He could hear it somewhere, just at the back of his mind, a million screams in one voice. General Carn Mollari paced up and down the bridge of the Valerius impatiently, angrily. Something was happening, but not here. Not here, where he stood immobile, watching the equally immobile Narn ships. A balance of terror.
Something was happening. He knew it.
Hence it was no surprise when he received a communication from the homeworld, from no less than his uncle, Emperor Mollari II.
"Carn," his uncle said. "We don't have much time. Get every ship you can find. Bring them all here, to the homeworld. The.... the Shadows are attacking."
"What? But why? What can we do against the likes of them?"
"Whatever must be done. They want Centauri Prime. They want it for their own, a place of refuge. We must deny them that."
"And the Narns? Can we dare leave this frontier unguarded?"
"We have no choice, Carn. None at all. Come here. We must save the homeworld, that above all else. And.... Carn.... I am proud of you. Your father is proud of you." Then the communication ended.
Carn sat back, his mind racing, but above all he remembered one of the earliest lessons Lord–General Marrago had taught him. A great leader can always take time to think. Rushing headlong forward will only bring disaster. Time for thought, even only a moment, will bring victory.
He sat forward. "Send a hail to the leader of the Narn fleet." The order was questioned, but ultimately obeyed. Soon enough the face of Warleader Na'Tok appeared on the holoscreen. A much younger man than the recently retired Warleader G'Sten, Na'Tok was nonetheless tough in appearance, a hardened soldier and veteran.
"I have no time for threats, General," he said, slowly and purposefully, "if that is what this is about." He smiled. "Or have you decided to surrender?"
"Neither," Carn replied. "What I am about to say may well have me tried for treason, but I don't care. Centauri Prime is under attack by the Shadows. I am going back to defend it. The whole fleet is coming with me. Maybe we can win, maybe we can't, but we at least have to try.
"You can come with us if you like."
There was a pause, and Na'Tok laughed. "You expect me to believe that?"
"Why not? It was our two races who first joined forces against the Shadows. My uncle and your prophet G'Kar. I fought alongside Narn ships at the Battle of Proxima. They gave their lives that we might all triumph. I am tired of fighting this war, Na'Tok. If you choose to take advantage of our departure then the Republic is dead and gone anyway. So I give you this offer. Help us. Help us against the greater Enemy."
"Everyone knows you are allied with the Shadows. This is a deception."
"Then don't believe me. Do as you wish. Obey your Kha'Ri. Disobey them. Whatever you wish. But I am going home. General Mollari out."
He sat back and sighed. Technically that was treason, but he had to try. What use victory against the Narns if you lost to the Shadows? Who was truly the greater enemy?
He began to take the Centauri fleet home.
She was perfect. She was everything he could have imagined his Empress would be. Her eyes were filled with flame, the warrior nature of her bearing contrasting with the fragile beauty of her features. She would bear him strong sons and beautiful daughters and the line of House Kiro would sit on the Purple Throne in service to the Dark Masters for a thousand years to come.
Yes, thought Lord Kiro, Lyndisty Marrago would be a fine Empress indeed.
"Where is my father?" she demanded. Even her voice was that of an Empress. He had believed she was appropriate when she had brought him the seeds of his victory all these months ago, but now he was sure, convinced beyond all doubt. "Where is Emperor Mollari? It is treason for you to sit on the throne."
"A treason according to the laws of mortals," Kiro said, admiring her spirit and fire. "I sit here by the laws of Gods. They have made me Emperor of this Republic, just as they will make you my Empress."
She snorted, and turned away. "I came to find our Emperor," she said calmly. "Not a madman sitting in his place. I will visit your grave."
Kiro smiled wryly. "Mariel," he said, and she looked up. She would never be his Empress. She never could be, and she had accepted that now. She was his in every way that counted. She had seen the glory of the Dark Masters, and of his son rising from the crimson womb. She would help him mould Lyndisty into what was necessary. After all, why else had he kept her around all this time?
"Mariel. Fetch her back. My Empress will need to be taught so many things."
Dutifully, Mariel moved to catch the departing Lyndisty. As she placed a hand on Lyndisty's shoulder, the future Empress turned and delivered a powerful punch to Mariel's face, sending her sprawling. Kiro smiled, feeling the power of the Dark Masters flow into Mariel as she rose to her feet.
Slowly a red mist issued from Mariel's mouth, from her eyes and fingers. Lyndisty's eyes widened, but only for an instant, as she moved forward and threw another punch into Mariel's face, and then another and another. Finally Mariel slumped and fell. She did not rise, and only her racking sobs testified that she was even alive.
"Magnificent," Kiro said. "Truly magnificent. You are more than worthy to be my Empress." He rose from the throne and began to walk towards her. She took a step back and a knife was suddenly in her hand, twirling competently. There was a glint of poison on its blade.
"I am Lyndisty Marrago," she hissed. "For generations my family has protected and guarded that throne. If you believe I will be your puppet, then you are mistaken. My father is the Lord–General, and he has trained me in every form of combat there is. Take another step forward, and I will erase your treason myself."
Kiro smiled, and his eyes flashed. The power of the Dark Masters shone in his mind, and he could hear the byakheeshaggai scream its worship. Lightning crackled all over his body, a crimson haze fell across his vision. He looked at her and saw her soul, a melange of conflicting colours, of split personalities, of fiery red and tranquil white. She was his, his to comprehend, to command, to serve.
Trembling, she was actually resisting the song of the Dark Masters funnelled through his son. He stepped forward and touched her face gently. The knife fell from her fingers. He bent forward and kissed her, powerfully but tenderly. The first kiss of Emperor Kiro to his Empress.
He stepped back. "There," he said. "Now do you doubt that you are mine, my one and true Empress?"
She reached out to touch him, placing her hand on his shoulder. She then pushed her fingertips down and paralysed his nerve clusters. He screamed and fell back, sensation ebbing from his arm. Her eyes flashed and she moved forward, another knife appearing from nowhere in her hand.
"I am Lyndisty, daughter of House Marrago," she said again, power and contempt in every word. Contempt. For him! "And I will never be yours." The knife sliced through the sleeve of his tunic, and then through a button. He stumbled back. What was happening? She would be his! The Dark Masters promised it! She would be his.
"No," he whispered. "No, this is...."
There was a flash of light and Lyndisty fell twitching to the floor. The guard lowered his weapon. A swift glance told Kiro that the wound was not fatal, but he no longer cared. The Dark Masters had promised him victory here. She would be his.
"They are here," he said, desperately seeking some understanding. "They are here, so we must go to them. We must reaffirm my loyalty. Come, guards. Come, Mariel."
"No," Mariel said softly.
He turned to her, doubting for one second that he had heard that word. She was kneeling, blood splattering her face, new wounds over many, many old ones. Cradled in her arms was Lyndisty's discarded dagger.