Note: This is the midway point of this book.
Chapter 25: Here Comes the Inquisitor
"We will be moving out at the end of the week," Sinclair said, "It's mid-June and I feel our time is about up."
"Agreed," Sheridan said, his heels raised up and on the desk.
"Do you mind?" Sinclair asked, looking annoyingly at his feet.
"I don't mind," Sheridan grinned back at him.
Sinclair rolled his eyes. It had been a very long day and he was ready to go to bed. "Alert Garibaldi that we might enter a furball as we try to pull away."
"That'll please him," Sheridan rolled his eyes, "He's being chomping at the bit to show us how good his seventy-man team is."
There was a knock at the side of the door and they turned to see Delenn enter the room. And following her was Kosh. The look in Delenn's eyes were that of concern.
"John?" she asked, "Can I speak with you a moment?"
"Of course," he said, feeling his heart skip a beat. Man, how lovely a woman she was. "What is it?"
"Kosh is having a visitor come here to...visit with me and you," she informed him.
"And who will be visiting us?" Sheridan asked, suspicion growing.
-An Inquisitor- Kosh said.
They heard a sharp intake of breath and Sheridan looked over at Lennier, who was looking with an expression akin to fear. If Lennier, who was among the most steadfast people Sheridan knew reacted that way, it was not a good sign.
"Why?" Sinclair asked, "What do you need?"
-We need to be sure.-
"Who are we?" Sheridan asked, standing up "And what do you need to be sure of?"
-You- Kosh's eyestalk turned to him and then turning to Delenn -And you.-
"Why?" Sinclair asked, "What do you need to be sure of?"
Delenn was the one that answered. "As we are to lead the fight against the Shadows," she explained, moving up to Sheridan and taking his hands in hers, "They need to make sure that the choice is correct. That we are supposed to do this thing."
"Why not me?" Sinclair asked, standing up himself, "Am I not a leader in this fight?"
-This is not your time- Kosh said. -It is theirs.-
Sheridan looked into Delenn's green eyes and saw the fear and trust. Yes, she was afraid of what could happen. But, she trusted Kosh enough to believe. And he trusted her.
"Fine," he said, "When will he be here?"
-Within the hour.-
They went to an abandoned room in one of the more least visited parts of the station. Neither of them had been visited by any temporal flashes, but as they walked they were deep in thought. What was this to be done? What could possibly be in store. They arrived at an open hatch way and a voice spoke out, in a crisp and precise voice, "Just her."
"Who are you?" Sheridan demanded.
"Who I am is not in question here," the voice replied from the room beyond, "Now Delenn shall come in alone."
"Not until I know who you are!" Sheridan snorted.
"Will it allow me to pursue my Lords work if I give you the name?" the voice asked, a hint of amusement in it.
"I'll be willing to allow it," Sheridan said, looking defiantly at the open doorway.
"My name is Sebastian."
Delenn entered the room. Alone she walked and as soon as she had passed out of reach of the hatch it slammed shut and locked itself. She glanced around and pipes and metallic framework surrounded here, the gentle whirling of large fans thumping in the air.
"Step into the light," the voice commanded and she looked at a pillar of light that shone down upon the center of the room. Slowly she walked, her heart racing as she was getting closer and closer to it.
She stepped inside and circular ringlets slid across the floor and stopped inches from her feet.
"The manacles were made for you," the voice said, "Now slip them on and there they shall remain. You can remove them at any time, but it will automatically be a forfeit and admission that you are not worthy to carry out the cause of the Lords of Order."
She knelt down and picking up the cold metal slid one down onto her arms. They were not made to be discomforting, but they contracted ever so slightly until they wouldn't slip off...unless she took them off. She slowly stood back up.
There was a sound of tapping. Measured tapping. Footstep, tap, footstep, footstep, tap. And she could see in the haze a small man with an antiquated outfit stepping forward. He wore a strange hat with a high top. A vest that was fitted. Black shiny shoes. In his hands was a walking cane, with the silver head in the shape of a roaring lion. And a face of stone.
"Who are you?" he asked, walking around her, like a man calculating the worth of meat.
"I am Delenn," she replied.
"Wrong answer," he said, "I already know your name. Who are you?"
"Delenn," she repeated, a little confused.
Sebastian raised his walking cane and slammed the tip into the ground. Electricity shot through the manacles and she gasped in the tingling sensation that shot through her wrists. She looked over, and there was no satisfaction in his face. But his eyebrow's furrowed ever so slightly.
"Repeat a wrong answer and you shall be punished," he said, "Who are you?"
"I am the Family Mir," she replied.
"Who are you?"
"I am Satai of the Grey Council."
"Who are you?"
"I am Minbari."
"Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!"
With each 'wrong' he struck the ground and she gasped as the pain increased ever so slightly. He was walking around her, a small smile spreading across his face.
"Is there nothing of you?" he asked, "Or is the only thing you are is what people give you? You can't even answer a question as simple as this without falling back on genealogies, titles and race. The trappings of power and groupial singularities."
"What do you want?" she asked in growing fear.
The cane struck the ground again and the pain increased and she nearly dropped to her knees. "Never ask that question," he said coldly, "That question is that of the servants of Chaos. The worshippers of Shadows. Do you worship the Shadows?"
"Of course not," she snapped, "How can you ask that?"
"Ah!" he smiled, "We have gotten to something you are not. You are not a Shadow worshipper. Who are you?"
"Who are you?"
"Who are you?"
"Who are you?"
"I am Delenn!" she shouted, "That's who I am!"
"Wrong!" Sebastian replied, and the pain shot through her wrists again, "Let try this then. Why are you here?"
"Here?" she asked.
"Here and now," he pressed.
"I was summoned," she replied, confused at the question.
Sebastian closed his eyes in annoyance. "You answered the wrong question," he spat, "Why are you here in this life?"
"I was meant to be here," she replied.
"So the Universe placed you here?" he asked, "It has a plan for you?"
"It has a plan for everyone."
"How can you be sure?" he inquired.
"I don't know," she said, "I just am."
"Then you can't be sure."
"I can be sure."
"But you just said you don't know."
"But I believe!" she snapped.
"And that belief makes you right?" he sarcastically asked.
"Yes it does," she defiantly replied.
"And if the world says no?"
"Then it is wrong!"
"But what if the world is right and you are wrong?" he questioned, "Have you ever considered that? Well, have you?"
"Yes," she took a deep breath, "But my faith sustains me. It's in those hours that the faith sustains me. What faith do you have?"
"What?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
"People like you only thrive to tell people that they are not worthwhile," she snapped, "Who are you to do such things? By what right? You believe in nothing because nothing believes in you. You've had dreams of greatness, only to find those dreams turned to ash!"
"Am I a destroyer of dreams?" Sebastian asked, a cold fire rising in his eyes, "Or am I a protector of the public good?"
"I might not know who I am," Delenn smiled, "But I know who you are?"
"And what am I?"
"You are nothing."
Sebastian's eyebrows furrowed and his eyes darkened. "Who are you?" he demanded, "Are you the Chosen One? If you are the Universe will hear you! Cry out. Cry out!"
The handle began to glow with a white fire that grew and raising it up, twisted his hands around it. Delenn arose from the ground, screaming. Lightning wreathed around her.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. And then, after nearly a minute passed, the lightning ceased and she fell to the ground, twitching. And Sebastian tapped nearer and nearer.
"Do you hear anything?" he whispered, "No. A silence as profound as when the whale swallowed Jonah. Who are you?"
"I-I-"
The door hatch flew open and Sheridan stumbled inside, as if a hand had pushed him inside. Sebastian turned to him and smiled. Sheridan looked down at Delenn, twitching on the ground.
"And the third person in our little choir," he smiled, "Who are you?"
"What have you done to her?" Sheridan snarled and began to pull out his PPG.
"I wouldn't," Sebastian smiled, holding up his hand in a cup, "I hold Delenn's heart in my hand. I can feel her heart beating. If I squeeze, like so, I can stop her heart."
As he squeezed his hands ever so slightly, Delenn began gasping for air and coughing. Her hands flew to her chest. Sheridan dropped the PPG and Sebastian opened his hand entirely, and Delenn began to breathe easier.
"Who are you?"
Sebastian had been a crusader on the holy cause of truth. Corruption had wracked London and he had taken it upon himself to cleanse the world. He had hunted down prostitutes, killing them one by one on the West End. He had been a surgeon that had taken it upon himself to clean the world.
"Leather Apron" and "The Whitechapel Murderer" were two monikers he had been given. But, he would be exalted once London was cleansed. But one night, as he was walking home from the tenth murder, he had been taken by a ball of light. He had been taken by the Vorlons and they had shown him the error in his ways.
And now, in their holy cause, he inflicted torture on those who proclaimed themselves to be holy and in the cause of Order. How many had been defiant like Sheridan and Delenn? How many had fallen before his scythe? Hundreds? Thousands?
He was not just any Vorlon Inquisitor. He was the mightiest of them. He made even the Vorlons pause in fear. All other Inquisitors were subject and nothing to him.
He struck Sheridan on the ground with the power of his staff. Again. And again. And again. He would be broken.
"Stop!" Delenn screamed, dragging herself across the floor, "Your quarrel is with me!"
"You?" Sebastian laughed, "What is he to you?"
"That is none of your concern," she snapped, "Take me, but let him go."
"Are you not chosen?" he asked, looking calmly at her, "Are you not to lead armies to victory? Is not your death to be sung for all to hear? Would you die here, and alone? For one man?"
"One life or a million it does not matter!" she snarled.
"But your holy cause?" he raised an eyebrow.
"This is my cause!" she spat defiantly, "Life! All life is sacred! I would die even for you if I had to!"
Sebastian smiled and with a flick of his fingers her manacles fell. And a small laugh escaped him.
"You pass the test," he said, "The true test is are you willing to die for one another. And you both would. Take solace in this: you are the right people, in the right place, at the right time."
He lifted his hat to them and left, leaving Sheridan and Delenn to painfully pick themselves off the floor.