(disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture)
* * *
<<ENVOI>>
A between place, and time.
"So. I will assume that matters proceeded as you had expected they would?"
The Praetor Questus inclined his head. "There were a number of... complications, but yes, this is so. The Sha'naktoweire and her followers arrived at the worlds of the R'kaht ahead of us... and while we erred on the matter of which of them would be responsible for the contact and most especially *how*, the contact did occur. And the R'kaht were, after a time, freed from their Whisperglass, and became lost to us."
"Unfortunate. But not unexpected." the reply came. "Now, the next phase of your great task must begin. I fear, soon enough, that the voice of rumour will reach even *her* ear, and the matter the Well has been warning us about will come to pass. It is inevitable. It will happen. Are you ready to do what you must, when that moment arrives?"
"I am, Primarch."
"Then, for now, I command you to watch the movements of the vessel the Minbari name 'Vi'dalae An'shaka', and the humans, 'Shard of Night'. The path it follows is a tortured and difficult one, and long, but follow that path you must, as well."
"I understand. And once the task is concluded?"
"Return to Cathedral, you shall." the Primarch Majestus et Conclavus allowed. "Another task awaits you."
"This is well."
The Primarch nodded. "Well, indeed."
And there it was that the conversation ended.
* * *
Feb 16th, 2267; mid-morning, Ship's Time.
"I should be very angry with you, you know," Julia remarked, as the grand majority of the SHARD OF NIGHT's senior crew ate their breakfast together, and waited for the stories to begin. "But from what I can see and what I've overheard, it doesn't look like I have that right."
"I'm not so sure." Sheynell replied, her eyes slightly downcast. "I did some pretty silly things down there, and even before we descended to the surface, as well. The R'kaht reached out to me the only way they could, via my telepathic abilities, and I thought that if I could reach out to them, if I was the *only* one who could talk to them because of those abilities, that they might be able to tell me how they defeated the plague."
"And," Larieken mused, "You would then have the opportunity to be the one responsible for curing the plague on Earth. This was important to you?"
"Yes!" Sheynell shot back, but then, the fervor faded. "You've no idea how important, how *good* the idea sounded, at the time. I've spent so much of my life searching for the approval of others, and I've been disappointed so many times. I trusted my first mentor, and then he went rogue, and in the end, I had to help hunt him down. I trusted Alfred Bester enough to echo him faultlessly, as you saw on Babylon 5, Julia... and in the end, even he betrayed my trust. I thought that if I could find the cure..."
"You could find the approval you have searching desperately for, for so very long." Klairika finished for her.
Sheynell ruefully nodded at that remark. "But yet again, I jumped before thinking about it, and yet again, it nearly got me killed. But surprisingly enough... I *think* I might have finally found what I've been looking for, at least a little!"
"Here it comes, boys and girls..." Dawson drawled.
"They couldn't help us find the cure to the plague... there wasn't enough time left for that. But *I* could help them. And in helping to free them, I received their approval, Julia... the approval of an entire race! Do you have any idea what this means to me?"
"I think so." Julia replied, after a long, long moment. "And while the powers-that-be probably aren't going to be very happy with us for losing a chance to cure the people of Earth, I think you've taken a very important step forward, Sheynell. A step away from the darkness of your past, and towards a brighter future. While the R'kaht have shown us, in their own way, that the plague *can* be cured, and even though their method wouldn't have worked for us even if we had been able to save the Whisperglass, that we can't give up hope."
"That much, at least, we can do in their memory," Dasouri gruffly finalized, as he raised his glass in salute, a pose the others soon adopted. "The way, they have showed us. Follow it, we must. In doing so, do we not honour their memory, and the sacrfice that was made?"
"I'll drink to that." Dawson said.
"So should we all, Mr. Dawson." Julia added. "So should we all."
Seven glasses clinked together at that point, and so the pact was sealed.
* * *
Much later...
"A gift, he said," Sheynell muttered, as she finished brushed her hair out. "A gift, from a race about to pass beyond the Veil, a race I released from their ancient prison. I wish he'd been just a *little* more specific."
Muffling a yawn, she reached for the light-toggle beside her bed as she lay down; unfortunately, she was so tired that she didn't *quite* manage to reach it before her head hit the pillow.