There is a moment in every life when one may step over the line that should never be crossed. There is a moment in every situation where a decision is made that may affect thousands. And last of all, there is a moment in every battle where it is possible to shame one's enemy instead of humbling him. My people and my caste have known the meaning of these three sentences for over a thousand years, now -- and it is equally clear that the humans, and John Sheridan in particular, do not understand these concepts nearly as clearly as they believe they do.
A case in point -- a quarter of a human year has now passed since the Drakh poisoned the peoples and creatures of Earth, and in that time period, the crew of the Interstellar Alliance warship named EXCALIBUR, a warship commanded by a human explorer and gambler named Matthew Gideon, have begun the admittedly difficult task of locating a cure to the plague that afflicts his people. Gideon is a warrior, just as I am... and as such, I have no objection to the way the Earthers have decided the hunt for the plague cure should be conducted -- it is an epic task, fit for a warrior, and if all goes well, Gideon may yet succeed in his mission. This choice that Sheridan made, I must accept it as necessary -- for even I, a warrior who fought against his people in our Holy War of retribution, would not be able to accept the death of my entire race.
The other choice that Sheridan made after the battle for Earth is one I cannot accept, however -- and yet again, Delenn chose to betray her own kind and hand *our* creation over to the Anla'shok -- no, let me be more specific -- into the hands of that Vorlon-touched *changeling* that Sheridan chose to raise to command rank... over my objections, I might add. I was ignored, as Rahkeel was ignored, and now, the time has come to begin implementing the plan that will... rectify this matter to our satisfaction. Sheridan has stepped over the line he should not have crossed. In giving the human changeling Tikopai command of *Vi'dalae An'shaka*, he has made a decision that will affect thousands, and in due course, doom the lives of her and her crew.
While in shaming her sister, Val'na Lanniel of the Storm Dancer Clan has given me a living weapon to use in the shadow war against those humans who *dare* to name themselves ANLA'SHOK. A living weapon named...
Tirivail.
* * *
Refuge Bazalshieon of the Storm Dancer Clan. April 7th, 2267, human reckoning.
The moons were bright tonight -- and even though that was the case, the stars beyond shone brighter still... stars that had been denied to her ever since her fateful duel with Lanniel inside the Refuge, so many days before. Tirivail slowly clenched her hand into a fist, the anger still burning brightly, even after this much passed time. Over her father's objections, Miyonn and a majority of the Council had forbidden her return to the *Shekann*, citing 'personal issues', 'clouding of judgement', and worst of her, in her opinion, 'a notable drift from the Way'. The only Warrior Caste Minbari with the authority to overrule their decision was the Shai Alyt, and he had not, as yet, chosen to do so.
The Shai Alyt. Tirivail smiled then, her anger momentarily forgotten. There were so very few warriors close to their leader -- even now, he kept his own council more often then not -- especially since *Sheridan's* partner, the thrice-cursed Delenn, had taken away Alyt Rahkeel's command and given it into the hands of the Anla'shok. She had often thought it would be interesting to find a way to gain his ear -- there were many things she would tell him, given that opportunity, and not all would be pleasant. The battlecruiser project had originally been sponsored by him, of course, as well as a number of other prominent Warrior Caste Minbari -- and they had not been careful enough to keep it secret. And look what the result had been...
"Tirivail." She stiffened then, and turned on one leg to see D'hal Takier, her father and Warmaster of the Clan, standing in the crystal-lined, blue-lit portal that lead off of the battlements and into the Refuge interior. "This watching and brooding does not become you. You a warrior, the greatest of your generation in the Clan -- stand alone too much, however, and the need for revenge that burns within you will twist that greatness and cause your downfall."
"But what choice do I have, father?" she replied, her tone of voice pleasant and yet bitter to the ear in the same instant. "The faction of the clan loyal to your aims and ideals is much reduced in strength since the farce of a council that caused Rakheel's fall from grace. The *moderates* lead by Miyonn hold power for the time being -- and they have banned me from walking among the stars, my true element! It is intolerable, but there is nothing - I - can - do."
"While logical and full of known truths," her father smugly informed her, "Your statement is incorrect, I am afraid."
"What?" she exclaimed, hope suddenly rising within. "Do you mean to say..."
"I do, indeed." Takier smiled an unpleasant smile, as he drew his robes closer about him as protection against the frosty night air. "It is my duty to inform you, daughter, that Shai Alyt Kozorr himself has summoned you and Alyt Rahkeel to Yedor for... consultations. He instructs you to obey this request, with all possible speed."
"And Miyonn?"
Takier's smile grew thinner. "He is... displeased, shall we say, but that is nothing new for him, especially when *I* win an engagement in our ongoing war of words. Now go, my daughter!... the Shai Alyt awaits."
"I go, my father!" Tirivail replied, as she passed her father to enter the Refuge, almost at a run. It was unbelievable, but true at the same time -- could the Shai Alyt possibly have sensed her *need* to speak to him, her need to correct the wrong done to her by her own sister?
She smiled, and then laughed a laugh of triumph. No, not possible, of course -- but it was an *interesting* proposition, to be sure.
* * *
ISAS SHARD OF NIGHT, on patrol in Sector 717 by 14 by 49. 10:31 hrs, E.S.T.
"Have you noticed," the Minbari engineer named Lesaki noted, "How quiet it has been aboard this vessel just lately?"
Nicholas Dawson ground his teeth with no small irritation, before turning away from his contemplation of the SHARD's well-running power plants towards his assistant. "Lesaki, are you trying to tempt fate, or what? It's only been a month since our esteemed captain fell through into a parallel reality and barely returned with her sanity intact, and you're complaining about our voyage not being exciting? Once in a while, it's nice to have a holiday from all the chaos and excitement that seems..."
"To follow her around?" the Minbari wryly concluded. "Your point is valid, sir... and yet, what I noted earlier still applies. Since it *has* been quiet for so long, and since the EXCALIBUR's crew haven't managed to get themselves into trouble just lately, perhaps we are overdue for..."
<chime> Nicholas turned, and laughed a bitter laugh at what he saw. "What did I tell you? Lesaki, you're not *supposed* to tempt fate like that."
"Am I interrupting something, Mr. Dawson?" his captain inquired from out of the just-appeared hologram hovering above his primary consoles.
"Not at all, Captain..." he replied. "And what can I do for you *this* fine morning?"
"Actually, Mr. Dawson, what I can do for *you* is the more important consideration, this time around." Nicholas frowned -- was that *pain* he saw in her eyes? "We've just received a communique from Earth for you, and after discussing the matter with President Sheridan, I've decided that it's probably best if you accepted this message where no one can disturb you."
Nicholas blinked, as he suddenly found himself fighting off the fear that had resided in the back of his mind ever since the Drakh had poisoned the peoples and creatures of Earth with their damned nanoplague -- and his whole family, for good measure. "What exactly are trying to say, Captain?"
"I'm not trying to say anything... Nicholas. What needs to be said isn't for me to say, but for the message bearer. Once you've heard his words, we'll talk again... but not before."
He took a deep breath -- it couldn't be what he thought it was -- it just *couldn't* be. "I understand, Captain." And with that said, he turned away from her face, turned away from his suddenly solemn assistant, and walked into his office. "Computer, establish communications link with Earth source."
"*Accepted*." And with that, the image of a face sprang onto the screen, a face carved by time and now by sadness -- and the face was one he knew -- for it was the face of his father.
"Dad. How... how are you doing?"
"I've been better, Nicholas -- actually, let me rephrase that... I feel better now that I'm talking to you, actually. It took me longer then I thought it would to get a hold of you... where the Hell are you, anyways?"
"I'd love to be able to tell you that, Dad... but for the moment, I just can't." He paused, then, to gather his thoughts, and finally added, "Though I suppose I *can* tell you that my mission involves searching for the cure to the plague that the Drakh sprayed into the Earth's atmosphere. The plague..." He looked down, then.
His father nodded grimly. "I thought as much. And while I admire your decision, Nicholas, and understand the reasons for the secrecy, I'm afraid there's something I have to tell you now...something that will hurt you more then anything has hurt you before."
"Who's died?" he forced out, not wanting to hear the words, but knowing he could have no choice in the matter, and still stay sane.
"She hasn't died yet, Nicholas, but the doctors say she's one of the few to suffer a plague side-effect in the short-term..."
"She *who*?" he all but bellowed.
A wince. "I didn't want to tell you this, but I guess I have to. It's your eldest sister, Nicholas. She's sick now, and getting worse.
And they're not sure how much time she has left."
* * *
[Cue Dramatic Music]
KLAIRIKA ALIDIAE
We are the Watchers...
[Klairika standing on the bridge of the SHARD OF NIGHT, an image of the EXCALIBUR hanging in the air in front of her.]
SHEYNELL KEYNES
We are the Warriors.
[Images: Sheynell at the tactical station, the battlecruiser firing its main gun and destroying a Drakh capital ship]
LARIEKEN
We are the Guardians...
[Image: Larieken defending his Captain against Z'shailyl attackers, warrior pike in hand]
VEYSHAHK
We are the Healers.
[Image: Veyshahk at his desk in MedSection, an image of the Drakh virus on his computer screen.]
DASOURI and NICHOLAS DAWSON
We are the exiles...
[Image: Nicholas in Engineering, Dasouri at the helm of the SHARD]
JULIA TIKOPAI
And I am the Seeker.
[Image: Julia's face, lit by candles, the stars of the Galaxy beyond]
KLAIRIKA ALIDIAE
We are the Rangers of the SHARD OF NIGHT, in this, the Earth Year 2267.
[Image: The SHARD OF NIGHT enters, from the left...]
JULIA TIKOPAI
This is our story.
[... before engaging darklight mode, and going into hyperspace.]
S T A R A N D C I R C L E
"T H E S E E K E R' S F I R E"
STAR AND CIRCLE created by
David Goldingay <dgolding@connect.ab.ca>
Legal Disclaimer:
BABYLON 5, CRUSADE and all characters and situations thereof are the creations and copyrighted property of J. Michael Straczynski and Babylonian Productions. This series is a non-profit creation for the purposes of private entertainment only. Original characters and situations are copyright of the author, 1997-99.
* * *
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