("A Cry in the Dark", Act I)

"STAR AND CIRCLE: THE SEEKER'S FIRE"
EPISODE TWENTY: "A CRY IN THE DARK"

'Featuring'

GARY COLE as Captain Matthew Gideon
DANIEL DAE KIM as Lt John Matheson
DAVID ALLEN BROOKS as Max Eilerson
ALEX MENDOZA as Trace Miller
ETHAN HAWKE as Renly Moreau
ROB LOWE as Kavanagh
JASON PRIESTLEY as Nathan Gardinier
MEGAN WARD as Rebecca Anderson
LINDSAY LOHAN as Jaida Tefano
MEREDITH HENDERSON as Kaitlyn Hughes
EUGENE ROBERT GLAZER as Molyneux
LANCE HENRIKSON as Praetor Questus
PETER WOODWARD as Galen
*and* GREGORY MARTIN as General Ari Ben Zayn

* * *
(disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture)

* * *

        <<Act One>>

        Onboard the Excalibur - enroute to rendezvous point with Alliance forces. The personal quarters of Max Eilerson. 09:45 hrs, EST.

        There had been some days in the past year when Max Eilerson had regretted accepting the offer that a certain individual had made him - an offer that had lead him into ruins on a hundred different worlds, and into a situation which other scientists might have treated as a lost cause. But even though the dangers had been great, the spinoff opportunities involved in Matthew Gideon's quest were almost enough to make one forget about those dangers. The thing was, every world they visited was a world added to the database he was building up - a list of worlds for IPX to investigate, once this was all over.

        Except... now, there was something else he was regretting having done, as well. "I just *had* to go and open my mouth and say something stupid, didn't I? 'Ah, Captain Gideon, maybe you should know that the local representative of Interplanetary Expeditions is a bit bored at the moment - is there something, anything I can do while you and the other soldiers are busy fighting the bad guys?"

        "Well, Doc, you know what? - it could be worse."

        Eilerson scowled. "Gimme a break, Miller - we haven't yet found a cure for the plague, Gideon's allowed himself to be diverted into this war..."

        Something even he was aware of was that the man standing in his doorway considered himself to be one of the Excalibur's hottest pilots, as well as the guy everyone should rely on when the going got tough - but in response to Eilerson's outburst all Trace Miller did was shrug nonchalantly and say, "We could all be dead, you know. After all, if Galen hadn't stopped that..."

        Eilerson snorted as he turned his attention back to gathering together the few possessions he would need for the mission ahead, interrupting the pilot in his train of thought - the last thing he needed to think about right now was the Excalibur's semi-resident Technomage. "At this point, being dead might just be simpler."

        "Simpler, sure... but maybe less productive. Scuttlebutt has it that the Captain's assigned you the task of helping to figure out who's the power behind these ships we're fighting..."

        "Well, since you're supposed to be guarding my back and flying me around on this mission, Mr. Miller, I suppose you deserve at least this much... in this case, 'scuttlebutt' seems to be sharing the same bed with the truth."

        "Yeah, that's what I figured." Miller replied. "So - you wouldn't happen to have any ideas where we should look to find some answers for the Captain, would you?"

        Eilerson nodded grimly. "As it turns out, I do - but before I put any of them in motion, we need to get the Hell off of this ship."

        "In that case, Doc... after you."

* * *

        In the Shadows - first movement.

        "You can't seriously be considering doing this. You know what will happen if they uncover your plans before you act?"

        The other man in the room nodded, his expression a mixture of desperation and need. "Yeah, I know - but here's a news flash for you... someone's got to do something before it's too late."

        "I never thought the day would come when you would betray the Project, Kavanagh - when you would turn your back on the opportunities involved..."

        "To Hell with the opportunities... to Hell with it all!"

        "All?"

        Kavanagh grimaced, conceding his friend's point. "All right, I'll admit the technology's a marvel, even though the race that invented it still creeps me out at the best of times - but I can't condone what's being done with it. What gives them the right to try and take over the galaxy every five years? What gives them the right to drag us into their battles, huh? It's time for someone to make a stand - and if that someone has to me, then so be it."

        "I can't change your mind, then?"

        "Nope - not a chance. Y'see, everyone in the Project trusts me, and that just might be their greatest mistake, because I'm one of the few people in this organization that knows how to make the prototype work..."

        "Ah, yes... of course - the scoutship you designed. A ship that emulates the stealth technologies the Minbari built into their one of a kind battlecruisers. You intend to steal the ship and slip through the enemy lines with the stealth mode enabled, then?"

        The other man nodded. "Yeah, something like that. Now that it looks like the General's allies have managed to take out Tikopai and her Rangers, the very next thing he'll be gunning for is Gideon and his crew - and if they're killed..."

        "Enough." the first man interrupted. "I won't pretend I like what it is you're doing - but I understand why you're doing it. And am enough of a friend to you not to interfere. Good luck to you, then - good luck to us all."

* * *

        ISAS Shard of Night - adrift in hyperspace. 10:11 hrs, EST.

        One step was all it took - a step that took her away from safety and out into the unknown. A small step that might turn into a giant leap if she wasn't careful, now that the Shard's articial gravity field was, as Nicholas had so accurately put it a few minutes earlier, 'beginning to have hiccups'.

        <Do you know who you are?>

        Sheynell closed her eyes and tried not to shudder. There had once been a time when she would have rushed to answer that question. A time before the War that had torn the Psi Corps apart - that organization she'd once sworn to uphold with her life... a life she would have lost if Brianna Tolmanes hadn't come to help her in the end.

        <We are family, Miss Keynes - never forget that.>

        A life filled with the people she had known - the ones who'd taught her, the ones she'd called friends and enemies... and her mentor.

        <There's a lot of things the mundanes don't know about us, Sheynell - a lot of things they don't understand.>

        "Bester," she whispered, "How long, damnit? How long are you going to haunt me?" The answer to that question, of course, was a simple one. She'd read the reports... the ones that told the truth about the man who'd almost had it all and then had lost everything he held dear. Deep down inside, she knew he was still alive - and if they survived this, sooner or later she was going to have to find him.

        "Sheynell... is everything all right?"

        She blinked, and then rose to her feet, the voice of her captain tearing her away from the sins and memories of her past. That moment would come eventually - but for now, it was time to put into practice another of the secrets Bester had taught her - how hyperspace magnified a telepath's abilitities... a gift she'd used to full effect during their encounter with the Fen and their predator enemies, months before. "Yes, everything's just... fine - I just needed a moment to steady myself."

        "The sooner you start broadcasting, the better."

        "Understood." And just like that Sheynell turned her mind's eye away from the ship below her and the friends within it, and into the uncharted seas beyond. "One distress beacon coming online...

        Now."

* * *

        Strike Cruiser Night's Dagger - enroute in hyperspace. Captain's quarters. 10:30 hrs, EST.

        "Sir, I just thought you'd like to know - we've reached the area of hyperspace where the Shard of Night last reported in... your orders?"

        "Keep us on stationkeeping for now." Nathan Gardinier replied, as he turned his attention away from the game of chess he'd been playing with the ship's computer to meet the concerned gaze of his first officer. "Anla'shok Quintara and Dechene are out there searching for the Shard's energy trail - and as much as I'd like to leave the rendezvous point and join the search, the other captains need someone to act as a beacon source while they're combing the area... and that's us."

        "Yes... sir."

        Gardinier frowned. "Is there something else you'd like to ask me, Rebecca?"

        "As a matter of fact," the blonde haired Ranger replied, "There is. This is, what, the third time this year we've either relieved or gone to the aid of the Shard of Night's crew... this friend of yours, is she some sort of lightning rod for trouble, or something?"

        Gardinier laughed bitterly, and nodded. "I was wondering how long it would take you to notice that... and believe it or not, the cause appears to be genetic. Since we've got a little bit of time on our hands, I'm going to tell you a story - because to understand Julia, you really have to understand where she came from - and what mood she was in the first time we met one another..."

* * *

        Babylon 5 - the Ranger compound. Early July, 2261.

        "And that's exactly the way it happened," Friedman told Gardinier, as they made their way into the dining hall. "Captain Sheridan flew a jet pack into the back of the gate through a hole in the energy shield, and blew the whole thing to kingdom come..." The unfolding of the tale paused for a moment, then, as the two young trainees got their breakfast, and then, "For which we should all be eternally grateful. Because if those things on the other side had brought their fleet through... well, the only powers that would've stood a chance are the powers we've just banished beyond the Rim, if you know what I'm saying?"

        "I do indeed." Gardinier agreed, his expression thoughtful as they took their seats. "And since Sheridan was the one who told the Shadows and the Vorlons to get lost, we had to deal with this problem on our own... which he did. I'm sorry I missed the fireworks... our captain tried to get us here in time to help the rest, but by the time our White Star arrived, it was all over but for the hazmat clearup."

        Friedman laughed between wolfing down bites of food. "Don't suppose those guys ever get a day off, what with all the battles that go on around here..." Gardinier's friend paused then, however, as he realized his companion wasn't listening to him anymore. "Hey! - ground control to Nathan, you listening to me?"

        "Who's that?" Gardinier asked, as he nodded in the direction of a dark-haired girl two tables over, her hands cradled round what looked to be an extremely large cup of tea.

        "Who... oh, that's just Tikopai. Word has it she's the protege of Val'na Clifford, among other things."

        "I... see." Gardinier finally replied, his eyes narrow with thought as he tried figure out how old the girl was. "Isn't she a little, ah..."

        "Young to be a Ranger? Wellll, I guess the age requirement's been waived in her case, something to do with special circumstances - hey, where the Hell are you..."

        "Hi there." Nathan began, as he slid into the chair opposite the girl's, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you look like you need some cheering up."

        "Oh great..." came the muttered reply, "And I suppose they put you up to this?"

        "Well, if I knew who 'they' were, maybe I could answer your question." Nathan grinned as the girl finally tore her gaze away from her studies to glare at him. "The name's Gardinier. Nathan Gardinier - recently arrived at this humble abode from Proxima III, by way of Minbar."

        "Julia. Are you trying to tell me they really didn't put you up to this?" Gardinier raised an eyebrow, and received a sigh in response. "Right. I suppose I owe you an apology, then... and an explanation. In case you haven't heard..."

        "I've heard. While my next question is this - if you're so close in with the high and mighty..."

        "Why am I here, instead of with them?" Julia inquired, her tone a trifle sharper then Gardinier liked. "Because, Mr. Gardinier, I screwed up... big time. Let's put it this way - the Thirdspace aliens beckoned, and I welcomed them with open arms."

        "Whoops. Hey, looks like your tea's getting cold."

        "Doesn't matter - it's almost time for weapons practice, anyways..."

* * *

        "Don't tell me, let me guess - you ended up becoming one of her sparring partners, and helped to drag her out of her post-Thirdspace depression?"

        "And the rest, as they say, is history." Gardinier confirmed. "She's a good friend, 'Becca - and I'm going to be more than a little annoyed if something's happened to her..." <chime> Gardinier's expression hardened as he touched the crystal toggle on his desk. "This is the Captain - go ahead."

        "Val'na Quintara sends word, sir - they've found the trail."

* * *

         Elsewhere in hyperspace.

        <#Do you hear the Singer's thoughts?#>

        <-We hear the fear in the Song- >

        <#The Singer is in trouble - we remember the Promise that was made, to help if help was needed. Sheynellkeynes helped us in our time of need - the right thing, it must be done#>

        <!Must be done, yes!>

        A moment of silence, and annoyance. <#Excitable as always - do not recall inviting you into our circle of planning#>

        <!Help is called for, we are friend to Singer - will come with you, if go you do!>

        <-The Elders will not be pleased with us... if we encounter eaters along the way, they will not be there to help us->

        <#Time-of-childhood is now past - mature we are, mature enough to make our own decisions, mature enough to know when right thing needs to be done. The Elders will understand... we will explain all upon our return to the family#>

        <-It is so agreed->

        <!We go?!>

        <#We go... now#>

* * *

        The Excalibur - main bridge. 10:50 hrs, EST.

        The first time it happened, John Matheson thought that it was only part of the background telepathic noise generated by the hundreds of crewmen and women who kept the Captain's command running smoothly, someone broadcasting louder then they normally would for a second or so. The second time, though, was harder to ignore.

        <...Anyone...>

        "What the Hell?"

        "Lieutenant, is there a problem?"

        Matheson took a moment to compose his thoughts, and then nodded in the direction of his captain. "Maybe. For want of a better description, sir... I think I'm picking up pieces of a distress signal."

        <...Lost... without...>

        Gideon frowned... and then the Excalibur's captain figured out what Matheson was talking about, and with raised eyebrows, tapped the side of his head. "Are you trying to tell me..."

        "Yes, sir - the signal's telepathic in nature."

        "Which probably means," a now interested Gideon mused, "That the ship that telepath is serving on has lost its ability to broadcast by normal means. Were you able to determine the name of the ship, or its location?"

        Matheson shook his head - the signal, broken and already on the edge of perception, had faded completely into the background noise. "There's too much background noise getting in the way - all the same, whoever that is out there could be in serious trouble. Captain, I need to get a better fix on their location -- request permission to conduct an EVA walk out on the hull. Sir."

        "Now hold on just a minute, Lieutenant," Gideon cautioned, "In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a war zone out here, and even though we'll be reaching the rendezvous point soon enough, the enemy could attack us at any time."

        "I know that - but I may be the only telepath within range of the one sending out that distress signal, and as such, might be the only hope the crew of that ship's got."

        A long moment passed, but finally Gideon cracked a smile, and conceded the point. "In which case, we may have to divert from our present course to investigate the situation. All right, John - go and suit up... looks like you're going for a little walk."

* * *

        Onboard Vejar's flyer. 11:05 hrs, EST.

        In the beginning and the end, there were the words - the words he had spoken to her the first time they'd met. The words that had brought her to this place and onto this craft, and farther towards her destiny. "Who are you?"

        Jaida cast back the hood of her cloak and turned to face her master, her expression as composed as one of her age could manage. "A seeker of knowledge."

        "What do you want?"

        "To learn what can be learnt, to serve as you have served - to always do the right thing."

        "To abide by our laws, to honour our Code as all who have come before us have. A fair enough answer, that is... but now we walk into danger, and the time has come for us to progress to the next stage of your instruction. As you will soon learn, dressing as we do and learning the tricks of the chameleon are only the beginning." Vejar paused then, as if weighing several options in his mind - but finally opened his hand, and as Jaida watched, a puff of flame suddenly appeared there. A flame that vanished as quickly as it had come, to be replaced by a violet crystal pendant on a chain of silver.

        "Now I give into your care your first true gift. Go on," Vejar insisted with a smile when Jaida hesitated, "Put it on - I assure you that it won't bite..."

        "Ow!"

        "At least not too badly." the mage amended a moment later, while Jaida looked suspiciously at the pendant resting at the base of her neck. "Skin contact is necessary, else the crystal will not be able to respond to your thoughts and wishes."

        Jaida's eyes widened. "Are you trying to tell me that if I want to make something, oh, appear, all I have to do is think about it, and it'll, well... happen?”

        "Within certain limitations, yes. Associate!" Vejar commanded, and Jaida jumped as the pendant began to glow. "Recall from your youth, child, a memory of something dear to you."

        She nodded, closed her eyes... and then a moment later, opened them - and a disbelieving smile appeared on her face as a glittering image of a Lebrellai blossom unfolded in the air above her hand. "Oh, wow!"

        A smile that Vejar echoed. "Let there be light," the mage said, "And there was."

* * *

        In the Shadows - second movement.

        "You have something to report?"

        "Yes, sir. You may be interested to learn that one of the scientists working for the General has been growing a trifle rebellious of late."

        "Yes... the one named Kavanagh - we have your reports, we have heard of this man. Continue!"

        The operative nodded. "As of five minutes ago, things have become a little more concrete..."

* * *

        "Where is it?" the commander barked, as his subordinates scurried to and fro trying to figure out what had gone wrong. "Where's the damn flyer?"

        "We're not sure, sir... right up until the moment they engaged their stealth mode, everything seemed to be going according to plan, but then..."

        "Contact was lost." the commander replied. "The question is, was that loss accidental... or deliberate?"

        Regardless of which it was, the commander knew that someone would have to tell General Ben Zayn that something had gone wrong - and as head of this particular facility, that dubious honor fell on his shoulders. While everyone knew what the General did to bearers of bad news...

* * *

A fair distance away from the Project's asteroid base, the spacecraft in question briefly flickered into view, a pause just long enough to cast off the bodies of the former pilot and co-pilot. That task accomplished, the systems engineer named Kavanagh turned his attention away from the unpleasantness just past and towards his next task... getting the hell out of the area without being seen. "I'm sorry I had to do that to you, gentlemen..." he muttered, "But desperate times call for desperate measures.

And the times, they don't get any more desperate then this."

* * *

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