Above them, a giant hologram of G'Kar appeared. Many of the Narns wept when they saw the image. Lennier only stared impassively. There were no illusions, no disguises. G'Kar looked weak and haunted. His right eye socket was a mass of raw flesh, and the bloodstains were only just drying on his tunic.
Still, he looked like a leader. Even as a hologram, his charisma and force of presence shone through.
"My people," the voice began. "My people, we have a great task ahead of us, and a great purpose as well. Our duty is no less than to ensure the survival of our race...."
At first she did not believe it. Delenn would not really accept what had happened until the first witnesses came to Babylon 5, burning with anger and grief and a terrible desire for revenge. It all seemed so.... horrible.
Except somehow she had known that something bad was happening.
She had been thinking about John, of course. He had seemed so awkward and unsure the last time he had seen her. He had left for Minbar to find David. Taking a holiday.
Without her.
Once she had loved him more than she had thought possible. At one time, he had filled her mind and her vision. She had dreamed of the two of them creating a new order, making the galaxy a better and newer and finer place.
Once she had known a love so great it seemed to burn her. Now their relationship had become cold and barren. He was like a block of ice in their bed. They never kissed, or touched.
It seemed that ever since she had gone to Z'ha'dum, everything that had been good between them had died. She had been afraid to touch him or love him, the memories of her child's dying heartbeat still echoing in her mind. He for his part had seemed to vacillate between treating her as if she were made of glass and not wanting to be near her.
She missed the man he had once been, just as she missed the woman she had once been. There had been a brief period, while Kazomi 7 was being rebuilt and before they had gone to Minbar, when everything had seemed new and perfect and joyful. Since then everything had become as ashes.
Maybe it would be better if things simply.... ended.
Her hand brushed her belly and she felt again the echo of a heartbeat. She could not hate anyone, that was the worst thing of all. She could not hate Welles, who had been a good man overall. She could not hate Clark, who had just been a vicious puppet. She could not hate the nameless, faceless scientists. She could not hate poor, dead Vejar, for lying to her and preventing her death.
She could not hate anyone, but she felt sometimes that John hated everyone.
The call of the comm channel stirred her from her reverie, and she blinked, looking up. "Yes?"
Kulomani's face appeared. Delenn sighed inwardly. She was still not sure what to say to the Brakiri about his handling of events at Centauri Prime. She could sense a shadow behind him, although whether he danced to its strings or acted entirely by his own will, she could not tell.
"Delenn," he said. "There is a matter.... of concern that you may wish to know."
"Yes?" she whispered, her heart pounding.
"We have been contacted by two merchant ships within the last three hours. The main jump gate into the Narn system appears to be inoperable. There are no communications with Narn itself, or with any of the satellites or stations within the system. Either all the satellites have been damaged in some way, or the entire system is being jammed."
"The Shadows?" she whispered.
"I have sent a Dark Star to investigate. They have not been able to open a jump point into the system. The captain reported back that it was as if there was some force shield blocking the exit from hyperspace."
"Have you heard anything from Commander Ta'Lon?"
"No. The last I was aware he was active within the Narn system, but he does move around a great deal. It is likely he is in a position where he must maintain radio silence."
"And G'Kar?"
"Likewise."
"Is there no communication with the entire system?"
"None at all."
Fear gripped her, but she sought to calm it. The beating in her ears grew louder and louder. "Send a squadron of Dark Stars to each jump gate adjacent to the Narn system. Keep trying to open a jump point into the system itself. Take at least one science vessel in each group. See if you can contact the Vorlon Ambassador. They know a great deal more about hyperspace and jump gates than we do. And put every Alliance base in the sector on full alert."
"All done," he said carefully. Delenn looked at him. He was holding something back. Kulomani was a very accomplished liar when he wanted to be, and she was only just beginning to realise. "I was wondering if we should try to contact General Sheridan."
"No," she said firmly.
"But...."
"No," she interrupted, just as firmly. "He is.... resting. I will contact him when I am convinced we need him."
"As you command. I will contact you when we learn something new."
The comm screen went blank and Delenn sat back, her mind racing. It was several moments before it occurred to her that she had not asked him what the Vorlon Ambassador had said.
Sinoval the Accursed, Chaos Bringer and Legacy of the Dark Masters, looked down at the Tuchanq kneeling before him and resisted the urge to shout at them.
Moreil's fanaticism had irritated him, but not excessively. Moreil would provide him with a mini-army of his own. Sinoval trusted the Z'shailyl. Devotion such as that could not be a deception. He remembered the last message the Shadows had left him, a plea for hatred and revenge. He disliked being used in that way, but he would take whatever resources he was given. As for some of Moreil's.... intentions for the future, they could wait.
No, he had a nagging feeling the Tuchanq would prove to be the more serious problem. Although in an entirely different way.
"Who is your leader?" he asked.
One of them rose. He thought it was female, although as thin as they were it was sometimes hard to tell. Her soul was a mass of conflicting colours and images. He could see the fading signs of long-standing madness, now replaced by a slowly-growing serenity.
He was thankful for the two Tuchanq within the Well of Souls. They had known a song that had undone the madness.
"This one was once called nuViel Roon, and once led, before the songlessness and the long dark fell upon us." Her voice had a remarkable rhythmic quality, a lilt and rise to the words. Each syllable seemed to be sung with its own unique voice, a cry of joy to the galaxy. "This one may still be the leader, saviour, until such time as another may be chosen."
Sinoval nodded. "You know who I am?"
"You are our saviour, our singer, our blessed restorer of what once was. What else do we need to know?"
"I am a warrior, and a leader of warriors. I am going to war with an ancient and powerful race. You may think of them as Gods. I need allies and I need an army."
"You have restored to us the Song. Command us, Saviour, and we shall obey."
And that would be useful, he thought acidly, if he needed a massed horde of cannon fodder. "There are things I must know first. Why were you allied with these reivers?"
"It was the long dark, Saviour," nuViel Roon said, after a long pause. "Some years ago, one of our number, noMir Ru, fell under the long dark. She was driven out into the wilderness. We tried to hunt her, but she had grown wise and stealthy during the war, and she hid, taking more of us with each passing day. The long dark claimed more and more of us until there was anarchy. Our skies, already filled with the smoke and ash of our war with the Narn, began to be filled with the d?bris of our war with each other. The Song died everywhere across our world. When the last of us fell to the long dark, the Song died."