Disclaimer: None of the characters belonging to JMS could have possibly crawled out of my head, so they're all his.
Thanks: Adi! Yay sparkles!
"Carn Mollari."
Carn looked up, into the face of the Narn. He could barely tell them apart, but this one wasn't one of the ones in charge. The Narn was looking at Carn's identification, frowning as he tried to match the face on the photo with his captive.
"That is me."
"Good." The Narn grabbed his shoulder, hauled him to his feet. Strong. All the Narns were strong. "Come."
He was manhandled past the other captives, sitting against the wall of the facility, Narns trooping past with guns at the ready at regular intervals. It had been hours since the invasion. Most of the victims were still in shock.
The Narn pushed him through an open door. Carn stumbled before catching himself. It was a communications center, one he hadn't seen before. One of the more important Narns was here, gesturing impatiently at a chair.
"We have a job for you," the important Narn said. "You will read a statement."
"Why me?" Carn asked as he took the chair.
The Narn growled impatiently. "Carn Mollari, yes? Related to Ambassador Mollari on Babylon 5?"
Ambassador Mollari. Uncle Londo.
Memory hit him; home, two years ago, begging his uncle for help. "You have contacts in the Royal Court," he said. "You can get me into officer's training. I want to serve the Republic!"
"You will serve them better with your mind," Londo snapped. "You are a bright boy. Do something better with yourself than being shot at."
"But I want to--"
"Faugh! What does a position in society have to do with what you want? You will serve House Mollari, you will serve our Republic and our people, and you will serve them well. Here. Your scientific achievements in school are impressive, yes? There is a research position open on Ragesh 3. Head of the department. I have put your name forward."
"But uncle--"
"No buts! It is an important position. You will serve the Republic with honor. And you will be out of the way of people trying to shoot you."
Carn stared at the paper the Narn handed him. It was neatly typed, in plain Centauri. He read it, and his stomach turned acid.
'You will serve the Republic with honor...'
"I won't read this."
The Narn scowled at him. "You will."
"No," he said, courage growing, "I won't."
The Narn signalled. Someone hit him, from behind, in his side. Pain exploded. His ribs must have been crushed. Something must have been damaged--internal bleeding, something. He couldn't breathe.
He fell off the chair. Another hit, a boot, in his other side. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.
Heavy hands jerked him to his feet, pushed him back in the chair. He collapsed. His world was pain. He didn't know he could hurt this badly.
"You will read the statement," the Narn said again.
Carn whimpered, and picked the piece of paper off the floor. His uncle was right. He had no place in the military. He would never be strong enough.
He prepared himself to read aloud. The Narns waited for him to compose himself, then turned on the broadcast unit.
"My name is Carn Mollari..."