"What we did not realize, at the time, was that noble members of a more then honorable Minbari warrior caste clan were engaged in something that would eventually affect us personally...to start with, a war of words, not weapons, and of spirit as well. But the outcome of that first confrontation would inevitably lead to what followed, months farther down the line..."
* * *
Interstellar Alliance Starship SHARD OF NIGHT. Bridge, middle of night watch. Thirty hours to opening of launch 'window'.
"Still up, are you?" Sheynell inquired, as she emerged onto the bridge in her favorite off-duty clothing, a simple charcoal-and-grey jumpsuit with the Ranger insignia emblazoned in the usual position.
Klairika nodded, a trifle glumly from the telepath's point of view, as she paced around the perimeter of the holographic imager. "Even though things are beginning to calm down, even though our Val'na herself seems to show no fear at what lies ahead, and sleeps even now...I have not been able to do the same. It almost seems that the nearer we get to launch, the more concerns and problems to solve I am discovering!"
"It's a big job, isn't it, first officer on a command this large..." Sheynell replied, all too innocently. "Makes one wonder how execs on the larger Alliance destroyers don't blow a blood vessel, or two...after all, those ships have as much as *three* times more crew then the SHARD, don't they?"
Klairika soon got the point, and began to laugh softly. "You are trying to imply, if gently, that I should cease what, for now, is meaningless worrying, and roll some of the tasks down onto you, the others, and certain members of our crew...if I am not mistaken?"
Sheynell nodded. "Admittedly, we've got one heck of a job ahead of us, Klairika...but after everything we've been through already, seperately and in groups, over the last few years, for now I think we should take everything in stride..."
"And when it comes down to actually *being* in trouble, then that’s the time to worry?"
"Could be the...." Rather abruptly, Sheynell's attention trailed off, and her head whipped around, eyes suddenly bright and centered, as a bright signal chime sounded in the bridge, and the plot of Minbar-nearspace orbital activity in the holoprojection rather abruptly changed...as several of the sensor drones observed a jump point open and close less then a hundred kilometers above the planet's surface.
"Report." Klairika declared, pointedly catching the attention of the Ranger presently on duty at the Sensors board.
"Na'lai...something interesting and unusual seems to have happened; a White Star's just dropped into the system *very* close to Minbar, and is heading down into the atmosphere even as we speak."
"The commander of that White Star..." Sheynell murmured, her gaze still intent on the tiny blip of the descending warship, "Does *not* want to be here, but has no choice in the matter. She's been summoned back home...as for why, I can' tell...that's hidden beneath the surface."
Klairika blinked. If Sheynell was trying to remind her of her powerful psi abilities, that was *certainly* the best way to go about it. "Are we able to determine which White Star that is?"
The Ranger nodded. "Yes, Na'lai, with *this* system, that's all too easy. White Star 6."
Another surprise; she *knew* the commander of that ship, a Minbari who had been a member of the Anla'shok for years, now...had moved through the heart of the Shadow War, and all that followed...and now stood second in command of the White Star Fleet, behind Sha'vei Tashann.
Lanniel.
* * *
The polar glaciers were behind them, now, as the White Star 6 flew southwards through the night, towards the home she swore she had left behind forever, when the War against the darkness had only newly been born. For the moment, cloud covered the world below them from horizon to horizon...but only for the moment, as great rents in the deck soon began to appear, and familiar daggers of rock and snow pierced that grey blanket...
Chayankeer, had, of course, never left her soul; it would take *much* more then what had happened, to rip *that* away from her. And sometimes, she liked to think that she had taken some of the icy fire that lived on the top of those peaks with her, into war...the coolness she had maintained, in the face of all comers, and all situations, an echo of the great Plateau and its mountain ranges, among the tallest on Minbar.
"Val'na." Lanniel blinked, and came back to the here and now, to meet the openly concerned gaze of her First, Alidarra...a loyal member of her crew since the end of the Shadow War. "We are now approaching the southern edge of the Great Ranges; are you still intent on bringing our command to the surface at Refuge Bazalshieon, as we previously discussed?"
She smiled mirthlessly, and nodded. "While I have been summoned here on Clan business, Alidarra, and have responded to the call of *A'viensha ne'vrei* as I must, I am still Anla'shok, and my people, my family, and finally, my *father*, must not be allowed to forget that this is so. So yes, we will be landing on the battlements pad in my ancient home..."
"It is well that you have confirmed this..." the other Minbari replied, her expression now guardedly amused, before turning to the view projected on the bridge holo-curtain. "Observe."
Just so...Lanniel nodded unsurprisingly, as the White Star 6 cleared the southernmost range of Mountains on the edge of the Plateau, revealing the lowlands of Der'liamand beyond...and in the near distance, within the valley of the Varht, the greatest or the rivers draining the glaciers behind them, on a cliff above the thundering waters below, a great citadel of stone and lights could be seen, its crystal towers shining dimly beneath the moons. Bazalshieon; chief Refuge of her Clan, and home to most of its elders.
Including her father, Takier...the Warmaster of the Storm Dancers since the death of the previous owner of that title during the war with the humans, now more then twenty cycles in the past. "Do you have the battlement landing zone in sight, Alidarra?"
"I do. Do you think, Val'na, that they are watching?"
"I would be surprised, my friend, if the *entire* clan has not turned out to observe our arrival." Lanniel straightened in her chair of command. "Prepare to reconfigure for landing procedures."
A moment passed, and then Alidarra nodded to indicate that all had been made ready for their descent...it was time, she now understood, to walk amidst the shadows of her past...and, if all went well, banish some, if not ALL of them. "Then take us down." she added, almost fatalistically.
* * *
At the peak of the Tower of Morning-Rise, more then three hundred pike-lengths above the rushing waters below, D'hal Takier observed, with narrowed eyes, the crystal-shaking arrival of his eldest daughter's command. His lips tightened, and twisted sardonically, as he watched; that vessel of space was not, of course, the one he had intended for her to direct, when they had both been younger, and Shadows had not walked openly, behind the veils of deception that were. But his daughter had been touched by something that, even now, he treated with disdain, even after all it had done for his race...the force named Anla'shok, a force that had, at the time Lanniel had left his side, been commanded by the human Jeffrey Sinclair.
Unbidden, the mists of memory cleared, and he remembered...recalled a time in which the rest of his Caste had turned their backs on Sinclair, inspired by the exortations of Alit Neroon of the Star Riders...all but a handful who had *believed*, including his daughter, that what Sinclair spoke of was the truth...that the Shadows had returned, that War would come again, and that the Anla'shok would be central and key to defeating the Shadows and their dark intent.
In the end, of course, it had all been true. And even after Sinclair had moved on to enact his own, mysterious destiny, and Delenn had followed him to become Entil'zha, Lanniel had stayed, and climbed in stature. First to command the vessel he saw below him, on Bazalshieon's battlements, and then to second in command of the White Star Fleet, itself.
A noble accomplishment, to be sure...but at the same time, everything that Lanniel stood for was *also* tainted by that which Sinclair had begun, by bringing the HUMANS into the Anla'shok. This, of course, had eventually culminated in the rise to ascension of the too-bold human that some among his Clan, in whispers most furtive when they did not believe he would be able to hear them, named *Rimstalker*...the human, William Westcastle, and she who followed him...
And, inevitably, *she* who followed HER. And that, when it came down to it, was the root of the problem his clan now faced, in this decisive, turning moment of summonings. That Sheridan, speaking in the name of Delenn's Alliance and for the weakness within the all-too-tainted Anla'shok, had transferred command of the Caste's newest instrument of purpose from Di'shiana Rahkeel, his greatest Warleader, to one named Julia Tikopai...a youthful, inexperienced human instructed by Westcastle and his life partner, and raised, inexplicably, to command rank by Sheridan himself...
BEFORE her twentieth naming day, if what he had heard from Rahkeel already was, indeed, the truth!
Takier gritted his teeth, and nodded, his anger about the matter only barely held in check. This, above all else, demonstrated that what Sinclair had created, and Sheridan, Delenn and their followers had perpetuated, was nothing more then a human trick designed to weaken his Caste and his people, and, he believed, to keep them in line, especially since the disastrous end of the Civil War with the Religious Caste. And with *Vi'dalae An'shaka*, their greatest creation, turned over to the humans in such a fashion, what other evidence was required, that something *needed* to be done?
"She has come, has she?" his guest inquired, and Takier turned away from the parapet, and nodded.
"Yes; this was *not* a call that she could ignore with all justification, as you well understand. It is my belief that had we *not* done as we did, Lanniel would, even now, be out on the Rim, searching for the cure to that which the Drakh have imposed upon the Humans..."
A mirthless smile. "And you believe this search to be a fruitless one, do you, Takier? Or, do you think, instead, that the Humans have brought this upon themselves by standing so much at the forefront of things in recent years, that this is the price that must be paid, for the defeat of the Darkness?"
Takier paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "You know and *understand* my thoughts on the matter of Sheridan and Delenn's Alliance, and its influence on Ranger matters in recent years...but no, I do not believe that the wholesale extermination of his homeworld's people should be allowed to come to pass. Too many innocent lives are at stake for that to be an option."
"So...while you rail against Sheridan and the Alliance and the Humans among the Rangers, you believe that the Humans, themselves, should be saved. Are these two matters not connected at the root?"
"You should know better then to ask that!" he roared.
"Of course. But as we were saying..."
* * *
Below...
"It is...an imposing place." Alidarra confided to her commander, as she and Lanniel strode along the battlements of Bazalshieon. "I had heard rumours that places such as this existed, but to actually *stand* in one..."
"Originally..." Lanniel critically noted, "You were Religious Caste, Alidarra, and as such, would have, in the past, been considered the Enemy by some among my Clan, my father included. But now that we are at peace, with the Grey Council reestablished, the protection of the Anla'shok and our Entil'zha stands over us both, and we are free to do things we would not have, even a short time ago."
"Of course. I must ask, however, the following..." Alidarra declared, nodding towards the four great crystalline towers of the Refuge, surrounded by lesser spires. "Why *four*, and not three?"
""Easily answered, though perhaps not so easily understood, on your part." Lanniel took a deep breath, and then began to recite, from memory, something she had never, for a moment, forgotten. "The Way is as four-fold; of Morning, the coming of light and life, of Noon, when the struggle is least, of Evening, and the passing of the summer days, and of Shadow....of death, and endings, of the ice beyond our view, and the coldness, at road's end..."
A chuckle sounded in the darkness from around the corner on the battlements, and both Rangers stiffened for a moment, until a familiar figure, to Lanniel, at least, stepped into view; his face more lined then when she had last seen him, cycles before...but seemingly wiser, as a result. "It is well, even now, child, that you have not forgotten the Way; not forgotten what it was that I helped to teach you."
"Never..." she replied, a smile now coming to her face. "Please, allow me to introduce you to my First, Anla'shok Alidarra!...and Alidarra, I have the extreme honour of introducing you to my former mentor and friend, D'hal Miyonn, instructor of the Way of the Windflower, and...?" The last, ended on a questioning note, to which Miyonn nodded.
"Yes...as I'm sure you're well aware, Lanniel, time *has* moved on as it usually does, and with the passing of D'hal Maeriaa beyond the Veil five cycles ago, I am now the Eldermost among the Storm Dancers."
Lanniel sighed; this was not surprising news, but disappointing, yet the same...again, she felt the passing of years. "A difficult position to endure." she commented, as the three approached the skybridge that lead from the battlements into the Refuge proper. "And I'm sure that my father hasn't made your tasks any easier, either..."
Miyonn's face grew grim, and the older Minbari nodded. "Your father has, despite the protestations of your mother, Deilann, grown ever more set in his ways since you left us to join the Anla'shok. And now that this matter regarding the battlecruiser 'Vi'dalae An'shaka', has arisen... Di'shiania Rahkeel's insistence that something needed to be done about the humans among the Rangers has given your father all the impetus he requires. The Council meeting tomorrow will not be a pleasant one, Lanniel, for any of us...but since you are Anla'shok, and share the duties and position of the human named Julia Tikopai, it will be *least* pleasant for you."
"This I understood, Miyonn, the moment the message of Summons reached me, and even as I turned my White Star back towards Minbar, I was preparing myself mentally for what laid ahead. But the matter *must* be dealt with, at the source; I cannot *believe* that Rahkeel would go to such lengths as this!...what difference does it make *who* commands this prototype vessel, and what race crews it, as long as it is being used where it is *most* needed...in helping to solve this crisis that the Humans now face?"
"Ah, yes, I thought that is what you would think, despite Rahkeel's hopes to the contrary. However, there are some things about this human that both Rahkeel and your father think to be an impeteous upstart that may surprise you. The choice, as made, was not random, in the slightest..."
"Master!" a faint cry came, then, as the trio passed through the great entrance of the Refuge. "Master?"
Miyonn sighed, and raised his voice. "Selvahn...I am quite *clearly* over here, in plain view; kindly cease your pointless dashing around, and come to pay your respects to your eldest sister."
The face of an astonished Minbari only just passing out of the upper end of adolescence stuck around a nearby corner, soon followed by the rest of his body. "Lanniel? Surely not...and yet, it is so! Lanniel, you have returned to us!"
Lanniel stiffened; once again, she was reminded of how much time had passed. When she had left Bazalshieon in the middle of the night to go to Tuzanor, Selvahn had only been a child. And now...now, what HAD he become? "Master!?" she inquired, throwing a pointed gaze at Miyonn.
"He will explain, himself." was the Elder's reply.
"This *is* a night of surprises!" Lanniel's younger brother proclaimed, the astonished smile still on his face. "Though I imagine the crisis that Di'shiana Rahkeel has imposed upon us has much to do with your return, even though I am too young to know or understand the details, or so the Master tells me..."
"Why 'Master'?" she gently inquired. "Selvahn, when last I saw you, you were completely intent on becoming a Warrior!"
"Times have changed." Selvahn replied, a touch ruefully. "And while Father would like to have closed me away from the Universe to make of me what he would, like Tirivail, the Master decided otherwise. And gradually, over time, he was able to teach me some of the Way, and helped to guide me away from what some think of as the more destructive side of our Caste...the side always eager for War.
But you thought this too, didn't you, Lanniel? Isn't that why you left, to become a Ranger? To fight at the side of your Entil'zha, against the Shadows?"
"The answer to that..." she replied, after a moment, "Is a *little* more complicated then that, I am afraid, Selvahn."
"But most answers *are*, aren't they?" a smooth, bitter and *all* too familiar voice intruded, and Lanniel gritted her teeth for a moment; the family reunion would not be complete without her *other* sibling including herself in this, now would it? "Tirivail; how pleasant it is, to hear your voice again."
The middle of Takier's three children, dressed, of course, in perfect, studded, Warrior blacks, scowled at that comment. "I did not believe that you would come, Lanniel; I thought, perhaps, that you would even consider the call of your *Anla'shok* to be above that of Clan and Caste...you have surprised me, to say the least.
However, you have also disappointed me, in bringing *her* with you." Almost without visible movement, Tirivail's warrior pike sprang into her hand, and extended. "I am well aware of her Caste origin, sister mine, and I wil not allow her to enter any further into our ancient home, a place for Warriors, not such as...her kind."
Beside her, Alidarra stiffened angrily, and Lanniel realized that she would have to deal with this matter herself, or risk having her First enter into combat with Tirivail, a match that Alidarra, would, of a certainty, lose, since her skills were certainly lesser then Tirivail's. This, because like herself, her sister had been trained by a master almost equal to Durhan in the wielding of the denn'bok...
Her father. There was only *one* way to answer this challenge, only *one* member of the entourage who could meet Tirivail on equal terms. She stepped forward, and with a movement even smoother then her sister's, extended her own pike, and moved to guard. "I challenge your claim, Tirivail; we are Anla'shok, and as she is my First, I will protect her, as she would protect me, in turn. I will *not* allow you to do harm to her, *regardless* of which Caste and Family she belongs to!"
"That it should come to this..." Tirivail coldly noted, as the two began to circle, "Where sister is drawn to fight sister. This only emphasizes, in my mind, that what we have both been drawn here to discuss with our Clan must be acted upon. The Anla'shok weakens us!...both in Caste, Clan, and most importantly, with the advent of the humans among you. It must be answered for!...it WILL be answered for, here and now!"
"Stop this immediately!" Miyonn thundered...he still *could* thunder, when the need arose. "I will not have you do harm to one another, in this place!"
Tirivail laughed coldly. "You cannot stop this, D'hal, anymore then she could avoid this encounter, and I am done talking, in any case. Defend her, then, if you can, Lanniel...for no one else will."
And as they prepared to close with one another, Lanniel suddenly realized that there was probably only one person in the entire Refuge who *could* stop this from happening...
And she knew, in her heart, that he would not act. And an instant later, the expected clash of pike on pike occurred, and it began.
But how would it end?
* * *
To be continued...
STAR AND CIRCLE: "AS DARKNESS FALLS"
PART IX, ACT II OF II.
Refuge Bazalshieon, Chayankeer Province, Minbar. Just before local midnight...
This was not the first time she had proven this, and she had no doubt that it would not be the last. Move followed move, and parry, parry, as Lanniel battled her sister across the octagonal, crystal paved courtyard at Bazalshieon's heart. She could feel a multitude of eyes on her, observers watching the sibling war from the balconies that lined the hollow, multi-storied interior of the Refuge, but she had no time or inclination to look, at the moment, for that would give Tirivail all the opportunity she would need, and by Valen, she would not give her sister that chance; a chance to prove her choice in bringing Alidarra here as wrong, to the rest of the Clan.
For a while, then, it continued; Tirivail was good with the pike, this she would admit...better then when last they had met in a match such as this one. But while her sister had been instructed to the best of her father's abilities, Lanniel's own skills had been refined by Sech F'hursna Durhan, himself...and the inevitable eventually occurred, as her sister left herself open for what appeared, to the others, to be an infintesimally short moment; a moment more then long enough for her purposes, however.
With a sudden cry, Tirivail fell to the floor, her pike clattering away across the crystal tiles, and gazed up into her sister's cold, disappointed gaze, and the butt end of her warrior pike. "I met your challenge, Tirivail." Lanniel noted dispassionately. "And while I will admit that your skills have improved since the last time we met in combat, according to Valen's own strictures, in place for more then a thousand years, you will *now* accept my judgement on this matter! Alidarra will walk at my side in this place unharmed, until we are done with the Council. Do you *understand* me, sister?"
Tirivail began to nod, bitterly...but a familiar laugh sounded, then, and Lanniel turned, the pain of what she had just done beginning to resound in her heart, to meet her father's sardonic, amused gaze. "So...I've often wondered which of you was still the stronger in the wielding of the weapons that *I* gave you, myself. Interesting that your time amidst the Anla'shok has not blunted that skill...interesting, indeed."
"It was *chance*, father, that is all!" Tirivail bitterly interjected, casting a scathing glance in Lanniel's direction. "Will you not give me another opportunity to prove myself the stronger?"
"No..." Takier bluntly informed his daughter, shaking his head. "Even now, after all the insult that her kind have given us, she is still my daughter and your eldest sister, Tirivail...we must recognize this. Additionally, since she has triumphed over you in combat, her decision stands...although I would *suggest* quite strongly, Lanniel, that you keep up your guard, if your Religious Caste assistant intends to stay at your side, in this place. I cannot answer for what may happen if you do not..."
"You will *hold* your tongue, Takier!" Miyonn harshly informed his Warmaster, as Lanniel held her own anger strongly in check. "As long as Anla'shok Alidarra is present in Refuge Bazalshieon, she stands under my protection, and that of my aides amongst the Clan. I will not have you do her harm!...it is forbidden, in any case, now that the Grey Council guides us, once again."
"It shall be as you say, *D'hal* Miyonn!" Takier replied, twisting the honorific into something barbed, as Tirivail fell in at her father's side, still casting a bitter gaze at Lanniel. "I will not, for now, contest this matter...we have, shall I say, larger issues to discuss, in any case, in the morning."
"But *I* shall remember this insult, sister!" Tirivail hissed. "Be assured of that!" And with that said, both Minbari turned on their heels, and departed through the Shadows exit of the courtyard.
"It is as I said, is it not?" Selvahn noted sadly, as Lanniel, Miyonn and their companions also departed the arena of battle. "Tirivail has become something, in Father's hands, that is indicative of all our worst attributes... and now, after what has just happened, I believe that Tirivail will come to hate you, in time...if this has not already come to pass."
"You may be right, brother..." Lanniel replied, as the party arrived at the base of the Noontide Tower, "But for now, I find that the moment is passing me by...it has been a *long* flight back in from the Rim, and fatigue is beginning to overcome me..."
Miyonn laughed, and nodded. "Understandable, after all that has happened tonight. Come, Lanniel!...we will go to visit your mother Deilann, and after what I will assume is now a much needed meal, we shall find our beds, and, Valen willing, some small semblance of rest. For when the sun stands at mid-rise tomorrow, the Council of *A'viensha ne'vrei* will begin; even I cannot prevent that occurence.
And I must ask...will you be ready, to face your father and Rahkeel, when the time comes? In that encounter, I cannot help you, cannot teach you more then I have already."
"I have faced death countless times over, my dear friend..." Lanniel replied, forcing a small smile onto her face. "During my time among the stars in the White Star Fleet, I have faced Shadows, darkness, deception and conflict beyond measure. In comparision, is not this Council is only one more battle to be fought? A more personal one, I will admit, but this...*claim* of Rahkeel's cannot be allowed to go any farther.
It must be dealt with...here, and NOW."
* * *
The SHARD OF NIGHT; captain's quarters. One day to mission commencement.
Now, only one candle burned, as Julia prepared to write in her book of Observance. She did not know what that symbolism was meant to refer to, only that it felt right. A single ray of hope, burning against the darkness, perhaps? The EXCALIBUR, and her crew, as Earth's last hope? Or maybe, instead, her crew and her ship of wonders, protecting Captain Gideon and his crew from the unknown?
She did not know...and for a moment, as she raised her gaze to the enormous mirror on the far wall (a gift from Jennifer) and into the reflection of her inner self, she knew that question could not, for now, be answered, as a pale-faced young woman, narrow of face, with features so fine, looked back at her out of that other dimension. So *serious* she was, too serious, sometimes, for her own good. From time to time, there were those who had helped to teach her that...and the trials ahead would knock that farther home, in due course. Of that, had no doubt, whatsoever.
Another shiver, as she and Mirror-Julia looked at one another. So young, she was, to attempt this...too young? But was there, any longer, a choice in the matter? Galen had spoken of this moment, she was sure, predicted what was to come...now, she walked with prophecy, with order, and for Light.
She sighed; so many words, so much meaning...too many for anyone's good. When, in the end, it came down to only one thing. Drawing that line that the enemies of her kind could not be allowed to cross...
And so, she wrote. "Between one passage of light, and the next, there is Shadow, as there has always been shadow. A shadow of deception, a shadow of what was, a shadow of hates both present and yet to come. And against that Shadow, Light has sent forth its champions, yet again; not the same as before, but the same, in ways we cannot see, or understand...a fellowship set upon a road long and deceptive.
But Darkness does not accept that this can be allowed, and strives to unmake that which has been created. And because this is so, another company walks in their footsteps, and ahead of the whispers that mark their passing through the worlds of Night. Countless beings are counting on these companies of Light, and they cannot fail, or a world will die.
And in one day more, we walk in their name, and in Valen's. We move to protect that which must be protected, so all may live. We stand between the darkness and the light, and move in shadows...and pray we will not fall off the knife edge that stands between."
She paused for a moment, sighed, and then nodded. Once again, that side of her had fallen silent...that was all there was, for the time being. Julia set her fine-quilled pen down, rose from the table, and made as to put on her still-almost brand new uniform. There was much do do, this day, much, indeed...
While behind her, and out of her sight, the end of the last stroke written glittered briefly, before the ink dried onto the page...
* * *
Refuge Bazalshieon. Mid-morning...near the Council chambers.
It was a fine day outside, the finest she could ever remember seeing in this place. So many times, in her youth, Bazalshieon had been blasted by snow, coated in ice, and rocked by the howling winds of the storms that had given her Clan its name...but not now. For the moment, the sun burned down from a totally clear sky upon the snow and ice of the Great Ranges...and cast shards of spectral light through the mighty windows of the Council chamber, as Lanniel walked towards its great triangular entrance, Miyonn, Alidarra and Selvahn at her side.
Upon reaching that entrance, Lanniel stopped, and drew her First aside. "Alidarra!" she whispered, her tone full of caution, "While I admire your resolve to follow me in all things and to places, I regret to tell you that *this* is one place you cannot follow. The interior of that chamber is only open to members of my clan...and no one else."
"But Val'na!..."
"I'm sorry, my friend, but there can be no arguments, this time. This stricture predates even the Refuge itself; back to the time when the Castes warred upon each other, before the coming of Valen...it is ancient, and hallowed, and cannot be argued with."
"But what of your father's warning?" Alidarra shot back. "That harm might come to me, if you did not stand at my side?"
"I thought that it might come to this..." Miyonn mused, as the two Rangers turned, their expressions attentive, to face the Storm Dancer Elder. "And since I promised your First that she would be safe in this place, during the term of the Council, I must, persay, uphold this promise, even when you and I are not near to her." Miyonn cleared his throat pointedly. "Selvahn?"
"Master?"
"My student, I pass down to you an all important task; while we are cloistered inside, you will protect Anla'shok Alidarra with all the means at your disposal, should such protection become necessary. We will hope, however, that this will *not* be the case, this day."
"I understand." Lanniel's younger brother replied. "She serves you, Lanniel, and you have survived much, together. For this reason, and others, I will do as the Master says...so that you can do what you *must*, this day."
"*Thank* you, Selvahn..." she whispered, smiling a wider smile then she had in, what, years, it felt like..."I will remember this."
"Of course. And when it comes time for me to step forward and serve the One, as you have, perhaps you will, shall we say, pass on your recommendations?"
"You have my word on this."
"You're quite done, then, are you?" Miyonn inquired, gathering himself to stride into the chamber. "Ah...good. Lanniel...attend to the Duty that awaits us, then, if you would..."
Lanniel took a deep breath, and fell in at her former Master's right hand, and without pause, they passed through the portal, and into the Council chamber, beyond.
Their faces showing either solemnness, worry, or, in the case of a few, irritation at the delay, the eleven other members of the Storm Dancer Council sat at their ancient table of deliberation, constructed more then eleven hundred cycles before. A unique number for a Minbari Council, to be sure...but her clan was unique in so many ways, this was merely another. Sharing the Way with the other beliefs of her race sometimes created certain unusual distinctions...
For instance...the Council was one of few on Minbar that could easily be deadlocked. Taking the seat that had been provided for her, Lanniel looked around, and took in the relative emptiness of the chamber, unusual, to say the least, but these were unusual times. The only members of the clan in attendance, for now, were those directly connected to the matter of Rahkeel's former command. As for the rest of the Clan, they only knew that the first of a new class of warship had been constructed...and that their greatest Warleader had been relieved of that command in recent days, perhaps unjustifiably. And that at least *one* of their elders was ready to issue a challenge against the President and the Anla'shok, and that another of their own, a senior Ranger, had come to stand in her order's defence.
Lanniel's mouth tightened, as across the chamber, now that all were present, Rahkeel rose to his feet, all too ready, it seemed, to say what he wanted to. And as for defending her order and their ways, that she *would* do, for she could do no other thing. Although when this was finished, there would have to be a reckoning, of sorts; while she understood *some* of what had brought this human, Julia Tikopai, to her present rank and position, there were many things about that Ranger's background that Lanniel now wished to inquire into further, should the opportunity arise...
But that time was later, and not now...as the great portal boomed shut behind her...and Rahkeel rose to his feet, and began to speak.
"I address you all as I am; as Di'shiana of our clan, seniormost Warleader in the field, acting in the name of our Warmaster, he who follows in the path countless others have tread since our Clan came to be. And I address you, also, this day, as one *dishonoured* by the actions of others, those not of our kind!...but linked to us, we have heard, in many ways.
I refer, of course, to the humans...and primarily among them, the human elevated by chance to his present position, the President of the Interstellar Alliance, one John Sheridan! Initially, after I first met him, I thought Sheridan to be a fair man, but now, I know otherwise. It is the way of his kind, the way of this Alliance that he and others have built, to create what the humans refer to as 'a level playing field.' But this weakens our kind!...weakens all that we are, and all we can be.
This began, of course, with Sinclair. Against the wishes of our Caste elders and the Shai Alit himself, Sinclair was allowed to bring humans into the Anla'shok...and those aligned with him taught these humans our ways, our languages, and our way of thinking. Things we thought to keep secret were brought out into the open...for is it not the way of the Anla'shok to observe, record, and return secret matters to their leaders, so that those leaders can decide what must be done about such matters?"
"I contest that claim!" she declared, rising to her feet, but keeping a firm grasp, for now, on the anger she felt at Rahkeel's words. "The Anla'shok do not *spy* on their own, and your insinuation that we have been collecting secrets to pass on to the humans is insulting, to say the very least!"
"Ah yes, Val'na..." Rahkeel ground out, "But that is what I was expecting you to say!...but no matter. Regardless of how the discovery was made, what was initially conceived of as purely a Warrior Caste project was somehow discovered by Entil'zha Delenn...and as we all *know*, her connection to President Sheridan is a well known one. What she knows, he knows...and once he found out that 'Vi'dalae An'shaka' existed, it must be assumed that he could not *resist* the temptation to place it in the hands of those he knew he could control...
Human Anla'shok!...and more specifically, a human Val'na trained in part by that human that some name Rimstalker...the High Councillor, William Westcastle! Tell us, Val'na Lanniel!...is it not true that Westcastle has served at Sheridan's right hand for many years, now?"
"This is so, yes."
"Then I rest my case! It is *clear* that this impetous young human, Julia Tikopai, is a creature of Westcastle, and, by intuitive connection, Sheridan himself! Whatever he wishes, she will do, and our ship, the ship that *our* Caste arranged to have constructed, that our Shai Alit arranged to have me commmand for the Alliance, *and* for our Caste, is now serving the humans and their interests...and not ours!
This cannot be borne! And as such, honoured Elders, I ask you now, this day, to take action, to gather the rest of our Caste around our banner, and take back for our kind my former command, a mighty craft built *by* Minbari, *for* Minbari!"
"Are you *quite* done, Di'shiana?" Miyonn pointedly inquired. "Because if you are, I'm quite certain that there are others in this chamber who *also* have an opinion on this matter."
A look of puzzled frustration appeared on Rahkeel's face. "I do not understand the *need* for such examinations, D'hal!...why should we waste time on something that will hinder our cause?"
Miyonn began to laugh, and some of the worried expressions among the other Councilmembers began to relax...while the scowls in the *other* faction intensified, in turn. "Our cause? How, exactly, do you presuppose this matter is the cause of the Storm Dancers, in sum? It has never been our way to involve ourselves at the heart of things like the Wind Swords Clan, and others, and I have not been convinced, despite your exortations, Rahkeel, that we should change the traditions of a thousand years on a moment's notice!"
"Then you would do nothing about this?" came a familiar snarl from the other end of the table, and Lanniel sighed; well, of *course* her father would now have something to say. "Sheridan and his cabal weaken us, take away our thunder...and you would do nothing?"
"D'hal Takier..." Miyonn patiently replied, "What *needs* to be done? In the end, the purpose of any command of space is to be utilized where it is most needed. During the time in which Di'shiana Alit Rahkeel commanded his ship, it was needed to perform intelligence gathering missions on the fringes of the Alliance.
Now, howver, the situation has changed; the race which stood closest to us during the Shadow War, the race we almost destroyed, by mistake, now *needs* our help. The Human ship EXCALIBUR must be allowed to complete its mission...and for that to occur, the Anla'shok of 'Vi'dalae An'shaka' have a duty that overrides all others...to protect the humans and their vessel..to protect the EXCALIBUR!"
"Using our ship!"
"It was never *our* ship, Rahkeel." Miyonn informed the younger Minbari. "We only had the use of it, for a time. Now, it moves on to a greater destiny then any of us can see, or understand. And you would act to prevent the passage of so noble a destiny as this, simply because you, Rahkeel, find the notion of another commanding *your* ship too bitter to swallow?"
Rahkeel said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes.
"And as for YOU, D'hal Takier!" Miyonn continued, "I am disappointed that you would use this opportunity to further your own ambitions in such a fashion. Disappointed, indeed!"
Amidst the murmurings of agreement, Takier decided to make one last, desperate move. "But what of this human that Sheridan has chosen to command 'Vi'dalae An'shaka'?...this Julia Tikopai? Can we not find some way to prove that she is too immature to take on a role such as this?"
"Lanniel!" Rahkeel implored. "Above and beyond all other calls, you are a Storm Dancer, you are one of us! If there is anything you can do to aid our cause, *now* is the time."
For a moment, she paused, considering...but then, the moment passed. And while she knew that this break would, in all probabilities, be a final one, there seemed to be no other choice to make that would be better, in this case...for herself, and for the crew now coming together beneath her youthful and, she knew from reputation, brilliant equal, Tikopai.
"D'hal Takier...Di'shiana Rahkeel, I regret to inform you that I cannot, for now, agree to such demands. I am Anla'shok Val'na, second in command of the White Star Fleet, and as such, I serve not only our people and our clan, but the races of the Alliance, as well. And I say, the ship the humans call SHARD OF NIGHT must be used where it MOST needed. Who commands it is, for now, unimportant...the only thing that matters is that the task is completed...that the people of Earth are saved.
And to conclude, before my departure, to return to the search for that selfsame cure the humans now search for!...I will echo D'hal Miyonn in saying that I’m very disappointed in you both. I answered the call of *A'viensha ne'vrei* because every time it has been called in the past, it has been for an IMPORTANT reason. This was not one such...I found this calling, instead, to be petty, insulting...and, in conclusion, a waste of my time."
She rose, then, and bowed coldly towards the two, shocked into momentary silence by her words...but she knew that would not last, she could see the anger gathering behind her father's eyes, already. "I will take my leave of you, now; I have wasted nearly enough time here already, as it is...there is *much* to be done, out on the Rim, on the path the EXCALIBUR now follows."
Miyonn turned towards his furious Warmaster, then, as Takier's eldest daughter left the Council chamber, her piece more then said. "I believe, at this point, D'hal, a vote is usually called. Shall we, as the humans have been known to say, 'cut to the chase', and get this over with, so I can return to my mountains, and my Way?"
* * *
A short time later...
The goodbyes had been said, to those that mattered...Miyonn. Her mother. Selvahn. The others, she suspected, were lost to her now, her father, she knew, for all time. But, Lanniel realized, as she strode back along the battlements towards the White Star Six, that was something that had begun the moment she left Bazalshieon, all those cycles before, to begin the war against the Shadows.
This was merely the concluding move in the game.
The steps up to the landing pad were long, but the end eventually came, and she turned, one last time, to look upon the place that had made of her what she was...and then, she turned away, and made her way towards her command.
She did not think that she would come this way again.
* * *
Below...
With a barely restrained glare of malice, Tirivail watched as her fallen sister's starship command rose almost silently from its landing site, turned in mid-air, and quickly receded beyond the mountains of Chayankeer, and out of sight. Lanniel had, she decided, insulted her honour for the last time...in due course, she knew, an opportunity would arise, and Lanniel and her would meet in battle, again.
And that match was one that Tirivail fully intended to win.
Permanantly.
* * *
D'hal Takier's place of power. Six hours after Lanniel's departure...
"The majority of the Council supported Miyonn..." Takier stated plainly, his scowl dark and bitter. "As you predicted they would, although I had hoped otherwise. And since we were unable to convince Lanniel to aid us, it is plain that we must act on this matter ourselves."
"She has become *tainted* during her time among the Anla'shok..." Rahkeel pointedly added. "For her to refuse to aid other members of her Clan, in this time of need? It is scarcely believable!"
""It is a dark day, indeed..." their guest pondered. "But not a wholly unexpected one, as you have just mentioned, Takier. Ever since *Delenn* arranged to have our creation taken away from us, I knew that this day would come." Shai Alit Kozorr leaned forward into the light, and smiled a completely disturbing smile. "And since you have proven with this little exercise of Summoning that the other Elders of your Clan are not willing to deal with this matter openly, a solution to this problem must be found using other, less *visible* avenues."
""Meaning what, exactly?" Takier demanded. "Make your meaning plain, Kozorr!"
"As you wish, Takier...attend! Eventually, there will come a day when Sheridan, Delenn and all who follow them will be proven wrong about their choices in this matter. And on that day, one of two possible outcomes will occur. 'Vi'dalae An'shaka' will once again be ours...or the Anla'shok will be denied its use.
One...or the other."
"Denied its use?" Rahkeel exclaimed, his interest plain. "How?"
"All in good time, Alit Rahkeel." Kozorr replied, a mysterious smile now on his face.