Деленн была одной из последних, кто покидал планету. Она стояла в Turon'val'na lenn-veni — Место, где Вален Ждёт — смотрела на руины города, где родилась. Трава под её ногами была чёрной. Красивое, игривое озеро перед нею был заполнено камнями и пылью.
Она вспоминала давнее видение и дрожала от страха, вспоминая из него одну вещь, отсутствовавшую здесь.
Могильный камень.
Но вот она отвернулась и ушла, поклявшись никогда не возвращаться.
Так или иначе, но она знала, что вернётся.
Две недели прошло с тех пор, как последний след жизни покинул Минбар, и из-за дальних звёзд пришла другая жизнь. Корабли появились в вышине, живые существа спустились с небес.
И реликвии прошлого были возрождены.
* * *
Это ещё не конец, — тихо сказал Соновар, обводя взглядом тех, кто собрался на его стороне. Воины, хотя и не все. Несколько жречишек, в которых проблескивал намёк силы. Но зато ни одного мастера. Они были слишком слабы и жалки.
— Это ещё не конец. — Калейн сидел в углу, глядя в стену. Что бы ни случилось с ним, его разум был повреждён. Соновар знал, что это не имеет значения. Калейн был лишь номинальным лидером. Что Синевал, что земляне, что они все по сравнению с величайшим воином, что был когда-либо рождён… Он был здесь во плоти, и этого будет достаточно.
Синевал предал нас всех. Он породнился с демонами и привёл землян в свой дом. Он бросил наш мир на гибель, и он не признал возвращение истинного Валена.
Соновар посмотрел на нового члена своего круга. Рамде Козон, так'ча. — Мы добьёмся нашего спасения, и нашего прощения, и возвращения к нашей судьбе. Все, кто выступит против нас, землян, Синевала, Теней… мы уничтожим.
Три тяжёлых крейсера уже перешли на сторону Соновара. И будет больше.
— Наша судьба ждёт нас, через огонь… и тьму.
Gareth D. Williams
Promises for the Future
Он — возродившийся Вален, воплощение пророчеств и судьбы для минбарского народа, но он также и Джеффри Синклер, землянин, мыслями и чувства которого противоречат его новой роли. Пытаясь понять, в какой степени он находится под чужим управлением, он сражается, чтобы прийти к согласию со своей судьбой. В то же время в другом месте кто-то, некогда очень близкий к нему, находит намёки относительно её собственной роли в Будущем и в Прошлом.
The fall of Earth, for obvious reasons, necessitated a drastic change in our scope and plans for the future. The expansion and growth of the pre-war years were scrapped, and all our efforts were concentrated simply on surviving. A great many of our former allies, most especially amongst the League of Non-Aligned Worlds, were reluctant to deal with us, out of an understandable desire to prevent the ire of the Minbari from turning their way. The Centauri were similarly wary, their only messages to our Government being along the lines of 'We warned you'.
They had, of course, or at least their Ambassador had warned certain representatives in our Government and military of the foolishness of antagonising the Minbari. They were right, obviously, but the satisfaction of being able to say 'We told you so' surely did not make up for the loss of an ally.
Only the Narns were willing to help us, and then only at an astronomical cost. While the rest of humanity needed their protection — and however inadequate it seemed, it must have worked — we were unwilling to stomach the colossal taxation rates their Government demanded. Even with a number of other companies incorporated into ours, including AreTech, Edgars Industries and GenTech, we were still hovering on the edge of insolvency.
And then came our miracle. After several years of scraping together everything we could, we were presented with a golden opportunity. The conditions seemed minimal, the price negligible, and the rewards power enough to restore us to far beyond even our former glory.
At the time we were too busy pinching ourselves to make sure we were not dreaming. We certainly did not think about the real price of this new deal.
On reflection, that was a mistake of galactic proportions.
Excerpts from a memo to Orin Zento, Chief Executive Officer of Interplanetary Expeditions, from Del Varner, Ambassador and Foreign Officer.
* * *
How strange, thought Delenn of Mir, formerly Satai of the Grey Council, now Zha'valen and outcast and yet so much more, as she looked out over the huddled masses who had once been her own people and were now nothing more than helpless refugees, their lives bound to the whims of aliens and foreigners. Once the Minbari had been spoken of in hushed whispers and with frightened awe. Now they were destroyed, their culture torn apart, their world reduced to poisoned ashes.
How strange. We seem to have lost our sense of purpose in recent years. We have been damned, I think, ever since we annihilated a people.
Her own people truly did not seem aware of their actions. Many rested against walls or in the streets, sleeping fitfully, moaning softly. Many looked afraid.
Most of those here at Kazomi 7 were from either the religious or worker castes. The warriors largely disdained the help of a pathetic, outcast 'priestling' and chose either acceptance and service with 'Primarch' Sinoval, or…. more direct action elsewhere.
We have all fallen, Delenn observed sadly to herself. She had witnessed many horrible changes in her people in the more than ten cycles since the start of the war, but nothing — not even the image of her ruined world — brought this home so much as the sight of these forlorn refugees.
Aliens looked at them with suspicion in their hard eyes. Mainly Drazi — Kazomi 7 had once been a Drazi colony after all, and they still formed the bulk of the security forces along with the mammoth Bulloxians — but there were also Brakiri, Hyach and Abbai here. Administrators, clerks, security officials, customs officers — all processing the details of those arriving, allocating accommodation, recommending medical assistance where necessary, which was often.
Kazomi 7 was nothing if not an eclectic society these days.
Delenn heard a gruff cough beside her and she turned to see Taan Churok, the Drazi Head of Security and Minister for Defence. He had been a barkeeper before the Drakh invasion had turned him into a leader, and the birth of an Alliance had given him responsibility. His face bore a permanently unhappy expression, especially around the refugees. The Drazi were a strong race, and disliked shepherding the weak. Taan Churok would have fitted in very nicely with Sinoval, Delenn thought. Still, she found it hard to dislike him. His hearts, as the humans said, were in the right place.
"Too many of them," he observed. "Far too many."
"There will be room for them," Delenn replied firmly. That was one of her strongest beliefs. There would be room for everyone on Kazomi 7.
He gave the Drazi equivalent of a shrug. "If you think so."
"How goes the rebuilding work in the old Maul Sector?"
"It goes." He nodded at a figure surrounded by Minbari. "Tiring, he is."
"I am not surprised," she said softly. "How long has it been since he slept?"
"As long as it has been since you did." It was a fair point, one which Delenn accepted without comment. She had been on Minbar too long, away from the seat of the United Alliance, and yet she had been needed here. Now that she had returned, she was finding it hard to catch up on everything that had happened in her absence. But with John…. away, she was at least finding the time, even if there was some difficulty with the motivation.
"Still, he should rest. Surely he cannot endure much longer."
"Know you of another with his gifts, who can do what he does?" Taan Churok's voice was disapproving. He had argued long and hard against opening Kazomi 7 to more people, and no doubt he would have been arguing even more strongly against permitting the Minbari refugees to come, had not Delenn simply overruled everyone.
"Essential he is." He gave that Drazi shrug again.
Delenn had to agree. He was essential, and unique. Vejar was the one technomage known to have remained behind in civilised space. The others had all gone. For whatever reason, he had stayed, and had chosen to use his strange powers — not science, nor magic, but a strange mix of the two — to help protect the world he had chosen.
Delenn could see him now. He was slight, seemingly so slender as to break at a touch, and yet his young frame harboured more power than she could have believed possible.
As she watched, Vejar stepped back and ushered off another Minbari. The figure, probably a worker, smiled and walked away from him, making for the two Drazi guards who would carry out the customs check. Vejar bowed solemnly and ushered on the next one.
An important duty, but an exhausting one. Vejar had the task of protecting Kazomi 7, just as Taan Churok did, but from a different direction. While Taan Churok observed for conventional threats, Vejar looked for the…. more unconventional.
The next Minbari, an old, hobbling priest, clearly favouring her left leg, reached the technomage. She smiled benevolently as he placed his hand on her forehead.
Instantly, her whole demeanour changed. A look of insane hatred passed over her face and she lunged at the technomage, her fingers clawing for his eyes. Drazi from all around converged on her, their long, wickedly-pointed knives in their hands instantly. Vejar looked unconcerned, however. Entwining his fingers into a steeple, he took measured steps back from his assailant. With a smooth motion, he blew across the tips of his fingers.
