cathedral yet?'
The answer was always the same.
It was so quiet. So new. Crafted fully formed from hopes and aspirations and dreams. Every bit of metal, every bolt, every door, every room, every piece of equipment.
It was all so new, and yet it seemed haunted.
As G'Kar walked slowly through the corridors of Babylon 5 he could not shake that feeling. He had not used to believe in ghosts. But that was before. Before he had met Londo. Before the Machine. Before the War.
Now he thought he believed in almost everything.
It was finished. Babylon 5 was finished, almost ready to go on line. Oh, there would still be improvements and modifications to be made, little bits of tweaking here and there, but for the most part it was done.
And was it worth it? Was it worth the expense? And not just in financial terms. The Drazi had rebelled partly because of this station. He had heard reports from Centauri Prime of famine and drought exacerbated by the crippling payments made to the Alliance. There were whispers of protest from Narn.
And was it worth it? What price peace?
He could not find an answer.
He walked into the room that had been designated as the conference hall, the place where the representatives would meet, where the decisions would be taken, where the fate of worlds would turn.
The Vorlon turned to look at him. Its encounter suit was pure white, unmarked by any other colour, unsullied and clean. G'Kar understood that in some cultures white meant purity and virtue.
All he could see in that gleaming whiteness were bones. Bones of the dead.
A light twinkled in the Vorlon's eye stalk and G'Kar took a slow step back. For one moment it had looked as if a skull was smiling at him.
He placed his fists together on his chest and bowed his head slightly. As far as he knew he was one of the first people on Babylon 5 apart from the construction crews, given permission to survey the new base for the Alliance. The others would come later, either being too busy to inspect it now, or not wishing to do so. G'Kar alone wanted to see the finished station as soon as possible.
He was not terribly surprised to see that the new Vorlon Ambassador had got here before him.
There was a rush of air, and a sound like dry leaves rustling across a marble tomb. <Welcome to Babylon Five,> it said.
G'Kar said nothing in reply. There was nothing to say.
LAKER, A. (2293) A Shining Beacon in Space. Chapter 14 of
Clements, D. G. Goldingay & M. G. Kerr.
Gareth D. Williams
Part 1. Learning How to Live
With Babylon 5 complete at last, the Alliance is ready to enter a new age, a golden time of peace and prosperity. But in a galaxy that has known only war, the concept of peace is hard to grasp. The new age brings many challenges, not learning how to fight, but learning how to live. Some seek that understanding through work
