A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 5 : Among the Stars, like Giants. Part 4 : Hopes, Aspirations and Dreams

* * *

"Where is G'Sten? Are there weapons hidden in the village? Is there money? Food? Where is the holy person?

"Where is G'Sten? Are there weapons hidden in the village? Is there money? Food? Where is the holy person?

"Where is G'Sten?

"Are there weapons hidden in the village?

"Is there money?

"Food?

"Where is the holy person?"

Every day there were the same questions. Every day, at precisely one minute before noon, the Centauri Captain gathered the entire population of the village into the square and picked one person at random. The same questions were asked, the same tortures inflicted whatever the answer. None of them knew where G'Sten was. There were no weapons, no money, no food. The holy person had died of a fever.

Every day the same questions.

G'Kar watched every day, praying they would not take him. G'Sten was his uncle, and his leader, but no one knew that. Not the villagers, not the Centauri. He was just a traveller, working in the fields for a pittance, secretly spying on Centauri troop movements. There were plenty of travellers these days, looking for something better.

None of them found it here.

An old man, crippled and ill, flogged to death in the village square.

A young mother, who had offered information freely to spare her pouchling daughter. The daughter was picked the next day to ensure nothing had been left out.

A terrified boy, who had lied for the sake of having something to say. He had been impaled slowly on a blunt pole.

Every day, the same questions.

Every day, the same answers.

Every day, the same screams.

G'Kar was never picked. Every day he watched, his hands clenched into fists behind his back, drawn so tight he drew blood from his palms.

One day I will kill you all, he kept telling himself. Every last one of you, women and children and old men and babies and merchants and nobles and soldiers.

I will kill every last one of you.

Every last one.

It became a litany, just like theirs.

"Where is G'Sten?"

One day I will kill you all.

"Are there weapons hidden in the village?"

Every last one of you.

"Is there money?"

Women and children and....

"Food?"

.... old men and babies and....

"Where is the holy person?"

.... merchants and nobles and soldiers.

"Where is G'Sten?"

One day I will....

* * *

The ships were still, hanging motionless in air, staring at each other, every one ready to fire. On one side the dreaded Dark Stars of the United Alliance, on the other the renegade rag-tag mercenaries of the Brotherhood Without Banners, bulked up by a Tuchanq fleet cannibalised from Narn and Centauri warships.

And in the middle was Cathedral, the dark citadel wherein reigned the man whose name was whispered in terror and awe and fear.

Sinoval the Accursed, himself.

His voice came across their channels, in languages they could all understand.

"To the Alliance: this battle is over. We will leave, myself and these others. They will retreat from Centauri Prime and those who so desire may come with me. Any who are left you may do with as you please. Try to stop us leaving...."

Even across the comm channel, even without the immediacy of his presence, everyone listening shuddered.

"And you will regret it."

Fleet-Captain Bethany Tikopai contacted Babylon 5, and Commander Kulomani.

"Let them leave," the Brakiri said simply.

"But, sir...."

"Fight them and we will die. Your mission was to protect Centauri Prime. That will be done. Any of the raiders who remain are to be stopped, by any means necessary. Secure the defence of the planet and contact the authorities on the surface. Centauri Prime has been deliberately left unguarded, and someone will answer for this.

"But do not engage with Sinoval! None of you."

"Yes, sir."

"To the raiders, to the Songless, to the Bannerless: I offer you songs. I offer you purpose. The worthy and the just may join with me. The others may choose to remain here and die. Come with me, if you so desire, and be judged. Reject me, and I leave you to the mercy of the Alliance and the Centauri."

Co-ordinates were sent over, to all Alliance and Brotherhood ships.

"My lord of darkness and fury and vengeance," Moreil whispered. "You came to us, as was promised, as was prophesied. Under your dark hand we shall destroy our enemies and raise a banner once more. The galaxy will shake at our footsteps.

"Oh, yes, my lord. I will follow you to the gates of heaven themselves."

"Commander?" one of his crew asked him. Dasouri looked at the silent image of Cathedral. They could not find the captain. Marrago's comm was silent.

"We go," Dasouri said. "What choice do we have?"