From cstokes@aladdin.co.ukSun Jan 14 14:10:40 1996
Date: Sun, 14 Jan 1996 20:31:38 GMT
From: Chris Stokes <cstokes@aladdin.co.uk>
Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net
To: b5-creative@blob.best.net
Subject: Schism

This is my first posting, so please don't go over the top with any
criticism, but I would appreciate any constructive advice/praise/thoughts.
Note, the Vylor are a totally personal invention, but I believe everything
else is *reasonably* accurate in relation to the B5 universe. This is set
sometime during the first series:
                                Schism
                          
        Garibaldi paced through the busy market. From all sides strange
aliens were bombarding him with a mixture of exotic languages. When he
bothered to look at the traders, perhaps to check that a suspected criminal
still had his stall, he was greeted by a plethora of outlandish bodies and
faces. Of course, he had spent a year now at Babylon 5, and you soon got to
recognise the various species that inhabited the colossal station. Even so,
a new race, however minor, would always be passing through. 
	He noticed two figures in the corner: one seemed to be holding a portable
datapad. Now, he thought, this could be interesting as he began to walk
towards them. Suddenly, his wristcomm bleeped. One of the figures hastily
looked up, and slipped the datapad into his long coat. Garibaldi cursed, and
responded:
	"Garibaldi. What is it?"
	"Hey, Chief. We've got one major disturbance in sector 23. You better get
over here fast."
	"Okay. I'm on my way: should be with you in two minutes."
	He shut off the link, took a piercing glance at the two characters in the
shadows, and hurried off through the crowds. Once out of the marketplace, he
entered a quiet accommodation area and was soon at Sector 23. Even before he
turned the corner, he could hear angry shouts.
	It was not difficult to pinpoint the problem with that uproar, and even
easier when a window shattered as an alien was thrown bodily through it
accompanied by a scream. Garibaldi sprinted forward into the establishment,
which was, almost inevitably, a bar. There were three grey-suited security
guards in there; totally inadequate against the swirling mass of alien
brawlers, who were all of the same species. Garibaldi instantly recognised
them: Vylor. They were a pretty unknown race, a member of the League of
Non-Aligned Worlds, but one that hardly drew attention to themselves. Other
than that, Garibaldi was fully ignorant of these dark mottled-skin humanoids.
	He joined the security guards and requested back-up. Meanwhile, he guided
his men into the fray. Once Garibaldi had turned up, many of the fighters
had left, but there was still about ten who would not stop, and so had to
pay for their ferocity by being arrested.
	"Leave it!" Garibaldi yelled as he pulled yet another combatant away;
jamming the large, blocky head against an upturned table. Soon there was
only two snarling Vylors in the middle of the room. Garibaldi pointed his
laspistol at them. "Don't move," he ordered. The back-up team arrived and
led the eight or so arrested Vylors away, and the two original security men
'cuffed the last two. The one on the right, slightly taller, growled at his foe.
	"House Kar will be crushed: everyone knows they are *cowards*."
	The other Vylor wrestled free from the guard, and launched himself, still
cuffed, at the other. His manouvere ended with him sprawled on the floor, as
he lost his balance only feet away from his opponent, and Garibaldi was soon
on him. The standing Vylor laughed. "Cowards!"

	Fifteen minutes later, Garibaldi was inside Commander Sinclair's office.
	"So. These Vylor: why were they fighting?" Sinclair asked.
	"We've asked the prisoners, and it seems on the Vylor homeworld, there's
been a revolution."
	"A revolution?"
	"Yeah. I've checked up on the files, and Vylor government is an advanced
oligarchy. Run on the system of great families."
	"You mean like the Centauri?"
	"That's right. It's probable that the Vylor homeworld was once part of the
Republic. Anyway, House Kar has rebelled against the current ruling House.
Apparently, Kar is the most powerful of the military houses at the moment,
so they're not lacking in troops."
	"Why did they rebel?"
	"House Jhul - that's the ruling House - is selling out to a corporation. I
don't have any more details, but, whatever, Arch-Duke Kar is *not happy*."
	"Okay. Let's see: I want as much information as you can get on the current
situation. Secondly, do the Vylor have a representative on B5?"
	"Sure. I've contacted him already: Arch-Marshall Ito' San' Jhul."
	"Great. You want to run that mouthful past me again."
	"Ito' San' Jhul. Haven't a clue what it means, but it's got Jhul in it. So,
don't go offending the great Royal Arch-Duke Jhul. I've heard these Vylor
can get quite nasty when you insult their traditions."
	"I'll try not to."
	Sinclair's wristcomm went off, and he apologised to Garibaldi. Before he
could respond, the wristcomm started in the soothing, female voice of the
Babcom computer network.
	"Na'tan of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds wishes to speak with you.
Please go to a Babcom terminal at your earliest convenience. Thank-you."
	"What?" Sinclair muttered, "that's only meant to happen if its a top
priority message. Oh well."
	Na'tan was the Cascor representative to the League of Non-Aligned Worlds.
Although the Cascor were a fairly weak race in galactic politics, Na'tan was
a skilled and stubborn politician. Sinclair respected her, but recently she
had been elected spokesperson for the League, and her attitudes were proving
disruptive. Garibaldi diplomatically left as Sinclair flicked on the wall
monitor, and Na'tan appeared.
	"Good day, Na'tan. What can I do for you?" Sinclair asked reluctantly. He
was expecting to be interrogated over something.
	"I have come to ask for your help. The League is being threatened."
	"By who?"
	"By itself, Commander. You have heard of the Vylor revolution, I presume."
	"Yes."
	" It is tearing the league apart. Commander, there are many intricate
alliances within the League, many that even I do not know about. You humans,
and the Centauri and Narn, you may view us as inferior. But we do some
things by ourselves. One of the secret alliances was between the Vylor
government and the Hyach. But there are many sympathisers with the rebels
amongst the League: House Jhul distances the Vylor from the rest of us. When
the revolution came, the Hyach sent troops. This triggered off many other
alliances. Now, virtually the whole League is poised for a war. It must not
happen, Commander. It *mustn't*!"
	"What about your government, Na'tan?"
	"The Cascor are at the moment neutral. But if the Bracfi take up arms, we
must do so too. There may be any number of secret treaties that will force
the Bracfi to fight."
	"What do you want me to do?"
	"Isn't it obvious. Your Babylon 5; *famous across the galaxy* as the last
hope for peace. This is a chance for peace, Commander. I must warn you: do
not be complacent. The Narn are very close to the League. They may be drawn
into the War. And then what? You think the Centauri will stand by and let a
chance to defeat the Narns pass them by? I don't think so. You must help."
	"I'll organise a B5 council today. I must give you a warning too, Na'tan.
If any member of the League attempts violent action in any neutral territory
around Babylon 5, then they will have to pay for their actions. Good day." 
	He switched off the monitor, and walked up to the bridge. There was the
usual bustle of activity, and he sat down; browsing through the records of
ships that had used Babylon 5 that day. It was a long one: countless
shuttles, scores of small freighters, a squadron of Star Furies on exercise,
alien transports, three liners, six large cargo vessels, a mining ship, a
Centauri yacht, even an exploration vessel. Auspicious in their absence,
with the exception of the on-station fighter squadron, were military craft:
they were discouraged. But for how much longer, Sinclair mused: a war would
bring casualties and as one of the *truly* neutral places, all kinds of
damaged warships would dock for repairs. Medlab would be full of war
casualties. The logistics effort would be hard: just keeping the warring
factions separate in Medlab would present a challenge.
	Sinclair was only half-listening to the command and control talk when the
vessel came through the jump gate. Lt. Commander Ivonova started:
	"This is Babylon Control..." and then shouted, "Commander!"
	Sinclair looked at her, and then through the observation window. Coming out
of the jump gate was a crippled transport, flat and wedge-shaped, and with
heavy damage on the left side. Behind it were two interceptors; sleek and
with two engines mounted on short, curved 'wings'. Rapid bolts of blue laser
fire were coming from the interceptors' lascannons. Then, one beam hit the
transport, slicing of a further portion of the left side off, and causing
the craft to enter a slow spin. Sinclair was about to speak when yet another
ship came through the jumpgate.
	It was a cruiser, much larger than the interceptors, and with a more
'organic' look to it.
	"What are those doing here?" boomed Sinclair, "open a channel to all of the
vessels."
	"Done, Sir.
	"This is Babylon Control. You will cease firing or you will be fired upon.
State your purpose."
	The Interceptors halted firing, and Sinclair ordered a check on all the
vessels.
	"One Hyach Cruiser, two Vylor Interceptors and a Vylor transport, Sir."
	"We've got a channel to the cruiser," added another controller. A alien
flashed up.
	"This is the Hyach Cruiser Poi'yt. We were pursuing this rebel transport in
the aid of our allies, the Vylor. We are sorry are Interceptor pilots fired
in neutral space: they do not tolerate traitors to the Vylor Republic. We
wish to take the offending craft back to the Vylor Homeworld, where they
will be appropriately punished for treason in the court of our ally, the
Royal Arch-Duke Jhul XXII."
	"That may be so, but we have no proof that the Vylor transport is guilty of
*anything*. We have no comms channel to the vessel. Please wait and take no,
I repeat *no*, action against the transport or I will carry out my earlier
warning."
	"We've managed to get a channel to the transport, Sir, but only voice comms."
	"Okay," Sinclair replied, "put it on....This is Babylon Control. I must
inform you that allegations have been made against you and this may result
in you being taken into custody."
	"This is Arch-Marshall Qio' Tarel' Kar. We are indeed members of the New
Council. Please tell the vessels behind us that we have members of the
family of Citizen Jhul XXII on board, and will prove it as soon as we have
our communications system back online. If they do not recognise the New
Council as the ruling government of the Vylor, then our hostages will be
killed. I am relaying a list now."
	"Something's coming through, Sir."
	Sinclair craned over the monitor, and after a short pause, a group of
images appeared. He glanced down the names: Royal Arch-Duke-tal Jhul, Royal
Arch-Duke-pho Jhul, Royal Arch-Duchess-tal Jhul, Royal Duke Jhul XXI, Royal
Arch-Marshall Bwel' Jhul... The list was of about ten similarly bizarre
titles, but noticeably all the names had 'former' written in front of them.
The New Council had obviously decided to demote the entire House to Citizen
status.
	"Get me the Vylor ambassador. I want to know what these names mean and who
they are."
	
	It did not take long to summon the Vylor from ambassadorial quarters and he
was soon agitatedly walking over Sinclair's office.
	"This is an outrage," he said, "you say you promote peace and yet ten
hostages are threatened with death only a mile from the station."
	"Arch-Marshall," Sinclair said soothingly just tell me who these people are."
	"Okay. Royal Arch-Duke-tal Jhul: that is the Royal Arch-Duke's heir. Tal is
our word for 'first'."
	"And so Royal Arch-Duchess-tal Jhul is the eldest daughter, right?"
	"That is correct. And Royal Arch-Duke-pho Jhul is the second son."
	"Pho is second?"
	"Yes, yes. But Commander, surely you aren't going to let these,
these...terrorists get away with what they are doing?"
	"We are doing all we can."
	"I will await your progress *eagerly*. Now, I must contact my government.
Good day, Commander."
	Sinclair sighed as the ambassador left. These Vylor were just confusing
him. Government could get too complicated: these titles must have evolved
over centuries. Presumably they were second nature to the Vylor - initial
studies had shown their memory was better than human's - but to a newcomer
they were just overwhelming. He simplified the situation in his head: ten
important hostages of an alien government were being held by his station.
	Firstly, he organised for Garibaldi to assemble a ten man squad to raid the
craft. If the rebels could be somehow lured into a docking bay, an assault
could be the best option. Even so, he also arranged for a small boarding
craft to be prepared: an in-space attack would be difficult, but it was
there as a last option. He was turning over various strategies in his mind
when a his Babcom link buzzed. He activated it, and a military Earth Force
officer filled the screen.
	"We have heard about the hostage situation."
	"Yes..."
	"You will not act in any way. An Earth Force special forces team will be
transported to Babylon 5. Once they arrive, you will hand over all control
of the situation to the commanding officer of the team. Is that understood?"
	"But..."
	"IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"
	"Yes."
	"Good. The shuttle will reach B5 in two hours: we have already dispatched
it to a jump gate. Good-bye."
	The screen returned to the Babcom logo.

	Sinclair watched as the Earth-Force shuttle came through the jump gate. It
passed the still motionless tableau of the Hyach Cruiser, the Interceptors,
and the rebel transport, before sliding into a docking bay.
	 A lot had happened in the two hours that had passed since Sinclair's
conversation with Earth Dome. Outbreaks of violence had been springing up
throughout the station. Security was attempting to control the Vylors, but
aliens of the League were acting before their governments in starting
violent conflicts, and Sector 23 was turning into a warzone. Formally the
favoured area of the Vylor population, it was now off-limits to anybody and
guarded constantly, but that didn't stop the Vylors inside from rampaging
through looking for enemy gangs. 
	News from the Vylor homeworld was scarce, but a message was relayed
assuring that the rebels had been defeated and the capture of the hostages
had been a last-ditch effort. Of course, coming from House Jhul its
truthfulness was debatable. 
	Sinclair knew he would have to face the wrath of the League after this: he
had been ignoring requests from the governments for a council to be held,
and the appearance of an obviously military Earth Force shuttle would
infuriate them even more. Personally, Sinclair had no wish for Earth
Alliance interference, but he knew he couldn't refuse to hand over control.

	Sinclair was soon back on the bridge, having taken the short journey to
docking bay 5. A squad of eight of Earth Force's elite disembarked, and
Sinclair was introduced to Lieutenant O'Neill. He had taken an instant
dislike to the man; instinct telling him that this soldier had an air of 'I
know best, and that's it' about him.
	"I wish to send my commandos in now: I have two assault boarders on the
shuttle," was the first thing O'Neill said to Sinclair on the bridge.
	"Lieutenant, I hardly think that's wise..."
	"Look, *Commmander*, I am in command of the rescue operation, I don't need
you telling me how to run my unit." Sinclair decided he had been right about
O'Neill.
	"Assault boarder's are notorious for their airtight seals to fail: when the
probe smashes through the hull, it would be disastrous for such a small
craft. It's alright on a large cruiser or something, but it could destroy a
shuttle. Remember: you want to get those hostages out alive."
	"Commander!.."
	They were interrupted by the watch officer:
	"Commander: the doors on bay 4 have been opened."
	"Bay 4? That's Kosh's ship. What's he doing?" Even as Sinclair spoke the
organic Vorlon ship silently glided past the observation window. "He's going
towards the shuttle.." he murmured.
	The Vorlon craft approached the stricken craft, and the pilot of the
shuttle appeared on the monitor in Babylon Control.
	"Tell that ship to stop or I'll shoot the hostages..."
	Suddenly the Vorlon craft surged forward and seemed to *engulf* the smaller
ship. The comms link went dead, and from beneath the marbled green surface
of Kosh's vessel vague shifts could be seen. The crew on the bridge watched
in awe as seconds later the shuttle melted away from the tapered rear of the
Vorlon craft. As Kosh headed for the jump gate, the shuttle exploded in a
bright inferno. 

	A day later, after the hostages had been dropped on the Vylor homeworld,
Arch-Marshall Quio' Tarel' Kar stood on his knees. 
	"Great Maker," he cried.
	The Vorlon moved towards the praying figure and said:
	"You thought you were chosen. Now, you will learn the error of your ways..."
 
        End

NB: In case you hadn't guessed, the Vylor was taken to the Vorlon homeworld
to become an Inquisitor.

        Chris Stokes. cstokes@aladdin.co.uk