untitled1

Untitled #1

Author: Robt.

Notes: Written before Peter David wrote the Centauri Trilogy. Rated G.

Feedback definitely appreciated. rblond@juno.com

He was dressed in white and gold, and his magnificently crested hair, for years graying at the temples, was now almost completely white as well. He sat alone, as alone as he could ever be, anymore. The throne room was dark, lit only by the twin moons of Centauri Prime, shining through the windows. The light from those moons illuminated the Republic's capitol city, bathing it in silvery light, casting two shadows, darkest where they overlapped. Londo's city. Londo's world, wrapped in shadows.

It had been a beautiful city, and the Emperor knew every inch of it. Or had, at least, before the Narn and Drazi came. He had ordered the city, his city, rebuilt exactly as before, and the Emperor's orders were as law. Failure to follow them was punishable by death, so Londo Mollari was sure the city had been put back together, just as before. But he wouldn't really know it anymore. Like a lost love, met years later, he would recognize it all, seeing less change than he might expect to find in a past love after so much time. But like a past love, it was no longer his. Londo never went to the city anymore.

Londo walked to the balcony, and thought of jumping. He couldn't, of course, and wouldn't if he could, but the dread conjured by such thoughts kept the keeper preoccupied. There were other ways to clear the keeper from his thoughts.

Alcohol was Londo's favorite, but had to be used sparingly. The keeper was already forming a tolerance to Brevari that would soon rival Londo's own. Mathematical calculations could also give the keeper fits, and Londo enjoyed that. Unfortunately, Londo was not very good at maths. He smirked. Maybe that is what drives it so crazy, he thought, a chuckle turning into a dry, wracking cough.

Tonight, Londo was drinking. He lacked the patience for calculus.

It was almost dawn, and the larger moon was already sitting on the horizon, sinking fast. The smaller moon cast it's dim light down. It would set soon, too. It was becoming very dark out.

Londo thought again about the dream. G'Kar, his old foe and friend, in the throne room. Hands clenched around Londo's throat. It had been years since he'd last had the dream, and he'd thought that one destiny he'd cheated. But no, such was not to be. He was Centauri, and Centauri always knew their death. A great curse, he once thought. Now... death would be a gift. "A consummation devoutly to be wished..." he said, quoting some old Human fable or story he'd heard once, years before. And again, a dry, bitter laugh. What was the name of that story? he wondered. Hamnet, yes? Something like that.

Londo allowed his mind to wander. The dream, his death dream, back every night, for more than a week, now. The dream was a prophesy, but not the only one. One last chance for redemption, Morella had said. At the end. One last chance.

Londo was an old man. His life, he knew, would soon be over. There was only one redemption left that mattered to Londo now. The redemption of the Republic, freedom for the Centauri. That had to be what Morella meant.

G'Kar. He was a constant in the dream, but not the only one.

Sheridan, he knew, would be there, too. Somehow. And if Sheridan were coming here... Londo would be ready. He didn't know what he would have to do, how to accomplish his redemption. Better to not even make plans which the Drakh might "overhear."

But he would know his chance when it presented itself. It had to do with G'Kar. And Sheridan. Of that, he was certain. When they were both here, together, on Centauri Prime, Londo would know his course.

He would do what he must. Sacrifice everything, everyone he held dear, to drive the conquerors from his planet. No. Not everyone. Not Vir. Vir would be the next Emperor.

Cotto I! Great Maker! Well, Londo reflected, even Vir would be an improvement.

Londo smiled, and looked out over the city that was no longer his. It would never be his again, he knew, but soon, soon, it would be free. And so would he.



	Untitled #1 Author: Robt. Notes: Written before Peter David wrote the Centauri Trilogy. Rated G. Feedback definitely appreciated. rblond@juno.com He was dressed in white and gold, and his magnificently crested hair, for years graying at the temples, was now almost completely white as well. He sat alone, as alone as he could ever be, anymore. The throne room was dark, lit only by the twin moons of Centauri Prime, shining through the windows. The light from those moons illuminated the Republic's capitol city, bathing it in silvery light, casting two shadows, darkest where they overlapped. Londo's city. Londo's world, wrapped in shadows. It had been a beautiful city, and the Emperor knew every inch of it. Or had, at least, before the Narn and Drazi came. He had ordered the city, his city, rebuilt exactly as before, and the Emperor's orders were as law. Failure to follow them was punishable by death, so Londo Mollari was sure the city had been put back together, just as before. But he wouldn't really know it anymore. Like a lost love, met years later, he would recognize it all, seeing less change than he might expect to find in a past love after so much time. But like a past love, it was no longer his. Londo never went to the city anymore. Londo walked to the balcony, and thought of jumping. He couldn't, of course, and wouldn't if he could, but the dread conjured by such thoughts kept the keeper preoccupied. There were other ways to clear the keeper from his thoughts. Alcohol was Londo's favorite, but had to be used sparingly. The keeper was already forming a tolerance to Brevari that would soon rival Londo's own. Mathematical calculations could also give the keeper fits, and Londo enjoyed that. Unfortunately, Londo was not very good at maths. He smirked. Maybe that is what drives it so crazy, he thought, a chuckle turning into a dry, wracking cough. Tonight, Londo was drinking. He lacked the patience for calculus. It was almost dawn, and the larger moon was already sitting on the horizon, sinking fast. The smaller moon cast it's dim light down. It would set soon, too. It was becoming very dark out. Londo thought again about the dream. G'Kar, his old foe and friend, in the throne room. Hands clenched around Londo's throat. It had been years since he'd last had the dream, and he'd thought that one destiny he'd cheated. But no, such was not to be. He was Centauri, and Centauri always knew their death. A great curse, he once thought. Now... death would be a gift. "A consummation devoutly to be wished..." he said, quoting some old Human fable or story he'd heard once, years before. And again, a dry, bitter laugh. What was the name of that story? he wondered. Hamnet, yes? Something like that. Londo allowed his mind to wander. The dream, his death dream, back every night, for more than a week, now. The dream was a prophesy, but not the only one. One last chance for redemption, Morella had said. At the end. One last chance. Londo was an old man. His life, he knew, would soon be over. There was only one redemption left that mattered to Londo now. The redemption of the Republic, freedom for the Centauri. That had to be what Morella meant. G'Kar. He was a constant in the dream, but not the only one. Sheridan, he knew, would be there, too. Somehow. And if Sheridan were coming here... Londo would be ready. He didn't know what he would have to do, how to accomplish his redemption. Better to not even make plans which the Drakh might "overhear." But he would know his chance when it presented itself. It had to do with G'Kar. And Sheridan. Of that, he was certain. When they were both here, together, on Centauri Prime, Londo would know his course. He would do what he must. Sacrifice everything, everyone he held dear, to drive the conquerors from his planet. No. Not everyone. Not Vir. Vir would be the next Emperor. Cotto I! Great Maker! Well, Londo reflected, even Vir would be an improvement. Londo smiled, and looked out over the city that was no longer his. It would never be his again, he knew, but soon, soon, it would be free. And so would he.