"Blood fills my mouth. Fire sears my veins. I choke back a howl. The silver knife slips-the choice is mine.
I am death or life. I am salvation or destruction. Angel or demon.
I am grace.
I plunge in the knife.
This is my sacrifice - I am the monster."
- The Dark Divine, Bree Despain
After a full night's rest on the transport, Timov awoke, but she did not stir. Cracking her blue eyes open, she felt her energy had been rejuvenated by the hours of rest, and she felt like a cocoon of energy pulsated around her. She knew better than to wake Londo. The man usually went to bed far after everyone else, often working into the late hours, and he was usually up far before them. Because he only slept a few hours a night, he slept like a stone, dead to the world, though the world was often saddled with his snoring. Waking him prematurely usually had disastrous consequences, and it was best to let him awaken by his own power.
She wondered at how light his embrace was – so light it did not cause her any discomfort, though much of her body still throbbed with the constant dull ache of her illness. She laid a gentle hand on his chest, feeling his dual hearts beating, and she wondered whether he had gotten his old heart back or if the device was beating for him even in the afterlife. Silly questions, she thought to herself.
Glancing down, Timov was chagrined to see the man had not even had the sense to take his boots off before crawling into bed, but that was the Londo she knew so well – brash and charging into everything headfirst. She traced the scar on his forehead where ricocheted debris from an assassination attempt on Durla's life had hit him. Yes, headfirst into everything. He was lucky it hadn't gotten him killed before he had decided to have his life ended by G'Kar.
She studied his sleeping face, which had years stripped from it. He was like a new man without the weight of power and responsibility crushing his every breath. But even though he looked younger and seemed more content, she noticed the worry lines caused by years on the throne were still deeply etched into the corners of his eyes. Apparently some things couldn't be undone, even after death.
She glanced at his hair and wondered what possibly could have happened. He usually had more sense than hacking away unevenly at his crest. She thought the new aristocracy style looked absurdly gauche, but at least no one else could see him. If he was lucky, his crest would grow back in the afterlife.
She could not help but consider how long Londo might stay. He was always on the move, so now, freed from the responsibilities of the crown, she couldn't imagine that he would sit idly by, twiddling his thumbs. As she closed her eyes again, she resolved to simply enjoy these moments. And, against her more practical sensibilities, she allowed herself to relish something she had been denied for so long – the symbol of his affection, love, and concern, expressed in the simplicity of an embrace. It was bittersweet, she thought to herself, that such a moment could not last, and that they were only allowed it in the temporary purgatory that was her life and his death.
Finally, inching closer, she leaned in determined to steal the kiss that she had been denied since the guards dragged her from his bedroom on her last evening in the palace – the night she had enjoyed dinner with him and Vir in the private dining room, and they had all gotten quite silly and intoxicated. She vaguely remembered that Londo had thrown a full glass of some sort of liquor at the wall, forgetting to drain it before he threw it. In a way, their intoxicated kiss in the dining room had led to the spectacle later in his bedroom, and she desperately wanted to forget how disastrously the night had ended. Perhaps replacing it with the new memory of a kiss could wash all the painful memories away. At the touch of her lips, Londo awoke, and his amorous hands ran down her body, but she batted them away.
"That's it?" he asked, still half-asleep.
"Does the term 'necrophilia' mean anything to you?" she tormented him, a smile hinting at the corners of her mouth.
"I am not a corpse," he chuckled, leaning in.
She pushed him away, stiffening her arms against his advances. "That may be true, but I almost am one. I feel oddly better this morning, but I do not feel well, Londo. My body aches. I felt as though I was ready to pass beyond the rim yesterday, yet I am still here. Besides, you had your chance," she said, referring to the night in the palace, so long ago. Still, he persisted, breathing in her intoxicating scent, and he demanded another kiss until she softened, allowing their lips to meet, warmness blossoming from their touch. He couldn't resist her touch or the thoughts flooding his senses, but at last, he pulled away, burying his head in the pillow next to her with a groan. "I see you are going to torture me in this life as well. Now I must wait for you to die also?"
Smoothing his crest into place, her eyes danced, "You'll manage."
He sighed as he threw his feet to the ground, resting in a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He put a hand to his forehead, still looking very tired. "Anyway, I know you don't feel well – neither do I, now. This is worse than a hangover," he muttered.
Timov narrowed her eyes at his behavior. "Why is it that I am feeling better and you are feeling worse?"
Londo slowly stood up from the bed, still fatigued as he stretched his arms out in a broad gesture while he listened to the hush of the bedroom. He let the silence sink in for several moments before responding. "This is the sound of no bells ringing."
Timov narrowed her eyes. "You don't fool me, Londo Mollari. Are you playing at God?"
Retrieving his waistcoat and jacket from the floor, he refastened the waistcoat, securing each button one-by-one. Clearing his throat, he finally responded once its double row of buttons were fastened, "I can assure you, I'm not playing at anything."
Timov pushed herself into a sitting position against the plump pillows that lay against the bed's headboard. "What have you done?"
He put on his coat, smoothing its lines. "I have done nothing." While Mollari might have convinced himself he was not lying because, technically, he had not extended her life spark, he had donated his energy to her cause when he had embraced her, allowing her lack of energy to draw his away, which is why he felt utterly devoid of it. "Besides, if you wish to die," he told her, "there is poison in my desk drawer at the palace, and I'm sure you are perfectly capable of obtaining some yourself if you cannot wait that long. But I cannot assure you of what will happen after your death. That is up to the gods."
Timov thinned her lips, "You don't believe in the gods. And neither do I."
A hint of a smile played across Londo's face, "Nevertheless." Mollari knew that if she believed her death was taken from her, she would be bitter and resentful, but painful as it might be, if she had a measure of choice in the matter, she would be far more likely to accept it with equanimity. "Now," he headed for a mirror, annoyed when he found it lacking the reflection of his image, "we have some other business to attend to – like a few royal orders."
"No." Timov said firmly as she folded her hands and rested them on her torso.
"No?" Londo scoffed. "What do you mean, no?"
"I said, no. It is a word you have surely heard before. Perhaps when you were a child, though not anytime recently." She was rather enjoying his frustration now that he could not lord his position over her and everyone else in the room. "The tables have turned, have they not?"
Londo folded his arms in annoyance, "Timov, this is not a game."
Fire blazed in her eyes for a moment, "I know that. I won't be issuing any more of your edicts until you fulfill the promise you made to me yesterday and explain yourself and the circumstances which have given rise to this situation. I feel that you put me in a terrible position yesterday, relying on a few choice words from you and, apparently, G'Kar. What if they'd asked something that I hadn't been able to answer?"
The annoyance fell from Londo's face as he realized that she was making a reasonable request, so he draped his hands behind his back thoughtfully, rewinding his mind to the events almost twenty years before. Londo proceeded to tell Timov, sparing no lurid or embarrassing detail, the exact journey which had brought him to his end in the throne room. Twice, they were interrupted by Palco's update on the progression of the flight and Luccia attending to Timov's vital statistics, but the Empress sent the staff from her room as quickly as possible. When Londo finished several hours later, having detailed the entire affair from his first meeting with Mr. Morden through his desperate struggle to win time for Sheridan and Delenn to escape, Timov was visibly stunned. Over the course of his story, he watched her expressions change from anger and disgust to revulsion and horror to shock and pity. He could tell that it was all too much to process in one sitting, and from her demeanor, she was not yet ready to broach the entirety of what lay on his head. For that, he was grateful.
At last, after many minutes of strained silence, Timov finally spoke up, "I know guess I know what must be done first."
Mollari frowned, "And what is that?"
Ignoring his question, Timov rang for Palco, who brought her the royal stationary and the seal of her office. As she took it, she stopped him, "Palco, I need you to contact President Sheridan and ask him and Entil'Zha Delenn if it would be possible to obtain an official report regarding his recent time on Centauri Prime. Please impress upon President Sheridan and Entil'Zha Delenn my urgent request on behalf of the Centauri people – we must have some other proof besides our own to offer the Narn – something to build trust between our people. I believe a report from Sheridan and Delenn detailing the circumstances that they witnessed in the palace would be a great help. Please ask them if they would be so kind as to send it directly to the Kha'Ri."
Palco bowed low as he dutifully took her instructions. Bidding him to stay a moment longer, she said, "I have an order that I would like to be issued at once." With the decisive look of satisfaction on her face, she wrote out a royal order. Signing it with a flourish, she smiled at it with pleasure.
Londo looked chagrined as he glanced over her shoulder, "I see you've rescinded my order to keep you from within 100 miles of the palace. Not that there's anything particularly desirable to do there at present."
Timov folded the order and gave it to Palco, sending him away. "Yes," she turned to Londo with a tight smile, "I have rescinded it. In fact, it will give me great pleasure to issue several royal orders undoing your ill-begotten work."
"All right," he put up his hands in surrender. "I am dead already, so I am telling you that I know what I have done, what I have caused. If I did not, I would have tried to hide the details from you just now, to spare myself from hearing them again and to spare you from knowing them. But I would ask you this one thing – spare me the pain of one thousand cuts. Either tell me that I have deeply disappointed you, and my family, and our House, and the Republic or shriek at me with anger and smash something against the wall, but please, Timov, do not prolong my suffering by alluding to my deeds at every turn. That, I cannot bear."
For the first time, she perceived the plaintive expression on his face, and she understood that his shredded dignity had been laid bare. In that moment, she took pity him, and with one sigh, she let go of all the biting words she had on the topic, for she could see he had cut himself to pieces over the jagged paths that he had traveled. "And what orders did you want to discuss?"
Londo gratefully accepted her change of topic. "This is perhaps less important than the other matters facing the Republic, but as a man of tradition, it is something I feel should be done with haste, nevertheless." Seeing Timov's questioning face, Londo surveyed the floor. "Under Cartagia, we lost a great deal, including the emperor's telepaths. They should be restored to their rightful place at the palace. The reason the Republic has had a long tradition of four telepaths serving the emperor was to keep two to stay at the palace and two to stay with the emperor so that the throne would be protected and informed at all times. The destruction of our telepaths by Cartagia was exploited by the Drakh. If there had been proper telepathic security controls around the palace, the Drakh could have never exerted their influence over the Regent. Our telepaths must be restored to their proper place in society – and that includes the four telepaths whose duty it is walk with the emperor."
Timov sighed. This seemed like a very tall order. "And where will we magically conjure four telepaths who have been raised together since birth to serve the throne?"
Londo finally met her eyes, "You will not find such a thing for another generation. But, in the meantime, you will contact the Nunnery at Lake Challa. I have it on some authority that they may be able to provide some assistance in locating suitable candidates, especially . . ." he glanced at his hands "if some gesture is made in remembrance of the four who sacrificed their lives under Cartagia in service of the Republic."
"This sounds like something Vir might be better suited to handle."
"No," Londo cut her off, "that is exactly my point – the request would be better received coming from a woman."
"The next thing you'll say is that I need to go there and you will accompany me. I know the rumors just as well as you do, Londo."
Londo managed a smile, "I believe that even in my present form, I would not be granted admittance to the Nunnery at Lake Challa."
Timov sighed, "And what if Vir decides he does not want these telepaths?"
"They are for the security of the palace. They are a benefit if he wants to use them, and even if he decides not to travel with him, still they will serve an important purpose at the palace, as they always have."
After a moment of consideration, Timov decided she agreed with Londo, and she wrote out a long letter addressed to the Nunnery, describing the Republic's debt to its telepaths and requesting to open a dialogue with the Nunnery to locate suitable candidates. Usually such a request would have been more appropriately addressed to the Prophetess Supreme, but the last one had mysteriously disappeared, likely at the hands of the Drakh in their efforts to cull telepaths from detecting them on Centauri Prime. A replacement had not yet been installed, though the installation had been overdue for some time. She sent the communiques with Palco to relay electronically to their final destinations and asked him to prepare further intelligence briefings on matters related to the security situation in the capitol city.
As Palco left, Mollari sat on the edge of the bed and gently took her hand in his. "And are you feeling up to what lies before you today, my dove?"
"I will make it, one way or another," she tried not to think of how weary she was just sitting upright. "One way or another," she murmured.
Several hours later, the transport docked, and before the royal entourage was allowed to debark on the surface of Narn, Na'Toth entered the vessel after stationing guards at its entrance. Unbeknownst to her, she had her own entourage consisting of one deceased Narn religious icon trailing at her heels.
Na'Toth had aged well, as most Narn did. Though her spots had slightly dulled and faded, she was still physically fit, and she proudly carried herself. She had more backaches now, mainly from the hours she spent each day creating the bas reliefs of Da'Quana, but mostly, her age showed in the corners of her eyes and the arthritis that had plagued her since being chained up in the dungeons of Centauri Prime.
Na'Toth's red eyes scanned the transport interior, and she was met by the vessel's captain, Palco, and Provi. The three Centauri men briefed her on the vessel's strict timetable – Empress Timov would be on the ground only briefly for the condensed schedule due to her delicate condition. Palco went over the Kha'Ri's detailed schedule with Na'Toth, and Provi questioned her about the security arrangements that were being taken, including guard positions and other precautions considering the imposing security concerns. When they had finished their briefings, Palco led Na'Toth to the Empress's private quarters. The Empress had dressed but was seated in a robust cushioned chair. At Na'Toth's entrance, she rose, beckoning Na'Toth in, but she immediately dismissed Palco, wishing to speak with Na'Toth privately. Na'Toth brought her two fists to her chest in the traditional greeting, though there was a lack of crispness to the move, as if it was required but not necessarily earned.
Na'Toth looked uneasy in the Empress's quarters, and in truth, she was very uncomfortable. The Centauri had caused her people no end of suffering, and they were the cause of her personal misery for years in the palace's dungeons. The only race she might detest more than the Centauri were the Dilgar who had implanted a medical experiment in her grandfather's brain which had slowly destroyed him from the inside out. To be called to service by the Kha'Ri at the request of the Empress had been shocking, but her honor would not allow her to refuse the request by the First Circle. Yet, even now, she wondered if she should have agreed to such an endeavor. Surely, there were other Narn who were younger and more appropriate for this assignment – others who had less personal experience with the brutality of the Centauri dungeons, others who had not been left forgotten and alone in that dark and terrible place smelling of death and blood. She still visited it in her nightmares, and she had no wish to be reminded of it again.
It had taken her years to recover from her experience on Centauri Prime. Her body had healed relatively quickly, but her mind had taken much longer to heal, and it was still scarred from the experience. Whereas once she believed only in herself, the dungeons had broken her spirit, and she had only dragged herself from the resulting deep, dark depression by slowly turning the pages in G'Kar's book. She didn't take all of his words to heart – she was far too practical for that – but his words had given her hope after she had returned home – and hope was something that had been sorely lacking during those terrible days in the dungeon. She was not a rabid follower of G'Kar, for she knew him too well, but she cherished his thoughts and the eloquent words preserved in his published volumes. She also felt an inherent sense of duty toward the former ambassador-turned-prophet, and she guarded his legacy closely. Indeed, it was a mutually born respect, for he had named her the chief executor of his will.
She knew that G'Kar had been held on Centauri Prime for almost a year, and although it was shocking that he had died, it wasn't entirely unexpected after her own experience there. Yet, until she received the news, she had held out hope for his release and repatriation. But the ominous conditions on Centauri Prime and the Emperor's decree banning all off-worlders had not boded well for his future there. Nevertheless, she knew that something of an odd friendship had sprung up between G'Kar and Emperor Mollari, even though they had been bitter enemies and rivals during her time on Babylon 5. The change was still incomprehensible, but she had seen it herself when they had rescued her from the dungeon chamber, so she knew it was not a mere rumor that the Narn prophet and the Centauri Emperor had come to some sort of mutual truce, and G'Kar had been a vehement supporter of finding some permanent solution to the troubles between their peoples; although, as he had once glibly said, "If the Centauri fell off the end of the universe, it would improve the rest of gene pool considerably."
The abrupt news of G'Kar's death had left her in shock, and she had felt the overwhelming quiet desperation that she had thought she had left in the dungeons so long ago again. Na'Toth prided herself on her fierceness as a warrior, so it surprised her when the news of G'Kar's death seemed to squeeze her own throat closed with emotion, and her breathing became labored. She refused to see a doctor, turning to the practice of meditation to relax her body, and after a few hours, she had found her breath flowing normally again, but she knew his death had greatly affected her. She had not actually seen G'Kar in some years, and when he did come to Narn, it was briefly, but every time he returned, he would quietly knock on her door, asking relief from the hordes of his followers, and they would talk like old friends, insulated from the throngs outside. The years passing between visits did not seem to alter the easy banter they fell into as soon as he arrived. And now, there would be no more of these unexpected visits.
Although Timov stood when Na'Toth entered, she immediately sat again, clearly quite pale and ill. Na'Toth couldn't believe this was the Empress of the Centauri Republic. Londo Mollari was anything but fragile and breakable, but this woman – his wife – looked like she was knocking on death's door. For such a woman to come to Narn under these conditions was nothing short of insanity, but Na'Toth had given her word, and she would fulfill her promise and her duty to the Kha'Ri.
Timov could see the misgivings in Na'Toth's eyes, "I'm sure you are wondering why you are here."
"I am here because the Kha'Ri asked me to come," Na'Toth said curtly.
"Yes," Timov folded her hands. "About that. As I'm sure the Kha'Ri told you, I requested your services specifically."
Na'Toth did not reply, but her eyes flared.
"Well," Timov continued, experiencing the unknown sensation of being at a loss for words, "I understand my husband saved your life once – with G'Kar."
"It would be more accurate," Na'Toth said flatly, "to say that your husband – and your people – robbed me of several years of my life and that, after doing so, he submitted to G'Kar's demand to free me."
'I see," Timov took a big breath and met Na'Toth's gaze at last. "I want you to know that I am sorry for your imprisonment and your treatment at our hands. We have had many dark years on Centauri Prime. And it was not just you, Na'Toth, but I'm sure you were a witness to the many Narn and Centauri who died imprisoned in those same cells under Cartagia. And that is why I am here – to put a stop to this bloodshed that has arisen in light of the deaths of G'Kar and Londo. And I was told you are a woman of honor who may help me in this endeavor."
"Who told you this?"
Timov shook her head, "It is quite unbelievable, I can assure you." But after seeing Na'Toth's stare, she continued, "Among my people, it is said the Dowager Empress speaks with the deceased Centauri Emperor. I did not believe it myself until . . . until Londo appeared to me just before I learned of his death. And, whatever you believe, he has told me that G'Kar is with him and that G'Kar recommended you to this endeavor. G'Kar said . . . he said that if you gave your word, there was no stronger bond in the universe."
Na'Toth's eyes narrowed. She knew the Centauri were quite insane, but this. This was true madness. Whatever disease Cartagia suffered from, it seemed to run in Centauri royal bloodlines. "I see," she said, without further remark.
"I know," Timov said again, "it must sound unbelievable. And rest assured, I am the last person to believe something like this, especially without proof, so I can understand your reticence. Indeed, I would ask that you keep this conversation between us – for it does make me seem quite insane, and I do need the confidence of the people – yours and mine – just now. In any event, they have impressed upon me their insistence that I tell you the details of their plan to free you from the dungeon cells." And with that, Timov told Na'Toth of everything that was said and done from the moment Londo and G'Kar had entered her cell to the moment she had been placed upon the transport in such detail and with such accuracy that it was difficult to accept that Timov hadn't actually spoken to them about it.
"I know what you are thinking," Timov waved a hand toward Na'Toth. "You are thinking to yourself that I must have spoken with one of them prior to their deaths, but I can assure you, my husband banned me from the palace a decade ago, and I have had extraordinarily little contact with him in the years since. We had but one short conversation, and as you can imagine, the topic of your incarceration and subsequent freedom did not come up when I was telling him to rot in hell. And beyond reading the ISN reports of G'Kar's imprisonment and the occasional gossip, I knew nothing of the circumstances of G'Kar's time there."
Na'Toth was not a spiritual woman, but her people believed in other incarnations, and she had read enough of G'Kar's work to allow herself the remote possibility of mysticism. Although Na'Toth took after her mother in the realm of spiritual understanding, Na'Toth had taken solace in the semi-spiritual words of G'Kar during her healing process. So, she did not have to explain the mystical or understand it, but she allowed herself the hint – the mere glint, the possibility – of the unexplainable.
However, Na'Toth would not be fooled by the mere word of a Centauri, so she tested Timov's absurd story. "If this is so, then I will ask you a question that you will ask G'Kar. Ask him what happened on the 7th day of G'Quan when he was at Babylon 5."
Timov appeared to listen for several moments before replying. "I am told that this is a misleading question, for there is no such day, but G'Kar states that you need the answer to no other question than that you have already agreed to protect all that is his, even if you are no longer his watch dog."
Na'Toth gaped, her own words coming back to her.
"And he further states that he trusts you will look after Jerrica on his behalf, since she has no living Narn parents."
Na'Toth couldn't hide her shock. A part of her still did not believe. But, significantly, a part of her could not explain how Timov could know these private conversations that she had with G'Kar some years ago. She looked at Timov in silence. If he was, indeed, here, there were so many things left unsaid, mostly things about the ridiculousness of his return to Centauri Prime and his gallivanting around the galaxy when his people needed him at home – but there were other, more personal things as well. Na'Toth did not relish protecting a Centauri, but if what Timov said was true, G'Kar had not been killed in a manner that required Chon-kar. Rather, he was explicitly trying to tell her – and his followers – that whatever end he had met had not been the murder portrayed in the ISN photos. It made some sense, considering his rapport with Emperor Mollari, a rapport that she had seen firsthand in the dungeon. After all, Mollari had helped extract her from the dungeons at great risk to his own life – although, quite honestly, if he had done nothing, he would have faced the deadly wrath of G'Kar, so his actions were hardly voluntary. It would be impossible to prove what had happened in that room between them, but if . . . ." She shook her head. Trying to rationalize herself out of this situation wouldn't work at all. She applied her focus to the problem at hand. Timov was here to make amends for whatever had happened in the throne room because Narn and Centauri were dying. Even if G'Kar had been murdered, he would not want Narn dying in vain in his memory. Whatever the circumstances, the cause, she realized, was just. So, she would lend her every effort to it.
Pushing aside these thoughts, Na'Toth thought of G'Ryka and G'Kar's will. Jerrica, officially G'Ryka, had been off-world on a scheduled trip to Earth to visit her adoptive parents, but she had immediately started the return trip to Narn at the news of G'Kar's death. She was still en route and would not be back until the following day. Her late arrival would spare her from the troubled meetings of the First Circle concerning her father, but at some point, she would want to ensure her father had been properly cared for and, as always, Na'Toth was sensitive to his legacy. Addressing Timov, Na'Toth said, "I wish to ask you a personal favor." Na'Toth looked uncomfortable even saying the words.
"Whatever I can do," Timov inclined her head.
"The Kha'Ri will request the return of G'Kar's body. I know that you did not come from Centauri Prime, so you did not bring it with you, but we would like it to be repatriated."
Timov nodded her approval, "Of course, I will do everything in my power to ensure it is returned with a full honor detail."
"No," Na'Toth said firmly. "You misunderstand. G'Kar was a man of great privacy, and he shunned the attention given to him by his earnest supporters. It will cause great angst between our peoples, but I would like you to turn down the Kha'Ri's request."
Timov straightened, knowing this could cause great strife with G'Kar's fervent supporters. "And what would you have me do with his body?"
"Send it in private to me, and I will follow the wishes he gave me long ago. It will prevent his final resting place from becoming a magnet for his followers and grant his body the peace that he requested and deserves." Na'Toth looked anxiously at Timov, knowing the request would be difficult, even under ideal conditions.
Timov considered the request thoughtfully, considering her options. "May I say that his body will be disposed of in accordance with his wishes by a Narn designated by him? Anything less and we might start further riots," Timov said slowly.
"Yes," Na'Toth agreed. "This would be acceptable to me. Of course, you should not turn down the request here, it would be unsafe to do so."
"Very well," Timov made a mental note of the preparations. "You have my word that it will be done. "You will send me the details of where and when you would like his body sent."
The tension in Na'Toth's face dissipated as she nodded. "Thank you."
Londo clapped G'Kar on the shoulder, "That went well, I thought. But tell me what you have learned," he pulled G'Kar to the corner so Timov could not hear him.
G'Kar had a deeply serious glint in his eyes, "We are both aware that Timov's presence will post certain security challenges in Moktoke. The risks en route are minimal; it is the speech itself where she will be exposed to the crowd."
"I know this already, G'Kar, what did you find out?" Londo's brow furrowed.
G'Kar stared at the floor a moment before meeting Londo's eyes, "There is a cell within Moxtoke that actively and violently lobbies for Centauri blood. They are not a large cell – most of their members are known to the security forces, and Na'Toth has already coordinated with the security services to have the known members rounded up and questioned in advance of Timov's arrival. But . . . ."
"But?" Londo searched his eyes, "But what?"
"During questioning, one member indicated that there had been some plans in the works in case any prominent Centauri visited." Londo paled, but G'Kar continued, "Those plans have been effectively dismantled, but the group is not a cohesive unit. There are younger Narn recruited by word-of-mouth who are less . . . trackable. The plaza where the speech will take place will be heavily guarded, and each person will be searched, but if there was a plan in place for such an occasion already, and the mantle is taken up by one or more of these earnest but misguided youths, then there will be little way to detect them in advance. The security services suspect there may be one or more weapons hidden on the grounds. Na'Toth did everything she could to search the premises, but there is no assurance she found everything in such an expansive place, especially, as is likely, if it was a deconstructed PPG in multiple pieces that would be assembled on site."
Concern filled Londo's voice, "How serious is this threat?"
G'Kar summoned his most diplomatic tone, "It is serious enough that I am telling you about it."
Londo ground his teeth, "Well, it isn't a very concrete threat, is it? We shall have to trust the preparations are adequate."
G'Kar gestured toward Timov, "Will you tell her?"
Londo scoffed, "Tell her what? 'Narn is hardly the safest place for the Centauri Empress?' No, I'm sure Na'Toth will discuss these matters with Provi, and that is as far as it needs to go. Timov has many other things to worry about today; it will be best not to distract her. And anyway," he looked over Timov and Na'Toth, "I think that today is out of our hands and in theirs."
G'Kar agreed, reminded of how long it had been since he had seen his former aide. "I think these women may be capable of accomplishing things that we never could."
Noticing that Timov and Na'Toth had made ready to leave, the men trailed the formidable women setting off for the Capitol.
The royal entourage debarked into the hot air of Moktoke, the capitol city of Narn. The planet was doused in shades of orange and red, and a bitterly hot wind blew a layer of parched dust on everything in sight. A heavily armed security contingent fell into position around the Empress, making it hard for her to actually see any of the local sites, for tall and muscular Narn towered over her petite and gaunt figure.
Timov knew that the former agricultural planet had once been quite lush, but it had been heavily exploited for its natural resources at the hands of the Centauri. Now, the artificial weather patterns were the only intervention that could help the planet maintain what little life was left.
Timov was whisked to the foreboding and angular Capitol building where she briefly met with the leaders of the Narn Regime, including Counselor Na'Tar, who was her personal liaison for the day and who would be speaking on behalf of the Kha'Ri. Seeing the delicate condition of the Empress, Counselor Na'Tar was nonplussed, but he arranged a room where she could retire before the speeches, and he discussed other matters directly with Palco while she was resting, including the official request by the Kha'Ri to return G'Kar's body. Palco nodded agreeably, noting that the official request would need to be reviewed by the Empress, herself, at a later time. Na'Tar had received Sheridan and Delenn's independent verification of the events on Centauri Prime, and he was now satisfied the events were not as ominous as they first appeared. Now, he had to sell the same idea not only to the crowd outside but throughout the galaxy.
At the appointed hour, Timov and Counselor Na'Tar approached an exit that would allow them to walk down a short promenade to a vast but relatively insular plaza. Na'Toth's security forces had screened everyone entering, but the crowd was bursting at the plaza's seams.
Just before the party was ready to walk out and address the crowd, Londo glanced at the new handwriting Timov had scratched at the bottom of the speech while she had been waiting. His eyes widened in shock, "What is this?" he stepped in front of Timov, impeding her forward motion.
She gave him a glare, trying to step around him, but he would not allow her to pass. Finally, she turned to Na'Toth, "I'm so sorry, but would there be a ladies' room nearby?"
Na'Toth had the guards clear a nearby restroom, and Timov spun on her heel as soon as the door closed. "Londo, how can I continue this charade if you keep questioning me when I am surrounded by people?"
Londo ignored her question again pointing to the speech, "You cannot do this."
"And why not?" she demanded. "What better time than now?"
"No," his face grew firmer. "You do not understand. The political situation right now is very tense with all that has happened. The Centaurum won't stand for it. They are barely holding together, and this may rupture the remaining government completely. You may lose the people, and it could end up hurting Vir's chances for the crown." He placed a pleading hand on her wrist, "Please, it will be done one day – Vir will take care of it – when the time is right. You have no idea what may happen to the Republic's future if you foolishly decide to do this today."
"I understand perfectly well," Timov replied, her tone challenging as she shook her wrist loose from his grasp. "Three words never brought a country to its knees, and I doubt these three will start a new trend. This is exactly the right time. I have the love of the people right now as you, yourself, said yesterday – and it is well known that rulers enjoy such unity for only a short moment after the death of an emperor. The people will not challenge me at this time. More importantly, it is the right thing to do. And even if all the people cannot see that yet, they will still support me in their grief in the face of everything that has happened. We are facing the Drakh as a people, and the people will not become divided in the face of such an adversary. The Centaurum will have no choice – they will not be able to oppose a nation which supports me. And, as you say, one day could be very far off. Vir will have to work for years to find the political will within the Centaurum to support it. What better time than now? If there is any negative effects, Vir will be insulated from them because it is an action that I will take without his aid. The old guard will write it off as a grieving widow's ill-informed actions, but it will already be done. No one can undo it." She studied him curiously for a moment, "Do you disagree that it should be done in the first place?"
Londo frowned, his face growing darker, "No, I do not disagree. But, I think that . . . ."
"Good, because you," Timov cut him off, poking a finger in his chest, "personally, owe it to these people. It is a sad day that Londo Mollari would leave such responsibilities to someone else when he had a dubious hand in them. Now, the people are waiting for this address – an address I might add, that you asked me to leave my deathbed to come here and make. Will you let me go and do it already?"
Londo scowled, but he could not argue with her reasoning. He also could not help but marvel at her courage. He was sure she would take on all of Centauri Prime, if she had to, in this cause, but she was right about having won the hearts of the people at a time when the Drakh had given their people a common unity. And she was right that it was his responsibility – though she would bear it for him. It would relieve Vir of the burden, the Centaurum would not be able to oppose her authority in the matter if she had the people's support, and it would be done. It was something that should have been done long ago. "All right," he moved out of her way, having been humbled again by the small, pallid woman who stared at him with a fire and intensity he had known from no one else.
Londo followed her out, "You see what happens when a woman has the throne, even for a few days?" His tone lightened significantly as he teased her.
"Exactly," she said tersely, marching toward Counselor Na'Tar without a backward glance.
But as they reached the steps, Londo grew increasingly troubled at the sight of the crowd. Although it was filled with curious Narn, Londo could palpably feel a thinly veiled sentiment of anger and hostility running through the crowd. There was a dangerous electricity in the air, and he did not like that its sights were set squarely on Timov.
G'Kar was striding through the crowd of his countrymen. Na'Toth had security forces deposited within the crowd, and she had already been radioed several suspect conversations. There was no doubt that there were dissenters within the crowd, but how riled up they might get was anyone's guess. G'Kar could weave through the crowd with ease, listening to the murmurings of individuals with disgruntled looks. Periodically, he would turn and signal to Mollari that everything was all right.
Na'Toth was monitoring her security forces' radios. She knew the plaza was a powder keg, and if it blew, she could only contain it. She had done everything in her power in the short time she had been given to secure the area, including a search of every single individual allowed in the expansive plaza, which was now packed, and she had hand selected every guard to ensure her ability to maintain them if anything went south.
Counselor Na'Tar approached the podium first, addressing the crowd on behalf of the Kha'Ri and welcoming the Empress to the Narn homeworld. At this, there were several audible boos from the crowd, and the crowd's rancor was clearly rising. Counselor Na'Tar glanced at the security forces in case they decided to call off the event, but they were taking their cues from him, and the agent-in-charge of Kha'Ri security said nothing. Even the look on G'Kar's face was taunt as he strode through the crowd, homing in one group of particularly Luddite-looking Narn. Na'Toth had also spotted the group from her vantage point, but her radios were cutting in and out with some sort of interference, so she handed the radio to her first-in-command and headed directly for the same spot herself.
Na'Tar gritted his teeth, knowing that as soon as he spoke of G'Kar's death, there could be blood. "All of you have seen the news," he addressed the topic head on, "less than two days ago, the leaders of our two peoples died on Centauri Prime." He deliberately neglected to mention them by name, for everyone knew exactly who had died, and he did not want to infuriate the crowd further at G'Kar's name. "As you have seen on ISN, Centauri Prime has been silently infested with Drakh for some years."
"How do we know they didn't invite them?" came a cry from the crowd. Nodding heads bobbed in agreement. The restless shuffling in the crowd signaled that they were beginning to turn into a mob. Mollari stepped closer to Timov as he scanned the rising restlessness.
Counselor Na'Tar held up a hand, silencing the crowd. "The Empress of the Centauri Republic has offered to come here to set the record straight. We have reviewed not only the Centauri intelligence reports but also the reports of President Sheridan and Entil'Zha Delenn, and we can say with full confidence that the death of G'Kar was the result of the Drakh and not the Centauri." Na'Tar scanned the crowd, but they were waiting for the details, so he laid them out as they had been reported to the Kha'Ri, including reading excerpts from the reports by Sheridan and Delenn. Then, Timov read a prepared statement that reiterated the circumstances in the throne room were the fault of the Drakh infestation, and she detailed the keeper and its abilities. Withdrawing a report by Dr. Stephen Franklin, including his observations of the keeper attached to David Sheridan, she detailed the keeper's ability to take over a host's nervous system in times of great distress.
"An excuse!" came another cry from the crowd. "Centauri have always done these things – now they are just coming up with more creative excuses so they won't bear the responsibility."
G'Kar was carefully watching the Luddite group when he noticed an individual suspiciously making his way through the crowd, and G'Kar followed him noticing, almost too late, the glint of a PPG as he handed it to another Narn who had another piece of the PPG. "MOLLARI" he roared. As he did so, he saw the flash of Na'Toth diving across him, her body barreling into the horde just as the PPG fired.
Hearing G'Kar's warning, Londo's hand firmly closed on Timov's shoulder, and he dragged her downwards at the same moment a flash of light ripped through the crowd and burned the side of the podium.
Na'Toth had already wrenched the PPG from the perpetrator's hands after she had knocked him sideways, preventing him from getting a clear shot off and firing again, and her guards were closing in, but the other two Narn involved were putting up a majestic fight. After she took a brutal blow to the face, she signaled the guards to seal off the area and lock the crowd down. Narrowing her eyes, she dodged the Narn's pummeling fists and placed a vicious punch directly to the instigator's soft kidney area, bringing her attacker to his knees with one strike, and with another, she knocked him unconscious. Her guards were upon the scene in another instant, and the perpetrators were quickly dragged out of the sealed area. Any further developments were quickly quelled by the professional Narn security forces, who were well-organized and trained for just such an eventuality.
Na'Toth walked breathlessly toward the stage, looking to Counselor Na'Tar for instructions on whether he wanted the grounds cleared immediately.
Timov lay, dazed, on the ground. She was paralyzed by what had just happened, and her eyes were darting around the scene with shock.
"Timov," Londo tried to catch her attention with a gentle but firm voice, "It is all right. I pulled you down."
But the momentary adrenalin had already been replaced with the confusion around her, and she paid him no attention. The Narn guards on the stage crowded around her, forming a foreboding Narn shield, and in the plaza, Narn security forces prepared to clear the entire area.
Mollari caught the brief sight of G'Kar through the tightly packed Narn bodies as the guards closed in a horseshoe around Timov, and they exchanged glances. Both men knew that it was all slipping away – the one last, desperate attempt for peace between their peoples, torn from their grasp when it was closer than it had ever been. And this attempt on the Empress's life would fuel the deaths between their peoples, having the opposite effect than the one that they had wished to send through their efforts. Mollari had once announced, as a ploy to make good on his promise to withdraw the Centauri off of Narn, that the gods had cursed the Centauri's involvement with Narn – including Turhan's failed attempt at peace and Cartagia's death on Narn – but now it seemed that the curse was coming true, after all.
In that moment, Mollari knew he might lose everything, but the high stakes compelled him toward the desperate gambit he was about to make. He leaned close to Timov. "Are you so weak?" Mollari asked, allowing his voice to drip with disgust. At his words and tone, Timov's eyes snapped back to meet his cold gaze.
"I think I'm bleeding," she reached for her side, feeling something sticky and warm there.
Mollari's face filled with contempt, "It is a mere scratch from the podium." He gestured to the podium. "It was I who pulled you down, and you are now the embodiment of the Centauri people. Have I left the Centauri people so pathetic that they cannot stand the smallest of falls? Or is it only you?"
Timov's eyes narrowed in anger. Now, he had her full, undivided attention.
He stood up, looming over her. "You will get up," he coldly commanded, a hard look of dispassion settling over his features. "You will show the Narn such a trifle does not sway the will of the Centauri Republic, even if a fragile woman speaks for them. If you truly want peace for our people, you must seize it. No one will hold your delicate hand in this venture."
Timov's face became flushed, and anger was pulsing in her veins. She would have throttled Mollari if it were possible, but such an act would have made her look quite insane to the Narn onlookers. Furious, she got her feet under her. Provi and a nearby Narn, seeing her determination to rise, immediately assisted her to her feet.
Mollari leaned forward, whispering in her ear. "You will instruct the Counselor that the Narn security forces should not clear the plaza because you wish to finish your speech. You will pretend as if nothing has happened. And you will finish this speech, even if it kills you. And then," he pointed toward the waiting transport, "you will get on that transport, and you will go home."
Timov glanced at him again, seething. Her anger had given her tunnel vision, and in her anger, she focused on the task at hand with a furious clarity. She hurled each word through clenched teeth, "Get away from me." Provi, believing the message was for him, stepped back in a hurry, giving her space at the sound of her angry tone. Londo also stepped back, fading out of her immediate space.
G'Kar quietly appeared next to Londo, observing the scene for a moment in silence. Then, he quietly remarked, "I sometimes forget how cold-blooded you can be, Mollari." Londo said nothing. He clasped his hands behind his back, his dispassionate eyes on Timov. G'Kar noticed Mollari had perfected the dead stare of a corpse, so G'Kar left him there as he again scanned the crowd in case there were any further developments.
Beneath the mask of indifference painted on his face, Londo felt ill, but he did what he had always done – what needed to be done. It would cost him everything, but then, he had lost everything before.
Timov spun around, waiving off the doctors arriving at her side. "It is a mere scratch," she said firmly, echoing Londo's words. "We will finish what we came here to do." She turned to Counselor Na'Tar. "And we would prefer your people see that we shall not be swayed."
Counselor Na'Tar couldn't believe his ears. This little thing had just had an attempt on her life – confirmed by the burn marks on the podium and yet she was going to go on with the speech. If she wished, he would not deny this little warrior's request. Perhaps there were Centauri – a few perhaps – that had some redeemable qualities, after all.
Na'Tar signaled to the security guards to sweep the plaza again but to allow the onlookers to stay. He exchanged glances with Na'Toth, and though she was bleeding from her gums, she nodded back. The Narn at the center of the attack had been knocked unconscious and taken away as quietly as possible, and his comrades had also been arrested and removed. There was shock in the crowd, but many were eager to see what would happen next, and they could not see the damage done to the stage.
Timov inhaled, trying to breath out all the anger Londo had stirred in her. She placed a hand on her hip as if in a show of resilience, but it was an attempt to cover the pain she felt on her side. Now her focus was crystal clear. She did not care about the throbbing wetness pinched down between her fingers, in fact, she relished the stunned stares of the nearby Narn who thought she would falter after such an attempt on her life.
She stepped in front of the podium again. "This is exactly why we need peace between our peoples – because we cannot go on killing each other. Someone must stop this cycle of violence. Someone must say 'Enough.' That is why the Kha'Ri has generously allowed me to come here today. And why your own warriors have just thrown their bodies in front of deadly weapons for me. For this cause – the cause of peace where conflict has arisen as the result of a terrible misunderstanding. You know, now, the facts behind the deaths of our two leaders who were not engaged in murderous intent but, rather, in the hope that Centauri Prime would be freed from the plague that is the Drakh: the Drakh that almost destroyed Earth, that almost destroyed the Alliance, and that have decimated the lives of so many. And now they have claimed two more lives. Would you allow them to claim even more as they spread confusion and panic? We are asking, together, that you do not empower the Drakh by donating any more lives to their cause."
She bit her lip, squeezing her hip harder. She felt iron willpower propel her through her next words. "There is something else we would like to say," Timov pushed aside her prepared speech, "something that has been long overdue. G'Kar and my husband had a relationship of mutual respect, but my people have not always treated your people with the respect that a nation deserves." She felt the entire crowd inhale. "There can be no words to bring back your loved ones or return to you the years lost by the actions of my people. But we cannot forge a future if we cannot acknowledge the past. So, on behalf of the Centauri Republic, we offer our heartfelt apology for the crimes of our past against your people. It is an apology for the present misunderstanding over the gift given to us in the form of G'Kar's friendship. It is an apology for the future when you read the hateful words of misguided Centauri that cling to the past with desperation. It is an apology for all time because our people are stronger together, united in the common cause of civilization, than we are apart. We are sorry." She let the words sink in, silence having struck the crowd.
Timov licked her brittle and dry lips. "And in the spirit of our apology, we are aware that G'Kar's meditative candles still burn in his quarters in our palace. We have asked that the flame of these candles be preserved. We will transport the flame that he lit to Quadrant 14 which lies, as you know, between our home worlds and where a Narn colony was destroyed in the conflict between our people. With the Kha'Ri's permission, the Centauri Republic will build a memorial to G'Kar there in the form of an eternal flame lit by his own candle of knowledge. We have technology that can transform the disaster that is currently located in Quadrant 14 – which no longer offers any possibility of settlement – into a blue sun. A blue sun burns hotter than other suns which makes its flame delicate and easily lost. As such, natural blue suns are notoriously rare throughout the Galaxy – only a handful are known to exist, and the deepest blues are the rarest. We believe an artificial dark blue sun would stand out in the night sky of both our people's worlds not only to properly memorialize all that G'Kar has meant to the Narn and now to the Centauri, but it will serve as a symbol of his memory. This blue sun will burn as an eternal flame in recognition of past deeds that cannot be undone but will be remembered with regret and sadness, in gratitude for all the present moments granted to us, and in our hope for a future of mutual respect. He will be there, every evening when our own suns go down, visible from both Narn and Centauri Prime, to remind us that there are principles greater than us all. Principles worth dying for.
"In doing this, we outstretch our hand in friendship and hope that G'Kar's memorial will light the way in a world that often seems so empty and black, a moment of hope in a world that often takes all hope from us. We do not require a reply to our outstretched hand. It is not our place to do so. We merely offer it as a symbol of our sorrow over the past and hope that one day, we will be united as friends and mutual partners."
"And," Timov added, gathering herself, "we have signed a royal decree preserving G'Kar's quarters as he left them in our palace. They are to be kept this way into living memory, to honor his sacrifice on behalf of my own people and as a reminder of all that was done, how far we have come, and how far we have yet to go. When it is safe, which I hope will be soon, we will welcome the Narn people to Centauri Prime to visit the planet to which G'Kar often returned, for both good and ill results. And we hope that perhaps the friendship that he had with my husband will be a symbol for our people into the future and for all time. In light of this, I am today rescinding the ban on outworlders on Centauri Prime."
Timov looked up, scanning the crowd at last before she folded the speech still lying on the podium before placing it primly in her hands.
G'Kar surveyed the silent crowd. "So this is why you do not allow your women to be diplomats?" he asked, impressed. "I would not have believed it," he added. "She has brought a crowd of warriors to their knees." G'Kar shook his head, taking in the sight. "I do not know what the personal cost of today will be after your words to her, Mollari, but once, I told you that our people could never forgive your people, and . . ." he thought for a moment, still reeling at the sight. "It is possible, with the right leadership, that I was wrong, and there is hope yet. For today, at least," he poked Mollari's forearm, "for today, I think that any of these warriors would step in front of any further PPG attacks for her, so you needn't worry about her safety." But seeing Mollari's darkened expression, G'Kar stopped in his tracks. "What is it?" He glanced to where Mollari was staring, which was at Timov's side, and then he glanced back to Mollari himself. "I thought she hit the podium on her way down?"
Very slowly, Mollari met G'Kar's eyes. "She did not hit the podium."
G'Kar shook his head in confusion, "But you said it was a scratch?"
"It is not a scratch," Mollari said slowly, with weight.
G'Kar's eyes widened when he understood Mollari's meaning. "She needs a doctor," he hissed.
"Yes," Mollari replied grimly. "And yet, she has sent her personal physician away. I know there are no Narn doctors in the Capitol of Centauri Prime. Would you have Centauri doctors in Moxtoke? I would imagine not. So . . ." Mollari continued his dead stare, "that is where we stand."
As seriousness hardened his features, Mollari glanced past G'Kar at the crowd, and his face paled. "No, it can't be!" He pushed past G'Kar, positive that he had seen a certain wisp of a woman disappearing through the crowd. And he stood there contemplating what it was like to stand on the brink of a terrible cliff that would take everything from him, again.