**"In Darkness, find me. In spirit, bind me. With words reveal me, with vision, see me. To right the wrong, to hold the line...to feel the pain, the horror, mine. To do what must be done."
- From the portions of "The Book of the Observer" that survived 'The Great Burn'
* * *
May 31, 2259.
Jennie knelt with the others, listening to the Ceremony conclude. Shaking just a little, she gazed down upon herself: upon the uniform she had finally earned...heard, and felt the badge upon her breast...a badge of union, and of prophecy...a perfect jewel, within a setting of gold and silver made to resemble Minbari and human figures. That badge had been cooled in sacred water, the blood of Minbari and her own blood...and thus it had been sanctified. She listened on, as the ceremony of welcome concluded.
And then, she rose, to recite with the rest, the only words that mattered.
"I am a Ranger. We walk in the dark places no others will enter. We stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. We live for the One...
We die for the One."
Above and to the side, Sinclair briefly met her eyes, and then it was over, and the old but wise Sech Turval dismissed them. With the rest, she turned and filed out into the morning sunshine, and then, felt herself grabbed roughly from behind...
Almost she turned and responded to this perceived threat, but then stopped herself. This was a hold of exuberance, not of anger or desperation, and of course, it was a broadly smiling William, with Brianna close behind him, in the same clothing as she...Anla'shok, now were they all. Forcing herself to relax, she leant into him.
"What do you feel? Was it all worth it?"
Will nodded, his smile now growing a little sober. "A graduation, I guess, almost like any other...and yet not. This isn't like graduating from school, or the Academy. We've joined an army...an army dedicated to watch, and eventually, to act. You've heard, haven't you?"
"What?"
"The Religious Caste: they've finished the final design of the White Stars. The first should be finished before year's end. And after that...dozens...and then, if all goes well, hundreds more. There will come a time when the Shadows will cease their plotting, and come out into the open. And when that time comes...I *pray* we're ready...we have to be."
She placed a finger across his lips. "*That's* for the future. For now...the struggle begins, Will."
"It does indeed." the by-now familiar voice of Sinclair announced, as their leader approached across the stone-laid courtyard. "That time will not easy on any of us..but that, too, is for the future. For now, I offer my congratulations to you all...you have done well."
William bowed. "You honor us, sir."
Sinclair smiled. "Perhaps. However, I wish the celebrations could be longer...but they cannot." Sinclair's face sobered, then. I must ask you to leave immediately, for the threat of the Enemy continues to spread. I would ask you to join me...we have a great deal to discuss before your departure."
She met Will's eyes, and he nodded. And so it began.
* * *
Chronicles Log, Entry V, June 1st, 2259.
It has been long since my last writing in this log, longer then I should have allowed, but I have been very busy preparing myself for what has come upon us at last.
Yesterday afternoon, I sat in front of our leader, Jeffrey Sinclair, and received my first order as a Ranger...and even then, Ranger One did not so much order it, but rather requested it...and how could we say no, after all that he has given us?
The volcanic conflict at the Narn-Centauri frontier is one of our greater concerns at the moment. Ranger One has no resources as of yet to stop the conflict; the Rangers as a whole will not have the White Stars. at a minimum, for another fifteen or so months. But we must go and observe, and where we can, try and determine if there has been any further involvement of the Shadows in this War. It will be dangerous, but we are Rangers...and now we must walk where others fear to tread.
* * *
Narn, June 1, 2259, Earth Reckoning.
"Ah!" G'kael exclaimed, as what remained of the nerves along his arms, side and back were stimulated. "Can this not provide *feeling* instead of pain?"
The Narn technician balefully eyed his patient, while nearby, N'rothak attempted to hide a smile. In the days since G'kael had emerged from his coma, his leader and friend had come much farther then he should have, and was now, regardless of the heavy nerve damage and burn scarring, back on his feet once more. The technicians were attempting to stimulate new neural connections, but N'rothak doubted that G'kael would endure much more of this...especially given that he still retained use of all his limbs, despite the scars.
There were more important matters to consider, the War foremost among them.
With a impatient wave, G'kael sent the technician on his way, and turned the gaze of his one good eye to the ocher sky outside. "N'rothak. this cannot go on. Now that I have awoken, and they have proven that there is, other then the damage *they* inflicted on me, nothing else wrong with me, I must act. The Regime needs us, and what we know."
N'rothak nodded. "The War does not go well. The Centauri are advancing... slowly, yes, but they *are* advancing. And it does not appear that they have used..."
"Do not say it!" G'kael whispered, waving him closer. "It isn't safe to mention them here. But we must get out of here, N'rothak...find a place where we can gather our forces, and begin to make plans. Something is about to happen...I know it!"
The comm system beside G'kael's bed chimed. "Yes!" G'kael barked, "What is it?"
"Forgive my intrusion, Shipleader, but there is a message from Minbar addressed to you...personal code only."
"Hmm. From...Westcastle?" G'kael's one eye widened. "But what could be the password? Hmm...yes, of course." G'kael spoke a single word, and the message unscrolled on the screen. "I see!" G'kael turned to N'rothak. "There we have it...the decision has been made for us!"
"What does it say?"
"Read for yourself, N'rothak."
* * * * * * * * * *
Stay close to your home, friend, we have succeeded in our aim. The Observer has seen what must be seen, and we now stand against the Storm. In Valen's name, we are coming.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Has it been that long already?"
"Apparently so." G'kael rose to his feet, abruptly deleting the message. "Get me that physician, and inform him there has been a change in plan." N'rothak nodded and turned to go, even as G'kael closed the eyepatch over the left side of his head, grasped the handle of the storage area to fling it open, and reached for the uniform that lay within...
* * *
June 2nd, 2259. Very early morning.
Brianna dreamed. A dream of death, a dream of destruction. A dark, spidery vessel passed overhead through the brilliant silver sky. A dream, it had to be!...for the Minbari would never let a Shadow vessel get that close to Minbar's surface!
She turned, and Ulkesh was there.
"#You are the second, not the first. You are the Guide, you see what remains to be seen#"
She nodded in the dream. "Yes, I understand. At last, I understand the meaning."
"#You understand **nothing**. In between, the Watcher will be seen. Act#"
She shook her head dumbly. *Now, what did he mean?"
"Act??"
"#Act...or Die#"
Abruptly, she came awake, then, and whispered a curse. He had been inside her head again. Now, if only she could remember exactly what had just happened!
* * *
June 3rd, 2259.
The Minbari ground-to-orbit craft, so similar to the one they had embarked on three months before to descend to Yedor, rose into the darkness. There were far more humans on this outbound flight then there had been on the descent...and they shared a common goal, William thought, in their attitude and their dress. The sigil of the Rangers, for now, rode safely within a pouch in his cloak, and the others onboard had done the same, for now. They were travelling into dangerous territories, different, and yet, the same...for everywhere the influence of the Shadows spread, there the Rangers would have to go.
A dangerous plan. But necessary...*all* too necessary.
William smiled. Word had come down the line just before their graduation that G'kael had survived the attack upon him and all those who had died that fateful day. A great sign...and for now, the only one that mattered. Others were travelling in the same direction that they were, but along differing paths. In the end, they would reunite, but for now, *his* Three travelled alone.
Brianna turned to him, her eyes hiding a mystery...that was plain enough to see, and more then likely a mystery concerning Ulkesh. Best not to pry. "So...we go where others fear to tread...and under your command, at that."
"That was *his* idea."
"I know...probably the correct choice, though, don't you agree?"
He sighed. What choice had he been given? Sinclair had been pushing him in this direction from the start. Small cells of Rangers were moving out in all directions...and there *had* to be a leader for each cell.
Inevitable.
"Put those thoughts to rest." Jennie whispered from the other side, the light touch of her hand on his. "We're doing the right thing. And for now, you have *other* matters to attend to, don't you?"
He nodded, and then turned his gaze to the small comm-slate on his lap. The training had been long, and contact with the outside world slim. It was time, at last, to reopen some of the *other* lines of communication that were available to him...
* * *
RIMSTALKER: DESTINY'S CALL, PART 8
"THE MOST HONORABLE WORDS" ACT II of II
** "And so it was, after all the months and the trials, we were on our own again...but our perspectives and loyalties had completely changed. *Now*, we operated under the auspices of the Rangers, and our thoughts...our very *souls*, even had been changed by the experience. We no longer thought in human terms...but now, in human *and* Minbari. Many a time over the months and years to come I would engage in conversations with other Rangers, and figure out afterwards that the conversations had been almost completely in one of the three Minbari caste languages. But that was later...and of course, even though I wrote this, I'm already digressing.
So long ago, and far away it now seems, that fateful Summer of 2259. Challenge after challenge, and three new ones waited on our horizon. First the challenge of the war raging on the Narn frontier, then the problem of the Z'nipc, and finally, and worst, the final seduction and betrayal of one who had almost been our friend...Walther Gideon, someone who would , after what was soon to happen to him, be lost to us forever..."
From: "Storm Crossing, the Shadow War, and other Responsibilities."
* * *
June 3rd, 2259. Babylon 5...late night.
It had been one hell of a week, and things just didn't seem to be getting any better. John Sheridan sat back in his chair, sighed, and rubbed his eyes. Everyone else was already dead to the world...Susan, of course, had wanted to know why he hadn't gone to bed hours ago. Too much to think about...the shades of War gathering, from the Narn-Centauri conflict to the GROPOS passing through the station a few weeks back.... what would be next?
Time to go to bed. But first, he might as well check his messages, on the slim chance that anything he *wanted* to read might have come in since the last time he'd checked. It seemed like *forever* since Liz or Dad had called.
*You have One Message*
"Display message."
*Password Required.*
What the...wait a minute. Sheridan smiled a rueful smile, and nodded. Of course. It had to happen sooner or later. "Omega Naught."
The face of William Westcastle flashed on the screen, and Sheridan immediately noticed the change. Westcastle looked, for want of a better explanation, like he'd had some sort of revelation...or been tempered and forged into a harder person then he had been.
"Hello sir. I'm sorry I haven't called before now...but there hasn't been time, I've been too busy. But, if not a friend then as a passing aquaintance, you deserve to know that I'm doing okay...saving my life does have benefits, and it never pays to let lines of communication fail. My Dad taught me that...and I never forgot those words.
Sooner or later, my accomplices and I will pass through Babylon 5 again, and when we do, I hope I'll have time, and you will, for a moment of conversation amidst the passing hours . When that time comes, sir, you'll know it, and so will I." The message ended, and partly bemused, Sheridan sat back in the chair again. Admittedly, it was good to know that William was doing okay...but *that* message raised more questions then answers.
Typical.
* * *
June 5th, 2259.
Gideon winced. The headache, and the faint yammering noise at the back of his head, were both back again. It was happening more and more often just lately...especially after his curiousity had gotten the better of him, and he'd stuck his finger inside the Organization's package just over a week before, and had gotten that vision.
He shook his head, bemused at his own thoughts. At the time, he had calmly enough told himself that it didn't matter, that only his increasing prosperity mattered. But now..
The yammering refused to go away, or the headache, and Gideon suddenly realized what it must mean. Oh so classic, so vaudevilian. He sat down. My damn conscience is reaching out and putting the screws to my head, he thought.
The voice of his conscience grew louder. What if...an image ran through his mind, an image of his last conversation with Vendant. On the fringes of that vision, a slim, well dressed man had been retreating into the Zocalo crowd. It meant something...and something else, the memory of a whining, buzzing sound in his mind, every once in a while when he had been in Vendant's presence.
Another memory passed through his mind, a memory he thought he had banished forever, but for his suddenly awoken conscience. Zathras had said something, all those months ago, what had it been??
Yes...
<Enemy unseen, yes, except when they want it, Zathras know. Behind the scenes, you would say...(tck)...yes, indeed.>
<Why are you telling me this? I don't want to know.>
A shaking of head. <Very sad to see, but Zathras not waste his time. Sooner or later, Enemy will touch you again, inevitable.>
Gideon abruptly came back to the present, and shook his head. It couldn't be...it just *couldn't*!
Or could it? And if so, what would happen if he confronted Vendant and Corrolan about his doubts?
Gideon shook his head. If it was true...then the past three months had been a very private daydream, and by allowing his wishes to take hold, he might have gotten himself very deeply into trouble. Damn. And if Will and Jen had been right!...
He had to act. But not yet. Now was certainly *not* the time to ask. But now his eyes were a *little* more open(to what *might* be the truth) Gideon would pay attention, oh yes, he would. And when the chance came, he would ask. But not yet; only a few more days...
* * *
June 14th, 2259...Narn orbital space.
Will stolidly watched, and Jennie shivered, as less then a kilometre above the descending shuttle, two massive red and silver Narn heavy cruisers passed them by. And brand new, by the look of it.
"They're going to keep on fighting, even to the bitter end." his love whispered in his ear, "And they won't accept what's coming until it's far too late, for any of them."
He nodded grimly. The job that Sinclair had sent them here to do was going to be difficult enough without that problem included...but it was there. The Ka'rhi and the Warleaders of the Regime thought in terms that he did not understand fully as of yet...in that, the Narn were still alien. But there was also no point in speaking up and warning them...they would laugh, and say, 'by G'quan, human, you are a fool!', right up until the Shadows returned, and blew their oh-so-impressive fleet out of the water.
That was *equally* inveitable. Sooner or later, the Centauri would grow impatient...and when they did, the final blow would fall.
* * *
"Ah!" G'kael exclaimed, as the three he had parted ways with on Babylon 5 so many days before entered his quarters under the red glare of the slowly setting sun. "So!...before I ask how you have been, I suppose I will have to deal with the recrimanatory remarks about what happened, yes?"
William briefly gripped his good shoulder, eyes knowing, and then shook his head. "You and the rest made the choice you needed to, G'kael. Even if I had been present to argue about it with you, which I wasn't, you would have gone anyways, and the outcome would have been the same."
G'kael nodded, unsurprised. "You *have* changed, Westcastle, and I would say for the better..but that is just *personal* observation, feel more then free to disagree with me, if you wish to argue for old time's sake!."
A smile. "I won't. It's what we needed to do, and you know it...since you just about *pushed* us into it."
"Ahhh...you go too far. Enough." G'kael turned. "And you, Jennifer Clifford! I see your prized hair has almost returned to its natural colour... but *you* look even harder then this other human here."
Jennie briefly colored, and then, sober again, she nodded. "I came far, In Valen's Name...farther then any of us." Just for a second, the sight of a tiny silver object flashed into G'kael's vision in her hand, and then was gone again. G'kael nodded.
"Impressive that you earned that right...quite impressive!...but not surprising. Enough of this, the time of greetings is over; let us be down to business, since I will assume you haven't come to Narn to simply 'say hello', as you kind says. There are *far* more important things going on."
"Agreed." William quickly withdrew a tiny object from his cloak, and set it up on the table nearby. "Now we can't be eavesdropped upon by normal means...let's talk."
"Ah, yes. So. Your leader has ordered you here to observe the course of the War, hasn't he?"
"Correct. But we cannot observe the war from here. We *have* to get to the lines, G'kael, and as soon as possible. *Can it be done*?"
He paused for a moment, and then nodded. "Not easily...but yes, it can be done. A *few* of the N'rothcka class vessels survive, even with battle fully joined, and Shipleader Ko'cha of the 'K'vel' is a close friend of mine. He will assist, and not ask questions...at least, not too many. The Service holds its secrets *closely*, as I'm sure you understand."
William said nothing, he merely inclined his head.
"Very well, then: spend a little time doing what you do...stalking clues, watching the signs on Narn...I'm sure you understand what I'm talking about. We cannot move yet, but we *will* move, when the time is right."
Jennie nodded, and before she turned to leave, she spoke one sentence, and one only:
"Then it is agreed...In Valen's Name."
* * *
June 15th, 2259. Very early morning.
A hiss of air moved across the desert surface of Narn, a hiss with a purpose. Days it had been, the Z'nipc told itself, but the quarry had at *last* returned to the surface of a world, even a world as cursed as this one would shortly be...the task of Testing could resume, all too soon.
Smiling a smile no one else could see, the Z'nipc moved out across the desert from the hiding place of its vessel, and once again, all fell silent.
* * *
Eyes dark, Brianna stood on the edge of this minor cleft in the surface of G'kael's world, while above, the stars slowly wheeled. The others had taken to bed long ago, but a resonance of Ulkesh's touch continued to rebound in her mind, even this long after, and at such a distance.
Impossible..but there it was. It seemed that for the Vorlons, very *little* was impossible.
And then, quite suddenly, she clasped one hand to her temple, and strived valiantly to stand against the stab of pain that entered her mind. *Something* was wrong. Something was...
Watching?
With a half snarl, she whirled...and saw nothing.
Wait. A shimmer of air on the edge of vision, dark on dark.
She frowned. Trouble. A flash of memory in her mind...
<#In between, the Watcher will be seen. Act...or die#">
Trouble indeed. There was something on Narn...watching them, waiting for them...TESTING them?? A Servant of the Enemy? All too likely, and she had, in one curious instant, felt its touch on her mind. Trouble was coming...
* * *
On the edge of vision, the human woman retreated, and a whisper of darkness fled across the landscape...a whisper which, if translated into human language, would have quite resembled a curse. The mind-witch had, by a stroke of luck(and something other) detected its touch. Things would be getting far more challenging...and soon. The Z'nipc rubbed its claws together. So be it. It enjoyed a challenge.
And soon enough, the Lords of Order would pay for their crimes...
* * *
William started out of sleep. A knock on the door?
Rising wearily, he strode across to the opening, and slid the door aside.
Oh...Hell. "Brianna. Whatever it is, can't it wait until morning?"
<No> He winced, and clasped a hand to his head. Brianna's eyes were dark...uncanny, against her auburn hair. "It cannot wait. I swore, months ago, to protect you and stand by your side against all comers. This is one such time. We have a problem, William...and it is a big one."
"Explain."
"No. Not here, and not now. We must get away from this place, and as fast as possible. We must convince G'kael and his ally to get us offworld, and then, we must come together with the Others in this area. This is a problem we *cannot* solve by ourselves.
We may need help...and you know *very* well who from."
* * *
June 16th, 2259. Babylon 5...
"So..." Corrolan mused, while across from him, Gideon stood his ground. "You accuse me of something quite surprising. But I suppose it had to happen...sooner or later."
"Is it the truth?" Gideon demanded, his voice a whip. "And if it is, I would know why you lied to me."
Corrolan smiled. "The truth is lost in shades of gray, my friend, you do know what the Vorlons say, don't you?"
"What?"
"That truth is a three-edged sword...their side, your side, and the *real* truth. Are you ready for the REAL truth, Walther? Because if you're not, you don't want to take this any farther then it's gone already."
"It's either one of two things that are going to happen now. You're going to tell me the truth...or I'm out. That is, *completely* out. This is the first time you haven't given me a reason to trust you, and maybe it'll be the last time...but maybe not, you never do know, do you? That's the way liars are."
Corrolan sighed."We need you, Walther. More then you know." Corrolan rose. "Very well...if you must know the truth, I cannot give it to you here. We have to go someplace...more interesting. Someplace where all the answers to all your questions can be found."
Gideon's mouth twisted. "And what, pray tell, is the name of this mythical place?"
"Not mythical, my friend...oh no, not at all." Corrolan turned for the door, and Gideon was forced to follow. "Not at all mythical, is the world named...*Z'ha'dum* As you'll find out...all too shortly."
* * *
Next: The battles of light against dark continue, both on the frontlines of the spreading Great War, and at the edge of the Night. Westcastle and the rest of his cadre face off against the deviousness of the Shadow Servant, while Gideon is exposed to the nightmare named...Z'ha'dum. "The Dark Side of the Soul", coming soon.