X-Over: Clues to the identity of the raiders in Federation space are in the first chapter.
Bolo: Kirk may not like it, but he accepted the fact that the Preservers had been messing around with Earth and humans.
Aaron and Gyre: RAFO (Read And Find Out)
eddys: I apologize for the speed of my story. I'm not yet as skilled as AlbertG.
Enjoy this chapter!
The Game of Houses: Name given the scheming, plots, and manipulations for advantage by noble Houses. Great value is given to subtlety, to aiming at one thing while seeming to aim at another, and to achieving ends with the least visible effort. Also known as the Great Game...
—Glossary in The Shadow Rising by Robert Jordan,
Book 4 of the Wheel of Time series.
Royal Palace, Imperial City, Centauri Prime
Ambassador Londo Mollari entered the Grand Hall of the Royal Court through the entrance grandly known as the Sublime Porte. He'd been told by Virini, the Minister of Protocol, that he was to meet the new Emperor before meeting Lord Refa. A last minute change of plans.
He didn't know what caused the change in plans. He didn't like it. Not one bit. It was the Great Game, the Game of Houses, as surely as he was breathing the air of Imperial City, capital of Centauri Prime.
Lords and ladies milled around in the Royal Court. The great throne itself was empty in its alcove although Londo could catch a few lords casting covetous eyes on it. Two of the Emperor's Own flanked the throne, female communication-telepaths totally covered in a gauzy white veil. Even though the Emperor wasn't present, his eyes were present.
Ornamental semi-precious purple stone columns led his eyes up to the wide arches which supported the great central dome from which hung huge chandeliers made with gemstones instead of crystal. Stained-glass windows at the base of the dome made the dome look as if it was hanging from a string tied to a finger of the Great Maker. Colored marble blocks made up the walls, cut so carefully that the grains of the marble flowed into each other like incense smoke. Great crests of hair on the lords competed for space with the billowing dresses of the bald ladies of the Court, almost completely covering the floor which was made with volcanic black obsidian. Most were cordial enough with each other, but Londo knew that at any moment's notice, poison might slip into a lord's glass of brivari or a lady might invite someone into bed only to insert a dagger instead of being inserted herself. Soft gentle music floated down from the orchestra in the gallery above the Sublime Porte.
He knew that his ex-wives Mariel and Daggair would thrive in this environment. He finally caught sight of Lord Antono Refa playing words with several lords beside his wife, the Lady Celes Refa. Londo'd never forgiven him for the death of his dear friend Urza Jaddo in spite of the power that House Mollari inherited from House Jaddo in a morago.
Londo boldly strode through the noble crowd towards the door behind the throne, occasionally greeting a lord here and smiling charmingly at a lady there. He was also told by Minister Virini that the Emperor would be waiting behind that door. He hoped that Refa wouldn't catch sight of Ambassador Mollari.
Too bad the Great Maker didn't bless him in this instance. Lady Celes saw him and intercepted him and called on her husband to attend to the visiting ambassador.
"Londo!" Refa called intimately, as if they were dear friends. Refa held Londo's wrists with both of his hands as other lords and ladies studiously cast their eyes elsewhere, but surely watching as if their eyes were rudely staring straight at the two of them.
Londo merely looked at his inimical ally. An equal to an equal.
Refa grinned. He also knew that his House was House Mollari's equal. So far. "So, Londo, finally meeting the new Emperor, yes?"
Londo waved dismissively. "I have met Cartagia three times before."
Mischievous delight shone in Refa's eyes. "And what was your impression of the young man on our throne, hmmm?"
Londo knew that Refa was trying to get him to talk himself to the headsman's block. True, any word that is considered treasonous in the Royal Court meant the headsman's ax. He didn't care. The Emperor was young, still new on his throne, and under the thumb of House Refa. And Refa knew that Londo had a hold on the head of House Refa.
"Oh, I've met him twice when he was an infant. He drooled most of the time. I wonder if he still has the habit. And once when he was 15, trying to peek up the dresses of some young women. I promise you, Refa, I will be just as impressed now as I was then."
Lady Celes tittered behind her lace fan, glancing at her husband. Refa put on a false ponderous look, nodding gravely. Celes took that as a signal. She closed her fan and turned to Londo.
"Oh Ambassador, you have some experience of alien cultures, I'm sure?"
Londo quirked an eyebrow at Lady Celes. What was she on about? "Yes, I suppose."
Celes opened a small purse hanging at the bottom of her bodice and pulled out a crystalline figurine. Londo recognized it as Minbari. Celes held up the figurine close to Londo. "A servant of mine found this on a border world. It's Minbari, is it not?" She tittered again. "The silly headbone gave that away, of course. I'm thinking of making a gift of this for a friend of mine. But Lady Drusella always wants to know all the stories of any gift she gets." Celes batted her eyelashes at the ambassador. "With your close contact with the Minbari, you know the story of this statue, surely?"
Londo raised his eyebrows idly. He knew that Celes and Refa were trying to make him late for his appointment with the Emperor and ruin his first impression for the royal eyes. He tried to excuse himself. "Oh, my dear Lady Celes, I am clumsy about such things. I care only about things Centauri."
"Please, Ambassador. Just look. Anything would please me." Celes gazed closely into Londo's eyes. "Anything at all."
Londo sighed and took the crystal statue from Celes. He brought it close to his eyes. It was indeed beautiful. Too bad he did not care about such foreign things, especially in the hands of enemies. The statue slipped from his fingers to shatter most satisfyingly on the obsidian floor of the Royal Court. The light refracted by the crystalline shards made the black obsidian floor glitter with golden spark-like specks.
"See? I am so clumsy about such things." Londo bowed apologetically and left Lady Celes fuming. Refa plucked a glass of brivari from a passing servant and ponderously peered at Londo's retreating back.
Upon entering the Imperial office-cum-wardrobe behind the throne, Londo could see the new Emperor, Narleeth Cartagia Jarn, himself.
Cartagia was a handsome young man, but a man Londo might see in any of the nightclubs attended by young aristocrats on any of the core Centauri worlds. His hair was made into a crest much shorter than Londo's. The ambassador was horrified. It meant Londo, a mere lord and ambassador, held a much higher rank than the Emperor himself! Scandalous! It was an insult to the standing of House Kasto, the esteemed family of Cartagia and the late Turhan. The only sign of Cartagia's imperial status was his white clothes with gold embroideries and the golden medallion which was the Great Royal Seal of the Great Centauri Republic. Somehow, this young man even made those seem irreverent. The Emperor's shirt was open, allowing the Seal to lie among his chest hair under the red scarf tied about his neck.
Londo had to keep himself from gasping in horror at the spectacle.
"Ah! Londo, is it? Much has been said about you. Poor dear Uncle Turhan and Lord Refa, yes." Cartagia's eyes were over-merry and his lips curled in a half-demented smirk as he laughed. He held out his arms to the ambassador. "The architect of Our future victory!"
Londo stepped forward and bowed low to get close enough to smell the Emperor who was flanked by the other two veiled telepathic women of the Emperor's Own. The things he'd stoop to do for his beloved Republic! He couldn't smell any brivari on the young man.
He wasn't drunk! He was giddy with the false power of the throne.
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"Your impression of our illustrious sovereign, it is still the same?" Refa was smirking.
"No.... It's worse." Londo emptied another glass of brivari. "If we kill each other, the Republic wouldn't survive this emperor."
Refa chuckled. "Oh Cartagia's a fool. Easily manageable." And easy to make way for a new emperor. Emperor Refa, Antono Refa thought. He liked the sound of that.
Londo grabbed another bottle of brivari and poured into his glass. The curtains were drawn over the windows of Refa's suite. One Royal Guard stood at the entrance. The ambassador stepped close to Refa. "What did he mean that I'm...the 'architect' of our future victory?"
Refa chuckled again. "The war with the Narn is about to end. Much sooner than we thought. Come, Londo! Destiny awaits! Your hand shall reach out and end the war."
Londo covered up his startled horror with an expression of relief and looked up from his glass at Refa. Refa's words brought back the memory of the technomage Elric's words.
"As I look at you, Ambassador Mollari, I see a great hand reaching out of the stars. The hand is your hand. And I hear sounds. The sounds of billions of people calling your name."
"My followers?"
"Your victims."
Babylon 5
McCoy stared unbelievingly.
T'Sara was lying dutifully on a biobed in the Enterprise's Sickbay. The bioreader showed that her mind endured rough treatment.
The Geneva Conventions may be a thing of the 20th and 21st century, but the Federation adopted that into interstellar law. If this Earth Alliance had the same history as his Earth, it should have the Geneva Conventions within itself!
That was concerning only the prisoner, T'Sara. He didn't want to think about the outrage of the Earth betrayal and violation of the Hakudo Maru. He glanced over at Kirk.
Kirk was pacing around Sickbay. He couldn't believe the audacity of EarthForce in trying to hijack an alien research ship. To screw a potential First Contact this much is...is....
"It's too much! It's an act of war! If EarthForce was always like this, no wonder the Minbari tried to destroy them!" Kirk wasn't sure if the Terran Empire stabbed more backs than EarthForce and PsiCorps together. At least the Imperial Starfleet was honest about its backstabbing ways.
"And we're alone..." continued Kirk. "Alone...and we can't do a thing about it." It was his greatest fear: loss of control over any situation and being alone. The Enterprise alone cannot fight both the Centauri Republic and the Earth Alliance. "Betrayed.... Alone! Alone...."
"Jim."
It was Spock gazing calmly at Kirk.
Kirk looked back at Spock. That single word from the Vulcan man calmed him, forcing him to realize it was ridiculous to get hysterical. Still...what could he do?
Kirk searched Spock's face. "Captain Sheridan?" He liked Sheridan. He recognized something of himself in the EarthForce captain.
Spock knew what he was asking about. "This incident is regrettable. The captain is a member of EarthForce and it is precisely for that reason we can no longer afford to trust John Sheridan."
Kirk gaped and glanced at McCoy. He still couldn't believe this. This reality's Earth is not his Earth, but still...going against Earth is like betraying his own homeworld and people. Even though the Federation and Starfleet Command didn't exist on this Earth, Kirk couldn't help feeling like he would be committing high treason if he goes against the Earth Alliance. Earth against Earth. What kind of war would this be? A civil war? They need help. And lots of money. A cashless economy may be very well for the Federation, but it wouldn't do to be so poor in this universe. He'll need Gillian Taylor's help in that area.
The Centauri were probably on the lookout for him, and the Earth Alliance has betrayed them...they were fast running out of potential allies. The Minbari were too iffy and the Vorlons were too unknown. Perhaps the League of Non-Aligned Worlds? At least one League world already owed them a huge favor.
It was time to cash in some favors.
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Kirk walked down a corridor in Babyon 5's Green Sector with Dr. Gillian Taylor who was taking in as much as she could. While not as advanced, fluid or bright as a Federation Trojan-class starbase, the place impressed him. The space station was an attempt to be a forum of diplomatic intercourse between alien species and worlds, just as the United Nations was an attempt to keep order and peace among the ancient nation-states. His own Federation came into being mainly because of political and military cooperation among alien worlds in the face of the Earth-Romulan War. This quantum reality also had wars, but apparently, they didn't have a war that threatened to conquer many worlds at once and force these worlds into alliances.
Oh, he'd read about the Dilgar War and the Earth-Minbari War. The Dilgar, while terrible, were crushed by the might of EarthForce within a year. The Earth-Minbari War...there's a terrible tragedy of a mistake if ever he'd heard one. The Minbari focused only on the Earth Alliance so there weren't any interplanetary alliances. The Minbari were simply too powerful, but if they turned their military might on other worlds, something like the Federation might be made among those worlds. Too bad the Earth Alliance proved less than trustworthy.
The closest in this universe to his Federation was the League of Non-Aligned Worlds. His yearning for the Federation was causing him to think deeply about the League. That was part of the reason for his going to the ambassadorial suites.
"Captain! Excuse me, Captain Kirk!"
Kirk turned around at the voice behind him. Gillian almost gasped at the sight. An alien dressed in what appeared to be a militant formal dress approached him. He reminded him of Klingons. Kirk wasn't sure if the alien was reptilian or something else entirely. What species was he? A...a Narn. The Narn inclined his head respectfully to Gillian.
"Captain Kirk.... I'm Ambassador G'Kar of the Narn Regime."
Kirk knew that his people, the Narn, were at war with the Centauri. He nodded for G'Kar to continue.
"Captain Kirk, I...my people needs help with the Centauri...." G'Kar stopped at Kirk raising his hand to halt the Narn ambassador's words.
"I'm aware of your war. I'm sorry...I cannot involve myself or my crew in your war."
G'Kar sputtered. "But...but you're at war with the Centauri! You've defeated two of their warships single-handedly already! And...and your ship shows some obvious Vree design. Surely, you've heard of the outrageous Centauri attack on the Gliese 86 Outpost?"
Gillian glanced at the Starfleet captain beside her. Kirk frowned. Where did the Narn ambassador hear about that? "Ambassador, my ship is not Vree, nor is it free for any mercenary work. The fight was a...unfortunate incident, but the Centauri has not declared war on me yet."
The Narn wagged a finger at the Federation starship captain. "Mark my words, Kirk.... The Centauri will not tolerate such an affront for long." G'Kar sighed and looked like the world was weighing down on him. It was hard to admit anything so difficult to a non-Narn. "The war is not going well. We've lost 30 years worth of territories. You won't help at all? My government and people would be eternally grateful no matter the result."
Kirk stared at G'Kar grimly. "I am sorry. I must follow the Prime Directive of my government and Starfleet. A non-interference directive. Even if I could, I'm only one ship against entire fleets, an entire empire. I may be a gambler of my fate, but those odds are not good. Didn't you try to negotiate for a cease-fire? Sue for peace?"
G'Kar was disappointedly shaking his head. "The Centauri won't accept anything less than unconditional surrender or complete conquest. You could...merely visit my homeworld. Just for a day. If the Centauri happen to shoot, all you have to do is defend yourself."
Seeing Kirk's negative expression, G'Kar sighed. "If you won't go, couldn't you at least...sell your shield technology?"
Kirk was surprised. G'Kar smiled. "Do you think we don't have spies among our enemies?"
"Ambassador, my Prime Directive also forbids the sale of any technology to anyone without the approval of Starfleet Command and the Federation Council."
G'Kar was outraged. "Don't be absurd! You're alone here! You don't have your superior commanders or your government!" He forced himself to calm down. It wouldn't do to drive away a potential ally. "Captain, I know your ship is in need of completing repairs...and I understand that you don't have any money. My government is prepared to pay an extremely generous amount of money for whatever material you need, provided you help with our defense. Any amount of money you need."
Gillian gasped and widened her eyes and turned to Kirk, using her facial expression to insist he accept. Kirk felt pained. He could sympathize with G'Kar even though the Federation had never experienced such a war. He couldn't say that he wasn't tempted by the offer of money and material for his stranded crew. He knew that he might feel differently if war with the Klingons occurred without Organian interference. But he must keep his Federation-ness by holding to the Prime Directive. The Enterprise was only one starship alone in the night.
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G'Kar entered his quarters and saw Warleader G'Sten still anxiously waiting. Seeing G'Kar's expression, G'Sten proudly, but grimly, crossed his arms to his chest and bowed. "So. We are still alone. The attack on Gorash 7 goes on."
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Gillian was feeling a little overwhelmed. So much of the space station reminded her of the old United States. They were at Babylon 5 for only a few days and already, they were deeply involved with the local interstellar politics. She looked at Kirk as they walked in tense silence. While it was not within her bounds to question Kirk's decisions, she felt they should be able to help the Narn. As Kirk said, they were running out of potential allies. What allies they had were very iffy. The Vree were now at war with the Centauri, the Earth Alliance was very disappointing to say the least, and the Markab were still recovering from the Drafa Plague.
They finally arrived at the intended door. Kirk pressed the buzzer.
The door opened and a Markab stood there.
Kirk bowed his head in formal respect. "Ambassador Fashar, I presume?"
Fashar bowed painfully. He had contracted Drafa, but was saved in time by Dr. Franklin and Dr. Lazarenn with the formula sent from the Markab homeworld. Fashar gestured for Kirk and Gillian to enter his quarters. Black curtains and bunting hung everywhere.
Seeing Gillian's curious looks, Fashar said, "We are in mourning. Four-tenth of my people died before the Dark Angel of Drafa could pass over us." Fashar gasped softly. "I may have sinned, but the Dark Angel saw fit that you should pass on your cure to save the rest of us. What can we do for our saviors?"
Kirk took a deep breath uncomfortably. "Your homeworld needed all the resources it could get to rebuild itself. But your people was generous enough to install a tachyon communication array—"
Fashar interrupted. "Yes, yes, yes. I'm aware of that. It was most unfortunate that the government fell before they could do more for your ship. I understand you still need repairs...?" While Fashar was thankful for the Salvation, he was bitter about that particular incident. Many of the people, disillusioned with their priests, rose in revolt, causing the theocracy to collapse. Since Fashar was a member of the ruling priesthood, he might be recalled to Markab at any moment. If not by the secularist Provisional Government, then by any of the factions that gain ascendancy on Markab, including the military and the surviving theocrats.
Kirk sat in one of the ambassador's lounge chairs and nodded. "We could not impose ourselves on Markab and we realize that the new Provisional Government needed all the resources it could find to reestablish order on Markab and its colonies. Babylon 5 has resources we need. There is one resource that we severely lack for getting those resources. Money."
Ambassador Fashar frowned. "All of our resources are pouring into reestablishing order. We could not spare much."
Gillian leaned forward. "We really need money. Any amount you could spare would be acceptable."
The Markab ambassador sighed. "Even just a little would drain our resources. Captain Kirk, you could have lent your services to keeping order on Markab." His voice was edged with resentment.
The captain shook his head apologetically. "Like I said, we could not impose ourselves further on your homeworld. I'm sorry that your government has fallen, but the Markab people must manage their own affairs. Imposing ourselves would aggravate the situation further."
Fashar held himself back in time before he could shout in the human's face. He'd heard rumors that Captain Kirk disapproved of theocracies and that rumor had circulated in the streets before the Dome of Truth was stormed by the rebellious mob. Fashar was most upset when he watched the ISN vid showing the people dragging the body of the red-robed High Priest down a street in the capital with several temples burning in the background. Didn't they learn from the Dark Angel? Such sins were enough for the Angel to return. Thank the gods for small mercies. Kirk must share in the fault of the current chaos.
The ambassador forced himself to feel grateful for Kirk's Salvation. The gods had seen fit to send this Savior. Fashar pulled out a chit from within his robes. "Captain, this gives you access to my credit account." He held up a hand, halting Kirk's protests. "The official account, not my personal account. I believe our Markab money is worthless. But until the Provisional Government announces a new currency or the Markab economy has stabilized, Babylon 5 will accept this money on the pre-Drafa value."
Gillian nodded at Kirk eagerly. This was good. But they doubted they'd have enough to cover the repairs of the Enterprise and Hakudo Maru. They thanked the ambassador profusely and Fashar saw them out of the door. Once the door was shut, Fashar turned to his liquor cabinet. Usually, the liquor was reserved for guests, but he felt like drinking like a Centauri. Ambassador Fashar may be recalled by the Markab Provisional Government at any moment. And he may then have to stand beneath the Dome of Truth before the damned secularists.
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Gillian shook her head with disappointment. The amount of money shown on the vid when she inserted the Markab ambassador's credit chit. It was a lot, but definitely not enough to buy material for both Federation ships. She pressed a button to release the chit back into her hand. Captain Kirk had made her some sort of secretary of the economy due to her knowledge of 20th century currency. He'd refused to sell anything from both ships. What was she going to do?
The noise and bustle of the Zocalo reminded her of Sunday market in San Francisco. Except instead of just English, Spanish and the occasional Japanese, completely alien languages of completely different sounds not reproducible by humans filled the bazaar-like setting. Instead of the weirdness of punks, the trendiness of gays, and the ordinariness of regular citizens, aliens of every size, shape and color milled around. Gillian sensed eyes and she turned around to see who was looking at her. It was one of the aliens. The female alien's skin color reminded her of a lobster, but the skin looked slick, smooth and she had a fin running over the middle of her head. Her dress made her think of a cross between linen and seaweed. An amphibious species? That appealed to her fascination with marine biology.
The female amphibian bowed with formal respect. Gillian didn't quite know how to response, so she only smiled politely.
"You are from the extra-universal ship, are you not?"
"Yes...."
The female alien bowed once more. "I am Kalika Qwal'mizra, tale-mistress and Ambassador for the Abbai Matriarchate. Is your ship captain here?"
Gillian was nervous about this. She was not sure if she should take this Kalika to Captain Kirk or call the captain over. Oh hell, screw it. She is the Federation's new Finance Minister.
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Ambassador Kalika was looking around with wide-eyed wonder. This ship was definitely not Earther or Vree. Everything was bright, neat and spoke of centuries of technological progress down entirely different paths. Abbai ships, while quite advanced and much more fluid than the Enterprise, were not as airy as this. While going over in a Federation shuttle (with its own gravity control technology!), she had thought the ship to be too small to have a jumpengine until the human woman Gillian Taylor told her that it ran on its own FTL drive. The ship looked fragile but then again, even the strongest Abbai warships looked incredibly fragile.
And such a diverse crew! Aliens she'd never seen or heard of before, a few that appear similar or familiar enough. And these aliens were working smoothly and efficiently with the human crewmen. That part was shocking. EarthForce would never admit an alien into it in spite of the fact that the Earth Alliance's frontier colonial bureaucracy had aliens within, and that there were alien immigrants on the inner Earther colonies as well as Earth itself.
The Abbai had been strong promoters of the League, if only to spread the peace so that Abbai everywhere could be kept safe. Kalika was escorted into a turbolift by Gillian. Gillian spoke to the empty air. "Deck 3."
The Abbai ambassador was surprised to find the turbolift moving horizontally, very fast if the flashing in the side was any indication. The flashing soon indicated the lift to be slowing, then moving up. The horizontal and upward motion was repeated once more. And Kalika wasn't feeling any motion in the lift! Gravity or inertia control even on a thing as a lift! Such a luxury on such a small starship was almost unheard of except in advanced luxury liners.
Kalika had to resist interrogating Dr. Taylor. The turbolift soon slowed once more and stopped. The doors opened to reveal a short corridor with doors on either side. Kalika could see a double door at the right end of the corridor. Apparently, this was the destination for the Abbai visitor.
Gillian smiled at Kalika. "The captain is in the VIP Lounge there." She walked with her to the double doors, causing it to open at their approach.
The VIP Lounge that the doors revealed was spacious and multi-level. Huge windows afforded a panoramic view of the back of the Enterprise. Comfortable-looking chairs and curving couches shared the space with potted plants and flowers. A human man was sitting in a couch with a pointy-eared alien man.
"Captain Kirk, Captain Spock," announced Gillian. "This is Ambassador Kalika of the Abbai."
The two men clad in red uniforms stood up to greet Ambassador Kalika. Those uniforms had expelled any doubt she had about the Enterprise being a military vessel.
"Gentlemen, I shall go straight to the point. The Abbai diplomatic intelligence has reports of your vessel's performance against the Centauri near Quadrant 27."
Kirk and Spock were surprised. Did everyone know what happened? Kirk spoke with not a little suspicion. "What do you want, Madame Ambassador?"
Kalika took a deep breath. "I urge you not to share any of your technologies, especially the shield technology."
Spock arched an eyebrow. "Ambassador, our Starfleet regulations forbid the sharing or the sale of any Starfleet technology with non-aligned species. Captain Kirk has already been asked to share the shield technology. Suffice to say, he refused."
Kirk nodded determinedly. "And we will continue to refuse."
Kalika was skeptical. "Captains, I am very well aware of your needs. Circumstances may force you to disregard those regulations and begin sharing, if only to survive."
Spock inclined his head in agreement. "While distasteful, that is logical. I do not understand your concern. You must, at least, also share others' desire for our technology."
Kalika smiled. A smart being, this one, rather like one of the philosophical members of the Minbari religious caste. "My people have a similar force shield technology. Not even the Minbari have it, not that they actually need it. We have steadfastly refused to even sell it to any other race. We believe that should others have it, many more lives would be lost in the abuse of that technology."
Spock quirked his eyebrow once more. "Are shields not a defensive technology? Wouldn't they save lives on ships protected by shields?"
A smart being, indeed. "Normally, I would say yes. However, people have an ingenuity for turning defensive measures into offensive measures. Imagine the Centauri having the force shield technology. Centauri warships would smash through our worlds with impunity. Possibly even the Minbari may not be safe from such aggression."
Kirk nodded. They didn't have to think about that in their home universe. Just about every sufficiently advanced world had shield technology, but here, only the Abbai had it with a few other species like the Vree, Centauri and possibly the Minbari using a type of gravity field as a defense screen.
"Ambassador, I assure you that no one will get any technology from us."
Kalika was still skeptical. Poverty and piracy would make anyone do what they normally wouldn't do. "Thank you. However, I still think circumstances may force you. To help prevent this, my government is prepared to pay you a monthly stipend. Just to keep you from poverty. On one condition...."
Here it comes. Kirk knew that no one could be generous without wanting something in return.
"...that you send an envoy to my homeworld."
The Federationers were surprised. Kirk grinned. This was an opportunity for them to establish good relations with other worlds in this universe. He knew just who should be the Federation's first ambassador to the League, or at least the Abbai.
"I will accept on one condition: that you provide us with full information on all known worlds in this part of the galaxy."
It was easy enough to grant, so Kalika bowed in acceptance. "Please pardon my curiosity, but who would be your envoy?"
Kirk grinned more widely as he looked at Dr. Gillian Taylor. Realizing what this meant, Gillian's face shone with excitement. It was her chance to see how marine biology could give rise to an intelligent sentient species like the Abbai!
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"This is the first of many alliances for the coming war."
Sheridan and Delenn were very grateful for the generosity. And extremely relieved. The Great Machine within Epsilon 3 would help make Babylon 5 a bastion against the gathering darkness. It would be one of the few places that were able to resist the Shadows. Draal continued.
"You are not alone in the struggle. Succeed and there is a great possibility of hope." Draal focused his holographic eyes fully on Sheridan. "It may not be a good idea to allow knowledge of our new alliance to reach your Earth government."
Delenn was still concerned about Draal being alone deep within a dead planet. She knew that prolonged loneliness can do odd things to your mind. She was about to voice her concerns when Draal continued to speak.
"Captain Sheridan. Delenn. The stars keep me company and allow me to see. What this means, I am aware of what transpires on Babylon 5 and in far away worlds such as Janos 7." Draal smiled brightly, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I am not the only ally that you could have. There is another, in particular, who...." Draal sighed sadly. "Such an alliance would hold great hope for us all. It is unfortunate that distrust must be overcome first."
Sheridan and Delenn were puzzled. Who was the Minbari custodian of the Great Machine talking about? Delenn was about to speak once more when Draal frowned and held a hand up to his head. "I am picking up distress calls. You must go back to Babylon 5. Now."
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Kirk and Spock were walking through the bustle of the Zocalo once more. They'd just seen Gillian to the Abbai transport bound for Abba IV. Kirk wished her best of luck. Gillian's presence on Abba IV may help the Enterprise to build support upon the League of Non-Aligned Worlds.
"Spock, isn't this wonderful?"
Spock was still visually studying the various alien beings in the Zocalo. "Jim, this is indeed an opportunity to...." The Vulcan stopped when ads and vids playing on the monitor screens throughout the space station were suddenly replaced by the image of an ISN newscaster.
"We interrupt this program with this late-breaking story. Officials in EarthDome confirm that the Centauri Republic has begun a devastating frontal assault on the Narn homeworld. Reports continue to come in, alleging that the main Narn fleet has been neutralized and that Narn is completely encircled by its enemies. Neither government has yet confirmed nor denied these reports, though some messages relayed from Narn seem to corroborate the stories of massive destruction and death...."
Kirk and Spock looked at each other in shock. Kirk felt sick. He could have accepted Ambassador G'Kar's offer and help the Narn save lives from the Centauri attack on their homeworld. He hoped that his future decisions wouldn't condemn millions to death. The ISN newscaster's voice was drowning in a rising rumbling noise in the Zocalo. He was horrified to realize that the Narn and Centauri patrons were beginning a riot with each other and the two stranded Federationers were caught in the middle.
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After over a century, the Centauri were back. Twelve Primus-class battlecruisers approached Narn, escorted by Vorchan-class cruisers and darting Sentri fighters. The illegal mass driver launchers under the battlecruisers churned up energy for acceleration until they were able to send white-hot asteroids crashing down at the Narn homeworld. Each asteroid struck a Narn city or military installation. On the Centauri Royal Navy flagship Valerius, Londo Mollari watched it all helplessly through a port window, the end result of the Narn-Centauri War that he helped instigate nine months before.
Nine months. Londo knew that it was how long an impregnated human mother would wait until giving birth.
Nine months in which the Darkness grew and gathered strength. A battlecruiser soon blocked the last gleaming of the 82 Eridani sun, casting Londo in shadow. Another mass driver flashed past on the way to Narn, churning up the planetary atmosphere in dust storms and murderous shockwaves.
Narn continued to writhe in the throes that would give birth to Chaos. And Ambassador Londo Mollari was condemned to be the midwife. Horrified disgust and shame welled up in Londo as millions of Narn died.
"Your victims."
Londo hung his head in sickening shame.