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"But my words to the Narn people can, and they will. I will return to the temples, to the cities, to the streets, and I will speak until I am listened to, or until I collapse dead. Once I was afraid of the power my words could have, the power to topple governments and change peoples. I am still afraid, but I will not stop until we are turned from this path we are on.

"Councillors, this war will end now, today. If not at my urging, then at that of the people you rule.

"The decision is yours."

* * *

The last hope of the Centauri Republic moved nearer and nearer to the homeworld. Heedless of the Narn fleet left unguarded at his back, General Carn Mollari brought the Valerius and the Centauri fleet to Centauri Prime. It was not far, the front line was much too close to the homeworld for comfort, but would be it just too far?

What choice did they have? To save the homeworld, or to avenge it?

Jump gates opened above Centauri Prime and Carn led the fleet into the heavens above his homeworld. A fleet of Shadow warships was there, waiting for him.

Unhesitating, Carn gave the order to attack.

* * *

Ah, Lords of Light, what fools these mortals were.

Morden took a step forward, and behind him the spirit of his Master flowed. The power it radiated was enough to blind these insects, these beings who believed they understood the cosmos when they knew only a tiny corner of it. Even after all he had seen and done, Morden knew he understood little.

"They are here," Kiro whispered. The would–be Emperor looked weak. His clothes were in rags, his hair limp. There were scratches and weeping wounds on his face and hands, some new, some old. The only thing about him that marked him out was the fervour in his eyes, the crimson mist that seeped from his soul. Beyond that, he might have been nothing more than a beggar or a vagabond.

"They are here," he said over and over again, repeating it like a mantra.

"Yes," Morden said softly, in flawless and unaccented High Tongue. "Your Masters are here. Go out and herald their coming. Be witness to their return."

Kiro's eyes flashed. "You mock me. You dare to mock me! The Dark Masters will...."

"They will do nothing," Morden said. He could feel his Light Master observing him, shielding him from the power of the byakheeshaggai. That was a taxing task, a draining one, but the Vorlons were more than powerful enough for what was necessary. It was just a shame there was no node of the network on Centauri Prime. Oh well, that would soon change.

"You live on delusions," Morden said, his voice firm. "You huddle to the Shadow believing it will soothe and succour when it drains the life from you. It is not too late for you to seek forgiveness, but I am not the right person for that. When an Inquisitor arrives, maybe, but for now...." Morden smiled. "For now, you will have to be content with seeing the truth."

Kiro looked directly at him, and for just an instant Morden saw himself reflected in the madman's eyes. Then the mirrors there became filled with light, a light so old and so powerful and so bright that all reflections, all insanity, all that was there.... was erased.

Kiro fell back, resting against the throne. He remained there for a few minutes and then looked around the room, his eyes those of a child who is seeing the world for the first time. He looked at Mariel's dead body, at the woman he had thought would have been his Empress, at the shadows in an empty corner, at the throne he had recently sat on, and then at Morden and the angel behind him.

Then, saying nothing, Kiro turned and limped away from the throne room.

Morden turned to look at the two guards who had succumbed to Kiro's will, but they were motionless, drooling on the floor, their minds utterly broken at last by the same thing that had broken Kiro's - the sight of a Vorlon.

A sound suddenly reached him, as if coming from a long way away. He blinked, feeling the banalities of the real world returning to him, and looked down. The woman there, Lyndisty Marrago, was moving, stirring slowly.

Morden pursed his lips, knowing what must be done. He had thought her taken by Kiro's power, but evidently that was not so. It would have been easier for all had she not been able to resist. Morden never liked getting blood on his suit.

He knelt down at her side and picked up a knife. It was sharp, clearly well–made, with a smear of poison on the blade. Lyndisty coughed and looked up at him. As he looked into her eyes he saw a resemblance to her father. Oh, Morden knew that the Lord–General was not her biological father, but there was a resemblance there nonetheless, regardless of genetics.

"I know you," she whispered. "I am Lyndisty, of House Marrago. My father once had you arrested for crimes against the Emperor."

"Yes," Morden said. "He did." He waited until Lyndisty pulled herself up to a kneeling position, admiring her strength as she did so. Then he plunged the knife into her chest. He was fairly sure the blow was a killing one, but there was no room for mistakes. So he stabbed her again, and again. With the third blow he was sure it was enough and he stepped back, dropping the dagger.

He smiled. There was very little blood on his suit, and what there was could easily be explained away.

He looked down at Lyndisty's body. To think, if only her true father hadn't died as he had, she would probably still be alive. It was as the Lords of Light said, as the Inquisitors taught. The sins of the father are carried down to the child.

Morden stepped back and looked at his eternal companion. The Vorlon was pleased. It also had to leave.

"I know what to do," Morden whispered. "I will not fail."

There was no obvious reply to that, but he knew the Vorlon was satisfied. He watched in near–ecstasy as the glowing angel of light rose up through the ceiling. He had seen that sight countless times, and yet it always left him filled with awe. What would the sight do to the Centauri, he wondered?

But there was too much for him to do now to worry about his Light Master. He made to leave the room and seek out the Emperor, only to stop and look back. Something.... something seemed wrong, as if there was something hidden in the room. He scanned everything he could see, and there was nothing untoward, but there was that nagging feeling....

No. If there was anything there his Light Master would have found it. He was just paranoid. Besides, he had a lot of work to do.

Morden left, and did not see Lennier slide out of the shadows.

* * *

Why did he not see me? I could feel it.

Easy. A little trick we taught you. You just do not remember us teaching it to you.

I'm not listening to you. I can shut you out. I can....

No you can't, and this isn't your Keeper. I'm someone else. A friend. I've been watching you very closely. I didn't really want to have to act yet, but I couldn't risk the Vorlon finding you. The Shadow Criers either.

Who are you?

I told you. A friend. I wouldn't be surprised if you don't remember me, and it's doubtful we'll be meeting in the flesh any time soon. I just thought you should know that I'm here.

Who are you?

A friend, as I said. I already know your name, so it's only polite to provide you with mine. I am called Galen.

* * *

Warleader Na'Tok had always believed he should make a decision and stick with it. G'Sten had once told him that any leader who is talked out of a decision by his soldiers is not fit to lead.

Still, he felt they at least deserved some explanation.