Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 5 : Средь звезд, подобно гигантам.
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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. E very 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?"
"To the Centauri: I give you back your world. Think about those who would have tried to take it from you. Think about those who would have let it be taken from you. Think and open your eyes and appreciate the world you have."
In the throne room, Timov shivered slightly on the Purple Throne. "Well," she said. "What an.... intense young man."
Durla's eyes were shining.
At that point one of the servants ran into the room, panting and exhausted and close to collapse. "Lady!" he cried. "Lady!"
"What? And I do have a name, you know."
"It is the Emperor!"
The Brotherhood and the Tuchanq went with him of course. As Dasouri said, what choice did they have?
The Alliance let them go. What choice did they have?
It was like looking out on a whole new world, a new day, with new eyes. A new person.
General John Sheridan had woken early this morning and risen quietly, so as not to wake Delenn. He had showered and dressed and wandered out into the wide world, his eyes truly open for the first time in almost three years.
As he reached the door, he stopped and looked back. Delenn was still sleeping, flat on her back, facing the ceiling. She had never really adapted to human sleeping habits and still preferred to lie on her back. She looked very still, almost as if she were dead.