"STAR AND CIRCLE: THE SEEKER'S FIRE"
EPISODE TWELVE: "WHAT LIES HIDDEN"

        (disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture)

* * *

        <<ACT TWO>

        Upon their emergence from the ancient building that had been their prison for so very long, the Craneori were dismayed to sense how badly entropy had affected Ilvar`inon, the greatest abode their makers had ever built. They had counted the passing of time with ease within their prison -- but it now appeared as if their count had been... somewhat inaccurate. How much time had really passed? -- and was the war between the Dark Enemy and their Creator's bright-allies still going on? Now that *was* the question, wasn't it...

        The thought-processes of the Craneori froze in shock at that point, however, as those of their collective who had been chosen to enter the body of the primitive who had freed them began relaying the memories of that creature -- no, even though their need was great, it appeared as if they would now have to treat these... lifeforms with somewhat greater respect. This member of that species, who named themselves 'humans', thought of himself as an 'archeologist' -- like the Creator's Shei'nar Order, they were -- human-members who hunted through ruins searching for ancient artifacts.

        It now seemed clear that a *great* deal of time had passed -- and as the sifting continued, the Craneori also learned that a human-member named 'Sheridan' had been responsible for banishing both the Dark Enemy and the Bright-Allies beyond the galactic Rim in the very recent past... and that races of their vintage now ruled the galaxy. Races that had been... but *animals* when the Creator's empire had stood at its height.

        This, however, did not change the Craneori's intent -- above all other things, now that the wars appeared to be over, now that their original purpose had become irrevelant -- despite their anger, they desired a reunion with their creators. They needed a ship -- and once acquired, it would be necessary to travel to an explorer-portal, a handful of which the Creators had built during the height of their power -- one of which they had used during their departure beyond the Rim. The Dark servants who had brought them here had implied, of course, that all such portals had been destroyed in the war -- the Craneori, however, had not believed that to be true -- the portals had been capable of concealing themselves from the dark-enemy -- and now, they were probably the only ones who remembered how to activate them. If any still existed, that was.

        For now, though, there were other concerns to address. Their movements sure, the Craneori compared their memories of Ilvar`inon as it had been to the broken shell that remained -- and after a time, they moved into three k'lsai-- the worldwide network of defense towers that had kept the world safe during the ancient war -- and applied their energies to reactivating the long-dormant systems. After a time, the kernel-of-life that still remained in each tower responded to their efforts -- and flowered forth, a echo of what once had been.

        Even if only for a little while. This accomplished, certain members of the collective then ascended away from the world towards the darkness-above -- for when a ship arrived to help the humans, the Craneori would be waiting to close their trap.

* * *

        Trent and Moreau didn't waste any time getting off of the spire -- even as two of their colleagues carefully lowered the man who'd been injured in the crystal core down to the surface, where their crew chief, Gerald McCaffrey, waited, his face grim. "What the Hell happened in there?" the grizzled ex-flight engineer growled. "And do I even want to know?"

        "We found... this room full of crystals," Moreau explained between breaths, "Containing some sort of ancient's power source, as near as we could figure out -- which was when said crystals attacked and injured Mechain -- then Pieke bounced a plasma round off of the crystal in question..."

        "Which rolled off its pedestal, fell to the floor, and *broke*, all right?" Trent impatiently interrupted. "And I'm sorry, Renly, but I don't think 'power source' is entirely accurate -- *something* escaped from that crystal, something... intelligent -- and even though Pieke managed to grab the rest of them and get them out of the tower without breaking them..."

        "You let something out... but you still brought the rest of the crystals out with you? Doc, are you nuts?"

        "No, damnit, I'm not!" Trent exploded, her face darkening towards anger. "And kindly remember, Mr. McCaffrey, who is paying your wages -- and also who is in charge of this expedition?"

        "Yeah, yeah..." McCaffrey grumbled, as the team ran across the broad octagonal 'square' below the tower towards their ship. "Now can we get off this planet before anything else...happens..."

        Which was, of course, when something *did* -- as the ground beneath their feet began to vibrate madly -- and three violet, decidedly menacing tendrils began to extrude from the ruins on the edge of the square. Tendrils which immediately began to point in the direction of the now petrified archeologists... as well as their ship.

        "Oh Hell, no!" Moreau shouted, "Not the..."

        Brilliant green slices of light emerged from two of the tendrils -- projections which were, to no great surprise, a weapons system of some sort -- and Trent watched with detached dismay as her ship vanished into a fireball. At which point the third weapons tower fired -- the whole team got the hint at that point, as they ran for cover. Cover obligely provided in the form of an enormous circular depression in the heart of the square.

        It wasn't fair -- twice now, she'd come *this* close to greatness -- and both times, the missions had ended in disaster. And now... "Renly," Trent shouted, "Can you get a signal to the satellite we left in orbit?"

        Moreau crawled over to her, even as green fire continued to trace the air above him. "We won't know until we try, now will we?" he muttered, as he pulled the transmitter out of his pack.

* * *

        White Star 101 -- enroute to Babylon 5 -- hyperspace. 10:13 hrs, July 30th, 2267.

        "Damnit, here we are, late to the table again." Miranda Feist muttered, as she paced back and forth across the bridge of the ship that had been hers to command for almost two years, now. "Another false lead, another ancient, deserted ruin -- and now we're going to miss the commander's conference..."

        "And if this lead had not been a false one?" her first, Merell, pointed out. "If the cure to the plague had been there, and we had not gone... what then?"

        Feist turned to glare at the Minbari -- but then her expression softened as she retired to the captain's chair to gaze pensively out the bridge windows at the red wrack of hyperspace beyond. "What I was about to say..."

        "...was that a little sympathy would be nice once in a while..."

        Feist laughed, before nodding ruefully. "But you're right of course, Merell. I just wish this search wasn't so hard on all of us. Just once, can't we make a *little* more progress?..."

        "Hold." Merell's expression went from companionable to alert as one of the crystals on his board began to softly chime. "We are picking up a distress signal, long range, bounced off at least three or four gates -- the ident-code is ISA in nature."

        "On speakers." Feist ordered.

        "...th...Dr. Elizabeth Trent... Neilgeitha IV. We are pinned down, under attack by... neutron cannon defense network activated by unknown force... we've disturbed something here. If anyone can here us, we need help..." the message abruptly dissolved into white noise.

        "How far?" Feist asked.

        "Less than an hour from our present location at maximum speed," Merell replied, "And over ninety degrees off of our present heading -- if we divert now, Val'na -- we will most assuredly not reach the rest of the Rangers at Babylon 5 before they once again disperse."

        "An ISA-sponsored expedition is under attack by something out there, Merell," Feist shot back, her voice now steady and sure, "And we can't just abandon them to whatever the Hell's trying to kill them, be it AI-controlled... or sentient. We're Rangers, this is the sort of thing we've been trained for. Stand by to change course -- and see if you can't get me Sha'vei Pratchett at Babylon 5."

        Merell nodded. "As you say. Changing course now."

* * *

        The Central Corridor, Babylon 5 -- 10:22 hrs, EST.

        Veyshahk paused at a crossroads as he emerged from the latest building-cluster his path-of-travel had taken him through in the past few minutes -- ahead of him a long, shallow lake awaited, rimmed in stone and bisected by one of the tramlines that ran throughout the station's interior -- and just to spinward a massive 'stalk' rose up towards the low-grav spine of the core shuttle -- but enough. He sighed, strode quickly to the edge of the lake, and sat down on the rim -- even though the return trip to the compound was still a pressing issue, running away from this confrontation would do no good... for if it was who he thought it was...

        "Veyshahk -- you disappoint me. Aren't you even going to make this pursuit an interesting one for us?" The physician rose to his feet and turned to face the speaker... and then nodded regretfully. The child he had known was now an adult, but the black anger in Kirash's eyes -- that had not changed in the slightest.

        "And what would be the point of that?" he replied. "I am Anla'shok -- I have been taught not to flee from my pursuers, but to confront them -- to deal with the problem, learn from it, and then move on."

        Kirash turned his head, and nodded sharply -- and after a moment, five other warriors slipped into view around them, their hands close to their weapons. "Flee, you say?" the young warrior casually replied, as he strode forward to stand on the lakeside. "But was that not what you did, Moon Shield, when you left our family's service, to *become* Anla'shok?"

        "That is... a misrepresenation of the truth," Veyshahk carefully replied. "As well you know -- the investigation into the affair in question..."

        "Was mishandled!" Kirash snapped. "The Clan lei'vei may have found you innocent of any wrongdoing, Moon Shield, but do not presume to believe I have forgotten what it was you did... or did not do. I hold you personally responsible for what happened -- and now, you shall be made to pay for your crime."

        "There is *no* crime!" Veyshahk ground out, now very close to anger. "And do not call me 'Moon Shield' -- I am an *Anla'shok*."

        "Yes, I *shall* have to remember that now, won't I? In any case, the loss of my first-sister must be answered for. I blame you for that loss... I have always blamed you -- and now I have reached my maturity, I call you to shei-lannon denn'boknei... and since you insist that you are Anla'shok, who are of all castes and of none -- you must accept my challenge."

        Veyshahk's breath caught in his lungs -- the 'duel of fire-blades' had in the past only been fought between warriors -- for Kirash to take this step... was disturbing indeed, but now the challenge had been issued, he had to respond to it -- the ritual gave him no other option. Except... "This is neutral ground, Warrior -- and duels have been banned by the Grey Council in any case..."

        Kirash laughed scornfully. "The contest will not be to the death, Worker... do you think me foolish? You are trapped by tradition and ritual into this combat, Veyshahk -- win, and you shall walk away free. Lose, however..."

        The meaning was obvious -- lose, and Kirash would require that he return to Minbar to once again answer for his 'crimes' -- imagined or otherwise. And even *if* his innocence was proven (which would undoubtedly be the case, in his opinion) there was every chance the Warrior Caste would... arrange it so that he never left Minbar again. Veyshahk's mouth tightened -- this, of course, was intolerable. His place was among the Rangers of the 'Shard of Night' -- and he was not about to let this... he was not about to let Kirash take that away from him. "You will give me time to prepare for this duel, I assume?"

        "Of course." The last word twisted to mockery, of course -- Kirash bared his teeth. "You may have two standard days, plus the hours that remain until this place falls to the shadow -- then, meet me in this place, alone... and we will deal with this matter."

        "So be it."

        And thus was a fate sealed.

* * *

        The Ranger Compound -- the office of the Sha'vei. 10:37 EST.

        "I don't believe it!" Jamie muttered, as she read the message from Feist again. "Trent... again! Can't that woman do anything without getting into trouble?"

        Lanniel quickly strode over to her comrade's desk, read the message -- and at that point, the former Storm Dancer's brow furrowed with concern. "Dr. Elizabeth Trent -- the human who opened the gate into Thirdspace -- and now it appears as if she and her... team have woken something else up, out on the Rim. I find this disturbing, if not surprising. Ah, Feist and her command have gone to investigate?"

        "Damn straight -- and hopefully, one White Star will be enough to take care of... whatever it is that's attacking Trent and her people."

        "I fear, Jamie, that we will find out soon enough whether or not your 'hope' is an accurate one." the other Ranger observed.

* * *

        The Ranger Compound, main courtyard. 10:51 hrs, EST.

        She remembered another meeting that had happened in this place, more than four years before -- that time, G'Stral had been early, and she'd made sure not to be late. Julia stopped pacing, and checked the time, before glaring out and upwards at the vast greenspace of the Central Corridor, all around her. "Where *is* he?" she muttered.

* * *

        Neilgeitha Prime -- jumpout. 11:06 hrs, EST.

        "All right," Feist declared, as her command finished its transition from hyperspace, "Merell, are Dr. Trent and her team still down there?"

        There was a brief pause -- and then the Minbari Ranger nodded. "Indeed they are. The energy being expended by the ancient weapons installations is most noticable."

        "Show me." she commanded -- and then Feist's eyes widened as an image shimmered into being in front of her -- an image showing a broad octagonal square... the ruins of an Earth explorer vessel... and finally, the three weapons towers that were keeping the archeologists pinned down. "How soon until we can draw a bead on those things?"

        "Our range to target is still well over a hundred thousand kilometers," Merell replied. "It will take some time for us to move into range -- for now, however..."

        "Let's see if we can't get a hold of Trent and her friends." Feist agreed. "Primary comm channel?"

        "Is now tuned into the distress frequency."

        "All righty, then." Feist took a deep breath. "This is Captain Feist of White Star 101 to Trent Expedition -- do you receive..."

        "Oh, thank God!" a hoarse voice replied. "This is Renly Moreau, second in command of the expedition. You've arrived not a moment too soon, Captain -- those weapons towers are getting awfully close to flash-frying us -- think can you lend a hand?"

        "I think that can be..."

* * *

        In close proximity to the just arrived ship, the Craneori observed the craft they'd drawn into their trap -- and regretfully concluded that vessel, while quite advanced, was not large enough to carry them all to the planned meeting with the Creators. As such, the game was about to become, as they had feared... a little more complicated.

        And with that, they activated the concealed orbital platforms their makers had left behind them.

* * *

        "Arranged?" Feist's eyes widened as another chime suddenly sounded on the bridge of White Star 101 -- the sound that warned of *multiple* weapons systems beginning to acquire locks on her ship. "Son of a... Merell!"

        "Taking evasive action... now." Merell replied, his delivery now terse as space around White Star 101 began to fill with green fire. "We would appear to have fallen into a trap."

        "No... kidding." Feist managed, as the Minbari put her ship rapidly through a series of maneuvers that pushed the artificial gravity systems of the White Star to its limits. "Damn -- I sense a pattern developing here."

        "As do I." Merell agreed. "The intelligence behind the weapons is attempting to push us closer to the planet. There does, however, appear to be one spot in orbit where we will be safe -- the weapons platforms do not appear to be mobile, and since this world possesses a small satellite orbiting within the defense perimeter..."

        "The moon will shield us from the weapons fire... of course! Make for the shadow zone, best possible speed -- oh, and..."

        "Prepare to send another message to Babylon 5?" Merell wryly noted. "You do realize, of course, that it will take them more than two standard days to get here?"

        "We can wait that long, with the moon to shield us." she replied. "The AI's in charge of this place may have trapped us here, Merell -- but I think they're going to figure out they've captured a hot potato before too much more time has passed."

        "A hot... potato." Merell frowned.

        Feist smiled. "Okay, it's like this..."

* * *

        "Veyshahk!" Julia angrily exclaimed, as she crossed the courtyard to stand by the *Shard*'s physician even as the courtyard bustled with Rangers readying themselves for departure all around her. "Where have you been? We need to get back to the *Shard* and double-quick -- a crisis has come up, and..."

        "I fear," Veyshahk sharply interrupted, "That I will be unable to accompany you on this... mission, Val'na. Something, as you say, 'has come up.'"

        "What?"

        His face grave, Veyshahk indicated that they should retire to somewhere a little more private, and some moments later, once they'd retired to a now-unoccupied meditation area deeper in the complex, the phycician continued his tale. "During my progression through the Central Corridor, I encountered an individual from my past -- someone I never thought to see again. His name is Kirash, son of Teleri... and he is a member of the Star Riders Clan."

        "Teleri?" Julia's eyes widened. "But didn't you..."

        "Serve them before I became Anla'shok?" Veyshahk's lips quirked into a humorless smile. "That is the case, yes -- and now, Kirash has pursued me to this place. Even now, he cannot forget a mistake that was made, a long time ago -- a mistake that lead to one of my greatest failures. It was because of this that I left Teleri's service, to become Anla'shok."

        "Someone died, didn't they?" Julia managed. "And even though you tried, you couldn't save them."

        "Again, you remind me of the talent you possess." Veyshahk noted. "You observe correctly -- the individual in question was named Isheiin -- she was Teleri's eldest daughter, and very close to Kirash. You will forgive me if I do not go into great detail about this matter -- suffice it to say, she drowned, and I was unable to save her."

        "And even now, Kirash seeks someone to blame."

        Veyshahk nodded. "He has summoned me to shei-lannon denn'boknei -- when I was a Worker, I could not have conceived of answering that challenge..."

        "But now you're a Ranger, and have earned the right to wield a pike, as I have..."

        "I choose to answer his challenge -- for either I shall defeat him, in which case he will retire, never to trouble me again..."

        "Or you will lose, in which case Kirash will insist you return to Minbar with him." Julia quietly concluded. "I understand, Veyshahk -- but now, I must go -- the mission awaits, there are Rangers in trouble, out there -- they need our help."

        "If all goes as planned, I will waiting here when you return." Veyshahk assured her. And with that Julia sent a last quick smile in his direction, and rushed out of the chamber.

* * *

        The *Shard of Night* -- main bridge. 12:21 EST.

        "Veyshahk elected to remain on Babylon 5?" Klairika inquired with a frown, as the *Shard* whirled away from the Grid Epsilon jump beacon and raced off into hyperspace.

        Julia nodded. "Something came up. For now, though, we need to concentrate on the mission, as the Sha'vei has instructed. Something's trapped both an archeological team *and* one of our White Star's at Neilgeitha Prime -- and it's our job to help organize a breakout..."

* * *

        What no one realized, of course, was that the situation was not quite so simple as that -- because the Craneori, in all their multitude, were waiting at Neilgeitha Prime -- and their final target?

        Their final target would be within range, soon enough.

* * *

        To be continued...

* * *

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