The Other Half of my Soul addm-1

by Gareth D. Williams

  “Of course you would. And why? Because you want the fame, the glory, the honour of being the noble hero! A martyr! A messiah, even!” Jha’dur darted forward and lashed out at Delenn, who parried her blows awkwardly, stepping back slowly, always watching her feet. “What glory is there now? What fame? You are Zha’valen – outcast. This is your great sacrifice.”

  “This is wrong.”

  “So you say.” Jha’dur delivered a lightning-fast blow to Delenn’s head. Although Delenn managed to parry it, the force jarred her whole body. She swayed back.

  “Who are you to say what is right and what is wrong?” Jha’dur spat. “The strong live, the weak die. What more is there to life?”

  “Then your people must have been weak,” Delenn noted. “Since they are all dead. Or maybe… you are wrong.”

  Jha’dur delivered a noise which was almost a snarl. She lunged forward. Pike clashed against pike…

  Blood calls out for blood…

  * * * * * * *

  Sheridan parried a blow aimed at his head as Delenn deflected a strike from her body. Sheridan took a step forward and forced Kalain to backtrack just as Delenn caught Jha’dur off balance and punished her with a blow to the leg.

  Kalain spun on one foot and thrust his pike at Sheridan’s neck. The Starkiller dodged and came close, inside Kalain’s reach. Sheridan broke his pike up to strike Kalain’s chest. The Minbari ducked back, half stumbling, half falling, and he brought his own pike back, holding it against Sheridan’s, their bodies and minds pressing hard against each other’s.

  Delenn, her mind lost in training with Neroon, struck forward, knocking Jha’dur back. The Dilgar broke her pike up and struck Delenn across the head. Ears ringing and eyes streaming, Delenn lashed out. She heard the sound of her pike striking Jha’dur’s and the Dilgar’s brief cry of pain.

  Sheridan and Kalain pressed hard against each other, locked in a corps-à-corps. Kalain was stronger, and fuelled by his angry madness. Sheridan was fuelled by something altogether different. He brought his knee up hard into Kalain’s stomach. And again. And again. The Minbari jerked and fell. A well-timed kick knocked the pike from his hand, and in a moment, Sheridan was kneeling over him, a pike held at his throat.

  Delenn had regained the momentum. Her eyes were still bleary, but she found she could sense where Jha’dur was better than she had before. She remembered her last lesson with Neroon, when he had blindfolded her and told her to fight with her feelings. She had done so, and lost, but only barely. A blow struck Jha’dur’s side, a second merely pushed her back. It was the third that knocked her to the ground. Her pike fell from her grip.

  “Well?” Kalain said, spitting venom from every syllable. “Kill me. Unarmed and alone. That is the human way, is it not?”

  “Kill me,” Jha’dur said. “I can see that you want to. I can see it burning at the back of your mind. After what I’ve done today… I don’t deserve to live, do I? So… kill me!”

  Sheridan hesitated, staring deep into Kalain’s maddened eyes. Hatred… it always ran so deep. Sheridan’s own hatred had killed his wife. Would giving in to it here gain him any better result in the future?

  Delenn hesitated, looking at the being before her. What she said was true. Jha’dur did deserve death, and yet she could not grant it. Delenn had never taken a life with her own hands before, and she could not do it now.

  “You are a coward, Starkiller! Your victory was dishonourable… all your victories have been dishonourable. But what more could I expect from a human?”

  “You are weak, Zha’valen. Like all of your people. Weak and petty and foolish. And dying. You are all doomed now. And whether I live or die… whether you live or die… none of it will matter.”

  “No,” Sheridan said softly. “No. I won’t kill you. It may be the human way, but it isn’t my way. Not any more. Where is Delenn?”

  “No,” Delenn said softly. “No. I will not kill you. You deserve death, yes, but you must be made to atone for what you have done… as I have.”

  “I do not believe you, Starkiller, and I do not know that name.”

  “I do not think you can kill me, Zha’valen. Prove me wrong.”

  Sheridan grabbed the collar of Kalain’s robe and picked him up. “You will take me to Delenn! You will take me to the Grey Council! This has gone too far, and I swear by God, it will stop! Do you hear me? This will stop!”

  Kalain blinked and spat back, “It has gone too far to stop, Starkiller. Far too far.”

  “We’ll see,” he replied. “Now, take me to Delenn, or to the Grey Council. Now!”

  Delenn gripped her pike tighter. Jha’dur was right. Delenn could not kill her. But, another could…

  Deathwalker tried to rise, still smiling. She was still smiling when a burst of energy tore into her back and threw her forward, leaving her slumped over the bodies of those she had killed. Sinoval stepped into view, holding a human weapon. He looked at Delenn and met her gaze, and then he looked around at the bodies.

  “Valen’s Name,” he whispered. “What… have I…?”

  “You should not have killed her,” Delenn said softly.

  “And what do you know? If I had killed her earlier, this… this would never have happened.” Sinoval raised his eyes and looked around at the display surrounding them. He could see the pitiful remains of the Minbari fleet, the Enemy that had destroyed them, and the Vorlons who had come to their rescue.

  “Retreat!” Sinoval ordered. “All Minbari ships, retreat! White Star ships nine, fifteen and twenty-seven form a screen. All other ships, retreat! In Valen’s Name, retreat!”

  But it was far too little, far too late.

  * * * * * * *

  Tryfan closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer to Valen. In the last few hours, he had witnessed the mightiest Minbari fleet ever assembled cut to ruins by the force of the encroaching Shadow vessels. At last the order to retreat had been given, but it would not be enough. Help had come in the form of the Vorlons, but it would take them time to get to the front of the line. Tryfan had to buy his people that time.

  Behind him, the Minbari ships were vanishing into hyperspace. What was left of the Minbari fleet was departing. All they needed was a few minutes longer to get away. Then the Vorlons would be here and the Shadows would flee – unwilling to face their ancient foes just yet.

  Tryfan would buy his people that time.

  The White Star Nine – named the Valen – flew forward, directly into the heart of the Shadow forces. Raining fire upon the Enemy, Tryfan of the Star Riders clan brought the Valen and his crew to their destiny.

  The ship was shot down eventually, but not before Tryfan had done enough. His last sight was of the Vorlons coming into view and the Shadows leaving. His last thought was that he had bought his people enough time after all.

  * * * * * * *

  And thus the Battle of the Second Line ended… the Shadows, having done what they came for, fled before the arrival of the Vorlon armada. What compelled the Vorlons to meet their enemies like this, no one was quite sure, but it had been enough to save the remnants of the Minbari fleet.

  The Vorlons left a few moments after the Shadows did. They said nothing, gave no reason, left no footprints.

  Sinoval, Holy One of the Minbari, stood alone in the Hall of the Grey Council. Delenn and the Starkiller were gone, having taken a flyer back to their ship. Sinoval had barely noticed their presence. Kalain had arrived with Starkiller, but then he left, horrified at the dead mounted around him.

  Sinoval was alone, as he always would be, surrounded only by the dead and the memories of the living.

  He closed his eyes.

  * * * * * * *

  Ex-Minister Londo Mollari considered himself lucky to be alive. If it hadn’t been for Na’Kal’s sacrifice and the arrival of the Vorlons, he might not be. As it was, he made his way to the bridge of the Valerius, where his nephew Carn was in command.

  “Uncle Londo,” Carn said. “You are well?”
<
br />   “Hungover,” Londo complained. “But I have been coping with that for years. Put me through to Captain Ben Zayn.” Carn obliged and Ben Zayn’s harsh, scarred face appeared on the viewscreen.

  “Minister Mollari. Come with us to Sanctuary. I’ll transmit the relevant co-ordinates. Well done.”

  The conversation, such as it was, ended there.

  “Well, short and to the point,” Londo noted.

  “Uncle, would you mind telling me why we are doing this?”

  “I told you, Carn. A bet!”

  “No, uncle. Really why.”

  Londo bowed his head. “To win back our people. We are a dying people, Carn, consumed by our own petty interests. If we are to save the Centauri, then we must work with G’Kar and his associates. We must risk our lives… or give our lives, as Na’Kal did… for the sake of the Centauri.”

  Carn looked at him for a moment, pensive. “Do you really believe that, uncle?”

  “Of course not!” Londo joked.

  Carn smiled. “Well, Sanctuary is as good a place as any, I suppose. Wherever it is.”

  * * * * * * *

  Sheridan and Delenn walked on to the Parmenion arm in arm. It seemed as if they had never been apart since their reunion in the Hall of the Grey Council. Sheridan had been startled by the number of bodies in the Hall, but he had focussed his gaze on the two living people there – Delenn and Sinoval. The Holy One could not meet his gaze, but Delenn could not lose it. Not a word spoken, the two had left, returning to the Parmenion, leaving Sinoval alone to the death he had lived with all his life.

  “Captain!” Corwin said as the two of them arrived. “I… it’s good to see you, sir. Just in time too. Ko’Dath was on the verge of killing half her squad as punishment for letting the two of you get captured.”

  Delenn shot Sheridan a nervous gaze, which he reciprocated. “Well, we’d… better not let that happen, I suppose. I trust you’ve been taking good care of my ship, Commander.”

  “Of course! It’s still in fine order. Well… almost.”

  “Have you heard from Ben Zayn?”

  “Yes. He’s on his way back to Sanctuary. The Minbari got away, the Shadows are gone, and we thought it was a good idea to follow suit before the Resistance Government starts wondering just who we are and what we’re doing.”

  Sheridan nodded. “That might be wise. What about the Babylon?”

  “Staying here.”

  “What? Clark’s bound to find out they were fighting against the Shadows and when he does…”

  “I said the same, but Ben Zayn said something like it wasn’t my concern and who am I to question Bester’s decisions and so on. I don’t know why and I’m not up to arguing with Bester. I do not like Psi Cops.”

  “They’re not meant to be liked,” Sheridan muttered. “But yes, I definitely want a word with Mr. Bester when we get back.”

  “I wonder if I did something dreadful as a child,” Corwin muttered. “My mother warned me never to get involved with telepaths. Oh… speaking of telepaths, we’ve got someone in Medlab you’ll want to visit. Lyta Alexander.”

  “What’s she doing here? I thought she was on Proxima trying to find Mar…” Sheridan paled. “Is Marcus here too?”

  Corwin solemnly and sadly shook his head. “There’s a Narn here as well… Ta’Lon. He has something he says he has to tell you, Satai.”

  “Satai no longer,” Delenn said softly, still looking at Sheridan. “I am Zha’valen now. Outcast.”

  Corwin looked at Sheridan and met his gaze. He noticed Sheridan hold Delenn just a little bit tighter, and he wondered what had happened to the two of them on that Minbari ship…

  * * * * * * *

  The battle’s over, but I feel like it’s still going on. And it is. The Minbari are practically broken now. It’ll take them a long time to recover from this, and the Resistance Government won’t give them a long time. I predict a few months at most before we start taking the war to them… with the Shadows to help. I don’t know… I’m not sure I believe what Delenn’s been telling us, but then I really don’t like where humanity is going.

  I hear there are celebrations down on Proxima at the moment. Under different circumstances, I might be down there celebrating as well, but I can’t… All I can think is how much this cost us. Alisa… what it’s done to the Captain… and then there’s Marcus, of course. It’s funny… I don’t like telepaths, never have, and I barely said three words to Miss Alexander before this started, but it’s her I feel most sorry for.

  I can’t help but have the feeling that she’s been affected by this more than anyone else…

  Commander David Corwin, personal diaries, March 1st, 2259.

  * * * * * * *

  “Lyta Alexander,” she rasped. “Telepath rating P five, complete with Vorlon accessories, reporting for duty… Captain.”

  She was resting back on one of the beds in the small Medlab facility on the Parmenion. Sheridan was surprised at the amount of bruising that covered her, particularly her neck. Her eyes almost seemed… unfocussed… almost vacant.

  “You’ll have to excuse her,” said the doctor on duty. “We’ve given her a few drugs to relieve her pain. They make her a little light-headed. She’s been through a lot. Broken ribs, near strangulation, head trauma, concussion… and I don’t know what she did with her telepathic powers but her brain readings are like nothing I’ve seen before. I’ll have to get a better reading when we get back to Sanctuary.”

  “Marcus?” Sheridan asked. He had a feeling he knew the answer.

  “Dead,” Lyta whispered. “He’s… he’s…”

  “I’m sorry, Captain,” the doctor said. “You’ll have to come back later. She needs to rest.”

  Sheridan nodded slowly and left. As he left he thought he heard a musical voice in his mind.

  It begins.

  * * * * * * *

  Speaking of telepaths, there’s Bester as well. Now him, I really don’t trust. He and Ben Zayn set us up, and the thing is… I still don’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it. Most people are content to have one private agenda. He has a lot more than one…

  I’m not sure about the people he’s got working for him either. I mean, I like Michael Garibaldi… he seems like a good person. I wish I knew why he’s working for Bester. As for Ben Zayn… now there’s a face I’d quite happily never see again. I don’t know. Whenever I see him I just think of the Captain… and how he might turn out like that. Not a pleasant thought…

  Although if the Captain wants to work out a little personal anger on Bester, who am I to argue with a superior officer?

  Commander’s personal diaries (continued).

  * * * * * * *

  “What the hell game are you playing?”

  “Captain Sheridan,” Bester said, walking around his desk slowly. “I really think you’re…”

  “Just answer the question. You’ve known about the Shadows all along, haven’t you? This… all of this… it’s all to use against them, isn’t it?”

  “Who else can fight them, Captain? Oh, the Minbari have their Rangers, but they haven’t been organised for a long time, and after the battle, they won’t be again. No, someone has to hold the line, so to speak.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why send me into the middle of a war zone with no idea of who I was meant to be fighting?”

  “You had to choose your own path, Captain. I cannot hold your hand all the way. We needed to be sure that your loyalties were in the right place. I must admit I was wrong about you. That does not happen very often, Captain. Enjoy it while you can.”

  “We? Oh, of course. Who else can order Narns around? Who else has Centauri… Narns… everyone working for him?”

  “Well done, Captain.” Sheridan stared angrily at the corner of the room where G’Kar appeared. He inclined his head and walked forward, through Bester’s table.

  “So, you’re working for G’Kar?”

  “With G’Kar,” Bester co
rrected him. “I don’t work for anybody.”

  Sheridan shot G’Kar a look. “And you trust him?”

  “Bester has been most useful to me, Captain. It was through him that I gained the telepathic DNA I needed to begin creating Narn telepaths again. It was through him that I gained a second base of operations for my Circle of Light. Here and Epsilon Three. He has been a great help.”

  “Yes, and he’ll want to be paid back as well.”

  “Worry about that later,” Bester said smugly. “To all things there is a time, Captain Sheridan. You’ve done well. We’ve proved that we can defeat the Shadows. The Minbari will no longer pose a threat to humanity, not with their fleet destroyed and the Grey Council dead. Give us enough time and we can win this.”

  “Since when were you a tactician?” Sheridan spat. “You’re going to regret allying yourself with him, G’Kar. Believe me, you will.” He stalked towards the door and then turned. “And next time, come out and tell me what needs doing. I’m not a child, so don’t treat me like one.” He left.

  Bester looked at the holographic image of G’Kar. “Better the devil you know?” he asked.

  G’Kar shrugged.

  * * * * * * *

  And I suppose I’ll have to get to her eventually. Delenn. Sometimes I think this is all her fault. Before she got here, things were… well, not normal… but certainly not this bad. I don’t know. I’m probably just blaming her for nothing, but I still don’t like her, and I definitely don’t trust her. I’ve seen the way she looks at the Captain, and the way he looks at her. I could just be jumping at shadows here… and God knows, the Captain still hasn’t got over Anna yet, but… what if she is using him?

  Susan would laugh and say I’m being paranoid. Well, the old Susan would. It’s funny, but I never was paranoid when she was around. I always felt safe then. Times change, all right.

  I don’t know… maybe I am being too hard on Delenn. She did come back after all, although if what she said is true, then it was probably because she didn’t have any choice. Besides, judging from her expression today, she got some bad news earlier. Some very bad news…