I'm a recent B5 convert, and have thought about writing a story. This is a Sinclair story--I always thought he knew more than he let on in WWE--but how much and how did he learn it, since I also noticed those Minbari who knew, were uncomfortable with the part he played in their history.
This story takes place around the time of the episode Ship of Tears. It does help to know of the events covered in To Dream in the City of Shadows by Katherine Drennon.
JMS, Warner Brothers own the characters and the B5 universe, I'm just visiting.
Sinclair pulled the brown hood tighter around his head to avoid being recognized. He'd been here for a year, yet the citizens of Tuzanor still were curious about him and who he was.
He had become less uncomfortable with their curiosity--but today he had a specific destination in mind. He wasn't into covert operations--he'd been trained as a fighter pilot and more recently had learned the niceties of diplomacy, but as Entil'zha he had become more adept at blending in. And the Minbari habit of wearing hooded cloaks helped. None the less, he stopped at a corner and surveyed his surroundings. There was no sign of anyone tailing him, perhaps this time he had slipped away without being noticed. He had to smile, Satai Rathenn would not be happy at his *disappearance.*
It was a research trip to a remote convent (for lack of a better word). He claimed to be researching Shadows and their last contact with the Minbari one thousand years earlier. He was puzzled by the half-truths told by the religious caste leaders when he sought further information about the events of that time--particularly Valen. He needed complete information to effectively train the Rangers for the upcoming war and that information was not forthcoming.
True, he had read the material given him--but he'd always known that something was missing. Recently the need to make this trip had seemed great, he just couldn't rationally explain why--even though he'd been planning to make it for almost a year.
He continued walking. He'd arranged for a flyer to be waiting for him outside of the city. He picked up his pace at the excitement of the moment, then reminded himself to blend in with the slower pace of the Minbari--he didn't need to be recognized now, just minutes from his goal.
The Sisters of Valeria. He mentally went through what information he had on this elite religious order. They had one of the oldest libraries on Minbar including documents from the last Shadow War. *Know thy Enemy.* They could teach the Rangers to fight...But it was hard to fight an enemy you did not understand. They knew little about Shadows. They used bio-technology and subterfuge. An interesting combination--but not enough to prepare an adequate offense, let alone a defense.
And then there were the stories about Valen...These intrigued him. And those who really knew about the great leader, would become close-mouthed when Jeffrey Sinclair asked more questions. This was enough to make any human curious. Plus there were the dreams. They'd become even more intense after Catherine's disappearance almost a year earlier. He'd never believed that one could foretell future events--but recently he had begun to wonder if there was more to his connection with the Minbari and even more particularly, Valen. Another Minbari not born of Minbari...
His flyer should be around the next block. From there it was a two hour trip into the mountains. He had told his staff that he would be away for several days on business--a half truth. And that he was not to be contacted for any reason except an emergency: like a Shadow invasion.
The last corner and he slowed. He sensed something and it worried him. He had been so careful about getting away...He froze at the sight of the Vorlon five feet in front of him. There was no where to go, so he stepped forward and greeted Kosh.
"You seek what you need to know...But you do not yet know what that is." Kosh started to turn, leaving Sinclair shaking his head. He wasn't surprised that the Vorlon knew what he was doing.
He froze as Kosh's last words made his way to him. "We shall not meet again in this future." Jeff glanced around quickly. The ambassador was gone.
#
#
The last part of the trip was quiet and lonely. He'd passed a number of Minbari earlier, but the mountains were remote and uninhabited. Not a good location for a breakdown, he thought as he guided the flyer around several large rocks. He slowed down and glanced at the map. He would need to leave the flyer in several kilometers and complete the trip on foot. He looked at the snow on the ground, glad he had brought warmer clothing with him.
He slowed down several times to take in the view from the mountains. This was not a sightseeing trip, but it was worth the time. The area reminded him of the mountains of Earth--and he felt a bit of melancholy. Recent events had made it impossible for him to return there. Earth Dome had forgotten about him--or preferred him out of the way, and for some reason he wanted it that way too. It didn't help that Minbar had sided with Babylon 5. To return to Earth now felt wrong. He wondered briefly about the station and his friends there. Garibaldi sent him a rare message. And he heard through the Rangers of events that transpired there. He missed the place--but not the political machinations that such a command invariably brought. The deal making and backstabbing of government were not his thing--he'd hated it even as he learned to participate.
He slowed more as he made a tight turn. According to his map, this was where he needed to start his hike. He found a place to leave the flyer. In the back was his gear. A warm coat, sleeping bag, food...
#
#
The Sisters of Valeria lived in a building carved into the mountain--well built with thick walls. He spent several minutes studying the building before he continued. Despite the gloves, the extra cloak, and several layers of clothing--he was cold. He hoped the building was heated and they wouldn't turn him out. Perhaps he should have made arrangements. No, he decided, that would have meant explaining why he wanted to come and being accompanied, or more likely having his request turned down.
He found the entrance and rang what looked like an old school bell, then waited. He didn't have to wait long. The door opened and a heavily cloaked form greeted him in a low, slow voice. He was ushered inside. The room was pleasantly warm, and he let the hood around his head fall back. The female who'd let him in gasped, then padded out of the small room quickly. There wasn't much to study, the walls were barren and plain, but he wasn't given much chance as the door opened again and another cloaked figure entered.
"Entil'zha, I have been expecting you. I am Sister Ralenn." She bowed slightly her hands clasped in front of her; he returned the greeting with a look of surprise that they knew who he was. She smiled at him. "Sister Nelar has prepared a place for you to stay." She again bowed and indicated he should follow her.
Jeff started to ask how she knew, but the woman shook her head. He wondered about his not so clandestine trip.
#
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He leaned back in the chair, the large hand-written manuscript lay open in front of him. He'd been correct in his supposition that he hadn't been told everything. While this book was a copy of a copy--it was originally by a leader of the warrior caste who had been a participant in the last Shadow war. Sinclair found the description of the battles particularly interesting--the apparent randomness of the attacks--he could discern no pattern, and neither had Paarl (the author). He knew about the battles--there was just more detail in this account.
He rubbed his eyes as he started to flip the page. He was curious why Rathenn and others hadn't wanted him to know this information. He smiled slightly, then froze.
It was only a sketch, poorly done--but there was no way in Hell he couldn't recognize the shape...
He barely took in the words, his mind reeling at the implication of this unknown station that had *magically* appeared at the time of Minbar's greatest need.
He sat there staring at the drawing. Babylon 4. He remembered the rift...
"Entil' Zha?" A soft voice asked him. "Is there a problem?"
He shook his head, but Ralenn approached him anyway. "You study our ancient history."
"What do you know about this?" He pointed to the picture.
"Only what is written." She looked at him strangely. "Valen brought the station at our greatest need. It is said that the Shadows would have won the war without him. This place means something to you?"
"No..." He wasn't sure he could explain what it was...Or sure he should. He couldn't believe it himself.
She obviously didn't believe him, but didn't query him further. "It is late Entil' zha."
"I know." There was no way he could sleep. This was too much. He closed his eyes to think, Ralenn didn't speak further, he barely heard her leave the room.
He opened his eyes and stared at the drawing. It was a coincidence--it had to be. It seemed surreal.
He then wondered who else knew. The Vorlons definitely did--they knew everything. Rathenn, Delenn...He just couldn't believe it--but it did explain why he'd been given half answers--they hadn't wanted him to know...
And now he did.
But was he interpreting the information correctly? Maybe there was another reason. He continued to read.
#
#
He woke with a stiff neck and very uncomfortable as he slowly realized he'd fallen asleep on the book he'd been reading. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the tiny script, then thumbed back to the now familiar page.
Damn, it hadn't been another dream.
He closed the book. Food, maybe a full stomach would help put the confusion in his mind in order.
Deep down he knew he was avoiding what he learned. He knew that the Grey Council had ended the war because they thought he contained part of Valen's soul...But to learn that he was actually Valen...
"No..." he mumbled as he stood. The soul business had been too much...This was catastrophic...
It was then that he realized just how the event would occur. The rift in Sector 14--the one where Catherine had disappeared. That would mean...Could mean...
"Stop it old man, don't start daydreaming." He pushed the chair under the table. He looked at the small pile of books. Food could wait--he had to know if he truly understood...Was it all true?
#
#
A thousand years was a long time--but what surprised him was just how little was known about Valen. The book of prophecies had been carefully copied over the centuries--he'd looked at several--but the original was long gone. The triluminary interested him. It was somehow able to recognize Valen...and more interesting Valen's descendants...
Which made one of the prophecies very interesting. The one where the triluminary would illuminate a new member of the Grey Council...
Delenn. The one prophesized to undergo a change. He almost laughed. It was a genealogist's nightmare.
No it wasn't, because it couldn't be true. He struggled to develop another theory that fit all the information.
He returned to his reading. He wasn't sure anymore what he was looking for; besides proof--but proof of what?
Much have I seen and known,-- cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honor'd of them all.
He read the paragraph four times before he recognized it--part of Ulysses by Tennyson. He stared at it, his mind blank at the realization. He was Valen. He wondered if he'd left himself other such messages.
"Entil'zha!!!" He turned quickly at the interruption. "I am sorry to disturb you, but Sister Ralenn thought you should know the Shadows have attacked Brakiri space." The hooded figure looked startled. So was he.
"Thank you, Sister Nelar." He stood. He wondered how much time he had as he prepared to leave.