Babylon 5 - 15 - Legions of Fire - Book III - Out of The Darkness

Babylon 5

Legions of Fire

Book III

Out of The Darkness

By Peter David

Hiller of the planet Mipas had always been an enthusiastabout Earth history. He wasn't alone in that

regard; many of the residents of Mipas shared the interest. Earth history had becomesomething of a fad.

But Hiller specialized in one particular as-pect of Earth activity and culture, and that was the great art of

mountain climbing.

It was a practice that was virtually unknown among theMipasians. Not that there was a lack of

mountains on Mipas;far from it. There were several particularly impressive ranges,including some that

rivaled those scaled by the immortal Sir Ed-mund Hillary, someone for whom Hiller felt a particular

close-ness thanks to the similarity in their names.

However, no one on Mipas had ever displayed the slightest interest in endeavoring to scale any of these

peaks. All in all,Mipasians weren't an especially aggressive race-they pre-ferred to live their lives

peacefully and avoid the notice of themore aggressive and bellicose races that populated the galaxy.

Hiller, though, felt the urge to tackle the mountains.

They seemed to taunt him, their peaks shrouded in cloud andmystery. It was said that gods resided up

there. Hiller didn 't lendmuch credence to that theory, but nevertheless he simply knewthat, sooner or

later, he was going to have to try to find out forhimself.

" Why? " his friends would ask him. " What is this need? Whythis driving ambition to clamber up the side

of a protruding geo-graphic formation, at great personal risk? " Hiller would alwaysgive the exact same

response. He would toss off a salute with onetentacle and declare, "Because it's there." He was rather

proudof that quote, having come across it in his studies.

Now Hiller was on the verge of accomplishing his most ambi-tious feat. He was in the midst of essaying

a climb up. . . the BigOne. The Mipasians had never bothered to name their moun-tains. This one was

dubbed the Big One for convenience' sake,simply because it was the biggest mountain around. Many

dayshad Hiller climbed it. Many times had he nearly fallen to hisdeath, dangling by the tentacles before

continuing his long,slow, and oozing way up the side. And finally, after many peri-lous days and nights, he

had nearly reached his goal, ike hadbroken through the clouds, and was using a breathing device toaid in

his ascent, since the air at the mountaintop was quite thin.

He felt giddy. A child's wonder possessed him, as he wonderedwhether he would indeed witness the

surprised expressions ofthe gods, gaping at him, when he managed to reach the peak.

And then, as he stopped for a moment to rest, he heard some-thing. It was a deep, sonorous sound that

at first seemed to becoming from everywhere. It echoed from all the rock walls, itsorigin impossible to

discern. Hiller looked around with frustra-tion, then plunged a tentacle into his pack and extracted a

viewer. Mist and clouds hovered all around him, but the viewer could easily punch through and give him a

clear idea of what, ifanything, lay in the vicinity.

He activated the viewer and again wondered if he would findthe gods waving at him. How amazing-and

amusing-wouldthat be?

After a few moments, he began to discern shapes. They werecoming from the north ... no. No, not quite.

They were coming

from overhead and descending quickly, horrifyingly quickly. Twoof them, no, three, perhaps four. It was

impossible to be certain.

What he did know, though, was that they were getting closer.

The mountaintop began shaking in sympathetic vibrating re-sponse to the powerful engines that were

propelling the objectsthrough the sky. Pebbles, then larger rocks began to fall, and atfirst the full

significance of that didn 't register. As even biggerrocks tumbled around him, though, he suddenly realized

that hewas in mortal danger.

He started scrambling back down as quickly as he could,having spotted a cave on the way up that might

provide shelter.But it was too late, and he was too slow. A massive avalanche fellupon him and Hiller lost

his grip. His tentacles flapped about

in futility, and suddenly the mountainside where he had beenclinging was gone, and he was falling, unable

to stop himself orhelp himself in any way. Gravity had taken over, pulling himdown. He hit a protruding

cliff and tumbled off it, hearing things break inside him and not wanting to think about what they were.

Then he landed hard on an outcropping.

For just a scintilla of a second, he thought he actually mightbe able to survive. Not that he had the

slightest idea how he was going to get down off the mountain, considering that he was al-ready losing

feeling below his neck. But he reminded himselfthat it was important to worry about one thing at a time.

However, the entire issue became academic as the giganticpile of rocks tumbled around and upon him.

He let out a lastshriek of protest, frustrated that something so unfair and capri-cious was happening at the

moment of what should have beenhis greatest triumph.

Fortunately, the rock slide left his head unscathed. Unfortu-nately it wasn 't quite as generous with the

rest of him. His bodywas crushed, the pain so massive and indescribable that hismind simply shut down,

unable to cope.

And so as it happened, from his vantage point on the ledge,Hiller was able to see the cause of his death

with his own eyes. They were huge ships, smaller than the gargantuan cruisers hehad seen on news

broadcasts, but larger than the one-to-onefighters that were so popular with the local military.

The style, however, was unmistakable.

"Centauri," he whispered. Whispering was all he could manage,and even then it would have been

incomprehensible to anyonewho was listening.

The Centauri ships moved off at high speed, heedless of thedamage they had already left in their wake.

Amazingly, theclouds seemed to part for them, as if with respect. Each ship pos-sessed four curved fins,

jutting at right angles to one another,knifing through the sky. He was able to see, far in the distance onthe

horizon, one of Mipas' largest cities. The ships were goingright for it. The velocity with which they were

moving was stag-gering. One moment it seemed as if they were near the moun-tain; the next they were

practically over the metropolis.

They wasted no time at all. Their weaponry rained deathdown upon the city. Hiller watched helplessly,

his body dying all

around him, his vision becoming dark. Because of the distanceinvolved, he saw the flashes of light that

indicated that the citywas being fired upon, and some seconds later, the sounds wouldreach him faintly,

like far-off thunder.

It made no sense. Why would the Centauri attack Mipas? Theyhad harmed no one. They were neutral.

They had no enemies,nor did they desire any.

As the world faded around him, his mind cried out to the godswho had not chosen to present

themselves, "Why? We have not hurt them! We never could, never would hurt them! What pos-sible

reason could they have? "

And then the words of his friends reverberated through hisbrain just as that organ shut down for good.

His final neuronsand synapses answered his own question with another-onethat made ironic sense:

" Why climb a mountain.. . ?"

EXCERPTED FROMTHE CHRONICLES OF LONDO MOLLARI

-DIPLOMAT, EMPEROR, MARTYR,AND

SELF-DESCRIBED FOOL.

PUBLISHED POSTHUMOUSLY.

EDITED BY EMPEROR COTTO.

EARTH EDITION, TRANSLATION © 2280

Excerpt dated (approximate Earth date)

May 14,2274.

It is with some degree of shock and personal disappointment that I must con-clude that I am losing my

mind. I know this because, for the firsttime in. . .well...ever, I must admit...I actually felt sorry for Mariel.

Mariel, for those who have trouble keeping track of all the many players in thesediaries, is my former

wife. She is also the current wife of our inimitable-thank the Great Maker, for if he were capable of being

imitated, I think I would have gone mad sooner-prime minister, the noble Durla. It has never surprised

me that Mariel at-tached herself to him. She has that way about her. Mariel attaches herself to indi-

viduals of power in the way that the remora affixes itself to the stork.

For a time she was with Vir Cotto, my former attache and current ambassador toBabylon 5. Fortunately

enough for him, he lost her in a game of cards. I wasshocked at the time. Now, in looking back, I can

only wonder why I thought of it as anything less than Vir's good fortune.

More recently, I was walking past the rather elaborate quarters Durla keeps forhimself in the palace

these days. (Back when he was simply Minister Durla, the min- ister of Internal Security, he maintained

his own residence elsewhere. Since being made prime minister, he has relocated to the palace itself. This

is an option open to whoever holds the rank, but most have not chosen to avail themselves of it. Durla,

however, is not like most others. He immediately took up residence in the palace and, in doing so, sent

me a very clear message, that I shall never be rid of him. Thathe has, in fact, set himself a goal that is no

less than that of becoming emperor.

Not that he would admit it, of course. There are moments when he directly challenges me, but he always

does so subtly, then backs off as rapidly as he can. For someone with such power and dominance, he is

really quite craven. Itsickens me.

I wonder why it sickens me. I should be thanking what I foolishly refer to as mylucky stars, for if he had

a core of genuine mettle inspiring him, then he would beunstoppable. Durla, however, remains a bully

even to this day, and bullies are cow- ards. He may have gone quite far in our society, but no matter how

far one goes, one cannot avoid bringing oneself along.So...

I was walking past Durla's quarters, and I heard what seemed like choked sob-bing emanating from

within. Ironic that after all this time, I still carry within me some vague aspect of the gallant. There were

guards on either side of me, as there so often are. My aide, Dunseny, was also walking with me.

Dunseny, the aging-and-yet-ageless retainer of the House Mollari, used to be quite a bit taller than I was,

but he had become slightly stooped with age, as if his body felt obliged to make some concession to the

passing years. He actually noticed the sound a heartsbeat before I did. It was the slowing of his pace that

drew my attention to it.

"There seems to be a problem," I observed, hearing the sounds of lamentation. "Do you think it requires

my attention?"

"I do not know, Highness," he said, but fie did so in a way that basically carried with it the word "Yes."

"We can attend to it, Highness," one of two guards who stood at Durla's dooroffered.

"You?" I said skeptically. "You attend to things by shooting them. That is not a criticism, but merely an

observation, so please take no offense. Far be it from me to offend someone who shoots things.

However, I believe I can handle this onmy own."

"On your own, Highness?" the other guard asked."Yes. On my own. The way I used to do things before

others did them for me."Offering no further comment, I entered without knocking or ringing a chime.

Passing through the entryway, I found myself in an elaborately decorated sittingroom, filled with statuary.

Durla had acquired a taste for it. I felt more as if I were walking through a museum than a place where

people actually dwelt. On the far side of the sitting room there was a high balcony that offered a

spectacular view of the city. I had a not dissimilar view from my own throne room.

Standing on the balcony, leaning against the rail, and looking for one moment as if she intended to vault

it, was Mariel. Normally her face was made up quite ex-quisitely, but in this instance her mascara was

running copiously. The smeared

makeup left trickling splotches of blue and red on her cheeks that gave her entireface the appearance of

a stormy sky at daybreak.

Upon seeing me, she gasped and made a vague effort to try to clean herself up. All she did was make it

worse, smearing the makeup so grotesquely that she looked like some sort of painted harridan from a

stage drama. "I'm...I'm sorry, Highness," she said desperately, her efforts to pull herself together failing

mis-erably. "Did we have...I wasn't expecting a visit from..."

"Calm yourself, Mariel," I said. I pulled a cloth from the inside of my gleaming white jacket and handed it

to her. As an aside, I cannot tell you how much I despise the traditional white of the emperor's garb.

Michael Garibaldi, my erstwhile asso-ciate on Babylon 5, once referred to it as an "ice cream suit." I do

not know exactlywhat he meant by that, but I doubt it was flattering. I could not blame him, though; there

is little about it that I find commendable.

"Calm yourself," I said again. "We had no appointment. I was simply passing by and heard someone in

distress. There are so many distressed individuals out there," and I gestured toward the cityscape. "I

cannot attend to all of them. But at the very least, I can help those who are within these four walls, yes?"

"That's very kind of you, Highness."

"Leave us," I said to my guards. Dunseny, ever the soul of proper behavior,good tact, and common

sense, had waited in the corridor. "Leave you, Highness?" They appeared uncertain and even suspicious.

"Yes."

"Our orders from Prime Minister Durla are that we are to remain by your side at all times," one of them

said. I would record here any distinguishing characteristics he exhibited,for the sake of reference, but I

cannot. My guardsmen were some-thing of a homogenous lot. The aforementioned Mr. Garibaldi called

them the "Long Jockey Brigade," I believe. I am no more conversant with the term "long jockey" than I

am with "ice cream suit," but I will say this: Mr. Garibaldi certainly had a colorful way of expressing

himself. "Your adherence to orders is commendable," I said."Thank you, Highness."

"However, you overlook two things. Prime Minister Durla is not here. And I am.Now get out, before I

command you to arrest yourselves."

The guards glanced at each other nervously for a moment, then wisely hastenedinto the hallway. I turned

my attention back to Mariel. To my surprise, she actually seemed to be smiling slightly. Even laughing

softly. "'Arrest yourselves.' Verydroll, Highness."

"With all that has passed between us, Mariel, I believe 'Londo' will suffice." "No, Highness," she said

simply. "I believe it necessary always to rememberyour station and mine."

A remarkable attitude. "Very well. Whatever makes you more comfortable." I took a few steps around

the room, arms draped behind my back as if I were on an inspection tour. "So...do you wish to tell me

precisely why you are so upset?"

"I see little point, Highness. It's nothing. A passing mood."

"Has Durla been abusive to you in any way?"

"Durla?" The thought seemed to amuse her even more than my passing com-ment had, moments earlier.

"No, no. Durla, in point of fact, is not really here enough to be considered abusive. He is busy these

days. Very busy." She looked down, apparently having suddenly taken great interest in her hands. "I do

not be-grudge him that. There is a great deal for him to do."

"Yes, yes. Destabilizing the region and sending our world spiraling toward cer-tain destruction can be

very time-consuming, I should think."

She seemed surprised by my tone. "He is your prime minister. I would think he carries out your wishes

and desires. He serves Centauri Prime, and youareCentauri Prime."

"Yes, so I hear. The emperor is the living embodiment of Centauri Prime. Aquaint notion. A grand

custom. I think I like the sound of it more than I do the prac-tice." I shrugged. "In any event, Durla does

what Durla wishes. He no longer con- sults with me, or even needs me." I looked at her askance. "Or

you, I should think. Is that the reason for the tears? That you miss him?"

"Miss him?" She appeared to consider that a moment, as if the thought hadnever before entered her

head. If she was feigning contemplation, she was doing a superb job. "No," she said thoughtfully. "No, I

do not think I miss him...as muchas I miss myself."

"Yourself?"

She made to reply, but then stopped, as she appeared to reconsider her words.Finally she said, "I think

of where I intended my life to be, Highness. I had plans, believe it or not. There were things I wanted to

do when I was a little girl...not es-pecially reasonable, all of them, but I..." She stopped and shook her

head. "Iapologize. I'm babbling."

"It is quite all right," I told her. "In all the time that we were married, Mariel, I do not think we actually

spoke in this manner."

"I was trained to say all the right things," she said ruefully. "Speaking of one's disappointments and

shortcomings-that wasn't deemed proper for a well-bredCentauri woman."

"Very true. Very true." And I waited.

Again, I must emphasize that I bore no love for this woman. I looked upon this interaction with a sort of

detached fascination; the way one looks with curiosity at a fresh scab, impressed that such a crusted and

nauseating thing could ap-pear on one's own body. In speaking with Mariel, I was-in a way-picking at a

scab. Then, since she didn't seem to be volunteering any information, I prompted, "So... what things did

you wish to do? As a young girl, I mean?"

She half smiled. "I wanted to fly," she replied.

I made a dismissive noise. "That is no great feat. A simple ride in-"

"No, Highness," she gently interrupted. "I do not mean fly in a vessel. I wanted ..." And the half smile

blossomed into a full-blown, genuine thing of beauty. It reminded me of how it was when I first met her. I

admit it. Even I was stunned by her beauty. I did not know then, of course, the darkness that the beauty

hid. But who am I to condemn others for hiding darkness?

"I wanted to fly on my own," she continued. "I wanted to be able to leap high, wave my arms, and soar

like a bird." She laughed in a gentle, self-mocking way."Foolish of me, I know. I'm sure that's what you're

thinking..."

"Why would I consider it foolish?"

"Because such a thing isn't possible."

"Mariel," I said, "I am the emperor. If you had asked anyone who knew me-or, for that matter, if you

had asked me directly-what the likelihood was of such athing coming to pass, I would have thought it to

be exactly as possible as your fan- tasy. Who knows, Mariel? Perhaps you will indeed learn to fly."

"And you, Highness? Did you indeed dream of becoming emperor?"

"Me? No."

"What did you dream of, then?"

Unbidden, the image came to my mind. The dream that I had not had until wellinto my adulthood. But it's

a funny thing about certain dreams: they assume such a state of importance in your mind that you start to

believe, retroactively, that theywere always a part of your life.

Those powerful hands, that face twisted in grim anger. The face of G'Kar, with but one eye burning its

gaze into the black and shredded thing I call my soul, and his hands at my throat. This dream had shaped,

defined, and haunted my life for, itseemed, as far back as I could remember.

"What did I dream of?" I echoed. "Survival."

"Truly?" She shrugged those slim shoulders. "That doesn't seem such a loftygoal."

"I had always thought," I said, "that it was the only one that mattered. I would have placed it above the

needs of my loved ones, above the needs of Centauri Prime itself. Now..."I shrugged." It does not seem

to be such an important thing. Survival is not all that it is reputed to be."

There was a long silence then. It was very odd. This woman had been my enemy, my nemesis, yet now

it seemed as though she were another person en-tirely. Considering what I had faced, considering those

who desired to bring me

down...the machinations of one young Centauri female didn't seem worth theslightest bit of concern.

Not so young, actually.

I found myself looking at Mariel, really looking at her for the first time in a longtime. She was not

decrepit by any means, but her age was beginning to show. I wasn't entirely sure why. She was older,

certainly, but not that much older. She seemed... careworn somehow. She looked older than her years.

"Strange," she said slowly, "that we are talking this way. With all that has passed between us,

Lond-Highness-"

"Londo," I told her firmly.

"Londo," she said after a moment's hesitation. "With all that we have been through...how odd that we

would be talking here, now. Like old friends."

" 'Like,' perhaps, Mariel. But not actually old friends. For I shall never forget who I am...and who you

are...and what you did to me."

I wondered if she would try to deny that she had endeavored to kill me fifteen years earlier. If she would

bleat her innocence in the matter. Instead, all she did was shrug, and without rancor in her voice say, "It

was no worse than what youdid to me."

"Next thing, you will tell me that you miss me."

" It is impossible to miss what you never had."

"That is very true." I looked at her with even more curiosity. "You have not toldme why you were crying.

That is, after all, the reason I came in here. Was it indeed because you miss 'yourself'?"

She looked down at her hands with great interest. "No. Someone else."

"Who?"

She shook her head. "It does not matter..."

"I wish to know, nevertheless."

She seemed to consider her answer a long time. Then she looked over at me with such melancholy, I

cannot even find words for it. "I appreciate the time you've taken here, Londo... more than you can

know. But it really, truly, does not matter. What is done is done, and I have no regrets."

"Whereas I have almost nothing but regrets. Very well, Mariel." I rose andwalked toward the door." If,

in the future, you decide that there are matters you wish to discuss... feel free to bring them to my

attention."

"Londo..."

"Yes?"

"My dream is childhood foolishness...but I hope that you get yours."

I laughed, but there was no trace of mirth in my voice. "Trust me, Mariel...if there is one thing in this

world I am certain of, it is that, sooner or later, I will getmine. And sooner, I think, rather than later."

chapter 1

Luddig wasn't a particularly happy Drazi.

He did not like the building to which he had been sent. He didnot like the office within the building. And

he most certainlydid not like that he was being kept waiting in the office withinthe building.

Luddig was a first-tier ambassador in the Drazi diplomaticcorps, and he had fought long and hard to get

to where he was.As he drummed his fingers impatiently on the expansive desk hewas sitting beside, he

couldn't help but wonder why it was thatthings never quite seemed to work out the way that he wanted

them to.

Seated next to Luddig was his immediate aide, Vidkun. Theyprovided quite a contrast to one another,

Luddig being some-what heavyset and jowly while Vidkun was small and slim. Notthat Vidkun was a

weakling by any means. He was whipcord thinand had a certain air of quiet strength about him. Luddig,

on theother hand, was like a perpetually seething volcano that tended to overwhelm any who stood

before him with belligerence andbombast. As diplomats went, he wasn't particularly genteel. Thenagain,

he'd never had to be. His activities were confined mostlyto his office and occasional backdoor

maneuvers.

It was one of those activities that had brought him here, toCentauri Prime, to the place called the "Tower

of Power." It wasan impressive and elegantly simple structure that, when viewedfrom the ground, seemed

to stretch forever to the sky.

Luddig had not come here on his own, of course. It had beenset up meticulously and scrupulously in

advance. No one onthe Drazi Homeworld had been aware that he was corning toCentauri Prime ... well,

not "officially" aware. He had broughtVidkun along primarily to have someone to complain to.

"This is how they treat Luddig of the Drazi!" Luddig said indisgust. He was one of those who chose to

affect the popularDrazi habit of referring to himself in the third person. "An hour and a half we wait," he

continued. "Waiting and waiting in thisstupid room for this stupid minister." He cuffed Vidkun abruptlyon

the shoulder. Vidkun barely reacted. By this point in his ca-reer, he scarcely seemed to notice. "We had

a deal!"

"Perhaps you should remind him of that, sir," Vidkun saidwith exaggerated politeness.

"Remind him! Of course Luddig will remind him! Drazi donot have to, should not have to, tolerate such

poor attention toDrazi interests!"

"Of course not, sir."

"Stop agreeing!" Luddig said in annoyance, striking Vidkunonce more on the shoulder. Since it was the

exact same place, itleft Vidkun a bit sore, but stoutly he said nothing. "You keepagreeing. It shows you

are trying to mock Luddig!"

Vidkun tried to figure out if there was any conceivable way inwhich he could respond to the accusation.

If he said it wasn'ttrue, then he'd be disagreeing and thereby disproving the con-tention. Except he'd be

calling Luddig a liar. If he agreed thatwas what he was doing, Luddig would shout at him that he was

doing it again. Vidkun wisely chose to say nothing at all, insteadinclining his head slightly in

acknowledgment without actuallyproviding any admission one way or the other.

Clearly Luddig was about to press the matter when, with mi-raculously good timing, Minister Castig

Lione entered.

Lione was a tall man whose build and general look borderedon the cadaverous. He had such gravity

about him that he could have used it to maintain a satellite in orbit, Vidkun mused. Thenhe noticed several

of the black-clad youths known as the Prime Candidates following Lione, dropping back and away from

theminister as he walked into his office. Vidkun came to the conclu-sion that Lione already did have

satellites. They were the youthof Centauri Prime, and as near as Vidkun could tell, the best andthe

brightest. Their loyalty to Castig Lione was reputedly un-yielding and unwavering. If Lione had told them

to break everybone in their bodies, they would do so and do it willingly.

Vidkun did not, as a rule, like fanatics. If nothing else, theytended to be a bit too loud for his taste.

"Ambassador Luddig," said Lione, bowing deeply in respect.For a man of his height, bowing was no

easy thing. Luddigshould have appreciated the gesture. Instead he scowled evenmore fiercely. Vidkun

rose and returned the bow, and got anotherquick physical rebuke from his superior. "To what," continued

Lione, "do I owe this honor?"

"This honor." Luddig made an incredulous noise that con-veyed contempt. "This honor. This treatment is

more like."

"Treatment?" His eyebrows puckered in confusion. "Wasthere a problem with your arrival? My Prime

Candidates weregiven specific instructions to provide you full protection in es-corting you from the port. I

cannot, of course, account for the re-actions your presence might engender among our populace."

"It has nothing to do with that-"

Babylon 5 - 15 - Legions of Fire - Book III - Out of The Darkness

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