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

With inches to spare, Sebastian brought up his cane. It was less a parry than an attack on the blade of Stormbringer itself. Kats saw the ball of lightning form an instant before the strike. She doubted if Sinoval did, but he could hardly have missed the sound that accompanied the impact.

It was an awful noise: the sound of metal breaking, and a soul with it. There was a flash of light, a blur of motion, and a short, sudden pain in her stomach.

As Sinoval staggered back, seemingly blinded, she saw that Stormbringer was shattered. The piece that Sinoval still held was no longer than his arm. Sebastian leapt up and thrust forward with his cane. Sinoval tried to parry, but Stormbringer was not long enough, and he was moving too slowly, as if he were swimming in air as thick as blood.

Kats coughed, and realised that she was coughing up blood. She looked down.

And saw Stormbringer's jagged shard embedded in her stomach.

But it hadn't hurt at all, she thought dumbly as she fell forward to her knees. She managed to raise her head and look up, only to see Sinoval reeling backwards and Sebastian aiming carefully–judged blows at him. She tried to say something, but all she could do was open her mouth and cough up more blood.

The last thing she saw before she fell to the floor was something she had never realised could happen:

Sinoval, Primarch Majestus et Conclavus, falling on the field of battle.

Or you will die.

"No, you don't. You're offering us stagnation. You're offering us nothing, now and for eternity."

"Maybe we don't want to be perfect. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe it's our flaws that make life interesting."

"You tried to control me, that's all you did! Don't you dare try this altruistic, we've–only–got–your–best–interests–at–heart spiel on me."

"Maybe we don't need your protection."

"Well, that's a funny thing. One of your guys gave me a gift earlier. The gift of truth, I suppose it was. And it hurt. Oh God, it hurt."

"Shut up! Damn you, I've stood here and I've listened to your crap for all this time, now you can at least listen to me! Yes, the truth hurt, but I'm glad he told me, because after I stopped blaming the person I shouldn't have been blaming, I looked around.

"You sent her there to die, you self–righteous sons of bitches. You sent Delenn to Z'ha'dum to die, and you probably knew she was pregnant and you didn't care one little bit! There's your perfection for you, there's your caring and nurturing and altruism right there. When it comes down to it, you'll throw people away just because it's convenient."

"Yes, damn it, I do, but I regretted it each and every time I did it, and I never, ever sent someone to die just because it was more convenient that way."

"And Heaven forbid I have anything distracting me from that, hey? Like, I don't know, a wife and kid? I'm so sick of you and all like you trying to control me. You tried to make me turn against Delenn by giving me your truth, and for a time I did, because I was so angry I couldn't think straight! Sinoval tried to make me turn against you by mind games and parlour tricks and philosophy and I wasn't sure what to say because I had no idea what I was meant to be doing.

"For a long time I had no idea what I was meant to be fighting for, but after listening to all that crap you've spewed out, I've made up my mind.

"I'll fight for my friends, if I have any friends left. I'll fight for Delenn, if she'll even have me back, which she has no reason to. I'll fight for those who need someone to lead them who isn't a zealot like you or Sinoval.

"And I'll fight against you because you're nothing but arrogant, stuck–up, holier–than–thou puppeteers who think you've got the right to do whatever you want!"

You will obey us!

"No," Sheridan replied calmly.

The Alliance had been tottering for some time before the battle at Babylon 5. Even if events had not been forced as they were, it is likely that the collapse would have happened eventually. Some authors have even maintained that the Alliance was flawed from the very beginning.

The history of the Alliance had been one long walk towards annihilation, with numerous flashpoints. The Drazi Conflict. The enslavement of the Centauri. The destruction of Narn. But the date commonly accepted as being the day the Alliance ceased to function was 20th November 2263. The day of the Battle of Babylon 5.

It was a battle fought on many fronts. Outside the station, the rag–tag fleet Primarch Sinoval had gathered fought the Vorlon forces. Inside, Marrain and the Tak'cha had managed to board the station on a 'rescue mission' that rapidly degenerated into slaughter. Sinoval faced his hunter, the Inquisitor Sebastian.

And most importantly, General Sheridan confronted the Vorlon responsible for it all. The Vorlon was only identifiable by its bone–white encounter suit, but given the Vorlons' habit of changing their encounter suits at their convenience, it is hard to be sure what part that particular creature played either before or after this event. Certainly the Vorlons liked to present themselves as a monolithic, singularly focussed group, many parts of one machine working in unison, but as even Primarch Sinoval was forced to concede, that was simply not true. It cannot be denied, however, that their reluctance to provide names makes tracking their movements difficult.

It is generally believed that the white Vorlon was one of the leaders of the High Command itself, a Light Cardinal. Whether it knew anything about the Aliens from Elsewhere, however, remains unclear.

But at that moment its attention was fixed entirely on General Sheridan, and it was that confrontation that turned the tide of the battle, even the war. It centred, as many turning points do, on an enemy making a mistake. It was a rare error for a Vorlon, but it proved telling.

If tragic.

MATEER, K. (2295) The Second Sign of the Apocalypse. Chapter 9 of The Rise

and Fall of the United Alliance, the End of the Second Age and the

Beginning of the Third , vol. 4, The Dreaming Years . Ed: S. Barringer,

G. Boshears, A. E. Clements, D. G. Goldingay & M. G. Kerr.

"What? Doing whatever you say? Frantically trying to tidy ourselves up, hoping we won't do anything that might upset you? Living without individuality or emotion? Without choice?

"Putting it bluntly, yes, it is too much to pay."

"You don't get it, do you? You really don't. And you never will. I'm not saying we're perfect, any of us, but maybe we don't want to be."

"Maybe, but we'll better ourselves on our terms, not yours. You say you've only ever wanted what's in our best interests?"

"Then leave. Follow the Shadows and get out of our galaxy. Hell, they've left. You won. Congratulations. You don't need to stay any more."

"Really? Well, of course you'd say that. You simply can't admit that this whole thing wasn't about us at all. It was all about you beating them. You fought them for so long, and now you've won you're just sitting around wondering what to do with the rest of eternity. So, you figure, why not? Why not actually try and do something with us, just because you can.

"We're not your guinea pigs, and we're not miniature versions of you.

"At least the Shadows finally admitted it at the end. They accepted they weren't doing any good, weren't doing what they were supposed to do, and they left.

"I'm thinking they might have won after all. At least they admitted their mistake, which is more than you ever have."