Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 5 : Средь звезд, подобно гигантам.

Was it just the war? Too many bad memories and bad dreams? A child dead, a world destroyed, friends scattered and broken, one compromise too many in the name of a greater good?

Or something else?

The Vorlons had used him, controlled and manipulated and propelled him in the direction they wanted. He might not have minded. They were order, after all, and the galaxy needed order. The Alliance was a noble aim and the Vorlons provided enough power and backing to hold it together until it was strong enough to manage on its own.

But if what Sinoval had said was true, they had manipulated him to leave Delenn to die on Z'ha'dum. If they had done that — and he was growing more and more sceptical of what Sinoval had told him — but if it was true, then no force on Heaven or Earth would keep them safe from his wrath.

It was ironic. He would go to war against a race of Gods, not for the freedom and sanctity of the galaxy, but to avenge a wrong against the woman he loved.

If he still loved her.

If he had ever loved her.

No, he had. Once, he had. He was sure of that. He was not sure if he had ever stopped, or when.

He sighed. At least Sinoval was fighting for what he perceived to be the greater good, even if there was more than just a hint of personal motive in there. What did that say about him personally?

"Who am I?"

There was no other passenger at his side. In fact, the shuttle was only half-full. That was just as well. He did not want anyone to recognise him, and wonder why the General in command of the Alliance fleet was going mad.

If he was going mad.

If he had ever been sane.

"Not who I want to be," he said firmly.

"Or perhaps, whoever I want to be."

He continued drumming his fingers on the armrest, waiting for the shuttle to depart for Minbar.

* * *

The Death of Worlds emerged from hyperspace, escorted by the Vorlon fleet. No one had ever seen such a planet killer before. The Vorlons had hidden a great deal from their servants.

The Vorlons reveal only what they choose to reveal. It was time for them to show the hammer of heaven, the hammer of the light.

You shall have no truck with the Shadow. Those who do shall suffer the cleansing fires. The fire of the Inquisition. The fire of the Network.

The fire of the Death of Worlds.

The Lords of Light cast a great shadow over Narn.

Chapter 2

The existence of terrible weapons of war capable of destroying planets had long been suspected by several of the younger races. Some of the peoples with race memories or historical records of the last Great War speak of them. Markab holy tracts speak of wrath from the heavens that shattered the worlds of the sinful. The Book of G'Quan contains a passage describing a 'Dark Oracle' - obviously either a Shadow itself or, more likely, a Shadow vassal race, possibly a Drakh magus — threatening the doom of the Narn world with black spears from the sky.

There are also several asteroid fields which are believed to be planets destroyed by some catastrophe, although many of these rumours can be discounted. Long-time associate of the Blessed Delenn through his efforts in helping to supply the nascent Kazomi 7, Captain Jack, claimed to have encountered no less than four such destroyed worlds. His claims are usually treated with scepticism, but he was responsible for one of the first sightings of First One ships, early in the year 2262.?

Insofar as any of these stories were believed, it was thought to apply to the Shadows only. The terrifying sight of their Black Cloud rising above Kazomi 7 towards the end of the first phase of the War confirmed the existence of such planet-killing weapons, and no one who saw that battle doubted that the weapon was capable of destroying Kazomi 7.

There were other forces whose powers were more or less acknowledged to be of similar magnitude — The Great Machine, for one. We are indebted to L'Neer of Narn for providing a great deal of information on the capabilities of that artefact, information gleaned from her conversations with Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar.? And, of course, Cathedral....

But no sign of any equivalent Vorlon weapon was ever positively identified. They refused to answer any questions put to them on the subject. Their level of technology was roughly on a par with the Shadows of course, and of the creators of the Great Machine, so it was virtually certain that they possessed the technology to build such weapons, even if they did not actually have the weapons themselves.

But, others argued, if they had the weapons, or even the technology, why had they not employed them on Z'ha'dum, during the thousand years in which the world was deserted? There was no convincing answer for that.

In the middle of 2263 all the questions were answered, although not in a way that anyone would have wanted. It was the second sign of the end of the peace, and the beginning of the month that would later be called the Death of Hope.

The planet killer revealed itself above Narn, ready to inflict punishment for the Kha'Ri's sheltering of some of the exiled Shadow vassal races. It was felt by the Vorlons that an object lesson was needed.

They considered the use of a planet killer to be a lesson.

? GOLDINGAY, D. G. (2293) Stalkers on the Rim. Chapter 4 of The Rise and Fall

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

Third, vol. 3, 2262: The Missing Year. Ed: S. Barringer, G. Boshears, A. E.

Clements, D. G. Goldingay & M. G. Kerr.

? See also Learning at the Prophet's Feet, by L'Neer of Narn.

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.

* * *

To the Narn.

We are your Masters. We are your saviours and your protectors. We are your lawgivers and your enforcers and your judges.

We are you executioners.

You have broken our law. You have had dealings with the Shadow. Their creatures roam your world, sheltered by your leaders, their skills utilised for your petty concerns of power. You have broken our law and you have betrayed those who stand beside you.

You have been judged, and you will be punished.

You have one rotation of your world. Those who are untainted by the Shadow will be permitted to leave, so long as they carry no weapons, and harbour no thoughts against us. Your leaders will not be permitted to leave, nor will those who have sheltered or were aware of the vassals of the Shadow.

One rotation of your world only.

When that is done, your world will die, in fire and ash and rock. You will be consigned to wander the galaxy, a rootless and uprooted people, so that all who look upon you will know the penalty for defying our law.

We are your masters. You will obey us.

If any try to leave who are tainted, or complicit, or seek to oppose us, all will die. We will seek out your entire race and erase you from history. If only the innocent leave, then you will be permitted to endure.

Behold our mercy.

Do not try to fight us, or all will die. Do not try to oppose us, or all will die. Accept our judgement and our justice and our mercy.

We are your masters.

You will obey us.

You have one rotation of your world.

* * *

Once he had been one of the most respected nobles in the Centauri Republic, the Lord-General of their armies and their fleets. His name was feared by his enemies and respected by those who followed him. He was fair, but icily efficient and determined. He was a man who well understood the value of inspiring fear in the hearts of those who opposed him, and he possessed a necessary ruthlessness.

Now he was a broken man, harsh with the pain of his own tears, seeing ghosts in every movement. His crew had fought this battle without him. He had been trying to restore a young girl who had taken her own life. A girl he had struck in a single moment of madness and anger.

His head in his hands, Jorah Marrago did not see Sinoval, Primarch Majestus et Conclavus, enter the room.

"My friend," he said softly.

Marrago looked up. Through eyes scarred by pain and horror, he saw the tall, dark form of his ally. Sinoval's deep eyes seemed to radiate compassion, an odd emotion for him to display. Marrago was not even sure if he was real.

"You cannot bring her back, can you?" he whispered.

"No," Sinoval said sadly. "Her soul has passed beyond. A.... residue remains here, in the place where she died. You could talk to her if you wished, but all that remains is her fear and her anger, and I do not think you would want to listen to what she had to say."

"I was not talking about Senna," he rasped, harshly. "Did we win? Tell me we won."

"That depends who 'we' are. Centauri Prime is as safe as it was yesterday, which is to say, not very safe at all. Those of the Brotherhood who survived fled here with me. A safe haven I spent some time finding. I will have to talk with the leaders, find those who wish to fight alongside me, find those who do not deserve to continue. I would appreciate your advice in this, my friend, but I will understand if you are.... incapable of that at present."