"SORROWS OF THE PAST, BURDENS OF THE FUTURE" ACT III OF III
** "At this juncture, I find myself unable to accept what the First Ones inflicted upon us, and the reasoning behind it. Advancement through chaos and war set against unyielding order...and the rules they played by were civilized and barbaric at the same time. During that whole period, the Shadows played their hand unopposed...and as a result, old friend, when it came time for you and the others to face them in battle...I'm sorry we couldn't be there for you in your time of need...but *we weren't ready yet*...and wouldn't be for over two years more.
But now? Now we stand as one, thousands of ships, and dozens of races. The Swords have gathered...and the Rangers stand with them. We live for the One...and if necessary, we will die for the One, also. We will stand at Corianna VI...and if we fail, then the galaxy will fall into Darkness...for who will be left to stop the fall??
- From the Chronicles Log of William Westcastle, The Rimstalker, just prior to the Battle of Corianna VI, Feb 2261
* * *
Mar 31, 2259, 2337 hrs, Earth Standard Time.
Impotent and alone, the *N'blis* continued its end run towards the jump gate that was its final hope for escape. Rather abruptly, the first of the Shadow fighters chasing the Intelligence vessel came within range, and four balls of deadly energy slammed against the rear hull. G'kael nodded grimly from the command chair as the dim howl of their own rear plasma weapons shuddered through the N'blis's superstructure. The fight had begun, but the end result would, no doubt, be inevitable.
Admittedly, he *had* told his closest confidantes within the Service where he would be, and word would reach G'dalan in due course, but it mattered little...the Service and its thirty-odd ship fleet were spread across thousands of cubic lightyears at the call of the Regime. No help could possibly come in time.
G'nahl looked across at him from his station below, his eyes reflecting light from the station displays. The gaze was knowing...they had been betrayed...somehow, by somebody, and it would be impossible, now, for word to get out about the betrayal.
The *N'blis* shook harshly under a renewed salvo of blows. Off to port, one of the attacking fighters abruptly shattered into fragments as the front gunners triangulated it, but the end result would still be the same. The main Shadow vessels were approaching... and when *they* came within range, it would be over in an instant. Very well...it was time to end this. G'kael prepared to give the order to flip the ship end over end to bring their main weapon to bear on the enemy...
"G'n..."
"Shipleader!" N'rothak exclaimed. "The gate!"
G'kael abruptly redirected his attention at the gate they were still making for, the order frozen in mid-transit, and then glanced down at his instruments. Impossible! But it was true; the gate was coming online!
Something was coming through...to aid them???
And if so...then *who*?? And, more importantly...*how*??
* * *
17 hours earlier. The Narn-Centauri frontier.
With barely a noise, the quintet of midnight black, 350 metre long N'rothcka class pocket cruisers hung at rest, unmoving and stealthed...at rest, because of the meeting that had just concluded onboard the Intelligence flagship and squadron leader, the *G'tan*.
The last of the shipleaders departed, and the door to the conference chamber slid shut. With a grimace, G'dalan, Spymaster of the Intelligence Service, in the field at least, closed another report file and moved to the next. It was clear enough, to his eyes, what was going on, and equally clear what the result would be.
The Centauri, after long years of retreat and inactivity, were once more on the move; but this was not, after all, much of a surprise. Turhan, their emperor, was in failing health, and sooner or later, he *would* die. When that happened, the greatest of their houses would *immediately* begin jockeying for position to place their candidate on the throne...a race of power and glory, but chiefly dramatics. For whoever could present a stunning victory or coup to the Centauri nobility would control the Game. And G'dalan feared very much what that move would consist of.
Four months before, the Narn outpost in Quadrant 37 had been swept from existence by an unknown, unseen, but *very* powerful force...a force that G'dalan was more then willing to consider as allies to the Centauri, even though that had not, as yet, been proven. When Turhan died, certain powers in the Centaurum, and almost *surely* Mollari, their ambassador to Babylon 5, would use those allies again...and the destruction this time would be greater. The outcome when *that* happened would be inevitable..
There would be war. A war that the Regime, without this power on their side, would inevitably lose...*unless* the Service could provide the senior Warleaders and the Ka'rhi with evidence that this dark alien force actually existed!
With furrowed brow, G'dalan moved on to the final report. And *that* course of action was hindered by the recurring loss of his finest operative, G'kael, in his underpowered N'rothcka prototype, gone *once again* to search, by himself and unbidden, for that very evidence, in the dark worlds towards the Rim of known space. G'dalan was more then willing enough to order the masters of the *K'vilan* or *K'vel*, close personal friends of G'kael's, to tell him of the *N'blis*'s location, if they knew it. Yes!...now was the time, and enough was enough.
"Spymaster G'dalan to the bridge..." the voice of N'vriss, his Second, announced over the intership-comm grid. "Situation critical."
G'dalan wasted no time getting to that location.
"N'vriss...report!" he ordered curtly, upon arrival.
"The heavy cruiser V'dal has jumped into the vicinity. They are accompanied by the N'rothcka class 'K'vel'." N'vriss frowned. "The 'K'vel' is badly damaged...she is hailing us."
"At my station, if you please."
"Spymaster G'dalan!" the commander of the K'vel exclaimed, "Thank G'quan! We've reached you before *they* could."
"Explain. And where is the 'K'vilan'?"
"We were ambushed in Quadrant 21." There was a brief pause. "The K'vilan was destroyed in an instant. We barely escaped with our *lives*...and desperate enough that we did not think to record images of the enemy. It is clear enough what has happened...the locations of our ships have been leaked, *somehow* to the Centauri, and their dark allies moved to attack us...could even now even be moving to attack *you*!"
"I see...we will deal with *that* problem in due course, however. For now, a more pressing matter is at hand. G'kael, our finest operative, is out searching for the same, unknown and destructive dark power...and given your warning, I do not doubt that they approach him even as we speak. You *will*, if you know of it, provide his location to me now!"
"Understood." The K'vel's commander abruptly recited, from memory, it seemed, a string of coordinates.
G'dalan nodded, and N'vriss turned sharply away, and began to input course data. "Your assistance is duly noted. For now, you will return to the Service yard for repair and refitting, and speak not of rumours, for until we have recorded *proof* of these creatures and their ships, *nothing* must be said. In two cycles, your refitting must be concluded, and you will gather the rest of the fleet to continue the mission. Is this clear?"
"Yes. And your destination, Spymaster?"
"*We* go to try and save G'kael from this dark power, if anyone can...and aquire the information I just spoke of. 'G'tan' *out*". G'dalan turned sharply to his Second. "Inform the commander of the V'dal that we require a jump point...immediately. Calculate course to the coordinates provided based on this fact. We go, now...or not at all."
* * *
Present time.
"Impossible!" N'rothak exclaimed, as the jump gate irised open, and with the flickering flare of multiple jump-outs, five Intelligence cruisers leapt into the system. "How did they..."
"That does not matter." G'kael replied, far more calmly then he should have, given the astonishment he was feeling, as thin red lines of fusion fire reached out from each of the newly arrived cruisers, and many of the nearer Shadow fighters around the 'N'blis' disintegrated into random black fragments. "Redirect as much energy as you can to the engines. The rest will cover us...we must make for the gate, and escape to tell the Regime of this danger!!"
"Understood." N'rothak and G'nahl replied in unison, and the renewed pull of acceleration gravity gripped them all as a mighty flare of energy emerged from the still only slightly damaged main drive behind them.
"'G'tan' to 'N'blis'. 'G'tan' to 'N'blis'...come *in*, 'N'blis'." came the voice of G'dalan, as quite suddenly, one of the newly arrived fleet was blown into fragments by one of the larger, angrily screaming spidery nightmares that were the Shadow main vessels.
"G'dalan!" G'kael exclaimed, rising from his seat, "Get the information you need, and then make for the gate!! We *must* escape together!"
"Negative." the voice of the Spymaster returned, "We are gathering the information now, and will transmit it to you. We are badly outnumbered here, G'kael...if *one* of us cannot escape, then all are lost!" With that, the four remaining vessels turned as one, and made directly for the, apparently, now single Shadow cruiser in charge of the operation.
"G'dalan!" G'kael cried in frustration.
"It is too late for that!" G'nahl interjected furiously, his eyes tight. "They are sacrificing themselves so that we may escape!"
"I *understand*...activate jump gate sequence!"
Behind the fleeing 'N'blis', one by one, the protective envelope of G'dalan's fleet was destroyed, until only the 'G'tan' remained..and then, that ship, too, was cut dramatically in half by a violet death-knife of energy. Ahead of G'kael's ship, the jump gate, now quite near, came on line with a coruscating flash of energy. Had the sacrifice of the rest been enough, he wondered...*would* the Shadows let them escape, or was it all for nothing??
The answer to that question came an instant later, as less then five thousand shiplengths behind the 'N'blis', a vast, sinister form coalesced out of nothingness, and the same violet deathbeam that had killed the rest of the fleet reached out, and with casual intent, sliced the N'blis's engine section away from the rest of the vessel.
Tumbling, out of control, what remained of the ship passed *beneath* the still open jump gate...and then, the newly arrived Shadow vessel struck again, and what remained of G'kael's ship was abruptly traveling in two highly disparate directions. G'kael did not even have time to react as a great gout of plasma fire erupted through the bulkhead at the back of the bridge and flung him against the fore bulkhead.
Fighting against the seconds, and the howling wind of air escaping through the vast rent at the back of the bridge, N'rothak moved, for his life *and* his commander's depended upon the next ten seconds. With a desperate lunge, he grabbed hold of the mercifully unconscious G'kael, and partly using the decompression wind as a guide, made for the escape module that would eject them from the burning, dying prison that, between one moment and the next, the 'N'blis' had become.
Their job done, the two Shadow vessels, decoy and killer, hovered for a moment within the broken clouds of debris, and then as one, turned with their fighters and faded from sight.
* * *
Apr 5, 2259. The Ranger Compound, Minbar. Night.
Cloak wrapped tightly about his body, William moved through the darkness, alone. Many of the lights within the Ranger compound had now been extuinguished at this late hour, and a light snow, symptom of the cold and the mountain altitude of the compound, was falling through the night, and beginning to shroud the compound in white. Sleep had evaded him, and now, now he sought a place he could relax, meditate, and stop the thoughts that whirled through his mind.
Abruptly, a warmly glowing structure emerged into view, made slightly fuzzy by the falling snow...the decision came quickly, and he turned, and made for shelter. Nicknamed 'The Chapel' by some of the newly created human Rangers(and the nickname was spreading) the small Minbari temple was not often used during the hours of dark, and several times in the past month, he had found himself *drawn* to this place. It did the job he needed it to...most of the time.
Shaking the light skein of snow off his shoulders, Will made his way inside, and sat down a few feet away from the statue of Valen that dominated the heart of the temple. Valen. A mystery to him and the rest of the human Rangers...a figure of legend for the Minbari, and a locus for both within the Rangers. A heart to build the rest on. Valen had, of course, founded the Anla'shok to fight the Shadows a thousand years before...if anything was true, maybe he came to this place hoping that the spirit of Valen, after all these years, would help him find his proper course within the Rangers, and a measure of peace for his troubled thoughts.
"Good evening, William.." a familiar voice spoke out, and with a start, he turned to see Sinclair enter the temple, hood drawn up against the weather outside. "May I join you?"
He rose, partially alarmed...it was not common knowledge that Sinclair often came to the Chapel, for some of the same reasons that drew him here, but up until now, he had managed to avoid an encounter with their sometimes warm, sometimes distant leader. "Forgive me, sir, I didn't mean to intrude upon..."
"You do not intrude, William." Sinclair glanced briefly up at the statue of Valen, and then back at him. "In fact, I suspect you're here for much the same reason I come...to find a little bit of peace at the heart of the Storm."
Unbelievable...but there it was. Sinclair had, with a minimum of effort, cut to the heart of his problem. How much else did he know?? How much else had he been *told*, and by whom???
"You understand the situation better then I would have expected, sir."
Sinclair laughed. "You should say, rather, better then I deserve. My position, as well as those who advise me, give me a great deal of insight into what happens throughout the Ranger organization, William...and your case is, shall we say, a bit of a unique one. In fact, it would be right to say that all *three* of you, Jennifer, Brianna *and* you, are unique...and uniqueness always attracts attention.
In your case, you are fighting both with your need to return to the Enemy what they inflicted upon you...*and*, of course, what you call 'the visions'...which shows me something completely beyond what you have been considering, something *very* important...and part of the reason you found yourself drawn here, I'm sure."
"Would you care to explain that comment, sir?"
Sinclair nodded. "What I am about to tell you is not common knowledge...Hell, there are times I barely believe it myself, but the Minbari do. I am apparently going to play a pivotal role in what is to come. What that role is, I don't know...but it seems inevitable, William, that you will get your chance to, as the Vorlons would say, 'stalk'....to follow the Enemy's movements, know their plans...and stop them, and, if necessary in the stopping, to kill them."
William felt himself smile. Was it just, perhaps, that before now, he hadn't *really* believed anyone besides those close to him cared about his problems? No...it had to be more then that...but it was enough, for now, to know that *Sinclair* was willing to be there with an open ear and a kind word when necessary...sometimes only to re-emphasize things he already knew, but doubted, and other times, to give the guidance only he could produce.
All of a sudden, exhaustion swept over him, and he rose. "Thank you sir!...for everything."
Sinclair merely nodded thoughtfully...but then, a noise at the back of the temple disturbed them both, and William whirled, to see a harried looking human Ranger approach. The Ranger looked at him briefly, and then at Sinclair.
"It is safe to speak...William is almost one of us, now."
"I understand, sir. I have news...disturbing news. The few Ranger patrols we have in the vicinity of the Narn-Centauri border have reported evidence of Shadow activity. It appears that well over half of the Narn intelligence class vessels have been destroyed, covertly, in the past week. The Centauri Emperor is, by all signs, preparing to move to Babylon 5...some of us feel, to apologize for past wrongs. But it may *be too late* for that...the Centauri nobility plots and moves behind his back...and the galaxy falls towards *war*."
"Grave news...and disturbing. But this has been coming for a long time."
And then, of a sudden, what the human Ranger has said caught on a memory in his brain, and Sinclair's words faded into the background of an image of one Narn who had helped them reach this place...a Narn who, by the sound of it, now stood a good chance of being dead.
The memory of a dark scream emerged against an image of fire, and then, an image of G'kael's ship, broken and destroyed.
"No!"
* * *
Log of N'rothak, Third of the 'N'blis'. Final entry.
Two!...*two* are all that lived from the six ships of the Service that stood against the darkness that day...and I, the only to survive relatively unscathed. The battle was measured in seconds...seconds in which the pride of the Service sought to gain knowledge of the Enemy that faces us...and were slaughtered...the best and the brightest that the Regime had to offer.
What is *worse* is that our two greatest field leaders lie either near to death or beyond that doorway...and I do not understand how G'kael has survived *this* long.
It is saddening, but G'quan forgive me, I could not move any quicker then I did, and a plasma fire spares no Narn. In that instant, my leader...one of the few to know the truth about the dark Enemy we face, was burned over forty percent of his body and hurled towards death. I did what I could for him, but he barely lived to see rescue, and now lies deep in a coma. They cannot tell us whether or not he will emerge...and I fear, now that the Regime descends towards War, that any return G'kael does make will not be complete enough...or quick enough to satisfy those who need him the most.
The Shadows ensured my silence...could, in fact, be watching me even *now*...and so, I stand behind the lie that is, and say I do not remember what happened, who killed us...destroyed our ships....and *how*. I do this to protect my leader from those, invisible, who threaten us.
But should G'kael die...I fear I will not long follow him into the abyss.
* * *
Chronicles Log, Entry IV, April 19, 2259.
It has been a difficult two weeks for me, more difficult then I could have dreamed possible. The revelation of G'kael's likely death at the hands of the Shadows, even though this cannot be proven, was, at the start, a terrible shock and burden to bear, coming as it did so quickly after the resolution of purpose provided to me by Jeffrey Sinclair that night.
That night...a night of gently falling snow, of peace and contemplation, shattered forever by the news of what had arrived, and what was coming.
And now, the time for contemplation is almost done, and we are being pushed ever harder towards our destination. We are changing, and being changed by events. I find myself watching these changes, and shaking my head. But there may come a time when these records become necessary to the survival of the Rangers, and thus, I continue.
It is becoming increasingly apparent that Ranger One intends to utilize my leadership skills to the utmost. While he runs all, he cannot be everywhere, and so the Rangers, like any army who have come before, break themselves down into subunits and groupings, preparing, training...learning. And we are growing...it cannot be long now until Sinclair puts us all to the test.
Next, I will talk of Brianna. Far, now, from the lost but determined woman who came to Minbar with us a month and half ago...Brianna's skill as a telepath is being tightened *somehow*...I have suspicions that the Vorlon, Ulkesh, might have something to do with this, but she will not speak of him, and so, I do not press. Regardless, her prowess as a Ranger will be unquestionable, and when it comes time to fight, her skills will be all too necessary in the war against the Enemy.
And finally...finally, I come to my love...my Jennifer. *She*, beyond the rest of us, has changed the most. From the embarassment of a month ago, she has pushed herself harder every day, purifying and honing the essence of both her skills as tracker and gatherer of information, but also, and more importantly, she believes, her skills in..."
* * *
Apr 21, 2259. The Ranger Compound Practice Arena.
It had begun, just as they had thought it would, Jennie considered, as her current training duel with Dreann continued. In the name of the Centauri, the Shadows had obliterated a colony on the Narn frontier, and now, through a deliberate misunderstanding, the Narn and the Centauri had resumed their decades old conflict with one another. Where would it end, she wondered, working her staff into one move after another. Would the whole galaxy stand ablaze before the Shadows were satisfied?
Not if the Rangers had anything to say about it.
Move, and countermove. Block, and parry. So often now, she did not have to even *think* of the moves...they simply *came*, in a flowing, liquid advance that sought to move beyond the training matches she now enjoyed so much.
In a barely seen blur, she shifted her staff down and under Dreann's defence, and seconds later, the Ranger, now, surprisingly enough, growing to be a constant companion, fell to the floor in a fall that was, however, still *more* then under control. Jennie smiled, and in a concurrent ongoing tradition, tapped her companion lightly on the throat with her staff. "Endgame?"
"Of course." Dreann abruptly returned to her feet, and joined her on the edge of the circle. "You do well, Jennifer...*more* then well, now that you have achieved the full focus you have been seeking. I can now acknowledge your stories of training with this weapon in the constricted spaces of your youth...it was initially disheartening to see that you had forgotten so much, but *now*...that appears to be behind you."
She nodded. "I'd like to think so...maybe, just maybe, I'm starting to achieve my *full* potential at last!"
"*Perhaps..*" a deep voice announced from the shadows on the far side of the arena, and as one, Ranger and Trainee turned and bowed, as F'hursna Sech Durhan, one of the mightiest of Minbari warriors, entered the circle. "And perhaps *not*. You now defeat Anla'shok Dreann on a regular basis, Human female!...perhaps it is time to advance this to a higher level, hmm?" With a barely seen flick, Durhan tossed a small object through the air towards her, and without a thought, Jennie reached out and caught it. The catch imposed a half-twist upon the short, cylindrical object, and with a barely-heard "Shnk", it immediately expanded to its full, five foot length..
The breath caught in her throat, as beside her, Dreann bowed again, and backed away. A *Denn'bok*!...one of the prized and rare Minbari fighting pikes! Looking up, she saw, without surprise, that Durhan had already extended his own, and with the lazy, predatory grace of the true warrior, was waiting for her to act. Jennie glanced quickly to the side, and saw that there were now spectators in the previously empty arena, Sinclair, among them.
"What do you wait for, human?" Durhan barked, as he slowly advanced upon her. "Dreann tells me what you are becoming...now show *me*!"
She tried not to gulp. Matches with Dreann were fine enough, but *DURHAN*! "I don't deserve..."
"I did *not* hear you say that. You are, in my estimate, and I am *rarely* wrong, among the first of your fellow humans to reach this stage. Do not tell me that you are unwilling to face me freely in combat, Trainee Clifford! I do not accept that refusal... *WILL* not accept it."
Eyes wide, she glanced down at the pike in her hands again. The silver gleam blazed back at her...light, but deadly, in the right hands..but were *hers* the right ones??
She suspected that she was about to find out.
"You honour me, F'hursna Sech...both with these words, and with this challenge." On the fringes of vision, she could see that the crowd of watchers was growing.
"Then advance...and show me your worth, human!"
The moment would be right...but when? The thundering buzz of her heart eclipsed all distractions...all thought but the matter of honor currently at hand. Jennie balanced herself lightly on her feet, and began to circle...as did Durhan..the moment would be coming...was coming...
*Now*
With a blur, she shifted hand over hand and met the almost volcanic, *certainly* frightening onslaught of Durhan's first blow. It was as Dreann had said...his skills were beyond impressive, they were *phenomenal*! Initially, it was a near impossible struggle to keep him from unseating her. But then...then, the smooth grace she had achieved so often just lately began to come to the fore.
At the same time, it was clear that Durhan was *not* trying to hurt her, that she could feel without even trying, although the fighting pikes could, so easily, shift from the non-lethal moves of this match to killing blows. Instead, Durhan was honing her, far harder then Dreann ever had...but now, NOW, the rhythym had been found! Move followed move, and she did not see the arena, did *not* see the now group of fascinated humans and patiently watching Minbari Rangers and trainees, she only lived for the match and for the moves, and in the moment.
And then, in a moment as painful as any she had ever known, Durhan pulled back, and grounded his pike. It was over!...in an instant, ever respectful of the conventions, she did the same.
Durhan nodded at her. "Impressive...*very* impressive...for a human, that is." He turned his head. "Dreann, you spoke truly...she is, without a doubt, one of the finest hand-to-hand fighters in the current group...an accomplishment to be proud of." Durhan lanced her with his piercing eyes, and then turned his gaze again to the still silent watchers. "Among you all, of those present and those who have come before, only *three* have gone where this human has. It is an honor...a *great* honor, but Trainee Clifford suffered a greater shame...has striven to absolve that shame...and has succeeded.
She is closer to her goal then ever before. You all advance towards the Ceremony along different paths, and in different ways...and while her greatest skill lies elsewhere, she has aquired a valuable *new* one...found the courage to make a stand for what she believes in..and to make right what once was wrong. A valuable resource this is, beyond all use of weapons."
Durhan fell silent, while a good deal of the humans present clapped. At this, a glow emerged within her...not, she realized, a glow of triumph, or success, but of pride. *SHE* had done this...her!...through dedication, and a Hell of a lot of practice. In the crowd, she suddenly found Will, and he bowed to her, in the form that signaled a Minbari's aquiesence of superior skill. A blush touched her cheeks, but then, her thoughts grew firm again, and with another half-twist, she closed the pike, and held it out to the instructor who had allowed her to prove her worth in front of her peers.
Gaze ironic, Durhan received it. "Know this, human...just because you have proven your worth...does not mean the training has finished. You will join me, here, at sun's rise, tomorrow...and we will continue what we have begun here."
"I understand. I will be here."
She smiled as she turned away. What more needed to be said?
* * *
"They have come far."
"Yes, the young human female's display of prowess proved this to be the case. Surprising...but now that we know what is to come, her dedication may inspire others to follow in her steps. And that may be the *only* thing which will save us..."
* * *
Next: The Great War has begun, and the tests of courage continue. A nightmare of ice and frozen death has been unleashed. Some will die, but some will find themselves placed on the final path to those words, most honorable, that will set them free..."In Valen's Name, In Darkness True"...the next part of DESTINY'S CALL...