Peter David - Out of the Darkness

Londo had heard that, when one is dying, one’s life flashes before one’s eyes…

As G’Kar’s fingers burrowed deeper, his mind further disassociated, and he waited, and saw nothing… and there was still nothing, and time stretched out and continued to warp around him and there was nothing…

Nothing…

Londo… fight… fight… help us… Shiv’kala… Drakh, masters of shadow, help us… do not flee, do not run, help us, help your servants…

Words… so many words…

It was incredible to G’Kar. He had been a warrior, with no patience for words, and yet words had become his weapon, cutting more deeply than any blade, smashing down more doors than any strength of arm. Words, words came floating back to him…

No one here is exactly what they seem…

I did not fight to remove one dictator just to become another myself…

There s someone else out there, Na’Toth…

The future isn’t what it used to be…

These and hundreds of others tumbled around, fighting to be noticed, to be remembered and treasured and cherished one final time, one final moment before sliding off into oblivion.

He shoved forward, tumbling to the floor, his hands still wrapped around Londo’s throat, his eye still fixed on the malevolent creature staring back at him. He desperately wanted to hear the mouthless creature scream. He thought, in some way, he actually heard it doing so. Not hear it… feel it… Feel it… feel it all…

Feel the agony of seeing his father hanging from a tree, telling his son with his dying breath that he was proud of him…

Feel the warmth of the blood splattering on him… the blood of the first Centauri he killed… Feel the pain of Delenn’s gravity rings crushing him… Feel the loss, the humiliation, the betrayal of his people at the hands of Londo Mollari…

Feel the ignominy of being forced from the council after the Narn had fallen… and the swell of desperate pride as he made his exit speech… Feel the agony of the eye being torn from his face… that was as nothing compared to Cartagia’s lash upon his back…

Feel the momentary glory of triumph, breaking free of his bonds in Cartagia’s throne room, seeing the shock of his Centauri captors as they realized just what it was they were facing…

Feel the serenity of his writings…

Feel the friendship for Londo that he never thought could occur…

Feel the pride in accomplishment… the softness of a woman’s skin pressed against him… the smell of fresh air… the warmth of a sunrise… the coolness of a sunset… the hands around his throat… the pain… receding… the job… not done… not quitting… wetness… on his hands, Londo’s tears flowing, sobbing at his fate, tears on G’Kar’s hands… the hand… of the king… saving the king… saving the realm… saving…

Londo! Do not stop! You can save us! The darkness… there are things in it… I am afraid of the darkness… Londo… love us… Londo… Londo…

Nothing… there was nothing… he was…

I saw nothing… not a thing…

When Kosh emerged from the encounter suit… to save Sheridan that time… Londo had been standing there… and the words, the whispered wonderment…

Valeria… Droshalla… G’Lan…

They all saw… something… and Londo, squinting against the light… saw…

I saw nothing… not a thing… Nothing… the nothingness of an empty soul… the nothingness of the damned… the nothing…

Londo! Save us… save… save…

Save… save us…

Save me…

And then…

…then the mental picture that he had snapped of that moment, buried in his head for all these years… suddenly developed… the detail fleshing in, and he saw… he saw…

…a being… a great being, with wings outstretched, looking up… no, down… down at him, smiling, and the face, a female face, flickering, shifting, and it was Adira, smiling at him, telling him that there was nothing to fear, and she stretched her hand out to him… he reached for it… and tears began to flow, tears of joy… and behind her, a beach seemed to shimmer…

Black tendrils, snared around his arm, pulling him back…

…he fought against them, the final fight, the only fight, the only one that mattered, and his fingers were almost brushing against hers…

Londo… you cannot get away… you will always be ours… you…

I will be my own man, he howled in his mind, and he lunged for her, for the warmth, for the beauty of that winged and glorious creature, and his fingers brushed against hers. The moment they did there was a crackle of energy, and it filled him, and exploded within him, and then the world turned to pure white…

Far, far away from it all…

The female Centauri focused, for the first time in a long time, on those who were tending her. And in a voice surprisingly strong and firm, she said, “Oho. Now he needs me. Typical…”

…and then her eyes closed in repose, and Timov, daughter of Algul, empress-in-exile of Centauri Prime, passed away…

Renegar and Gwynn were standing at Vir’s shuttle, gesturing frantically for him to come aboard. Gwynn seemed to be assessing Senna, casting a critical eye up and down. Senna didn’t seem to meet with her approval. Then again, very little did. So instead she turned her attention to the skies, obviously anticipating the possibility that one of the Drakh might detect them somehow and take their revenge. But as Vir approached, he suddenly slowed, then stopped.

“What the hell are you doing?” Renegar demanded.

Senna turned to look back at him in confusion. “Vir?”

Vir was holding a large satchel clutched in his arms, like a child. Suddenly he shoved it into Senna’s arms, kissed her quickly on the cheek, turned, and headed back for the palace.

“I’m going back to help Londo.”

“You can’t help him,” Gwynn said flatly. “You can only destroy yourself.”

“Destroy myself?” There was a flat, disbelieving tone in Vir’s voice. “You still don’t get it, do you, Gwynn. Everything that was good about me is long gone. Everything that I used to despise about myself, I now realize was the best of me. I can’t destroy myself; Vir Cotto was destroyed long ago. I can only end myself, and believe me, at this point, I don’t much care about that.”

He turned and bolted for the castle. Behind him, Renegar shouted, “You’re being a fool!”

“Long practice,” Vir shouted back.

Renegar watched him go in disbelief, and then shaking his head, he turned to the technomages. “Do we wait for him to come back?”

“Only if we are as great fools as he is,” Gwynn shot back.

“Come.” She headed for the shuttle, then stopped at the door… knowing without even needing to look that Renegar hadn’t budged from the spot. Neither had Senna.

“Leave without me if you want. I’m waiting here,” Renegar informed her.

“As am I,” Senna echoed.

Gwynn let out a long, frustrated sigh, and then said, “No. We’re not. We’re taking off, right now.”

Renegar turned away from her and then felt her hand on his arm. The other hand touched Senna’s arm. They tried to pull away, and Gwynn muttered some words, and they each felt atingling sensation that quickly moved up into their heads. Then just like that, Gwynn was pulling them along and they were unable to prevent her from guiding them into the shuttle.

There was deathly silence in the throne room when Vir entered. Somehow, before he even walked in, he knew what he would find. They were lying there, G’Kar and Londo, hands wrapped around each other’s throats. There was, to the scene, a sense of completion, of closure, as if this was somehow always meant to be.