Текст книги "Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке.(ЛП)"
Автор книги: Гарэт Д. Уильямс
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Текущая страница: 33 (всего у книги 38 страниц)
"I am sure you have no interest in my answering that question."
"I am sure I already know the answer. It is a Keeper, a foul device created…. or harnessed by your associates. We have detected countless numbers of them upon our citizens here…. a legacy of the Drakh occupation, and of your passing. We checked out the other…. prisoners freed in the exchange. Two of them have disappeared, but the other three were all possessed by these Keepers.
"You have acted in considerably less than good faith, Ambassador…. and we reject your offers of peace, because we know they are false. We do not want war with either of your associates…. but if that is the only choice we have, then that we shall choose."
"I have full diplomatic immunity," he snapped quickly. "But in the grand scale of things, my life means nothing."
"Calm down, Ambassador," Delenn said slowly. "We will not harm you. Not because of your…. 'diplomatic immunity', but because we are better people than you." Taan Churok growled softly. "You have one hour to gather your belongings and leave Kazomi Seven. And after that, if you or any members of your staff are found within Alliance space…. you will not leave it alive.
"Am I clear?"
"Perfectly. In that case, I wish to make just one point." He looked around the table, pausing at each figure. "Brakiri. Drazi. Narn. Minbari. You are all dead. Each and every member of all your races. We offered you peace. We offered you assistance…. and understanding.
"There will be no peace now. Your choice. Not mine. Not ours. There will be no peace. There will be only death, and the worms and the rats will crawl through this room when we are done, and your Alliance of paper and string will consist only of the dead.
"A sad loss, to be sure. And an unnecessary one. But with you gone…. perhaps the other races will listen. No one ever said we could win all the time."
He turned and stalked from the room. When he was gone Delenn sat down, shooting a warning glance at Taan Churok as he leapt up. "No," she said. "We have given him an hour. Vejar…. I think you had better follow him…. Be sure he does not…. do anything inappropriate. If he is still on this planet after an hour, kill him."
The technomage nodded and left the room. The air seemed to crackle with each movement.
"We should have killed him," Vizhak said angrily. This was one of the few things he and Taan Churok had agreed upon since the Alliance had been founded.
"We should never let our enemies live," growled his Drazi companion.
"We are not murderers," Delenn said firmly. "And this Alliance will not be built upon the callous shedding of blood. But it seems we will have to prepare for war. Ambassador G'Kael, will you be able to arrange a meeting for me with G'Kar? I had…. hoped he would be here."
"He wished to…. avoid too firm a link with the Alliance. Precisely to avoid this sort of situation."
"Well, the Alliance and the Rangers are moving in the same direction now. As we should have been from the start."
She sat back in her chair and looked around at the other members. "Well…. we have lasted over a year, and but for two major battles it has been a peaceful time. I am very much afraid that none of us will ever see peace again in our lifetimes."
Vizhak muttered something in the Drazi language, and Taan Churok chuckled. Delenn took a moment to translate, and then she smiled sadly.
It was an old Drazi proverb. 'Peace comes only with the grave. Yours…. or theirs.'
* * *
"And how did the meeting go?"
"As…. well as could be expected, I suppose." Delenn looked at G'Kar carefully. He had spent the last few months slowly recovering from his injuries. She had spent as much time as she could with him, but that had been sadly very little. The business with the Alliance, the peace talks and…. John had kept her away. A shame. She felt there was much to learn from this Narn. He had somehow embraced an inner peace that had escaped almost everyone else. In all the galaxy, he alone was sure of his place, and his direction.
And now he was running around, packing, behaving with considerable energy.
"I would have liked you to have been there."
"Ah…. no. You did fine without me, from the sound of it." He stopped, and looked at her carefully. "You are sure about this choice? It will not be an easy war."
"Wars never are," she replied sternly. "But yes, I am sure. I want peace, yes…. but not the peace we would have had by surrendering to them."
"Hah! Exactly. But still…. things will be difficult. They have a considerable start on this, but all is not yet lost. We have allies out there. All we need do is find them."
"Allies? Such as who?"
"Well…. before the battle I would have said Mr. Bester…. but it seems that particular relationship has well and truly run its course. Oh well…. but even without him, there is Primarch Sinoval, if no one else. If we can get him on to our side…. then…. In him we could have the greatest friend we will ever need, or the worst enemy. And Emperor Mollari, of course.
"I do not think we are anywhere near as alone as it might seem."
"Perhaps. I…. You look as if you are preparing to leave."
"Oh, I am."
"Was it…. something I said?"
"No. I have…. certain obligations to various allies and contacts I acquired before entering the Machine. I spent two years trapped in metal and rock, and now my body is my own again. It is time I started fulfilling my obligations. There are people I have to see, and things I have to do…. and I have to do them alone."
"You cannot leave now! Your injuries…."
"I can see…. I can speak, I can touch, I can walk and I can think. I need nothing else."
"We need you. We need your Rangers."
"Ta'Lon will fill in here for me. He is a good man, and he will lead the Rangers some day…. if not all of Narn."
"A prophecy, G'Kar?"
"Simple wisdom. It is something we all have, but few of us know how to use. All the knowledge I have gathered is with him, and he will be able to use it just as well as I could. And…. he will follow you."
"Me?"
"Of course. Neroon would have followed you anywhere. And Ta'Lon will honour his friend's memory. Neroon loved you deeply, and Ta'Lon will honour that love. As do I."
"Neroon…. yes. I…. I have missed him."
"We all have, but he is with us, Delenn. All of the fallen are."
She blinked, and smiled slowly and sadly. "Where will you go first?"
"Hmm…. There is an old Narn legend of the prophet G'Quan, that when he went seeking wisdom, he first went into the lair of the…. ah, it is hard to translate. Humans have legends of beasts called 'dragons', I believe…. and they are as close as any other. G'Quan went into the lair of the dragon on the first stage of his quest for wisdom. And so shall I."
"And where will you find this…. dragon?"
He smiled. "Centauri Prime, of course. Where else?"
* * *
"She does not love you. She will never love you. Not while he is there."
"Do you think I don't know that!?"
Sonovar smiled, dancing slowly around Kozorr. He had spent the last few months observing his fighting style, noting the adjustments made to compensate for his injuries. Kozorr had developed something new, and very interesting. But as for Sonovar's other purpose, that was working as well.
"Tell me about Sinoval," he said slowly, making sure to keep just out of reach of Kozorr's charge. That shortened pike of his could make a very deadly stabbing weapon, but it lacked the range of a full denn'bok.
"What is there to tell?" He was not moving very far. His weak leg saw to that. No, Kozorr had become the rock, sure and steady, willing to let the enemy come to his ground, come to where he could deal with them. "You know him just as well as I. He trained you, after all."
"Indeed he did. But the Sinoval I know is long gone. Maybe he died when we besieged Earth, or maybe a little afterwards. Or maybe it was during our attack on the Earthers at Proxima. It doesn't matter. The Sinoval who trained me would never have done the things this…. Primarch Sinoval has done."
"He is the same person he always was."
"You think? Tell me, Kozorr…. what were your feelings when you heard he had been made Holy One…. leader of our Grey Council?"
"I…. What does it matter?"
"Then I will tell you what you thought." He darted inwards, lashing out at Kozorr's legs. The shortened pike came down in a strong parry and then darted out in a riposte. Sonovar dived back, and only just dodged the attack. "You were exultant, overawed…. at last a warrior had come to lead us again. Our greatest warrior. We would be strong as a people, triumphant over our enemies. No more would we suffer the whining platitudes of the priestlings or the weak-willed inferiorities of the workers.
"We would be the strong, the brave, the mighty.
"We were betrayed."
Kozorr was silent, moving slowly and stealthily, each motion an economy of effort. His face was expressionless.
"Shagh Toth in our highest counsels. The Grey Council destroyed. Our world in ruins. The return of the Prophet cast aside as a mere rumour. A worker one of his most trusted allies, setting policy for warriors born! Sinoval has betrayed us!"
Kozorr's eyes flashed with anger. He had a weakness, and it was Sinoval's worker whore. Sonovar had seen that long ago. He did not despise Kozorr for his feelings, but he did despise Kats for manipulating them.
"Kats is as much a warrior as we are. She merely follows a gentler way."
Sonovar chuckled. "Ah, Kozorr," he said, straightening. "I know of your feelings for her, and there is nothing wrong with them. But not even you can claim that a worker belongs in a position of authority such as she holds. She is Sinoval's pet…. and she will never love you the way you love her."
"That…. does not matter to me."
"Why do you follow him anyway? He has betrayed us all. Do you honestly agree with everything he has done? Shagh Toth? Fleeing from Minbar and leaving it for the enemy? Are those the deeds of our great warrior leader?"
"He…. had…. reasons."
"Of course he did. But are they our reasons? Are they the reasons of the true warriors, or the motives of a power-hungry traitor?"
"I follow him because I swore I would. As you say, he is a warrior, and…. while I do not agree with all he has done…. he is a warrior, and my leader."
Sonovar smiled, and nodded. "Then help me make him the leader we all want him to be. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than to see a true warrior leading us. I want only to ensure that happens."
"He is a true warrior."
"You think? Help me, Kozorr. Help me make me the leader we all want."
"I…." He bowed his head. "I concede the fight to you. Let me return to my cell."
A dry chuckle. "Of course. But first…. some refreshment?"
Exactly on cue Forell shuffled into view, bearing a tray containing two goblets. Sonovar was not sure how he had known the priestling was there. He simply…. had. He was somehow getting a feel for where he was.
"I bring you your elixir, my lord," Forell said humbly. "And…. something for your guest?"
Sonovar grabbed one of the goblets and held it to his mouth. The liquid inside was a thick, red elixir. It smelled of something he could not quite identify. He paused slightly and lowered it, acting on an impulse he could not quite understand.
"Where are my manners?" he asked. "A glass for you, my guest?"
"I am not thirsty."
"You should drink, my lord," Forell said. "It is a medicine of sorts."
"I…. Ah, very well." He pointed to the goblet in Sonovar's hand. "I will take that one," he said seriously.
"It is not poisoned, I assure you," Sonovar said, handing it over. "What would be the point of that? But yes, here you are." He took up the second drink and downed it. It tasted…. sweet. Very sweet. It was also slightly warm.
Kozorr sampled his delicately. Once he was sure that Sonovar had finished his, he drank it all and handed the goblet back to Forell. "What was that?" he asked.
"A refreshing and invigorating serum from my home, my lord. I was born in a small village on Owari Nine. A herb grows there in the mountains, and it was made into this drink to benefit our warriors."
"Well, Kozorr…. you wanted to return to your quarters."
"I think…. I think I am ready for another sparring match. Tell me more about your intentions for Sinoval."
* * *
Well. It was over. He had failed.
He was not angry. Well, not much. He had not been expecting a great deal, to be honest, and he had thought this a fool's errand from the start. Too much influence on Delenn from the other side. Without her…. the rest of the Alliance might be swayed, but as it was….
Oh well. Things were shaping up. Battle lines were being drawn across the galaxy. The Alliance on one hand. Humanity on the other. The Narns were still undecided, and negotiations were still going on amongst the Centauri. The…. other side had one of their representatives there, but then there was an eminently practical man fairly highly placed who was willing to make deals with Z'ha'dum.
And then there were the undecided. The tiny worlds. The small, little empires. The Sh'Lassan Triumvirate. The Gaim. The Vree. The Hyach. The Abbai. Either members of the Alliance but with very little tie, or completely neutral. All small, easily snapped up by whichever side chose to go for them.
But there was one thing none of them could count on. The cosmic wild card. Sinoval. Influencing him to join either side was a futile effort. Oh, not that they hadn't tried. The other side had attempted assassination, but…. there had been other ways, originating from Z'ha'dum. They had failed so far, but…. things were progressing well enough.
How long did he have left? An hour, Delenn had given him. Hmm…. no, they would not be likely to let him see John again. A shame. He wanted to see his son again. It might be for the last time. Delenn would not be at all interested in coming to get the cure now. Well, if she saw what the cure was doing to certain Minbari, she would not want it anyway.
He sighed. He missed John. He was all that was left of his family. A man should always have a reason for fighting, for striving. Oh, the betterment of the race, liberty, fraternity, equality, freedom…. all of these were good buzzwords and slogans, but he knew that none of them meant anything. A family. Blood. Love. They were things worth fighting for.
So why was he still fighting? Why hadn't he retired and gone back home to die in peace, and be free from all the errors of his past?
He had another reason for pursuing this war. Something else he had said when asked his fatal question.
"What do you want?"
Peace. My family safe. An end to the nightmares. My people safe.
And revenge on the ones who did this to us.
With a soft sigh, David Sheridan fixed the memory of his son and only surviving child in mind as he went to catch the shuttle that would take him away from John's deathbed.
* * *
Someone else was at John's deathbed, someone who had just begun a terrifying war that would no doubt create many more deathbeds, and ensure that there were too many people to fill them.
As she looked at him, Delenn gently touched his forehead. He was sleeping. At least she thought so. His skin was very hot, almost painful to the touch, but she kept contact with him. Before long she would lose the chance.
"Delenn?" he whispered at last. "Are you…?"
"I'm here," she said softly in reply. His eyes flickered open. They were bloodshot and haunted.
"Had…. dreams…. Dreaming now…. See…. things…."
"What things?" she asked. According to the reports she had received, Kalain had been delusional for many months as the virus coursed through his system. He might well have suffered hallucinations.
John chuckled softly; a hideous sound, entirely devoid of laughter. "My…. Dad…. I…. saw…. my Dad…. He was…. working for…. for…. them…." The sweat was standing out on his brow. "A…. stupid…. dream…. wasn't it?" The last two words were a plaintive cry.
Delenn blinked away tears. "Yes," she lied softly, thereby making the second greatest mistake of her life, one that would be even harder to atone for than the first. "Yes. It was just a dream.
"Just…. a dream."
* * *
The next day the new Vorlon Ambassador came before the Council of the United Alliance. He gave his name as Ulkesh Naranek, and Delenn shivered as she recognised him from a long time ago, another life. Lyta walked before him, as his herald. He had been here for some time, and he had been waiting. Waiting for the mortal beings to make their own choice as to where they stood.
Elsewhere, Ambassador David Sheridan returned to Z'ha'dum and reported his failure sorrowfully to his superiors. He provided as full reports as he could on all the members of the Council, save one. The report on Delenn of Mir was left to his aide, the one person who had once known her better than anyone else alive. Neroon's analysis was most comprehensive.
Captain Dexter Smith went out into the cities of Proxima 3, and inevitably found himself among the people of his old home. Sector 301. The Pit. It had changed very little since he had last seen it. He found an apartment and lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling long into the night.
On Centauri Prime, Mr. Morden met with an old acquaintance, and was delighted to hear that Vir Cotto had gone up in the world slightly since their last meeting. Much was said about Emperor Mollari and about Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar. Meanwhile, Lord-General Marrago and Minister Durano continued their graceful, elegant dance around each other, gambling their lives, their future and their planet on who would win their little contest for power over the other.
Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar was somewhere out in deep space, making preparations for his arrival on Centauri Prime. He was somewhat surprised to discover that Mr. Morden was already there.
Alfred Bester sat alone in his dark chair, thinking about the day when Sanctuary would become anything but.
Kozorr and Sonovar spoke long into the night; about Kats, about Sinoval, about the Soul Hunters, about honour and duty and the warrior's code. By the time the night was over, Kozorr had unwittingly agreed to Sonovar's plans. It would merely take a little longer to reinforce the suggestions. Forell hung ever-attentive in the background.
Ulkesh Naranek spoke of war.
And somewhere in deep space, at a vital crossroads on a Brakiri trading route, four Shadow vessels shimmered out of hyperspace and attacked the three Brakiri trading ships they encountered there.
There were no survivors.
Gareth D. Williams
Through Darkness and Fire
What is one life worth? What is one soul worth? And who must pay the price? The war has begun, and Delenn is faced with a most difficult choice by the new Vorlon ambassador. An offer of salvation is made, but is it too much for anyone to pay? Elsewhere Sinoval encounters the sting of treachery, and the war comes to Centauri Prime, bringing with it a great fire and a terrible Darkness.
Chapter 1
Their tactics are seemingly without rhyme or reason. There is no logical pattern to their choice of targets. Of this I am certain. The worlds that have come under fire so far have no distinguishing characteristics. There is no progression from one area to another; no discernible goal; no readily ascertainable purpose.
The respected representatives from the other clans will no doubt regard this as inadequacy on my part, and far be it from me to presume to compare myself to the wisdom of such people, but if I may reach above myself for a moment, I believe I have a theory.
None of us has been able to discern an overall strategy to the actions of the race we have dubbed 'Shadows'. We know that they are not a haphazard race in general, because when it comes to a direct engagement there are clear, well-defined tactics and very precise attack formations. They have tactics, they merely lack a strategy.
I believe their strategy is nothing but the spreading of chaos. They exist to create fear in our minds, to disrupt and damage, but not to destroy.
My lords, I do not think they want us dead. On the contrary, they want us alive, but…. directed in some way. They want us to panic, to blame each other for our lack of skill, to sow doubt and dissension. Their reasons for this, alas, I have not been able to determine, but then I am just a simple warrior and such things are doubtless beyond me. Perhaps the revered Shalma Drekenn may be able to enlighten me.
What is clear is that they have some purpose for us, and I for one have no intention of letting them accomplish it….
An excerpt from A Report upon the War, by Parlonn, Warleader of the Fire Wings clan, presented before the Gathering of Fanes in the city of Tuzanor, in the third year of the last great Shadow War.
[This report was declared highly seditious in light of Parlonn's later actions and was sealed in the Great Archives in Yedor following the conclusion of the war. All copies were lost when the Library was destroyed by human bombardment in the Earth Year 2259.]
* * *
They came from nowhere, simply appearing, shimmering into view. There were three of them, black and sinister, shadows against the night sky.
The crew of the two Drazi ships knew full well what they were, and they were not afraid. Perhaps these…. mysterious aliens had been able to defeat the Brakiri expeditionary force sent out against them, but what could you expect from Brakiri anyway? This crew were Drazi, and they were true warriors. After all, hadn't they fought these…. Shadows already? At Epsilon 3. They had survived that, and they would survive this.
The first Sunhawk was sliced in pieces by the first Shadow ship. Its crew died without the chance even to scream. The other soared forward, firing its forward ion cannons. The Shadow dodged the blast effortlessly and rose above the warship.
An instant later, the second Sunhawk was gone.
The three Shadow vessels departed from normal space, none so much as scratched, leaving behind them only the wreckage and the dead.
* * *
The images faded, and Delenn sighed softly. So many dead, so many lives annihilated in a mere split second. Such a tragic waste, and it had been she who had arranged their deaths. Oh, refusing the Shadows' false offers of peace had been the only course of action, but ultimately it had been her decision. She had made it, and these people had died as result.
There was a gentle hush amongst the members of the Council. Delenn's first glance was to Vizhak and Taan Churok, the two Drazi members. They had been here from the very beginning, and they had each served the Alliance well. But they were still Drazi, and some things remained no matter how much time was spent among aliens.
"We will send more ships," Vizhak announced. "And we will keep sending ships until these Shadows are all destroyed."
"You can send all the ships you like," Delenn said softly. "You will only create more of the dead. The Enemy is too powerful for that. They are also too quick. You saw yourself just how the ambush turned around there. Did both ships have telepaths?"
The two Drazi looked at each other, and then proceeded to find many things of interest in the papers before them.
Delenn sighed again, rubbing at her eyes. She had not slept well last night. Not at all. "Telepaths are the only real weapon we have against the Shadows," she said. "You both know this. Why then were those ships not provided with telepaths?"
"It is easy for you," Vizhak said, looking up. His tone of voice was faintly apprehensive. "Minbari have many telepaths. Drazi have few. We do not breed as many telepaths as Minbari do, and those we have are…. needed. Our laws do not bind them. They are not soldiers. We cannot command them to go to war."
"We have…. some telepaths here," she said.
"Yes. Minbari telepaths. Brakiri telepaths. One human telepath. None of those can serve on Drazi ship. Only Drazi serve on Drazi ships."
"I was on one of your ships," she pointed out. Twice, in fact, at Minbar and at the Third Line. The Drazi had been most eager to have her aboard the Stra'Kath, their flagship.
"You are leader," she said. "You lead Drazi. You speak for Drazi to aliens. You are different."
She did not know whether to be flattered or not. She had certainly been given worse compliments. Her general mood, however, left no time for recognising the absurdity of the situation. "The fact is, Vizhak…. without telepaths we stand little chance against the Shadows. At Epsilon Three we had the advantage of knowing they were coming, of setting defences, of time to prepare. We cannot do that this time, and if we simply fly around waiting for them to appear, then we will share the same fate as those two ships."
"At least we try," spoke up Taan Churok. "Kazomi Seven is as safe as we can make it. Is fortified, is strong, is safe…. but other worlds, other peoples, other ships…. We cannot protect them all. So we try to deal with Shadows. We try…. where are others?"
"We have hardly been idle," Delenn replied. "We have been trying to establish a strategy, so that we can understand the enemy. Ambassador Sheridan made it clear that we, the Alliance, would bear the brunt of the Shadows' attacks, and so far that has appeared to be the case, but their attacks have been against your individual worlds…. not against any Alliance holdings. Why? We have to understand what they want first."
"We know what they want. To destroy us."
"We try to fight them, Delenn," said Vizhak. "Is Drazi way."
"There is another concern," spoke up another voice, and all eyes turned to Lethke, Minister for the Economy. The Brakiri was a calm-spoken man, precise and used to thinking clearly before speaking. "We have among us, here in this very city, one who knows more about the Shadows than anyone else can hope to. He promised us his aid and the assistance of his people when he arrived. But he has done nothing. For three weeks he has done nothing. He is not even here now.
"Where is Ambassador Ulkesh?"
"He was invited to this meeting, as he has been to every other," replied Delenn, a slow chill spreading through her body. There was a great deal about Ulkesh that she disliked. He was very…. different from the Vorlon who had shared her mind and soul for so many years, the Vorlon who had given his life in the temporal rift.
And she was not the only one who felt like that. The technomage Vejar had been conspicuously avoiding Ulkesh ever since his arrival. And Lyta…. Delenn's friend had changed greatly in the three weeks since the new Vorlon had come to Kazomi 7. Delenn wished she had had more of a chance to talk with her recently, but she had been so busy….
There was something that kept Ulkesh from these meetings, and for some reason she could not identify, and certainly could not rationalise, Delenn had the very uncomfortable feeling that that something was her.
I've been listening to Sinoval too much,she thought uneasily. To be certain, the warrior detested Vorlons with every fibre of his being, and after his revelations at the Rebirth Ceremony at the beginning of the year Delenn understood something of why, but did that mean his paranoid suspicions were true? Previously she had disbelieved them all, but since meeting Ulkesh again….
"Then what do we do?" asked Vizhak. "Sit here and wait to die? Is not Drazi way."
"No, we do not just sit here, but we do not send our ships out to be pointlessly butchered either. We formulate a plan, and we force the confrontation on our terms. That is as soon as we are ready. Commander Corwin…. do you honestly think we can defeat the Shadows?"
The young human shuffled in his seat awkwardly. He had been invited to all the meetings of the Alliance Council since the Battle of the Third Line, but he had only started coming with the advent of the open attacks by the Shadows. Of everyone here, with the possible exception of Ta'Lon, he had the most experience of fighting the Shadows directly.
"There's no denying their superiority," he said, after a moment's hesitation. He was clearly uncomfortable. "Technological, that is. Some of their tech was put into the Babylonby the Resistance Government…. not as much as was built into the later ships, but still a little. We've been going over it as best as we can, and what we've found isn't very…. um…. reassuring.
"Their ships are organic in nature, at least partially. They're very resistant to damage. It can be done, though, with great difficulty. We've all seen that. Telepaths seem to be our only real advantage against them. Each time we've fought them…. something has happened to swing the battle in our favour.
"At Proxima Three it was the arrival of a Vorlon fleet. At…. Epsilon Three, the Great Machine helped us as much as it could, and when it…. exploded it took some of their ships with it." He fell silent, and Delenn looked down. When the Great Machine exploded it had taken something else with it as well. Commander Corwin's great friend Michael Garibaldi. And it looked as though it would take his Captain as well.
"I'd…. ah…. rather not spend all my subsequent battles with the Shadows praying for a miracle. Besides, if we take anything near the losses we took at Epsilon Three, another couple of battles like that and we won't have any ships left to pray for miracles with."
"Then…. what do you recommend?"
He was very quick, and blunt. "Get the Vorlons here to help us now. Because without them, we don't stand a chance. None at all."
Delenn sighed again. Exactly as she had thought. Sometimes she hated being right.
* * *
G'Kael seldom thought much about the future. As far as life in the army and in the lower circles of the Kha'Ri went, he was lucky if he had time to think about the present. However, if he had given much thought to where the path of his destiny would take him, he would never had believed it would lead to Kazomi 7, and to the position he now held.
Ambassador. A fine title in theory, but a hollow one in practice. The Kha'Ri had little time for this Alliance, being far more preoccupied with the war against the Centauri, and they had responded to the Council's offer of representation with hearty guffaws. Eventually, however, they had accepted the need to have someone here, even if only to serve as a spy, and a quick series of suggestions had thrown up G'Kael's name.
