**"Forever in the back of my mind, during the course of the Shadow conflict, were the words that Major Ryan spoke to me, the day we seceded from the Earth Alliance; the day the ALEXANDER stood with us and kept Babylon 5 free...that the ALEXANDER and her crew were about to jump into the unknown, to find the rest of the commands in Earthforce that had broken away from President Clark and his New Order. I found myself wondering, from time to time, whether or not they had survived the chaos of the War; but then, on what was, up to that point, a day of calm, we received the welcome answer to that question..."**
- From John Sheridan's history of the times, 'No Retreat, No Surrender'
* * *
Babylon 5; C&C: February 25th, 2261;
It was another quiet day in Babylon 5's primary Command and Control Center; a state that many of the station's military staff had come to dread in the past several years, and Technician First Class Lyle Stevens was certainly one of those...for it nearly *always* meant the something terrible or momentous was about to happen.
He had, of course, chosen to side with the Captain when the station had broken away, and all through the times since then, nearly a year of worry in which each day might've been his last, Stevens had kept his priorities straight. What President Clark had done to the Earth Alliance was *wrong*, and sooner or later, the President or his followers would make a mistake and would be thrown out; and then maybe, he would be able to go home with a good conscience.
Not that this post hadn't been exciting, either; Stevens had seen some amazing and frightening sights in his time here; just in the last three months, he had seen warships of the Shadows threaten them, and the incredibly *massive* assembled fleet of the Younger Races surround them, before they followed the Captain to do the impossible. After that, he didn't think anything could throw him..
It was then that a beep from his station alerted him that something was up; something...unusual. One of the hyperspace probes the tech types had recently positioned beyond the jumpgate in hyperspace was picking up signs of an imbound ship...or maybe, more then one. Stevens sighed; the clouds of gravimetric chaos in hyperspace made it hard to tell, sometimes. But then, the closest, or, maybe, the only signal resolved itself with key purpose, and he gulped.
"Sir..." he spoke up with urgency, "We may have a problem."
His superior, Lieutenant David Corwin, who had (in Stevens's opinion) the uneviable task of being third in command at C&C behind the Captain and Commander Ivanova, turned in mid-step, and gazed down at him. "Report."
"The hyperspace probes have picked up...well, sir, it looks like there's an Earthforce destroyer within half an hour of jumping into Epsilon system...or maybe even more then one! It's hard to tell for sure, yet...hyperspace is fairly obscured right now, and the probes are having difficulty out there."
Corwin nodded, his calm expression now verging over into grim resolution. The Lieutenant sighed, and turned away from the tech, his mind roiling with the possible outcomes and causes for this crisis; maybe the powers at Earth weren't satisifed with just blockading them anymore...in any case, he knew what to do...quite well.
Corwin tapped his link. "C&C to Commander Ivanova..."
* * *
"Commander..." John Sheridan quite reasonably requested, as he arrived at C&C, to find the center in a near uproar, as the staff were juggling comm traffic from the fighter group commanders, requests for updates on the incoming vessels (it was now obvious that there *was* more then one) and orders to the Defense Grid maintenence crews, more or less simultaneously. "What's our status?"
Commander Susan Ivanova turned towards her CO, her expression showing *exactly* what she thought of this situation. "What this would *appear* to be, sir, is an invasion force, on a grand scale. The Starfuries have all been scrambled, the defense grid is online, and signals have been sent to the Minbari and the nearest elements of the White Star Fleet, they should arrive from their hyperspace staging area in time to engage this threat from behind.
In short, we're as ready to face this as we're ever going to be...sir."
Sheridan nodded seriously, but something about this situation seemed wrong, somehow... "Something like this has always been a possibility, Commander...but think on this for a moment; does it *make sense* for Clark to want to try something like this? Between the blockade that he's already imposed upon us, and the knowledge that the Minbari are standing by, ready to protect us, why attack now?"
Ivanova was about to answer that question, when one of the techs in the pit below looked up at them, an expression almost of *shock* on his face. "Sir! There's a message coming in from the lead destroyer. It's the *ALEXANDER*, sir!"
"*What*?" he exclaimed, as beside him, Ivanova *visibly* began to relax. "Well, I'll be damned..."
"Well, sir..." Ivanova reminded him, "You *did* tell Major Ryan that he would always be welcome here, did you not? It would appear that the Major is about to take you up on that invitation."
Sheridan moved to the main board, and with a nod from the tech, looked down, as the familiar face of Major Ryan appeared. "Major!...to what do we owe this visit?"
"Captain." the Major replied, a slight smile on his face. "Now that the situation with the Shadow and the Vorlon threat has been resolved, we thought that it would be common courtesy to pay you a visit."
Sheridan and Ivanova exchanged slightly bemused glances. Now *how* had the Major found about the Shadows? Unless, of course, the ALEXANDER had encountered one or more of their ships while in hiding, but in that case, how might they have survived the encounter? "More then common, Major...as I said, last year, you've always been welcome, here."
Ryan nodded. "Thank you, Captain; stand by, we're coming in."
As one, Sheridan and Ivanova looked up, as the distant jump gate came online, and spit out the familiar, and now welcome, silouette of an Omega Class Destroyer.
It was then, that two surprising things happened simultaneously.
First, one of the techs, (was Stevens his name?) looked up, and exclaimed, "Well I'll be...Sir! There's..."
And then, Ryan, who, paradoxically, had kept the channel open, added, "Oh, and by the way, Captain; we've bought a few friends along for the ride."
The jumpgate irised open again, and Sheridan watched, first in astonishment, and then in appreciation, as the equivalent of half a dozen overstrength Earthforce carrier groups erupted from the gate...
"A few?" Ivanova exclaimed. "Did he say *a few*?"
Sheridan nodded, as out in the darkness, the cluster of destroyers and cruisers continued their approach, behind the ALEXANDER. "That he did, Commander... *that* he did."
"Then, sir, I wouldn't want to see his opinion on the definition of 'many'."
Sheridan smiled, and then turned his attention back to the screen. "I'm going to have to assume, from the fleet following you in, Major, that your mission to find the rest of the ships set against President Clark was a success?"
"Yes, Captain; I believe you could say that. But the officer *most* responsible for holding us together, through thick and thin, with threats from the Shadows and a dozen other things, besides, is someone you will be meeting shortly. You do know her, however, Captain, let's just leave it at that, for now. ALEXANDER out."
Sheridan thought about that for a moment, and then sighed. "Commander, it would appear that you are about to meet yet another of my oldest aquaintances..."
"This is a good thing, then, sir?"
"Time will tell, Commander; time will tell, indeed! But for now, we'd probably better tell the Minbari and the Rangers that the crisis is over."
* * *
White Star Four.
William gazed out on the display of military power presently arrayed around Babylon 5, and felt himself relax yet a little bit more. After the League had withdrawn their ships back to their own territories, it had been his opinion that the station had become a little bit too vulnerable. But *now*, between the Minbari and the squadron of Earthforce cruisers and destroyers on station, he could proceed on the mission he had been given by Delenn with a clearer conscience.
While they knew, quite well, what had happened at Z'ha'dum, it was, at the same time, completely *unclear* what the situation was in the abandoned portions of Vorlon space. After much discussion, the Entil'zha had authorized a brief reconnaissance into the former Vorlon territories, but had emphasisized the extreme danger of such a mission, for prior to their dissapearance, no one member of the younger races who had gone into Vorlon space had ever returned.
The reasons for this were unclear, and would likely now never be answered, but he had assured the Entil'zha that they would not try and probe towards the heart of the former Empire; instead, it was his intention to, instead, locate and board one of their former observation posts or stations, if such an installation could be located, and attempt to begin determining if anything in Vorlon space was a threat to the current, fragile peace. To that end, Delenn had assigned him a group of six White Stars, among them, Tashann's command.
Beside him, Jennifer finished conferring with their Minbari crew, and then turned to him. "Do you suppose that Julia's mother will want to see her?"
He smiled. "Almost certainly; whether or not the elder Tikopai will be yet again surprised by the changes in her daughter is another question entirely..."
* * *
"Ah!" G'kar exclaimed, as G'kael entered the arrivals sector of the station with his ever present aide, N'rothak, closely in tow, looking about him with, it seemed, some sort of grim appraisal. "There you are, G'kael, at last!"
"Greetings, old friend.." G'kael replied, stepping forward to walk beside him. "It is a pleasure, after such a long absence, to return to Babylon 5. We have both been through so much since the last occasion I found time to visit this place; and now, with my duties as one of the senior members in the new Kha'rhi becoming paramount, my advisors did not, as you may quite *well* understand, want me to come here. It was *their* opinion that, instead, I should devote every waking minute to reviving the State, and helping the people..."
"Ah..." G'kar replied, his expression both serious and amused at the same time. "I will assume, from your presence here, what your response to that was."
"Precisely." G'kael sighed, and turned his good eye to look upon the surroundings. "So simple a place this is, to be at the focus of so much destiny, and yet, G'kar, you have stood at the heart of this whirlwind, and survived."
G'kar nodded. "Long ago, G'kael, I was given cause to pass on a certain piece of advice; I will now say the same again, to you...nothing of this place is what it at first appears. It is a place of hope, and helps, even now, to create a better future for us all.
And to that end, please let me return to the main reason I invited you here. The human doctor who works here, Franklin is his name, assured me that he would be able to help me with my own condition; I *strongly* believe that he might be able to improve your own condition, as well, now that the war is ended."
G'kael sighed, and shook his head, before bringing one of his hands up to touch the smooth burn scars on the left side of his face. "I have existed with my condition for a long time now, G'kar, resigned to the belief that nothing more could be done. The plasma fire burned out not only my eye, but virtually all of the optic nerve, as well...unlike your own admittedly similar situation. The physicians explained that not enough remained to replace my eye with an artificial replacement, had one *even* been available at the time to match my system, which due to the realignment of priorities during the War, it was not. And as for my burn scars, they did all they could..."
"Bah! The physicians on Homeworld did not *care* enough, G'kael! You cannot compare them to the doctor I know in Stephen Franklin. He *will* be able to help you, this I am sure of!"
"Very well, old friend.." G'kael conceded with a smile, as the two of them entered the lift. "Very well. We will go to see this Doctor Franklin, then, to satisfy your hopes for my improvement."
G'kar nodded, now satisfied. "That is *all* that I ask, G'kael...for now."
* * *
Captain Sheridan's office.
The meeting, when it happened, was a meeting that set many things that would follow in motion. Things that would not happen, right away, but they were key events, nontheless. A meeting of survivors, a rendezvous between two officers of command who had met, for the first time, after the surprising end of the Earth-Minbari War, for so few had survived the Battle of the Line, that the ties between the survivors had become stronger, as a result.
At the time of their first meeting, she had just been promoted to Lieutenant Commander, while he, on the quick route towards mastery of his own ship, was already a Commander. They had passed messages, from time to time, over the years since then as aquaintances in the Force, and even, on one occasion, their destroyers had passed in the night, scant months after she had taken command of the NIOBE...she inbound, he outbound, with the AGAMEMNON, towards the Rim.
And now, they were meeting again, their roles changed beyond all expectations.
Sheridan smiled and rose from his seat, as she entered the office, and she shook her head in amazement. Yet another effect of the war was how John Sheridan had suffered, after all that he had (presumably) done, to stop the Shadows. Whereas his hair had been a pale brown the last time she had seen him, now it was liberallly streaked with silver; something that might, no doubt, be waiting just around the corner for her, before this was all over...
"Captain Tikopai." Sheridan began, gesturing her to the seat in front of his desk, and then he shook his head, and smiled. "Hell, I guess we're beyond that, now...Bethany, I have to say that I was surprised when the Major finally revealed who was responsible for pulling all those ships outside, together; but it *is* good to see you again...good to know that you're standing against President Clark's tyranny, as well, along with so many others."
She nodded firmly. "It's good to see you, too, John...and amazing, all in itself, that we could come here, after all that's happened, and still find Babylon 5 intact!"
"By the way..." Sheridan inquired, "Just how *did* you and the others find out about the Shadows?"
"It's a long story, but to cut things short, after we escaped from the traps laid for us by President Clark's forces, we were guided to a middle-of-nowhere post named Narhlak by the Rangers, where the survivors of the Narn warfleet had also gathered, under the leadership of an Intelligence Master named G'kael. G'kael explained to us what was going on out in the galaxy, explained things we would never have found out by going the direct route, and for the months that the Shadows and Vorlons went on their rampage, we sheltered there. But now that's all over, my captains and I decided that the first place we should come, before we do anything else, was here.
And the prime reason for that, John, is to determine what your thoughts are on the situation back home, and your opinion on what we should be doing for the time being. While my fleet looks damn impressive, there's still an awful lot more ships loyal to Clark..."
"And therein lies the heart of our problem..." Sheridan replied, his expression now serious. "As long as Clark controls the loyalties of those ships, until he does something that undermines that loyalty, we're both stuck with essentially the same problem."
She nodded. "Blockaded or outgunned, and because of that, not given the slightest concern, because they *know* neither of us are in a position to do anything to change the situation back home! And if we tried to attack now, they'd simply set an overwhelming force against us, and the last hope of Earth would be lost. I won't let that happen, John!...too many good people depend on my word to let the fleet come to that fate."
"I'm not going to argue with you...in fact, I've faced a similar situation, here on Babylon 5, for some time now. And as for what I think you should do...I'm going to advise you to do something that your crews may not like. For now, we have to play a waiting game, because sooner or later, Clark is *going* to mess up, and when he does...when he does, Bethany, that will be the time when you and your followers will *all* be needed the most. But before then, maybe we can think of a way to keep Clark off balance, somehow..."
"Exactly what I was thinking...but I really needed to hear it from you, John; more then anything else, reassurance is something that we often don't get, up in the lonely heights of command."
Sheridan conceded her point. "You have *no* idea how accurate that has been for us, here, no *idea* what I had to go through to reach this ending...in the years to come, if we both survive, maybe we can tell one another what brought us to this meeting place; the crises and the pain we'be both been through; but that time's not now. In fact, for *right* now, the rest of my staff, and a good deal of yours as well, or so I understand, is waiting in a fine establishment named Earhart's, to share a drink with us." Sheridan rose, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. "That is, if you're so inclined?"
She smiled, and rose to follow him. "Lead on, and I shall follow!"
* * *
The next day...
"Well, now..." Dr. Franklin commented, as he looked at the results of the tests, with G'kar and G'kael waiting nearby, one with expectation, one with resignation, "As far as I can tell, G'kael, the work your physicians did on you after you were injured wasn't all bad; but it seemed to have been a bit rushed, somehow..."
G'kael nodded. "Quite right, Doctor; we were then on the verge of the worst conflict we had ever faced, and our leaders, at the time, knew this quite well. They were more interested in getting me back on my feet and useful then in getting the healing perfect, and to be honest, at the time, I felt the same way, not that it really helped any. In hindsight, I would have insisted that they spend more time on the problem, but that is that, and this is now, Doctor."
"As I was saying..." Doctor Franklin added, a slight smile at one corner of his mouth, "While the work they did on you was a bit rushed, G'kael, that doesn't mean that nothing more *can* be done..."
"As you are well aware, Doctor, conditions on Homeworld are not, shall we say, well attuned to work of this kind. Too many of my people died or were terribly injured during the fall of Narn for my condition to be a prime concern. And yet, my good friend G'kar insisted that I come to see you about this..."
"And quite rightly, so. As one of the members of the new Kha'rhi, it's onoly right for you to be as near to perfect health as possible; and while the long delay since your injuries were received makes a full recovery impossible, G'kar was right; it will take some preparing to arrange, and it won't be right away, but I'm quite sure we can do something about your missing eye, and your scars."
G'kael blinked. "What did you just say, Doctor?"
"What did he just say?" G'kar exclaimed. "It should be *quite* clear, G'kael, what was just said. He said that something *could* be done, as will, in due course, be done for me! He has great respect for our kind and is equally fair to all, and, I believe, would consider it somewhat of a challenge to help in this respect!"
"Is this true?" G'kael asked Doctor Franklin.
Franklin nodded. "Hell, yeah, it's true. If there's anything I can do for you, G'kael, anyway I can help out someone who is obviously been a close friend to G'kar over the years, then yeah, I'll do it."
"Thank you, Doctor! Thank you, indeed!"
"Now what was that you said about 'no hope'?" G'kar asked him, as they left the Medlab.
* * *
The Ranger Compound.
Bethany gazed around the interior of the Garden with some appreciation; the vastness of Babylon 5's interior was something she had never before found time to appreciate; in fact, this was the *first* time she had ever seen it in person. But the reason she had come here, today, was not to sightsee, but to once again meet a daughter seperated from her by space and time...
"Captain Tikopai." she turned, to see a young Minbari approach. "My name is Larieken, and the commander of the Rangers in this place has sent me to take you to your daughter."
"And what of William Westcastle and his companions? Aren't they here?"
Larieken shook his head. "Regretfully, that is not so, at the present time. Ranger Westcastle's duties as one of the commanders in the White Star Fleet do not often leave him time to be in one place for long, even though this place *is* special to him."
She nodded. "I understand; it will be enough to see my daughter, for now."
"Then follow me, please, Captain." With that said, Larieken guided her into one of the crystalline towers of the Ranger district, up several stories, and into an area well peopled with many Rangers and younger Trainees, moving about their business. In the courtyard below, she could see a group of them in some sort of martial practice...the learning never stopped, it seemed.
Abruptly, the young Minbari turned aside, and entered a large chamber, wherein a number of Rangers, both young and old, were in the midst of practicing, some with their deadly pikes, and some with other, simpler weapons. After a moment, a moment almost of disorientation, she picked out the figure of her daughter, in the far corner, working with another human, short staff in hand...
It came hard, then, how much time had passed, how much of Julia's life she had missed, for her daughter was now no longer the girl she remembered, from the memories of the past. Of the few times she had taken leaves on Earth to see her, of the many times that girl had yelled at her, her expression one of rage and frustration; and who could blame her for that response? She had been there for her, so little...hadn't been able to see her intelligence blossom into the fire it was now...
And it seemed that Julia was well on her way to becoming a woman; in fact, she seemed *far* older then her thirteen and some years would indicate...but how could that be possible?
Possible or not, it seemed to be the case, somehow, for she appeared as would a girl of sixteen or seventeen, at the very least!
It was then that Julia noticed her, of course; setting her staff aside, she approached, slowly and calmly...but in the last few feet, the calm approach became a run, and then, to her shock, by the time her daughter reached her, she was crying.
It took a good long time for her to calm down after that; but then, they sat down together, and Julia began to talk; began to tell her the story of what had happened, in the long, long months since she had left Earth, at the instigation of the Resistance, and even in the months since she had seen her last, at the side of the Ranger, William Westcastle.
And as the hours passed, and they sat first beneath the lights of the Garden, and then, beneath the set of candles in Julia's quarters, the story as told both astonished, and terrified her.
For it was all true; it had to be, Julia would never tell her lies...and it told her many things, some she didn't want to hear.
Was *this* the destiny that waited for her? A life continually at the heart of the Fire, near to movers, shapers, thinkers and doers?? It would seem so, for between adventures beyound her wildest dreams, a near death experience at the hands of those who had worked for the banished Shadows, impossible manipulations at the hands of their opposites, the Vorlons, and a destiny to become what Julia called an 'Observer' it seemed certain that her daughter was going to go places that she would never go.
And it was for that reason that this short time together was so precious. For soon enough, they would be dragged apart by their destinies once again, and who knew when next they would meet, and under what conditions?
* * *
Log of Commander, White Star 4, February 27th, 2261.
What we do, this day, is something that will stay a secret, for some time to come. It is a daring move on our part, a move that has a slight chance of ending in disaster, but the Entil'zha would not have ordered us to do this. if she hadthought we would all die on such a simple graze of Vorlon space...it's not, after all, as if we're jumping directly into their heart worlds, wherever those might be.
Vorlon space is an enormous swath of territory, bordering all that we know, seperating us from the unknowable stars and nebulas beyond the spiral arm's edge, farther towards the Galactic core. Sooner or later, the Younger Races will send expeditions into their abandoned territories, probably not this year, but *very* likely the next, to discover the truths of what they left behind. But that's not our job, for among the doctrines that we learned at Tuzanor was that it always pays to be careful; and this we will be.
Now, if only what we were told by Lorien is true, the Vorlons should be gone from the outposts along their territory. In any case, we're about to find out whether or not that's true...
* * *
With caution, the small group of White Stars approached the large planetoid upon which was emplaced a Vorlon base and observation post, similar in nature to the one that they had destroyed, along with Captain Sheridan, on the way to Corianna 6, weeks before. William looked upon the base with no small trepidation, for it had been difficult enough to simply *reach* this spot.
The difficulty was one of position; for it seemed that while the Vorlons had sent their transports through jumpgates, when available, there were *no* jumpgates of any kind in Vorlon Space, even along its edge, and this meant that the White Stars had been required to do a great many skip-jumps through the gravitational morass of hyperspace in order to find the site they needed.
But now, they *were* here.
Kilometer by kilometer, they closed the distance, and the initial impression received seemed to be the correct one. The post itself seemed to be silent and completely without activity; in fact, the planetoid itself was now tumbling slowly, something he was sure the Vorlons would not have put up with, for that tumble spoke *loudly* of Chaos.
"It would appear..." Jennie reported, her gaze severe, as she went over the results coming into them from the probes they had launched into orbit around the post, "That not only have they completely abandoned this site, but they took anything and everything with them that could possibly generate energy sources, as well. That station's almost cooled to ambient temperature."
At that, he turned to Brianna, who was, as she had been ever since they had jumped out in this system, scanning telepathicallly for any signs of Vorlon presence. "Brianna?"
"There's nothing there..." Brianna reported, her voice low, and drawn out. "I've searched carefully...but they're all gone, them *and* all they were, and owned." At that, the telepath turned her full gaze onto him. "It's a shell, as far I can tell; a shell that was once living; *they* seemed to have deactivated it in their departure, for they could not take it with them, no matter that they wished it to be so."
"When you're referring to Vorlon technology..." Jennifer commented, her eyes narrowed, "Wouldn't 'deactivation' mean the same thing as 'death'?"
"I wasn't going to say it..." Brianna replied. "But it would *seem* that it is safe for us to send out recon fighters for a closer pass above the base."
William nodded, and after a short pause and an order in the Religious Caste tongue, a single Minbari Nial Class fighter leapt away from each White Star, and descended towards the base. A period of time followed in which the fighters made repeated low passes over the yellow domes, and all that they returned seemed to agree with the initial findings. No lights could be seen, no energy signatures...nothing at all.
* * *
Soon after that, a group of specialized flyers descended to the surface of the planetoid, and the true state of the base became more clear to them. For it seemed that the Vorlons had, indeed, sacrificed some of their living servants in the enormously quick pullout.
William tried to imagine the sheer scale of such a departure, and failed; even though the fleet he had seen at Corianna 6 had been enormous, it seemed clear that all they had seen had only, perhaps, been the Military arm of the Vorlon Race; for their *entire* race to depart, would surely have meant that the departure fleets from the Empire would have numbered in the millions of vessels.
And some of what they could not take with them had, no doubt, been sacrificed, as a result. In due course, he supposed, someone would reach the surface of a Vorlon colony world to see first hand what sort of structures they built, and those structures, as living cities might even be able to survive from the planetary atmosphere itself, and generate their own energy sources, while partially dependent on their planetary environments.
But in facing the final farewell, might not have some of their servant creatures, ships and bases...in the realization that they would *never* see their masters again...have *maybe*, just maybe committed suicide, rather then live on, alone forever?
This presupposed intelligence in some or all of their structures, but their ships had surely had such, as events on Babylon 5 has shown, in the past few years. What could not be proven, could only be guessed at.
William reached out one suited hand to touch the outer wall of one of the domes. Close up, it could be seen that there were great flakes of something very like *skin* peeling away from the domes, and drifting off into space. Since their arrival, several hours before, the occurence had clearly increased in scope. In addition, from place to place, one could see great rents in the structures, and into this, a short time before, he had sent a team of Rangers to investigate.
What they had learned was, unfortunately, not very much. In their departure, the Vorlons had evidently taken with them just about anything and everything they could. The interior of the dome investigated seemed to have somewhat of a fractal nature, with passages curving in and breaking up into smaller and smaller avenues, some straight, some jagged, such enormously wide and and high, some only about a meter across. The pattern was unknowably strange and alien, but was this *truly* a surprise? But all through the interior, the evidence of decay was also quite clear.
"To come so far..." Jennie mused sadly, "And see this."
"Tragedy." Brianna finished up for her, her gaze bitter under the light of the distant stars. "Of all of you, I saw them the clearest, was given a glimpse of their true nature. You have to understand that the relationship they and their servants had was closer then love, more then anything we can possibly imagine. What would you think, what would you do, if those you loved more then life itself were about to leave you, forever?
This base evidently decided it could not face such a fate. I don't blame it for what it did...but our orders were clear, Sha'vei. Evaluate a Vorlon observation post, and move on to the next target in our assigned exploration patrol.
As much as you would like to go deeper into their territory, that could only end badly, for all of us."
He nodded, and as they made ready to return to the White Star 4, he looked about the landscape one last time. A landscape of lost hope, a graveyard of life lost.
And what was worst about the whole situation was that *they*, the Younger Races, had, for all intents and purposes, helped to bring this about.
While they were not the murderers, they were, certainly, the instigators.
To be continued...
* * *
Next time: While Bethany continues to deal with the shocks of what Julia told her about the last few months of her life, and gives Sheridan a little bit of help, William, Jennifer and their exploration group make a startling discovery in the ruins of a shattered world, while the Drakh find out, in a message left by their masters, exactly how much trouble the Rimstalker and his companions, both young and adult, could pose for them, in the months and years yet ahead.
Coming soon...
RIMSTALKER: THE RIDERS ON THE STORM; PART 8
"THE STARS OF THE CAPTAINS" ACT II OF II
**"Even in the pauses between great movements were the Rangers continually dealing with events that hardly anyone else wanted or needed to know about, and key to this period was the extensive series of reconnaissance missions that the White Star Fleet performed in the spring of 2261. At the heart of it all, deep on the Rim with the rest of his commands, Westcastle, as we know from his detailed Chronicles Log history of the entire Great War conflict, managed, it seemed, almost despite himself, to attract the attention of unwanted danger.
Then again, was this true, or can we *instead* surmise that not unlike John Sheridan, Westcastle couldn't stop himself from walking boldly out onto the outthrust crag of danger, all, of course, in Valen's Name?"**
- excerpt from 'The Peace between the Moments' the post-Shadow War volume of "Holding The Line: A History of the Army of Light"
* * *
Captain's Log, Earth Alliance Omega Class Destroyer NIOBE; February 28th, 2261.
I'm writing this now to get it all out of my head, because I can scarcely believe that any of it's true!! My God, I understood, almost a year ago now, that Julia had aligned herself with these Rangers, in the service of Light...in many respects, I thought, like our battle against President Clark. But now?...now, I'm not so sure, anymore.
G'kael tried to make it real for us, of course, but let's be frank, shall we? All the Narns and Humans who hid out at Narhlak didn't come *close* to feeling and seeing what anyone who was caught up in the War's midst, did. The tale she told me was proof enough that legends are born the hard way...Hell, it seems that sometimes you even have to come back from the dead to get the job done right.
Analysis:
First: my daughter, at less then thirteen years of age, but seemingly far older and more mature then that, due to, it *seems*, the intervention of the first Vorlon Ambassador to Babylon 5, swears allegiance to serve another, in the name of Valen, of all things! This woman, a woman I have met, is an 'Observer', fated to record for all time the events of the Wars just past, and still ahead of us.
Then: my daughter, in the service of this woman, is shot in the side and nearly *killed* on Minbar, by human agents working for these Shadow things, an injury she recovers from, having chosen to dwell where medical tech is a millenium ahead of Earth's.
Her Observer, it seems, was kidnapped and taken to the Shadow homeworld, and of *course*, William Westcastle just *had* to follow her, there; sometimes, I think, love is just too much trouble for its own good. Later on, they get back to Babylon 5 right around the same time as John, who, as I now also know, went to this Z'ha'dum place as well, to face the Shadows. It's just amazing what leaks out after a few drinks and a lot of talk in Earhart's, sitting with someone with whom you survived the end of the Earth-Minbari War...
Not, of course, doing the same things, mind you.
Query to self: are they all, perhaps, a little crazy? And is the craziness spreading down to the next generation?
Then: The event that we learned about out at Narhlak happens; John pulls together the largest fleet that *anyone* has ever seen, and boots both the Shadows and the Vorlons out beyond Kingdom Come. Julia *insisted* that a being named 'Lorien' was the one most responsible for helping out with the booting out part. Julia, of course, manages to make it onto the bridge of a White Star during the mother of all battles, and *somehow* lives to tell the tale.
Now: We have my daughter, Shadow War Veteran, martial arts trainee, with enormous emotional problems as a result of falling in with Legends.
Summary: Julia, formerly a well behaved, if sparklingly intelligent young girl, is now on her way to becoming a Ranger, giving me plenty of gray hairs, *and* finding her way to the heart of every trouble spot there is, mostly courtesy of a chain reaction of her serving Jennifer Clifford, who serves William Westcastle, who, in turn, serves John and the Ranger commander, the Minbari Delenn.
Final comment #1: I have got to be *out* of my mind to let her do this.
Final Comment #2: If I tried to stop her from doing this, I can just *imagine* what her response would be.
Final Comment #3: Those damn Tikopai genes strike again.
* * *
March 1st, 2261...V'cha'rijan system, the edge of the former Vorlon Empire.
Once, not so long in the past, there had been a living world here, a world of almost a billion sentient beings; a world whose race had found a hope in tomorrow, and a belief that they could reach out and touch the stars. The roots of this hope had been founded, almost five hundred of their years before, when the first visitation from those they could see only as *angels* occurred.
Prior to the arrival of their benefactors, the V'cha'richae had been a species near ready to tear itself apart; but as time passed, and the message of the angels had spread, they had put their weapons down, and turned their purposes toward other matters, learning of technology, and then, spaceflight. First they had explored their system with simple mechanical vessels, robot eyes poring and staring, and then, *finally*, they had gone, themselves...their first destination, the largest moon of their lush blue and green world.
Over a short period of time, a modest base had been constructed there, and then, the V'cha'richae, to their astonishment, had met another race of relative peace; the Minbari. Over a short period of time, and with Vorlon help, they were able to learn the basics of one of the Minbari tongues, and a dialogue was established.
It seemed, indeed, that their stars were rising brightly, and soon enough, plans were made for other bases on more distant moons and planets in their system. But all the plans in existence could not predict what had happened then, as even their benefactors were sucked into the maelstrom of what would, soon enough, be called the Shadow War.
And now, all was ruin.
Five weeks into the past, as measured by the revolution of a tiny blue world around a distant yellow sun; a world that had given rise to a race that had shook the pillars of heaven themselves (or so the V'cha'richae would think it) Armageddon and darkness had descended upon them; Armageddon in the form of a gigantic black cloud, its scream, a scream of death. The expedition members had watched in horror as this *thing* had descended upon and surrounded their *home*, and then, quite literally, torn it apart.
When the black cloud departed, a hour later, the horrified survivors could see that the End had come. Their world was *gone*, replaced by a glowing cloud of red and white-hot rock, great cooling fragments of rock spinning in space.
It seemed certain that they *were* the last survivors of their race; a terrible burden to bear.
Some of them did not take this very well; two of the twenty who had been lucky enough to survive (or, if you looked at it another way, maybe *not*) decided to leave the Universe behind; but the rest vowed that while their home had been destroyed by the evil their benefactors had warned them about, that their race *would* continue...if they had to repopulate from this base, spread out over the surface of the moon, and from there, out to the stars that had mocked them so harshly, they would *not* give up.
Time passed, and things grew difficult; the leaders of the station grew bleaker and bleaker, as they realized that sometimes, even hopes and vows could not overcome the sheer problem of lack of *material resources*.
And then, just as some among them were ready to give up, a miracle occurred. For the distress signal they had been sending ever since the disaster, a message in Minbari, for their benefactors could also understand it, was finally about to be responded to...
* * *
White Star 4.
"Jump out complete." Talion reported, and then he, like the rest on the bridge caught sight of the devastation ahead of them. Among averted gazes, prayers for the fallen, and much more, William sat silently, his eyes full of pain, while Jennie reached up to wipe away the tear that had, somehow, appeared at the corner of one eye. All across the heavens, in a sphere already nearly a quarter of a million kilometers across, were the shards and remnants of what had once been a living world.
"A billion sentients lived here!..." Tashann ground out, his voice full of outrage and sadness even through the holoimage. "They had done *nothing* to harm anyone around them, Sha'vei! Full of hope, they had only begun to reach out to us, with the help of the Vorlons, when..."
"When Darkness descended, and they found no mercy..." William finished for him. "The Shadows didn't care about those hopes and dreams, they only wanted to make sure the message was wiped from their sight. After all, since the V'cha'richae had been helped by the Vorlons, they must have been 'part' of the problem."
"All right, gentlemen.." Jennifer interrupted, voice tart. "That's quite enough, for the time being! Remember, the key purpose we've come here for?...to determine if there were any survivors?"
Tashann visibly composed himself, and nodded briskly. "It is as you say, Jennifer; forgive me for my outburst. By far the likeliest location for any survivors in the system will be on the primary moon; there is evidence that the V'cha'richae established a base there, in the recent past. Unfortunately, many asteroidal fragments may have impacted on the satellite by now; we should not, as you say, hope for very much."
William spoke a single phrase in Minbari, and as one, the White Stars twisted in mid flight and began to wind among the many fragments, large and small, that remained of the world, until the satellite appeared on the far side of the debris cloud. Behind them, Talion nodded in satisfaction. "There is a distress signal emitting from the satellite's surface, Sha'vei; shall we intercept that location?"
"We should do so, at all speed." Tashann warned. "Analysis indicates that a fragment more then six hundred of your kilometers across is on a collision course with the satellite, and will collide with it in slightly more then a Cycle; we must save them now, or they will not survive."
William nodded. "Make it so."
* * *
Elsewhere...
In between the stars, there the Night could be found.
And also, for now, the Drakh.
But only for now.
Homeless, masterless, they had, at first, been without direction, until elements within their Great Councils had learned of events that had transpired on Centauri Prime in recent times; it was then that one decision had been arrived at, and plans set in motion, all aided by the luckless Regent that Mollari had installed there. Mollari would, himself, be punished for the crimes he had committed against the Masters; but that was for the future, not for now.
Additionally, the Ruling Caste made a second decision; the paths between gates were, as all knew, quiet for the time being. It made sense, on a limited basis, to deploy a small force of Warrior Caste to harrass the Younger Races, to capture, and torture, and cause fear. The Ruling Drakh liked this idea very much, indeed.
Of course, there was always the chance that their enemies, the humans lead by the one named *Sheridan* (now *that* one would suffer the most, in the end) or the Minbari lead by *Delenn* would come; in fact, the Ruling Drakh decided, it would be just if Delenn could be drawn into a situation where the Warriors could destroy her. Plans for such were also put in motion; the Ruling Drakh observed what they knew, and smiled; for there appeared to be a growing amount of unrest among the Minbari Castes...this, too, could be used, to further their aims, plans and ideals.
And finally, the Ruling Drakh were given cause to ponder a mysterious message that one of their couriers had passed on to the Great Councils, upon his arrival in the Fleet. A message passed on to the courier by their Masters, before they had followed the Oldest One, without protest, beyond the Rim. Still, the Ruling Drakh chafed at this, and tried to understand why it had happened, but the Message was of equal concern and portent, for now, and for the future.
It seemed that a great deal of the events that had transpired at the hands of their enemies had come about due to the aid and manipulations of a certain group of Minbari and Humans that went by the name of *Rangers*. Delenn, it seemed, if reports were to be believed, was the head of these Rangers; indeed, the blindingly fast and small warships that worked for their enemies were, if all rumours were to be believed, Ranger vessels, as well.
But also among the concerns passed on by their departed Masters had been that among the Rangers, there existed a group lead by one who was known as Westcastle, or, in hated whispers, the *Rimstalker*. The Ruling Drakh were able, after much discussion, to determine that this Westcastle was most likely what they called a Destined Soul; Sheridan was another, such. However, while Sheridan acted openly in many things, the Ranger named Rimstalker moved forever behind the scenes, unseen; and those who followed him had done many great things, in the service of Light.
The Ruling Drakh debated all of these points in great depth; to have all of these enemies laid upon them, in one lifetime was almost too much to bear! But they could make plans...long plans, for the Drakh had forever been patient, when it came to revenge. Sooner or later, they would bring both Sheridan *and* Westcastle, as well as Delenn, Mollari and all of their followers, to their knees to beg for their lives.
A plea that the Ruling Drakh would summarily ignore.
With a motion of hands, all was set in motion.
The future awaited.
* * *
Babylon 5.
"As I'm sure you're quite aware..." Sheridan commented, as he and Bethany walked towards the Docking Bays, "The problems we're having with supply lines ever since President Clark imposed his blockade aren't making our jobs any easier. As a result, any and every ship incoming has to get here, if we're going to survive. Now, the convoy coming in is a valuable one, as a result."
"And everyone within fifty light years knows it." she replied, nodding. "Including the Raiders. Damn, John, I thought that Sinclair and your exec were able to elliminate that problem three years ago!"
Sheridan nodded ruefully. "So did we, at the time, but you know how that goes..."
"Of course; but this time around, at least, the Raiders won't be a problem; the Fleet's going to be here for a few more days to let the crews finish off their R and R before we move out again, to begin our new hit and run raids along the Earth Frontier; but in the meantime, I'll take the NIOBE and a cruiser or two, to bring this convoy in; will that give you a little more peace of mind?"
Sheridan nodded in relief. "You have *no* idea how much I appreciate this."
"Oh well! You'll just have to find a way to pay me back after this is all finished, then."
* * *
White Star 4, V'cha'rijan system.
The leader of the outpost looked around the bridge of the White Star 4 in awe, as the squadron moved away from the moon with speed, content now that his followers were safely rescued, and berthed aboard the squadron ships. The planetary fragment loomed in the skies above, it was quite clear to all what the fate of the satellite would soon be.
"We dreamt of such a moment as this..." the V'cha'richae commented. "To travel out among the stars, and meet other races as equals. Now, of course, that will not be possible; we are a remnant of a remnant of what was, and if we are to continue, some of us will have to make hard choices."
William nodded, as the two of them reclined in the forward bridge chairs, while behind them, Jennifer controlled the regular bridge activities, her gaze intent, and manner assured. He smiled; she didn't get a chance to command a White Star as often as either she or he liked...he would let her, for the time being. For now, it was difficult enough to communicate to his companion, given the deep accent he put on the Minbari Religious Caste tongue!
"There have been *many* hard choices as a result of this war, Hak'rah; but yes, yours was among the hardest. You're not the only refugees the Rangers have had to rescue in the last month...far from it; but your nearness to Vorlon space made it, unfortunately, the last place we could come."
Hak'rah nodded, blinking his composite eyes. "This is known; we trusted too much in our benefactors, and look what came of it." The last was said with some degree of bitterness.
"You weren't the only ones to suffer their attentions, I'm afraid."
At that moment, Jennifer interrupted, as William paused to feel the engine tone of his command shift to the slightly higher tone that meant only one thing. "Sha'vei; standing by, ready for jump."
He nodded briskly. "Now, Hak'rah; observe what you might have become, and still may.." William smiled at the astonished response from his guest as space twisted open into the blue maw of a jump point, and the White Stars fell in and through, into the murkiness of hyperspace.
"What *is* this place?" Hak'rah exclaimed.
"The gateway between worlds."
* * *
Tranfer Point, three jumps from Babylon 5; March 2nd, 2261.
"To anyone within range!" the freighter captain exclaimed, as all around them, raider ships whirled and flew, and spat energy blasts across bows, and the Raider battlewagon stood off at a distance, waiting until its fighters got the job done. "This is convoy Ex-Aleph Seven, inbound to Babylon 5; we are under attack by Raiders!...I say again, under attack, cut off from our intended route!"
"*I wouldn't bother, if I were you*" the sinister voice of the raider leader announced over the open channel. "*There isn't anyone remotely close enough to help you out, this time; and Babylon 5 doesn't send its fighters out nearly as often as it used to, now that they've broken away...and especially not with this Shadow business just finished with. Hell, no!...you may as well just surrender.*"
The captain sighed, and looked into the hopeless gazes of his crewmembers; what other choice was there? He was about to do just what the Raider had suggested, when his adrenalin suddenly surged; for out beyond the battlefield's edge, space had twisted, and a jump point was rearing open! The captain watched, first in astonishment, then in fear, and finally in relief, as three Earth ships, a destroyer and two cruisers, erupted out of the point, launching fighters as they came...soon after, the destroyer sent a long ruddy laser beam across the Raider battlewagon's bow, which was already turning to run. His first thought was, oh my God, they're from Earth, now even *if* they take out the Raiders, we're sure NEVER going to get to Babylon 5, now.
And then..
"*This is Captain Bethany Tikopai of the NIOBE to Raider party; you are attacking a convoy bound for Babylon 5; you will stand off and prepare to be boarded. Failure to do so..."
The Raiders, as it turned out, were not very thrilled to be facing an Omega Class Destroyer; the fighters were already fleeing into a cluster around their battlewagon, which had opened a point of its own. One thing about pirates, when the authorities showed up, it usually paid to be on your toes, it seemed. Less then a minute later, they were all gone, and the captain changed frequencies to hail the destroyer, his relief enormous, as Starfuries and Thunderbolts formed into a perimeter around the convoy, and the larger capital ships slowly came into range. It was obvious they had come to escort them in; chasing the Raiders was a distant, secondary priority. "Thanks, NIOBE; you have *no idea* how happy we are to see you."
"No thanks are needed." the destroyer captain's reply came back at him. "As long as we stand free, and Babylon 5 stands free, we have a hope of taking back our Home. And you're helping Babylon 5...that shows me, quite well, where your loyalties lie."
* * *
Raider HQ.
"What happened?"
A grimace. "Bad news; three of the rebel Earthforce ships showed up, and drove us off."
A bitter nod. "Too bad; well, there will be other times, and other traps to lay. Sooner or later, Babylon 5 is going to need some new Quantium-40 for their jump gate; and when that happens, we'll be ready, and waiting."
* * *
Babylon 5: March 5th, 2261: the Zen Garden; night rotations.
"Ah..." the tall man remarked, rising to his feet, as William and Jennifer entered the Garden, their expressions far from happy...it had been a *long* flight back from the Rim, and between the Entil'zha immediately asking for a meeting, finding a new home for their refugees (the station, for the time being) and now this..."It would appear that I have, yet again, caught you both at a bad time; would another time be better?"
"No, I don't think so..." Jennifer ground out. "Look, whoever you think you are, I'm even less impressed with all this mystery then William was! So if you're coming to a point anytime soon, make it!"
The tall man sighed. "Yes, a bad time this is, you have just been to and seen places you would rather have not, but that cannot be helped. There are things that need to be said, from time to time; things that will make you understand the link we have, even though you may not see it as such.
I take you back in time to a place you may have forgotten, but this was the place where I found out that what I had seen before was not just imagination. For on Nighthawk, almost a year and a half ago, now, I observed *elder* versions of what I had seen, years before..."
"Wait a minute." William intruded, his expression one of confusion. "What do you mean?"
"June 16, 2249." the tall man replied, his expression pensive. "A dark street, a dark night on Earth, after the end of the War. There were three of you against one, an interception I did not at first understand; you took something away from the other, and broke it; but then, strange Dark forms did appear around you, and strike...with a flare of light, one did disappear, as another ran up, too late to prevent the loss."
"In Valen's Name..." she whispered, her eyes wide, and then she whirled on William. "He saw us!"
"When we went into the past with the help of Draal and Zathras, to stop Walther from changing what was; and I saw..." At Jennifer's warning glance, William got the hint...and fell silent.
"Indeed!" the tall man replied, his expression now one of slight satisfaction. "A great mystery to solve, and you have just provided the final key I needed; thank you."
"Surely that can't be all you wanted from this meeting?"
The tall man bowed. "Indeed not, Observer; as I told William Westcastle, I, too, am a survivor of Nighthawk, and I have used my premonitions throughout my life, to aid me in my path. In recent times, during this bad business with the Eldermost Races, the premonitions helped to save my life on several occasions. Now, I wish to turn this service to help you, and your Rangers."
"Why?"
The tall man smiled. "Call it a payback if you wish; you have worked to stop the complete destruction of all that is...for that, there are billions in this galaxy who should be doing as I am doing...but that wouldn’t be too efficient, now would it? No, for now, it is enough that from time to time, I shall pass on information that you need, and shall expect nothing in return, except to know that I am gratified to have survived the Storm just past."
"Last time we met..." William said, "You told me that you would say why you couldn't tell me your name..."
"Of course." the tall man replied, his smile growing. "The Storm burned away my given name, now I go where I am needed, stride to see the visions coming, and am usually in the right, or worst place possible at the best possible time. I will use this to help you, Rimstalker and Observer, and in the times to come, maybe I will earn a new given name to tell you, yes? But that time is not yet."
"We understand." William said, as they cast a single, surprised glance at one another. "And thank you."
"It is agreed, then." was the tall man's final response, and as they turned back, they found him already nearly gone, a shadow in the deeper shadows of the Garden, already on the edge of vanishing...
"I'd *love* to know how he does that." William mused, as the tall man faded from sight.
She placed one hand on his neck, and leant into him. "Best not to pry, Will. Come on now, there's a bed in the Compound that's just *screaming* out my name..."
* * *
Later on...
On the bed, below her, William slept soundly. Jennie leant against the wall, and cupped her hands around the candle she was holding, and sighed. She understood that the Rangers were supposed to be a blending of Minbari and Human customs...she had, for some time now, made many Minbari rituals part of her way of life, as a part of that blending. But ever since her Entil'zha had found out what they were planning, the year before, the messages, while they had been few and far between on the matter, had never stopped.
And now, the time was getting near, and things needed to be completed.
She looked over the candle, and into Will's face; at peace, or at least as much peace as was possible, for him. "His true face..." she whispered, and shook her head. "Sometimes, I'm not so sure."
* * *
The next day.
"I have to say..." Sheridan commented, as all around them, Earthforce officers and personnel bustled past, on their way towards the many transfer shuttles docked beyond. "That we're going to miss you here; Commander Ivanova told me, the other day, how happy the station pilots were, to have just a few days off, for a change."
She laughed. "Well, John, all good things must come to an end, even days off; and we can't stay here, you know that! Sooner or later, word's going to leak out that every rebel ship between here and Proxima is at Babylon 5; and then you'd just have another shooting war on your hands...one you certainly don't need, right now."
"Can't argue with that, I suppose; so where are you going from here?"
"Out along the Earth Frontier, snooping, prying, raiding, jumping in and jumping out. A little bit of a propaganda campaign, if you will, to keep Clark on his toes, and worried...like we previously discussed. And sooner or later, he's going to make a mistake; and then, John, we'll be there, waiting."
"I look forward to that day." Sheridan replied in farewell, as she walked out towards the bay.
* * *
NIOBE.
"You know," Alwhin commented, as the fleet bore down on the jump gate, "I'm not so sure that coming here was all that good of an idea."
"And why's that, Commander?" Bethany inquired, one eyebrow raised.
"No one wanted to leave when it was time to go."
"*Right*." With one hand, she toggled the comm switch, and looked up as John's face popped into being on the screen. "This is the NIOBE to Babylon Control; requesting permission to jump."
"Permission granted, NIOBE; we'll see you soon."
She smiled, and nodded. "The sooner, the better."
And then, they jumped, once more, into the unknown.
* * *
To be continued...
* * *
Next time: Between visits to Babylon 5 to see Doctor Franklin, G'kael locates one of his last surviving relatives, and hears a tale of conquered Narn. Meanwhile, Delenn asks Jennifer to begin turning her talents towards training the next generation of Rangers, and Julia's trials in training continue, with a mild adventure or two to upset the mixture! "The Legacy of Survival" the 9th part of "The Riders on the Storm" coming soon.