("The Few and Far Between", Act II)

"STAR AND CIRCLE: THE SEEKER'S FIRE"
EPISODE SIXTEEN: "THE FEW AND FAR BETWEEN"

(disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture)

* * *

        <<Act Two>>

        16:55 hrs, EST -- Sept 4th, 2267. Near the Drazi/Centauri border - ISAS 'Night's Dagger' -- captain's ready room.

        "Well whaddaya know..." Nathan Gardinier muttered, as he and the tactical officer of the 'Night's Dagger' stared at each other across the captain's chess board, "That sure looks like *checkmate* to me, Mac."

        "Well I'll be damned..." James McCaffrey muttered, as he glared at the board, trying his best to prove his captain wrong. "Have you been practicing against the computer in your off-duty hours, or something?"

        "Or something, yes." Gardinier admitted, his grin widening. "Except, don't forget that the laws of statistics suggest that I *should* win a game against you once in a while."

        "Well that settles it..." The argument was broken off then, however, by the chime sequence that meant one thing and one thing only to every captain in the Fleet -- summons to battlestations. And a moment later chess was the last thing on either Ranger's mind as they abandoned their post-game banter and ran for the bridge.

        "We've just received a priority-one request for tactical assistance from the *Shard of Night*, sir." Rebecca Anderson informed her captain even as Gardinier arrived. "Captain Tikopai went so far as to indicate that they'd been jumped by three enemy cruisers and had to leave their away team behind. And also that this new threat appears to be utilizing Shadow technology... in a *big* way."

        "Well, Hell, here we go again..." Gardinier stopped, and turned to face Anderson. "Wait a minute -- did you just say she left some of her people behind?"

        "Yes, sir. And as for the reason, I think she wants to explain that to you herself."

        The grim expression on Gardinier's face deepened then, as Julia Tikopai's normally-composed features shimmered into view on the bridge's main projection display... except today she looked almost... frightened? "Hey, kid -- what the Hell happened to you out there? And what's this about Shadowtech warships?"

        "It's true, Nathan -- we were sent to investigate a possible Swarm outbreak... but what we found looks to be *much* worse, instead." Julia nodded sharply at someone offscreen... and then Nathan stiffened in surprise as the image split to show a shimmery-black spiky-armed vessel against the darkness of space, surrounded by many tiny fighters of a similar appearance. "We don't have a clue who's fielding these ships -- but not only do they use Shadowtech in a big way... it also looks as if they could *see* us while we were in stealth-mode."

        Gardinier whistled, his tone one of dismay. "Damn... well, that *would* explain why you turned tail and ran for the hills. So... let me see if I've got this straight, Jules -- you want us to come on over, help you retrieve your people and maybe kick some Shadow ally butt?"

        "And as many other ships as we and Headquarters can scare up to deal with this new threat." the reply came... but Nathan grinned when he saw that she *was* smiling a bit at last -- apparently the old nickname he'd given her during their training on B5 back at the end of the Shadow War had done the trick, after all. "See if you can call in some favours... meanwhile I'm going to call on the President and see if he can help out with our, ah, little problem."

        "Good luck... you'll need it." Little, huh? "And just so you know, we'll be getting underway shortly -- if all goes well we'll be in your neck of the woods in about six or seven hours time."

        "Sounds *great* to me."

        "Right, then -- we'll see you on the flip side then, Julia. *Night's Dagger* out."

* * *

        "... and that, I'm afraid -- is the situation we're facing, Mr. President." Julia concluded. "We got out of there before they could fire on us... and while we don't really have an idea of what kind of firepower they're wielding..."

        "Just the size of the ships themselves gives us a pretty good idea, doesn't it?" John Sheridan replied from the other end of the FTL tachyon link in Tuzanor, his tone wearier than Julia could ever remember hearing. "At least half the size of the Shadow warships we ran into during the war... maybe more."

        "But no screams. Whatever these ships are, they don't appear to be alive -- and as so, they're probably not controlled by the Swarm. Which means..."

        "Which probably means this is just *another* of the Shadow ally races looking for a rematch." the President finished for her.

        "A likely possibility." Julia agreed. "Your orders?"

        "We need to handle this before word of this latest attack gets out, Captain -- we don't need a repeat of the panic that happened after the Drakh attack. As such..." and at that Julia watched the President's eyes flicker briefly over some figures on the computer screen in front of him, "As it turns out, the Worker Caste have just commissioned the *Aramain* and the *Shalnaer*..." Those, Julia knew, were the second and third members of the new Ranger strike cruiser class -- sister ships to Nathan Gardinier's command. "Is it your belief that those ships, together with the *Night's Dagger* and your own command, and maybe a White Star or three, will be sufficient to handle this threat?"

        "I believe so, Mr. President." Julia agreed. "And thank you, sir."

        "Don't thank me until it's over, Captain -- because if it's one thing I've learned the hard way, you don't count your victories until the battles are actually fought. ISA HQ... out."

        "And that was supposed to make me feel better?" Julia grumbled, after the President's image faded away.

        "No... but sometimes the truth hurts." Julia spun around on her heel to see Sheynell in the ready room doorway. "While it looks like *you* can come down from your pedestal for a bit, since it seems we have a bit of a wait in store. Want to talk about it?"

        *No*, a part of her screamed, my burden, *my* duty... but the larger part said... "Sure."

* * *

Captain's Log, Earth Alliance Starship *Excalibur* (cot'd)

Doesn't seem as if I'm ever gonna learn not to ask stupid questions. Because sooner or later, someone or something comes along and gives out equally improbable answers.

* * *

        The *Excalibur* -- captain's quarters. 17:47 hrs, EST.

        The moment Gideon stepped through the door of his quarters, he heard it -- heard the whispers that no one else seemed to... which was a good thing, most of the time. The voice that spoke to him and him alone... when it so chose. "Time." the voice said again. "The time has come."

        His expression guarded, Gideon brought the box out of its hiding place. "The time for *what*?"

        "Hunting time." the apocalypse box replied. "They are hiding from you -- they are following what you seek. Find them, and understand the rest."

        Gideon's eyes widened... and then narrowed suspiciously. "What I seek? Do you mean the ship that killed the *Cerberus*? And who the Hell are *they*?"

        "Find them, and understand." the box replied. "The ones you seek, the ones who serve... the ones who *follow*. They are hiding from you."

        "Where are they?"

        The box told him... and a moment later, the captain of the *Excalibur* left his quarters at a run.

* * *

        *Excalibur* -- conference room. 17:57 hrs, EST.

        "We're going *where*?" Galen carefully inquired, after Gideon finished explaining that they were about to change course... and where it was they were headed. "Forgive me for pointing this out, Matthew... but there aren't any planets full of old ruins in that sector. What you will discover, however, if you're not careful... are things that are better off left buried."

        "Like the truth, maybe?" Gideon challenged. "My *source* is telling me that the ships I'm looking for are going to be in Sector 975..."

        "Ships?" the technomage parried. "Not 'ship'?"

        "Ship, ships, what's the difference?" the now irritable captain of the *Excalibur* replied. "What does matter is that I've been given a chance to start unraveling some of the mysteries that have been bugging me for years, now... while at the same time we get to take on an enemy that's already destroyed several ISA explorer ships and killed hundreds if not thousands of people."

        "I'm afraid he's right about that, Galen." Matheson stated. "One of the articles of alliance states that in times of crisis, it is expected that deep patrol captains in Earthforce render any and all assistance they can to ISA commanders in military operations..."

        "Oh... Rangers, you mean?" Galen said.

        "That's right... most of the time." Matheson replied, his tone wary. "Although there are those rumours going around about Sheridan wanting to establish some sort of joint-race military operation outside the Ranger chain of command."

        "Oh well... if you're looking for an excuse to go on a wild goose chase, Matthew, I suppose this one will *have* to do."

        "One thing, sir..." Matheson inquired, "What do we tell headquarters if they should happen to call?"

        "We are experiencing technical difficulties -- please stand by?"

        "Captain..."

         "Just kidding, Lieutenant. You can tell them *this*..."

* * *

        Shortly thereafter, with the *Excalibur* on its way towards Sector 975 at the best speed its engines could manage, Galen retreated to his private sanctum on the hanger deck of the enormous Victory Class destroyer -- to think on matters, but also to speak to the Others about this matter. Galen had given Sheridan, and in some respects Matthew as well, reason to believe that the Others had cast him out. That this was not... entirely accurate was something no one needed to know at the moment, of course.

        "Galen -- what have you learned?"

        "It is as I suspected -- a survivor of one of Sheridan's private little wars has fallen in with bad company. They're desperate, you see -- perhaps their need for power will be their undoing."

        "You speak of those who destroyed Gideon's ship, before we allowed you to rescue him?"

        Galen nodded. "I'm afraid that it's an obsession with him -- and until that obsession is broken, he will progress no farther towards his destiny. But there is another matter to consider, as well -- the Observer and her crew are also involved in this matter. They are gathering their own forces to strike against the enemy as we speak."

        "And the Convergence -- is it come?"

        "Soon." Galen said. "Very soon now -- but not yet. Prophecy's child does not as yet understand the full extent of her gifts. But when she does..."

        "If she does, and is willing to make the sacrifice, we may yet be saved from That Which is to Come." Galen inclined his head, taking the point as moot. "And when the Convergence comes..."

        "I will be waiting, and watching. We've waited a long time for this, friend -- we can wait a while longer yet."

* * *

        In Sector 975, one of the three warships answering to the command of the mysterious human named Guttricht Haaker hung in synchronous orbit above the surface of a world of refuge, a world on which a small group of Rangers had secreted themselves, hoping to hide from their enemies. The Z'shailyl named Prein found this concept highly amusing, of course, as his Zener underlings carefully examined the surface of the world with the highly advanced sensor suite his vessel possessed -- a partly living array that was one of the few legacies remaining to his people now that the Ancient Masters were gone beyond the galactic rim. "Have you found them yet?" Prein inquired.

        "We believe so." one Zener replied. "We will, however, need to send a landing party down to those coordinates to be sure."

        "Not unexpected." Prein allowed, as he turned to face another, much younger member of his race waiting nearby. "Mathasar."

        "Que'zhail."

        "You are to take your warriors down to the surface and acquire for me some of these... Rangers. I wish to ask them some questions."

        "It shall be as you say, Que'zhail. And if they resist?"

        "If they resist, they are to be punished for that crime -- but remember, Mathasar, I want them intact. If any are killed, Haaker will be most displeased."

        "We understand." Mathasar promised, as he left the bridge. "We shall return with the prey in hand."

        "I'm sure you will, Mathasar." Prein observed. "I'm sure.. you will."

* * *

        The surface -- 18:15 hrs, EST.

        "They're coming for us, aren't they?" Courtney whispered, as she hunkered down next to Azhahk in the cave they'd been hiding in since they'd landed on this godawful world almost two hours before. "Who do you think they are?"

        "Not the Drakh -- since the destruction of their stolen deathcloud above Earth, they have shown no sign of possessing other Shadow technology to cast against us. For if they had it..."

        "They would have used it against us, already?"

        "Indeed." Shein commented from nearby. "Our Captain and her crew have destroyed many of their warships since the destruction of the deathcloud -- and the Drakh have shown themselves to have little patience with waiting, since then. As such..."

        "It's not them, because they would have used them already." Courtney reluctantly agreed. "Okay, so if not the Drakh, then who?"

        "Perhaps the Z'shailyl." Fenric reminded the other two Rangers. "Recall if you will that the renegade Moreil has mentioned from time to time that the rest of his people were ordered to serve the Drakh's dark purpose. While we have also heard rumours of another former servant race named *Zener*..."

        Fenric fell silent then, however, as one of his fighter pilots emerged from out of the foggy darkness. "An assault craft has landed, sir -- I estimate perhaps ten or twenty soldiers moving in this direction. Your orders?"

        "Return to your craft at once -- if we are destined to fall in this place... then that fate cannot be avoided. But not all of us need die -- when our captain returns, if you listen to your instincts, you may yet return to *An'shaka dal* to tell our tale."

        "It shall be as you say, sir." the younger pilot replied, his tone one of regret... and understanding. And with that, the two bowed to one another, and the other Ranger vanished back the way he had come -- at which point Fenric beckoned Courtney over, and pressed something into her hand. "Anla'shok Ellis -- I trust you know the basics of pikesmanship?"

        Courtney gulped -- and then nodded. "Yeah -- I took part in an after-hours intro lesson in Tuzanor... but I didn't do so good, if you know what I'm saying?"

        "Nevertheless, it appears as if you will soon be called upon to defend yourselves from this new and perhaps unknown enemy. The weapon is yours, Miss Ellis... at least for the time being. Use it wisely."

        A short time passed, and then Shein beckoned her two human companions closer to the entrance. "Someone is moving out there -- I think..."

        The Minbari fell silent then, however, as a siblilant voice became audible, its tone mocking. "Rangersss... your way of escape is blocked -- your ship and captain have deserted you, and we are capable of overwhelming you and yours, if we so choose. You would be well advised to sssurrender while you still can."

        "We are Rangers." Fenric curtly replied. "We do *not* surrender."

        Courtney shivered at the harsh words -- this wasn't... actually happening, was it? They weren't going to... "Ssso be it, then." the voice replied, its tone now full of menace. "Then we will do thisss - *our* way." At which point a horde of grey-armored warriors rushed into the cave. And then it was that Courtney yelled out a challenge -- and despite her earlier misgivings, and with Fenric and Shein at her side, she rushed forward, pike in hand.

        The outcome was never in doubt for a moment.

* * *

        "Have you captured them?" Prein inquired.

        "Some of them, Que'zhail." Mathasar replied from his position on the surface. "The three who came in the transport were easy to capture -- the other warriors are returning them to our smallcraft as we speak. As for the pilots of the three fightercraft, we have yet to locate them..."

        "We do have time to continue the search at this time." Prein replied after a momentary hesitation. "Return to the ship with your prisoners, Mathasar -- we will be moving into stealthmode shortly."

        "But, Que'zhail!... if the Rangers still at large return to their ship, word of what has happened here may reach their mistress-captain. She will most certainly come in pursuit, along with whatever reinforcements Sheridan has sent to this region."

        "Yes." Prein agreed. "Exactly."

        "Que'zhail?"

        "Return to the ship, Mathasar... at once. Once you arrive, I will explain everything."

* * *

        There was darkness, and there was pain -- and for a while that was the entirety of Courtney's world. But then she remembered the exercises the senior instructors in Tuzanor had taught them... one of which dealt with situations just like this one... and also how best to control pain inflicted due to torture or imprisonment. And eventually the moment came when the pain receded to a dull background ache, and she struggled to her feet... and immediately hit her head on the low ceiling of the (cell?) the enemy had thrown her into.

        She remembered how the battle had ended -- how Fenric and Shein had dealt out several severe blows before being overwhelmed... how three of their foes had surrounded her, and struck as one. And between then and now... that they'd been moved was undeniable -- and a distant rhythmic rumble told her that she was now onboard a ship... perhaps even the ship that had driven off the *Shard*?

        And then, all of a sudden, a blast of light emerged from the darkness -- and Courtney involuntarily sank to her knees while shielding her eyes from the blinding glare. "Who are you?" she cried out. "Why are you..."

        "Doing this?" a sinister whisper came from beyond the light. "You will learn the answer to that question soon enough, human... or die. One way or the other, our purpose here will have been achieved. For now, however... I will be the one asking the questions."

        And then, even before Courtney could say a word, the glaring light began to flicker... and consciousness faded.

* * *

Elsewhere, other questions were being asked, and answers given.

* * *

        "How long until they arrive?"

        "Twenty minutes less than the last time you asked." Klairika told her captain. "You should get some rest."

        Julia shook her head, while trying not to yawn. "Not until this is over... one way or the other."

* * *

"How long until we get there?"

"Thirty minutes less than the last time you asked." John Matheson told his captain. "And sir... if you don't mind me asking, are you going to stop pacing any time soon?"

* * *

"Are they ready, I wonder?" This time, it was Galen asking the question... and even though neither of the humans the question referred to were present, the technomage knew the question was about to be answered, whether they were ready or not.

Whether the universe was ready to suffer the consequences of what was to come was another question entirely, of course.

* * *

To be continued...

* * *

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