And now, to his considerable surprise, someone else of importance had turned up, someone he had definitely not been expecting.
"Councillor Na'Toth," he exclaimed, seeing her sitting in the room he had been using as an audience chamber. The furnishings were hardly perfect, but this had been a Drazi colony after all. "I am honoured."
"I wish I were," she said, with trademark bluntness. G'Kael had spent much of his time in the Kha'Ri's lower circles observing those in the upper ones, and so he was fully acquainted with what some might call Na'Toth's lack of tact. On the other hand, he could tell from her tone that she was less than pleased.
"I am to take it, I suppose, that the Kha'Ri has not decided to recognise the full importance of my position here?" he speculated, taking a wild guess. He knew well enough how politics in the Kha'Ri worked, after all.
"If they had, I would not be here," she replied acidly. "No, I fear there has been another round of ritual blood-letting in our Government, and I am the latest victim. I have been.... posted here. As your attach?."
"My.... attach?? But...."
"I know. A fairly severe demotion. My father would be revolving in the afterlife in disgust if he could see me now. It was my fault, really. I was a little too preoccupied with trying to avert a war to watch my back. That.... arrogant pouchling H'Klo managed to stage a very effective and surprisingly bloodless coup."
"I had heard nothing of this."
"Of course not. The Kha'Ri has not lasted this long by throwing all its little games open to the public. Councillor H'Klo and his supporters were very upset at my constant efforts to delay the war, as was Warleader G'Sten. And so they.... trumped up certain charges relating to the unfortunate death of Councillor Du'Rog some years ago."
"They falsified murder charges against you?"
"I would not say falsified.... not exactly. Well, dwelling on the past is neither here nor there. Is Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar here? I need to speak with him."
"No. He has.... departed on some personal mission. I do not know where. His lieutenant Ta'Lon is here."
"Ah, yes. Ta'Lon will have to do. G'Kar has chosen a most unsafe time to go galloping around the galaxy though. Our fleets will be at Centauri Prime in a matter of weeks, and when that happens, well.... it would not be a wise idea for one such as G'Kar to be somewhere that is not entirely safe."
"Is anywhere entirely safe these days?"
"The grave," she replied. He was not sure if she was joking or not, and all told it was probably just as well.
Shai Alyt Kozorr had been away from his people for only a few months, but it seemed far, far longer. A great deal had happened to him. The scales over his eyes had been lifted and he could now see clearly.
He knew what he had to do.
He had found Cathedral easily enough. It was still at Tarolin 2, as were several other ships in Sinoval's fleet. Kozorr pondered the situation on the planet's surface for a while, remembering the chaos and bloodshed that had occurred there. Sonovar had ordered that, but.... it had been for a good reason.... He had not been harming the innocent, only those who had betrayed their duties to the Minbari by swearing loyalty to Sinoval. That was....
He shook his head. He didn't really know. Sonovar was right, though. He must be.
And about one thing Sonovar had been very right. The instant Kozorr set eyes on Sinoval for the first time in months, he was stricken by the realisation.
Kats would never love him. Not while he remained in Sinoval's shadow. It was ironic, but Sinoval was better than him in every way. Without Sinoval.... Kozorr could very well have been the mightiest warrior of this generation. With him, he was nothing but a footnote.
"Kozorr!" cried the Primarch, moving forward slowly. His face was filled with a surprised joy, but there was something about him that did not speak of joy. He hesitated. "I was told you were.... dead."
Kozorr sighed softly, and limped forward. "It was a.... trick on Sonovar's part. Some sort of test, maybe. He.... wanted information from me. I.... ah.... I managed to escape."
Sinoval smiled. "Someone is favouring us at last, then. Come.... you need to rest, I am sure. You do not look.... well."
"I am tired, nothing more," he replied, shrinking away from Sinoval's touch. "It has not been easy."
"I do not doubt it. Still, I am very glad you have returned to us, Kozorr. Kats will be also. She.... told me what happened. She was.... feeling very guilty."
Kozorr bowed his head. "It was the only choice to make. I would do it again if I had to. You would have done the same."
"I hope so," came the soft reply. "Come, I will find a healer for you, and then you can rest. You look as though you need it."
"No!" he snapped quickly, and Sinoval looked surprised. "No. No healers. Where.... is Kats? I would like to see her."
Sinoval chuckled softly. "And she would like to see you too, my friend. Very much. She is on the surface, helping restore the records in the temporary Government building. I will guide you there.... unless you would rather see her alone."
"I would."
He nodded. "I understand. My blessings on you both."
Kozorr looked startled, but then he nodded and turned away, not really understanding. Sinoval had called him a friend, and he certainly thought so of Sinoval, but.... He had to prove himself to Kats, and he had to purify the taint on the Minbari people. Once the Soul Hunters were gone, then he, Kats and Sinoval could unite with Sonovar and the Tak'cha and take the war to the Enemy.
There was a brief movement in front of him, and a Soul Hunter came into view. Its ancient, hateful gaze fixed upon him for a moment, and then it stepped aside. Kozorr continued, thinking dark thoughts.
The Soul Hunter went to Sinoval, and they talked briefly, in hushed tones. Kozorr did not hear what they said, but Sinoval's expression was dark indeed.
They called it the Pit. Its more official designation was Sector 301 of the Main City Dome of Proxima 3, but the title of the Pit had been coined many years ago, and it had stuck.
It was appropriate as well, for the Pit was where Proxima dumped all its refuse, all its unwanted, all its discards, its trash, its rubbish. The security forces in the sector were notoriously corrupt, and all the MegaCorps avoided it like the plague.
It was a place of broken dreams and lost souls.
It was therefore hardly the sort of place one might expect to find a celebrated war hero, a man who had appeared among the Top Ten People of 2259 in Humanity magazine, and whom a poll had voted the Seventh Sexiest Man Alive in the same year.
For former Captain Dexter Smith however, the Pit was home.
It had been a few weeks since his honourable discharge from Earthforce, and the time had passed in a sort of blur. He had declined a number of interviews with news reporters, an offer of a weekly column in Universe Today, a regular panel slot on New News and several proposals of marriage. His discharge from the military had been big news for a while, and he was slightly amused to discover the official reason given was 'health problems, resulting from injuries sustained in long-term combat situations'.
If only half the people now interested in him had had any clue as to what those 'long-term combat situations' had been like, the world might be a better place. A great many people claimed to want the truth about his experiences in the war, and he had only been able to shake his head and reply that, no, they didn't at all.
And so he had come to the Pit to disappear. That was easy. Things disappeared in the Pit with a depressing lack of effort. The news moved on; the big story at the moment being the launch of the new warship, the Saint-Germain under Captain DeClerq. The Saint-Germain was one of the new type of warship, the Warlock class, which would take Earthforce well into the new decade.