Kats sat cross–legged on the floor, staring at the simple necklace she held in her hands. An unfinished, not particularly beautiful creation of a mediocre craftsman.
"Is it so wrong to want a better world? I know you, and I know people like Takier and Tirivail....
"And Sinoval.
"I do not hate any of you. I have come to understand you, at least a little, but I wish there was another way."
She was cold. Everything around and outside her was cold. She was no psychic, no prophet, but anyone could sense that something was very wrong here. Since her meeting with Delenn she had tried to contact the Grey Council to try again to reason with them, only to learn that all external communications were shut down. She could not even contact her ship, and no shuttles were permitted to leave Babylon 5.
None of the Ambassadors she had tried to contact were in. Not one. G'Kar had arrived, but no one seemed to know where he was. Lethke, Durano, G'Kael and Taan Churok were all unavailable. Commander Kulomani was indisposed.
Even Delenn had disappeared.
The Security forces seemed much more prevalent outside. The merchants had closed their stalls. There were more Dark Stars than usual.
Kats was not afraid. She did not think she was capable of feeling fear any longer. She had an uncomfortable feeling of helplessness, but it would pass. She had faith.
"I will be with you soon," she whispered. "Just keep waiting for me.... just a little longer."
There was a ritual some of the warriors had used in the days before Valen. Every day they awoke they prepared to die, and so when they prayed to their ancestors at dawn, they promised to join them soon.
There was just one person waiting for Kats, but she knew he would wait as long as necessary.
Kats....
She started, and looked around. The voice had been very faint. Nothing more than a whisper....
.... or an echo....
.... or a heartbeat.
Kats.
A voice from so far away.
Stay safe. Hide and stay safe.... Can you hear me?
"There is nothing for me to fear," she said. "But thank you, beloved."
Kats.... No.... my.... lady....
The voice faded, the sound of her name dying away into oblivion.
She kissed the necklace, surprised to find her tears wet on her face. "Thank you, beloved," she said. "Just wait for me a little longer."
"Talking to yourself?" barked a sudden, angry voice.
"Just to the dead, Tirivail," Kats said, rising slowly, re–fastening the necklace around her neck. Her friend was arming herself, taking her denn'bok from the case where Kats had insisted she keep it. It was not a good time for those not in the Rangers or Security to be wandering around the station armed. "Did you find anything?"
"A great deal," came the reply. "Everyone you asked me to find seems to be at some private meeting. No one's seen Delenn in hours. The Starkiller neither."
"What is it?" There was an urgency in Tirivail's actions, anger in her voice. "Tirivail?"
"Nothing." The warrior extended the denn'bok, testing the balance, stretching her muscles.
"Tirivail!"
Her friend turned to look at her, and Kats saw fury in her dark eyes.
"I heard that someone else is here. A human."
A cold chill settled on Kats' body.
"Tall, pale skin. Archaic clothing. A tall black hat."
"A staff," Kats whispered.
Tirivail nodded.
"Sebastian," she said again.
"The same. The head of the Vorlon Inquisition." Tirivail snapped the denn'bok closed and fixed it to her belt. "I am going to find him."
"No."
"Do not try to...."
"No!" Tirivail took a slow step back. Kats continued without a pause. "You are a warrior sworn in service to the Grey Council. I am Satai sworn and oath–bound. I have stood in the circle and the column. I have stood between the candle and the star.
"You owe me service and obeisance."
Tirivail's dark eyes flashed. "He loved you," she whispered. "That is why I serve you."
"Then that will have to be enough. Where is Sebastian? You will take me to him."
"No."
"You will take me to him. I am not afraid."
Tirivail moved angrily to the door, then looked back, waiting for Kats to follow.
"I am," she said harshly.
will
"I am not afraid," G'Kar said, with soft, despairing finality.
"I am not afraid to die. I have done many things of which I could feel ashamed, but I have always believed that my actions would lead to a better world. I have striven for so long for peace.
"I have served you as well as I was able. I will admit to having made mistakes. I am not perfect, and the more I learn, the more I realise just how truly imperfect I am, but I have tried.
"I have tried to build and to create and to make the world better.
"I formed the Rangers to fight the Shadow that G'Quan had prophesied would return. I led them, and I sent many of them to their deaths. I believed then that it was a just and righteous cause, and I still do.
"I let one of you inhabit me, and I do not regret that.
"I have seen so many things, some terrible and some wonderful. I have seen the wonder in a young child's eyes as she learns she is to live, and I have seen the terror in a man's eyes as he knows he is to die.
"I am old, and I am tired, and I am no traitor.
"Kill me if you wish."
The Vorlon remained there, drifting lazily and majestically in the air above him. The tip of the tentacle reached down to within a fraction of an inch of his good eye. Another slid around his back.
He heard its voice, the voice of the authority, of the magistrate, of the judgment, of the executioner.
<You have always served us well. You are no traitor.>
The light seemed to recede, rushing backwards into the encounter suit in one swift, smooth motion. The suit closed and the headpiece turned, the eye stalk glowing brightly.
<You have served us well,> it said again. <You may be permitted to live. Speak of what you have seen here. Speak of what happens to those who betray us.>
"I will," G'Kar said, hollowly. "Believe me in that. I will."
The Vorlon turned and left, leaving the smoking charnel house where five powerful and influential people had just discovered the true nature of power.
G'Kar waited until he could be sure the Vorlon was gone, and then he began to run.
obey
The anger he felt was so great as to overwhelm all rational thought. He had passed beyond grief and loss and sorrow, and all General John Sheridan felt now was a fury that could destroy stars themselves.
He found David in his office, frantically trying to use the commpanel.
David looked up as he entered. "Where have you been?" he asked. "The internal sensors are going crazy. Someone's been throwing around colossal amounts of energy in Blue Sector. No one can find Kulomani, or G'Kar, or any of the Ambassadors. The jump gate is closed. Delenn's just vanished off...."
"Delenn doesn't matter," he said sharply, the tiniest manifestation of the rage within him.
"What? John, what...?" He watched as David's eyes narrowed, darkening. "Oh," he said simply. "I see. Was this all just a joke then? Did you come all that way and drag me back here just to go through all this again?"
"Everything's a joke. If you haven't worked that out yet, you should just get back to building mud huts on Minbar."
"God's sake.... look at the mess you've made. No, we've all made it, but I've had enough of it." David walked towards the door, brushing past him angrily, pushing him aside. At the door he turned back. "Everything's going to hell in a handbasket, as a former friend of mine would say. It's a pity he isn't here. At least he'd be trying to fix this."