Lord Marix: This chapter answers your question about Vulcan's location.
I used the warp calculator in the Star Trek Cartography website for warp-distance-time. Travel time in hyperspace is canon, stated clearly by JMS.
Somewhere on the former Austro-German border, Earth
The express maglev bullet train sped through the foothills of the Alpine Mountains. Normally, trains would slow down as it took the challenge of the craggy mountains, but in Earth's 23rd century, it was no longer necessary. Instead, it sped up until it was just a bit under the speed of sound. All of the birds, except a few who happened to be looking in the train's direction, didn't look up. Magnetically levitated over the tracks, the bullet train was silent, leaving only the sound of winds rushing past. It rushed through the city of Salzburg and approached Munich in its journey towards Geneva, the capital of Earth without stopping. Soon, the station at Geneva would receive the smell of spices from Istanbul, of coffee from Vienna. One of the passengers in the Istanbul-Geneva Express was Laurel Takashima, captain of the EarthForce ship Brittany just finishing her short shore-leave before reporting to Earth Central in EarthDome for a debrief.
As various channels droned on, including an ISN report and an ad for PsiCorps in the seat-back vidscreens throughout the train, Laurel Takashima indulged herself into a meal on the train: kung pao chicken, spring rolls, fried bananas in rum and an undersized bottle of chardonnay. The ISN anchorwoman was reporting that rumors about Janos 7 were causing the Earth Senate to discuss opening an investigation into EarthForce's illicit activities. Ignoring the report, Laurel washed down the taste of chicken with the chardonnay. She glanced at the Turk sitting next to her. A beefy dark businessman with dark eyes, the kind of eyes that Laurel might call 'bedroom eyes,' and a very black mustache drooped over almost-full lips. He had introduced himself as Murad Remlik, claiming to have just finished a traditional oil wrestling competition near Istanbul. Laurel's EarthForce demeanor forced the Turk to leave her alone.
She thought that the Turk looked rather tempting, but she preferred to be left alone. The Turk reminded her too much of her Persian first officer, Reza Malin. Every twenty minutes or so, the Turk would look up from the Universe Today newspaper and look around, stealing quick glances at Laurel's legs.
Laurel looked up as a young man with sandy blond hair made his way down the aisle, probably on his way to the bathroom. Judging by his college clothes, he was going home in Scandinavia, perhaps a college girlfriend in Stockholm. He looked rather relaxingly pleasant, a small smile permanently on his lips.
Laurel reached for the tiny bottle of chardonnay, wishing a little that she was bold enough to return the Turk's attentions. She wrote that wish off to the small buzz she was getting from the wine. The image of her hand about to grasp the neck of the bottle was the last thing she remembered clearly before smashing her head into the seat in front of her. She almost blacked out as her body almost crushed itself against that seat. Darkness fell as the lights winked out. She was dimly aware of screams of surprise, terror and shock. The food tray clattered to the bottom of the seat in front of her, surrendering plates and wineglass. Flying glass, silverware, porcelain, paper and the arm of the Turk next to Laurel struck her, staining and ruining an uniform just crisply pressed for the debrief in EarthDome.
Everything then instantly moved backwards sickeningly and Laurel slammed back into her seat. Food and small luggage piled atop Laurel who was now lying facedown on the floor of the train. She could feel a man and a woman under herself. Her eyes were wide open in frozen horror, but she couldn't see anything in the sudden darkness and the shock. She couldn't breathe as adrenaline rushed through her body. She fully expected to die. Within a fraction of a second, she resented the fact that she was not dying on a spaceship, but on a train on dear old Mother Earth.
Finally, emergency lights came on. A sharp pain in her side caused her to wince as the two bodies under her began stirring. A broken rib, at least. She slithered off the bodies and raised her head to look around the seats down the aisle. She could hear two women crying, see one man holding his shirt over a bloodied nose. The Turk pulled himself up from under Laurel to a sitting position on the floor. Blood glistened from a cut in one of his temples and Laurel picked up the newspaper and gave it to him to press on the bleeding cut. EarthForce training coming to the fore, she looked warily around the seat on the floor. Almost everyone still looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Wide eyes, flaring nostrils, numbing shock. Their dream that Earth was safe from such violence was shattered.
A woman began to scream out of control. The scream was suddenly muffled as if a hand tightly covered her mouth. Whether from someone else or the screaming woman, Laurel didn't know. The EarthForce captain twisted around to look the other direction down the aisle to see what the woman was screaming about. The blond Scandinavian man was lying on the floor, crumpled against the door at the end of the train car, neck twisted at right angles so that the head was upright, looking at Laurel. But the eyes were empty and the face had the inanimate look. Dead.
Suddenly, the dark seat-back vidscreens came back on, showing the image of a woman in a crisp business suit. "Good evening. We apologize for the inconvenience. We have blown up the tracks in front of your train...."
It was so absurd. A terrorist being so corporate polite that Laurel had to laugh nervously. She wasn't the only one in the train car to laugh nervously or bitterly out of the tension. The Turk, Mr. Remlik, glared at the vidscreens. The strange female terrorist continued. "Again, we apologize for the inconvenience. We feel that Earth is ready to be aware of the existence of Raven Nation, a group dedicated to the purity of Earth and the glory of the Great Lord of the Dark...."
USS Excelsior
It has been 19 days and 14 hours crossing the 55 light-years from where the Romulan Neutral Zone should be to Vulcan at warp 8. Captain Sulu leaned back into his command chair. Soon, in 30 minutes, he would find relief and answers at Vulcan. It was quickly apparent soon after the battle that the locals couldn't detect a ship at warp. They even tested that by going through what would be the Deneva System in the Federation. They detected Centauri ships, but there was no indication that the Centauri ever saw them.
Angelo Tiffe said, "Captain, entering the Vulcan System."
Sulu could see the three suns of the 40 Eridani System. Vulcan would be the second planet around the primary star, 40 Eridani A, an orange-red dwarf. Sulu hoped that the Vulcans had something like the Federation's 40 Eridani A Starfleet Construction Yards. The primary star was almost overwhelmed by the bright light of the nearby young white dwarf, 40 Eridani B, its nebular cocoon hiding the very dim third star which, as a flare star, regularly announced itself through the dust cloud. He glanced back to Janice Rand, a question on his face.
Janice said, "No subspace radio. Also no tachyon radio activity. I even checked for primitive radio signals and there's nothing."
Long-range sensors had indicated that the planets were all there. Planetary atmospheres were still the same. Surely, there's still a Vulcan here? "Drop to impulse. Keep scanning for any sign of civilization in the system."
Ensign Tuvok said, "Sir, sensors are reading a ring around the second planet."
Akaar frowned. "Vulcan doesn't have a ring."
"Precisely."
It was worrisome. Sulu peered closely at Tuvok. So far, the Vulcan didn't betray any feeling or opinion about this. "Can we see it at this distance?"
"Yes, sir. Putting it on screen at maximum magnification."
The main viewscreen cut from the view of the approaching third planet, the outermost, in the Vulcan System to the view of a copper-hued planet. It looked as Mars would with a much thicker atmosphere and before most of the terraforming effort of past centuries. A small ocean separated a continent from another in the day side. Indeed, they could see the glow and glitter of a ring around the planet.
"No moons."
Sulu looked at Tuvok again, this time puzzled. "Isn't Vulcan supposed to have no moon?"
Tuvok said, "Currently, our Vulcan does not have a moon, but millennia ago, it had several small iron-nickel moons. At an early stage of space flight in the First Age of Expansion, we mined them as Vulcan itself is poor in ferrous materials. Through the centuries, the moons were mined out. But we still remember them in ancient legends and songs." The Vulcan gestured at the ringed planet in the main viewscreen. "Since the moons are not there, logic dictates that a civilization indeed rose on that planet and developed space flight."
Tiffe frowned at the viewscreen. "Maybe in this universe, the moons didn't form. Instead, we have this ring."
"That is a possibility," conceded Tuvok. "However, the ring appears artificial. There is too much variance in how light is reflected by the ring."
Troubling indeed.
When the Excelsior finally reached Vulcan itself, they were able to figure out more information. Most of that information, the bridge crew could draw from the main viewscreen.
Wreckages of ships, metal debris, and crystallized organic material made up the ring. Most of the broken ships and debris were the ruddy color unique to Vulcan craft. Many of the other debris were a glittering blue polycrystalline alloy. Many of the organic material that were not bodies or frozen fluids appeared to be torn pieces of bioarmor of rustic brown, golden-green, and slick-looking black. Almost all were battle-scorched.
The planet itself fared little better. Scorch marks made crisscrossing lines along with a few impact craters on the planet's surface.
Akaar, choking with horror, said, "The impact craters do not match any pattern of orbital bombardment. Most likely, they were result of ships crashing into the surface...." He trailed off as the main viewscreen magnified to show Vulcan's capital city, ShiKahr. It was clear that the large magnificent city suffered the most damage of all the Vulcan cities. It was like a nightmare. Dreams of relief and answers were as shattered as those ships in the ring.
Sulu finally closed his mouth. "Are there...anyone on the planet?"
Tuvok refined the science station's sensitive sensors. Upon seeing the readings, an odd sense of relief came deep within him before he could suppress it. "Yes, captain. Approximately 500,000 Vulcan biosigns spread across the planet. Most of them are underground in caves, catacombs or villages dug into the surface. Others are deep in the mountains. No clear indication of advanced technology among the inhabitants."
Lojur stared at the viewscreen, thinking of his own home on Alpha Centauri VII. "500,000.... Our Vulcan supports two billion inhabitants. What happened?"
Tuvok again took readings at his station. "Sensor analysis of the debris indicates that the event occurred 1,000 years ago, sometime in Earth's mid-13th century.
A beep sounded from Janice's console. Sulu turned to the female communications officer, surprised. "I thought there's no advanced technology on the planet! Lieutenant Commander, what is it?"
Janice turned around, surprise on her face. "Subspace activity! It has Starfleet signatures in it!"
The Enterprise! So Kirk has survived the transit into this universe after all! "Where?!" Sulu demanded.
"6.4 light-years away...in the Epsilon Eridani System!"
"Helm—!"
Lojur was already ahead of Sulu. "Aye, aye sir! Course plotted and laid in."
"Warp 9!" As the whine of the Excelsior's warp drive increased softly, Sulu asked impatiently, "ETA to Epsilon Eridani?"
"One day, 12 hours, 57 minutes, sir!" answered Tiffe.
USS Enterprise
Spock found himself in an open air temple high on a forbidding peak. Rising from the far end of the saucer-shaped platform behind the twin altars was an elegant version of the Vulcan hand salute shaped in gleaming metal. He recognized the temple as being the one where the priestess T'Lar performed the fal-tor-pan, the refusion, transferring his katra from Dr. McCoy back into his body. Dusty mountains rose sharply from the narrow valley floor. What was he doing on Vulcan? The narrow valley-pass, the Angata Kiti, the "Little Plain" permitted access from the Plains of Gol through the Gol Mountains to the Thanar Sea to the east. Spock looked to the west at where the pass opened out to the plains beyond. Sitting almost right at the entrance of the pass was a walled city on the edge of the arid Plains of Gol.
Spock frowned. This was not logical. The city of Mahoza, guardian of the pass, was destroyed before the First Age of Expansion, razed by troops of the nascent T'Kalasa Empire. So how could he possibly know what the ancient city was like? Suddenly, it was as if he flew forward from the open air temple and was able to look closely at Mahoza. He accepted the odd event as dreamers would accept. The hilltop in the center of the walled city was a temple and monastery for Kolinahr monks.
He could see a huge T'Kalasan army approaching from over the Plains of Gol, bristling with spears and bows, the hot Vulcan sun glinting off the T'Kalasan armors, helmets, shields and blades. Raising an eyebrow, Spock allowed himself to watch as T'Kalasan bowmen, longbowmen, crossbowmen and ballista operators stepped forward out of the army. The efficiency of the T'Kalasan armies was legendary on Vulcan, and on a few other planets when the First Age of Expansion began.
Arrows fitted into the various forms of bows, the soldiers behind the arrow men began pounding the butts of their spears into the ground in rhythm with a chant in Golic Vulcan to encourage the arrow men: "I'koi! I'koi! I'koi!" Attack, attack, attack.
The snap of bowstrings announced the release of thousands of arrows. The arrows flew high and true, a rain of death that blotted out the sun. Death went over the high walls of Mahoza and struck the rooftops and inhabitants of the city. The Kolinahr monks began chanting in the temple as the temple's massive gong sounded sonorously.
"I'koi! I'koi! I'koi!" Bow strings snapped and arrows blackened the sky again as they flew over the walls into Mahoza.
A man appeared on the city walls, larger than normal Vulcans of this era. The man ululated and began to dance on the walls of Mahoza and to sing. Instead of the typical dark Vulcan eyes, his eyes were Kirk's eyes.
"Fascinating," said Spock to himself. He was seeing legend come to life before his eyes. If he was correct, the man was Hormin, son of the deity of love and death, T'nanna, sometimes called the Lady of the Shadows.
"We'll drink the wine till the cup is dry, and kiss our daughters so they'll not cry, and raise the banners for we fly to dance with the Lady o' the Shadows. We'll dance all night while the moons run free, and woo the ladies upon our knee, and then you'll ride along with me, to dance with the Lady o' the Shadows. We'll sing all night, and drink all day, and in the temples we'll pray, and when it's done, then we'll away, to dance with the Lady o' the Shadows. There're some delight in wine, and some in ladies with ankles fine but my delight, yes, always mine, is to dance with the Lady o' the Shadows."
Throughout the song and dance, the T'Kalasan army thumped their spears to the periodical chant of "I'koi! I'koi! I'koi!" and the arrows were loosed upon the city. This time, Hormin, in his dance, blocked many of the arrows while most of the other arrows were made to either strike the city walls themselves or overshoot the city entirely.
Mahozan city officials in their officious robes climbed up on the wall. The monks' chant became the keening of ceremonial mourners. Spock knew that by now the monks had discovered the body of the city governor murdered by those city officials. The terrified officials reached Hormin and stabbed the dancing man with long daggers, killing him out of fear.
A woman in fluttering red robes appeared out of a dust cloud on the plain between the city and the army. It was T'nanna, Hormin's divine mother. Spock's eyebrows climbed up to his hairline. It was illogical. Vulcans did not dream so creatively, nor did they see legends in such clarity. The woman, in a swirl of red robes, screamed. The banshee scream resounded across the plains and the mountains. T'nanna pointed at Mahoza and lightning bolts lashed down from a clear cloudless sky at the city. As if that was the signal, the T'Kalasan army charged forward to storm the now burning city. T'nanna, impossibly, turned to look at Spock himself. Suddenly all Spock could see were her dark, dark almond eyes. Howling, she disappeared under the glittering army's onslaught.
Spock sat up in his bed, emotions quickly forced under his self-control. He was back on the Enterprise. How...disturbing and troubling. Yet intriguing.
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Captain Kirk pecked at the compadd with his fingers to rearrange some orders. Thanks to the Brakiri, Abbai and Markab money, they've completed their repairs. Giving the compadd back to a waiting ensign, he looked up from the command chair as Spock stepped through the turbolift doors. The Vulcan was late this morning. It was unlike him.
"Spock? Are you all right?"
Spock glanced at Kirk who could see that his eyes were troubled. "Nothing is wrong. Excepting our presence in this universe, of course."
Kirk frowned. Spock was telling the truth, yet he didn't answer the question directly. Something was definitely bothering him, but he left that alone. He knew that, in time, his friend would tell.
Pavel Chekov looked up from the readings in his navigation station. "Keptin, the jumpgate is activating."
"Onscreen." The concept of hyperspace and jumpgates fascinated him. It seemed somehow more democratic than the warp drive. Any ship that was incapable of crossing interstellar distances could easily use the jumpgate network. That has interesting implications for the Federation's protocols for the Prime Directive and First Contact. Currently, Federation First Contact protocols for a world just joining the galactic community required careful surveillance, and then beaming down directly to the homeworld's government without an encounter in space, if possible. How would First Contact diplomats handle a situation where even Earth's ancient space shuttle could merely enter a jumpgate and reach another star system?
And the speed afforded in hyperspace! Kirk was still confused about the hyperspace distance in relation to normal space. Something about the properties of hyperspace itself. It took 3 days to get to Earth 10.5 light-years from the Epsilon Eridani System, a trip that could be matched at warp 8.6, while a trip from Epsilon Eridani to Centauri Prime in the Zeta Tucanae System 21 light-years away only took 4 days in hyperspace. To match that, it required the almost impossible speed of more than warp 9.6. Spock and Scotty had wondered about the possibility of using warp in hyperspace itself.
Bright lights ran down the length of the jumpgate's four struts as the vortex generator built up the energy needed to punch a hole into hyperspace. A blue wormhole-like vortex spilled forward from where the lights terminated. A bright light flashed in the dark maw of the vortex, signaling an incoming ship. A vessel that was faintly reminiscent of a squid shot out of the jumpgate, petals open and pulsing blue on their inner side. The vortex in the jumpgate collapsed on itself.
Chekov reported, "Keptin, sensors are reading that wessel as an organic life-form, carrying another life-form inside itself."
Spock arched an eyebrow. A living bioship. Rumors and reports said that the Vorlon Empire was that advanced. Except for a faint reading of organic technology inside Babylon 5, especially in the spacedock section, they had seen no evidence of the vaunted Vorlon biotechnology. He grabbed the rare opportunity to study the organic vessel closely.
A sensor reading caused Spock to look back up at the main viewscreen in surprise. "Jim, the life-form inside the vessel is human."
The bridge shared Spock's surprise at that piece of information.
The Vorlon transport paused in its path towards Babylon 5. It turned slowly so that its forward tentacle-like appendages pointed at the Enterprise. Tension rose on the bridge. They knew that the Vorlons were not fond of the Federationers for some reason. The organic vessel turned back to Babylon 5 and slowly folded its petals close to its hull.
While the Vorlon transport slowly entered the open gate in the space station, Kirk looked for answers from Spock who obliged. "As far as sensors could tell, the vessel did nothing at all to us."
"But it stopped for a look."
"Indeed. As I said, sensors read nothing from the vessel. However, I sensed a faint telepathic scan sweeping through the Enterprise. As far as I could tell, the scan did not interfere with anything. Or anyone for that matter."
Kirk leaned forward. The star charts that they got from the Vree indicated that the Vorlons had the largest empire of any sentient species in this quantum reality. He had thought that the Vorlons would be major players in local interstellar politics, but as far as he could tell, the Vorlon ambassador had done nothing but watch from the sidelines. That raised red flags in his guts. Almost all of the ancient powerful and advanced species he'd met in his home universe interfered in a big way, even if just once or twice. They had been limited to one star system or so, but these Vorlons had an empire bigger than the Federation, the Romulan and Klingon Empires together. Plus, since their empire was closer to the galactic core, it had a lot more star matter. And all reports indicate that the Vorlon Empire didn't tolerate foreign entrances just like the Metrons and the Tholians. He jumped off the command chair to go to the turbolift. "Maybe it's time we had a talk with Ambassador Kosh."
Just before the turbolift opened, the jumpgate activated again and a Centauri personal liner flew out and made its way to Babylon 5.
Spock hurried to follow him into the turbolift. After ordering the turbolift to take them to the shuttle-bay, he said, "In my mind meld with Ms. Talia Winters, she didn't know much about the ambassador, but what knowledge she had indicated that we should watch the Vorlon."
Babylon 5
Delenn was nervous. She was ready to face Sebastian's Inquisition. But why didn't she feel ready? She didn't know what would happen. If she died.... She regretted not making up for the argument with John Sheridan. She knew that John was still fond of her as evidenced by the help he gave for the arrangements with Sebastian.
Delenn reached Gray 19. The pressure door opened for her. The area was so dark. A few circles of light kept the darkness from being absolute. She took comfort from the fact that the mix of light and dark produced grayness. I am Gray. Delenn took a deep breath and stepped through into one of the circles of light on the floor. The pressure door slid shut behind her. Puzzled and afraid, Delenn searched the gray darkness for the Inquisitor and stepped into another circle of light. And to another.
"That's far enough!"
A pair of manacles clattered across the floor. The large heavy-looking bracelets appeared to have snakes represented on them.
"Put them on!"
As she slipped her hands through the manacles, Delenn sincerely hoped she would survive the Inquisition.
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Morden dropped several small diamonds into the customs officer's hand and slipped past customs. He could hear the customs officer muttering about people getting past easily these days. Morden smiled. The so-called Inquisitor must have gone past already. Foolish of the Vorlons to waste possible assets that way. Morden chuckled. And ironic. This...Inquisition pushes the victims to their limits, sometimes beyond, thus making the victims, those who survive, stronger. That was very Shadowy of the Vorlons.
He spotted the one he needed to talk with.
He walked a little more briskly through the crowd to intercept him. It wasn't too difficult. Something about Morden caused the crowd to part, make way for him, and give enough space for one human and two invisible beings. He stopped walking, allowing the one he sought to walk straight to him. Touching his pendant, Morden put on his best smile.
"Captain James Tiberius Kirk, I presume."
The starship captain pulled up before bumping into Morden. "What do you want? I'm busy, Mr....."
Morden smiled wider as if catching an inside joke. "Morden. Rather, I should be asking you. What do you want?"
Kirk gestured for Spock to keep walking. "Another time. We can talk later."
Morden blocked Kirk again, his smile now enigmatic, knowing. "There is no other time. My associates require me to have your answer. What do you want?"
"Come on, Spock! The man's crazy."
Spock looked at Morden. Really looked, opening his disciplined mind. It seemed to Spock that Morden's gaze locked with his. The gaze reminded him of T'nanna in the dream. The human appeared to darken, as if a shadow fell upon him, though there was nothing to block the lights of the Zocalo. Morden continued to darken until he was little more than a silhouette, a shadow. Whispers hovered below the range of his mind, but his sharp Vulcan ears perceived some odd...clicks, chirps and soft chittering noises. The noises were almost...insectoid.
"Jim. I believe it is imperative that you answer him. Then we must...go about our business." Spock gave Kirk a meaningful look.
Morden dipped his head in newfound respect for Spock. "It is imperative for m—my associates. What do you want?"
Annoyed and irritated, Captain Kirk turned to Morden. "I am sick and tired of people wanting me to do something or other. Like you, mister! For once, I'd like to do everything I want. I have saved the galaxy again and again. My galaxy, that is. That's another thing. I want to go home and wrap myself in joy. Shuck off the damned Starfleet duty and limitations. They say time is the fire in which we burn. I want to stop burning! The galaxy owes me!"
Morden made a slight bow. "I see. Is that all you want?"
Kirk thought on that. Thinking about the powerful starship Enterprise, his mind, for some reason, unconsciously brought up some of the memories of Emperor Tiberius afforded by the transpatial alien device over Titan V. Lenore Karidian whispering again, Caesar of the stars.
No. He pulled back from those thoughts and settled on the memory of the cabin in Montana, his dog Butler, and Antonia. Too late for them. And there's Spock, of course. His t'hy'la. Turning back to Morden, it was Kirk's turn smile enigmatically. "Yes. That's all."
Morden bowed once more and walked away, fingering his pendant.
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"Who are you?" Sebastian thumped his cane hard onto the deck as he quietly spoke the question into Delenn's face. Mercifully, the human dressed in Victorian clothes didn't grasp the crystal atop the cane tightly enough to send pain coursing through Delenn.
"Who are you," Sebastian was now shouting. "Who are you to oppose the Vorlons?!"
"I...I did not 'oppose' them—"
"Do not quipple over technicalities with me!" Sebastian thumped his cane again, this time squeezing the crystal atop it. Energy crackled and hissed as Delenn screamed in the pain jolting from the manacles. John!
"The Vorlons asked you to make the so-called 'Newcomers' leave. You have failed in your duty to them." Sebastian narrowed his eyes as Delenn panted. He came closer to her face, noses almost touching.
"You don't like it here, don't you? You would let the intruders wreck what the Vorlons have worked so hard to preserve while you reach for glory! You'd rather you were back in your quarters, asleep, dreaming dreams of glory!"
Sebastian smiled as he caressed the crystal on his cane. Delenn gasped as faint pain trickled into her, tickling the Minbari, reminding her once again the power of the Inquisitor and his masters.
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Liria Satarah, dressed in mourning whites, pushed the food on her plate with a fork. Ever since Janos 7, she had very little appetite. She gazed at the mostly empty restaurant's windows overlooking the gardens in Babylon 5's Green Sector. So alone, unable to go home at either Betazed or Delta IV. By now, Lady Neclauna Nore would be presumed dead on Betazed and her too-young son, Cort Enaren, would be invested as the Scion of the Fourth House, Heir to the Blessed Books of Katara and Holder of the Sacred Scepter of Betazed.
Neclauna was so good to her. She missed her. Neclauna had taken care of her mother after her Phase-induced affair with a Deltan man in the Federation First Contact team. After her mother's death, Lady Neclauna had taken the little girl into her house, almost adopting her. Liria was given the privileges of the Fourth House, even allowed to use them to gain an admission into the prestigious University of Medara. Liria reached out for the glass of wine and downed all of the wine.
A shadow came over her, causing her to look up. It was a human man dressed in a very sharp business suit with a pendant hanging at his neck. He was very handsome. She was momentarily tempted to invite him into her bed and then turn on her pheromones high enough to give him a heart attack when she's satisfied with him. Odd...she could sense three sets of emotions from the direction of the man.
"Is there a problem, Mr....?"
"Morden. May I sit?"
Frowning at the presumption of the man, she nodded. Morden sat in the chair opposite her. Liria leaned forward onto her elbows on the table. She opened her mind to read this human. It was unethical by Betazoid standards, but she threw all of that out when she killed with her mind at Janos 7. Morden's face somehow disappeared into shadow. Briefly, it appeared as if there were faint dark images of two giant spider-like beings flanking the human. Just for an instant, she thought she could see glowing eyes, many more than a pair on each faint image. She threw her hands up to her temples and the images vanished as Liria slammed down barriers around her mind.
Shakily, she looked at Morden sideways. The human looked as if he knew what she just did and saw. "Wha...what was that?"
Morden smiled widely. "Ah...my...protection. Actually, that's something I want to discuss with you. I know what happened at Janos 7."
Liria narrowed her eyes at Morden. "We can protect ourselves," she said icily.
"So I hear. I must tell you, I'm impressed with how you handled...me just now, Liria. I can call you Liria? The last time someone like you scanned me, she screamed and almost fainted. And that was just a surface scan. Now.... What do you want?"
Liria carefully reached out to Morden with her empathic ability, carefully filtering out the other two sets of emotions flanking him. She could sense that he had a sincere desire to make people happy, to grant people's wishes. Underneath that was a simmering feeling of resentment against the universe. That feeling, she could identify with.
Liria looked down at her plate, forcing herself not to tremble with the raging emotions. "I want to make everyone learn not to screw with me, not to violate everyone else. I want a way to teach them all. I want to go home and let your stupid reality burn!" Liria looked up at Morden. "Can you and your associates arrange that for me?"
He smiled. "Normally, you and your answer would not satisfy my associates. Actually, my associates would have preferred to see you dead. Oh, don't worry, things have changed." He leaned forward, flashing his perfect white teeth and dropping his voice to a whisper. "The Great Lord will give you a place among us."
Liria barked a laugh. "Great Lord?"
"Yes. The Great Lord of the Dark. Don't laugh. He knows more than you suspect. We'll explain if you come with us. It is possible to talk with him and you can...hear him. You can...bathe in his presence." His face seemed to shine with memory. Liria sensed his awe and ecstasy. He was being totally honest, which was more than she could say for the locals. He breathed through parted lips and seemed to stare at something distant and wondrous. It was a feeling that Liria associated with a memory of the most intense orgasm that any Deltan could inspire. She realized that she wanted to experience that and draw power from that. The power to teach them all and feel that intensely good about it....
"Words cannot describe it.... Oh...foolish me, you can read me. But scanning me is not the same. You must experience it to really know. You must." Morden went back to his serious self as if he realized he got too vulnerable as a man. He stood up. "Think about it, Liria." He took a pendant out from inside his jacket. It was a copy of the pendant he was wearing. He delicately put it on the table in front of Liria. "If you accept, just hold this and think about it."
Morden left the restaurant. Liria looked down at the pendant lying on the table. Perhaps this Mr. Morden doesn't deserve the pheromonal death after all.
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Lennier was running, freaking out. Insanity! Why would the Vorlons do this to Satai Delenn? Finally he saw Captain Sheridan. Breathlessly puffing up to him, he said, "You can defy Kosh! You must defy him!"
"Whoa, whoa, what's going on?"
"Save Delenn! You must save her from the Inquisitor!"
Sheridan frowned at the panicking Minbari. "The ambassador chose to follow Kosh. It's not my business."
Lennier came close to Sheridan, nearly reaching out to grab the captain's uniform. "You don't understand. The Inquisitor.... I...I believe he's killing her. Please!"
Sheridan ran, catapulted into action beyond any pettiness, beyond any thought for himself. Only Delenn mattered in the moment.
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Captains Kirk and Spock donned the breather masks and entered the alien sector. Spock made sure that his tricorder was functioning. Moving through the mists, they soon came up to a door. Before pressing the doorchime, the door slid open. Glancing at Spock, Kirk tentatively stepped forward. Did Kosh know they were coming?
In the mist, Ambassador Kosh was standing, facing the two visitors. The ambassador's iris narrowed at Spock who was studying the readings on his tricorder. Kirk studied the Vorlon's encounter suit, wondering what was hidden within it. "Ambassador Kosh, I am Captain Ja—"
Kosh narrowed its iris at Kirk, bowing its headpiece. The Vorlon's translator made musical tones as it spoke.
"This circle is not for you. Go." Kosh glided closer to the visitors. "Leave. Now."
Spock raised an eyebrow at the tricorder sensor readings. "Jim—" The Vulcan stopped speaking when Kosh snapped its head back to Spock. The green light in the ambassador's iris turned red. The tricorder beeped shrilly and finally fizzled as it short-circuited.
"You would know me? Impudent!"
Captain Kirk was now angry. "Now look here! We came here, expecting to act like civilized people. I have met others like you! Ancient, powerful and arrogant! Many had delusions of divinity. The Melkotians, Apollo, the Platonians, the 'god' at the center of the galaxy. I wouldn't be surprised if more such so-called gods are discovered in my universe. Little powers at the mercy of bigger powers! The Federation won't stand for it! I won't stand for arrogance from you!"
Ambassador Kosh's iris color returned to green. "You are not to remain in the circle. The flock cannot tolerate your interference. Leave."
Kirk laughed mirthlessly. "We can't! We have no way to return home! We can't—" Kirk stopped as he realized what he was saying. No way to go home? He can't have already accepted that!
Kosh turned to face an organic-looking viewscreen. The organic viewscreen remained dark. Kirk got the feeling that the Vorlon pitied them. He didn't like that. The ambassador's translator sparkled again. "Then the willows must scuttle carefully."
Spock, having given up trying to reactivate the tricorder, put the destroyed device back into its bag. "That is not logical. Trees do not have the sentience for willful destruction. However, if you mean ourselves, Ambassador, we will not willingly 'scuttle' ourselves."
Kosh's translator flashed colorfully and tinkled. "Then the shepherds of the circle will come."
Kirk wished he had a phaser with him to teach this Vorlon a lesson. His communicator beeped for attention. Mmmm, perhaps he could use the transporter? Nah, that would be very unprofessional, not to mention unethical. Opening it, the captain said, "Kirk here."
The singer's voice of Uhura excitedly came out of the communicator. "Captain Kirk! Sensors are detecting a ship approaching the system at high warp."
Warp? As far as they knew, this universe had no warp technology. Only hyperspace. "Are you sure, Commander?"
"Yes sir. Captain...it's the Excelsior."
Stunned, Kirk looked at Spock then at Kosh. It was as if a dream became reality. The Federation had found a way into this universe! The Vorlon ambassador dipped its head mournfully. "The avalanche has started. It is too late for the pebbles to vote."
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Ivanova threw her face close to her console, eyes wide. She had thought that the mini-nova-like flash of light signified an entirely new form of jumppoint. Not such a far-fetched theory, considering the form of jumppoint used in the rumors of mysterious aliens at Sigma 957. When the new white-blue starship vectored into the system and slowed upon approach to Babylon 5, they were ready to analyze the new type of jumppoint with the best tachyon scanners available on the station, only to find nothing to indicate hyperspace. It was an entirely new form of FTL drive. Just before the Excelsior slowed its way out of warp to sublight speeds, the scanners had caught glimpses of a spatial distortion.
She was no scientist, but the closest comparison she could think of was the strongest of Minbari gravitic engines. Minbari gravitic technology manipulated a Zero Point Field to pull at the superstrings of the universe. Essentially, instead of propelling itself towards a planet, a gravitic ship uses the planet's gravity field to pull itself closer.
But to be able to use it in the void between the stars where there's no gravity wells! The lack of hyperspace characteristics indicated it could also be used at superluminal speeds in normal space, impossible as it should be!
"Mr. Corwin, record everything! The captain will want to see this!"
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Light flared from Sebastian's cane, growing brighter and brighter until the Inquisitor could no longer be seen. The light faded. Sheridan and Delenn were surprised to see that Sebastian and the cane were now gone. The manacles were also gone from Delenn's wrists and Sheridan was no longer bound to the rack on the wall. He stumblingly ran to the Minbari just standing up from the floor. They fell into each other's arms, as much for mutual physical support in their weakness and exhaustion as for emotional support.
"Delenn...are you all right?"
Still trying to catch her breath, Delenn didn't want Sheridan to worry too much about her. "Yes. I'm fine."
"Good. Delenn.... I...I'm sorry."
Delenn smiled weakly. "I am sorry as well. The...the Newcomers can stay. It no longer matters. What matters is...us."
The pressure door slid open, offering a way out of the area. Delenn and Sheridan gazed into each other's eyes. Are they really free of the Inquisitor? They cautiously walked to the door, still supporting each other. Out of the darkness beyond the door came Sebastian. The couple almost groaned in disappointment. Sebastian grinned mischievously at their reaction.
"You can go. You've passed, both of you."
Delenn could hardly believe it. "Passed what?"
Amazingly, wonder came over Sebastian's Victorian face. "How do you know the Chosen Ones? 'No greater love hath a man than he lay down his life for his brother.' Not for millions, not for glory, not for fame. For one person, in the dark, where no one will ever know or see. I have been in the service of the Vorlons for centuries, looking for you. Diogenes with his lamp, looking for an honest man willing to die for all the wrong reasons. At last, my job is finished! Yours is just beginning! When the Darkness comes, know this: You are the right people, in the right place, at the right time!"
Sebastian respectfully bowed his head at Delenn and Sheridan and walked away. The couple, who had come to a new understanding of each other under the Inquisitor's ministration, gazed deeply into each other's eyes, trying to read each other's minds. Grateful and glad, they hugged and held each other tightly.
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Captain Sulu walked through customs, flanked by Rukaiya and Ambassador Miranda Jones. They were amazed at everything around them. An Earth Alliance, a universe full of unknown aliens. Yet, their amazement was tempered with somber thoughts of the fate of planet Vulcan in this universe.
"'Stand not amazed!'" It was Captain Kirk standing beside Spock. Sulu laughed at Kirk's Shakespearean reference.
"You're alive! And you've survived this universe!"
Kirk grinned mischievously. "I can't resist a good adventure." He turned his attention to Miranda Jones. "Dr. Jones! A long time!"
Miranda gave a small icy smile. "A long time indeed. I'm Ambassador Jones now, Captain Kirk."
Kirk smirked. "What can I say? I'm fond of keeping my rank on my ship. Perhaps you can help me establish a Federation presence in this universe, now that we have three ships together."
"Perhaps."
Kirk then turned to the Argelian woman, Rukaiya. "Ah...I see that beauty hasn't failed in my absence."
Rukaiya smiled pleasantly. "I'm Rukaiya, the Excelsior's ship counselor."
Kirk looked at Sulu, surprised. "Ship counselor?"
Sulu shrugged wryly. "Take it up with Starfleet Command."
Kirk offered an arm to Rukaiya who then took it. The group walked away from the customs area. They were consciously aware of stares from people in the area, both human and alien. They caught sight of Captain Sheridan walking alongside a human man who, strangely enough, was dressed in a Victorian suit, complete with a top hat.
Captain Kirk waved to Captain Sheridan. "Ah, Captain! Meet my fellow starship captain, Hikaru Sulu of the USS Excelsior. Sulu, this is Captain John Sheridan, the military governor of Babylon 5 for the Earth Alliance. Oh, this is Ambassador Miranda Jones. We're hoping that she can be our ambassador to Babylon 5."
Miranda primly bowed slightly, causing the light to play on the jewels in her sensor net gown and the tiny tiara in her dark hair. Sebastian twisted his lips at the sight of the jeweled net worn over her dress. Sheridan could almost hear Sebastian repeating his words to him before the Inquisition: Corruption, immorality, chaos!
Miranda pursed her lips at Sebastian, as if she knew what he was thinking.
Before Sheridan could extend a hand to either Sulu or Miranda, Rukaiya suddenly panted as if experiencing a mild seizure. Eyes gone empty, the Argelian woman panted, "Oh! Oh! Here is evil. Monstrous terrible evil! Consuming hunger...a hunger that never dies! An ancient terror...." The Argelian seeress pointed at Sebastian, shouting, "Redjac...REDJAC!!" Rukaiya fainted, falling into Sulu's arms.
Kirk stared at Sebastian who was staring at Rukaiya with surprise. He'd heard those trance-induced words before...on Argelius II when Scotty was framed for the murder of three women in 2267. Too bad they left their phasers back on the ship. He pointed a finger straight at Sebastian. "Captain Sheridan! This man is dangerous! You must throw him in the brig! No, you must space him!"
Sheridan gestured to calm the alarmed Federationers. Rukaiya was just waking back up as Miranda and Sulu helped her into a seat. It was a good thing that they agreed to leave their weapons on their ships. "Come with us. Looks like this is a conversation that requires privacy." Several passersby were looking at Rukaiya with curiosity. Sheridan led Sebastian and the Federationers back through customs to the doors leading into Bay 25. Miranda stayed behind with Rukaiya. Once he was sure of the privacy, Sheridan turned to Sebastian.
"I don't know about this 'Redjac' that the lady spoke of, but I did a little digging based on what Mr. Sebastian told me." Sheridan's voice now had a vindictive edge. Kirk wondered what Sebastian did to the Earth captain. Have there been unsolved murders lately on the station? He hasn't heard anything about that. "The records confirm you lived on Earth, in London, in the year 1888. The records also indicate that you vanished suddenly, without a trace on November 11, 1888. It's a very interesting date, Mr. Sebastian!"
"Indeed," said Spock. "The day before that saw the last of a string of murders in Whitechapel, a part of London's East End." Although there was no visible sign on the Vulcan, he was warily ready to launch an assault on Sebastian. "It is also interesting that you remain the same human you were in 19th century London whereas in our universe, you possessed various bodies to achieve your goals."
Sheridan peered at Spock. Body possession? It sounded like a bad horror film.
Sebastian looked at everyone for a long time, then appeared to have come to a decision. "The city was drowning in decay, chaos, immorality! A message needed to be sent, etched in blood for all the world to see! A warning. In the pursuit of my 'holy cause', I—did things, terrible things, unspeakable things! The world condemned me, but it didn't matter because I believed I was right and the world was wrong! I believed I was the divine messenger! I believed I was—"
"Chosen?" sneered Sheridan.
Sebastian appeared chastened by that sneer. "Yes. Chosen." The Victorian man turned to the Federationers. "One of the names given to me was 'Red Jack.' It would appear that I have a counterpart in your universe. I'm curious...what happened to my counterpart?"
Spock took up the burden of explanation. "Our Redjac was a noncorporeal lifeform that fed on fear, going from body to body. After 1888 London, he was responsible for the murder of 7 women in Shanghai, China on Earth in 1932; 5 women in 1974 Kiev, Russia; 8 women in the Martian Colonies in 2105; 10 women in Heliopolis on Alpha Eridani II in 2156; and Redjac framed our chief engineer, Mr. Scott, for the murder of three women on Argelius II during one of our missions. The last person that Redjac possessed was Inspector Hengist from Deneb II where the killer was known as Kesla. Redjac was also known as Baratis on Rigel IV."
Sebastian shook his head regretfully. "So my counterpart's delusion has reached to other worlds. What happened to him?"
Kirk bared his teeth in an expression bordering on a sneer. "We dispersed him out in space. It was the end of Redjac. We could do the same favor for you."
Sebastian smiled mockingly. "If I was a free man, I would gladly accept the favor. Oh...if you do the favor anyway, the Vorlons will want to punish you. In London, I was...found by the Vorlons. They showed me the depth of my mistake. My crime. My...presumption! They have locked, no, imprisoned me in this body as I did four hundred years of penance in their service. A job for which they said I was ideally suited! Now...." Sebastian became bitter. "...perhaps...they will finally do me the favor that you, Captain Kirk, did to your Redjac!"
"I think that would be wise," said Captain Sheridan. He was still feeling vindictive about the torture meted out to him and Delenn in the Inquisition.
Sebastian said, "Now Captain Sheridan, I must make my appointment with my masters." The door to Bay 25 slid open at the captain's touch on a small console. Sebastian raised his top hat off his head in salute at Sheridan and the Federationers. "Good luck to you in your holy cause, Captain Sheridan! May your choices have better results than mine! May you return home and realize your dreams, so-called Newcomers, without feeling the shepherd's staff!"
Sebastian stepped into the gloom of Bay 25 toward the waiting Vorlon transport, leaving everyone to ponder his final words.
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Liria Satarah made sure that the light didn't cause the pendant to flash, attracting unwanted attention. She slipped out of the shuttle from the Hakudo Maru she'd taken into Babylon 5. She wished she could just beam over, but the centrifugal movement of the station made transport iffy. While a person could still transport over into a clear area, the station's movement within the seconds of transport could mean an arm materializing in a wall or a leg in a floor or worse. But transport to the ship was fine. She didn't know whether a Starfleet ship could do the transport both ways.
Liria peered into the dimness of the docking bay. Finally, she spotted a small bulbous vessel the size of the Vulcan-built red shuttle. The craft, entirely purple, had two pylons for tails, each ending in golden forward-pointing fins.
Quickly, she went over to the Centauri personal liner. Through its open door, Liria could see a luxurious setting. Plush couches, fringed pillows and curtains, a fully equipped bar, and a small chandelier. It was like a room taken out of a palace or from a quarter in the Moulin Rouge in Paris on Earth and made into a shuttle. A man stepped into view.
"I'm glad you accepted," said Mr. Morden.
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Londo Mollari downed the last drop of brivari and went to bed. He had thought he saw Mr. Morden and dismissed it as imagination. He didn't want to think about him. It would mean thinking about his own actions and decisions. Soon, the drowsiness induced by the brivari slipped him into sleep.
Londo tossed and turned in his bed, beginning to dream.
"Keep this up, G'Kar, and soon you won't have a planet to protect!"
Narn fighters made beelines toward a space station above Raghesh 3, destroying it. Within seconds, the image dissolves and...
...A hand emerging from a huge fiery sun, reaching for something...
...Centauri Prime from orbit...
...Londo stands on a carefully arranged sandy ground. He helplessly looks up, shielding his eyes with his hands from the sun. In the clear blue sky, slimy black ships with spouting spines flew overhead. At first, the strange black ships were few, but soon they were many, so many they blotted out the sun...
...Londo stands in the Imperial White before bowing his head for an old high priest to place a crown upon his head. Suddenly everything seems to pause, to trip for a second, as if it was a vid encountering a brief malfunction...
"Interesting delusions you have, Londo."
Surprised at the unexpected turn his dream had taken, Londo looks up at the old high priest. Except...the high priest is not old anymore.
"Morden!"
The slick human grins. He wears his customary pendant over the robes of the coronation high priest. Londo is slightly annoyed to see that Morden still looks ridiculously handsome in those robes.
Making a 'come-hither' finger at Londo, Morden says, "Come."
Londo hesitates. It is his dream, right? Just a dream. He follows Morden to the back of the high altar. This part of the Coronation Temple should be bright, light and airy like the rest of it, but it is dim, shadowy and dank. A rough door is set in the wall behind the high altar, splintery and dry.
Eyeing the aged ivory doorhandle, Londo asks, "What's this? This is my dream. You should not be here, I think."
Morden smiles, flashing perfect teeth as white as Londo's ceremonial clothing. "I'm not really here. Someone wants to meet you. It's..." Morden gives one of those damnable smiles again. "Let's say it's a senior associate."
Londo perks up. This is different. Not "associates." Shrugging, Londo turns the doorhandle and the door opens easily. A grim stone-walled chamber is behind the door. He looks back at Morden. Somehow he is not surprised to find the human gone, vanished.
Londo steps into the chamber. One wall has an arch opening onto a stone balcony. The balcony overlooks a large city. Dark spires, seeming to be made of a similar material as the black ships he saw earlier, reach up to the great frosted glass dome hiding the sky from the city.
Looking around the room, Londo thinks that the chamber looks like it was melted out of the gray stone. Flames roar in the fireplace, but Londo feels no heat from the fire. The fireplace is built of strange oval stones. The stones are wet, slick in spite of the fire, appearing to be merely stones when he looks straight at them. But when he glimpses them out the corner of his eye, the stones seem to be faces. Faces of men and women of all races twisting in anguish, moaning and screaming silently.
It is disturbing. Londo had never known himself to be so morbidly creative in his dreams.
Except when glimpsing through the veils of time, of course.
A being stands in front of the fireplace. It is...simply there where it wasn't only a moment ago. The being is a blurry shadow, out of focus. The Great Game on Centauri Prime taught Londo that even shadows moving in the dark can be fatally dangerous. Londo squints to see who it was. The dark being approaches, clearing, brightening into a normal being who is either a human or a Centauri woman. He isn't sure, but she has long midnight black hair instead of a shorn head like any proper Centauri woman. A beautiful one, at that, dressed all in the purest of white, a white that makes snow seem filthy, with silver jewelry on the dress and in her hair. Her primal beauty was such that Londo isn't sure if the being is actually a mortal. Londo has to ignore his instinctive feeling of scandal. Centauri women were forbidden to dress all in white. Too Imperial for women on Centauri worlds. The only women permitted to dress all in white were the empress and the telepathic women in the Emperor's Own.
"Finally, I meet a valued Friend of the Dark. Welcome to the city of Great Dis," the woman with impossibly pale skin says in the language of Centauro. For an instant, her eyes and mouth becomes openings into endless caverns of fire.
Londo gasps and steps backward. This has to be a dream. He could sense great power emanating from the woman. "This is a dream," Londo murmurs. "A nightmare." He squeezes his eyes shut, urging himself to wake up.
He opens his eyes and sees that the room is still there, the black city still gleaming oily outside the balcony. The woman by the fireplace smiles. Her eyes and mouth becomes openings into an endless furnace again.
"Is it a dream? Does it matter?" says the primally beautiful woman. Her voice did not change with the fiery transformation within her face. "Do you wrestle with dreams? Do you contend with Shadows? Do you move in sleep? My reach may be far and weak, but you would not remain sane in the Abyss."
Nervously, Londo steps backwards to the door, not daring to take his eyes off the dangerous woman. The ambassador tries the doorhandle. It is locked.
This is a dream. It has to be. Londo snarls, "What do you want? Who are you?"
Eyes and mouth becoming flames yet again. "Those questions may be dangerous for some, but not me. I have my own name, but I serve the one you call Morgoth."
Londo finds himself frantically jerking at the doorhandle. Morgoth! To the Centauri, Morgoth was the god of the underworld and protector of front doors. He may protect front doors, but he was not someone to trifle with. Insanity! Why wouldn't the doorhandle budge? He keeps twisting. Sweating palms slips off the handle and sharp pain stabs into one of his palms.
Londo looks closely at his palm. A splinter from the dry door is stuck straight in the center of his hand. Looking up at the woman by the fireplace, he yanks the splinter out and rolls it between his fingers nervously. Those faces on the fireplace stones....
"Are you expecting glory? Power? You have interesting delusions of becoming Emperor. I can make those delusions real, you know."
Breath becomes short in the Centauri ambassador. "Morgoth...he...is bound...in the Abyss." Londo finds strength in the mantra taught by priests in his childhood. "Morgoth was bound by the Great Maker outside of time at the moment of Creation. Bound until the end of time, until all the Centauri heavens are united."
Mocking laughter comes from the fires in her mouth. "The end of time?" The fires in her mouth and eyes become so hot Londo has to shelter his face with his hands. "Fool, you are like a rat dreaming of becoming a man. You think your slime is the universe. The death of time will bring me power such as you could not dream of. Power that the pitiful Vorlons could only envy."
"This is a dream. It must be a dream. I will wake up safe and warm in my bed on Babylon 5," Londo mutters to reassure himself.
"Do you think you are safe in your dreams? From me? Look!" The woman in white points commandingly at the mantle above the disturbing fireplace. A large rat crouches on the mantle, warily blinking and sniffing at the air. It wasn't there before. The beautiful woman crooks a finger at the rat. Squeaking, the rat arches its back, forepaws clawing into the air. The slender finger continues to curl and the rat topples, scrabbling frantically on its side, scratching at the air, its squeals becoming shrill. The rat's back keeps bending, bending with the curling finger. A sharp snap, like the breaking of a twig, sounds from the rat. It trembles violently and is still, lying bent, its ears almost touching its rear-end.
Londo swallows. What he wouldn't give for a glass of brivari. Or a sword. Even better, a Royal Guardsman's blaster. Staring at the terrifying woman, Londo stabs the splinter he was holding into the palm of his other hand and twisted it to increase the pain. The pain should wake him, but he only gets another bleeding wound for his trouble. "This is only a dream," Londo pants. "I will wake up and forget you."
The woman leans her head forward, looking at the ambassador through her long eyelashes, and smiles. "Will you?" The finger that broke the rat moves toward Londo. Crooking her finger, she asks again, "Will you?" Londo screams in terror as he arches backwards helplessly. He tries to take control of his muscles back, but it is in vain as he bends further and further backwards. "Will you?"
Londo screamed and pulled himself up in the darkness. Blankets. A pale light filtered through the curtains drawn over the windows. Thank the Great Maker! It was just a nightmare. "Lights."
A bright color drew his eyes downward to where his hands clutched the blankets. Gasping at the stain on the blankets, he turned his hands palm up. A tiny pinprick of blood welled in the center of each hand.
Hormin's song in Spock's dream was based on the song "To Dance with Jak o' the Shadows" by Robert Jordan.