Title: Crystalization
Notes: direct sequel to Hypocracy Now, prequel to Roamers.
note: remember “we are all Kosh” ? remember King Arthur?
note: recall, when Londo was telling them that Cartagia was dead, the red-haired Centauri man..?
italics are thoughts.
~~~~
Shadow Base, Selini, Centauri Prime:
The massive vessel, larger than three Shadow gunboats, lifted off from the ground. Its occupants barely felt the change from still to moving. And two occupants in particular simply didn’t care.
This had been the final Shadow vehicle remaining on Selini, on the entire planet, and it left too.
The transport made all available speed towards its destination: Babylon Five.
~~~
Zha’ha’dum:
Cartagia looked out over the abyss, feeling more than a little dizzy at just how far down the bottom was. In fact, he couldn’t see it.
“Are you certain that this is what you want?” asked the Human named Justin.
“Yes,” Cartagia answered, gathering his confidence to make the jump. “It is down there, you say?”
“Yes,” Justin replied with the tone of one who was tired of watching things go to waste.
But, to Cartagia’s mind, he would not go to waste! No, Mollari’s words rang true: ‘If what you say is true, majesty, then it is the Vorlons who are more powerfull, since the Shadows must wait for them to arrive before you can be elevated to godhood. However, I have spoken with Mr. Morden, and he tells me that there is one person -- far stronger than even a Vorlon armada -- and that he rests within the belly of Zha’ha’dum itself.’
“To my ascention!” Cartagia yelled, pushing himself off the edge, into the depths. He would be a god yet!
~~~
Council Chambers, Babylon Five, Two Days Later:
“So doc, you think you can do anything?”
“Garibaldi, I’m not sure anything *can* be done. I mean I wouldn’t know where to start cutting the - the cucoons, much less with what; and -”
Garibaldi’s link beeped. “Yeah?”
“Chief, there’s a Shadow vessel outside, it appeared just now....it’s bigger than the station by at least three times. Orders? Wait, there’s something coming out of it -- a shuttlecraft, and it’s asking to dock.”
Looking around, Garibaldi didn’t see how things could get worse than this. “Let’em in, and keep an armed escort on whoever it it -- I don’t care if it’s the Black Knight himself!”
~~~
In Mind-Space:
Lyta looked around her. This was almost familiar territory for her, a sub-universe where the mental energies of a person could manipulate anything. Few beings who were not of the Vorlons, Shadows, or First Ones could access it well enough to do anything.
The blackness all around her gradually took shape as John Sheridan and Delenn arrived...no, make that two Delenns, one of whom looked tired and sad. Blackness faded around their feet, becoming a rocky landscape devoid of any sort of life - other than them. Tiny star-specks appeared in the sky.
Some specks darkened, moving towards a central point. When they congealed, they formed a Human silhouette -- which colored into Zack.
Susan Ivanova faded into sight -- Lyta recognized a First One signature.
“We are all here,” said a voice familiar to her somehow. Entering through the shadows of mindspace, Morden appeared. “And a nice choice of setting to whoever picked it,” casually looking at his surroundings. Beside him was the familiar insectile form the Shadows used when they chose to be visible.
“This’s the Moon,” Sheridan identified. “We’re in orbit around Earth!” Part of him was happy to be this close to his homeworld, part of him didn’t want to be here.
“It may be, or it might simply be your mind’s eye,” answered the First One through Susan’s mouth. “The fact that it is is all you need concern you for now. Now, let us talk.” As John was about to find out, he could still understand what the older three races were saying to him and the others.
~~~
Council Chambers, Babylon Five:
“I just checked all the old books,” G’kar said upon entering, “as you requested, Mr. Garibaldi. But regretfully, there is nothing in them which covers an event remotely like this. I am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Garibaldi told him, “You tried.”
“Sir, what do we do?” Corwin asked; this was only his second visit to the room.
“I really don’t know. I know, I know; we’ve got a couple dozen League World ships, three Vorlon ships, two Shadow vessels, and what we’re hoping are First One craft orbiting Babylon Five. I know that.....and I haven’t a clue what to do.
“We’re sitting on a powder keg. And we probably can’t even see the match.”
~~~
The Moon/Mindspace:
How much longer? Sheridan was tiring, as were most of the other Humans in attendance. Part of him felt like months, even years had gone by while he was in here; and another part insisted that it’d been but seconds, minutes at most.
“SHERIDAN!” shouted one of the Delenns. John looked up. “Answer the question.”
“I repeat,” Susan/First One said over, “Man of Earth, he who speaks for his entire species, what will you give up for the sake of this peace? What worlds, what territories?”
Calculations and statistics flew up in Sheridan’s mind unbidden. Lowest population sites were also the most economically important. Depending on how I choose, Humanity might well survive, but be beggared. “Orions 3 and 4,” he answered clearly. Mining worlds.
A nod from Zack. “Humans do not command the vast resources of either Creator People,” whom all in attendance somehow understood to be the Vorlons, Shadows, and First Ones. “Such a sacrifice of resources shows some character, as well as a sense for preservation.”
The Vorlons made -- or at least enhanced the telepaths, John knew. But what did the other two groups do to be classed as Creators?
The stars in the sky all around them shifted their positions, making a shape that took a number of seconds to recognize: it was an image of a galaxy, just like on a tactical map. Only this galaxy had them within it, standing in the ‘void’ between ‘stars.’ Then the stars grew closer and closer.....
The image of the galaxy, shrunken to a man-length, became bisected into three sections. “East and West,” the opposing sides glowing a different color, “are for the Vorlons and Shadows -- each of which may choose only one side to dwell upon.” The wasp-waisted line running down the center began to glow a third color. “Babylon Alliance territory,” the First One explained.
“They are young still,” objected Kosh. “Irresponsible!”
“We understand your logic,” crooned the Shadow. “Grant them a taste of the stresses we experienced, in teaching the younger races. Tactically sound idea.”
“And will you state your demands as well?” asked the Delenn whom Sheridan suspected was a Vorlon in disguise. “Or will you simply pass your turn, your chance?”
“On the contrary,” the Shadow answered, once more using a voice just like John’s father, “we wish for a blending of your weapon with our counter-agent. We are willing to wait ten years for it, no more than that.” Are they speaking my language, or is it all being translated in my head somehow?
Though Lyta and Zack both looked alarmed, the Delenn/Kosh replied without hesitation, voice calm. “To that, I agree.”
“And your request to the Humans?” asked Susan.
“We have taken what we want, what we need from them. Anything more would bring waste, and that is neither wanted nor needed.”
“Vorlons?”
“Our demand is simple,” Kosh told them. “Force him to return Kosh.”
“Ahh, but as you yourself said, Ambassador,” John Sheridan replied, “ ‘we are all kosh.’ So, my that reasoning, you’re asking me to release the entire Vorlon Empire from me.......and I’d never controlled your empire.”
“A dangerous game you play,” echoed from space, one of the half-seen ghosts told him. “Things you know are not always. Things you think might be.”
“There will be consequences if you fail to return Kosh to the Vorlons!” Kosh told them.
“Are you prepared to agree to that?” asked the body of Susan’s papa, asked the mediating First One. John nodded. “Then you may have Kosh kept within you. But remember, at any time, should you choose to, you may return him to his people.”
“I understand,” Sheridan answered.
~~~
Royal Courtyards, Centauri Prime:
Cartagia is dead, Londo thought aloud, silently willing the Vorlons to leave. But the vast ships, which had become more than specks a few minutes ago, were not turning around. “What more do they want?”
The answer hit Vir like a sack of building material: “Londo, not everything of the Shadows is gone from here,” with a note of alarm in his voice.
“What?” Londo asked, ready to do away with anything, in order to save his world. He met Vir’s eyes, and realized what he meant. It must be done, he resolved, I am a man of my word! “Quickly, find that knife!” A knife, an edged stone, a loose wire or piece of frame on a building!
The light seemed to grow brighter, making even the shadows pale. Both Centauri men looked up, seeing an unnatural point of light eminating from one of the larger Vorlon ships. Great Maker, a planet-killer.
“We’re too late,” Vir said, a bit of personal despair entering his voice. Both of them closed their eyes, bracing themselves for the death that was to come.
A few seconds later, each opened their eyes slowly, cautiously. The point of light was gone. “They’re leaving!” Vir cried out. “They’re leaving?” he asked soon after, his curiousity scaring even him. What had happened? Why are they turning around?
~~~
The Moon:
“Then it is settled,” Susan/First One proclaimed, the First One self-security melding with the Ivanova near-arrogance. “All borders have been agreed-upon, and all terms decided. Each of you will provide ambassadors to prevent further wars.”
“Regional conflicts, from continental to two-solar-systems, seem in the nature of nearly all intelligent life,” the Delenn/Vorlon stated. “Are you forbidding even them?”
“No, such things are tolerable -- but do not allow them to fester and grow, lest you loose that space, that race.”
~~~
Council Chambers, Babylon Five:
“Look, I’m telling you that - as of at least five minutes ago - you all know just as much as me,” Garibaldi told the cluster of delegates from the Leage who were back and asking yet more questions, pumping him for information. There was only so long that we could keep it a secret. I wonder how long it’ll take the rest of the galaxy to find out now that these nice folks know.
The group flinched back, though not at anything the Security man had done. “It’s moving!” the Drazi Ambassador said, stating the obvious, pointing towards the gold cucoon and the brown one; each of them were extending a small tendril of energy towards the other.
A brief touch, with a faint glow appearing, then vanishing.....and they parted, returning to themselves.
Not even a minute after that, the cucoons vanished: Morden, Sheridan, Delenn, Lyta, Zack....and -- according to the voice over his link -- the White Star and Ivanova within there.
~~~
Corridor, Babylon Five, many minutes later:
John Sheridan was -- to use an old word -- pooped. Tired. The League members had demanded information from them all. The Vorlon and Shadow had taken the easy way out: converting to energy, and returning to their ships, leaving the poor flesh beings to explain what had transpired to a collection of irate beings.
In a way, everything had crystalized: the territories, the deals, everything. With the exception of the League -- so far! The idea of space having been divided certainly appealed to them, though they were ticked-off that *they* hadn’t been consulted.
Then Sheridan saw someone ahead, and jogged to catch up. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.....
“You mind if I ask you a personal question?” Sheridan asked Morden, once he’d caught up.
“Go ahead, though I may not have an answer for you.”
“Oh, I think you might. Why are *you* working for the Shadows? Were you in one of their ships too?”
“No, I wasn’t. With me, it’s more a matter of repaying a debt.” Off Sheridan’s wondering look, “Tell me, are you familiar with Middle Earth Disease?” Sheridan nodded, it was a pretty rare mental illness -- only Humans and Narns had it -- but one of Anna’s old archeological theories held that other - extinct - races also had Middle Earth Disease. “My wife has it. The - Shadows,” using one name for them, “are helping treat her; so in exchange, I deliver messages for them.”
Middle Earth Disease, believed to have a connection with telepathy, since they’d both appeared a hundred years ago. Named for the intricately-created fictional universe created well over two-and-a-half centuries ago, it bore a resembalance to classic autism -- the patient largely unresponsive to the outside world, engrossed in a world of their own creation, deep within their heads.
And speaking of Anna.....
“Would you excuse me?” Sheridan asked. I have to go make a call.
Morden nodded. Sheridan left.
~~~
Shadow Base, Seleni, Centauri Prime, Shadow Territory:
Justin was talking with a man over a holo-image; the technology had been provided by the Shadows. The head of the man Justin was conversing with, it was so lifelike and real-looking.
“I’ll be glad to be rid of these Centauri clothes,” the man with a British accent said to Justin. “They itch so much.”
“Remember, you did say you wanted to blend into any society,” Justin reminded, to which Brit nodded, remembering well. “Are you ready for your next posting?”
“Of course,” answered Brit. “Location and target?”
“Babylon Five, and you’ll be an ambassador. But be sure to keep a close watch on Delenn.”
“Understood. Signing off.”
“Happy hunting, Byron.”
~~~
Sheridan Quarters, Babylon Five:
John finished his explanation to Anna. Granted that it’s what dad always called a ‘readers digest version,’ whatever that is. But at least all of what I tell her is the truth. “Anna?”
“It’s okay, John. I waited those years for you, I guess a month or two more won’t kill me. Besides, the natives here are friendly, even helping me study the local ruins.”
“I’ll be out as soon as things settle down,” John promised. And I have to hope that I’m not made a liar.
~~~
Bridge, White Star:
“You okay?” Marcus asked Susan, who’d been simply staring out into now-empty space.....
And she’d been like that for over an hour. He decided to take a chance: he put his hand on her shoulder. “Huhm?” she asked, startled. Marcus repeated the question. “Yeah, fine.”
“You’re not going to smite me for my daring?” Marcus asked humorously.
Ivanova turned her head, letting his eyes meet her greatly-aged eyes, flecks of unknown colors within them. “I’m not a god, Marcus, not by a long shot.” Her lips drew upwards. “Not yet,” part of her joking. But after having tasted the solar winds like that, can I ever be content within a station, much less on a planet? For better or worse, I’m a wanderer now.
Perhaps forever.
~~~
Rock Bottom, The Pit, Zha’ha’dum:
“Do you mind if I share your fire?” asked Lorien to this huddled stranger.....
A stranger who looked up and made a face. “What fire, you old fool? Nothing down here works, there are no conveniences, no tools, not even a gun to spark a flame. But go ahead and sit, I won’t stop you.”
Lorien crouched down, one hand each clasping a stone, struck them together. A fire quickly grew from that little ember. The stranger’s face became astonished, then wondering.
Lorien repressed a grimace. This one would do well, if begin rather harsh and unpolite.
~~~~~~~
END.
(email to Rolox@hotmail.com)
to be continued . . .