Sinoval. The Primarch Nominus et Corpus. Entil'zha. Holy One of the Grey Council. Warleader of the Wind Swords clan.
An impressive list of titles. Completely unnecessary, of course. An affectation, or possibly a symptom. Sinoval was as interested in the trappings of power as he was in the power itself. Oh, of course he wanted to command great armies, to decide policy and fate, to will the stars to fade at his whim.... but the accumulation of all those titles spoke of something else. A need for a greater glory.
On the other hand, Sinoval had abandoned all of those lately, hadn't he? He kept only the name of Primarch, and that had been thrust upon him by the Soul Hunters.
We are not as different as either of us would wish, he mused, looking up at the Tak'cha ceremony going on around him.
Sonovar himself had chosen to give up the bulk of the titles he had amassed over the years. He bore only the name of Zaron'dar, a mouthful which the Tak'cha had given him. He supposed it meant something to them, unless it was just a corruption of his name.
What had he told Sinoval's pretty worker? "My name will be title enough." Had he even told her that? Maybe he'd just thought about it.
Oh well.
The Tak'cha were performing some sort of weird ceremony. Ramde Cozon had tried to explain it to him, something about favourable stellar configurations, the will of the Z'ondar and the anniversary of the Feast of Sperethiel, or some such. Sonovar recognised Sperethiel, actually. There had been a great battle fought there, where Valen and the Tak'cha had routed a fleet of the Shadows' allies. It had been one of the last major engagements the Tak'cha had fought before being banished from Valen's side.
Now that had been a truly foolish decision. What if the Tak'cha were a little.... obsessive? It just made them easier to control. Valen must have been a fool indeed. A good bureaucracy, and advisors he could trust, that had probably been the secret of his success.
Sonovar had neither advantage, but all that meant was that he would have to work harder. There was no problem so large, so insurmountable that it could not be solved with enough hard work.
He was still musing on this and watching the ceremony when he became aware of a soft hiss at his side. He turned, and started as he saw Forell there. He bit back an angry retort and accepted that he really should have got used to this by now. Forell seemed to make appearing out of nowhere a habit. How could he possibly move so damned quietly?
Still, best not to let him realise just how rattled it made him. A great leader was always careful not to let those who followed him see any sign of weakness.
"He has returned, great lord," Forell whispered in a conspiratorial tone. He was probably enjoying this, being so close to the Great Lord Sonovar. Well, let him. One as worthless as Forell was hardly worthy of any consideration.
There was no need to ask who 'he' was. "Where is he?"
"In your audience chamber, great lord."
"Did he succeed?"
"That is something he will have to tell you himself, great lord."
Sonovar instinctively raised his fist, then lowered it again. He could not let Forell see how excited he was. If 'he' had succeeded, then.... No.... No point making plans from an outcome he could not predict. "How is he?"
"Slightly injured, but not seriously. I took the liberty of asking Tirivail to look at him."
Sonovar glanced up at the ceremony, and decided it was not likely to be finished for another few hours. He had plenty of time to return to his ship and learn the results of his latest plan. He left the chamber without a word, Forell obediently tagging along behind him.
Neither of them said anything during the shuttle journey back to the ship. Sonovar did not want to speak, and Forell obviously knew better than to disturb his 'Great Lord'. Sonovar was thinking about him again. Sinoval. If this plan had worked.... if it had worked, then Sinoval's power would be broken. Completely. If....
One look at Kozorr's face, and Sonovar knew he had failed.
Biting back a curse, he glanced across at Tirivail. She had been one of the first to swear herself to his side, one of the surviving members of Kalain's Grey Council, and a fine warrior. She knew where the true future of the Minbari lay, which was more than could be said for her sister. She had also been making appreciative eyes at Kozorr for a while now. Sonovar glared at her and she left, whispering something to Kozorr as she did so. He started as if stung, and then nodded.
"I failed," Kozorr said, as soon as he and Sonovar were alone.
"Tell me," Sonovar replied.
"It was.... incredible. I had no idea. Nothing prepared me for...." He shook his head. "They call it the Well of Souls. It's the base for the entirety of Cathedral's power, just as you told me. But it's.... so much more than you said. It seems to be an entire collection of souls, all joined together. Some of them from races I've never even heard of. I wouldn't be surprised if it's older than Cathedral itself."
"You couldn't destroy it?"
Kozorr shook his head. "A million warriors couldn't have destroyed that thing. It.... summoned creatures up to fight me. Beings I've heard about only in myths and legends and rumours. No, I'm sorry, Sonovar. It can't be destroyed that way. Maybe not at all."
Sonovar swore, but then he lifted his head. Fine. A failure, but not a catastrophic one. They had valuable information now, knowledge they had not had before. And perhaps the ruse was not over with yet. "Sinoval?" he asked, trying to conceal how much hatred he felt at the speaking of that name.
"He knows. He let me go. He let me come back to you."
"Overconfident. That's always been his flaw. Much too overconfident. And...." He paused. "What about.... her? Your pretty little worker?" Kats. It had been her Sonovar had to thank for so many of his recent victories. Kozorr's love for her had made it possible to trap him and turn him against Sinoval.
"She cried when she saw me."
"Do you think she loves you as you love her?"
"I.... don't...." He sighed. "I don't know. How can she? He is there. I'm not. He is able to share her life, he can talk to her, praise her beauty and her courage.... tell her just how I've betrayed all of them." He rose to his feet, and in one swift motion extended his short, one-handed pike.
"I want to be worthy of her!" he cried, striking the pike against the wall.
"You will be. You are here, after all. You have chosen your own path, not one chosen for you by another. We have time. You will prove worthy of her.... in her eyes, and your own." In some strange way, Sonovar really did hope Kats chose Kozorr instead of Sinoval. He actually liked the little worker, which was strange. She had been so pretty as she had defied him, and her tears when she had thought Kozorr was dead....
"Stay here and rest for a while. We've lost nothing but time, and that is on our side far more than his. I'll send Tirivail back to you. Meanwhile, I think I've got to get back to that ritual something-or-other. I swear to you, sometimes it's as bad as being around the priestlings."
Kozorr chuckled, and nodded. Sonovar left.
Forell was standing outside the room, the recipient of very dark glares from Tirivail. Nobody trusted Sonovar's scarred and mutilated advisor, but Sonovar did not mind, for he did not trust him either. Still, the cripple had his uses.
"What now, great lord?"
And one of those uses was as a sounding-board.
"Now.... hmm.... Smaller scale, I think. Raids on Alliance shipping lanes. See if we can frame Sinoval for this. After all, the only Minbari warships around are his, correct? I'm not sure how long that deception can last, but it will be good for something.
"And the Tak'cha.... They can do what they can to paralyse trade to Tarolin Two. Sinoval's 'empire' is still small. With a bit of work, we might be able to stop it getting any bigger. Yes, and then...."