<You would have taken your first step towards becoming as we are.
<We offer you this as equals. We do not seek to rule you, or to dominate you. We do not desire slaves. All we desire is for you to be as we are.
<Eternal, and unchanging.
<What do you say, Shadowkiller?>
General John Sheridan looked up at the Vorlon, past the patterns swirling and writhing on its bone–white suit, past the fluttering of distant wings, into the pale glow of its eye stalk.
"What do I say?" he asked.
He paused.
"I say....
"Cut the crap."
You will obey us
He was heavy, heavier than any living being should ever be no matter how large or muscular, and Kulomani was neither. He was weighed down with the burden of having seen death.
Fortunately for him, Delenn possessed the strength of one who has also seen death and does not fear it. She could not carry him, but she could drag him. His left arm rested across her shoulders and his right arm pushed against the walls, providing just enough pressure to keep his battered legs sliding across the floor.
He had said very little since they had left the charnel room, although every step had torn new cries of pain from him. For her part Delenn was content with the absence of words. She did not want to speak. She wanted to think.
Every building is created one stone at a time, one brick on top of another. So had it been with the original Alliance, and so it would be with the new Alliance. Currently there were Delenn and Kulomani, but G'Kar had survived, so there would be a third. That would have to be a start.
The journey to G'Kar's quarters was long, but mostly uneventful. There was no one in the corridors. A few security guards had been posted at the transport tubes to enforce the curfew she had not ordered. They backed aside wordlessly at the look in her eyes.
She could hear irregular, echoing clangs - the sound of a battle outside, debris hitting the hull. She did not know who was fighting, and it did not matter. Her concern was here.
The door to the Narn Ambassador's quarters was locked, as she had expected. She pressed the chime, and was not terribly surprised to find that it didn't work. Finally she resorted to knocking.
There was no reply.
She knocked again.
Still no reply.
"Someone is there," she whispered to herself. She could hear movement. Narns were seldom stealthy, with a few notable and terrifying exceptions. "G'Kar!" The sound of movement grew louder, and there seemed to be a scuffle.
"In nominus Primus," rasped Kulomani, struggling to lift his head. "Es su dest." His head slumped again, as if the effort of those six words had exhausted him.
The door opened and Na'Toth stood framed in the entrance.
"In nominus Primus, es su dest," she repeated. Kulomani nodded weakly, and she stepped aside.
Delenn led him in, mentally translating the words. They made some sort of sense to her. In the name of.... something, so is.... what is come. The future. In the name of something, so is the future.
Several things happened at once. Na'Toth closed the door, she laid Kulomani down on a stone table, she saw G'Kar slumped against a wall, a cut on his face and a Narn girl clutching at his side, and she realised what the word meant.
"Primarch," she whispered. "Primarch!"
"No," Na'Toth said acidly. "Not me, but someone I work for." She looked at Kulomani. "Someone we work for."
G'Kar moved forward. "Kulomani! I thought you were dead, but.... Sinoval!" He looked at Na'Toth. "Both of you. He is the one who introduced you...." He paused, and looked up at Delenn. "This has been a very confusing day," he said finally, with an air of exhaustion.
Delenn smiled sadly and sweetly, and stepped forward, her arms open. G'Kar was strong and warm and she held him tightly.
Their embrace lasted for a few moments and then she pulled back, her smile fading. Gently she reached up and touched the long scar across his eye. "A most confusing day, indeed."
He nodded. "Kulomani, how is...."
"He will live," Na'Toth said, from where she was standing beside him. "Or he will die. Most of us do in the end, but I doubt he will die today."
"I thought you were dead," G'Kar said. "I would never have...."
"So did I, Ha'Cormar'ah," the Brakiri said.
"Any others? If you survived, then...." Delenn shook her head, and G'Kar bowed his. "Then what now?" he asked.
"We survive," Delenn said firmly. "And we rebuild. We have survived, and we still care about the ideals of the Alliance. We must salvage what and whom we can, and rebuild."
G'Kar looked terribly sad. "I do not think that will be possible."
"But the four of us...."
"Peace is a delusion," Na'Toth said. "You do not seek to negotiate with your enemies. You destroy them."
"Sinoval," she whispered, comprehension dawning. G'Kar had said as much, but she had hardly heard. Only now did the words and the meaning sink in. "Both of you."
"Both.... of us," Kulomani said.
"And others," Na'Toth added.
Delenn looked helplessly at G'Kar, then staggered back against the wall, sinking helplessly to the floor, clutching her knees tight against her body. She wanted to think of something to do, but she was suddenly so tired.
What had Kulomani said? She was empty.
That was not true. She had her purpose. All she lacked was the next step.
She was suddenly aware of a presence next to her. Looking up, she saw the little Narn girl. She had been aware that G'Kar had returned with a child, but she had not enquired further.
"Is something wrong?" the girl asked solicitously.
"Yes," she said. "A great many things. I am sorry, little one. I have not told you my name. I am Delenn."
"My name's L'Neer," said the child.
Delenn's resolve crumbled at the sound of the name. She looked up at G'Kar, who looked away rather than admit the truth she had now recognised.
Everywhere she looked, everyone she knew....
They were all dead.
She opened her arms and L'Neer came to her. She held the girl tight and wished she could cry, but, like G'Kar, she had no tears left.
You will obey us
"Do I look like a tactician?"
Susan could see everything from the pinnacle. At times like this she could understand Sinoval's eternal sense of superiority. Standing here, seemingly on top of the world, she could see them all. The ships seemed so close she almost felt she could reach out and touch them.
No wonder Sinoval acted as if he were a God. Standing here, he practically was.
The battle was going better than she had cause to expect, but that was still not particularly good. The Vorlons were too many, and too powerful. Not to mention the defences of the station itself. The fleet was disorganised, fighting in small units rather than one cohesive whole.
Still, she had to admit that those small units were fighting well, especially the Drazi. They were completely heedless of any sort of tactics or fear and were impossibly relentless. She had seen at least two damaged Sunhawks deliberately throw themselves into a Vorlon ship.
The Tak'cha were swarming their enemy, using very impressive hit–and–run tactics. Guerrilla warfare, almost. Someone had been training them.
The Brotherhood were chaotic and random, but that very randomness allowed them some leeway. Marrago had identified key targets, and the Brotherhood were taking them out. Most of the defence grid had already been shut down.
And the Soul Hunters and Cathedral.... they were fighting as one unit, directed by one guiding mind.
Susan would be the first to admit she was no tactician, but when her army had two expert generals and the combined knowledge of millennia guiding it, she did not have to be.