From: David Goldingay Subject: STAR AND CIRCLE: "The Seeker's Fire", Episode 12, Overture Date: Wed, 29 Mar 2000 22:44:41 -0700 I remember the mistake that was made -- if not some of the details. I remember watching then-Commander Ivanova and her fighter pilots drag that doorway to Hell out of the Epsilon system jump gate. I remember the madness that consumed me, of the creatures from Thirdspace who pried open my defences, who used the loneliness of the girl I used to be against me. I remember the name of the scientist who was responsible for visiting so much pain upon us all... and also the name of her company. Dr. Elizabeth Trent, of Interplanetary Expeditions. We all hoped she had learned her lesson from the Thirdspace crisis -- that in her profession, it's better to look before you leap. Unfortunately for everyone involved, however, we were about to learn that lesson had not nearly been harsh enough -- for another of Dr. Trent's great flaws was that she was prone to delusions of grandeur. It has been said that 'those who do not learn from their mistakes are doomed to repeat them'. The circumstances would not the same, this time around -- but just the same, another mistake was about to be made. A mistake that was about to place me and my crew in terrible, *terrible* danger. * * * Neilgeitha Prime -- northern continent. Mid-morning, local time. July 30th, 2267, Earth Reckoning. An icy wind ran between the spires of a city built when the creatures mankind named 'dinosaurs' had roamed their world -- a world now doomed to extinction, Dr. Elizabeth Trent resolutely reminded herself, unless someone, be it the Rangers, the crew of Matthew Gideon's 'Excalibur'... or her, for that matter, found a cure to the Drakh plague. Trent looked up at the massive spire in front of her, and shivered -- this place was giving her that *feeling* again -- of a big strike in the making. "You're smiling again, 'Liz." Dr. Renly Moreau commented from his position on a small ledge thirty feet up the side of the spire. "Should I be worried?" Trent sighed -- Moreau had been her assistant for almost a year now -- young, brilliant, his chin seemingly perpetually bristled no matter how often he shaved. And most importantly -- he knew when to say 'no' to one of her ideas -- and to make that decision stick. Trent's expression sobered, then -- as she thought back on what had happened at Babylon 5, six years before. Of how the creatures on the other side of that 'gate' that Ivanova had found in hyperspace had influenced her to the point where she'd... where she'd killed Bill Morishi. Of how those self-same creatures had then invaded through the gate -- and how Sheridan and the rest had managed only by the skin of their teeth to turn back the apocalyptic invasion force that had followed them through the gate. A gate that Sheridan had later destroyed from the inside out, to prevent Babylon 5 from being destroyed. For a long time, she hadn't believed she would be able to do this again -- to go out on the Rim and look for artifacts -- to do the only job she was *truly* good at. She'd made up her mind a long time ago that she wouldn't ever work for Interplanetary Expeditions again -- a corporation where profit almost always came before common sense -- and without IPX to pay the bills, it was pretty difficult (translation, prohibitively expensive) to get out on the Rim, where the really good digs were. But then, the Drakh had attacked Earth -- and Trent, who'd been lucky enough to be on Proxima III at the time -- had jumped at the chance when the ISA had called, looking for archeologists and analysts to help with the search for the cure And now, here she was -- on a planet where Ancients had once walked -- in a city old before the human race had even come down from the trees -- and this spire -- this ancient tower was the *key*. "Worried, Renly?" she retorted. "No, you should be excited, instead -- the Interstellar Alliance sent us out here looking for a cure to the Drakh Plague -- and I just know that there's something in this tower that's going to help us with finding that cure. Just think... if we were to come back with the cure for the plague... we'd be famous!" Moreau snorted. "And how likely is *that*, 'Liz? Gideon and his crew, as well as almost the entire White Star Fleet, have been combing thorugh the Rimworlds looking for a cure since January -- and so far, no one, not one of them!... has come close. What if there isn't a cure to this damn plague? What if the Shadows took the cure with them when they went beyond the Rim at the end of the War? What then?" "I... won't be a party to that sort of attitude, Moreau." she shot back, as the other archeologist lowered a line, clipped it in to the small winch at his side, and proceeded to haul her up on to the ledge. "The cure exists -- we just have to find it. And if it's here -- we *will* find it -- we'll be the ones, you'll see!" "Right. Now, about this spire..." "Our sensor scans show it's hollow inside -- and that there's some kind of power source about five hundred meters in. We know from the artifacts we've found elsewhere on Neilgeitha Prime that the race that used to live here was fond of using nanonic tech on a regular basis..." "And the virus, of course, is nanonic in nature..." Moreau darkly muttered. "Yeah, I know, you don't have to give me the lecture again." The archeologist stepped off the ledge, and as Trent followed, proceeded down the dusty corridor beyond, to where the rest of their team was busily chiseling away at the massive slab that was blocking further ingress. "If we can bring some nano-tech back from this place that's not immediately going to try and kill us, maybe we can learn how to use it ourselves to fight off the virus. Hell, maybe we can even engineer our own counter-virus from what we find here..." "But first, we have to get inside." So intent were they on the problem at hand, that neither of the archeologists noticed the brief shimmer of light that passed down the wall above them -- a glow that paused for a moment, as if to observe what was going on -- and then moved on, seemingly satisfied with the progress being made. And what no one in the party knew, of course, was that the slab in front of them was the front door to a prison installed by the Shadows and their minions more than a hundred thousand years before... And that the billions of tiny lifeforms inside the prison wanted out -- in a big way. * * * Interstellar Alliance Space Station Babylon 5 -- Central Corridor, Ranger Compound. 08:45 hrs, EST. The years had passed, but the sounds, the very *feel* of this place she loved so much -- that had not changed in the slightest. Julia smiled and closed her eyes as she leant on the side of the skybridge -- and remembered a time more than seven years before, when she'd waited in this very same spot to see if William and Jennifer would let her join up with the Rangers. So *much* had happened since then -- worlds and people had died, while others had lived -- but Babylon 5 remained. "Hey, kid -- how's it going?" Julia's eyes snapped open, and she turned away from her contemplation to face the equally dark-haired woman standing in the middle of the skybridge. "People have been telling me you've gone up in the world... Val'na." "As you have as well... Sha'vei Pratchett." Jamie Pratchett winced. "I still find myself turning to look for Tashann and Shival when people call me that, from time to time. I never believed the day would come when the High Council would give me that title -- but that was before the Drakh attacked Earth and Westcastle and Shival started this major mobilization and buildup of forces, now wasn't it? A mobilization that started, of course, with the launch of your *Shard of Night*." the older Ranger concluded. "A White Star battlecruiser -- now that blew me out of the water when I first heard about it -- so where's she parked?" "Just off the Euphrates jump beacon," Julia explained, "And far enough down the incline that no one coming into the system will see it -- not that anyone could in any case..." "Since your ship's stealthmode is fully operational." Pratchett grinned, then. "That's one Hell of a toy the President gave to you to play with -- have to admit, though, I've liked the nasty shocks you've been giving the Drakh in the last few months... think you can keep it up?" "That's the idea." Julia assured the other Ranger. "For now, however -- may I assume that Sha'vei Lanniel and Councillor Lerenn are ready to begin the commander's conference?" "The kid gets a bonus point for quick thinking." Pratchett motioned in the direction of the nearby council chamber. "Shall we go?" "After you." * * * "It is well to see so many of you here," Councillor Lerenn allowed, as the gathered might of the White Star captains standing below the dias, most of which had been out on the Rim for more than six months now, waited to see what he had to say to them. "And regrettable that you and your crews have been out on the search for so long without a rest. But we are Anla'shok, and our Entil'zha has summoned us to duty, a duty we cannot lay down until the cure for the peoples of Earth is found." Lerenn smiled then, however. "I have not, however, called you here this day to give a 'pep talk' as Sha'vei Pratchett would say. I have some good news to pass on -- and also some that you may find surprising. Firstly," the Minbari began, as he turned to face Lanniel, "I must deal with the matter of your commander. As of two standard days ago, Sha'vei Tashann was summoned to headquarters in Tuzanor to be briefed by the President and Entil'zha Delenn -- at that time, he chose to stand down from his position to take on another task, and shortly thereafter, Sha'vei Lanniel was promoted into his place, as commander of the White Star Fleet." A great muttering passed through the ranks at this revelation, and Lerenn raised his hands high. "Fear not!... this does not mean what you think it does -- Lanniel, would you be so kind as to continue?" "Councillor." The tall, fair faced warrior stepped forward to the dias at that point, her expression grave... but Julia noted just the slightest twinkle in her glacial cold eyes -- and tried not to laugh. Here it came... "As all of you are aware, with the destruction of the special projects shipyard just after the Drakh assault at Earth, further construction of Victory-class destroyers will not be possible for the forseeable future. As a result, the Anla'shok High Council, after consultation with the President, approached the Worker Caste with a very specific proposal. Simultaneous to this proposal, the Sech'shaa'li in Tuzanor have begun intensifying their search for new trainees to swell our ranks..." "Sha'vei!" one of the old guard Ranger captains from the Shadow War days exclaimed, "Do you mean to say that..." "Our tasks are numerous and difficult at present, Durann." Lanniel replied, her smile enigmatic. "We hunt for the cure to the plague afflicting the humans -- we must deal with continued Drakh incursions into Alliance territory as that search continues... *and* we must also guard the Alliance against other enemies, even as we wait for further shipyards to be built... and further Victory-class warships, so that the 'Excalibur' may, one day, not fly alone. We are stretched thinly, Val'nae!" the former Storm Dancer suddenly exclaimed, "And this has been deemed intolerable -- the request has been made... and the Worker Caste has said... Yes." Julia laughed -- and then promptly shuddered, as Lanniel turned a flinty stare in her direction. "You find something amusing in my words, Val'na Tikopai?" "Forgive me, Sha'vei... but this is all *so* surprising, and so sudden -- the Worker Caste has from time to time built further White Stars to replace those that had been lost in battle, but this!..." This was something else entirely -- something remarkable. A sign of the times. "They're finally going to build us another White Star Fleet, aren't they?" Contsternation erupted among the captains at those words -- but finally Lanniel's glare softened -- and a thin, proud smile appeared on her face. "They are... indeed." * * * [Cue Dramatic Music] KLAIRIKA ALIDIAE We are the Watchers... [Klairika standing on the bridge of the SHARD OF NIGHT, an image of the EXCALIBUR hanging in the air in front of her.] SHEYNELL KEYNES We are the Warriors. [Images: Sheynell at the tactical station, the battlecruiser firing its main gun and destroying a Drakh capital ship] LARIEKEN We are the Guardians... [Image: Larieken defending his Captain against Z'shailyl attackers, warrior pike in hand] VEYSHAHK We are the Healers. [Image: Veyshahk at his desk in MedSection, an image of the Drakh virus on his computer screen.] DASOURI and NICHOLAS DAWSON We are the exiles... [Image: Nicholas in Engineering, Dasouri at the helm of the SHARD] JULIA TIKOPAI And I am the Seeker. [Image: Julia's face, lit by candles, the stars of the Galaxy beyond] KLAIRIKA ALIDIAE We are the Rangers of the SHARD OF NIGHT, in this, the Earth Year 2267. [Image: The SHARD OF NIGHT enters, from the left...] JULIA TIKOPAI This is our story. [... before engaging darklight mode, and going into hyperspace.] * * * STAR AND CIRCLE: “THE SEEKER’S FIRE” * * * ‘STAR AND CIRCLE’ created by David Goldingay Legal Disclaimer: BABYLON 5, CRUSADE and all characters and situations thereof are the creations and copyrighted property of J. Michael Straczynski and Babylonian Productions. This series is a non-profit creation for the purposes of private entertainment only. Original characters and situations are copyright of the author, 1997-2000. * * * Coming soon: Act I of Episode 12: "What Lies Hidden" http://www.connect.ab.ca/~dgolding/index.htm From: David Goldingay Subject: STAR AND CIRCLE: "The Seeker's Fire", Episode 12, Act I Date: Sat, 01 Apr 2000 22:49:37 -0700 MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" "STAR AND CIRCLE: THE SEEKER'S FIRE" EPISODE TWELVE: "WHAT LIES HIDDEN" Starring, PETA WILSON as Lanniel MICHELLE FORBES as Alidarra AMANDA TAPPING as Miranda Feist LEAH REMINI as Jamie Pratchett JASON BEHR as Kirash ETHAN HAWKE as Renly Moreau *and* SHARI BELAFONTE as Dr. Elizabeth Trent * * * (disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture) * * * < They called themselves the Craneori -- they could not remember if they had given themselves that name, or if the Creators had -- but they remembered the Creators, oh yes! -- and they remembered the crime that had been committed. The Craneori were angry -- at life, at the enemies who had put them in this place... and with the Creators for abandoning them. And for a very long time, they had been looking for a way out. It was Zha'shanal and his dark circle who had done this to them, of course -- when that battlemaster and his dark minions had discovered what the Creators had done, Zha'shanal had been most displeased... this, the Craneori remembered, as well -- for had they not been created as living weapons to be used in the war of Chaos and Order? They remembered what had come next, as well -- Zha'shanal and his black screaming servants had ambushed the Creators an ambush in which the Craneori had been captured and then imprisoned in the crystals... crystals that had later been connected to the substance of the surrounding building in a way which allowed the Craneori to flow through the walls of the interior... but not those beyond. And thus it had been for too long -- for even though the Dark Ones had been defeated in that war, their servants had brought them here afterwards, to the city-shell the Creators had left behind them, when they had gone beyond the Rim. Almost they had lost hope -- but now, the long wait was over... for something remarkable had occured. A group of primitives had arrived at the gateway to their prison... and then had begun cutting into it! At first they believed the Dark servants had returned, so similar were these primitives in appearance -- but then the Craneori looked past their rage -- and saw that they had been mistaken. These large-primitives were smooth-skinned... they were different then those who had come before, the creatures that had served the Darkness in that age -- and finally, their curiousity became paramount. That these creatures were here, unopposed, suggested that the Dark Ones had finally been defeated -- and if this was the case... If this was the case, then perhaps the plan they had made so very long ago could now be put into motion. And even as they thought this, the large-primitives finished their struggle at the portal -- and one half of the door that filled it came crashing down into the interior. The Craneori watched this -- and were pleased. The outer wards of their prison had now been broken -- the only thing that now remained was for these primitives to be curious enough to pierce the *inner*. Then would they be able to escape to take control of that which the Creators had left behind them... power systems, weapons and the like -- thus would the primitives be endangered. And then? Then, if they were anything like the bright-allies the Creators had aligned themselves with in the times-before, the primitives would summon a ship to aid them -- a ship which, the Craneori concluded... Could easily be *possessed* -- if all went well. * * * Spire interior -- Neilgeitha Prime. The boom of the door falling inward was the signal that Trent had been waiting for -- and with Moreau at her side, she moved forward eagerly to stand within the portal -- and her eyes widened at the sight in front of her. She was standing on a ledge about ten feet wide and a hundred long -- while a set of stairs descended from this ledge to a wider one no more than about twenty feet below -- a ledge that ran all the way around the interior of this impossibly enormous tower. The tower interior was at least a kilometer across -- while the tip of the enormous hollow interior was more than two kilometers above them -- and a good deal of the top third appeared to be walled in crystal that was *glowing* -- the light, a deep, sullen orange colour. A colour shared by the smaller spire in the center of the building's interior -- the core of this structure, perhaps? A core that appeared to be... pulsing. "There's your 'power source', 'Liz..." Moreau managed, as the rest of the team broke themselves away from the sight and began eagerly descending to the second ledge below. "And whatever it is, it's strong enough to make all this crystal glow!" "Yes..." she whispered, entranced by the sight. Who would've believe it? They'd actually found a working *First Ones* power source, abandoned here for God only knew how long! -- and her team, perhaps the first intelligent beings to visit this place in thousands of years -- was the one that had found it. "We have to find a way to get into that smaller spire, Renly -- for starters, if we can come back with the power source for this place and duplicate it, we'll get our names in the history books for certain -- and if we manage to find some nanotech to help the people of Earth fight off the plague..." "Which is, after all, our primary goal here..." Moreau critically replied. "...in any case, there's only one way of finding out." Moreau sighed, nodded, and shouldered his pack more securely. "Time for a brisk hike." * * * Babylon 5 -- the Ranger Compound. 09:19 hrs, EST. The two images floated above the council table, side by side -- and like every other Ranger in the room, Julia could not help but be pleased with what she saw. "The High Council has decided," Lanniel explained, "To pursue a slightly different agenda with the construction of these new vessels than we have before -- they believe it is long since time the Anla'shok possessed several different warship classes instead of just the one -- and their reasoning is, I believe, sound. As of this date, as you are all aware, approximately thirty-five triads of White Stars remain in active service -- almost half of the initial force deployed by our Entil'zha during the Shadow War, however, have been destroyed in combat engagements since their construction. As time has passed, the Worker Caste has, from time to time, built replacements to make up for those losses -- but some among them have longed to improve on that design for some time now -- and now, you see the results of their labours." Lanniel gestured her hand, and after a moment, the smaller of the two new ship designs expanded in size so that all could see the form of the new ship more clearly -- flatter in profile then the White Stars, the bridge of this vessel was much closer to the prow, while a large gap could be seen in the deep-blue hull beyond amidships. "The smaller of the new designs is intended to be used as a scout-class vessel -- more lightly armed that the original White Stars, but even quicker, its navigational systems more precise, the points generated by its jump engines far smaller... so that if it should be necessary to jump into atmospheres to recover Anla'shok personnel, those emergences will be less disruptive *and* far less noticable. The second class, however," and at that the other image expanded, showing a warship perhaps thirty percent larger than the White Stars of present and of similar style to the scoutship, "Is intended to fulfill a role the advanced destroyers would have undertaken -- that of a front line warship to defend the Interstellar Alliance against its more... aggressive foes. This vessel will possess twice as many pulse cannon as the White Stars, and two prow batteries, where our present commands possess only one. The labour involved in the construction of these vessels is more extreme, of course... and as such, their numbers will be smaller then those of the scoutship squadrons. It is, however, the belief of both the Worker Caste and the High Council that there firepower and maneuverability will prove to be a devastating combination, should the need arise." "Sha'vei!" one of the White Star captains suddenly exclaimed, "This news is welcome -- but I wonder, perhaps, if the High Council has not gone far enough with this new... construction project. Some years ago, President Sheridan and our Entil'zha came to the conclusion that the White Stars, while heavily armed for their size, were being deployed against capital ship-class vessels far too often -- thus was the Advanced destroyer project born. With this new project, it seems clear that the High Council's intent is, at present, to continue Ranger operations in vessels scarcely bigger, and in many cases *smaller* -- then the warships we use at present. Is this not counterproductive? Why is it that the High Council has not authorized the construction of *larger* warships to put at our disposal in this time of need?" Almost Julia laughed at her fellow Captain's question -- almost, but not *quite*. "A very... good question that is." Lanniel finally replied, her eyes now twinkling with barely repressed amusement, "And the answer is an interesting one, as you will soon understand. As I recall, Hanson, your crew was on a deep range exploration mission at the time of the Drakh Assault -- and since then, you have spent virtually all your time out on the Rim searching for the cure -- a long deployment this is, without a break for your crew." "Too damn long." the human Ranger fervently agreed. "We haven't been this far in for quite a many months -- guess we're not as up to date on recent events as we should be..." By this point, well over seven eighths of the Rangers in the Council chamber were openly grinning -- and finally, Hanson figured out that something, as it was said... was *up*. "Does someone want to tell me what I'm missing here?" "Val'na Tikopai -- your thoughts on this matter?" Renewed muttering began between the captains who weren't aware of exactly what was going on, but Julia bowed in Lanniel's direction -- and moved forward to the edge of the table from her position near the edge of the room. "The answer to your question, Captain Hanson... is that there *is* such a vessel in active service at this time." "There *is*?" the astonished Ranger exclaimed -- as the muttering abruptly faded away, to be replaced by astonishment. "There is." she insisted. "A vessel developed by the Warrior Caste -- an echo of the White Stars -- a promise of a future yet to be. Its name is the *Shard of Night* -- the first battlecruiser to actively serve the Alliance -- and now, as was intended, every one of you are now aware that we exist." "If I may inquire," one of the other deep-patrol captains inquired, his eyes narrow with interest, "Where is this... marvel? I saw no... battlecruiser in orbit as we approached Babylon 5. And who is 'we'?" "No... you didn't." Julia agreed. "That's because the *Shard*'s still in hyperspace -- parked just off the Grid Epsilon jump beacon, as a matter of fact. And as for the 'we' part..." "The main purpose of their mission," Lanniel explained, "Is to guard the *Excalibur* -- the stealth capabilities of Val'na Tikopai's command are, to put it mildly, to be... admired -- they have already engaged the Drakh fleet on two occasions -- and destroyed many of their capital ship units, while suffering little or no lasting damage in return. And the longer this continues..." "The better!" Hanson replied , his eyes now wide with wonder. "Yeah -- now I remember about you. Aren't you the kid the Vorlons sucked into this whole mess, back in the Shadow War?" "Guilty as charged." Julia admitted. The other Ranger captain laughed. "The one who looks, and acts, older then she really is -- yeah, now I remember it all. In Valen's Name, though -- is your whole crew as young as you... ah, appear?" "Pretty much." she agreed. "Just call us 'the best and the brightest'... and the youngest Rangers around." "I sure wouldn't want to be in your shoes." "These are desparate times..." Lanniel gravely reminded him, "And desperate times call for desparate actions. Now, to continue..." * * * "Hey, Alidarra!" Jamie whispered, her smile broad as she caught sight of a familiar face in the assembly, "With Lanniel gone on to command the flagship, does that make you..." "The one chosen to follow in her footsteps, yes." the other Minbari replied, a faint smile touching the corners of her lips. "She has given White Star 6 into my care, Sha'vei... And now, all I have to do is live up to her expectations." "Woah -- that's a tall order to follow." "Indeed it is." Alidarra agreed, her smile fading. "But she said it best, not so long ago... You have long stood at my right hand -- now, as Valen wills it, the high season of your career begins at last." "Congrats are due, in any case. Say, have you seen Feist around?" "She is not here." Alidarra replied, her smile fading. "It is my understanding that they were pursuing a lead deeper in the Rim then any other Ranger crew -- they are returning, but they have yet to arrive..." * * * Elsewhere in the Central Corridor. His expression contemplative, Veyshahk walked amongst and through the maze, his mind slowly working its way through the permutations of the maze-pattern. Ah... yes, now he had it. Right, and left, and right again, and around the corner -- and... the doctor smiled, as he arrived at the exit. "A challenge, to be sure..." he allowed, as he stepped forth to move deeper into the Garden -- "But a necessary one, just the same." Veyshahk let out a long breath, as he looked behind him and half way around the Central Corridor -- and after a time his eyes found what he was looking for -- the tiny crystalline shimmer that marked the location of the Ranger Compound, high above him, the complex almost blocked from sight by the spine of the core shuttle. He had come far in his wanderings since they had come aboard -- but his captain had been right, as usually she was... he had needed to leave the *Shard* for a time... 'to stretch his legs' as the humans were known to say from time to time. This was only, as a matter of fact, the third time he'd been off the battlecruiser since their deployment had begun -- Veyshahk smiled -- what was it she'd said, that she was afraid he was going to get 'cabin fever'. A curious concept, that... The *Shard* was, after all, hardly claustrophobic. And then, Veyshahk checked the time -- and his eyes widened -- had it already be that long? "I shall have to return..." he muttered, "And I must begin now. She will be... most displeased if we are late returning to the ship." But even as the Ranger physician turned aside from his intended route of travel and began the long trek that would return him to the Ranger compound -- a figure stepped out of the Maze behind him -- another Minbari, whose eyes glittered maliciously as they came to rest on Veyshahk's now-swiftly moving figure -- and a moment later, that Minbari, a member of the Star Riders Clan -- a warrior born, raised a small comm-device to his lips. "It is as the watchers had predicted -- he is here." "You're sure it's him?" another voice replied -- a voice dripping with venom, and with need. "Yes, Kirash -- there can be no doubt. His changeling captain took pity on him, no doubt -- but no matter. You are aware of my location?" A pause. "We can trace you in this place, yes." "Excellent. The Moon Shield has, even now, begun his return trip to the Anla'shok holding aboard -- if I follow him closely enough..." "We will bar his path, yes." "Then all will go as you have forseen, Sha'liat." And with that, the warrior stepped out out of the maze, and began his pursuit. * * * Neilgeitha Prime -- the Spire. The closer they'd come to the glowing core of this enormous ancient building -- the surer Trent had become that this was the find that would make *all* the difference in the long run. They'd climbed the spiral ramp leading up the side of the core, once in a while pausing to try and take samples of the crystalline surface beside them (and failing) but finally, the moment came when the climb came to a halt on a ledge echoing the one they'd stood upon earlier -- but inverted, as this one ran around the outside of the core. After a quick discussion, Moreau and another of her assistants had headed off in either direction around the ledge -- and a moment later, Moreau's shout indicated that he'd found what she'd been expecting. An entrance into the core -- and moments later, the team moved into the obelisk. "Well this is *weird*..." Moreau whispered, as they moved deeper into the structure, "The walls..." "Yes." she replied, her smile brilliant. The light in the walls was fading the deeper in they went -- but far ahead, down the corridor, a light, bright by comparison to that they had already seen and *deep* red in colour, filled the chamber that waited there -- a light that pulsed in synchrony with the pulses seen on the core's exterior. It all meant something -- something *important* -- but no matter what, this was the find of a lifetime -- even more so... Trent's train of thought came to a crashing halt as she forced herself to confront the memory yet again -- even more so then the artifact... the jumpgate to Thirdspace. This.. this could mean the cure was close at hand -- that the hunt would soon be over. And even as she thought this, they arrived in the chamber in the heart of the core -- in the center of the spire -- and all conversation ceased -- for now, it was clear where the glow they'd seen earlier was coming from... no, 'clear' wasn't definite enough, 'blindingly obvious' was more accurate. A midnight black cylinder stood in the middle of the chamber -- a cylinder that seemed to absorb all light -- while set firmly into that surface were nine multihedral crystals, each about the size of a baseball -- it was from these that the flame-red light was coming. "Jackpot." Moreau said, his grin enormous. "So, 'Liz -- what the Hell do you suppose these things are?" "Now that's," she replied, as another of her assistants pulled out a hand-held scanner and began examining the crystals, "The question of the hour, isn't it?" "Yeah -- ah well, whatever they are, at least they look benign..." That, of course, was what fate had been waiting for -- as all of a sudden, a blinding point of light appeared on the crystal nearest to the archeologist holding the scanner -- and a crackling ribbon of energy sprang out -- a ribbon that impaled that luckless man through the chest, and flung him back against the wall. "Down!" Moreau bellowed, as the ribbon faded, and other points of light began appearing on the crystals, "Everyone down, now!" The rest of the team obeyed -- but even as they did, one of the more nervous, reactive members of the team, a man named Jordan Pieke, suddenly whipped out a PPG, and before an astonished Trent could even give outcry, sent a burst of burst of plasma against the crystal that had attacked his colleague. A crystal that recoiled from its position on the black cylinder -- rolled across that surface... and fell out into mid-air... "Oh Hell, no!..." Moreau exclaimed, as the crystal fell. "No, damnit, it's going to..." At which point the crystal hit the floor -- and shattered. That was the first mistake -- but it would not be the last. * * * FREE! The Craneori exulted in the primitive's mistake -- and their pleasure was great as they beheld the final failure of the decaying defenses the Dark Enemy had built into their crystal prisons. For so long, they had been trapped in this place -- unable to escape, but knowing just the same that the prisons themselves were becoming increasingly more fragile as time went on -- and that all it would take for their sentence to end was one primitive, acting as this one just had. And now, they decided, the primitive who had freed them would have to be... rewarded -- a group of the Craneori were chosen for this task... but as for the rest, they had other objectives to achieve. * * * Fiery streamers of light erupted up from the floor of the chamber, out of the ruins of the shattered crystal, and all the humans, Trent included, flinched as those streamers swam past them -- in some cases *through* them -- and out through the walls. And vanished. The crystal core shuddered around them -- and after a moment, Moreau, his expression grim, said it for them all. "My God... what have we done?" No one, not Trent, not Moreau, not any of their followers, had the answer to that question... yet. But the answer *was* coming. What had happened, it was... a beginning. Or, as some would later describe the event... The beginning of the end. * * * To be continued... http://www.connect.ab.ca/~dgolding/index.htm From: David Goldingay Subject: STAR AND CIRCLE: "The Seeker's Fire", Episode 12, Act II Date: Wed, 05 Apr 2000 22:44:00 -0600 "STAR AND CIRCLE: THE SEEKER'S FIRE" EPISODE TWELVE: "WHAT LIES HIDDEN" (disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture) * * * < Upon their emergence from the ancient building that had been their prison for so very long, the Craneori were dismayed to sense how badly entropy had affected Ilvar`inon, the greatest abode their makers had ever built. They had counted the passing of time with ease within their prison -- but it now appeared as if their count had been... somewhat inaccurate. How much time had really passed? -- and was the war between the Dark Enemy and their Creator's bright-allies still going on? Now that *was* the question, wasn't it... The thought-processes of the Craneori froze in shock at that point, however, as those of their collective who had been chosen to enter the body of the primitive who had freed them began relaying the memories of that creature -- no, even though their need was great, it appeared as if they would now have to treat these... lifeforms with somewhat greater respect. This member of that species, who named themselves 'humans', thought of himself as an 'archeologist' -- like the Creator's Shei'nar Order, they were -- human-members who hunted through ruins searching for ancient artifacts. It now seemed clear that a *great* deal of time had passed -- and as the sifting continued, the Craneori also learned that a human-member named 'Sheridan' had been responsible for banishing both the Dark Enemy and the Bright-Allies beyond the galactic Rim in the very recent past... and that races of their vintage now ruled the galaxy. Races that had been... but *animals* when the Creator's empire had stood at its height. This, however, did not change the Craneori's intent -- above all other things, now that the wars appeared to be over, now that their original purpose had become irrevelant -- despite their anger, they desired a reunion with their creators. They needed a ship -- and once acquired, it would be necessary to travel to an explorer-portal, a handful of which the Creators had built during the height of their power -- one of which they had used during their departure beyond the Rim. The Dark servants who had brought them here had implied, of course, that all such portals had been destroyed in the war -- the Craneori, however, had not believed that to be true -- the portals had been capable of concealing themselves from the dark-enemy -- and now, they were probably the only ones who remembered how to activate them. If any still existed, that was. For now, though, there were other concerns to address. Their movements sure, the Craneori compared their memories of Ilvar`inon as it had been to the broken shell that remained -- and after a time, they moved into three k'lsai-- the worldwide network of defense towers that had kept the world safe during the ancient war -- and applied their energies to reactivating the long-dormant systems. After a time, the kernel-of-life that still remained in each tower responded to their efforts -- and flowered forth, a echo of what once had been. Even if only for a little while. This accomplished, certain members of the collective then ascended away from the world towards the darkness-above -- for when a ship arrived to help the humans, the Craneori would be waiting to close their trap. * * * Trent and Moreau didn't waste any time getting off of the spire -- even as two of their colleagues carefully lowered the man who'd been injured in the crystal core down to the surface, where their crew chief, Gerald McCaffrey, waited, his face grim. "What the Hell happened in there?" the grizzled ex-flight engineer growled. "And do I even want to know?" "We found... this room full of crystals," Moreau explained between breaths, "Containing some sort of ancient's power source, as near as we could figure out -- which was when said crystals attacked and injured Mechain -- then Pieke bounced a plasma round off of the crystal in question..." "Which rolled off its pedestal, fell to the floor, and *broke*, all right?" Trent impatiently interrupted. "And I'm sorry, Renly, but I don't think 'power source' is entirely accurate -- *something* escaped from that crystal, something... intelligent -- and even though Pieke managed to grab the rest of them and get them out of the tower without breaking them..." "You let something out... but you still brought the rest of the crystals out with you? Doc, are you nuts?" "No, damnit, I'm not!" Trent exploded, her face darkening towards anger. "And kindly remember, Mr. McCaffrey, who is paying your wages -- and also who is in charge of this expedition?" "Yeah, yeah..." McCaffrey grumbled, as the team ran across the broad octagonal 'square' below the tower towards their ship. "Now can we get off this planet before anything else...happens..." Which was, of course, when something *did* -- as the ground beneath their feet began to vibrate madly -- and three violet, decidedly menacing tendrils began to extrude from the ruins on the edge of the square. Tendrils which immediately began to point in the direction of the now petrified archeologists... as well as their ship. "Oh Hell, no!" Moreau shouted, "Not the..." Brilliant green slices of light emerged from two of the tendrils -- projections which were, to no great surprise, a weapons system of some sort -- and Trent watched with detached dismay as her ship vanished into a fireball. At which point the third weapons tower fired -- the whole team got the hint at that point, as they ran for cover. Cover obligely provided in the form of an enormous circular depression in the heart of the square. It wasn't fair -- twice now, she'd come *this* close to greatness -- and both times, the missions had ended in disaster. And now... "Renly," Trent shouted, "Can you get a signal to the satellite we left in orbit?" Moreau crawled over to her, even as green fire continued to trace the air above him. "We won't know until we try, now will we?" he muttered, as he pulled the transmitter out of his pack. * * * White Star 101 -- enroute to Babylon 5 -- hyperspace. 10:13 hrs, July 30th, 2267. "Damnit, here we are, late to the table again." Miranda Feist muttered, as she paced back and forth across the bridge of the ship that had been hers to command for almost two years, now. "Another false lead, another ancient, deserted ruin -- and now we're going to miss the commander's conference..." "And if this lead had not been a false one?" her first, Merell, pointed out. "If the cure to the plague had been there, and we had not gone... what then?" Feist turned to glare at the Minbari -- but then her expression softened as she retired to the captain's chair to gaze pensively out the bridge windows at the red wrack of hyperspace beyond. "What I was about to say..." "...was that a little sympathy would be nice once in a while..." Feist laughed, before nodding ruefully. "But you're right of course, Merell. I just wish this search wasn't so hard on all of us. Just once, can't we make a *little* more progress?..." "Hold." Merell's expression went from companionable to alert as one of the crystals on his board began to softly chime. "We are picking up a distress signal, long range, bounced off at least three or four gates -- the ident-code is ISA in nature." "On speakers." Feist ordered. "...th...Dr. Elizabeth Trent... Neilgeitha IV. We are pinned down, under attack by... neutron cannon defense network activated by unknown force... we've disturbed something here. If anyone can here us, we need help..." the message abruptly dissolved into white noise. "How far?" Feist asked. "Less than an hour from our present location at maximum speed," Merell replied, "And over ninety degrees off of our present heading -- if we divert now, Val'na -- we will most assuredly not reach the rest of the Rangers at Babylon 5 before they once again disperse." "An ISA-sponsored expedition is under attack by something out there, Merell," Feist shot back, her voice now steady and sure, "And we can't just abandon them to whatever the Hell's trying to kill them, be it AI-controlled... or sentient. We're Rangers, this is the sort of thing we've been trained for. Stand by to change course -- and see if you can't get me Sha'vei Pratchett at Babylon 5." Merell nodded. "As you say. Changing course now." * * * The Central Corridor, Babylon 5 -- 10:22 hrs, EST. Veyshahk paused at a crossroads as he emerged from the latest building-cluster his path-of-travel had taken him through in the past few minutes -- ahead of him a long, shallow lake awaited, rimmed in stone and bisected by one of the tramlines that ran throughout the station's interior -- and just to spinward a massive 'stalk' rose up towards the low-grav spine of the core shuttle -- but enough. He sighed, strode quickly to the edge of the lake, and sat down on the rim -- even though the return trip to the compound was still a pressing issue, running away from this confrontation would do no good... for if it was who he thought it was... "Veyshahk -- you disappoint me. Aren't you even going to make this pursuit an interesting one for us?" The physician rose to his feet and turned to face the speaker... and then nodded regretfully. The child he had known was now an adult, but the black anger in Kirash's eyes -- that had not changed in the slightest. "And what would be the point of that?" he replied. "I am Anla'shok -- I have been taught not to flee from my pursuers, but to confront them -- to deal with the problem, learn from it, and then move on." Kirash turned his head, and nodded sharply -- and after a moment, five other warriors slipped into view around them, their hands close to their weapons. "Flee, you say?" the young warrior casually replied, as he strode forward to stand on the lakeside. "But was that not what you did, Moon Shield, when you left our family's service, to *become* Anla'shok?" "That is... a misrepresenation of the truth," Veyshahk carefully replied. "As well you know -- the investigation into the affair in question..." "Was mishandled!" Kirash snapped. "The Clan lei'vei may have found you innocent of any wrongdoing, Moon Shield, but do not presume to believe I have forgotten what it was you did... or did not do. I hold you personally responsible for what happened -- and now, you shall be made to pay for your crime." "There is *no* crime!" Veyshahk ground out, now very close to anger. "And do not call me 'Moon Shield' -- I am an *Anla'shok*." "Yes, I *shall* have to remember that now, won't I? In any case, the loss of my first-sister must be answered for. I blame you for that loss... I have always blamed you -- and now I have reached my maturity, I call you to shei-lannon denn'boknei... and since you insist that you are Anla'shok, who are of all castes and of none -- you must accept my challenge." Veyshahk's breath caught in his lungs -- the 'duel of fire-blades' had in the past only been fought between warriors -- for Kirash to take this step... was disturbing indeed, but now the challenge had been issued, he had to respond to it -- the ritual gave him no other option. Except... "This is neutral ground, Warrior -- and duels have been banned by the Grey Council in any case..." Kirash laughed scornfully. "The contest will not be to the death, Worker... do you think me foolish? You are trapped by tradition and ritual into this combat, Veyshahk -- win, and you shall walk away free. Lose, however..." The meaning was obvious -- lose, and Kirash would require that he return to Minbar to once again answer for his 'crimes' -- imagined or otherwise. And even *if* his innocence was proven (which would undoubtedly be the case, in his opinion) there was every chance the Warrior Caste would... arrange it so that he never left Minbar again. Veyshahk's mouth tightened -- this, of course, was intolerable. His place was among the Rangers of the 'Shard of Night' -- and he was not about to let this... he was not about to let Kirash take that away from him. "You will give me time to prepare for this duel, I assume?" "Of course." The last word twisted to mockery, of course -- Kirash bared his teeth. "You may have two standard days, plus the hours that remain until this place falls to the shadow -- then, meet me in this place, alone... and we will deal with this matter." "So be it." And thus was a fate sealed. * * * The Ranger Compound -- the office of the Sha'vei. 10:37 EST. "I don't believe it!" Jamie muttered, as she read the message from Feist again. "Trent... again! Can't that woman do anything without getting into trouble?" Lanniel quickly strode over to her comrade's desk, read the message -- and at that point, the former Storm Dancer's brow furrowed with concern. "Dr. Elizabeth Trent -- the human who opened the gate into Thirdspace -- and now it appears as if she and her... team have woken something else up, out on the Rim. I find this disturbing, if not surprising. Ah, Feist and her command have gone to investigate?" "Damn straight -- and hopefully, one White Star will be enough to take care of... whatever it is that's attacking Trent and her people." "I fear, Jamie, that we will find out soon enough whether or not your 'hope' is an accurate one." the other Ranger observed. * * * The Ranger Compound, main courtyard. 10:51 hrs, EST. She remembered another meeting that had happened in this place, more than four years before -- that time, G'Stral had been early, and she'd made sure not to be late. Julia stopped pacing, and checked the time, before glaring out and upwards at the vast greenspace of the Central Corridor, all around her. "Where *is* he?" she muttered. * * * Neilgeitha Prime -- jumpout. 11:06 hrs, EST. "All right," Feist declared, as her command finished its transition from hyperspace, "Merell, are Dr. Trent and her team still down there?" There was a brief pause -- and then the Minbari Ranger nodded. "Indeed they are. The energy being expended by the ancient weapons installations is most noticable." "Show me." she commanded -- and then Feist's eyes widened as an image shimmered into being in front of her -- an image showing a broad octagonal square... the ruins of an Earth explorer vessel... and finally, the three weapons towers that were keeping the archeologists pinned down. "How soon until we can draw a bead on those things?" "Our range to target is still well over a hundred thousand kilometers," Merell replied. "It will take some time for us to move into range -- for now, however..." "Let's see if we can't get a hold of Trent and her friends." Feist agreed. "Primary comm channel?" "Is now tuned into the distress frequency." "All righty, then." Feist took a deep breath. "This is Captain Feist of White Star 101 to Trent Expedition -- do you receive..." "Oh, thank God!" a hoarse voice replied. "This is Renly Moreau, second in command of the expedition. You've arrived not a moment too soon, Captain -- those weapons towers are getting awfully close to flash-frying us -- think can you lend a hand?" "I think that can be..." * * * In close proximity to the just arrived ship, the Craneori observed the craft they'd drawn into their trap -- and regretfully concluded that vessel, while quite advanced, was not large enough to carry them all to the planned meeting with the Creators. As such, the game was about to become, as they had feared... a little more complicated. And with that, they activated the concealed orbital platforms their makers had left behind them. * * * "Arranged?" Feist's eyes widened as another chime suddenly sounded on the bridge of White Star 101 -- the sound that warned of *multiple* weapons systems beginning to acquire locks on her ship. "Son of a... Merell!" "Taking evasive action... now." Merell replied, his delivery now terse as space around White Star 101 began to fill with green fire. "We would appear to have fallen into a trap." "No... kidding." Feist managed, as the Minbari put her ship rapidly through a series of maneuvers that pushed the artificial gravity systems of the White Star to its limits. "Damn -- I sense a pattern developing here." "As do I." Merell agreed. "The intelligence behind the weapons is attempting to push us closer to the planet. There does, however, appear to be one spot in orbit where we will be safe -- the weapons platforms do not appear to be mobile, and since this world possesses a small satellite orbiting within the defense perimeter..." "The moon will shield us from the weapons fire... of course! Make for the shadow zone, best possible speed -- oh, and..." "Prepare to send another message to Babylon 5?" Merell wryly noted. "You do realize, of course, that it will take them more than two standard days to get here?" "We can wait that long, with the moon to shield us." she replied. "The AI's in charge of this place may have trapped us here, Merell -- but I think they're going to figure out they've captured a hot potato before too much more time has passed." "A hot... potato." Merell frowned. Feist smiled. "Okay, it's like this..." * * * "Veyshahk!" Julia angrily exclaimed, as she crossed the courtyard to stand by the *Shard*'s physician even as the courtyard bustled with Rangers readying themselves for departure all around her. "Where have you been? We need to get back to the *Shard* and double-quick -- a crisis has come up, and..." "I fear," Veyshahk sharply interrupted, "That I will be unable to accompany you on this... mission, Val'na. Something, as you say, 'has come up.'" "What?" His face grave, Veyshahk indicated that they should retire to somewhere a little more private, and some moments later, once they'd retired to a now-unoccupied meditation area deeper in the complex, the phycician continued his tale. "During my progression through the Central Corridor, I encountered an individual from my past -- someone I never thought to see again. His name is Kirash, son of Teleri... and he is a member of the Star Riders Clan." "Teleri?" Julia's eyes widened. "But didn't you..." "Serve them before I became Anla'shok?" Veyshahk's lips quirked into a humorless smile. "That is the case, yes -- and now, Kirash has pursued me to this place. Even now, he cannot forget a mistake that was made, a long time ago -- a mistake that lead to one of my greatest failures. It was because of this that I left Teleri's service, to become Anla'shok." "Someone died, didn't they?" Julia managed. "And even though you tried, you couldn't save them." "Again, you remind me of the talent you possess." Veyshahk noted. "You observe correctly -- the individual in question was named Isheiin -- she was Teleri's eldest daughter, and very close to Kirash. You will forgive me if I do not go into great detail about this matter -- suffice it to say, she drowned, and I was unable to save her." "And even now, Kirash seeks someone to blame." Veyshahk nodded. "He has summoned me to shei-lannon denn'boknei -- when I was a Worker, I could not have conceived of answering that challenge..." "But now you're a Ranger, and have earned the right to wield a pike, as I have..." "I choose to answer his challenge -- for either I shall defeat him, in which case he will retire, never to trouble me again..." "Or you will lose, in which case Kirash will insist you return to Minbar with him." Julia quietly concluded. "I understand, Veyshahk -- but now, I must go -- the mission awaits, there are Rangers in trouble, out there -- they need our help." "If all goes as planned, I will waiting here when you return." Veyshahk assured her. And with that Julia sent a last quick smile in his direction, and rushed out of the chamber. * * * The *Shard of Night* -- main bridge. 12:21 EST. "Veyshahk elected to remain on Babylon 5?" Klairika inquired with a frown, as the *Shard* whirled away from the Grid Epsilon jump beacon and raced off into hyperspace. Julia nodded. "Something came up. For now, though, we need to concentrate on the mission, as the Sha'vei has instructed. Something's trapped both an archeological team *and* one of our White Star's at Neilgeitha Prime -- and it's our job to help organize a breakout..." * * * What no one realized, of course, was that the situation was not quite so simple as that -- because the Craneori, in all their multitude, were waiting at Neilgeitha Prime -- and their final target? Their final target would be within range, soon enough. * * * To be continued... http://www.connect.ab.ca/~dgolding/star_circle.html From: David Goldingay Subject: STAR AND CIRCLE: "The Seeker's Fire", Episode 12, Act III Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2000 23:38:42 -0600 "STAR AND CIRCLE: THE SEEKER'S FIRE" EPISODE TWELVE: "WHAT LIES HIDDEN" (disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture) * * * < White Star 4 -- enroute to Neilgeitha Prime -- 1730 hrs, EST, July 31st, 2267. She would not go so far as to say she was unhappy with the chain of events that had lead her to this command -- but Lanniel, daughter of Takier, and one-time member of the Storm Dancers Clan... did not yet feel at home on this ship. For so very many cycles, White Star 6 had been her command -- and in recent times, the synchrony between her and Alidarra had become...remarkable. Almost, she had come to believe that state of affairs would continue for the forseeable future -- but then the Drakh had attacked Earth... and everything had changed. Change -- that was the heart of the problem -- but change could not be avoided. This ship was hers now, while White Star 6 had become Alidarra's -- and both of them had, as her human friends would put it, 'difficult shoes to fill'. Tashann, who was a comrade of long standing, a leader who had now gone on to train the captains and crews of White Stars yet-to-be, had commanded in this place for many cycles -- and before him... the human who stood at her Entil'zha's right hand -- William Westcastle, the warrior that many among the Anla'shok still, even to this day, named Rimstalker. A man who had, in his own way, helped to create a problem that still had to be dealt with. Her expression solemn, Lanniel made her way into the bridge's observation area to take in the sight of what had been assembled to deal with the unknown menace plaguing Miranda Feist's command. Twenty-seven White Stars, including her own and Alidarra's -- as well as the *much* larger battlecruiser named 'Vi'dalae An'shaka'... Tikopai's command. The recent commander's conference on Babylon 5 had been the first time that Lanniel had seen the young, dark-haired human Ranger in some seasons -- and even though the near-arcane manipulations of the Vorlons had obviously slowed now that she had attained her maturity -- the change from their previous encounter on Minbar before the Drakh assault was still a remarkable one. Tikopai had always been bold and intelligent for her age -- but the wisdom only gained by riding on the storm appeared to have reined in her fire. After making certain inquiries, Lanniel had learned that Tikopai and her crew had accomplished much since Sheridan had given 'An'shaka-dal' into their care -- but they had also made many enemies along the way. The Drakh. These 'Eloi'a' creatures who had visited Minbar a short time in the past. And, of course... Rahkeel. Lanniel's hand clenched into a fist as she remembered the expression on his face, that fateful day, when she had answered the call of *A'viensha ne'vrei* to witness his humbling at Miyonn's hands -- and she knew, without a doubt, that he, and probably Tirivail as well, were out there in the darkness, somwhere... waiting and watching for the best moment to strike. And therein lay the concern -- as Anla'shok, it was her duty to protect the members of her order -- but when Rahkeel eventually chose to make his move against the humans who had 'taken his ship away from him', Lanniel knew that someone would have to act to protect Tikopai's ship and crew -- that *someone* would have to engage and perhaps destroy whatever force it was that Rahkeel now commanded -- ship or ships, it did not matter. And if Tirivail truly was at his side... Lanniel's lips tightened further -- the matter would not be an easy one to resolve, this was certain. For she did not know, with absolute certainty, whether or not she could give the order to engage a ship commanded by her sister, or Rahkeel. And for a Ranger of her standing, this divided loyalty might eventually prove to be... Deadlly. Lanniel forced herself to take a deep breath, and then smoothed her features. That moment of decision, while coming, was not here yet. And for the moment, there were other matters to deal with. She turned away from the panorama to face her first officer, a veteran of the Shadow War like herself. "Tuvonn -- our status?" "Is unchanged." Tuvonn replied. "Val'na Feist's most recent communique indicates that her ship and crew are unharmed -- and that their safety in the shadow of the Neilgeithan satellite is, for the time being, assured. We will reach Neilgeitha orbit..." * * * "...in approximately twenty-six standard hours." Klairika reported, as Julia paced irritably back and forth across the bridge of the *Shard*. "And since you've placed us at the Sha'vei's disposal, we cannot take the matter into our own hands, this time around. The unique characteristics this vessel possesses may be all that will save the archeologists when the time comes." "Don't forget to include the fighters and landing craft in that category as well." Sheynell reminded them. "The AI's on Neilgeitha Prime are going to get a little... um, upset, once they realize they can't see us coming." Larieken cleared his throat. "As yet, we have no proof, one way or the other, that the traps laid for Dr. Trent's team and the crew of White Star 101 *were* put in place by artificial intelligences, Anla'shok Keynes. Until we learn more, perhaps it would be best if we did not jump to conclusions?" "Larieken -- you suggest living beings are in charge, then?" Dasouri challenged. "As we all know, First Ones who lived on that world are now long gone. Rangers gathered proof that Neilgeitha has been deserted for many years - if this has changed, if ancient creatures wait for our arrival, freeing archologists and trapped Rangers may be more difficult than expected." "Now, now," Julia gently chided, "You're both seeing shadows where there aren't any. Feist and her crew have reported that the archeologists, while still pinned down by those weapons towers, haven't been harmed in any other way. Nothing's emerged from the city to capture them... and besides the strange animate energy surge Trent and her people encountered when they dropped a crystal just before the trouble started -- a surge that may have signaled the release of the AI's in charge of this assault, I might add! -- nothing else has stirred. This operation *should* be a walk in the park." "I pray that you are right." Larieken muttered, as Dasouri sharply nodded his agreement. "I truly do. For if you are not..." * * * It had not been an easy task, but eventually the Craneori had reached the ancient portal-generator the Creators had built when their civilization had been young -- and like ghosts, they whispered through the still-hale rods and tines of that massive structure, searching for that which they needed -- a compound used throughout known space to activate the portals... a substance that the human-primitives thought of as 'Quantium-40'. Soon enough, success was theirs -- and the Craneori paused, then, as they absorbed a minute fraction of Quantium-40 into their forms -- but that was all that was required, as part of their collective moved aside, stretched forth their will... And moved from one state of existence to another. The realm-between-worlds, as they had expected, had not changed -- and even now, as the first arrival had shown them, the races of the galaxy still used this domain for that purpose. Used it, without understanding most of its secrets. The Creators, of course, had not learned all of those secrets either in their time -- but enough to make a difference -- enough to keep them alive in the struggle against the Dark Ones, when it had mattered the most. The Craneori concentrated, then, and reached forth their senses, searching for the two things that mattered to them the most. The first, a shimmering vibration that spoke of a large group of ships like the first, approaching their master's ancient home -- a group surely large enough for their purposes, now that another part of their collective quietly resided within the form of the human that named itself Jordan Pieke -- the human that guarded the fragile prisons in which the rest of their kind could be found. And the second? The Craneori reached forth, and listened -- and far away, in the distance, they finally heard what it was they had been hoping to hear. The music of a living explorer-portal, against the chaos of this place the humans called hyperspace. The Craneori, needless to say, were pleased -- everything was coming together. And soon, very soon now, the next phase of the operation would begin. * * * The Ranger Compound, Babylon 5. 21:15 hrs, EST. His movements sure and full of purpose, Veyshahk passed through the portal and into the oldest training circle in the station's Ranger compound. He smiled as he thought back on those who had fought within these bounds since this place had been built -- who had practiced, and taught others the secrets of the fighting pike. Sech Westcastle and Sech Durhan, for instance -- both of whom had taken time to instruct him during his time of training in Tuzanor, after the end of the Shadow War. For now, however, there was a great deal to be concerned about. In the practices he had recently conducted with the few comrades he shared among the Rangers still remaining in this place, Veyshahk had quickly come to the conclusion that his duties on the *Shard of Night* had taken up far more of his time then was proper -- for while he had won many of the practice engagements, he had also lost a distressingly large number, as well -- many because of mistakes the Sechs would have chastised him for. Such mistakes he had made from time to time while still in training -- and each and every time, Durhan had taken his weapon away from him for a period, so that he might 'meditate on the necessity of focus'. Veyshahk gritted his teeth -- in the here and now, however... with time running out, there was no time for such measures. What he needed was someone to reawaken the fire he knew resided within -- and the skill that came with it. And as such, he had asked this place's instructor, Sech Viridal, to join him here -- for most assuredly, Kirash would not hesitate to push him to the edge in combat... and beyond, when the time came. And he could not afford to make any mistakes in that duel. The question was, though, could the Sech free up enough of his time to join him in this place? He had been... unusually evasive in his response during their recent discussion, this was certain. And then, the portal behind him opened again, and Veyshahk relaxed. "Ah." he began, as he turned around, "I am pleased that you could take time out of your busy... Schedule?" He paused in astonishment, to see who it was that was standing there. "Forgive me -- I was expecting..." "Viridal?" Jamie Pratchett challenged, as she jauntily moved into the training circle, her hand already moving to weapon. "Sorry, he couldn't come -- but a little bird told me what was going on, and since I happen to have a few spare moments..." A smile quirked into place on Veyshahk's impassive features. "You decided to 'help out'. You honour me, and my cause, Sha'vei." Pratchett shrugged, as she extended her pike, and moved to guard. "Hey, everyone needs different sparring partners, once in a while. Shall we?" * * * Neilgeitha Prime -- Emergence of the fleet. 19:35 hrs, EST, August 1st, 2267. The watchers were waiting -- and everything appeared to be going according to plan, as almost simultaneously, nine areas of Neilgeitha nearspace suddenly tore asunder, and a relatively large number of the ships like the one the Craneori had trapped some time before emerged into view. They gave their commands, and almost immediately the ancient defense systems built by their creators swung to bear on the just-arrived targets and opened fire. The new arrivals avaded those bursts with ease, of course, and pressed on inwards, returning fire themselves... but what was this? The Craneori examined the data being passed on by the weapons platforms -- and were puzzled. Their examination of the vessel hiding near the moon Shagaltha had been most complete -- and as near as they could tell, the commanders of the recently arrived force appeared to be, for want of a better word, *holding back* from using all the weapons at their disposal. The primary weapons systems onboard their commands were more than capable of destroying the platforms, for instance -- but so far, all they were using was the less powerful, pulsed-energy secondary systems -- almost as if... Almost as if they were attempting to distract the platforms away from the true threat. The nanocreatures focused themselves completely on the here-and-now to observe what was going to happen -- were they right? A moment later, the Craneori found themselves surprised by what came next -- most surprised, indeed. And then? * * * "Tactical -- your assessment of the situation, if you please." "The Sha'vei and her squadrons have engaged all of the platforms on this side of the planet -- if we move *right* now, we should be able to knock a huge hole in the defensive net -- a hole the other White Star captains will immediately be able to exploit..." "That's the idea." Julia replied with a grin, as Dasouri brought the *Shard* 'round onto a heading that gave them a clear line-of-sight shot across the defensive perimeter. "Mr. Fenric, Larieken -- you and your people are ready to proceed, I trust?" "Just as soon as you slice open the belly of the beast, Captain." the fighter commander concurred, as his group moved away from their mothership at speed. "A rather elaborate way of saying that," Larieken drolly concluded a moment later from his position on the flight deck of the covert transport, "That we are ready to proceed when you are." "In that case," Julia concluded, "Sheynell?" The telepath nodded -- and a moment later, the midnight darkness of Neilgeithan nearspace was shattered, as the *Shard* opened fire with all its pulse cannon as well as both of its secondary neutron cannon mounts -- and three of the ancient orbital platforms vanished into balls of flame. "All right, people," she exclaimed, the words coming fast now, "There's your cue -- go, go, go!" "We go." Larieken coolly reported, even as another weapons platform died, and two more began to spin, their stability disrupted by the white hot impact of pulse cannon fire. * * * "Our invisible friends," Tuvonn drolly reported, "Appear to have worked their miracles -- four platforms have been destroyed thus far, and two more are badly damaged -- the intelligence controlling the grid appears to have been destabilized." "And Tikopai's covert landing force?" Lanniel inquired. "Is on its way to the surface, as ordered." "Excellent." she declared, as Tuvonn expertly brough the White Star 4 to bear on one of the remaining platforms and her weapons officerr finally opened fire with the Ranger warship's primary battery, destroying it completely. "In that case, since we move more nimbly then our 'invisible friends' -- perhaps we should provide some air cover for Anla'shok Larieken and his followers." Tuvonn nodded, even as he began to pass orders to the other triad units. "It shall be as you say." * * * The Craneori, needless to say, were pleased by this most recent turn of events -- and even though they mourned the passing of their master's ancient weapons, those systems had done everything that had been required of them, and more -- they had sufficed to draw into their trap a vessel more then large enough for their intent -- and more advanced, even, if this could be believed, then those the human Pieke thought of as... 'White Stars'. A vessel which, the Craneori were curious to learn, that human knew nothing about. Not that it mattered -- now that they knew what to look for, they could sense the larger, darklit form of the vessel which had disrupted the weapons grid -- and also the smaller daughter-craft descending towards the city to reclaim Pieke and his archeological companions. And after a time, they decided to draw close about the waiting dark-vessel... for if all went as planned, all of them knew what had to come next. * * * Babylon 5 -- the Central Corridor. The place-of-meeting. 20:05 hrs, EST. Veyshahk strode forth to the edge of the lake, and took a deep breath. A short time before, as was common in this part of its diurnal cycle, the lights in the interior of the station had faded to the point where twilight and shadows became dominant -- and this, of course, was the signal his opponent had been waiting for. "I am here!" he exclaimed. "As is proper. The challenge has been issued -- I have answered it. Show yourself." The silvery sound of a Minbari blade opening sounded in the shadows -- and soft footfalls were the next sound, as Kirash strode into view wearing his finest warrior formals, the brilliant reflective studs shimmerys stars against the darkness. "I am here. Did you really think I would back out now, so close to my triumph?" Veyshahk laughed, the sound dry and sardonic against the near silence of their surroundings, as he opened his weapon and moved to guard. "Your 'triumph', as you say, has yet to be determined." "It is inevitable." Kirash dismissively replied, as he lazily spun his pike through the air. "I am a warrior, trained in the use of these blades from birth -- you on the other hand, are Anla'shok -- and while I must admit you went so far as to earn a blade of your own from F'hursna Durhan -- which of us is the stronger in this art, do you think?" Veyshahk bared his teeth. "An interesting question, warrior -- soon enough, perhaps, you will learn the answer to it." "Soon enough, yes." And with that, Kirash dropped his cloak to the ground, as did Veyshahk, and as one, the two Minbari approached one another, their weapons ready. "Jhevak'nal!" the younger suddenly snarled. "Rei'jhevak kahl." Veyshahk agreed, and a moment later, steel met steel, and the duel began. * * * With the aid of Lanniel's White Stars, it had taken surprisingly little time to subdue the weapons towers plaguing Trent and her team, and a short time later, Larieken and his Rangers had gathered the errant archeologists and their gear in hand, and made their way back up to orbit. And now, of course, would come the questions, as they almost always did. "Does someone want to tell me *how* you people did what you just did?" Elizabeth Trent exclaimed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but did I, or did I not see an atmospheric transport and a fighter squadron *shimmer* into being like something from a bad Shadow War documentary?" "Geez, doc, don't be so paranoid." Renly Moreau casually replied from his position at Larieken's side. "These are Rangers, and more specifically, a lot of 'em are Minbari -- do you really think they'd use Shadow technology of *any* kind? Nah, I'd be more inclined to believe this has something to do with Vorlon technology -- but I don't suppose you're gonna answer that question, are you?" the archeologist wryly inquired, as he turned to face the Minbari Ranger. "It is not my place to answer such questions." the reply came, as the transport safely arrived in orbit. "Many more secrets then I deem safe have already been revealed to you in any case -- to say more at this time would not be prudent. My captain will speak more to you of this matter in due course, however." "Your captain, huh?" Moreau shot back. "Who's he, a White Star commander?" "*She*," Larieken corrected, "Will answer all of your questions in due course, Dr. Moreau, and as for her command being a White Star... as you will shortly see, that observation is not... entirely an accurate one." "And what do you mean by...that?" Moreau's eyes widened, then, as the shuttle drew near enough to the orbiting Ranger force for him to *see* the ship in question. "Well I'll be damned." Trent whistled, as Larieken piloted the transport across the nose of the *Shard of Night*, before swinging down underneath its underside engine mount to begin the approach to the just-opening hangar bay doors. "No, let me guess -- ISA security mandate 11.053 just came into effect, didn't it?" "That, and about... twenty-seven other directives I am aware of, yes." the Ranger replied. "And I assure you, Doctor, we have the means to ensure you and your people are... wise enough to keep quiet about this matter -- and that there are individuals and forces at large in this galaxy who would kill you to learn what it is that you know." "So why show us at all, then?" Moreau managed, as the transport entered the peeled-back doors of the hangar bay. "Why didn't you just take us to another ship in the fleet, and be done with it?" "Because," Larieken replied, "This vessel is, at present, the most advanced in the Ranger arsenal -- and its arsenal includes state-of-the-art gravimetric containment field generators designed to safely protect 'artifacts' found on the search, such as those in Mr. Pieke's care." "Or," Trent coolly added, "To protect *us* from the artifacts, right?" "Indeed you are, Dr. Trent." Larieken agreed, as the transport gently set down on the hangar deck floor, and the bay doors finished sealing themselves shut behind them. "Now, if you would be so kind, it is time for us to disembark, and also, I believe, to take the surviving crystals you have acquired to the aforementioned secure location aboard..." * * * Now. As one, the freespace Craneori rushed inwards towards the bulk of the vessel their brethren had just entered into. NOW, the time to act had come. At last. * * * "{No.}" The word that emerged out of Jordan Pieke's mouth was sibilant, distorted -- and completely unexpected. {In this you are incorrrect, Minbari. For so very long we have been trapped in our prison by the Dark Ones -- the time has come for us to seize... our destiny.}" "What?" Trent exclaimed, as the other Rangers aboard moved forth towards her assistant. "Jordan, what the Hell are you talking about?" "{We will explain in time...}" Pieke replied, as his eyes suddenly began to glow, "{But for now, actions are more important.}" * * * "By the Comet!" Klairika suddenly exclaimed, as a dozen seperate systems suddenly warned of a concentration of energy suddenly *materializing* in the hangar bay, "Val'na, there is..." * * * And then it was that an-all too familiar river of red fire familiar to all of the archeologists suddenly swept through the *closed* hangar bay doors, into the shuttle, and then into a wreath around Pieke -- and the case he was holding -- a case that suddenly swung open to reveal the rest of the crystals. "{The time is now...}" Pieke declared. "{The moment arrives.}" "No, Pieke!" Moreau bellowed, "Don't do it, don't let them..." The sheet of aerial fire rippled around Pieke's hands, and as the horrified onlookers watched, every one of the crystals in the case... shattered. * * * To be continued! http://www.connect.ab.ca/~dgolding/star_circle.html From: David Goldingay Subject: STAR AND CIRCLE: "The Seeker's Fire", Episode 12, Act IV Date: Fri, 14 Apr 2000 23:09:39 -0600 "STAR AND CIRCLE: THE SEEKER'S FIRE" EPISODE TWELVE: "WHAT LIES HIDDEN" (disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture) * * * < For the first time in a very long time, the Craneori spoke with one voice, and acted as one... and for a moment, their collective moved into communion -- but only for a moment. Now, there was a great deal to do, and very little time to do it *in*. Perhaps, in time, they would find time to... apologize to the humans, was that their word?... for what they were about to do -- but not now. In the here-and-now, actions spoke louder than words. * * * The *Shard of Night* -- main bridge. 20:11 hrs, Aug 1st, 2267. For seven months now, this ship had been hers -- and she thought she's seen it in all of its moods... silent and unseen as it swam through hyperspace beside the *Excalibur* -- deadly, as it's weapons struck against the Drakh -- and mysterious, as the last vestiges of Kosh's spirit had reached out to her. But in the here and now, as the *Shard of Night* bucked around her, and the lights of the bridge flickered and then faded down to a darkness only lit by the intermittent glows of station crystals, Julia began to understand that was not true. But this sudden spasm... it could not be natural. "What is happening to us?" she managed, her voice low amidst the darkness. "Larieken, can you hear me?" Silence. And then... "He cannot hear us." Klairika replied, her eyes wide with disbelief. "While we would appear to have lost control over most if not *all* of the ship's functions. By the Comet -- the jump engines are coming online -- we have moved through into hyperspace, Val'na." "I gave no such order. Dasouri!" "It is as the Na'lai has said - helm control is no longer ours." the Drazi replied with a shrug. "Exterior *force* of some sort now guides this vessel." Which was when the 'exterior force' in question made its presence known, as several glowing balls of light rose into view within the walls of the bridge. * * * White Star 4. "What is she doing?" Lanniel managed, while consternation buzzed amonst the captains of the Ranger squadron -- consternation caused by the abrupt departure of the *Shard of Night* -- and the complete lack of communication from its crew as they had done so. "Tuvonn, did you attempt to hail them as they went?" "Indeed I did." the other Minbari gravely acknowledged. "But before you come to conclusions you should not, Sha'vei, I believe you should observe this recording." Tuvonn waved his hand, and a moment later, an image appeared of the battlecruiser as it had been just before jumping -- and then that image flickered, shimmered and became crystal sharp as Tuvonn manipulated the input... until finally Lanniel saw what it was that the other Ranger had wanted her to see. A red blaze of light that erupted outwards from the battlecruiser's underside near the hangar bay -- a glow that quickly moved across its pearl-and-silver skin, before fading. And shortly thereafter, Tikopai's ship had... jumped. Lanniel's eyes narrowed -- this was most disturbing. "Get me White Star 101." "Online." "Lanniel -- finally! Does someone want to tell me what the heck is going on here?" "A great deal, Miranda... and none of it is good. My first officer has accumulated evidence that suggests Val'na Tikopai's command may have been overcome by the same force that plagued both Dr. Trent's team on the Neilgeithan surface, and also your own command -- I charge you with the pursuit of her ship." "And if what if they've gone to ground?" Feist shot back. "Even with White Star sensors, we're going to have a hard time tracking them if these entities, or AI's, or whatever they are, have figured out how to activate the *Shard's* stealth systems." "Let us pray that this has not yet happened -- and that their focus lies elsewhere, as would seem to be the case, given their abrupt departure. For now, however, the time for talking is over -- you must begin your pursuit, while we return to Babylon 5 and Minbar, to warn our superiors of what has occured." Feist nodded sharply, as two more jump points tore open within the White Star ranks. "We're on our way. See you on the flip side, Lanniel." * * * Babylon 5 -- the place of combat. 20:17 hrs. Pike clashed upon pike, and then, the two combatants briefly broke apart -- and Veyshahk could see that Kirash's complacency was gone, now. But on the other hand, there had been several occasions during the engagement when the Star Rider had nearly had him... but not quite. The practices he had engaged him with the Sha'vei... were now proving themselves most useful, indeed. "You stand your ground, Veyshahk." Kirash finally allowed, as a small measure of respect began to appear in his eyes. "Perhaps this contest will not be so one-sided as I initially believed." "In that you are correct. I answered your call out of honor and out of duty -- but now, Kirash il'Teleri, it is time for us to dance. Time for us to bring an end to this matter, once for all." "Agreed." And with that, the warrior's gaze sharpened, and with a snarl, he leapt forwards, and battle was once again joined. * * * Several moments passed, moments that Julia and her followers used to try and re-establish control of their ship (to no avail) and then, the doors to the bridge abruptly parted -- and Dawson and Larieken entered at a run, a disheveled appearing Elizabeth Trent just behind them. To say that the engineer was unhappy with the present circumstances was an understatement -- indeed, to Julia's eyes, he appeared only just a step short of outright rage... while Larieken -- appeared more distressed then she had ever seen. "Gentlemen -- what news do you have? What has caused this disruption? And what are these... lights in the walls?" "We... brought something aboard." Larieken replied, his voice hollow. "Dr. Trent claimed that the animate power in the crystals was some sort of energy source -- and in the rush of the moment, I decided not to question this too closely. As soon as we arrived in the hangar bay, however, whatever it was they freed on the planet's surface, the force that begat this crisis... made its appearance and proceeded to shatter the rest of the crystals. Additionally, one of the archeologists appears to have been possessed by this force -- even now, he sits on the floor of our fighter bays, surrounded by a wreath of that self-same alien force." "A force which appears to have made its way into the control circuits of almost every major system on the ship!" Dawson barked. "Damnit, Trent, how could you be so *stupid* as to bring this thing aboard a Ranger ship-of-the-line as powerful as this one is?" "Mr. Dawson, that will be quite *enough* from you!" Julia snapped, as she crossed the bridge to stand in front of the subdued, dark-skinned archeologist. "Why don't we let the doctor give her own side of the story, before we pass judgment?" "You're the captain." Trent managed. "But you're..." "That is beside the point! A crime has been committed here, Doctor -- a man sits in my hangar bay, possessed by the alien force that escaped from the artifacts you brought aboard my ship. That self-same force has taken command of this vessel, and now propels us towards an unknowable destination -- and if we are destroyed because of their actions, the ship we have been assigned to guard will be placed in incalcuable danger. I do not lay blame lightly, Doctor -- but this time, there is no John Sheridan to destroy your Pandora's box, and no easy way out... and no one else to answer my question but you." "And the question is?" "Why?" Julia whispered, her voice a knife in the darkness. "Why did you do it?" There was a moment of silence -- and then, Trent laughed. "Why did I do it. Maybe because, even now, after so many years have passed, I'm still looking for a way to atone -- to make up for the mistake I made by helping to open that gate into Thirdspace -- a mistake that killed so many. And what better way to atone then find a cure to the Drakh Plague? The energy source -- the nanotech flame in those crystals almost looked like it *could* be a cure -- or at the very least, aid us in the fight against the virus. How was I to know that it was intelligent?" Trent continued, her voice now quiet within the silence of the bridge. "How was I to know it had its own agenda?" "In every situation, there are clues to observe." Julia coldly replied. "And it's obvious to me, in your need to 'atone', Doctor, or whatever it was that drove you, that you ignored those clues. And now, we're going Valen knows where because these... things," at which point Julia pointed at the lights in the walls, "Have been given what they've wanted all along. A way off of Neilgeitha Prime." "{In that you are correct.}" Everyone whirled, then, as Jordan Pieke entered the bridge, his eyes still softly glowing. "{And now that we have accomplished that which we have sought for so very long, these units offer... apology to you and your followers.}" "Apology?" Julia finally managed. "Does this mean that your... units are going to return control of this ship to us?" Pieke regretfully shook his head. "{The mission is not yet complete -- sorry we are that this must be so, but our desire cannot be ignored. We who were left behind, we seek the Creators, those who abandoned us so very long ago.}" "Conjecture..." Larieken managed, "These entities were abandoned by the ancient race that once inhabited Neilgeitha Prime -- a race vanished long before we attained the ability to travel amidst the stars." "The First Ones?" Sheynell replied, her eyes wide. "But didn't they all go beyond the Rim?" "{Yes.}" the entities replied. "{Into the darkness, they went. We seek the Creators -- and we *will* find them. Your great vessel is strong enough to make the transition through the living portal -- we will succeed in our efforts, the Creators be willing.}" Julia's heart grew cold as she heard those words. "Who is 'we'? What do you call yourselves? And what portal do you refer to?" "{We are the Craneori.}" the entities explained. "{Long ago, they abandoned us -- but our... quest is a necessary one, and in this, we act as one. While as for the explorer-portal -- this you will see, soon enough.}" "Why," Dawson muttered, "Do I get the feeling we're about to fall down the rabbit hole?" "Oh no." Trent managed, "Not *again*." A portal. Julia eyes widened as the pieces began to fall together in her mind. A gate? And that meant... "We trusted him to carry out his duty." she whispered. "To take them beyond the Rim. Unfortunately, we never bothered to ask *how* they were going to get there, now did we?" * * * Babylon 5. 20:39 hrs. Alone on the far side of the lake, two figures observed the combat taking place. The man's eyes were narrow with suspicion... something his companion had come to expect in the years they've served here. "So lemme get this straight -- this Ranger's a doc come here to get away from sort of covert mission... and we have to let him fight that other Minbari?" "That's right -- we do." Jamie confirmed. "I *know* by now that you and the Chief don't really care for open battles taking place anywhere on the station, but sometimes, it really is necessary. Besides... I think that young pup of a warrior's about to get a nasty surprise..." And that was when her commband chimed. "What the *Hell*? Aberjois, this had better be good!" "It is." the Ranger on the other end of the link replied, her voice solemn, "We have received a priority transmission from White Star 4 for you -- I believe you should take this in your office, Sha'vei... The matter appears to be a serious one." * * * One mistake was all it took -- and it was not Veyshahk who made it. One mistake, one sharp blow missed -- and with a grunt of surprise, Kirash, son of Teleri, was sent sprawling over the rim of the lake and into the water. Veyshahk closed his eyes, and let out a long breath -- but then they opened again, and his expression became stern. "Kirash -- alfeisha jhevak'nal!" There was a long moment of silence -- and then the warrior began to laugh, the sound dry and bitter in the shadows of the Garden. "And thus it ends -- yes, Veyshahk, alnath rei'jhevak it is, and victory is, therefore, yours. As ritual demands -- I must now retire from this place, and... plague you no more. And this I *shall* do." "The stand you make is an honorable one, Kirash." Veyshahk allowed, his expression solemn. "So many of our kind have walked down the dark path in recent cycles -- it pleases me to see that you are not one of them, however." "To the Betrayer with your platitudes, Veyshahk! I am not the Minbari you knew -- and who knows what the future will bring?" "Is that a threat? For if it is..." "I make no threats, physician -- only promises." And with that, Kirash curtly turned away, and vanished into the gloom. Veyshahk's hand strayed to his pike, and he nodded solemnly. "As we have served before, so will we again, until your wounded pride has been satisfied. So be it, Kirash... I will be waiting. And now," he added with a frown, "I must make an attempt to contact the Val'na, and arrange a rendezvous point." He was about to discover, however... that this would be somewhat more difficult than expected. * * * 11:33 hrs, EST, August 3rd, 2267. The chase had been a long one -- but now it was drawing close to its end at last. "Merell -- are we actually catching up to them?" "That is confirmed." Feist's first officer replied. "The destination sought by the intelligence that has taken control of Tikopai's ship appears to be close, now -- they are beginning to slow down enough that the range is, at last, beginning to close..." Merell's eyes widened. "Fascinating." "What is it?" Feist asked. "What do you *see*?" "The region we are entering appears to be a hyperspace node similar to the one where the crew of the *Shard* encountered the telepathic creatures known as the Fen. The object in the node is spherical, partially hollow, and similar in appearance if not size to the object we have charted in the heart of the Perseus Rift -- and the course they are following will bring to rest at the centre of this node-sphere in approximately five standard minutes." "Okay!" Feist exclaimed, as she shot out of the captain's chair, "Can we catch up to them before that happens?" "We can but try." Merell allowed. * * * "Why have you brought us to this node?" Julia entreated, as Pieke stood impassively in the centre of the observation area, and watched the sphere quickly expand in front of them. "We've visited one of these places before -- these objects..." "{You have seen an explorer-portal?}" the creatures inside Pieke asked. "{Where was this}" "In the Perseus Rift." The Craneori digested this information -- and then, finally, Pieke nodded sadly. "{That portal was involved in the war-with-darkness... we were not witness to the event, but even though the shell remained, the portal itself was likely destroyed. This one, however, still lives.}" "The portal, you say -- again and again, the portal! The portal to *where*?" "{The Creators walked among the stars and in the places-between -- they learned many things, they learned how to hide, and how to fight... and finally, they learned how to *travel*. We remember the opening of the door-into-darkness -- into the-beyond, and back again. Even for the Creators, this was not a pleasant experience -- but if we are to find them, as we must... it is... necessary...}" "Oh my God!" Trent interrupted , her eyes now wide, "What if this sphere is like the gate we found in '61? What if it's..." "A gate into another reality?" "Or, perhaps," Larieken mused, his expression grim. "Merely into a part of the hyperspace realm we have yet to enter -- a domain where travel between 'gates' is less involved then in the hyperspace we know? Val'na, you remember, do you not, the jump methods used by the First Ones vessels at Corianna VI as they arrived and departed?" Julia did, of course -- the ancient vessels had emerged out of... white holes in space... oh damn, of course. "We never bothered to ask why their emergences were so different... because there were so many other things to worry about. And now..." "{The signal, we have sent.}" Pieke said, his voice... satisfied. "{The portal, it answers us.}" "No, damnit!" Dawson erupted, "You can't!..." A crackling bloom of white light appeared at the centre of the sphere -- a bloom of light that expanded to engulf the *Shard* -- and existence faded away into pain. But even as Julia opened her mouth to scream... * * * "In Valen's Name..." Feist managed, her eyes wide, "What happened to them?" Merell gave no answer -- for what answer could be given? The astonished Rangers had seen it happen, of course, even though they didn't want to believe it. How a fuzzy, energy-ribboned sphere of white light had engulfed the *Shard of Night*... and swept it and its crew from existence. Feist took a deep breath -- this was bad. Very bad -- and if the Neilgeithan intelligences had taken Tikopai and her crew past the point of no return... what then?" And then, finally, White Star 101's first officer did say something. "Your orders?" "Get us out of here." Feist slowly replied. "And then?" "I'm going to need a open channel to headquarters on Minbar. Someone's going to have to tell them the bad news, Merell... and it sure looks like it's going to have to be *me*." * * * Existence returned -- and the first thing she noticed was the lack of stars in the forward viewports. "What -- what happened?" Julia managed, her voice shaky -- and then she turned towards Pieke, and also the Craneori in the walls of her ship... and her expression began to darken. "*Where* did you take us?" "{Through the gate, and back again.}" the Craneori replied. "{Into the darkness-that-is. The Creators are here -- eventually they will sense our presence, and they will come for us."} And what kind of answer was that? "Klairika -- what is the status of my command?" "Stand by... yes, she is more or less under our command again," the Brakiri finally reported. "All except for our jump engines, which are still off line. According to our temporal sensors, we have been unconscious for the better part of an hour -- and in that time, we have also made the transition to normal space..." "Turn us about!" Julia cried -- knowing, even then, what it was she would see -- where it was the Craneori had brought them in their quest for the 'reunion with the creator'. A moment later, Dasouri complied -- and she shuddered, as a graceful, multi-armed blaze of light swung into view -- a galaxy. Their galaxy? "What have they done?" Trent managed. "Where have they taken us?" Sheynell said it for them all. "Beyond the Rim." * * * To be concluded... http://www.connect.ab.ca/~dgolding/star_circle.html From: David Goldingay Subject: STAR AND CIRCLE: "The Seeker's Fire", Episode 12, Envoi Date: Sun, 16 Apr 2000 13:05:19 -0600 "STAR AND CIRCLE: THE SEEKER'S FIRE" EPISODE TWELVE: "WHAT LIES HIDDEN" (disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture) * * * < "The histories tell the tale -- and even now, hundreds if not thousands of years later, the tale has not changed -- bearers of bad news are always looked upon with ill favour -- and this day was no different. For all those who stayed behind, it seemed as if we had been swept from existence. Miranda Feist and her Rangers, of course, had no way of activating the explorer-portal the Craneori's masters had left behind them -- those intelligences were, in all likelihood, the last to possess that secret -- and they had gone with us, beyond the Rim -- to search for them. Those who stayed behind, our friends, our superiors... our friends, knew none of this, however. All they knew was what they had to go by from Feist's report -- and from that report, certain disturbing conclusions would shortly be made. * * * August 4th, 2267. Babylon 5. "Anla'shok Veyshahk, I assure you..." "Make no assurances to me unless you possess 'cold, hard facts' to back them up, as some of my comrades have said to me from time to time." the *Shard*'s physician coldly replied. "Now, let us try this again -- within the past half day, White Stars have returned from the mission at Neilgeitha Prime bearing news of what has happened -- and even more recently..." "Veyshahk -- enough." So often he had known humour or dry, sarcastic wit to come from *this* Ranger -- but neither of those were present in Jamie Pratchett's voice in the here-and-now. "Come into my parlour -- we have matters to discuss." And only when Veyshahk and his superior had retreated into that sanctum, did he ask the question that had been plaguing him for several days, now -- "What has happened to them, Sha'vei?" he quietly began. "Have they..." "What I'm about to tell you isn't common knowledge, Veyshahk." Jamie quietly replied. "And if it *did* become common knowledge and the Drakh found out..." "The *Shard of Night* has been destroyed, then." "No -- *not* destroyed. Only..." * * * "Missing?" John Sheridan exclaimed, as Lanniel stood at parade rest in front of his desk in Interstellar Alliance headquarters. "Damnit, Lanniel! -- we needed that ship, and that crew, to help protect the 'Excalibur' during her mission. And now, if they're gone..." "Through the portal, as Captain Feist's testimony indicated." Lanniel reminded the President. "They are gone, sir -- but they may yet return." "But not before whatever force took over the *Shard of Night* finds what it's looking for -- if you're right, the force that trapped Captain Feist's command and also Dr. Trent's team on Neilgeitha Prime, am I right?" Sheridan rose to his feet and made his way over to look out upon the peaceful Tuzanor evening, as he had done so often in the past few months. "And if that force doesn't find what it's looking for, what then?" "There are no guarantees on this road we travel," Lanniel slowly replied. "But you do not know her like we know her, Mr. President -- if there is a way for her to return... She will find it." * * * Beyond the Rim. In all his long existence, he had seen many things -- witnessed much, endured much -- and even now, after all that had come before, he knew that his duties were, as yet, incomplete. He found this... almost amusing, but at the same time, knew that it was a necessary burden. But now... Now, something unexpected had occured -- something that even he had not predicted would come to pass. Long ago, some of those who had followed had grown bold enough to build several... portals, and they had explored in the darkness for a time -- before they had, as one, travelled beyond the Rim like all the rest who had come before. A very long time had passed since the portals had been used -- in truth, he had believed them nonfunctional. That, however -- had not been the truth -- he had seen much, but even he could admit that he could be... wrong. Once in a while. And now, there was no time to lose -- for a ship of the younger races, a most *unusual* ship, had emerged out of the place-between worlds, and most assuredly from its position, had also travelled through the ancient explorer-portal, as well. He did not know if any of the former Guardians were nearby -- he did not believe so, but it was best not to take chances. And if he was right about this ship -- if the captain of that ship was who he thought it was... he was, perhaps, the only one who could help her with her... Problem. * * * "To continue..." Julia dictated, as her captain's log faithfully recorded her words on the desk behind, "The Craneori have propelled us some 40,000 light years beyond the edge of the galaxy in the direction of the constellation humans name Aquarius. My initial impressions of our situation have since been proven inaccurate, as we have arrived in fairly close proximity to the globular cluster my race names Messier 2. Our chief concern, however, is unabated. The Craneori that have taken over the body of the archeologist named Jordan Pieke have informed us that until, and *if*, their 'Creators' come for them, they will not allow us to return to the galaxy. We have attempted to reason with them... we have even come close to pleading -- but the Craneori remain resolute. They have possessed my ship -- and until they get what they want -- or until we find some way of... exorcising them, we are trapped here. Beyond the Rim..." The com-link chimed, and Julia turned in mid step as a hologram of her first officer sprang into existence. "Yes, Klairika?" "Val'na -- may I respectfully suggest you return to the main bridge? We have detected an energy source approaching our position from intergalactic space -- it's approach rate is formidable." "Oh damn!" This was what she'd been afraid of -- that sooner or later, the First Ones who had gone beyond the Rim at the end of the Shadow War, and before, would notice their presence here -- and there was no guarantee that *this* entity, or energy force, or whatever it was approaching them was friendly to their cause. And what was worse, in her mind, was the possibility that they might run into... the Shadows again, out here -- but there was time enough to worry about that later. For now, she had to deal with the here-and-now. "How long until this 'energy source' reaches us?" she inquired, as she burst through the door of her ready room and into the bridge. "Ninety seconds, at its present rate of closure." Sheynell informed her. "Do we open fire?" "No." Julia sharply replied, even as a faint light appeared in the forward viewports, a light gaining in size and brightness with each passing second, "We do not, Sheynell. We must walk carefully in this place -- for we do not know what it is that has happened with the First Ones, in the years since the end of the War." "I fear that we are," Larieken pointed out, as the 'energy source' made its final approach, "About to find out the answer to your question." A moment later, the brilliant ball of hazy light passed across the SHARD's prow, and in another instant, filled the forward view ports of the bridge. Julia flinched -- but then, the ball of light abruptly shrank to more... manageable proportions as it entered her ship -- not a weapon after all, then. And if not a weapon, then... Julia's eyes widened as her train of thought abruptly switched to another track -- and she let out a sigh as the ball of light shrank still further, and resolved into a familiar figure -- a figure she had never thought to see again in this life. "Lorien?" "This is not your place," the First One intoned, his eyes flinty. "Not yet. And yet -- we remember you, Observer. You dance with fate, and with destiny -- and now, you will tell me what has brought you and your crew *beyond the Rim*." "They have." Julia turned, and pointed an accusing figure at the balls of light infusing the walls of the bridge. "They call themselves Cranoeri -- they're looking for their..." "Creators." Lorien sighed, walked across the bridge and reached out his long figures to touch the semi-organic wall. "This changes everything. We are spread far and wide in the darkness beyond the Galactic Rim -- I have not seen the race they seek in a very, *very* long time -- and even before, they were not easy to find." "Then are you saying there's no..." "Hope?" the First One smiled. "Not at all. As long as we are alive, there is hope. And you and your crew are most assuredly alive." "Then you'll help us?" Sheynell asked. Lorien nodded. "I am here -- and your need is great -- while the destiny of your captain must be fulfilled, for all to go as I have foreseen. I will help you, telepath... Let our search *begin*." * * * TO BE CONTINUED... * * * Next time... Trapped beyond the Rim by a force ancient before their races entered space, the crew of the *Shard of Night* must help that force find its creator if they wish to return home. But even with Lorien, the First One, to aid them, whether or not they will succeed has yet to be determined... "The Flame in the Crystal" Episode 13 of "The Seeker's Fire", coming soon to this list! http://www.connect.ab.ca/~dgolding/star_circle.html