Something's Coming (S2, B5, fic)
Finally, I have finished my quest to write a story for each and every episode of the second season of Babylon Five. Woo hoo!
Something’s Coming
Season 2: The Coming of Shadows
The past tempts us, the present confuses us, and the future frightens us
And our lives slip away, moment by moment, lost in that vast, terrible in between.
But there is still time to seize that one last fragile moment
To choose something different, to make a difference, as you say,
And I intend to do just that.
The young woman fled down the corridor, white robes fluttering out behind her. Her soft-soled slippers made only a whispery shuffle on the tiled floors. Her breath came in smothered gasps and with each muffled noise she looked behind her as if expecting pursuit. Turning down a narrow passageway she slid along the draperies that lined the cold stone, white among the gold, avoiding the windows lining the outside wall. Reaching the door at the end of the corridor she hesitated, then knocked softly, calling urgently, ”Lady! Lady Morella!”
“Come in,” came a calm and authoritative voice from behind the door.
Casting one more wary glance behind her, the woman turned the handle and entered the room.
“Sit down, my dear. You’re flushed. I’ve just made some tea.” The older Centauri woman, clad in black silk and dark purple velvet, sat bolt upright on a straight-backed chair with a gilt frame and embroidered cushions of red and gold.
“My Lady, you’ve heard?” The girl’s hands clutched at the filmy robes that covered her from head to toe.
“About my husband, the Emperor? Of course. Liana, you were there, with your sister telepaths when …”
The younger woman interrupted, “I know. I was there when the Prime Minister Malichi informed you of our beloved Emperor’s passing. It’s not that.”
“You are referring to the suggestion to elevate my beloved sister-son Cartagia, that moron, to replace Emperor Turhan? Someone dropped by to tell me of that brilliant move by the Senate earlier today.”
Lady Morella got up slowly, her body stiff and encased in the heavy robes of official mourning, and moved towards the ornate golden kettle that stood on a table in one corner of her apartment. As the third wife of Emperor Turhan she had her own suite in the Palace, which she occupied when visiting the capitol city. Her main residence was an estate a few hours out in the countryside, in the same district from which her family came. She wasn’t close to her extended family, but had a genuine love for the area and its people. She planned to return there and remain there, once the first official period of mourning was over, and especially if Cartagia was crowned. The remaining cycles could be observed away from the cesspit that was the Imperial Court.
Liana remained silent but almost vibrated with tension, awaiting the requisite ceremony that attended tea with the relict of an Emperor in silence. She quickly sat in the nearest chair, balanced on the edge as if ready to flee.
Lady Morella placed glass cups chased with silver filigree on a silver tray. Looking over at the girl, her gaze sharpened and she left the preparations and approached the young woman, pale behind her veil. She pushed away the fabric from her face with one hand and tilted the girl’s chin up with the other. “Something else has happened, Liana? Some new disaster?” Weariness edged her voice. It had been terrible the last few months. Turhan’s growing weakness, his death so far from home, the behind-the-scenes movement to place Cartagia on the throne, Malichi’s ineffectual efforts to maintain control-she had no interest in politics any more. Not with her beloved husband gone from her, may the Gods bring rest to his tortured soul.
Liana’s eyes brimmed with tears. “It is the Prime Minister, Lady.” Her voice quavered. “They have killed him. Malichi is dead, and Cartagia will be on the throne by morning.”
Morella closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. Malichi had been a friend to Turhan, and to herself. A good friend throughout her introduction to court, he had guided her and advised her and now he was dead. She sank down into the chair next to Liana, taking the girl’s hand in her own, gripping it tightly.
“There is more, Lady,” sobbed Liana. “They have banned us from court, my sisters and myself. The others, they are preparing to flee. They will go to the main temple in the city. I thought you should know, that you might be able to do something to stop this!”
Lady Morella shook her head, and put her hand to her forehead, suddenly even more weary. “My child, I can do nothing. I have no power outside my own district and precious little there.”
“But you are the keeper of Turhan’s memory now! As his only remaining wife, your status will rise as he ascends to Godhood.” Liana’s tears dried as she urged her vision of the future on the older woman.
But Lady Morella closed her eyes and looked down at the marble floor, as cold as her heart had grown. Her mind, slowed by pain and regret, stuttered into action as Liana’s words sunk in. “I must go. Now.” She rose to her feet, and looked down at Liana. “You must flee with your sisters. The temple priests will protect you.”
Liana interrupted her, fierce with contradiction. “I wish to accompany you, my Lady. I have seen something dark, and evil. Something is coming to our world. We will all be put through fire in the coming years. The Emperor’s vision must be preserved if we are to survive.”
Morella stared at Liana in calculating appraisal. She nodded, once, then said, “Very well. But we must go quickly before anyone thinks to prevent us.” She moved towards a comscreen hidden behind an ornate mirror. “I will summon my personal guard. Leave your belongings; I know you have little of your own.” The screen flickered to life, revealing a young impassive guard in royal livery. “Ready my flyer, Pell. We leave within the hour. Send someone to my rooms to pick up my things. There will be two of us, and you, and the rest of my personal guard. We are going home.” A smile flashed behind the guard’s eyes and he nodded, as she blanked the screen with a wave of her hand.
“Now my dear,” Lady Morella said to Liana. “You may tell me of your visions while I pack. I must ensure that my beloved Turhan’s dreams, and his people, can survive the coming storm.”
Something’s Coming
Season 2: The Coming of Shadows
The past tempts us, the present confuses us, and the future frightens us
And our lives slip away, moment by moment, lost in that vast, terrible in between.
But there is still time to seize that one last fragile moment
To choose something different, to make a difference, as you say,
And I intend to do just that.
The young woman fled down the corridor, white robes fluttering out behind her. Her soft-soled slippers made only a whispery shuffle on the tiled floors. Her breath came in smothered gasps and with each muffled noise she looked behind her as if expecting pursuit. Turning down a narrow passageway she slid along the draperies that lined the cold stone, white among the gold, avoiding the windows lining the outside wall. Reaching the door at the end of the corridor she hesitated, then knocked softly, calling urgently, ”Lady! Lady Morella!”
“Come in,” came a calm and authoritative voice from behind the door.
Casting one more wary glance behind her, the woman turned the handle and entered the room.
“Sit down, my dear. You’re flushed. I’ve just made some tea.” The older Centauri woman, clad in black silk and dark purple velvet, sat bolt upright on a straight-backed chair with a gilt frame and embroidered cushions of red and gold.
“My Lady, you’ve heard?” The girl’s hands clutched at the filmy robes that covered her from head to toe.
“About my husband, the Emperor? Of course. Liana, you were there, with your sister telepaths when …”
The younger woman interrupted, “I know. I was there when the Prime Minister Malichi informed you of our beloved Emperor’s passing. It’s not that.”
“You are referring to the suggestion to elevate my beloved sister-son Cartagia, that moron, to replace Emperor Turhan? Someone dropped by to tell me of that brilliant move by the Senate earlier today.”
Lady Morella got up slowly, her body stiff and encased in the heavy robes of official mourning, and moved towards the ornate golden kettle that stood on a table in one corner of her apartment. As the third wife of Emperor Turhan she had her own suite in the Palace, which she occupied when visiting the capitol city. Her main residence was an estate a few hours out in the countryside, in the same district from which her family came. She wasn’t close to her extended family, but had a genuine love for the area and its people. She planned to return there and remain there, once the first official period of mourning was over, and especially if Cartagia was crowned. The remaining cycles could be observed away from the cesspit that was the Imperial Court.
Liana remained silent but almost vibrated with tension, awaiting the requisite ceremony that attended tea with the relict of an Emperor in silence. She quickly sat in the nearest chair, balanced on the edge as if ready to flee.
Lady Morella placed glass cups chased with silver filigree on a silver tray. Looking over at the girl, her gaze sharpened and she left the preparations and approached the young woman, pale behind her veil. She pushed away the fabric from her face with one hand and tilted the girl’s chin up with the other. “Something else has happened, Liana? Some new disaster?” Weariness edged her voice. It had been terrible the last few months. Turhan’s growing weakness, his death so far from home, the behind-the-scenes movement to place Cartagia on the throne, Malichi’s ineffectual efforts to maintain control-she had no interest in politics any more. Not with her beloved husband gone from her, may the Gods bring rest to his tortured soul.
Liana’s eyes brimmed with tears. “It is the Prime Minister, Lady.” Her voice quavered. “They have killed him. Malichi is dead, and Cartagia will be on the throne by morning.”
Morella closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. Malichi had been a friend to Turhan, and to herself. A good friend throughout her introduction to court, he had guided her and advised her and now he was dead. She sank down into the chair next to Liana, taking the girl’s hand in her own, gripping it tightly.
“There is more, Lady,” sobbed Liana. “They have banned us from court, my sisters and myself. The others, they are preparing to flee. They will go to the main temple in the city. I thought you should know, that you might be able to do something to stop this!”
Lady Morella shook her head, and put her hand to her forehead, suddenly even more weary. “My child, I can do nothing. I have no power outside my own district and precious little there.”
“But you are the keeper of Turhan’s memory now! As his only remaining wife, your status will rise as he ascends to Godhood.” Liana’s tears dried as she urged her vision of the future on the older woman.
But Lady Morella closed her eyes and looked down at the marble floor, as cold as her heart had grown. Her mind, slowed by pain and regret, stuttered into action as Liana’s words sunk in. “I must go. Now.” She rose to her feet, and looked down at Liana. “You must flee with your sisters. The temple priests will protect you.”
Liana interrupted her, fierce with contradiction. “I wish to accompany you, my Lady. I have seen something dark, and evil. Something is coming to our world. We will all be put through fire in the coming years. The Emperor’s vision must be preserved if we are to survive.”
Morella stared at Liana in calculating appraisal. She nodded, once, then said, “Very well. But we must go quickly before anyone thinks to prevent us.” She moved towards a comscreen hidden behind an ornate mirror. “I will summon my personal guard. Leave your belongings; I know you have little of your own.” The screen flickered to life, revealing a young impassive guard in royal livery. “Ready my flyer, Pell. We leave within the hour. Send someone to my rooms to pick up my things. There will be two of us, and you, and the rest of my personal guard. We are going home.” A smile flashed behind the guard’s eyes and he nodded, as she blanked the screen with a wave of her hand.
“Now my dear,” Lady Morella said to Liana. “You may tell me of your visions while I pack. I must ensure that my beloved Turhan’s dreams, and his people, can survive the coming storm.”