Brought together by experiences both dark and prophetic, onetime Earthforce officers William Westcastle and Jennifer Clifford found themselves slowly but surely falling in love. And although they had sworn themselves to a pact of secrecy with certain powers, their arrival on space station Babylon 5 early in the Earth year 2259 was, more or less, uneventful. But this did not last. Within a few short weeks, Jennie would face a ghost from her past, and both of them, along with their increasingly stalwart companion, the Narn G'kael, would rescue a partially insane telepath named Brianna Tolmanes from Downbelow. And then, given guidance from, among others, the Technomage Elric, they would soon leave Babylon 5...
Their destination, Tuzanor: the City of Sorrows, on Minbar, where they would set aside all their loyalties, but one: their goal, to become Rangers, to fight against the darkness they both knew was coming. Brianna Tolmanes, guilty of sins beyond imagining, joined them in this task and came face to face with the Vorlon that called itself, at that time, Ulkesh. Their training would not be uneventful, and they would, in due course, attract the attention of an agent of Darkness that called itself a Z'nip'c.
Leaving for their first watch along the borders of the Narn-Centauri War would not give them escape from this creature, and sooner, rather then later, a faceoff occurs, and the Z'nip'c is killed. G'kael, having survived his own encounter with the Shadows, an encounter in which much of the Narn Intelligence Fleet was destroyed, returns to rescue them from the Centauri.
Meanwhile, their former companion, Walther Gideon, follows his own path, first, towards business, and then, into darkness, as his investigations bring him into contact with Shadow Agents Corrolan, Vendant and, eventually, Morden himself. Soon enough, Gideon is an Agent himself, and working for the Enemy, a twisted, pale copy of his former self, corrupted by the darkness at Z'ha'dum.
Much of the remainder of 2259 is taken up in a long battle between the Rimstalker and his cadre and this group of Shadow agents. Their battle will bring them into contact with an First One named Taaldon, a contact which ends in Brianna exorcising the demon of her madness, Corrolan, in a rather permament fashion, and also back in time as Gideon attempts to stop the destroyer AGAMEMNON from ever being built. Westcastle and the others stop him, but during this battle, Westcastle is shown a glimpse of the future, a future of mystery and dark purpose. Upon their return, they discover that several months have passed...and worse awaits them.
The Inquisitor, Sebastian, tormentor of Delenn, has been called upon by Ulkesh to determine whether or not Westcastle and Clifford have become tainted by Gideon's former friendship, now that he has descended into darkness. The test is severe, but the two survive, their love among the only things to keep them alive.
Finally, it falls upon the trio, along with new companions both Minbari and human, to field test the WHITE STAR for the first time. And as 2259 ends, they bear witness to the miracle of the Garden...and stand, helpless, as their Friend, the telepath, Brianna Tolmanes, departs for the Vorlon Homeworld.
And now, their story continues...
* * *
RIMSTALKER: DARK CIRCLE, PART I
"PROMISES OF RESOLVE", ACT I OF III
"We were the Rangers...and the watchers, born into a universe of failure, and of deception. We were the warriors who held the line in that time of destruction...that year of intolerance, an Age in which the Storm became a Hurricane...and the only force unyielding, was the force called BELIEF.
We held the linchpin of truth that would change everything, and be changed, and the things we did in this place would alter the course of history...forever.
The year was 2260.
The end of the Innocence. The beginning of the End. The end of the beginning.
And we so, we called down the lightning...drew the line that none could cross. We came together, in the place named Babylon 5, and found the strength to do what had to be done, for we faced the extinction of our very souls..."
-from the writings of Jennifer Clifford
- From "Annontated Notes on the Last War of the Shadow"
* * *
Jan 2nd, 2260. The Garden. Babylon 5.
William bent to the ground, and with two fingers, picked up a small shard of metal lying on the grass, before raising his gaze to the still partially shattered Axis above. He grimaced. They should have been able to prevent what had happened!.. and yet, even Rangers could not see what the future would hold. It was enough, he supposed, that Captain John Sheridan, his fellow Omega Naught compatriot, leader of this place, and (apparently, the way Jennie was describing it) companion to Delenn of Minbar, had survived...saved, in fact, by Kosh Naranek of the Vorlon Empire, those short days before.
And now, the only person who could give him any insight into the minds of the Vorlons was gone; Brianna Tolmanes, his obligation, his secret telepath, and, surprisingly enough, friend...departed, so she said, at the orders of Ulkesh, to the Vorlon homeworld itself.
Now, they were only five again...himself, Jennie, Talion, Tashann and Dreann. Would it be enough? The Shadows had momentarily paused in their advance and plans, perhaps confused and worried about Kosh's actions.
One thing WAS clear, however. The time remaining to them was growing shorter and shorter.
A thin, familiar arm wrapped around him from behind, and he smiled.
"Deep thoughts travel in your head, Will. I can always tell."
"Deep enough. It's quiet, for now...but this place will never enjoy peace, I don't think...not unless we can change the face of the universe around us."
Jennie's face grew somber. "Peace is something you have to fight for, sometimes. And with the Shadows out there, peace will be near to impossible, unless we can find some way to defeat them. The Vorlons may help in this...but you never know with the Vorlons. As for Babylon 5; I suspect you're right...for now, that is.
But this place, as you already understand, is destined to be the center of what is coming. Sheridan and Delenn are going to end up being the leaders of the force building around us...and what they do will determine whether or not this place, or ANY place, survives the war that the Shadows will soon be starting."
He nodded. "They may be the leaders...but sometimes, the people underneath the leaders end up doing more work...it's the little things that add up, over time, that sometimes matter more."
Jennie's smile returned. "People like us?"
"Exactly. Entil'zha Sinclair may have given us leave to find the peace we were denied at the Year's turnover...but that won't last."
* * *
Tuzanor, Minbar: Jan 3rd, 2260.
"The plans we have made will come back to haunt us, if we do not prepare for the future." Rathenn warned, as a somber Sinclair looked over the reports on his great desk. "What we have done is a great thing, but if you are lost, Entil'zha, then what are we to do? The Rangers have developed to the point where we must choose those leaders who will follow you in the months and years to come; both Minbari...and, more importantly, HUMAN."
"Delenn will carry on with our work...and, now, I believe, Sheridan, as well." Sinclair replied, his gaze heavy. "And that is a start; but you're right, Rathenn; as always you have been. Delenn and Sheridan will need Rangers to work with them in the halls of command; they has great strength.. but they cannot do alone what must be done."
Rathenn smiled a brief smile. "Delenn would disagree with you, I think."
"I'm sure she would, Rathenn! But the time will come when the White Star Fleet will fly among the stars in all its countless numbers ...and fleets need commanders, captains...and armies, Generals." Sinclair sighed. "I don't wish it upon them, Rathenn, but there is no other choice open to us. There must be a Council to follow in Delenn's footsteps, first a council that will not be afraid to sacrifice all in order to defeat the Enemy, and then, if all goes well, and we succeed in our tasks...a council of peace."
"Do you wish them recalled to Minbar, Entil'zha?"
"For now, no; work still awaits them on Babylon 5."
* * *
Jan 5th, 2260. Babylon 5, the Zocalo.
Had it been him? William turned, and broke into a fast run. If he was here, then there was trouble at Zagros Seven; trouble that the Entil'zha had been waiting for, the reason behind the mission so given...
A barely seen movement, and William turned, alert...and then relaxed, and moved aside.
"Marcus. It's been a long time since I've seen you."
"And I, you, William." Marcus smiled briefly. "Or should I say, 'Val'na', like the rest of your dutiful followers?"
"Dutiful, you say? I'm not so sure, some days." Time to get to the point. "Last I heard, you were on Zagros 7; the fact that you're here implies that there's problems at the Zagros Ranger facility. Is there anything that Jennifer and I can do to help?"
"In this case, I would wish it so; but the Entil'zha was quite specific in his orders to me. The time has come for Sheridan to take on the mantle that awaits him, to take the battle to the Shadows and their allies."
"A difficult prospect.. but you are right, of course. And it is correct that one of us should be close to Sheridan in these times.. to respond to his needs if matters arise, to help him where help is required, and, most importantly, to guide him to what must be done... the things that only he can do."
William frowned. "By the way, where's your..."
Marcus smiled. "In a place where it will be safe, and returned to me shortly, as message of that understanding. In fact, it's almost that time now. Keep well, William... until I see you next; which, I suspect, may be sooner then you think."
* * *
Jan 7th, 2260. The Garden, Babylon 5: Night Rotations.
William sat across from his love, preoccupied with her silence. Tonight was, by the look of things, one of their last nights of peace on Babylon 5. Marcus, Sheridan and Delenn had just returned from the mission to Zagros 7, and it was clear that a turning point had been reached in the long prelude to the nightmare that was coming. The 'White Star' had been used openly for the first time, and as Marcus had later described, they had engaged and destroyed a Shadow Warship through subterfuge ...a great victory; but now the Shadows would pay closer attention. The next engagement would not be so simple.
William's thoughts returned from other matters, and he found Jennie looking at him quizzically. He had to admit she *did* look good in the black dress he had bought her, and the night was far from over; but the problem they faced was far deeper then that. What they were was not the disguise they were wearing. The long cloak and badge of Jade was what they really were...and then, of course, there was the matter of that damned Prophecy.
"You see it too, don't you?" Jennie whispered, looking out over the darkened grass and buildings beyond, the myriad lights of the station's evening business. "As much as we're trying to enjoy ourselves here, I don't think there's any point to continuing this charade. We know what's going on out there, and if we can't be included in it..."
"I know. It's probably a good thing that this IS the last night, then."
Jennie raised one eyebrow in delighted inquiry. "Oh?"
"Marcus contacted me just prior to dinner. It's beginning to look like Sheridan is going to create some sort of War Council. And while we are not going to be members of that council since Marcus has been ordered to be the Ranger representative on that body, that doesm't mean there aren't other things to be done here...things less visible, more discreet."
"So...we're working under Sheridan, as well, now?"
"In a matter of speaking, as the duties of Anla'shok command are divided between the Captain and Delenn. And on that note..." he rose, and gave her a quick kiss, "It's probably time for us to hit the sack. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
"Almost. There's something else I want to discuss first, though."
He smiled. "Anything! As long as it doesn't involve us being apart."
"Have no worries on that regard! My birthday is something we didn't get to celebrate last year. But this year, regardless of what happens, and what we're doing, there's a place I want to spend that day on...a special day for me, as all my birthdays have been. A place I found during our time on Minbar. And this requires prior planning, so I want to make the decision NOW. You never came with me on those visits...your duties with the Entil'zha always kept you preoccupied."
"I know. I can't change what was. However, I know you like being mysterious sometimes... but are you going to tell me the NAME of this spot before we both go gray?"
She laughed. "The waterfall at Gajn'Darahl, on the northern slope of the Tuzanor valley. When we go there, you'll see why I love it so much."
"As you say." He bowed to her. "Consider that a promise."
A small, secretive smile grew on her face...a smile he was slowly coming to dread, for it always meant trouble. "I'll hold you to that promise."
* * *
Chronicles Log, Remembrances...
She's laughing at me, even now. That promise was both the best, and worst, I ever made!
* * *
Jan 7th, 2260. Late night.
A dark curdle of fear ran through Talion's gut. He had returned to Earth Alliance Space holding the belief that this could NOT happen again. And now, all of that had gone to pieces.
"Another?" the barman asked, his eyes curious, and speculative.
"Yes."
I am a Ranger; I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. I live for the One...I die for the One. And oh God, I thought that would be enough, that the discipline would help to defeat this fear of mine. But it's not enough...it never was, and I should have known better. I hid it from everyone...but I can't hide it from myself.
I'm so scared...
* * *
"You were right, of course."
"Of course I was! They're all here...difficult to see, but not impossible. Mollari believes he has broken his ties with me...he is wrong, of course. The time will come when Mollari will have no one else to turn to. And you will be given the same opportunity, in due course."
"I understand and agree. What do we do now?"
"What we have begun is greater then we believe, or understand. They will understand this soon. There remains much to be done before the final struggle begins.
Much."
To be continued....
RIMSTALKER: DARK CIRCLE, PART 1
"PROMISES OF RESOLVE" ACT II OF III
** "In hindsight, what happened during the course of 2260 could have been predicted from the start if we had been smart enough to see it. Entil'zha Sinclair allowed William to build a team around him... at first small, and then, eventually, bigger and bigger as time went on, until the time of the White Star Fleet came upon us.
But at the time, we liked to see ourselves as only a fairly small part of what was going on; this after all the events of the previous year... we should have known better.
And eventually, we would."
From Jennifer Clifford's "Storm Crossing: The Shadow War, and Other Responsibilities"
* * *
Jan 8th, 2260: War Council Chambers.
When Jennie walked in the door just behind William, it was clear a turning point had been arrived at. Calm and composed, Marcus Cole sat to one side of Captain Sheridan; other then that, the room was completely empty.
"Thank you for coming." Captain Sheridan said, his face grave. "Both of you." The Captain's gaze ran quickly across her, and he smiled, a little. "William's told me about you, Miss Clifford, and Marcus has, as well..." The Captain's gaze went distant for a moment, and then he frowned. "However, I seem to remember reading a report that you died, at Nighthawk Colony?"
She shook her head in exasperation; Zathras and G'kael were going to pay for that one! Apparently, this thing was going to be haunting her for a while yet...Captain Sheridan hadn't been the first to notice. "That is... correct, sir, but not the whole truth. What I did after the Shadows attacked Nighthawk was through the suggestion of an ally of ours, an ally I hope you will get to meet in due course. He may, at that time, explain the situation more fully to you."
Sheridan smiled again, and nodded. "Understandable, and mysterious, at the same time; but then, what more can I expect from a Ranger. Take a seat, both of you... we have a lot to discuss. Marcus?"
At that point, Marcus began his presentation. "As you are both aware, within the past twenty-four hours, Captain Sheridan, along with Commander Ivanova and Ambassador Delenn, took the first White Star to Zagros Seven and ended up by engaging and then destroying a Shadow war Cruiser, our first such victory to date. The Shadows may now know we exist as a threat to their plans, and as such, it falls to the Rangers, and more specifically, us three, to deal with the threat they may pose to Babylon 5, and, possibly elsewhere, if we are so directed."
William cleared his throat. "It is my understanding, Marcus, that you've been ordered to interact on a visible level with the Babylon 5 command staff. Can I assume, sir, that you have requested help above and beyond that, from Ambassador Delenn?"
Sheridan nodded. "I have. Everyone in my senior staff now knows that Marcus exists. They know him for what he is, or they think they do, at least...but that's not enough. Eventually, Marcus tells me that there will be more White Stars...eventually, no firm dates as of yet. But the longer we wait, the worse things could get...at any time.
Until that happens, the Rangers on Babylon Five need to answer to a single commander beneath the War Council, and for now, at least visibly, that commander cannot be me or the Ambassador; our other duties don't give us enough time to fulfill those tasks. I have consulted with the Ambassador on the situation, and she informs me that out of all the Rangers currently working out of the station, you are best suited for the task at hand, Mr. Westcastle."
A deep, cold shiver ran through her; she should have seen this coming...
"Additionally, while my command staff will be the top priority users for the time being, occasionally, you may be required to take care of duties off-station working under our command. As such, the Ambassador has indicated that whenever possible, the White Star will be made available for your use, until and if further become available."
Beside her, William whispered one word.
"Damn!"
* * *
Jan 11th, 2260. The outer Earth Frontier.
"You're mad!" the freighter captain exclaimed. "There's absolutely nothing out here!"
"Maybe I am." Brianna coldly replied, her eyes glinting dangerously, "But I have paid you well to take me to this point in space, and I have also paid you for the use of your lifeboat, which you can replace upon returning to Babylon 5. You will eject me, and you will go on your way. You need not worry, I assure you, those I wait for WILL come. They know that I am here, they know why I am waiting, and therefore, it is no concern of yours, Captain."
"So be it, woman. Make yourself ready."
Soon enough, Brianna reclined in the lifeboat's safety couch, and watched the freighter retreat as the lifeboat boosted away from it...and soon thereafter, the vessel turned towards the nearby jumpgate, activated it and vanished from sight.
She was alone. A voice in the wilderness, a singer in the darkness; and those she waited for heard the song, KNEW the song. Plans made by forces more powerful then she could imagine were finally coming to pass.
It was now only a matter of waiting.
* * *
Jan 12th, 2260. The Westcastle/Clifford quarters...late night.
William keyed in another report on his deskpad, and grimaced. Only a small number of days had passed since his new duties in this place had begun, and it was clearly going to be a far more hercluean task then he had at first believed. Not only did Babylon 5 exist as a nexus in the movement of the Rangers, but reports needed to be collated, assignments given and problems solved, practically on a 24 hour basis. Sooner rather then later, he would have to set up a small council to deal with the day to day problems of the command, but until that happened, very little sleep seemed likely. At least Jennie had gone to bed already, but if he didn't come soon, she would come looking for him eventually...she always did.
The door chime sounded; he sighed, and shook his head, before closing the reports file. It was far too late at night for this! "Come." The door twisted open, revealing Tashann, still one of William's sub-commanders, behind it. He did NOT look amused.
"We appear to have a small problem, Val'na; a problem I fear that only you can solve."
"I see; And why is it, Tashann, with all the Rangers on this station, everybody has to come to me?"
Tashann became visibly uncomfortable, which for a Minbari, was *something*. "William, you are the Val'na not only for our group now, but for everyone in this place; the other group leaders have, under the Entil'zha's direction, become subsidiary to you. However, more importantly, this a problem close to us...close to the original group that you and Jennifer created."
He sighed. "Explain."
"In recent nights, it has become clear that there is something wrong with Talion. He disappears, sometimes for hours, and the disappearances have been growing longer. Finally, last evening, Jhavonn, one of my junior Rangers, followed Talion upon departure from his quarters; the news is not good.
Our young Ranger, Val'na, appears to be drowning his sorrows in some of the less honorable establishments aboard this station. What is worse, he has begun to travel in the area called, I believe, 'Downbelow'. And on two out of the last ten nights, he has become...inebriated. The only good news in this situation is that Talion, while on his nightly travels, does not wear the uniform of his calling, the uniform of the Anla'shok. It shows that he has not lost his honor, or his belief in our ways...not yet. But this could change at any time; the problem must be attended to, and you are the only one who can do this."
William closed his eyes, and shook his head in frustration. Talion had always kept his past very close to him, not revealing as much as the others under his command. It was disturbing; and now, it appeared that Talion's past was coming back to haunt him somehow. The only reason men turned to drink was if they were trying to hide from something. Tashann, by rights, should have dealt with the problem, as Talion answered to the Minbari now. But it was not surprising that his comrade had passed the matter on to him... Talion WAS a human, after all.
"Very well, then, Tashann. At 0900 hours tomorrow morning, you and Jhavonn will bring Talion here; and we will determine, and hopefully correct, the problem that is causing this."
Tashann bowed. "So shall it be, Val'na; until then, may Valen watch over you in your nightly rest."
"And yours, Tashann."
William turned as the Minbari departed, and shook his head again. In all the months they had been preparing for the war ahead, sometimes it was easy to ignore the fact that problems closer to home sometimes interfered, in a big way. He needed Talion: needed him sober and whole... focused on what was coming. And therefore, one way or another, Talion would solve this problem... or William would solve it for him.
* * *
Hyperspace... near the Rim.
The flickering darkness of hyperspace could hide much, and did. The younger races used it to travel from place to place, in far shorter times then would otherwise be possible. This was understood, and understood well.
But hyperspace was more then this, and the elder races of the Galaxy, such as those the younger ones knew as the Vorlons and the Shadows (though these races did not, of course, call themselves this) had learned to use hyperspace in ways not dreamt of, in fashions as far beyond the Minbari, the humans, and others as the humans were beyond the fish in their world's oceans. And with this use had come the falseness of pride, the belief that all was known.
Firm in that belief, a small group of the vessels called Shadow fighters by the Younger Races moved through hyperspace together. Unlike the larger cruisers, these fighters did not require sentient processing units, but operated under the command of their larger masters. And as such, those masters had told the fighters to be at a certain place as soon as possible. The fighters would not dream of disobeying, it was not their way to even consider such a blasphemy.
Even now, the fighters traveled through a part of hyperspace much farther down the gravitational incline then any of the younger races would dream to follow. The fighters were strong, and their beliefs correct, and so, they did not deviate from their course. Time was short, and obeying the orders was paramount.
And then, one vessel, noticed a disturbing nothingness...a portion of hyperspace sealed away from view, it seemed. With a small shriek, it informed the rest, and as a group, they moved to investigate. The enemy, those the younger races called the Vorlons, possessed such an ability, but they were not usually found this far down the incline.
The fighter group penetrated the hidden zone, and rather abruptly after that, several things happened.
A spectrally fine, emerald beam sprang out of the zone, and quickly, efficiently, ruthlessly, cut the fighter group to bits.
And the portion of hidden nothingness, a disturbing lack that had, unfortunately, attracted the attention of those Shadow fighters, contracted onto four objects that, while they certainly existed, could not be told apart from hyperspace, apart from their MOVEMENT. The four objects, ships perhaps, moved down the incline, their purpose sure.
It was happening again. It had been long since the last time, but it WAS happening again.
The Dark Meddlers had returned.
The wars of domination, the unyielding disturbance, had come again.
Humans, and others, held the sneaking belief that something lived in hyperspace. And of course, the movements of Shadow vessels in hyperspace did nothing to dispute this belief. But the Shadows did not, of course, live in hyperspace. Hyperspace was not their realm, but it could be used.
This did not mean, of course, that hyperspace was empty. Far from it; the humans, and the rest, were right in their suspicions. But not in the manner they thought.
Not in the manner that anyone thought.
Not even the Shadows...
* * *
To be continued.
RIMSTALKER: DARK CIRCLE, PART 1
"PROMISES OF RESOLVE" ACT III OF III
** "Our pasts sometimes come back to haunt us, in more ways then we can believe, or understand. At the beginning of 2260, I found myself relapsing into a state I believed I had escaped from forever, a state of terror I knew not the origin for. For months, the focus of being a Ranger had aided me in escaping this fear, but finally, it did return, and I could not find a way of escaping from it, except by drinking myself into a forgetful stupor.
This was not a solution; this was only a betrayal...of myself, my friends, and my duty. And of course, William Westcastle, then the Ranger commander on Babylon 5(and other things as well, as we would later find out) moved to correct the problem, as was his duty.
And that was when we found out what the problem was. And afterwards, we would wish we had never looked." **
- Talion Quintara, as quoted in Margaret Watkin's "Mysteries of the Dark"
* * *
Jan 13th, 2260: Early morning.
Talion strode down the hallway, his gaze firm; Tashann strode to one side of him, Jhavonn to the other. But while his gaze was firm, inside, the terror had not gone away. In fact, Talion had to focus to keep it under control even now. And inevitably, his commander had noticed that there was a problem, and as such, Tashann and his companion had firmly yanked him out of bed at this ungodly hour.
A pounding headache still hammered within; last night was the third night he had allowed it to happen, and not only was he terrified of the nameless dread that seemed to be stalking him, he was now also terrified of losing complete control of himself, of failing to be true to himself, and more importantly, to his calling.
The three arrived at the correct door, at the correct time, and Talion sighed. Time to end this...or end his career with the Rangers, one or the other.
They entered, and remained standing. In the corner, in front of a pair of tall candles, the man some called the Rimstalker waited patiently, his expression dark. Talion nodded; it had been as he had assumed. Whether or not he would be able to explain the situation was as yet unknown.
"Talion."
"Sir."
"I have received some disturbing reports from Tashann, reports I would like to discuss with you. It is apparent that in the last few nights, you have begun to visit some of Babylon 5's drinking establishments, and on three occasions, the most recent last night, you allowed yourself to become intoxicated. This, as I am sure you understand, does not reflect well on your calling...the beliefs of the Anla'shok we all follow."
"I understand that, sir."
The Rimstalker's face twisted with displeasure. "I doubt that very much, Talion, otherwise you would not have allowed yourself to fall to this level. It has been my experience that men only turn to drink when they are experiencing difficulties in their lives. During our time on Minbar, it seemed very clear to me that you were as balanced a Ranger as had ever been recruited, and now, I see you distracted, and, it seems..."
"Afraid. Yes sir, I understand, and it was foolish of me to believe I could escape this easily, that I could escape from the past, this way. I joined the Rangers because I thought I could give myself enough discipline to put this behind me, but five days ago, the fear came back in all its intensity, if anything, worse then ever before."
"Fear, you say. The foe we fight is frightening enough, Talion, and I would not blame you if you were afraid of them. But that's not the fear we're talking about here, is it?"
"No, sir, it isn't. I wish I could be clear on what I WAS afraid of, but it isn't that simple, I'm afraid. This has been going on since I was sixteen, and even I don't know what the problem is."
"I told you it wasn't going to be as simple as you thought, William," the voice of the Observer spoke from the darkness.
"I believed it possible that the problem could be resolved just by talking it out."
"You should have asked for some of his back records, they explain much of what may be causing this. For instance, the place where Talion came from may have some serious bearing on the problem currently at hand."
Talion shivered as the Val'na's harsh gaze focussed on him once more. "Talion, you will explain."
"I spent the first seventeen years of my life on Mars, sir. My mother and father lived in the Syria Planum region for most of those years."
Talion watched the Val'na and his Other Half exchange a long, pointed, glance, one that he knew not the meaning of. "I see; and was your childhood...uneventful, Talion?"
He frowned. "What bearing does this have on the matter at hand, Val'na?"
"Answer the question!"
"Yes!!; it was a quiet and unremarkable time in my life. Until, in fact, I felt the calling to come to Minbar, to join with the Entil'zha in fighting the great Enemy, my life has been almost boring, you might say."
Another glance. "Thank you. For now, Talion, you may go; the answer to this question may have to wait for some time to come. However, you are forbidden from the establishments you have been frequenting in recent days. We understand that you are afraid, but there are other ways to control fear, ways that our teachers have taught you. Use them."
He breathed out, deeply. This was getting off FAR easier then he had hoped. The fear lurked in the background, but for now, the true core of it seemed to have receded again. "It shall be as you say, Val'na." He bowed, and turned to leave.
* * *
"Syria Planum." William muttered, his gaze still dark, as the three left his quarters. "Damn. I should have guessed we would run into this thorn again sooner or later, I just didn't think it would be this soon!"
Jennie nodded, her gaze knowing. "Psi Corps."
"Well over a year ago, before I grew wiser, I allowed Mr. Bester and one of his assistants to scan me. They assured us that nothing was wrong, and that they would not have to visit us again. I should have known better; perhaps Talion's background allowed us some warning..."
"Do you believe that this fear Talion is feeling is a side-effect of a Psi Corps agent spying on us?"
William nodded. "Talion's family comes from Syria Planum, the central nexus of all Psi Corps operations on Mars, and one of the original centers of telepathic genesis. There's a chance that Talion possesses part if not all of the telepathic gene, if recessively; this would explain the feeling of fear. However, if this is the case, what would the Psi Corps stand to gain from such an attempt? We're no longer in Earthforce, we're not directly threatening anyone in Earthgov... this makes very little sense."
"I agree, Will." Jennie replied, her gaze firm. "But it all makes sense, regardless of our wishes or beliefs. And therefore, we should make an attempt to discover the true meaning of this, before things get any worse."
He nodded, gaze bitter. "I wish Brianna was still with us; the answer to this question would be easy to find utilizing her talents."
"You know what she told us; the Vorlons have summoned her for their own reasons, and she will return when and if they are done with her, and not before."
"I understand that; but it doesn't mean I have to LIKE it."
* * *
Jan 14th, 2260; Planet Arcada VII;
"What do you want?" Walther inquired, his gaze severe.
The Arcadan official was looking distinctly uncomfortable, all the better for the matter at hand; this always seemed to work better if the alien representatives were off balance. "We are a small colony, Mr. Gideon, vulnerable and low in population. This far from Homeworld, there are few guarantees of quick military response; and Homeworld is, for reasons we cannot fathom for now, beginning to turn in on itself.
This is unacceptable; the political climate of the local galactic region has been deteriorating for some time now, and as a colony, our defences are few and far between..."
"My associates are well aware of this fact, Minister, and are prepared to respond to any threat laid against your world. The other, larger League civilizations are, as I have told you already, beginning to look towards expansion and aggression, and it is inevitable that sooner or later a full-scale war will break out amongst them. If this is so, then many of the smaller worlds, such as yours, may be caught between the juggernauts, and crushed."
"This possibility has occurred to us. If we are attacked, can your... associates, as you call them, act to prevent our world from being overrun and conquered?"
Walther nodded politely. "My associates are prepared to act to prevent that, in your name, and in the name of your people."
"Very well, then; while we do not, as of yet, face this problem, it may in due course become a concern. We are willing, at this time, to allow an alliance between us."
"Excellent; my associates will be more then pleased to hear that. Before I go, do you or your government have any further concerns that need to be addressed?"
"One only; it is our experience, in the few dealings we have had with your kind, that nothing, as you say, ever comes for free. Your associates are willing to guarantee protection to us; what do your associates want in return for this help?"
Walther laughed inside; caught...hook, line and sinker. "Nothing of consequence, Minister; should we be called upon to protect your world from invaders or aggressors, my associates will require of you only a small favor, nothing sizable, nothing worrisome. However, the time to discuss this matter is not yet; for now, you may rest assured that Arcada Seven is safe, and that no one will harm you, as long as my associates are watching over you."
* * *
"I will assume that it went well?"
"Of course. They are all afraid; there is no stopping what will be coming. Eventually, the mid and outer range colonies of all the varying powers in this part of the galaxy will begin to fight one another, and when that happens, our associates will be free to step in and further develop what must occur."
"They are all weak, and some of them will not survive; that is merely the way of things, as you know. You have come far, Walther; farther then I would have believed six months ago. Our associates are pleased with your efforts."
"Then let it continue!"
* * *
"Report."
"Monitoring will be less easy then we initially believed. Westcastle and his cadre have taken on a young man who appears to be a latent telepath. His abilities are completely recessive, but manifest as a feeling of fear whenever continued use of our abilities occurs nearby. Not an unheard of ability, but, perhaps disruptive to the matter at hand."
"Westcastle, is, therefore, aware of our presence?"
"That appears likely, and I believe that he will suspect the worse of us. Do we continue?"
"Perhaps it would be prudent to back off somewhat for the time being. There is no need to antagonize Westcastle or his followers, the role they will play in what is to come is, as yet, unclear. They are, nevertheless, important to us; especially once their rogue returns from her, shall we say, 'mysterious' absence."
"I understand. If I may inquire, how long will this stand down last?"
"For now; but who knows what tomorrow may bring?"
* * *
Next...Vorlon intrigues, resistance plottings, and another standoff in hyperspace. DARK CIRCLE, PART TWO, "The Shifting Sands" , coming soon!