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Volume 1: The Other Half of my Soul
Part VII: Transformations
Chapter 1
AND so, it begins.
Kosh Naranek, personal observation.
* * * * * * *
Hail, Holy One. Hail, Sinoval. Hail, Holy One.
Sinoval. Satai of the Grey Council. Entil'zha of the Rangers. Warleader of the Wind Swords clan. Shai Alyt of the jihad against the Earthers. A long list of titles. More than enough for most people. Branmer himself had borne only two of the four Sinoval currently held. Many lived and served their whole lives without gaining even a fraction of the power or respect Sinoval wielded, and they were happy with their status.
Sinoval was not.
He dreamed.
He dreamed of walking in the footsteps of Valen, and Varmain, and Durhan, and Branmer. He dreamed of reaching out his hand and touching the stars. He dreamed of leading his people to the gates of Z'ha'dum and tearing them down. He dreamed of bringing light to the darkness.
He dreamed, and now his dream was near to reality. There was only one obstacle, the same obstacle that had impeded him countless times before.
Her name was Delenn.
The period of mourning for Dukhat's death was over, and the Grey Council was set on choosing his successor. For over ten cycles, since even before Dukhat's death, it had seemed set that Delenn would stand where Dukhat had stood. She had been his chosen at a time when Sinoval had not even stood amongst the Nine.
But things had changed. Delenn had been gone almost a whole cycle, vanished when Starkiller Sheridan had made his escape. Whether she had been captured or had gone willingly was not known. Although Sinoval found it hard to believe she had gone with the Starkiller of her own will, it suited him to remind others of that possibility. Some were even starting to believe what he did not. These false beliefs were growing in strength ever since the encounter almost half a cycle ago, at the planet called Epsilon 3, where the Trigati had clashed with Sheridan's ship, the Babylon. The second in command of the Trigati, Alyt Deeron, had reported receiving word from the Babylon that Delenn was aboard, even receiving communications from Delenn to back away and leave the planet. Sinoval had publicly denied all knowledge of this, but privately suspicions were starting to grow, especially when the ease of Starkiller's escape was brought up. Sinoval knew the truth, of course, or at least as much of the truth as he could. He hated such rumours, but he let them run. It suited his greater purpose.
Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved. An old Minbari saying, one that he had heard in his first foray into the Dreaming, as he was initiated into the Grey Council. He repeated it silently to himself, changing it slightly.
Delenn must be sacrificed if the Minbari are to be saved.
Only a few weeks ago a warrior, Kalain, had been appointed as temporary replacement for Delenn, the full nine being needed to vote on a leader. This had been a hard-fought victory on Sinoval's part, but well won. And now he was mere inches from his greatest triumph.
So near and yet so far.
The Grey Council wanted proof, one way or the other. Lennann and Rathenn had been screaming for action ever since Delenn had disappeared, but other, wiser heads were able to talk them down about the danger and the risk involved to rescue one who was surely either dead or a traitress. And besides, without Delenn, her sycophant followers were of no importance.
Part VII: Transformations
Chapter 1
AND so, it begins.
Kosh Naranek, personal observation.
* * * * * * *
Hail, Holy One. Hail, Sinoval. Hail, Holy One.
Sinoval. Satai of the Grey Council. Entil'zha of the Rangers. Warleader of the Wind Swords clan. Shai Alyt of the jihad against the Earthers. A long list of titles. More than enough for most people. Branmer himself had borne only two of the four Sinoval currently held. Many lived and served their whole lives without gaining even a fraction of the power or respect Sinoval wielded, and they were happy with their status.
Sinoval was not.
He dreamed.
He dreamed of walking in the footsteps of Valen, and Varmain, and Durhan, and Branmer. He dreamed of reaching out his hand and touching the stars. He dreamed of leading his people to the gates of Z'ha'dum and tearing them down. He dreamed of bringing light to the darkness.
He dreamed, and now his dream was near to reality. There was only one obstacle, the same obstacle that had impeded him countless times before.
Her name was Delenn.
The period of mourning for Dukhat's death was over, and the Grey Council was set on choosing his successor. For over ten cycles, since even before Dukhat's death, it had seemed set that Delenn would stand where Dukhat had stood. She had been his chosen at a time when Sinoval had not even stood amongst the Nine.
But things had changed. Delenn had been gone almost a whole cycle, vanished when Starkiller Sheridan had made his escape. Whether she had been captured or had gone willingly was not known. Although Sinoval found it hard to believe she had gone with the Starkiller of her own will, it suited him to remind others of that possibility. Some were even starting to believe what he did not. These false beliefs were growing in strength ever since the encounter almost half a cycle ago, at the planet called Epsilon 3, where the Trigati had clashed with Sheridan's ship, the Babylon. The second in command of the Trigati, Alyt Deeron, had reported receiving word from the Babylon that Delenn was aboard, even receiving communications from Delenn to back away and leave the planet. Sinoval had publicly denied all knowledge of this, but privately suspicions were starting to grow, especially when the ease of Starkiller's escape was brought up. Sinoval knew the truth, of course, or at least as much of the truth as he could. He hated such rumours, but he let them run. It suited his greater purpose.
Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved. An old Minbari saying, one that he had heard in his first foray into the Dreaming, as he was initiated into the Grey Council. He repeated it silently to himself, changing it slightly.
Delenn must be sacrificed if the Minbari are to be saved.
Only a few weeks ago a warrior, Kalain, had been appointed as temporary replacement for Delenn, the full nine being needed to vote on a leader. This had been a hard-fought victory on Sinoval's part, but well won. And now he was mere inches from his greatest triumph.
So near and yet so far.
The Grey Council wanted proof, one way or the other. Lennann and Rathenn had been screaming for action ever since Delenn had disappeared, but other, wiser heads were able to talk them down about the danger and the risk involved to rescue one who was surely either dead or a traitress. And besides, without Delenn, her sycophant followers were of no importance.
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