"STAR AND CIRCLE: THE SEEKER'S FIRE"
EPISODE TWELVE: "WHAT LIES HIDDEN"
(disclaimers and associated descriptions in overture)
* * *
<<ACT THREE>
White Star 4 -- enroute to Neilgeitha Prime -- 1730 hrs, EST, July 31st, 2267.
She would not go so far as to say she was unhappy with the chain of events that had lead her to this command -- but Lanniel, daughter of Takier, and one-time member of the Storm Dancers Clan... did not yet feel at home on this ship. For so very many cycles, White Star 6 had been her command -- and in recent times, the synchrony between her and Alidarra had become...remarkable. Almost, she had come to believe that state of affairs would continue for the forseeable future -- but then the Drakh had attacked Earth... and everything had changed.
Change -- that was the heart of the problem -- but change could not be avoided. This ship was hers now, while White Star 6 had become Alidarra's -- and both of them had, as her human friends would put it, 'difficult shoes to fill'. Tashann, who was a comrade of long standing, a leader who had now gone on to train the captains and crews of White Stars yet-to-be, had commanded in this place for many cycles -- and before him... the human who stood at her Entil'zha's right hand -- William Westcastle, the warrior that many among the Anla'shok still, even to this day, named Rimstalker.
A man who had, in his own way, helped to create a problem that still had to be dealt with. Her expression solemn, Lanniel made her way into the bridge's observation area to take in the sight of what had been assembled to deal with the unknown menace plaguing Miranda Feist's command. Twenty-seven White Stars, including her own and Alidarra's -- as well as the *much* larger battlecruiser named 'Vi'dalae An'shaka'... Tikopai's command.
The recent commander's conference on Babylon 5 had been the first time that Lanniel had seen the young, dark-haired human Ranger in some seasons -- and even though the near-arcane manipulations of the Vorlons had obviously slowed now that she had attained her maturity -- the change from their previous encounter on Minbar before the Drakh assault was still a remarkable one. Tikopai had always been bold and intelligent for her age -- but the wisdom only gained by riding on the storm appeared to have reined in her fire. After making certain inquiries, Lanniel had learned that Tikopai and her crew had accomplished much since Sheridan had given 'An'shaka-dal' into their care -- but they had also made many enemies along the way. The Drakh. These 'Eloi'a' creatures who had visited Minbar a short time in the past.
And, of course... Rahkeel. Lanniel's hand clenched into a fist as she remembered the expression on his face, that fateful day, when she had answered the call of *A'viensha ne'vrei* to witness his humbling at Miyonn's hands -- and she knew, without a doubt, that he, and probably Tirivail as well, were out there in the darkness, somwhere... waiting and watching for the best moment to strike. And therein lay the concern -- as Anla'shok, it was her duty to protect the members of her order -- but when Rahkeel eventually chose to make his move against the humans who had 'taken his ship away from him', Lanniel knew that someone would have to act to protect Tikopai's ship and crew -- that *someone* would have to engage and perhaps destroy whatever force it was that Rahkeel now commanded -- ship or ships, it did not matter. And if Tirivail truly was at his side...
Lanniel's lips tightened further -- the matter would not be an easy one to resolve, this was certain. For she did not know, with absolute certainty, whether or not she could give the order to engage a ship commanded by her sister, or Rahkeel. And for a Ranger of her standing, this divided loyalty might eventually prove to be...
Deadly.
Lanniel forced herself to take a deep breath, and then smoothed her features. That moment of decision, while coming, was not here yet. And for the moment, there were other matters to deal with. She turned away from the panorama to face her first officer, a veteran of the Shadow War like herself. "Tuvonn -- our status?"
"Is unchanged." Tuvonn replied. "Val'na Feist's most recent communique indicates that her ship and crew are unharmed -- and that their safety in the shadow of the Neilgeithan satellite is, for the time being, assured. We will reach Neilgeitha orbit..."
* * *
"...in approximately twenty-six standard hours." Klairika reported, as Julia paced irritably back and forth across the bridge of the *Shard*. "And since you've placed us at the Sha'vei's disposal, we cannot take the matter into our own hands, this time around. The unique characteristics this vessel possesses may be all that will save the archeologists when the time comes."
"Don't forget to include the fighters and landing craft in that category as well." Sheynell reminded them. "The AI's on Neilgeitha Prime are going to get a little... um, upset, once they realize they can't see us coming."
Larieken cleared his throat. "As yet, we have no proof, one way or the other, that the traps laid for Dr. Trent's team and the crew of White Star 101 *were* put in place by artificial intelligences, Anla'shok Keynes. Until we learn more, perhaps it would be best if we did not jump to conclusions?"
"Larieken -- you suggest living beings are in charge, then?" Dasouri challenged. "As we all know, First Ones who lived on that world are now long gone. Rangers gathered proof that Neilgeitha has been deserted for many years - if this has changed, if ancient creatures wait for our arrival, freeing archologists and trapped Rangers may be more difficult than expected."
"Now, now," Julia gently chided, "You're both seeing shadows where there aren't any. Feist and her crew have reported that the archeologists, while still pinned down by those weapons towers, haven't been harmed in any other way. Nothing's emerged from the city to capture them... and besides the strange animate energy surge Trent and her people encountered when they dropped a crystal just before the trouble started -- a surge that may have signaled the release of the AI's in charge of this assault, I might add! -- nothing else has stirred. This operation *should* be a walk in the park."
"I pray that you are right." Larieken muttered, as Dasouri sharply nodded his agreement. "I truly do. For if you are not..."
* * *
It had not been an easy task, but eventually the Craneori had reached the ancient portal-generator the Creators had built when their civilization had been young -- and like ghosts, they whispered through the still-hale rods and tines of that massive structure, searching for that which they needed -- a compound used throughout known space to activate the portals... a substance that the human-primitives thought of as 'Quantium-40'. Soon enough, success was theirs -- and the Craneori paused, then, as they absorbed a minute fraction of Quantium-40 into their forms -- but that was all that was required, as part of their collective moved aside, stretched forth their will...
And moved from one state of existence to another. The realm-between-worlds, as they had expected, had not changed -- and even now, as the first arrival had shown them, the races of the galaxy still used this domain for that purpose. Used it, without understanding most of its secrets. The Creators, of course, had not learned all of those secrets either in their time -- but enough to make a difference -- enough to keep them alive in the struggle against the Dark Ones, when it had mattered the most. The Craneori concentrated, then, and reached forth their senses, searching for the two things that mattered to them the most.
The first, a shimmering vibration that spoke of a large group of ships like the first, approaching their master's ancient home -- a group surely large enough for their purposes, now that another part of their collective quietly resided within the form of the human that named itself Jordan Pieke -- the human that guarded the fragile prisons in which the rest of their kind could be found.
And the second? The Craneori reached forth, and listened -- and far away, in the distance, they finally heard what it was they had been hoping to hear. The music of a living explorer-portal, against the chaos of this place the humans called hyperspace.
The Craneori, needless to say, were pleased -- everything was coming together. And soon, very soon now, the next phase of the operation would begin.
* * *
The Ranger Compound, Babylon 5. 21:15 hrs, EST.
His movements sure and full of purpose, Veyshahk passed through the portal and into the oldest training circle in the station's Ranger compound. He smiled as he thought back on those who had fought within these bounds since this place had been built -- who had practiced, and taught others the secrets of the fighting pike. Sech Westcastle and Sech Durhan, for instance -- both of whom had taken time to instruct him during his time of training in Tuzanor, after the end of the Shadow War.
For now, however, there was a great deal to be concerned about. In the practices he had recently conducted with the few comrades he shared among the Rangers still remaining in this place, Veyshahk had quickly come to the conclusion that his duties on the *Shard of Night* had taken up far more of his time then was proper -- for while he had won many of the practice engagements, he had also lost a distressingly large number, as well -- many because of mistakes the Sechs would have chastised him for. Such mistakes he had made from time to time while still in training -- and each and every time, Durhan had taken his weapon away from him for a period, so that he might 'meditate on the necessity of focus'.
Veyshahk gritted his teeth -- in the here and now, however... with time running out, there was no time for such measures. What he needed was someone to reawaken the fire he knew resided within -- and the skill that came with it. And as such, he had asked this place's instructor, Sech Viridal, to join him here -- for most assuredly, Kirash would not hesitate to push him to the edge in combat... and beyond, when the time came. And he could not afford to make any mistakes in that duel. The question was, though, could the Sech free up enough of his time to join him in this place? He had been... unusually evasive in his response during their recent discussion, this was certain.
And then, the portal behind him opened again, and Veyshahk relaxed. "Ah." he began, as he turned around, "I am pleased that you could take time out of your busy...
Schedule?" He paused in astonishment, to see who it was that was standing there. "Forgive me -- I was expecting..."
"Viridal?" Jamie Pratchett challenged, as she jauntily moved into the training circle, her hand already moving to weapon. "Sorry, he couldn't come -- but a little bird told me what was going on, and since I happen to have a few spare moments..."
A smile quirked into place on Veyshahk's impassive features. "You decided to 'help out'. You honour me, and my cause, Sha'vei."
Pratchett shrugged, as she extended her pike, and moved to guard. "Hey, everyone needs different sparring partners, once in a while. Shall we?"
* * *
Neilgeitha Prime -- Emergence of the fleet. 19:35 hrs, EST, August 1st, 2267.
The watchers were waiting -- and everything appeared to be going according to plan, as almost simultaneously, nine areas of Neilgeitha nearspace suddenly tore asunder, and a relatively large number of the ships like the one the Craneori had trapped some time before emerged into view. They gave their commands, and almost immediately the ancient defense systems built by their creators swung to bear on the just-arrived targets and opened fire. The new arrivals avaded those bursts with ease, of course, and pressed on inwards, returning fire themselves... but what was this?
The Craneori examined the data being passed on by the weapons platforms -- and were puzzled. Their examination of the vessel hiding near the moon Shagaltha had been most complete -- and as near as they could tell, the commanders of the recently arrived force appeared to be, for want of a better word, *holding back* from using all the weapons at their disposal. The primary weapons systems onboard their commands were more than capable of destroying the platforms, for instance -- but so far, all they were using was the less powerful, pulsed-energy secondary systems -- almost as if...
Almost as if they were attempting to distract the platforms away from the true threat. The nanocreatures focused themselves completely on the here-and-now to observe what was going to happen -- were they right?
A moment later, the Craneori found themselves surprised by what came next -- most surprised, indeed. And then?
* * *
"Tactical -- your assessment of the situation, if you please."
"The Sha'vei and her squadrons have engaged all of the platforms on this side of the planet -- if we move *right* now, we should be able to knock a huge hole in the defensive net -- a hole the other White Star captains will immediately be able to exploit..."
"That's the idea." Julia replied with a grin, as Dasouri brought the *Shard* 'round onto a heading that gave them a clear line-of-sight shot across the defensive perimeter. "Mr. Fenric, Larieken -- you and your people are ready to proceed, I trust?"
"Just as soon as you slice open the belly of the beast, Captain." the fighter commander concurred, as his group moved away from their mothership at speed.
"A rather elaborate way of saying that," Larieken drolly concluded a moment later from his position on the flight deck of the covert transport, "We are ready to proceed when you are."
"In that case," Julia concluded, "Sheynell?"
The telepath nodded -- and a moment later, the midnight darkness of Neilgeithan nearspace was shattered, as the *Shard* opened fire with all its pulse cannon as well as both of its secondary neutron cannon mounts -- and three of the ancient orbital platforms vanished into balls of flame. "All right, people," she exclaimed, the words coming fast now, "There's your cue -- go, go, go!"
"We go." Larieken coolly reported, even as another weapons platform died, and two more began to spin, their stability disrupted by the white hot impact of pulse cannon fire.
* * *
"Our invisible friends," Tuvonn drolly reported, "Appear to have worked their miracles -- four platforms have been destroyed thus far, and two more are badly damaged -- the intelligence controlling the grid appears to have been destabilized."
"And Tikopai's covert landing force?" Lanniel inquired.
"Is on its way to the surface, as ordered."
"Excellent." she declared, as Tuvonn expertly brough the White Star 4 to bear on one of the remaining platforms and her weapons officerr finally opened fire with the Ranger warship's primary battery, destroying it completely. "In that case, since we move more nimbly then our 'invisible friends' -- perhaps we should provide some air cover for Anla'shok Larieken and his followers."
Tuvonn nodded, even as he began to pass orders to the other triad units. "It shall be as you say."
* * *
The Craneori, needless to say, were pleased by this most recent turn of events -- and even though they mourned the passing of their master's ancient weapons, those systems had done everything that had been required of them, and more -- they had sufficed to draw into their trap a vessel more then large enough for their intent -- and more advanced, even, if this could be believed, then those the human Pieke thought of as... 'White Stars'.
A vessel which, the Craneori were curious to learn, that human knew nothing about. Not that it mattered -- now that they knew what to look for, they could sense the larger, darklit form of the vessel which had disrupted the weapons grid -- and also the smaller daughter-craft descending towards the city to reclaim Pieke and his archeological companions. And after a time, they decided to draw close about the waiting dark-vessel... for if all went as planned, all of them knew what had to come next.
* * *
Babylon 5 -- the Central Corridor. The place-of-meeting. 20:05 hrs, EST.
Veyshahk strode forth to the edge of the lake, and took a deep breath. A short time before, as was common in this part of its diurnal cycle, the lights in the interior of the station had faded to the point where twilight and shadows became dominant -- and this, of course, was the signal his opponent had been waiting for. "I am here!" he exclaimed. "As is proper. The challenge has been issued -- I have answered it. Show yourself."
The silvery sound of a Minbari blade opening sounded in the shadows -- and soft footfalls were the next sound, as Kirash strode into view wearing his finest warrior formals, the brilliant reflective studs shimmerys stars against the darkness. "I am here. Did you really think I would back out now, so close to my triumph?"
Veyshahk laughed, the sound dry and sardonic against the near silence of their surroundings, as he opened his weapon and moved to guard. "Your 'triumph', as you say, has yet to be determined."
"It is inevitable." Kirash dismissively replied, as he lazily spun his pike through the air. "I am a warrior, trained in the use of these blades from birth -- you on the other hand, are Anla'shok -- and while I must admit you went so far as to earn a blade of your own from F'hursna Durhan -- which of us is the stronger in this art, do you think?"
Veyshahk bared his teeth. "An interesting question, warrior -- soon enough, perhaps, you will learn the answer to it."
"Soon enough, yes." And with that, Kirash dropped his cloak to the ground, as did Veyshahk, and as one, the two Minbari approached one another, their weapons ready. "Jhevak'nal!" the younger suddenly snarled.
"Rei'jhevak kahl." Veyshahk agreed, and a moment later, steel met steel, and the duel began.
* * *
With the aid of Lanniel's White Stars, it had taken surprisingly little time to subdue the weapons towers plaguing Trent and her team, and a short time later, Larieken and his Rangers had gathered the errant archeologists and their gear in hand, and made their way back up to orbit. And now, of course, would come the questions, as they almost always did.
"Does someone want to tell me *how* you people did what you just did?" Elizabeth Trent exclaimed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but did I, or did I not see an atmospheric transport and a fighter squadron *shimmer* into being like something from a bad Shadow War documentary?"
"Geez, doc, don't be so paranoid." Renly Moreau casually replied from his position at Larieken's side. "These are Rangers, and more specifically, a lot of 'em are Minbari -- do you really think they'd use Shadow technology of *any* kind? Nah, I'd be more inclined to believe this has something to do with Vorlon technology -- but I don't suppose you're gonna answer that question, are you?" the archeologist wryly inquired, as he turned to face the Minbari Ranger.
"It is not my place to answer such questions." the reply came, as the transport safely arrived in orbit. "Many more secrets then I deem safe have already been revealed to you in any case -- to say more at this time would not be prudent. My captain will speak more to you of this matter in due course, however."
"Your captain, huh?" Moreau shot back. "Who's he, a White Star commander?"
"*She*," Larieken corrected, "Will answer all of your questions in due course, Dr. Moreau, and as for her command being a White Star... as you will shortly see, that observation is not... entirely an accurate one."
"And what do you mean by...that?" Moreau's eyes widened, then, as the shuttle drew near enough to the orbiting Ranger force for him to *see* the ship in question. "Well I'll be damned."
Trent whistled, as Larieken piloted the transport across the nose of the *Shard of Night*, before swinging down underneath its underside engine mount to begin the approach to the just-opening hangar bay doors. "No, let me guess -- ISA security mandate 11.053 just came into effect, didn't it?"
"That, and about... twenty-seven other directives I am aware of, yes." the Ranger replied. "And I assure you, Doctor, we have the means to ensure you and your people are... wise enough to keep quiet about this matter -- and that there are individuals and forces at large in this galaxy who would kill you to learn what it is that you know."
"So why show us at all, then?" Moreau managed, as the transport entered the peeled-back doors of the hangar bay. "Why didn't you just take us to another ship in the fleet, and be done with it?"
"Because," Larieken replied, "This vessel is, at present, the most advanced in the Ranger arsenal -- and its arsenal includes state-of-the-art gravimetric containment field generators designed to safely protect 'artifacts' found on the search, such as those in Mr. Pieke's care."
"Or," Trent coolly added, "To protect *us* from the artifacts, right?"
"Indeed you are, Dr. Trent." Larieken agreed, as the transport gently set down on the hangar deck floor, and the bay doors finished sealing themselves shut behind them. "Now, if you would be so kind, it is time for us to disembark, and also, I believe, to take the surviving crystals you have acquired to the aforementioned secure location aboard..."
* * *
Now. As one, the freespace Craneori rushed inwards towards the bulk of the vessel their brethren had just entered into. NOW, the time to act had come. At last.
* * *
"{No.}" The word that emerged out of Jordan Pieke's mouth was sibilant, distorted -- and completely unexpected. {In this you are incorrrect, Minbari. For so very long we have been trapped in our prison by the Dark Ones -- the time has come for us to seize... our destiny.}"
"What?" Trent exclaimed, as the other Rangers aboard moved forth towards her assistant. "Jordan, what the Hell are you talking about?"
"{We will explain in time...}" Pieke replied, as his eyes suddenly began to glow, "{But for now, actions are more important.}"
* * *
"By the Comet!" Klairika suddenly exclaimed, as a dozen seperate systems suddenly warned of a concentration of energy suddenly *materializing* in the hangar bay, "Val'na, there is..."
* * *
And then it was that an-all too familiar river of red fire familiar to all of the archeologists suddenly swept through the *closed* hangar bay doors, into the shuttle, and then into a wreath around Pieke -- and the case he was holding -- a case that suddenly swung open to reveal the rest of the crystals. "{The time is now...}" Pieke declared. "{The moment arrives.}"
"No, Pieke!" Moreau bellowed, "Don't do it, don't let them..."
The sheet of aerial fire rippled around Pieke's hands, and as the horrified onlookers watched, every one of the crystals in the case... shattered.
* * *
To be continued!
* * *
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