"Well, Chet," he said. "First you...."
.... was a key.
Her eyes opened.
The creature hissed and moved back, but Talia was already awake.
"Now, I'm annoyed," she said.
The plan was a strange combination of genius and insanity, as all the best plans are. Marrago was more than a little discomfited by it, not least because it meant the complete derailing of all his carefully laid schemes. He had come to dislike strategy lately, but he had not lost his grasp of it. As things currently stood, he would be leader of the Brotherhood Without Banners in less than a year. Within two, he would have an army for Sinoval.
But time and fate and the machinations of others had a habit of interfering with even the best laid plans of Centauri and men.
One battle, one throw of the dice, one opportunity.
Marrago breathed out slowly. He had never liked gambling, although he recognised its occasional necessity in war. He had always left real gambling to Londo.
He was still shaking and he could still feel the impact on his fist, even up to his shoulder. He could still see the look in her eyes.
Sometimes he tried to remember the last time he had felt any self-respect at all. Where had it all gone? There had been a time he had been proud of himself, proud of what he represented. He had done.... things he was not proud of, but they could all be rationalised. Dealing with the Shadows, blackmailing Lord Valo into a politically convenient suicide, lying to Londo and Durano.
But now, now there was nothing, an emptiness at his core. He was not even sure why he was here, what he was doing. He had failed to protect Lyndisty, his dealings had led to his people becoming slaves to the Alliance, and now he had hit a woman. No, a girl.
"You made a poor choice, my friend," he said, not sure if Sinoval would be watching or not. "You should have chosen a much younger man, a much better man."
But who else was there?
He thought over Sinoval's plan again, considering himself very fortunate he did not have to think the way the Minbari did. It was risky and dangerous and quite probably suicidal, but it could work. And at this stage of the game, both of them had to take risks.
He looked up at the commscreen as the image appeared there. About time. There was a need for security systems and screening processes, but sometimes he thought his associate took things a little too far.
No, there was no such thing as too much security.
"Greetings, friend," said the twisted, alien voice. Even over a distance of countless light years n'Grath still managed to convey that aura of sheer otherness, along with a very simple malevolence. "Are you in need of more work? There is business to be done if you wish it."
"No, thank you," Marrago replied. "I've got some information for you, and I want some information in turn."
"Yes? This is of interest to this one. Let us hear your information and it shall be seen what the worth of it might be."
"No," Marrago replied calmly. He knew the secret of a good bargain. Always act as if you were on top. "You first. I want to find out everything you know about someone. And I mean everything."
"Who might this person be?"
"Her name is Mi'Ra. She is a Narn. I'm sending a picture to you now."
"Ah, yes. This can be done. Time it will take, but there is no one with secrets from this one. What can you offer in turn?"
"I know where the Brotherhood Without Banners is going to attack next. And this will be no simple raid. We are talking about a full scale attack. A great deal of disruption, chaos, anarchy. There could be a fair bit of money to be made for someone with an eye for that sort of thing."
"This is of interest, yes. Where?"
"When you have the information I need. Not before."
"This one will wait. You will be contacted when all is known. We will speak later, friend."
"Later."
It took Marrago several minutes to stop shaking after the communication finished. Then he needed several cups of jhala to wash the foul taste out of his mouth.
"Ugly-looking planet," Susan Ivanova muttered. "And is it just me, or is that the same small group of ships passing overhead all the time?"
"It's not just you," Sinoval replied, not looking up from his meditation. "The Centauri do not have much of a fleet left, so they seem to have learned how to make it look as though they have far more ships than they really do."
"Weren't there supposed to be Alliance ships here as well? I thought that was what you said was happening — Alliance ships guarding Centauri worlds."
Sinoval rose, sighing, and walked around the circumference of the pinnacle. Sometimes it seemed so small and yet sometimes it was massive. Not for the first time he felt he was standing on the top of the galaxy, looking down at world upon world laid out for his inspection.
Except he had to share this vision with Susan, as always, and this was just one world. Centauri Prime to be exact.
"Yes," he said. "There were meant to be. The Alliance have dispatched some of their fleets to guard and protect Centauri worlds, not to mention maintaining order on the surface." He paused, looking around at the spectacle before him. "No, none here. It would not surprise me if the Narn captains of those ships have quarrelled with some functionary or another and simply stayed away, aggrieved at their help being so rudely rebuffed. That would make what is going to happen all the more truly tragic, of course. A sign of what will happen unless the Centauri accept their place in the new galactic order."
He paused, still looking. "When I was much younger, I saw a performer in the streets of Yedor. A former member of the warrior caste, exiled for some crime or another. He survived by performing tricks for passing crowds, for travellers and so on.
"He was balancing small spinning balls on his denn'bok, throwing them up into the air and catching them on the edge, always keeping them spinning and dancing. He must have been holding.... almost fifteen in the air at one point, and he never let one drop."
Susan looked at him. It was not usual for him to be talking so much, but after his collapse following his tales of Valen, he had actively sought her company more. He would speak to her more often, reveal more of his plans, his intentions, his dreams, even trivial little stories like this.
She was not quite sure what this meant. Either she was succeeding in her purpose and he was actually seeing people as people, not just chess pieces. He could be opening up to her, letting himself be human.... or Minbari, or whatever. Alive. Letting himself be alive.
Or there was another, darker possibility.
He was sharing his plans so that if anything happened to him someone would be able to continue when he was gone.
"I feel like that warrior, balancing all those globes in the air, except these are not just spinning balls, but people, and if any fall then we lose more than just a toy.
"Vejar has failed, and it cost him his life. Galen is lost now, trapped by the Vorlons, and there is no way to get him out. Marrago is on his own and I have to advance his careful plans myself, risking everything he has worked for these past two years.
"And Sheridan....
"Sheridan....
"Without the telepath, I have to do this myself. It would be so much easier with her, but I fear there is little choice, and I certainly do not have the time to do this slowly. I have to rush, and what if I mis-step or make a wrong move? What if he sees me or rejects me?
"Ah, Valen, curse you. Destined for greatness, indeed!"
He made for the steps leading downwards. "I have to commune with Sheridan again. I am.... making breakthroughs with him, slowly but surely, but I will have to move more quickly. Someone has to lead if anything happens to me, and without the Vorlon touch there would be no one better than him.