"And you're not worried about that anymore?"

  "Why should I be?" Vir said reasonably. "They have David. I doubt Sheridan's going to order a strike on a world when it would ensure the death of his son."

  "Pretty damned cold-blooded of you, Vir."

  "I've had to make some pretty cold-blooded choices in recent years, Mr. Garibaldi. You get used to it." He sighed. "Perhaps I should have gone public sooner. By allowing them to dwell in the dark, I've let them fester and grow. But exposing them might well have meant the death of my people. With any luck, though, we'll be able to have it both ways now. We've mustered enough resistance that the Drakh can be revealed for what they are will out it amounting to a death sentence for Centauri Prime."

  "You told me to trust you," Garibaldi said, stabbing a finger at Vir. "You told me to let you handle things. To let the Centauri solve the problems of Centauri Prime. And I've been doing that. But it's no longer just the Centauri's problem. It's John Sheridan's problem, and Delenn's."

  "I'll handle it."

  "Vir!"

  "I said I'll handle it," Vir repeated firmly. "I'm heading to Centauri Prime right now. I've spent years-years of planning and preparing, of risking my neck and the necks of others-and it's all coming to a head. The fact that David was taken is just further indication of that. The Drakh want vengeance ... but more than that, they also want insurance. But all the insurance in the world isn't going to help them against someone they don't know is their enemy. Someone they think of as a patsy, a fool."

  "I'm coming with you."

  "Now you're the fool," Vir said. He walked over to Garibaldi and put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll get David back for you, Michael. But we have to do it our way."

  "Who is we?"

  "The Legions of Fire."

  Garibaldi looked at him oddly. "What?"

  Vir smiled thinly. "I've found Earth history as interesting as Londo does. There are all sorts of end-of-the-world scenarios, did you know that? And one of them-from your Norse, I think it is-describes the world ending when a giant fire demon, Surtur, sweeps the world with his sword and cleanses it of all evil. That's what the Legions of Fire are going to do, Michael. We're going to sweep Centauri Prime clean of the blackness that's been upon it for so long. We're going to expose the Drakh presence to the rest of the galaxy. That way, we can point to those who are truly responsible for the fate of Centauri Prime. Prove that it's the Drakh who should be blamed .. . and that this prolonged campaign of resentment and aggression has been aimed at the wrong people. That it should be stopped."

  "And you really call yourselves the Legions of Fire."

  "Do you have a better name? " Vir asked, mildly annoyed. "We could call ourselves 'Vir's Victory Squad' or 'Cotto's Crusaders,' but that might tip off who's in charge."

  "No, no, it's fine. Legions of Fire. Fine." Garibaldi took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Vir ... he's my godson ... and Sheridan and Delenn are my best friends in the galaxy..."

  "And believe it or not, I'm your second best friend," Vir said.

  - chapter 16 -

  "I'll get the job done, and David home safely. You have my word."

  "I didn't used to think that meant a lot," Garibaldi said, and then he shook Vir's hand firmly. "But now I believe it does."

  By the time Garibaldi returned to Minbar, Sheridan and Delenn were gone.

  Durla could not recall a time that he had wanted to cry tears of pure joy the way that he did at that moment. It was just as it had been in his dream. In fact, it was all he could do to make sure that he was not asleep. There were ships everywhere. Everywhere. The skies above the spaceport were filled with them. The ground was likewise thick with ships preparing to take off. They had come from all over, a few at a time, assembling on the only planet that seemed appropriate: the world designated K0643. The site of the failed excavation program had remained for him a stain on his otherwise perfect record. Now, however, he was prepared to erase that stain by using this backwater, nothing world as the jumping-off point for the greatest campaign in the history of the Centauri Republic.

  The spaceport itself was nothing particularly wonderful. The buildings had been thrown together in a purely makeshift fashion. The command center, the barracks, all of them, shoddy construction. But they were serviceable, and that was the only important thing. All of the perfection of construction, all of the craft and abilities of the hundreds of workers who had brought this moment to fruition... that was what mattered.

  General Rhys and all of his command staff were assembled, with last-minute checks being made, final preparations being completed.

  "The jumpgate has been fully tested and is on-line, General?" Durla asked.

  Rhys nodded. "Absolutely, Prime Minister.

  "No chance of sabotage?" he said darkly. "It will not go well for anyone, General, if anything should go wrong while ships are going through."

  "I tell you, sir, it is impossible," Rhys stated flatly. "It cannot, will not happen."

  "Well, then," and Durla nodded with approval. "That's heartening to hear." He looked around at the others, all waiting for his words. Surprisingly, he found himself thinking of his brother, the one whose death he had arranged out of a fit of jealousy. From time to time he had found himself wondering whether he had done the right thing. Now there was absolutely no question that he had. He had achieved the pinnacle of success, and if it was over his brother's dead body, well... so much the better.

  "We all understand, then," Durla said. They all nodded. Naturally they did. And yet he couldn't help but outline the intent of the fleet again, simply because he loved the sound of it: the words, the plan, his own voice. All of it. "We intend to launch a multistage assault on the Homeworlds of ninety percent of the Alliance governments. The ten percent we are sparing are small and relatively helpless ... and besides, we're going to need to get our new workers from somewhere, so we'd best leave a few worlds intact, correct?" He laughed at this, and the others quickly joined in. They know what's good for them, he thought grimly, and continued, "If we strike hard enough, fast enough, we can immobilize them and pave the way for full-scale assaults on their holdings. This plan of attack will leave them powerless against further Centauri aggression."

  "Powerless," one of the captains echoed. "I like the sound of that." The others nodded in approval.

  "We have," he said proudly, "over three thousand vessels at our disposal. They represent the result of almost two decades of slave labor. Oh, the Alliance has had its suspicions, the rumors have floated about. But in the end-an end which is coming quite soon-they were too lazy, and we, too clever."

  "The Alliance does have more ships at its disposal," Rhys cautioned, clearly worried that his men might become overconfident. "The White Star fleet alone is a formidable one."

  "True," Durla admitted, but then added, "however, we certainly have the single largest armada belonging to one government. We need not worry about intergovernmental disputes, or differences of opinion on the best way to attack. We will operate with one mind and one purpose, and in doing that... we cannot lose."

  "Coordination is indeed going to be the key," General Rhys said. "Prime Minister, if I may ..." Durla gestured for him to continue. "You all have been given predetermined points in hyperspace that will provide you access to each of your respective targets. Fail-safe points, if you will. You will stay on point until everyone is in place. Then we will launch full, simultaneous strikes on all the targets at once. You will attack military sites, the capitals, and communication centers, cutting off all the Alliance worlds from one another, instilling fear, and dividing them in panic. Since the Centauri fleet outnumbers any other single fleet, we will be able to hit our enemies in waves, one after the other, before the Alliance can organize its scattered members into any kind of cohesive force." He took a deep breath, and said, "On receiving the go-codes from the prime minister, you will launch your assaults."

  There was a momentary confused look shared among the captains. One of
them said, "Not from you, sir?"

  "Do you not trust my judgment, Captain?" Durla demanded suspiciously. "1 did not say that at all, Prime Minister. It is just that, since this is a military operation.. ."

  "And the military operation has been sabotaged repeatedly," Durla pointed out. "With all respect to yourselves, and very much to General Rhys .. . the one person I know I can trust is me. It has been my vision, my drive that has brought us to this point, and my words will launch the attack. Is that understood? Do all of you understand that?" There was a chorus of "Yes, sir" from around the table. Durla nodded in approval. "Then, gentlemen... to work." As one, they rose from the table, filing out of the room and stopping only to congratulate the prime minister on his momentous achievement. At the last, General Rhys hesitated. "Prime Minister..."

  "It will be a masterpiece of coordination, General," Durla told him. In his mind's eye, he could already see it. "I am coordinating with Minister Vallko. He is going to be having one of his spiritual gatherings at the great temple. There, I will address the people, and speak to them of our capturing the glory that is Centauri Prime. We will stand on the brink of history ... and then I will transmit the go-codes. And the rise from the great blackness will begin."

  General Rhys looked as if he were about to say something, but then thought better of it. Instead he simply said, "It has been an honor to serve under you, Prime Minister."

  "Yes. It has, hasn't it."

  He was right. It was just like in his dream, a dream made into reality.

  Durla stood on a cliffside, and stretched out his arms as the ships roared to life and took off, one by one. And as each one swung by him, throbbing with power, they banked slightly in acknowledgment.

  They bowed to him.

  Just as everyone would. Sheridan and Delenn, who had by this point been informed of the whereabouts of their son, and were no doubt on their way to Centauri Prime. Once there, they would become public symbols of the humiliation that had been heaped upon the great Centauri Republic, and their fate would represent all the Alliance had to look forward to.

  And Londo ... well, Londo would probably decide that he had contributed all that he could to Centauri Prime. He would step aside willingly and name Durla as regent until such time that Londo's passing would ensure Durla's appointment as emperor. Then, of course, that time would come quite, quite soon.

  The skies were so thick with ships that they blotted out the sun. It was as if night had fallen upon Durla. An endless night of glory, waiting to swallow him. And he fed himself to it willingly.

  - chapter 17-

  "You should not have come here," Senna said as the small vehicle took them toward the palace. "Vir, this was not a good time..."

  "I had to," he said as the Centauri Prime spaceport receded into the background. "I stopped receiving communiques from Mariel. I lost track of where Durla's plans stood. I was..."

  "Concerned for her?" Senna asked.

  He nodded. "And not just for her... also for you, and Londo. And now apparently David Sheridan has been added to the mix. You knew about this?"

  She nodded, looking grim. "It's a terrible thing. He simply showed up. No one knew he was coming, not even Lione, and he was most upset about it. The only one who did not seem surprised was Durla. Sometimes I think nothing surprises him."

  "Oh, I think we can arrange a surprise or two for him," Vir said grimly. "Can you get me in to see Mariel?"

  "He's put her into seclusion. She's not allowed visitors."

  "So you can't."

  She smiled. "I didn't say that."

  Senna strode up to the two guards who were standing outside Durla's suite of rooms, and said firmly, "The emperor wishes to see you."

  They looked at one another, and then back to Senna. "Why?" one of them asked.

  "I have known the man for nearly half my life, and if there is one thing I have learned, it is never to ask why. Lately, he does not take well to that... if you know what I mean." And she put a finger to her temple and mimed a weapon being fired.

  The guards hesitated a moment. Senna crossed her arms and displayed her best look of impatience. "I do not think the emperor likes to be kept waiting."

  Durla had ordered that a guard be kept outside his suite at all times. But Durla was not around, and Senna was well known to be trusted by the emperor. Somehow it seemed that ignoring the emperor's wishes, as relayed by Senna, might prove to have a negative impact on their life expectancy.

  They bowed slightly to Senna and hurried off down the corridor.

  The moment they were gone, Senna whispered, "Vir!" In response to her summons, Vir hustled down the corridor to her side. "The door is sealed," she told him. "So I am not quite certain how we can get in..."

  Vir, looking utterly confident, pulled a small device from the interior of his jacket. He aimed it at the door, and it emitted a brief burst of noise. The door promptly slid open.

  Senna glanced at the device appraisingly. "Where did you get that?"

  "I move with an interesting group of people these days," Vir replied, and without another word walked into Durla's suite of rooms. Senna followed.

  He took a few steps in and then stopped. There, on the balcony, looking out at the city, was Mariel. At least, he was reasonably sure it was she. Her back was to him. "Mariel," he called cautiously.

  Mariel turned and looked at him, and it seemed as if she could scarcely believe what she was seeing. Nor could Vir entirely believe his eyes, either. The woman he had known, the vibrant, beautiful young woman, was gone. She had been replaced by someone whose face exhibited unending sadness, whose skin carried with it fading bruises that hinted of past atrocities.

  "Vir," she whispered, and ran to him. She threw her arms around him, held him tightly, kissed him with such ferocity that he actually had to apply strength to separate her from him. "Vir.. . you've finally come to take me out of here?"

  "Mariel, sit down."

  "Vir!" She allowed herself to be guided over to a chair. "You don't know how long I've waited," she said. "Is it finally over? When do we leave? I do not care that I am still married to Durla, I will go with you, do whatever you want..."

  She was speaking so fast, she was almost incomprehensible, and he gripped her firmly by the arms, kneeling so that they were on eye level. "Mariel... first things first. What is Durla doing? Where is he now?"

  "1 don't know," she said.

  "What is his timetable? Where stand the ships he's been working on? How close to completion are-"

  "I don't know, I don't know!" Her voice was rising, and Vir realized that she was rapidly coming to the end of her rope. "He doesn't talk to me anymore, doesn't tell me anything about anything! I don't know what his plans are, and I don't care anymore! I just want to be with you! The two of us, as it was always meant to be!"

  "Vir, this isn't getting us anywhere. We should go," Senna warned him in a low voice.

  "Vir, you can't." Mariel was clutching on to his arm, and all last traces of dignity, of strength, fell away from her. "Vir, you can't leave me here ..."

  "Mariel, it's not that easy. No harm will come to you, I promise, but I can't just take you out of here. We'll be noticed, we'll..."

  "I don't care! Don't you understand, Vir? All that I have endured, I have endured for you! My love for you, it is boundless, it is endless. Please, Vir, I will do whatever you ask, whenever you ask! I have done nothing but dream of you, night after night. Whenever I was in his arms, it was yours I imagined. His lips crushing against mine, but I felt them to be yours and took comfort from that! You are my everything, my-"

  "Stop it!" He felt as if what remained of his soul were being shredded. "Stop it, Mariel! You don't know what you're saying!"

  "Yes, I do! I have heard it in my head, night after night, when I dreamt of you coming for me. It is all that matters, it is the only thing, it-"

  "It s not real!"

  He had not expected to say it. He had not wanted to say it. For years, the guilt he had car
ried within him had given him no peace, but he had still been sure that he would be able to contain the dark truth of what he had done. What was to be gained from telling her? Nothing. And yet when the words burst from him, he knew it was because his presence in her life was a lie, and he could not allow her to live it anymore. It was the only chance she had of divesting herself from the hellish existence that she currently endured. He had to try to undo the damage he had done to her.

  She stared at him in confusion. "Not... real? What is not...real?"

  "This thing you ..." He took a breath and then turned to Senna. "Please ... I need to talk to Mariel alone. Please."

  Senna didn't understand, but she did not need to. "As you wish," she said, and she took Vir's hands in hers briefly and squeezed them. Then she walked quickly from the main room, the door shutting behind her.

  Vir went back to Mariel, took her hands in his, and said, "You're under a spell."

  "A spell." She repeated the words, but with no real comprehension.

  "A techno-mage named Galen put it on you, at my request. I was ... I was angry because 1 knew you had used me, to get in good with the other diplomats on Babylon 5.I knew you laughed at me behind my back. And I..." He looked down. "... I told myself that I had him do it to help the cause. So that I could bend you to my will, turn you back on the people who'd sent you to spy on me. But that was an excuse. I did it from petty revenge, and it was beneath me, and I've ruined your life, and I'm sorry. Great Maker, the words don't mean anything, but I am. I'm sorry."

  "Vir..."

  "Londo. Londo can help. He can grant you a divorce from Durla, and you can start over in a new life. We'll get you set up somewhere, I can-"

  "Vir, it's all right."

  He stopped talking and stared at her. "All right? How is it all right?"

  "I saw. I saw the way Senna looked at you, and you at her. How she held your hand a moment before leaving. You think," and she laughed, "you think that I would not want to share you. That my love for you is so overpowering that I would be jealous of other women in your life." She stroked his cheek. "If you want both Senna and me, that is perfectly all right. Whatever makes you happy..."