Gareth Williams - A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 5 - Among the Stars, like Giants. Part 5 - The Three–Edged Sword

"We brought this on ourselves. u w

"I do not speak of our Government. Whatever they did, they have paid for. I speak of our people. I speak of those of us who believed that we were superior and that no one else mattered, that we could interfere in the lives and homes of others at our pleasure, that they did not matter, that they could not fight back. We used this Alliance as a shield and as a sword, striking at our enemies in our ignorance and hiding behind it when they sought to strike back. i l

"And now we have discovered that there are those more powerful than we are. We have learned this with great pain and great loss. It is a lesson we must not forget. None of us. l o

"We are all stronger together than we are apart. b e

"Perhaps, if a better world can come of this for everyone, then those who died need not have died in vain. If we can all turn this loss to a greater good, as we did at Kazomi Seven, then we can create something greater than what was destroyed. y u

"I hope for that with all I have, and it is all that sustains me. s y

"But I doubt, truly, in my heart, that it will ever happen. o u

"What say all of you?" w i

There was a pause, in which Lethke hid his head in his hands. There were no words. There just were no words at all. l l

Taan Churok rose. "G'Kar," he said simply. "You wrong." o b

It was G'Kar who noticed the shadow first, and he turned to face the door. Lethke looked up a moment later. e y

The silhouette of the Vorlon was stark in the doorway, casting a black and terrible shadow into the room, touching each and every one of them. u s

Help me!

The scream filled Talia's mind, at the same moment as it echoed across the network. A million trapped minds and souls, some imprisoned for millennia, their bodies long rotted to dust and ash, screamed as well. y o

And they provided the help needed by their saviour. u w

A bright, terrible light filled Dexter's vision, rising from the shadow Talia cast before the box. The creature there, the Alien, the wrong, unnatural abomination, seemed to recoil from the shock. Something inside Dexter's mind reached out past the pain and the revulsion and joined with the rush of energy and consciousness. i l

The box itself was surrounded by light. Dexter could not see it himself, but the others could. There were so many souls, beings composed entirely of light and power, battling against the Alien. l o

Talia felt something reaching across countless light years, from somewhere so far away she could barely imagine it, a gesture as gentle as a caress on the nape of her neck. b e

"Al," she thought. She did not whisper, for she could not make any sound, and she did not cry, for her eyes could not shed tears. It took every effort she had to simply give birth to that thought, but she managed it. y u

"Al," she thought again. s o

The necropolis was bathed in light, but she knew it was temporary, a tiny spark as of a match struck against midnight. It was a momentary blink to beings such as these. r y

The image before her knew that. o u

We have waited a thousand times your lifetime, the dark, hateful voice said to her. D o you think this gambit means anything to such as us? Your Gods are but insects compared to us. Your lords bow down before us. Your power is a shadow before our presence.

Talia could feel her eyes bleeding. "You haven't won yet." w i

We will. Even if we never truly cross the barrier to your existence. Even if you close this gate and all others, we will always triumph. All things end. Even planets, even stars, even universes die. At the end, there is nothing but death.

"You're right," she whispered. l l

If all ended in death, it didn't matter to them whether they won now or not. d i

But it did matter to her. e

The light grew brighter, briefly, but then it began to die. This had been the work of a moment, nothing more, and it had not tapped into even a fraction of the power of the network. She could not do that and still live as anything mortal. y ouw

And all it had done was hold them back for a single second, for the blink of an eye. i llo

She withdrew, and returned to a body racked with pain and blood. Her vision was red and misty, and the light here was almost blinding. b eyu

But she managed to look up to see the creature return through the box. s ory

And then it closed. o uwi

And remained closed. l ldie

The words sang in their minds with the mournful dirge of hanged men at dusk, with the rattle of bones sleeping unquietly in their graves, with the horrifying finality of judgment and sentence.

Lethke tried to speak. So did G'Kael and Taan Churok.

The Vorlon heard none of them.

G'Kar said nothing. Not then.

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There was light, and it filled his mind.

There was purity, and it illuminated his soul.

There was stillness, and it sounded in his ears.

There was justice, and it rang true to his immortal being.

While elsewhere the first deaths were beginning, their harbinger stood alone and silent, looking up across the depths of space with eyes that had seen things no human should ever see, holding his cane precisely with hands that had touched things no human should ever touch, with a mind that remembered doing things no human should ever do.

He was no longer human.

He was, as everyone else was now, a servant of a higher power.

It was beginning, but the one he waited for was not here yet. He would be here soon. He had been marked, tainted with the memory of his thoughts.

"Primarch Sinoval," Sebastian said softly and calmly, with just a hint of anticipation. "Do hurry. I am waiting for you."

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As Delenn walked through the winding paths of the garden, she did not stop even once to look at the plants around her. She had to blink against the extreme brightness of the lights, and an uncomfortable itch was developing on the back of her neck.

A stone turned under her foot and she stumbled. Her knee gave way and she crashed to the ground. Reaching out instinctively to save herself, her hand caught a small bush and sharp thorns raked at her skin. She hit the ground with a jarring thud. For one painful, awkward, embarrassed moment she lay still, then she managed to haul herself back to her feet.

Normally she would have been very conscious of the loss of dignity, but there was no one around to notice. In fact she had seen hardly anyone during her walk. Fortunately there had been one hurrying Brakiri merchant who had remembered seeing John heading for the garden.

Wincing from the pain in her leg, she looked at her hand. There was a ragged tear in the skin and three perfect, pristine drops of blood decorated her palm. Angrily, she wiped them on the hem of her skirt and carried on her way, slower and more laboured than before.

She found John sitting on a bench in the centre of the maze that the garden had become. The plants cast faintly sinister shadows on the path in front of her and she had hesitated to step on them, but fortunately the clearing where John sat was open and bright.

She said his name, once, softly. He did not react, and she said it again, moving forward slowly. Again he did nothing, and so she spoke again, even louder.

He turned and looked at her. She took a step back, imagining for a second that she had travelled backwards in time during her hellish trek through the garden. He looked as he had looked when she first met him, wounded and battered by countless years of war, friendless and alone and trapped.