From morden@dircon.co.uk Sun Dec 22 23:21:50 1996 Date: Sun, 15 Sep 1996 20:04:16 +0100 From: Thomas Morley To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Dead, All of Them" - Episode 1: House Politics - Teaser [The following text is in the "ISO-8859-1" character set] [Your display is set for the "US-ASCII" character set] [Some characters may be displayed incorrectly] This is set between "Passage Through Gethsemane" and "Dust to Dust" (theoretically), and Vir is on one of his regular visits. It is divided into multiple (I'm not gonna be any more specific than that, yet) episodes, each of which consists of a Teaser, four Acts, and, on the last one, a tag. Each episode uses the normal B5 opening music, but the closing music is from Track 10 of the B5 CD, from 6:53 to 7:26 (yes, that's the right length). I think that's everything. Oh, yes, you may wish to regard "Voice from the Past" by Jenny Hayward and the film "Highlander" as referents, but that's not at all necessary. Comments (if you have any to spare) to my usual address: If there are any errors, don't blame my beta readers...I haven't got any. Babylon 5 is a Copyright of PTEN Consortium. All characters not the creation of the Author belong to either JMS of Jenny Hayward. This story is Copyright @ 1996 of Thomas Morley. Rights will be surrendered to Babylonian Productions or Jenny Hayward upon request. This story may be distributed in any electronic or written format, but may not be used to create a profit without my consent (suuure....). So, without further ado.... *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* "Dead, all of Them." Episode One - House Politics Teaser *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The unfortunately-named Dodo was tall, well built, and head of a well-known Centauri house (or thought he was, but that's a long story). He was currently enjoying an interesting discussion with a representative of house Malachi about Minbari religion, though he knew it could not last much longer. Minbari religion was not something most Centauri could even pronounce (except during the rare times when they were sober), so finding a fellow-student on the transport was a stroke of good luck. For a while. "Identicard, please?" asked the officer, dressed in the neutral grey of Earthforce security. The Centauri complied, and watched as, like all humans, the officer scanned the card, placed an amused expression on his face, and returned it. "Thank you, sir. Next please?" Dodo had never been able to comprehend this inexplicable reaction he always got from humans, quite different from the reaction he received from other Centauri. He had examined his Identicard thoroughly, but to no avail. His companion cleared customs, and continued the conversation. *It won't be long now,* Dodo thought. "Of course, the legend of Valen is one of the most interesting. Though I do not doubt he existed, I have seen no theory that coompletely explains his sudden appearence, his knowledge of what was to come, and his reclusiveness on every seventh day." Dodo could lie, of course, but that would only make things worse when the truth was revealed. "I agree. I have seen some very odd theories. Some even think he travelled from the future, and had a nervous disorder which only manifested itself on days when the third moon of Minbar was aligned with the star Gamiode!" The other laughed, then spoke again. "I must leave you now, and go find some quarters. Perhaps we might continue this conversation later? I don't believe you gave your name." *What's the point?* Dodo wondered. He sighed, and replied in the traditional manner of his house. "I'm Dodo Maklood of house Maklood." The others demeanour changed instantly - Maklood was not surprised. "Perhaps not then. We may meet again, though I sincerely hope not." He walked away, his nose slightly lifted, unconcious of the fact that this was a perfect imitation of a human gesture that meant exactly the same thing. Even if he had known, he wouldn't have cared. Maklood watched his retreating back. The reaction was just what he had suspected. Perhaps he had expected a more amicable response from one of house Malachi; the late Prime Minister had been nothing but amicable towards his house, as had the late Emperor. He had no doubt their deaths were connected. Still, he should not have hoped for more than he got. He was used to it. Used to it! How could he be used to his house being universally despised by all other Centauri? How could he be used to being looked down upon, like something to be scraped off a boot? How could he.... He forced himself to calm down before he hit someone. He reaquainted himself with his surroundings, to find himself approaching the quarters his house had arranged for him - far from the area of the station usually designated for Centauris, so he would not feel their disgust seeping through the walls. He thought back to his former friend from the transport, and felt again his unequivocal loathing. But all that would change, he thought as he entered his room, smiling. Very, very soon. [FADE TO OPENING CREDITS] *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Relax! I know what I'm doing. I hope. [ [ <*> Thomas Morley ] ] <*> morden@dircon.co.uk [ [ <*> http://www.users.dircon.co.uk/~morden/convergence/ ] ] <*> "Yeah, I went to the rock to hide my face, [ [ <*> But the Rock Cried Out, No Hiding Place, ] ] <*> No hiding place, down here." From morden@dircon.co.uk Sun Dec 22 23:21:53 1996 Date: Sun, 15 Sep 1996 20:08:34 +0100 From: Thomas Morley To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Dead, All of Them" - Episode 1: House Politics - Act 1 [The following text is in the "ISO-8859-1" character set] [Your display is set for the "US-ASCII" character set] [Some characters may be displayed incorrectly] This is set between "Passage Through Gethsemane" and "Dust to Dust" (theoretically), and Vir is on one of his regular visits. It is divided into multiple (I'm not gonna be any more specific than that, yet) episodes, each of which consists of a Teaser, four Acts, and, on the last one, a tag. Each episode uses the normal B5 opening music, but the closing music is from Track 10 of the B5 CD, from 6:53 to 7:26 (yes, that's the right length). I think that's everything. Oh, yes, you may wish to regard "Voice from the Past" by Jenny Hayward and the film "Highlander" as referents, but that's not at all necessary. Comments (if you have any to spare) to my usual address: If there are any errors, don't blame my beta readers...I haven't got any. Babylon 5 is a Copyright of PTEN Consortium. All characters not the creation of the Author belong to either JMS of Jenny Hayward. This story is Copyright @ 1996 of Thomas Morley. Rights will be surrendered to Babylonian Productions or Jenny Hayward upon request. This story may be distributed in any electronic or written format, but may not be used to create a profit without my consent (suuure....). This /could/ be construed as containing spoilers for "Grey 17 is Missing", but they are absurdly minor, and consist of little more than you can guess from the title. Still, in the interests of self- preservation.... 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* "Dead, all of Them." Episode One - House Politics Act One *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Somewhere in DownBelow, a large amount of money changed hands. It was soon followed by a small number of poison-tipped Drazi knives going in the opposite direction. Mr Chase thoughtfully moved on to his next customer. * * * * "Vir," Londo began in his usual booming voice, "have you ever wondered why we are here?" "Here, Ambassador? What do you mean?" "Here. On this station. Suffering." "Well, I believe there are currents in the universe, eddys and tides that pull us one way or the other...." "Vir!" "Yes, Ambassador?" "Go away. You're disturbing my depression." "Very well, Ambassador," Vir replied, slightly affronted. "Actually, stay here. I need to help you with this report." "As you say, Ambassador," Vir replied again, getting mildly annoyed. *Vir do this, Vir do that, Vir jump through this flaming hoop.... Become Ambassador to Minbar. Gain power, status, wealth... but still get treated like dirt.* "Ambassador Mollari," the Computer interjected, in its typical lilting voice. "Yes," Londo replied in his usual aggreivated drawl. "You have a message." The two Centauri waited, but that was all the information the computer volunteered. "Well," Londo asked, exasperated, "who is it from?" "Unknown." "What do you mean, unknown?" "Unknown: One reference. Adjective. Unaware of. Unconcious of. For additional information, see references to...." "Stop!" Londo cried, "This hangover is bad as it is!" "Perhaps you should play the message, Ambassador." "Yes Vir, what a good idea. Perhaps I should play the message. Now why did I not think of that? Fah!" he finished sarcastically, then added, "Computer, play message." "Message is text only. Displaying." Londo and Vir stared at the message. It was short. "Ambassador Mollari," it read, "come to Brown 4 in one Earth hour. Come unarmed. Come alone. "Actually, come with as many people as you like. I don't care. "Yours sincerely, "A fellow Centauri." Londo and Vir looked at each other, then back at the message. * * * * Duncan MacLeod busied himself with the day-to-day business of the Centauri house he had recently (on his timescale) found himself the head of. Indeed, he had done little else for the past hundred years. Should an immortal have faced him now, he would be too out of practice to stand a chance against them...were it not for his aide, Cali, with whom he regularly sparred. True, a Kutai was no match for the swords his people used, but Cali wielded it well. He was also the only one who knew Duncan's true identity, and one of eighteen who knew he was head of house Maklood. Cali was not as young as he once was, and now took it all in his stride. As he read the reports from their planets (both of them) in the Euphrates sector, an aide entered, and informed him that Cali would like to speak to him. Duncan consented, and followed the Aide out. * * * * "Chess again?" Susan asked as she entered the arboretum. "Chess is a very spiritual exercise," Theo replied. "It broadens the mind." "Very true," the Narn opposite him added. "Remind me, how does this piece move again?" G'kar gestured at a piece so ornately carved Susan couldn't recognise it. Theo's explanation did little to enlighten her. "Ah, I see!" G'kar replied, who didn't. He then proceeded to castle with what appeared to be a Queen and a Bishop on the third file. "No, no," Theo exclaimed, "you can't do that with a Knight!" He then proceeded into a long explanation of castling, its uses and difficulties. "So, how are things on homeworld?" Susan asked. "Not good, I'm afraid," G'kar replied, simultaneously relieved at the escape, and dismayed at the reminder. "The price of arms is at an all time high, and our courier, who transported them to homeworld, met an unfortunate 'accident' on his last run. Mr Garibaldi is most distraught." Susan nodded, not understanding, but wanting it to appear that she did. G'kar returned his attention to the game, and was further confused by Theo's capturing of a pawn 'en passant'. Susan left as Theo tried to explain with a metaphor of ships leaving hyperspace, and being destroyed before they could react. G'kar did not seem amused. * * * * "I still say this is a bad idea," Vir reiterated as they approached Brown 4. "Vir! Stop going on. What could possibly go wrong?" "Something unexpected." "Fah! I can cope with the unexpected." Vir looked back at the group of eight elite Centauri guards following them. "Maybe." There was a pause in the conversation. "What if it's your wife?" Vir enquired. "What do you think the guards are for, eh?" Vir decided not to risk saying any more. He never knew when Londo was joking.... * * * * A collection of insectoid aliens scuttled around the level of Grey sector they used as a base. Their plan had been under developement for a long time. A very long time. They were a very contemplative species. This was, in part, what had caused them to lose the last war. However, it did allow them the possibility of extensive preparation. When the Babylon project was conceived, they developed a plan to conceal a level of the station to hide and wait in. They sneaked in during construction, and were able to reprogram lifts and adjust wall signs, so a level of the station completely disappeared. They were discovered by a dockworker, and had to make a snap decision (only ten earth minutes) to blow up the station. They repeated their attempts with the second and third stations, but in each case were discovered, and forced to destroy their work. The fourth station was their greatest loss - when it disappeared, it took many of their brightest minds with it. Many mourned that day, and it was decided that a new strategy must be devised. If there had been an observer in this level, they would have observed that the number of creatures coming and going was far larger than it had at first appeared. With the fifth station, they waited until the station was complete, then proceeded to erase a level from existence. During a period when the station was not very full, a common condition at the time, they reprogrammed the allocation computer so that there was no-one berthed in the lower levels of Grey sector. Then, one night, all the lower levels of Grey sector were moved down one. Wall signs were exchanged, lifts reprogrammed, and sensors adjusted. Overnight Grey sector lost a level. The insectoid aliens set up a variety of traps to catch the unwary entering the level, and gradually Grey Seventeen became a hive of activity. The Humans who later moved into the sector were not a problem for the aliens, who simply retreated deeper into the level. By now the observer would have realised what he was seeing - an ill-equipped army preparing for war. If there were an observer. But there wasn't. * * * * Londo very much wanted to appear unafraid, but he was painfully aware that his dramatic striding into Brown 4 bore more resemblance to a cowering shuffle. Still, he determined to be magnanimous about it. "Hello?" he called, quietly, "Is there anyone here?" Then he noticed the glint of metal on the floor. Warily, he approached it, until he was close enough to recognise it. It was a Kutai. Londo began to get a sinking feeling. A spotlight snapped on. "Ambassador Mollari?" an unknown voice called. *Why did they bother with spotlights here?* Londo wondered as he shielded his eyes. "Yes?" he replied aloud. A figure stepped so he was visible. Londo immediately recognised the face of the head of clan Maklood. He had a Kutai sheathed on his belt. "Londo Mollari, by the rules and customs of our people, I, Dodo Maklood of house Maklood, challenge you to the Morrargo, the duel to the death." He drew the Kutai. "I assume you will accept." Londo just kneeled, numb. "The Morrargo will take place here, in 48 cycles." He smiled broadly. "Don't be late." With that he vanished, and the spotlight cut out, leaving them in darkness. Londo and Vir looked at each other. "Well," Vir considered, "that could have gone better." "Vir," Londo began. "Yes, Ambassador?" "Shut up." [FADE TO BLACK] *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Wait! Don't delete this message! The similarity to Knives is only superficial! Too late. Trust me.... [ [ <*> Thomas Morley ] ] <*> morden@dircon.co.uk [ [ <*> http://www.users.dircon.co.uk/~morden/convergence/ ] ] <*> "Hello. You must be Delenn. I'm [ [ <*> Anna Sheridan. John's wife." ] ] <*> From morden@dircon.co.uk Sun Dec 22 23:22:17 1996 Date: Sun, 22 Sep 1996 14:21:33 +0100 From: Thomas Morley To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Dead, All of Them" - Episode 1: House Politics - Act 2 [The following text is in the "ISO-8859-1" character set] [Your display is set for the "US-ASCII" character set] [Some characters may be displayed incorrectly] This is set between "Passage Through Gethsemane" and "Dust to Dust" (theoretically), and Vir is on one of his regular visits. It is divided into multiple (I'm not gonna be any more specific than that, yet) episodes, each of which consists of a Teaser, three Acts, and, on the last one, a tag. Each episode uses the normal B5 opening music, but the closing music is from Track 10 of the B5 CD, from 6:53 to 7:26 (yes, that's the right length). I think that's everything. Oh, yes, you may wish to regard "Voice from the Past" by Jenny Hayward and the film "Highlander" as referents, but that's not at all necessary. Comments (if you have any to spare) to my usual address: Thomas Morley If there are any errors, don't blame my beta readers...I haven't got any. Babylon 5 is a Copyright of PTEN Consortium. All characters not the creation of the Author belong to either JMS or Rysher. This story is Copyright @ 1996 of Thomas Morley. Rights will be surrendered to Babylonian Productions or just about anyone else upon request. This story may be distributed in any electronic or written format, but may not be used to create a profit without my consent (suuure....). Once more unto the breach.... *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* "Dead, all of Them." Episode One - House Politics Act Two *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* "So," Duncan mused, "our little Dodo has declared a Morrodo...." "Morrargo, Ambassador," corrected his old friend, Cali. Duncan smiled a slightly tired smile. "How many times have I told you not to call me that anymore, Cali?" "Twenty-four thousand, eight hundred and seventy two, plus seventeen times over com channels." He also smiled. "Of course, that's just a rough estimate." Duncan shook his head. "I'm sorry, Cali, I just...don't want to be associated with the monstrosity president Clark has created. It's terrible." Cali agreed, and said so. "Anyway," Duncan said, returning to the business at hand, "I suppose the main questions are why, and whether he plans to win or lose." "Apparently, he's not concerned. There are only two possible outcomes: If he loses, we all become house Mollari, and thus free from all the, as you say, 'emotional baggage' of being house Maklood. If he wins, then house Maklood will become the largest house on Centauri Prime, by a huge margin...and we will, I suppose, /force/ people to like us." he added, ironically. "Very likely," Duncan replied. "Well, I must say that, in all honestly, I hope he loses. I've nothing against him, in fact I quite like him, but I've been running this house for you for so long. Perhaps the head of house Mollari will be able to take over my position." The old Centauri's expression was one of shock. "But Dodo would die!" "I know...but when you live as long as I do, surrounded by people dropping like flies...your attitude to death changes. And I can't run your house forever; someday you'll have to take over the reins yourselves. Anyway, who is the head of house Mollari?" "Ah, Londo. Londo Mollari, Centauri ambassador to Babylon 5." "Oh. Well, maybe I'll have to stay on a bit longer...." "Have you any particular instructions?" "No...just inform me of the result. You can go." "Very well. Farewell," he added, forcing a smile, "...ambassador." * * * * *Young fool!* thought Cali as he walked away from the "ambassador's" office, unconcerned that Duncan was several hundred years older than him. *He doesn't realise how ready we are. No matter, he will. But Dodo...his idea threatens my plans. If he loses...there won't be a house Maklood for me to take over. He will have to be dealt with. Four of our finest should suffice.* This decided, he once more began gloating over his masterplan. *I'm almost ready,* he thought. *Once Dodo's gone, I'll be the official head of house Maklood. And when I've got rid of Duncan, I'll have the real power too. With the munitions I've stockpiled, and the house's vast resources in the Mesopotamian sectors, we'll be able to claw our way to the top.* Cali had no preconceived notions about civil war...actually, he didn't really care. *And after that, Emperor!* Cali walked on, speculating on the probable difficulties of killing Immortals. * * * * "Well Vir, what have you found?" "About Dodo Maklood, ambassador?" "No Vir, about Abraham Lincoln!" If Londo noticed Vir's twitch, he gave no sign. "Of course about Dodo Maklood!" "Well, ambassador," Vir continued, mildly relieved, "he's a very good swordfighter. /Very/ good." "How good?" "Very very good. Apparently the skills have been passed down the family." "Vir, how good?" "Well, let's just say, if he fights, you're dead." "Wonderful. Aaaaarrrgh!" he said, rubbing his eyes. Vir looked up from the screen he'd been studying. "I feel like the Narn Bat Squad has been playing Goda with my eyeballs. Where's the hot Java I told you to make!" "It's on the table, ambassador." Londo looked over, struggling to focus. "Of course," Vir added, "it's not so hot, now." "Well," Londo returned, "get me more." "Very well, ambassador." *Here, Vir, down boy. Go fetch the hot Java, boy. There's a good Mooch.* "Waf, waf," he added, under his breath. As the door closed behind Vir, Londo abandoned his pretensions of pain, and considered the situation. Something would have to be done, and quickly. Before his train of thought could get any further, Londo had to ask himself a burning moral question: Did he have any qualms, fears of emotional reasons against killing Maklood to save his own life? No. That was easy. *Assassins,* he decided. House Mollari had some of the best assassins on Centauri Prime, and rarely hesitated in using them when need was great. They were expensive, but their honour prevented them from accepting commissions from other houses, so they could be trusted. They weren't a match for the Narn Thenta Ma'kur, but they were good. Londo frowned. *No, make that the /late/ Thenta Ma'Kur.* Four should be sufficient, he decided. He crossed to his terminal to make the appropriate arrangements. * * * * It is interesting to note the Centauri's near-complete lack of experience regarding the matter of Civil War; it is a fate which, even during the "Great Old Days of the Republic" has been spared them. Indeed, it can be shown that the lack of large-scale infighting was the main contributing factor to the Centauri's extremely rapid sociological development. That's not to say that Centauri don't kill each other; they do it all the time. The Centauri assassins are well-respected and well-paid individuals, and have a lot of customers. But the Centauri never fought each other en masse. The reasons for this are actually very simple, and can be summarised in a single phrase: "Fear of a Greater Enemy" * * * * "Lord Refa?" "Ah, Mister Morden! What can I do for you?" "Well, actually, it's more a question of what I can do for you." He paused. "I have some information that you may find valuable." "Indeed." "You know of Dodo Maklood?" "Know of him! Of course I know of him! That puny, overeducated, mindless, conniving son of a Reko...that house has been contaminated by its association with the earth...eh," he broke off, realising what he had almost said. "I know of him," he concluded with barely restrained hatred. "He has declared a Morrargo against Londo Mollari." "Has he indeed?" Refa replied, troubled. "He doesn't hold the real power of course," Morden continued, oblivious to Refa's sudden glance, "but the result will still be valid. The winning house will almost double in power." "If he does not hold the real power," inquired Refa, picking up on the previous thread, "who does?" "Oh, an...associate of mine." Morden replied. Refa noticed a slight hissing, crackling noise in the air. He often heard it around Morden, and had decided it was natural static electricity produced by all humans. He couldn't have been more wrong if he'd tried. "Perhaps," Morden amended, "/associate/ was the wrong word. It has some...misleading connotations. Let us call him an acquaintance." "Well," returned Refa, "whatever we call him, this Morrargo will be a problem. Londo has more power than he deserves already. And we are in the middle of a...minor, territorial dispute with house Maklood. I would not appreciate that dispute being solved by the Makloods becoming the largest house on the planet. They will have to be dealt with." "Precisely my thoughts, Lord Refa. Should I contact my associates?" Refa considered for a moment, then shook his head. "No," he replied. "This matter is internal Centauri politics. We will deal with it ourselves. I will send four of our finest assassins." Morden's beaming smile did not flicker. To Refa's knowledge, it had not done so once for the past month. "Very well, Lord Refa. Now, if I may, I have business with my associates to attend to." And with that, Morden left. *Of course, Lord Refa, when your assassins fail, mine will be ready to take over. And you will, once again, be grateful for my assistance. /Very/ grateful.* * * * * Many of you will be asking who this "Greater Enemy" that united the Centauri was. Many more will already know. A few will think they were the Shadows. The last group would be wrong. In the times before the Republic, Centauri Prime was a world wracked by war. It had the good fortune (or perhaps lack of it) to be home to more than one sentient race. To be precise, two. These two dominant species spent most of their time fighting each other for supremacy: the Centauri, and a people they called Xon. The main Centauri festival was a celebration of how many of them had survived the year's hostilities - times were hard. Eventually, the Xon were wiped out. The story of the death of the last Xon is probably allegorical, but it is recounted here for completeness (thanks to the Centauri ministry of cultural studies (greetings to both its members) for permission to reprint this piece from "The Eye of the Empire, an Abbreviated History": "...Pino Mota approached the dying creature, and dashed away the sword it still held. Then, before the eyes of the combined leaders of the Centauri, he drove his Kuto through the Xon's body. It uttered a final scream of anguish, then died. Pino turned to his audience, and gave a grand speech on the ending of the Xon menace. He then went into council with three Technomages, and with their assistance formed the Eye from parts of the hoard they had plundered from their last attack, mounting them in a gold-plated arrangement of the late Xon leader's mandibles. With this in hand, Pino left the meeting-hall, and declared himself Emperor. The support was unanimous...." Since that day, the Centauri had, within reason, been united in a common goal; us good, others bad. The occasional rumoured skirmishes with Xon survivors kept this idea up until the Centauri discovered space travel, and quickly expanded their Empire, subjugating those people they didn't like: The Narns, the Vree and, almost, the humans. They quickly realised, however, that the humans could not be controlled, so they gave us technology in an endeavour to let us keep their enemies busy. Meanwhile, the reports of Xon encounters faded, and by 2260 (earth time) all that remained of them in the Centauri racial mindset was the ceremony of thanks...and a nagging dislike of insects. [FADE TO BLACK] *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* I /hope/ act three will be ready in a few days, If I can find time between rewatching Z'Ha'Dum and rewatching Z'Ha'Dum.... I'm not as happy with this part as I was with the previous parts, but act three should be better. [ [ <*> Thomas Morley ] ] <*> morden@dircon.co.uk [ [ <*> http://www.users.dircon.co.uk/~morden/convergence/ ] ] <*> "This thing is /evolving/ right before my eyes. I [ [ <*> have to kill it before it develops language skills." From morden@dircon.co.uk Sun Dec 22 23:22:38 1996 Date: Mon, 16 Sep 1996 22:29:05 +0100 From: Thomas Morley To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Dead, All of Them" - Background Information [The following text is in the "ISO-8859-1" character set] [Your display is set for the "US-ASCII" character set] [Some characters may be displayed incorrectly] Here is some background information for the story that I didn't make clear before. Some of it is based on information in "Voice from the Past" by Jenny Hayward, the rest is my own demented imagination... I've had a few people asking about this, so: -------------------------------------------------------------------- Soon after the Centauri first met earth, the head of a Centauri house (I forget the name) regarded himself as having been insulted by a certain human. He, in response, challenged the human to a Morrargo (a la "Knives"). However, what he did not count on was that that human would be Duncan MacLeod...and excellent swordfighter and Immortal (as in the film "Highlander"). This biased the fight significantly against the Centauri, and he, unsurprisingly, lost. Fatally. However, by the customs of the Morrargo, the victor must accept the (now deceased) loser's family as part of their own...thus, a large Centauri house had suddenly become part of Duncan's house; they became house Maklood. This so scandalised the house, that it quickly became reserved and universally hated. Duncan, meanwhile, suddenly found himself responsable for a wide-ranging house of largely weak Centauri. He could not leave them to survive for themselves, abhored as they were, but he also realised that someone would notice if the same human was the head of a Centauri household for several hundred years.... He thus elected to rule the house until he next faked his death. But when that time came he realised the house was in no condition to carry on of its own accord. He thus used his considerable influence (he had had a very long time to work up the ranks in earthdome) to get his new persona assigned as an Earth ambassador to Minbar, and became the unofficial head of house Maklood. A figurehead leader was installed in his place, who beleived he had far more power than he actually had. Meanwhile, all the major figures of house Maklood did as Duncan told them, but usually only one or two knew who he really was. An equitable arrangement. But after a hundred years of it, Duncan was getting rather bored. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Hope this clears things up a little, and Alexei, would you mind putting this message in the archive as well, for convenience? Thanks. [ [ <*> Thomas Morley ] ] <*> morden@dircon.co.uk [ [ <*> http://www.users.dircon.co.uk/~morden/convergence/ ] ] <*> "You've been running away all your life. You use work to [ [ <*> run away from your problems, and stims to run away from ] ] <*> your work. And now, you're running away from everything."