**"Pride, they call it; the pride of innocence, the pride of thinking when you know best. I was drawn into the Fire almost by accident, and when my mother next saw me, I was thirteen years old, and already aged beyond my years. In the name of Valen, in the name of my commanders, I have been through the Fire, and the Darkness; I have seen things no one should ever have to see. And I have, saints preserve me, recorded EVERY last thing, because that's my job. I am the Follower, not known, not seen until the last, but when I was needed, there I was found.
...in most situations, it is possible to find the proverbial serpent, and ours was a man I would not have the opportunity to meet for several months to come, and then, luckily for me, only once more after that. The only thing that stopped Walther Gideon from moving was his reluctance to fatally harm those he had once called friends. Oppose them, he would, hinder their plans, but not kill them...not yet. As time went on, though, and I learnt the whole story, I decided that eventually the Shadows would corrupt him enough that he would no longer have any inhibitions on the matter...and a confrontation would come, a clash that either Walther or William would survive, but not both.
I was right, of course, and now, I wish I hadn't been, because the end result was enough to make even me weep."**
Julia Tikopai, from "Lies and Pain in the Circle of Nought" first published in the Earth Year 2271
* * *
**"The Three that follow the Three that lead, to see the fire, to taste the ire, to understand the last; to touch the Black, to see the lack, of hope within, the ice wherin, the heart that cries, the hope that dies, the Three that love survived."**
- The Book of the Observer, Verse 11:17
* * *
Nighthawk System, Loki Station: Apr 27th, 2260.
Lieutenant Carlson Dafoe was a man of Earth, or so he liked to believe. In any case, he definitely thought of himself as a Loyalist, and as such, since President Clark had declared the state of martial law several weeks before, the question had become moot. The rebels had been defeated with ease, and sooner or later, the Fleet would track them down. Rumour had it that several colonies still resisted, but that would come to an end, eventually, as well. And because of all that had happened, trust was gone, now, and as such, two weeks before, Earthforce had established another station in this frontier system, to guard and watch the refineries in Loki's upper atmosphere. He, a junior grade lieutenant and ten non-com's, to watch and report back to Nightwatch central at the colony itself...more then sufficient.
And, since they'd discovered a small batch of Quantium-40 on Loki II the month before, things were definitely looking up for Nighthawk...but it was still a backward corner on the edge of nowhere, so why worry??
A thin chime rang through the small observation dome, and Dafoe looked up, half in boredom, to see the familiar blue iris spring into being, and the Heavy Cruiser AURIGA pop out into realspace...right on time, as usual. The AURIGA had been assigned to the system just before the declaration of martial law...the troubles of the past would not repeat themselves again, not as long as he held the watch. Dafoe sighed, and prepared to recall the quintet of Starfuries presently patrolling above Loki's clouds...
* * *
"Is everything ready?" Commander Mirabel Dechene whispered to her suddenly promoted exec, Lieutenant Norman Kirkpatrick, as the AURIGA changed its heading, and made for Loki Station. "And more importantly, can we be *sure* that the AURIGA is completely under our control?"
"All Nightwatch members have been detained in the brig or their quarters, along with our esteemed Captain...or so we can determine."
"Damnit, Lieutenant!" Dechene hissed, her eyes bright, "The resistance Fleet is expecting us to be on time and ready to help, if this raid's going to work...and it's my intention to align ourselves with Commodore Tikopai and her forces upon the completion of that mission."
"Ah...Commodore? I understand, Commander; stand by."
Dechene sighed, and shook her head, before lowering herself gingerly into the Captain's chair, and strapping herself in. Movements, by necessity, had to be careful and precise in the microgravity environent onboard a Earthforce heavy cruiser, and as such, the aerial ballet that had occured during the removal of that Loyalist bigot Captain Vigal had been less then amusing, but the job had been done...and once they were done with this, the twenty percent or so of the crew who had stood with Vigal would remain on Loki Station. It would make the job harder on the remainder, but what choice did they have?
"Status is green, Commander; coming up on Loki Station."
"Fire control." Dechene announced smartly, now all business. "Stand by on forward batteries, prepare firing solution on their comm boom."
"Ready."
A quick check of the chronometer. It was time...
"We've got a jump surge!!"
"FIRE!!"
* * *
Dafoe shook his head in confusion, as, simultaneously, several things happened.
One...multiple chimes sounded in-station, followed by a warning horn, as the vacuum around them turned bright blue. Dafoe winced, and then jumped, as over half a dozen VERY familiar shapes emerged from jump points, that, if they had been any closer, would have torn the station apart.
Followed quickly by the deep -shudder- of a plasma hit on the station surface, and a new howl as the comm system went offline. Dafoe cursed...the AURIGA had fired on them, what the Hell???
"Well, I guess that's that!" his assistant, Roland Czescu, muttered, as dozens of Starfuries and Thunderbolts enclosed the station, and the nearest of the rebel destroyers, the APHRODITE, took up station less then three hundred meters away. "That's the Rebels, sir...in strength."
"You fool! Don't be so complacent. We have to try and find a way to warn Nighthawk Central.
"Ah...sir, with our comm system destroyed, and enemy ships on all sides??; How, exactly? Do you propose to yell real loud?"
"A good question." A deep thud rang through the station walls, and Dafoe sighed again. "And from that sound, I'm guessing we're about to be boarded. Very well, prepare the rest...if we have to go out, we can go out in a blaze of glory."
"Ah, sir??"
"Yes?" Dafoe turned, and abruptly, suddenly, met a sucker punch to the temple. With a groan, the commander of Loki Station folded up, and collapsed.
Roland Czescu shook his head somberly, and said, "I don't think so, sir."
* * *
Z'ha'dum. The Beams of Zha'vul...Apr 28, 2260.
"You've been gone too long." Morden announced, his gaze sharp. "Far too long. Our associates are none too pleased with some of your past choices, Walther. I suggest, strongly, that you should be a little more careful in the future."
<<Disappointment is noted. Continue!>>
Gideon shook his head and laughed scornfully, before walking silently to the edge of the great pit that yawned beneath the rotating beams of light that stood in this monument...one heart of the greatest city THEY had ever built. "Our associates know much, Morden...but even they cannot predict the outcome of things unseen and unknowable; it seems that our adversaries have reawakened a force long forgotten by our associates...a force that has aligned itself, for now, with Order."
"This cannot be allowed." Morden caustically replied. "It's bad enough with the *Vorlons* working on the side of Order, watching over their little children, without this...hyperspace force interfering with the plans of our associates." Morden paused, it seemed, to gather his thoughts, and then smiled. "In any case, our debate is pointless; the Dark Circle awaits...let us walk."
Walther nodded. "This interests me; in the past six months, on the few occasions I have been to Z'ha'dum, you've introduced me to a number of our agents working in the realms of the Younger Races. Many of those I have met have been human, however, I must assume that this is not the ENTIRETY of what you call the 'Dark Circle'?"
"That is correct." Morden paused, and looked up. They were near enough to the Beams now that the thrum of energy pulsed through the air...dangerous... invigorating... intoxicating. "Our associates have many servants, some of which we do not easily gaze upon. On this occasion, certain other members of the Circle have been invited to this place by our associates. They have information that we need." As Morden talked, the two agents passed through a vast, blackrock gate into the structure directly beneath the Beams of Zha'vul, and for the first time, Gideon directly beheld what lay within. He let out a small sigh, and Morden's smile widened.
A massive gallery, thousands of feet across, supported by immense pillars, extended off into the shadowy darkness, while a vast column of energy rose out of the depths at the center, dissapearing high above...presumably, the energy that powered the Beams. Nearer at hand, a circle of pillars, like the ones on the surface outside, but smaller, and within, a great table. Here and there, Walther could see some of his associates moving about, visible, and then not...but what awaited them was clearly visible.
At the table' side stood three skeletal creatures in robes of black, their faces a mask of hate and red fire. Each held an orb in one clawed hand, and a constant, shimmering dead sound permeated the air. Walther nodded in personal understanding...at long last, he was priveleged to meet members of another race that served his Associates.
<<Gide-eon...you have come. Good.>>
He bowed. "Beneath the Glory of Zha'vul, I greet you, in the name of those we Serve. We have agreed to help one another, in the problem we must solve.>>
<<Yesss. Cha'hal'zhamon return. Unexpected, but not surprising. Destroy, will. Drakh help.>>
"You are Drakh??"
<<We speak for Drakh. Drakh will help Gideon to defeat the Cha'hal'zhamon, will destroy those who destroyed US so long ago. Drakh will have revenge for past.>>
"Our associates have ordered the Drakh to assist you, Walther." Morden added cryptically. "As is noted, any further attacks upon their fleets by those called the Cha'hal'zhamon are unacceptable, and will not be tolerated."
"The Drakh have brought their fleet to Z'ha'dum?"
"Not just the Drakh...behold." Morden waved one hand, and a sphere of darkness sprang into being above the table. Nearby, the four who stood by Walther's and Morden's side emerged from the darkness, the buzz of their conversation anticipatory.
Above the surface of Z'ha'dum, space curdled, and ripped aside, as five jump points opened, out of which poured hundreds of tiny, arrow-shaped ships, as well as many larger vessels. At the same time, many dark shimmers resolved into the shapes Walther now knew, all too well. The armies of Darkness had come to Z'ha'dum, once again.
Morden nodded at his barbed look. "The time will come, soon, when our associates will move among the younger worlds with impudence, but before that happens, the problem of the Cha'hal'zhamon must be dealt with. That is where the Drakh come in."
"Very well." Walther stepped away from the table, but then, thought better of it, and turned. "One more thing, Morden...sooner rather then later, our associates will wish to move their forces off of Z'ha'dum. I believe I have located a world that would be *ideal* for such a purpose...given a little bit of work."
Morden inclined one eyebrow in interest. "There is a little time, yet; tell me more..."
* * *
"Awaken, my son."
William realized, with a start, that he was not where he was supposed to be, and rose to his feet. All around, mountains of rock and ice loomed, and to the east, the Sun stood, a ball of fire...the Sun of Earth.
But he had fallen asleep, beside his love, only a short time before, on Babylon 5. This could only be...
Of course.
"Will all the meetings be like this?"
The Other shrugged. "Perhaps; we will have to see; the future awaits, in darkness, and in fire. You will have to forgive us for contacting you this way, but the matter seemed urgent enough to warrant your attention; we have grave news, and I do not know what the outcome will be. Those you call the Shadows have begun to hunt through hyperspace in earnest, looking for our places of power...and this time, they are not alone, allies of the past you would call...*Drakh* have returned to aid them."
The sky above the Himalayan peaks vanished, and was replaced by an image of hyperspace...an image full of death. Deadly yellow arrows wheeled against the Hellish colours, striking against the stealthed Cha'hal'zhamon vessels fighting them, and outnumbering them by a horrible margin. William gritted his teeth, and nodded in understanding. Their allies were now paying the price for their earlier mistakes.
"As you can see..." the Other pointed out, "The Drakh cannot be disuaded, they only have one purpose in this, and that is to destroy us all, as we are found. We will fight them, but we are few; even though we are able to destroy ten or fifteen of their craft for every one of ours lost, the outcome is inevitable...we will die unless we can find a way to hide from our enemies." The Other fixed him with a harsh glare. "Think on this, Rimstalker; for now, we survive and will fight, but if this goes on for too long, we will cease to exist, and you will have lost that which you need."
"I will..need to think on this."
"Do so..but do not *take too long*." The Other, and his vision, retracted into a blaze of light, and William blinked. The blaze resolved into the candle that stood on his bedside table, far down from earlier, while beside him, Jennie slept still. He sighed. The secret stood, for now...
But how, in Valen's Name, could this problem be solved?
* * *
Elsewhere...another dream.
Oh, no...Brianna thought to herself, as she stood in the mists.
*Not Again.*
"Ulkesh."
##Yes## She turned, to see the somewhat menacing form of her master emerge into sight. ##Summoned##
"What do you require of me?"
##Danger; Gravity hides the hidden, the dangerous, the foolish## Ulkesh paused, and then, his voice returned...narrow and threatening. ##Find the knowledge that is needed. Seek the contact that is broken. *Understand* the Hidden.##
"Who are the *Hidden*?"
##The Stalker will tell you; if WE must destroy them, we must understand the threat. Too long ignored, too long silent, now, they have returned. Seek, and tell.
We *will* be waiting##
The connection was harshly cut, and Brianna sprang awake, her breath harsh and gasping. A stabbing headache slammed into her mind, and she cursed.
"He does that on purpose..." she whispered, getting out of bed to begin the hunt for the usual painkillers. "I just KNOW he does that on purpose."