Morden chuckled. "Well, IPX was not quite that bad. Anyway, when the war with the Minbari came we suffered badly, but we recovered during the aftermath and absorbed certain other smaller companies. All rather boring business history stuff.
"About seven or eight years ago, I was part of a Government sponsored team, looking for alien technology on certain worlds in uninhabited areas of space. We needed anything that could help us oppose the Minbari. One of the worlds we visited was on the border of Narn space, in a fairly backward area. It was called Sigma Nine-five-seven.
"Something.... lived there. Aliens.... ancient ones. They contacted us, in a spirit of.... interest, I suppose. They explained to us what they were, and what they wanted, and we did the same. In exchange for certain.... services.... they provided clandestine help for my people, and my company.
"You do know of the Vorlons, don't you, Emperor Mollari?"
"The Vorlons? They are your...! Great Maker. Yes, I know of the Vorlons. But.... this raises a few more questions than it answers, Mr. Morden. The Vorlons are.... from what I was told, anyway.... enemies of the race called the Shadows, correct?"
He nodded.
"Then why did they do nothing when your Government made an alliance with the Shadows?"
"They didn't exactly do nothing. Unfortunately a different faction from the Vorlons who greeted me were in power for a long time. They were more.... peaceful, and did not want to risk a direct confrontation with the Shadows — except for the engagement at Proxima a few years ago."
"I was there," Londo muttered.
"Well, this.... peaceful faction recently lost power, and my associates among the Vorlon hierarchy took over. They are more inclined to direct action. In time.... they will try to remove the Shadow influence from my Government.... but they wish to help as many other races as they can first. Including yours."
"I see.... Other races? What about the Alliance?"
"A Vorlon Ambassador is being posted there as we speak. Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar has had a long and beneficial relationship with my associates, so he should welcome their assistance."
"And so would we. But.... here is the question, Mr. Morden. The sixty-four thousand ducat question. What will this help cost?"
"We wish only to benefit the younger races in the galaxy. But.... there is a small price. They would like to post a permanent Ambassador here. They may also require.... at some point in the future.... assistance from your Government, should they elect to go to war with the Shadows. They will definitely not ask anything more than you can pay. Supplies, perhaps. A garrison for their vessels here. Support ships, maybe.
"But they can offer you a great deal. Help in ending this war with the Narns.... and military assistance should it be needed. They will also be able to rid you of these.... problems.... with the Shadow Criers. They have as much interest in that as you do."
"Hmm...." Londo looked deep into his glass, swilling the remains of his brivare around. It had gone cold by now. "You make an interesting argument, Mr. Morden. I assume you have full authority to conduct a formal treaty?"
"Oh yes. Completely."
"An alliance with the Vorlons.... It is a more than tempting offer, Mr. Morden, but I must discuss matters with my Government. I assure you that only they will know of your offer. In the meantime, you may feel free to treat this palace as your home."
"I would be honoured, Emperor. I leave you to your deliberations, then. Good night."
"Good night, Mr. Morden."
Londo was deep in thought as Morden left.
There is a finite level of rage that most people can manage: a built-in limit to just how angry they can get. For some, this level is higher than for others.
Delenn very rarely rose to the upper levels of her anger, certainly not in the way that people such as Sinoval did. In fact, she could recall having been this angry only once before, and she was well aware of the terrible mistake she had made then. This time was different though.
There would be no mistake this time.
She sat in silence, looking around at the Council members. Each of them was as determined and as convinced as she herself. Taan Churok was on the verge of open violence, but then he and Vizhak had been opposed even to the idea of negotiations almost from the start. What they had learned today had only heightened their anger. 'I told you so's' would be flying around soon enough, but in Drazi fashion, which was much more dangerous. The Narn Ambassador G'Kael looked a little uncomfortable. He was after all a newcomer here. Vizhak had argued for leaving him out of this meeting, but Lethke and Delenn had overruled him. If the Narns were to be fully involved in this, they had to understand.
And as for Lethke.... he was calm, but inwardly he was just as angry as the rest. More so, even. Brakiri were a trading people, and always had been. They took great offence at being approached in anything less than good faith.
And there was one other. He was silent, still, unmoving.
The door opened and an aide appeared, a Brakiri, formerly a member of the Trading House here. "Ambassador Sheridan is here," he announced.
"Excellent. Send him in," Delenn said, keeping her tone neutral.
The Shadow Ambassador entered, looking unruffled and perfectly at home despite the abruptness and timing of his summons.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, entering. "It is an honour to meet with you again. May I infer from my summons to this meeting that you have reached a decision?"
"You may infer whatever you wish, Ambassador," Delenn said coldly, rising from her seat. "But you are right. We have reached a decision.... and that is this.
"There can be no peace with the Shadow. None at all."
If they were expecting a reaction, they did not get it. "Ah. A grave disappointment."
"Is that what you call it, Ambassador? You should consider yourself fortunate that you are merely.... disappointed.... and not receiving a much worse fate."
"I do not appreciate being threatened."
"I am not threatening you! I am making a promise. A complete.... and total promise. There will be no peace with the Shadow. Not now.... and not ever."
"May I know the reasons for.... this.... hostility?"
"Indeed you may. I believe you know Merchant-Captain Kullenbrok?"
"The name rings a bell." He sat still for a moment, seemingly lost in memory. Delenn realised that he knew full well of whom they were speaking. "Ah yes. One of the individuals we exchanged for Miss Ivanova and Captain Smith."
"Indeed. He was a prominent member of a Brakiri Merchant House on this world before the Drakh invasion...."
"As I have said.... my associates did not sanction that attack in any way, shape or form. The assault on this world.... was carried out by an independent faction of the Drakh warrior caste. My associates.... both human and Shadow, merely managed to use their contacts with the Drakh to release the prisoners."
"Yes.... you have said as much. I do not believe you, Ambassador. The Drakh attacked this world on the direct orders of your.... associates. But that is not the issue here. Merchant-Captain Kullenbrok killed himself last night in his room. As was inevitable.... we investigated his death, and our ally Vejar here.... discovered something. Do you know what?"
He shook his head, smiling.
"Vejar."
The technomage stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the room. He was carrying a small, transparent box, constructed from some sort of crystal. Inside the box was a small grey mass. It stirred, and something opened, revealing a malevolent, brightly-shining eye. It burst into a flurry of motion, extending limbs from its body and thrashing against the side of its prison.
"It seems to recognise you, Ambassador," Delenn said, as Vejar laid the box down on the Council table. Vizhak surreptitiously slid as far away from it as possible. "You know what it is?"