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

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        (disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture)

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        <<Act Two>>

        Bureau 13 vessel - nearing secondary staging area. 11:20 hrs, EST - Dec 11th, 2267.

        The man looking out at the ever-changing, ever chaotic red sea of hyperspace had gone by many names over the years, most of them masks used to hide who he really was, and what he really wanted. For instance, the name he'd used when first he and General Ari Ben Zayn had come into contact with one another... a name since discarded, an identity set aside, at least for the time being. Molyneux then briefly considered that perhaps even his core identity might be burned away and replaced in due course... but no - the times had not yet become desperate enough for such a radical move...

        Not so long as there was unfinished business to be taken care of, that was - not as long as the game he played remained interesting. Molyneux allowed his features to become more composed, and he sent out a hail on a very specific communications channel, a message that swiftly reached the other vessels that answered to him - vessels that the forces loyal to Ben Zayn knew nothing about. "King to Knight's Bishop One - your status?"

        "The assault force is gathered less than one jump from the Project's secondary staging area. As soon as you arrive, the attack will begin - we'll have you out of there in no time, sir."

        Molyneux allowed a chilly smile to appear on his face. "An event which will, I'm sure, give our esteemed friend the General an even larger headache then he's got already."

        The operative Molyneux was talking to was one of his most trusted agents, and as such was free to speak to him more candidly then others might. As this was so, the man codenamed 'Knight's Bishop One' then said, "Do you hate him so much?"

        "Hate?" Molyneux considered. "Not at all. It is perhaps more accurate to state that for the time being, the General and I are having... a difference of opinion. The decisions he has made are taking him down a road I have no wish to walk upon."

        "He seeks to rule by force," the operative agreed, "To overwhelmingly prove to Sheridan and the Alliance that he cannot be beaten in the military sense... and then, once the Alliance has been humbled, to bargain from a position of absolute strength."

        "An accurate assessment." Molyneux agreed. "From his viewpoint, once the Alliance fleet has been defeated, Sheridan will be forced to give him what he wants - and if our esteemed Alliance President is lead to believe that Ben Zayn is the only one who possesses the cure to the Plague..."

        "It hasn't come to that - not yet, anyways."

        "Nor will it - if all goes as I have foreseen." Molyneux's gaze hardened. "And now, let us return to the business at hand..."

* * *

        "So," Galen mused, as an image of the man named Molyneux faded away from the crystal globe in his hand, "Here we have a man who believes he is in control of every situation, even when fate has dictated otherwise. A man who reached out and changed the life of a ordinary child, who removed that youth from death's shadow, believing that it was in the best interests of his organization to do so.

        A man who believes he holds the puppet strings of all those around him, even as the fates control him in turn."

        From the control chamber of his own flyer, Vejar nodded, his expression one of regret. "That facet of his nature may be what will kill him eventually - all the same, Galen, we must remember that like us, Molyneux has also come to the conclusion that General Ben Zayn must be stopped - that he cannot be allowed to pursue his goals to their ultimate end."

        "Perhaps. And now," Galen countered. "To other matters. Vejar, the time has come for you to make a decision, a decision that may end a life if you choose wrongly. Your apprentice - is she ready to aid us in the rescue of Miss Hughes?"

        "Judge for yourself." At a whispered command, the holoimage's point of view shifted to show Jaida Tefano at practice, a small mage-globe glowing above her head. "As we had hoped would be the case, her mind is more than capable of calling upon the energies contained within the practice crystal. As you can see, she has progressed to manifesting the simplest of light globes, while I have also taught her how to manifest first-level defensive energies..."

        "Do not seek to give into her hands more than she can handle, Vejar," Galen warned. "Your apprentice is talented, I will admit - but as we are both aware, the younger apprentices of our order have sometimes been known to take on more intricate spells then they can handle, and have paid the price as a result."

        "You worry over nothing, my friend - she will do well in the task we have set her. In fact, now that I come to think about it, Jaida often reminds me of another apprentice I once knew, long ago. For instance, even though we are scarcely begun, the form of her magery is even now beginning to emerge."

        "Not equations, surely?" Vejar nodded. "In what form?"

        Then it was that the other mage smiled. "In the simplest of contexts... she appears to be using the language of life itself."

* * *

        The Excalibur - on the outer hull. 11:35 hrs, EST.

        During his time at Earthforce Academy, John Matheson had from time to time come across people who had professed to being afraid of hyperspace - afraid of the possibilities, afraid of what might be. And while long experience had proved that hyperspace was a dangerous place if taken lightly... at no time had Matheson ever been afraid of this domain - only of failure.

        But that time was not now, that place not here - and unlike his previous direct exposure, this time he had a job to do... and by God, he was going to do it right the first time. Matheson closed his eyes and allowed his sixth sense to expand outwards into the red and black mists surrounding the Excalibur and its task force - beyond those mists, to what lay beyond...

        <...lost in hyperspace, without power. To any Interstellar Alliance vessels within range...>

        Matheson's eyes snapped open - bingo. <Attention ISA vessel - this is Lieutenant John Matheson of the Earth Alliance destroyer Excalibur... do you receive?>

        Silence. Matheson muttered a curse as a particularly vivid flash of hyperspace lightning illuminated his surroundings - for want of a better description, the telepath in trouble seemed to be broadcasting in a specific telepathic 'range' - he'd had it for a moment, now all he had to do was find it again...

        <...systems damaged, life support near failure...>

        <Attention ISA vessel!> he tried again, <This is Lieutenant John Matheson, executive officer of the Excalibur - DO you receive?>

* * *

        It was only a whisper, but all the whisper had to do was rise out of the background noise - and that it did indeed. A whispered message more than sufficient to send a stab of disbelieving astonishment sleeting through Sheynell's mind. Lieutenant John Matheson - first officer on the ship she and the rest of the Shard's crew had spent the past year protecting. And now, for all she knew, the only telepath within range of her gifts. "Why me?" she pleaded, not looking for an answer, only wanting to say the words. "Why does it have to be ME who has to make this decision?"

        <You're special, Sheynell...> the memory of Bester whispered. <Your gifts are what makes you different from the mundanes. But never forget that when all is said and done, those gifts can destroy you or save you.>

        <What do you mean?> she'd asked him at the time.

        <Most times, it's all about... choices.>

        Later on, she and the rest would come to understand that this was the moment everything changed - the moment when the familiar was replaced by the unknown. But in the present, it all came down to a word. And then another. And another...

* * *

        <...I hear you, Lieutenant! - thank Valen you and your crew are out here. We've been without power for some time now, drifting down the... can you s... a ship to intercept our...>

        Matheson frowned - had she (it was definitely a she) just said Valen? <You're Rangers?>

        <Yes - w... tell you more when you get closer.>

        <I'll see what I can do.> Which was when Matheson decided to open another and far more conventional channel.

* * *

        It was only when the contact with Matheson faded away that Sheynell realized other and more nebulous presences were also 'visible' in the telepathic sense - presences heading towards her telepathic beacon at the best speed they could manage. "Nicholas, this is Sheynell, do you copy?"

        "Scratchily, at best." the Shard's hard-pressed chief engineer replied. "Can you make it snappy, I'm a little pressed for time at the moment - the life support system is only a hair's thread from failing entirely..."

        "As I recall, when this whole crisis started, you said something about needing power to get us out of this mess?"

        "Yeah, that's right - are we coming to a point any time soon?"

        Sheynell grinned as the now-familiar shapes of three Fen appeared out of the hyperspace mists. "Well, Nicholas, in this case I think it's more accurate to say that the point's come looking for us, actually."

* * *

        Meanwhile, in a section of hyperspace several sectors distant from Sheynell and her colleagues, the captain of the Night's Dagger was waiting for something... and the universe wasn't about to disappoint him. "Ah, Captain," one of Gardinier's junior crew members reported, her expression unhappy, "I think we've got a problem - the sensor network's found the end of the trail... as near as we can tell, the Shard's not there." The Ranger tensed, then - most of the 'Dagger's bridge crew knew about the friendship between their captain and the commander of the ship they were trying to find - what they were expecting was an explosion, at the very least some sign of anger. Instead, though, the result was something else entirely.

        "Yeah, that's pretty much what I was expecting to hear, actually." Gardinier replied after a moment, as the rest of the ships in the squadron came to a relative stop at the end of the trail. "Rebecca, get me White Star 66."

        "On line." the *'Dagger's* XO replied, as the equally blonde-haired and serious commander of that ship appeared on the viewscreen in front of them.

        "Talion, I don't know about you - but something's telling me this isn't the end of the story."

        The other Ranger nodded. "Julia's ship can't have been destroyed - there hasn't been nearly enough time for the wreckage to slide completely out of sensor range. And if they weren't destroyed, that means..."

        "A total loss of power?" Rebecca Anderson inquired, as she finally figured out where Talion and Gardinier were going with their line of thought. "That just happened to leave her ship intact - but why?"

        "Simple, really." Talion replied. "As we all know, Julia was trained from the ground up by the Westcastles, and they've managed to tick off a lot of people over the years - in that respect, she's no different. Plus, the President gave her a job to do, and come hell or high water, that job was going to get done, conseqences be damned - which just adds to the problem."

        "The list of people that don't like us or her is a long one."

        "The Drakh," Gardinier agreed, "The Eloi'a..."

        "And let's not forget the Warrior Caste Minbari that Sheridan removed from the center seat of the Shard just after the Drakh attacked Earth." Talion concluded.

        "A nasty list of opponents. The thing we have to remember, though, is that we lost contact with Julia and her crew before they reached this point, as in before the end of the trail..."

        "If Rahkeel's involved in this, he may have figured out a way to take control of the Shard away from Julia - which might explain the comm loss."

        "While Nicholas Dawson may have figured out a way to interfere their plans, and that's why the trail's ended?" Anderson inquired. "If that's true, maybe the bad guys never got to them, and they're still out here somewhere!"

        "Okay, people," Gardinier challenged, "Supposing we're right about this, that still leaves us with the problem of finding a ship that's almost completely lost its energy signature... any ideas?"

        "Well," Talion replied, "Now that you mention it, I do, actually. As I recall, your ship is the only one in our little hunting party to use the sensor drones first used in the Shard of Night - can we reconfigure them as a kind of, well, telescope to hunt for faint energy sources, while filtering out the general background hyperspace noise at the same time?"

        A grin appeared on Gardinier's face at those words. "Rebecca?"

        "I'm on it!" Anderson declared. "Please stand by, gentlemen - one miracle coming up!"

        "She hopes." Talion wisecracked.

* * *

        Down-gradient from Acheson IV colony. 12:05 hrs, EST.

        "I'm sorry, but is anyone in this shuttle going to tell me why we're just sitting here on top of a hyperspace beacon that any reasonable explorer knows should have a sign labeled 'middle of nowhere' attached to it in hundred klick high letters?"

        Eilerson drew in a deep breath, counted downwards from ten, and then forced a smile onto his face. "Mr. Miller, if there's only one thing you've learned during the last year, I hope it's this - sometimes the quietest places in the galaxy can be the most important. For instance..."

        Eilerson paused then as a faint beeping sound emerged from the transport's communications equipment - a beeping that came in a sequence he knew only too well. "Oh, good! - it looks like he did get the signal, after all." Max leant forward and opened a channel as a medium-sized IPX cruiser emerged out of the hyperspace fog. "This is Eilerson to Charlemagne - Moreau, there are some days when I'm sure all the honest people in this company have been fired... and then I remember you."

        "Some people would take that as a compliment, Max - but that's only until they get to know you better. So... the rumour hill has it that Gideon's sent you on a witchhunt. You know what'll happen if the big bosses back home find out about this, don't you?"

        "Well, then, we'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen, won't we? So... do you have the data I'm looking for?"

        "I think so - how soon can you come aboard?"

        Eilerson grinned. "Renly, you just said the magic words. We're coming in."

* * *

        The Shard - 12:12 hrs, EST.

        "Nicholas, what she's suggesting... do we actually have any hope of pulling this off?"

        "If the Fen are careful with their, er, output... yeah, this just might do the trick," the engineer confirmed, a wary smile on his face as he considered the nightmare that would result if Sheynell's giant telepathic jelllyfish friends didn’t take it easy. "Lesaki and his team are hard at work trying to figure out a way to unspool a few dozen, well, antennae outside..."

        "Antennae?" Klairika inquired, a frown creasing her brow. "Please forgive me for asking again, Nicholas, but what, exactly, are we trying to accomplish here again?"

        "Okay, everyone remembers the little trick the Fen pulled off when we ran into their predators, right? Our giant buddies out there have come up with a way of generating giant lightning bolts to avoid getting gobbled - if they can shoot out a little bit of juice while we've got the antennae unreeled, we should be able to recharge all of our batteries and hopefully stablize the life support... theoretically. Heck, if we play this right, there's every chance I might even be able to restart a computer or two. And after that, anything's possible."

        "Well, well..." Julia said, as a faint smile appeared on her face, "It's nice to see that someone's remembered their history lesson."

        "What history lesson?" a puzzled Dawson replied.

        Sheynell caught a glimpse of what Julia was thinking, and laughed. "I have to admit the analogy is an apt one - although of course Mr. Dawson isn't using a kite to collect his electricity."

        "Oh droll..." Dawson grumbled, "Very droll. Sorry to disappoint you, ladies, but Ben Franklin I'm not."

        "Ah, now I remember the human history you are referring to." Klairika declared. "This Franklin person, he was an inventor, yes? An inventor who sent some sort of fabric device into a storm, trying to understand electricity?"

        "In other words, an inventor - just like our favorite engineer."

        "But the idea is a sound one - perhaps the energy we collect will be enough to keep us alive until the ship Sheynell has contacted arrives at this location..."

* * *

        Other places, other conversations.

        "What the Hell are you trying to pull?" Kavanagh demanded of his colleague, as the renegade slowly brought his stealth-ship creation into range of the transfer gate he was going to use to get the Hell away from the patrols searching for him. "It's been a hard enough job using the jump points generated by the ships searching for me... if the General and his goons trace your call, there's every chance I'll get sliced to shreds before I reach my goal, damnit!"

        "You worry too much, my friend - no one has traced this call. What I have to tell you is important - Kavanagh, you must go to Acheson IV. A source close to us has informed me that Gideon has sent his Interplanetary Expeditions servant to discover the identities of the indiviudals in charge of the war effort. If you are so intent on disrupting the General's plans, would it not be in your... no, our best interests to attempt a rendezvous with this individual?"

        "Yeah," Kavanagh agreed, "It just might at that. Hey - if you know about this IPX guy, does the General?"

        The other man nodded somberly. "The General knows that Gideon's servant is poking his nose into places it doesn't belong - but doesn't as yet know of Max Eilerson's present whereabouts. When he does, however, you know what will happen."

        "Yeah," Kavanagh ground out, "The General will dispatch one of his ships, and Eilerson and his friends'll be dead in no time flat. Thanks for the warning - looks like I'm going to have to get to them first, is all."

        "Be very sure that you do, Kavanagh. Very... sure."

* * *

        "Where is the Excalibur?"

        "Our latest intelligence puts them enroute to the primary Alliance rendezvous point in Sector 971 - they do not travel alone."

        "Of course they don't - even though the Excalibur's captain prefers to operate independently, that ship remains the jewel in Sheridan's crown - a jewel I shall very much enjoy crushing. Dispatch the first and third battlegroups to deal with Gideon's ship."

        "And what of the vessels accompanying them?"

        A smile appeared on General Ari Ben Zayn's face, and that smile was not, of course, a pleasant one. "You may destroy them, of course.

        All of them."

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        To be continued...

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