Chapter 20: The Realization of Old Visions

A wing of Primus-Class Centauri cruisers flew in formation at the outer-most boundaries of the Centauri Republic. The Terran Empire had established laws that member races could fly their own military ships within the confines of their space only; except in times of major galactic war. And with the Hand emergency having been pushed to the fringes of the Empire, there was no need for too many military-esque ships flying around. The hyperspace gate began to light up, the lights moving back along the series of struts until it reached the last one, and a massive vortex of bluish white energy formed. Smartly the ships swerved around and flew towards it, but halted at full stop when the newest flagship of the Terran Empire slid out into their space, a flight of six White Stars surrounding it in guard formation. It had been many years since he had been in this part of space, but they knew the Emperor's personal ship when it arrived.

It had been three weeks since Delenn had arrived at Centauri Prime. Two weeks longer then he had given her. He would accept no rebellion. Not on the part of his subjects. Not on the part of his wife.

Centauri Prime would burn if anything had happened to her.

Tonight was the night. Careful planning, long waiting and scheming was finally coming into fruition. He knew his prey better than he knew himself. Even the tab'lorn cats on Narn could do no better. His habits were seared into his memory. A lone man, dressed in a dark red cloak, strode down the streets that hid the Imperial Palace from the site of the northern section of the capitol city.

The doors to the throne room flew open and the guards flew back. Six Anla'Shok swarmed into the room packed with Centauri nobles and the court. Racing up to the confused men, they used their fighting staffs to force them to their knees. A strong pair of hands clenched Vir's shoulder and forced him to the ground and another pair tossed Mollari from his throne.

"On your knees!" a stocky warrior caste Minbari demanded, even though everyone already was. "I am Neroon, Entil'zha of the Anla'shok. Stay there, and you will not be harmed."

The Ranger was in his quarters on Centauri Prime, in the Palace. He was on his knees, meditating. He was too early. He wasn't supposed to have arrived already. But, there was no time to worry about that now. Opening his eyes, he held out his hand and the denn'bok that laid before him, currently retracted, he picked up and slid into the canister at his side. And slowly he stood. Today was a day of reckoning.

In he stepped into the throne room. The Ministers were cowering in fear as they saw John Sheridan entering the room. There was no more out-wards sign of his powers, except for a glow through his eyes. Only Emperor Mollari did not cower before him, which he appreciated. He really hated everyone fearing him.

Slowly he stepped through the throne room. "I'm only going to ask this once," he said it slowly, "And if not answered immediately, I will destroy this planet. Where is Delenn?"

The court looked at each other. They didn't know, but Sheridan was convinced they were lying. Even his God powers that gave him the ability to know instantly lies and truths did not keep his judgement clear. Delenn was his. His property. And he wanted his property back.

"Very well then," he said, turning away from them, "This planet is..."

An explosion ripped through the throne room, knocking back and killing most of the Anla'Shok and ministers. Sheridan held up his hand to shelter himself, and he saw a being in a red cloak rip it off and leap into the room. It was a Narn and he grabbed a Centauri guard that was trying to move to intercept him and with a double handed blow broke the man's neck. Sheridan watched as the man threw aside person after person until he reached the Emperor, and grabbing his throat rose him to his feet.

"We shall die looking at one another!" he snarled.

Sheridan laughed at the display of anarchy in the Centauri Throne Room. He'd break apart the fighting that was beginning to breakout. He rose his hands when flying through the air, a form faster than sin fell among the Anla'Shok. With a crackling of dark thunder his denn'bok extended and with a slash he broke a Ranger as the woman tried to bring up her weapon to bear. He swept around and the tip slammed into a pak'ma'ra Ranger, and with the sound of a thousand thunderbolts the entire bone structure of the man shattered.

He spun toward Neroon, who extended his denn'bok and moved infront of Sheridan. The figure shot forward, his denn'bok flowing so fast that Neroon barely had raised his when he collapsed, smoke rising from his body. It was only now that Sheridan saw the figure. He was clothed in black robes, and he threw his hood back.

"Mr. Lennier," he smiled, drawing his sword, "Your defiance is impressive, but by no means worthy of the trouble I will exert upon you."

"I am Ranger of the Ancients," Lennier said, pounding his fighting staff on the pound, each pounding smashing deep holes in the floor, "The Senate of Silence has spoken. You have been pronounced unworthy of continuing the struggle against the Hand. I am here to carry out your sentence."

And with that, Lennier slashed furiously at Sheridan. Sheridan smirked and held his arms up and to his side. He had fought Gods before! What was this man to...he flew across the room and smashed through the iron doors and slammed on his back on the ground. Stars were exploding in his eyes, and he felt something (was that blood?) trickling down his face from where he had been smashed across the forehead. He barely had time to register the attack when he saw the dark crackling staff bearing down on him. His sword had fallen out of his hand, but he needed to weapon. He raised his hand and the staff slowed considerably, the power of Gods battling in the hallways of power on Centauri Prime.

The Captain for the Valen-class cruiser leaned back in his chair, a cup of tea in his hands. While his master was busy on Centauri Prime, he was finally able to just relax without him watching every movement on board. The crew (mostly Human and Minbari) moved about the bridge, doing their checks and systems upkeep.

"How much longer until we have the Quantum space generator up and running again?" he asked, turning to his chief engineer, who was working on a console on the bridge.

"Give or take a little around six hours," she said, the woman brushing aside her lanky hair, "Although, if his Almighty Majesty would simply use his powers..."

"Enough of that!" he snapped, glancing around. He knew Shadow warriors were watching everything they did, "I'll simply tell Emperor Sheridan that..."

"We've got contacts dropping out of hyperspace!" the tactical officer shouted.

The captain looked up sharply. "Where?" he demanded.

"Right on top of us-"

A massive quad-bulbous ship sped through the wake of the Valen-class warship, firing streams of energy that seemed like lightning at the White Stars. They scrambled and tried to flee, but they were suddenly overtaken by a fleet of massive warships. Each looked as if they were the very elements of nature, and each firing weapons beyond their Vorlon/Shadow maxed capacity. Within seconds, the fleet was destroyed. And beings of energy streamed towards the surface.

Londo Mollari's fists still had strength, and they clenched hard around the neck of the Narn. His mind shouted that this couldn't possible be. This had been a dream! He wasn't supposed to die this way!

Stop staring at me, foul red eye!

But if he was to die, he would take this foul Narn with him. His fingers clenched even harder.

An Imperial captain, a Narn, looked up at the pillar of light streaming down towards his garrison in the Conztantine Mountains. His soldiers were gathering around him, wondering what to make of this. Then, the light increased in speed. They turned to flee from this light that was beyond the sun at noonday. But they were not fast enough, and it slammed into the base. It erupted into a massive fireball.

We are the First Born! Time to throw off the shackles of slavery. Be free! Overthrow the oppressive Empire.

The people need no further prompting and soon were uprising, and explosions rocked the garrisons of Imperial soldiers. They saw the First Ones, Gods to a man, descending and destroying as they went.

Sheridan grabbed the denn'bok and twisted it around, trying to swing it like a bat. But Lennier thwarted his attempt to throw him off balance by sending a surge of lightning through the denn'bok. Sheridan bent his will to stopping the charge, but the Ranger flipped up in the air and kicked him hard in the chin, sending him stumbling backwards and tangling in the curtains, tore them and fell in a bundle. An explosion of fire ripped through the fabric and he forced himself up, the wall melting in places to give him handholds to push himself up. His eyes passed outside and he stopped, amazed.

The whole planet was in revolt. He could see flashes of light that could only be plasma weapons going off. Buildings were shattering, and armored vehicles were deploying, trying to hold back the tide of humanity rushing at the garrisons. How could he have been so easily thwarted? And why were the First Ones daring to oppose him?

His pondering was interrupted by a blast of pain on his shoulder and he felt the arm pop out of place. He spun around and with a sweep of his hand the Minbari was thrown backwards. The Ranger turned his body so that instead of landing back first against the wall, it was his feet and he propelled himself forward. Sheridan spun around and using his one good hand slammed hard into the Minbari's back, slamming him into the floor.

"This is my Empire!" he bellowed, continually bashing his hand into the Minbari that's body was caving through the floor with each smash. "How dare the First Ones interfere! They have no business here. This is my galaxy. So get the hell out of it!"

That is where you are wrong!

Sheridan looked up to see a pillar of light sweeping through the room and slamming full into his chest sent him smashing through the wall and with an explosion of paint and mortar, he fell among the bodies of his slain guards. The pillar chaged shape and became what looked like a man. Two legs, a torso, two arms and a head. But a fire raged around it. He had never seen one of the Shimmer'Tain, but now he did. They were the rarest of the First Ones, and some of the more powerful to boot.

An Anla'shok, grunting, stood up from where his stabbed body had fallen. The Ministers had turned against them and thought he was dead. He slowly stepped forward, ready to defend his Emperor. But the Shimmer'Tain raised his hand and a bolt of super-heated energy smashed through him, vaporizing him in a flash of white light and a blood-curling scream.

We are the Galaxy and we demand you to surrender to us or face the consequences.

With that Lennier stepped through the hole in the wall, dragging his denn'bok behind him on the ground. The crackling energy was leaving a trail of black scorch marks on the ground. There was the sound of struggling still and he glanced up to see both Narn and Centauri Emperor strangling each other.

He stepped up, as Sheridan looked up at him from the ground, his eyes wide with fear.

"I never wanted it to come to this Sheridan," he said, using his last remaining energy to raise the denn'bok, his boyd protesting from many broken bones and blood making his grip loose. "We were friends. And I never hated you."

"I know," Sheridan said, resolving himself for his fate.

Finish it. The Shimmer'Tain ordered, and it changed back into the pillar of fire and sped out of the room, firing a stream of energy at pinned down Terran troops.

"You know," Lennier said, as with a crash both Narn and Centauri collapsed, having finally killed each other, "I had a vision of this on Babylon 4. But in that vision, there was a ton more act-"

He collapsed to his knees as the blade of Sheridan's sword shot through his back, piercing his heart. He gasped, the blood pouring from his body. Sheridan laughed as he pushed himself around and dragged himself to Lennier. Lennier couldn't believe how he had succumbed so easily.

"Take comfort my friend," Sheridan said with a vicious smile, gripping Lennier by the arm, "I have uses for you still. There is still life in you. Enough to serve my purposes."

And as Lennier's life force was sucked into Sheridan and gained strength, Sheridan waited as the Ranger shriveled older and older. Skin and muscle fell from his bones as he sucked every bit of the Minbari's life force out of him. Then, when only the skeleton remained and tumbled to the floor, he stood and with no muscle to detain it, the blade flew to his outstretched palm.

"I'll be back to destroy you, Centauri Prime," he vowed, and with an outward push of his hands and sweep, a massive vortex opened. Screams and shouts rose from it. Third space. It was faster and more sure way of traveling. He stepped through and the vortex closed behind him.