Thanks to RenS and Lightning Count for their relentless work for ATV and its supplements.
Chapter Ten:
"Differences and Opinions-Part Three"
Minbar
Yedor
Capital of Minbar
The Eternal City was divided into an Upper City and a Lower City. This was due to the waterfall formation made by the mouths of the three rivers Temeor, Sheshnai and Lerh'mor naturally separating the two levels. Most of the common use places such as halls, arenas, gathering places and temples, including Yedor's spaceport were in the Upper City while most residences were in the Lower City.
The Sisters of Valeria's headquarters, the White Tower, was in the Upper City in its own walled garden enclosure. Dressed in voluminous red silk robes, Irilenn had just severed her communication link to Alyt Mazetch. The Sal'Sataia could see the city from her window close to the top of the tower. The city was all crystal spires and towers, but only the Tower was solid white, gleaming and distinct from the rest of the city. The Mistress of the Sisters was proud of that distinctiveness.
Mazetch was a fool, she thought. No one touched a cloister or sanctuary of the Order. Especially one where Sister Callenn herself was in residence. Irilenn turned away from the window and caught sight of the icon of Valeria with his wings spread protectively over the fireplace. As she often did, she smiled at the allusion to Valeria as Lord of the Secret Fire.
Her eyes fell upon the book laid open on her desk. The Nok'Isil, the Book of the Future, source of the Sisterhood's influence on Minbari society for the past thousand years. Banned by Valen and kept hidden within the Sisterhood, known only to the succession of Mistresses, it was a transcription of revelations of Minbar's future made by the Beloved of Valen herself. The Sisters had found and sheltered the lost woman until Valen found her. The book's tale of the future did not contain the UFOPers and their allies. Irilenn knew what that meant:
The future was no longer written.
However, the book still offered knowledge to the Sal'Sataia. One of its pages had a drawing of a pre-Valen Minbari that was much closer to the Ashen in appearance than to the modern Minbari people. This was why Irilenn believed the Ashen's claim to having more purity than the Minbari themselves. However, she refused to accept the idea that the Ashen would control Minbar's future.
As long as the Ashen remained, Minbar was doomed. Very importantly, Irilenn and her Order were doomed. She thought it was time to make their own future, to write a new future for the Sisterhood and Minbar. But how?
The people sensed and resented the Ashen's hand in Minbari affairs. Discreet Sisters and Novices had reported the mutterings heard in the temples, the streets, the eateries and from their families. The sentiment had sharpened since the burning of that priest in front of the Ranger Temple. Despite the war with the Humans, or rather because of it, it would take little to provoke them.
Irilenn remembered the report of a dissident hiding in one of the Order's safe houses in Yedor. If the Ashen were to somehow find him….
She knew that the Ashen were quite touchy because of the war. Even more so ever since the news came of the slaughter of the peaceful Norsai by the Klingons. Their reaction would be predictable. As would the Minbari people's reaction to that reaction.
A pebble dropped in a pond created waves of ripples spreading everywhere from a single tiny point, encountering other ripples, clashing and influencing. The strongest ripples now came from the UFOPers and their allies.
Would a Federation victory be good? Would a Federation-imposed peace be better than the peace imposed by the Grey Council and the Vorlons? Somehow, Irilenn doubted that. The slaughter of the Norsai villagers reinforced that doubt. The Shadows and the Vorlons had been fighting their cold war for millennia and thanks to the Vorlons' rigid nature, the Federation and their allies would now only take the Shadows' role in the everlasting cold war. There were those who believed that the UFOPers were the face of the Shadows revealed. She was not one of them. Her rationale was that if the UFOPers were their servants, the Shadows would have used them long ago, and they would have been mentioned in the Nok'Isil.
She also doubted that the Grey Council would continue as the ruling body of the Minbari Federation after the War of Sorrows, if they were to accept a UFOP-imposed peace. If it did, it would not be in the same shape or fashion as now. Already, a Satai was missing from it, creating an imbalance of power in the Council. Changes were coming.
Yes, it was time to make their own future. It was most unfortunate that Delenn disappeared. She looked down through the window to the plaza separating the Tower grounds from the domed Chosen Palace, location of Minbar's government apparatus. If done carefully, perhaps even the Ban of Valen keeping the Sisters cloistered away from the world could be removed. It would require a discreet hand so that no one would notice it.
Irilenn reached out to close the Nok'Isil, barely registering the drawing of a half-Minbari and half-Human woman on a page. She locked the clasp holding the book closed. Bending down, she opened the safe hidden under the flagstones of the fireplace, looked over by Valeria's icon. The book was the real Secret Fire and it must be kept secret no matter the changes.
When she was certain that no one could notice the now-concealed safe, she rang for High Sister Avaier.
When the thin ancient crone came into the Sal'Sataia's office, Irilenn was properly seated in her chair with her red silk robes appropriately spread. The aged confidante curtsied.
"As you have called me, Mother, so have I come."
Irilenn smiled at the old High Sister fondly. Avaier was the only one she trusted and the old woman knew how to carry out the Sal'Sataia's will. She was also the only one who could look directly into Irilenn's eyes whose gaze had made ministers and caste elders, and even the vanished Ranger One, drop their eyes. "Daughter, I wish you to do something for me."
-+-
On a street in the city, Minbari were strolling. Most came from the Worker Caste and the Religious Caste. Some were out shopping, some were using their breaks to take advantage of the sunny day, but most were clustered in groups. Many whispered, exchanging rumors and news. Most of them discussed the war, especially the Norsai massacre.
The massacre chilled Minbar's heart. Here, at long last, was evidence of what had been repeatedly announced by the Ashen and the Ministry of Information: the UFOPers and their allies were evil, even Shadow-spawn. Many feared that the Norsai massacre was a foreshadowing of what would happen to the colonies that fell to the enemy.
Some Minbari countered that with information received from relatives on the colonies that did fall to the enemy. This information was not supposed to make it past the Ministry of Information, but people had connections through close friends and family members. The information came either through the communication net or through people who left the colonies for Minbar. Not all venues of information could be brought under control by anyone or any government.
Nevertheless, the Norsai massacre chilled them, too. Few really believed that Minbar would fall and those who voiced that opinion were either ridiculed by other people or silenced by the appropriate authorities. Sometimes, the ridicule was out of a genuine belief in Minbar's impregnability but quite often, it was out of fear and a refusal to admit that fear. Still, there was an undercurrent of uncertainty lurking in the people's minds. The colony of Shengol has fallen. This meant the enemy was only one jump away from their home-system, Fi'Ardbarae itself. To make things worse, whatever the enemy did there, it disrupted hyperspace, (see upcoming chapter 67 ATV) making travel into and out of the Minbari home-system too hazardous to undertake.
The tense calm was interrupted when a small group of Ashen warriors in immaculate white robes turned a corner onto the street. Everyone stopped in their track. It was rare to see Ashen in the city outside of the Ranger Temple that they had commandeered as a base of operations in Yedor. The Ashen warriors marched slowly down the street as if they were looking for something, as if they were a predator fish on the prowl. Most of the people studiously pretended to be looking at the beautiful crystalline architecture, but all were watching what the Ashen would do. A few now hurried into eateries or homes, especially if they had children with them. As they were pulled out of sight, the younger children openly stared and pointed at the Ashen who ignored them.
The Ashen stopped at a building. The leader, the only one with a small tattoo at a temple, verified the address with a note and pointed at the door. The warriors obliged by kicking the door open and rushing into the townhouse. Immediately, there was a commotion and the sound of a struggle.
Some people left the street, wishing not to be seen anymore.
Soon, the Ashen reappeared, forcing a young Minbari man to stumble out of the house, his hands bound at his back and his face swollen from a beating. He wore the robe of a student. They slammed him back against the wall. He was there a moment, splayed out against the crystal façade as if stuck to it. Then one of the Ashen moved in on him, did something sharp and brutal that doubled the student over.
The leader barked an order and the warriors picked the unfortunate man up and brought him out to the middle of the street.
The leader turned to face the people who remained on the street, rooted to their spots by morbid fascination. His small tattoo glittered gloriously as it caught the sun light. He announced, "This man is a traitor to our people, to our world. He has been tainted by the Shadows."
He calmly took hold of his holstered PPG pistol and raised it toward the young man whose face now cringed in expectant terror. A shot rang out and the man dropped like a puppet cut from its strings.
The leader, whose white robe was still pure, calmly announced, "This man will be reborn and given the chance to redeem his soul."
With that, he turned about and had the warriors carry the body in a makeshift stretcher. They marched away down the street, leaving stunned witnesses.
The Ashen often claimed to be more Minbari than the Minbari. There was one thing that the people cherished:
Minbari do not kill Minbari.
Becerra Alpha One
Detainment section C-One
This particular wing of the rather large brig contained within the station had been deserted, the prisoners having being moved to a different set of holding cells and security increased vastly. Armed details patrolled the corridors, sensor stations monitored every molecule, random sweeps sought to expose any hints of trouble or suspicious activity. This prison wing was arguably the most secure location in the galaxy. It had to be. The concern was not somebody breaking out, but rather somebody breaking in.
For Captain Simon Makin, it was a set of orders, nothing more and nothing less. Whether he agreed with them or not was irrelevant. The word had been given and his duty to the banner made sure he turned this place into an airtight bubble. He had already been stopped and checked three times as he approached the heart of the cell block, something he noted with approval. He paused for a fourth time outside the inner core, handing over his ID key card to the Sergeant at Arms behind the control desk and submitting for a biometric scan. The Sergeant confirmed his identity with a brief nod and opened the last door, the thick white metal portal growling open allowing him entry to the inner sanctum.
His every move was watched on camera, recorded and monitored as he halted before the last set of bars, looking through at the last remaining prisoner in the Cell block.
"General Chang is right you know, Shakespeare is better when read in Klingon."
The lone female prisoner folded shut the thick leather bound book she was reading, the crinkle of old paper a throwback to a bygone age before data pads and memory banks. "This is one of his own copies, the complete works from his private collection." She placed the book down on the desk she was sat behind. "Very fitting."
"I wasn't aware you understood Klingon," Makin stated stiffly.
"I am a quick study." The prisoner rose from her seat, smiling thinly. "Besides, where I'm going a little extra language skill will come in handy."
"You seem pretty certain of your future, I'd be careful about making such assumptions."
"And I'd be careful when trying to play mind games with someone like me," she answered curtly, falling into an insincere smile. "I wouldn't want to upset you, dear Captain."
Makin was a long serving member of the Judge Advocate General Staff and he had seen a lot in his time, but the person before him was without equal in his experience. There was no one more cruel, more vicious and more unsympathetic in the galaxy. Anyone else who had lost what she had lost might have sparked a little empathy in him despite the circumstances, but not this creature. He wouldn't admit it in public but privately as far as he was concerned she got everything she deserved.
"I'm here to inform you Prisoner Jha'dur, that your hearing has been scheduled."
"How amusing."
"You will be taken before a member of the Supreme Court who will hear the charges and decide whether or not to refer you for a full trial under Interstellar Law," Makin continued. "Which is probably a given at this point, but the formal legal process must be carried out."
"We all have our little hoops to jump through do we not?" She grinned. "A little entertainment for the masses."
"There is nothing trivial about this matter, Jha'dur."
"Next to what I've seen, Captain? she asked. "Everything is trivial."
Makin made no immediate response, pacing in front of the bars for a moment. She had quickly recognised his rank from his uniform, and if she was really good she may have spotted his divisional markings and noticed he was part of JAG, but beyond that she hadn't displayed any intimate knowledge of his background. "I have been assigned to act as your defense counsel."
She smiled. "What makes you think I need defending?"
"The charges against you are some of the most severe in legal history. The Federation is taking this matter very seriously, even if you are not."
"I will defend myself."
Makin smiled thinly. "There's an old saying among lawyers, the client who represents himself has a fool for a lawyer."
She tilted her head. "I'm going to remember what you just implied, Captain."
He used his legal training to bottle up his sudden chill. "In that case, I'll be your co-counsel. Everyone deserves impartial legal representation."
She turned aside and returned to the desk, retaking her seat and crossing her hands on the table surface.
"This trial is beneath me."
"You may think that," Makin responded. "But no one is above the law, not even a Warmaster."
"Law is a creation of the weak, a blanket to smother those who try to stand out," Jha'dur dismissed. "It forces order on a fractured society, demands conformity, punishes those who wish to be different."
"Only the guilty fear the law."
"Everyone fears the law because the law is a product of man, and like man it changes constantly," she informed. "One day you are innocent, the next day you are guilty because someone has rewritten the rules."
"That's not how our law works. It exists to protect those who cannot defend themselves."
"Those who cannot defend themselves deserve no protection." She shook her head. "They are a drain on civilisation, absorbing resources better spent elsewhere. That sort of thinking will bring you down, Captain."
"No, you're wrong there," Makin answered. "Every member of the Federation is worth something, everyone has potential, they all have something to give to the rest of our people."
"Is that so?"
"Diversity makes us what we are, more than the sum of our parts," he answered. "New ideas, new ways of thinking, concepts no other race would ever think of. One group alone could never have all that."
"What a beautiful brochure," she nodded. "And you are right of course. Alien designs and alien ways of thinking can yield fresh concepts and brilliant ideas others would over look. Your problem is that you ask for them Captain, instead of simply taking them as we did."
"One more thing which separates us, thank heaven."
"Don't thank your fictional deities, Captain. Instead mourn an opportunity lost, a chance for your race to reach heights of power no other species could dream of. You are the Federation, yet how easy would it have been to become the Terran Empire?"
Makin shook his head. "A grim fable Jha'dur, a dark poisoned nightmare of what could have been, not what we truly are."
"You had the power you know," she spoke quietly. "And I know Humanity had the capacity, you could have dominated everything you cast your eye over."
"The Terran Empire is a twisted Aberration."
"Or maybe you are the aberration Captain, and the Empire is the true face of Humanity."
"One possible face," the Captain considered. "Reality is infinite, we can't tell what other realities are out there, what parallel worlds, what has changed in them. Maybe there's a reality where you are the galaxy's most adored matriarch."
"There may well be," she accepted, "or one where my world exists still. The possibilities are indeed endless, a long list of examples to learn from."
"Including some cautionary tales."
"There but for the grace of God, go I?" Jha'dur cracked a smile
"Our experience with the Terran Empire served to remind us of exactly who we are and why we do what we do," Makin said plainly. "It shows what happens when people stop caring and become motivated solely by power and ambition."
"And fear Captain, don't forget fear," Jha'dur added. "Fear of each other, fear of what lies beyond the borders, fear of losing what they have built. A Very useful emotion to nurture."
"Fear is destructive, weakening."
"Don't dismiss it so swiftly Captain, it is probably the main reason the Federation exists."
"How exactly did you work that one out?"
"Quite simple Captain, consider history." She leaned back in her chair. "Why was the Federation created?"
It was a story every school pupil knew, the founding of the Federation was one of the defining moments of the galaxy, the creation of a super power which endured to this day and was still going strong.
"We united as a result of the Earth-Romulan war. The founding worlds had operated side by side for years in a loose alliance before then. Signing the articles of Federation formalized what had been in existence for a long time before."
"Uniting like minded worlds under one banner of equality."
"Exactly," Makin nodded. "And even you can't twist that into something evil."
"No Captain, not evil, of course not," she replied. "But it was a product of fear."
"It enabled closer cooperation…"
"It was a defense pact first and foremost, a united front to oppose the Romulans," Jha'dur stated. "They had better ships than you and more of them, the Romulan war was a hard one and could easily have ended in defeat for Earth. To prevent a further near miss like that Earth united with other worlds, using their combined strength to match the Imperial Romulan Navy. A wise move Captain, but a move born of fear over the Romulans."
"The Federation is more than that. We work on many levels from…"
"I am aware of the party line Captain. Better trade, shared development, scientific excellence and all the rest. But at the heart of the matter fear keeps the Federation together, and not only does Starfleet know this, it encourages it."
Makin grinned. "Now you really are clutching at straws."
"You don't believe me, Captain?"
"That there's a conspiracy to rule by fear in the Federation? I have to say that's the best conspiracy theory I've ever heard."
"Understandable, you have been heavily indoctrinated."
"Have I?" He grinned widely. "Did it hurt?"
"Not you Captain, but I doubt others are so fortunate in their convictions."
"I'm guessing you have some evidence for this planet-shaking theory of yours?"
"Simple, there is no other way the Federation could exist without two basic elements. The first is fear."
"And the second?"
"Greed."
Makin sighed slightly. "Thank you for that startling insight."
"I don't expect you to take my word for it. I simply ask you step back and look at the government you are serving."
"I know my Government Jha'dur, I know why they do what they do," Makin stated. "A lot of it is to protect us from external threats, but a lot more is to provide a decent quality of life for our citizens. Sure it doesn't sound like much, but it's something I'm proud to help with."
"You almost brought a tear to my eye," Jha'dur mocked gently. "Sadly the galaxy is not a playground. Some races exist merely to try and kill and conquer Captain."
"You're a fool to believe that."
"And you are a fool to deny it," Jha'dur scoffed. "Evolution is about survival of the fittest, about casting down others."
"Civilisation is about overcoming those destructive base instincts."
"And exactly how civilized to you think you are Captain?" Jha'dur arched an eyebrow. "More civilized than the Klingons?"
Makin was careful to avoid the trap. "Different Jha'dur, not more or less, different."
"How very diplomatic of you," she smiled. "So I suppose the Federation approves of Klingon culture and traditions?"
He could see where this was going. "Your next sentence is going to include the words 'Captain Klaa' isn't it?"
"Bravo Captain, glad you haven't completely disappointed me."
Makin did not display surprise. By this point he had accepted the Dilgar female had her sources even here in this most secure of facilities. He had a good idea who they were too, but couldn't make any accusations in the rather delicate political climate.
Not yet.
"Captain Klaa acted against orders, and further more against his own traditions. For a Klingon warrior killing unarmed civilians is a high crime."
"Obviously not for all Klingon warriors."
"Individuals act as they will."
"Good old fashioned blood lust. " She sighed. " I miss that. Of course no Starfleet officer would do that."
Makin waited.
"No doubt because Starfleet is more civilized." She grinned. "The Federation is better."
"Better is subjective."
"So you deny your nation is superior?"
"Not my place to decide, history will judge us all," answered Makin. "All of us."
"Because I have noticed a rather disturbing amount of racism in Starfleet regarding Klingons," She touted. "A rumour that most Klingons smell, live in huts, that most are too primitive to even talk." She raised her gaze. "You've heard these rumours Captain, don't deny it."
"I've heard them, people talk."
"Don't they talk about the funniest things?" She grinned. "I've heard them here, Klingons are not well liked are they?"
"We've fought them a lot, going to take time to change people's perspectives."
"Glad to see the Federation's first rate education system is keeping them well informed about alien cultures," she sneered. "Not just the Klingons of course, I've heard fun facts about Romulans, Kzinti, Minbari, even your long-lost cousins on Earth. This is your enlightened civilization, Captain? A society that looks down on anyone not part of their nation? That makes racist comments off hand about their new allies? It betrays a deeper truth, Captain."
"We don't force people to abandon their opinions no matter how wrong they are, we try to help them understand they are wrong and give them the truth."
"Don't get me started on the truth Captain, it is as subjective as right and wrong," she dismissed. "What it shows is that your Federation is not half as equal and united as you would have us belief, and not nearly so enlightened."
"If you want to judge a nation on a few uninformed comments, go ahead." Makin shrugged. "I'll judge the Federation by its actions."
"Indeed?" Jha'dur grinned. "What is racism but a manifestation of fear? A desire to unite against an outsider and keep them away? It holds the Federation together, fear of the outsider. Your nation is like a wall of sand, as long as there is pressure upon it the wall remains whole, compact, solid. Take the pressure away, take the external threat away, and you will dissolve into nothing."
"I'm sorry you see it like that."
"Starfleet has its part to play of course, defender of the 'Federation', champions of 'freedom and justice'." She chuckled. "And reminders Captain, a constant reminder that the galaxy is a dangerous place. Starfleet is a relief from fear, but also reinforces it, also emphasizes the threat. The Romulans, the Klingons, the Minbari, always some opponent, some enemy. When one is defeated another rises up. When one becomes a friend another becomes an enemy. Always there is a threat, always an external danger, whether real or not does not matter. The threat remains, and so does the fear forcing the worlds of the Federation to band together."
"You're delusional." The Captain shook his head sombrely. "You've spent so long away from normal people you can't see what is in front of your nose."
"I see clearly Captain," she responded. "I see that to scare your people you demonise those outside the Federation, the malicious conniving Romulans, the primitive Klingons, the Fanatical Minbari. Barbarians at the gate, my good Captain, always trying to break in and strip from the citizens of the Federation that which they deserve."
"Their freedom?"
"Their opulence." She laughed. "Their easy lives of contentment provided by technology. Deny what you will, but vast sections of the Federation are racist, and it is an ignorance propagated by senior members of the Federation to keep the defense budget high and prevent cessation movements."
"Not a bad conspiracy theory."
"I know it because I can see between the lines, pick out the same theories I would use. My compliments actually, your Federation is far more devious than I first gave it credit for."
Minbar:
The second and lesser of Minbar's two suns was the first to rise above the horizon, heralding the dawn. The orange-red star was called Midiri, the Soul Sea. In its present position, it was as if an Earth sunset was occurring in reverse, bathing Yedor in red-hued light, the crystal towers and spires refracting the light everywhere. A wind rose and blew through the tall buildings, causing the crystal to softly sing like a wet finger caressing the edge of wine glasses. Some birds answered in morning song. Midiri was so called because primitive Minbari once believed it was where their souls resided after the death of the body.
Closely following Midiri was the primary white-yellow sun. Ardbar, the World of Light, once believed by primitive Minbari to be where the ancient gods lived, streamed through the curtains covering the Sal'Sataia's bedroom window. A feline gok lay tightly curled at the foot of the large bed.
High Sister Avaier knocked the door, but Irilenn was already awake. She had heard of the public execution the previous day and was now wondering what the new day would bring. The old woman came in, carrying a tray containing a teacup, an empty glass teapot, and a metal canister. There was a bulb of closed leaves inside the glass teapot. The gok woke up, stretched in a high arch and yawned hugely, revealing sharp fang-like teeth and a curling tongue. The feline haughtily looked around and bolted out of the room through the door.
Irilenn smiled in amusement at the pet gok. She sat up to see what Avaier used this time.
The High Sister opened the canister and poured steaming hot water into the teapot. When it was filled, the bulb bloomed open into a red and gold puffy flower on a bed of thin green leaves. The water slowly changed color as the essence of the flower and leaves came out to create the tea.
Irilenn was pleased. A nethai flower! It was a rare wildflower that was difficult to find on Minbar. It was a daily morning ritual that she delighted in and Avaier was an expert in finding the appropriate flowers in the Tower gardens and crafting them for tea.
"Mother, there is something that needs to be seen." Avaier vaguely gestured at the open window. The old woman betrayed nothing on her face.
"Very well. Give me the tea first."
Once the filled teacup was in her hand, Irilenn stood and went to the tall open window. Far below her position in the Tower, she could see a large group of young Minbari sitting on the plaza of Valen's Peace. Judging by their robes, they were mostly Religious and Workers. As the city awoke, more people came into the plaza and joined the group. She turned to look at Avaier with an unvoiced question.
"It is their response to the public execution yesterday. Many education temples are closing in protest and more are closing by the hour. Sympathetic priests are refusing to conduct their ceremonies. And, Mother, Shai Alyt Mazetch has been recalled from Nath'Kan Cloister last night because of this."
Irilenn sipped her tea, watching the plaza in wonder. The pebble was dropped and now the ripples were appearing.
It has begun.
Yeya'la
Dravanpore Province
Kodell looked up when the door to his room opened. He sighed in relief: it was Draal.
The teacher noticed. "You do not feel comfortable?"
Kodell sighed again as he closed a book in his lap. "It's the news from Yedor. It's bothering me."
Draal nodded as he seated himself opposite of Kodell. When Alyt Mazetch took his army away from Nath'Kan Cloister, they, Mayan and Callenn took the opportunity to go onto the mainland and reach a nearby fishing village to tap into the Minbari communication network. It was there that they found out about the public execution made by Ashen in Yedor and the resulting strike staged by the city's temples. To say that the whole thing disturbed them would be an understatement.
After hiring craftsmen to rebuild the bridge to Nath'Kan, they decided to use their family connections to contact the clan and caste elders. They thought if they got the required recommendations and protection, they could appeal to the Council of Caste Elders or present their evidence and views in the Temple of Varenni which would be broadcast to the whole of Minbar.
So it came to pass that they reached the small town of Yeya'la as night fell. They decided to retire to a two-story inn for the night before continuing on their trip.
"Have you any news from Ker'Shan Castle?" inquired Draal.
That ancestral estate was another source of Kodell's unease. "The Sujenn Province authorities have interdicted my family. They have shut themselves up in the castle and they refuse to talk to anyone, much less me."
Now Draal looked concerned. "Why? As far as I know, the Mirs are not troublemakers."
"Except me," countered Kodell. "I am of the family Mir, and by association, they are potentially guilty. I presume the interdiction is in retaliation for my part at the Ranger Temple protest and to motivate me into turning myself in."
Disturbed, Draal quietly said, "It is a dark path our world is walking."
Kodell winced at the thought, but he had to admit it was true. The evidence of Minbar's eroding social honor was the PPG he had bought from a merchant on the way to Yeya'la. The merchant had dared to trade with other worlds despite the war and the traditional isolation policy. It was a common civilian self-defense pistol with only five shots worth in it. The purchase was not entirely legal, but then he was not entirely legal in person himself. From what he could learn from the merchant, this primitive-looking type of PPG was popular among some of the Non-Aligned Worlds and, ironically enough for Kodell, was manufactured in the Earth Alliance.
Traitor and heretic, indeed.
"Valen foretold that before the next Great War with the Shadows, there would be a terrible war. In it, darkness would menace two races; one physically and the other spiritually."
The older teacher nodded. "That would fit the War of Sorrows, at least until the UFOPers came. Now, our people are in both physical and spiritual danger." Draal glanced at the night sky in the window. If there was light enough to see outside, he would see the Crystal Mountains rising in the distance. "Shai Alyt Mazetch and the Blood Knives at Nath'Kan, the public execution at Yedor, the interdiction of your family at Ker'Shan Castle. It is moradum."
"The application of terror," Kodell translated, recognizing the term from Draal's lessons for young Delenn. "I agree. It is a dark day when terror is applied to our own homeworld and in our own government. Our honor is stained by that."
Draal agreed. "And this developing protest in Yedor may be a sign that the Ashen have miscalculated." He shook his head. "In their zeal for victory, the government has forgotten that religion and war must act in the service of the people, not the other way around. So we can't go to Ker'Shan to get the support we need. Where do we go from here? The road splits here in Yeya'la. One goes into Na'sen Province to Tuzanor, the other to Yedor. The other way would take us back to Ravin'sha and on to Nath'Kan."
"Callenn was right: I cannot hide or wait out events and changes in the Universe. We'll make for Yedor."
Draal was silent for a while, studying Kodell. Then: "Do you mean to join the movement occurring at the capital?"
Kodell nodded. Draal broke out in a wide grin. "You're right. Sister Callenn's right. Changes are coming and we cannot wait them out!"
"How is Callenn?"
Draal now looked at Kodell knowingly, stroking his beard. "Sister Callenn is taking a bath with Shaal Mayan downstairs." He moved to sit beside his friend. "Kodell, she is a Sister of Valeria. Whenever a woman joins the Order, she divorces herself from worldly concerns and renounces all vows and relationship connections. In other words, Kodell, Sister Callenn cannot return your feelings."
"I know," Kodell whispered. "In Valen's Name, I know. I just don't know why she joined the Order."
"Let's go to bed. We'll feel better in the morning."
The two friends took off their outer robes and lay down on the slanted beds. Draal verbally turned the light off.
"Draal?"
"What?"
"Thank you for being a friend."
"It is I who should thank you for making my life exciting again."
A chuckle sounded and then silence fell.
After a while in the silent darkness, Kodell spoke again, this time in a whisper. "Draal? I think I hear something."
The aging Minbari strained to listen. For a moment, he thought he could hear footsteps, the sound of hushed voices and a rattle that was almost like a denn'bok opening and closing. "It's the other inn patrons. Why did you choose this inn, anyway?"
"It…it's one of my favorite inns. Callenn and I stopped here for a while when we got married."
"I see. Well, we'll talk in the morning."
-+-
Mayan squeezed a hot water-laden sponge over her back. The large stone tub that Mayan and Callenn were in was naturally hollowed out by water and wind erosion, and they thoroughly enjoyed the chance to wash and relax after the long trip in the personal transport.
More steam filled the room, obscuring everything. Candles, the only source of light, gave a ghostly glow in the mist.
Callenn sighed contentedly. Absentmindedly, she said, "It's almost like the Whisper Gallery but without the Dreaming."
Mayan was surprised. Few ever went into the Dreaming. It was said that the Dreaming took participants forward into the possible future and back into the past. "You have…entered the Dreaming?"
Callenn was chagrined. "I-I should not have mentioned it." When she saw that Mayan was earnest, she remembered that Delenn did not make life-long friends lightly. Her daughter was a good judge of character, so she said, "This will not leave this room." Upon receiving Mayan's solemn nod of agreement, she continued, "It clarified something for me. Do you remember the day Delenn, Kodell and I visited Tuzanor, and she got lost? And the Centauri diplomat who visited your class at the education temple after that?"
Mayan nodded. "Isn't that the one who renounced his Centauri citizenship because he was taken with our culture? I heard he's on a distant colony, had his hair removed and is doing his best to be a Minbari."
"The same. Well, before all that happened, his wife, Lady Ladira, pointed something out for me and I needed the Dreaming to—"
She stopped. The reason for that were the warriors passing the open window.
Callenn instantly knew what they were doing. She jumped out of the tub and ran out of the room, leaving Mayan alarmed and puzzled.
The Sister ran up the stairs and threw the door to Kodell's room open.
"Quick! There are men with denn'boks coming!"
Kodell and Draal were staring at her with surprise. It was then Callenn realized that she was naked. Blushing, she spoke fast. "Get up! I'll hide!" The Sister ran off down the corridor to her own room.
A crash sounded. It was the wooden front door being broken in. Startled yells came from other inn patrons.
Quickly, Draal and Kodell got up, put on their outer robes and seized their denn'boks. The comrades crouched down in a corner of the dark room to meet the coming attack. It was just in time because warriors were running up the stairs. As they entered their targets' room, Kodell was taken back to his brush with the Blood Knives at Nath'Kan Cloister. He was not about to fall at another assassination attempt. He brandished his PPG and fired. The shot missed the first warrior on purpose. The warriors hesitated.
A voice rang out into the darkness. "Kodell of the family Mir! We are law-guardians! The Yeya'la entil'chan wants to meet you!"
So the local magistrate wanted Kodell, too. How did they know he was here? Were there agents or spies? Or did a concerned and dutiful citizen inform the authorities? The Ashen had a long reach.
"Kodell! I am Mytarin of the family Kort. I will guarantee safety for you while you meet the entil'chan."
The family Kort. So this Mytarin was part of Shai Alyt Shakiri's clan. Kodell knew that the law-guardians' safety really meant arrest. Political pressure would have him judged insane by the magistrate and exiled to penal moon orbiting Minbar where he would live out the rest of his life without contact with other Minbari. He would not have that. He refused to be forced to wait out the Universe's changes.
The snick of his denn'bok opening was the answer to the law-guardians' challenge.
The guardians entered the unlit room again, brandishing their own denn'boks. Draal and Kodell parried with them. Whenever pressure became too great, Kodell fired his PPG. Pained screams in the dark answered the shots. The anger in Kodell built up. This world's increasing spiritual darkness was forcing him to be a murderer. Minbari do not kill Minbari but the darkness, heat and pressure of battle forced him to disregard that sacred tenet.
A guardian leapt at Kodell out of the darkness and brought his denn'bok down hard on his PPG hand. Hot pain squeezed the trigger and the warrior fell at Kodell's feet. Despite the guardians' numbers, which seemed to be twenty, Draal and Kodell managed to drive them out of the room. They knew that the respite was temporary.
Shouts indicated that some of the inn's patrons were demanding explanations and distracting the guardians, who fortunately were not as skilled or professional as Warriors. Kodell quickly put down his denn'bok and took out a PPG charge from a pocket. He tried to reload his PPG but he found that his hand was broken. That made the reloading difficult. He knew he could not afford to turn the lights on for risk of the guardians easily seeing them and overwhelming them. Indeed, more enemies could be heard outside. As he fumbled in the dark, Kodell dropped the gun. Feeling the floor with his good hand, he could not find it.
Kodell tightened his grip on his denn'bok. He was not about to surrender. He had made himself a murderer at least four times this night. "Draal, we could rush them."
"No. We should find a way out. Dying or being mortally wounded is just a way to hide and wait out the changes. It'll only let the Ashen win. Do you wish it?" Draal paused before adding, "Callenn will be most distressed if that happens."
That decided it. "Let's go."
They pulled open a door into the next room. Callenn was there, sitting anxiously in a chair with wide eyes. This time, she was dressed in her Sisterhood robes. Instantly, she knew what the men needed.
"Go. The back is unguarded."
Kodell hesitated for a moment. "What about you, Callenn? Mayan?"
"The guardians wouldn't dare touch a Sister. I will allow them to assume that Mayan is a Novice under my charge. We will meet you outside the town. Go. Now."
Draal was already at the window and climbing over it. For a moment, only his fingers were visible on the sill, then they vanished, quickly followed by a thump on the ground outside.
Kodell cast a worried glance back at Callenn as he climbed over the windowsill.
Noise came of guardians rifling through Kodell's room, searching for their targets. "Go," she whispered urgently as she raised a veil over her face.
Kodell lowered himself down under the window, holding onto the sill with his hands. He dropped himself down into the inn's rear courtyard. Once Draal was sure that his friend was not injured, except for his broken hand, he asked, "what now?"
The courtyard was enclosed so there was no direct way out. Shouts of protests came from behind as the guardians now searched other rooms. Kodell imagined he could hear Sister Callenn's voice joining the cacophony. His eyes immediately went to one of the surrounding buildings at the other side of the courtyard. All the shutters on the house were locked.
He and Draal looked at each other and nodded their wordless agreement. They bashed in one of the shuttered windows and jumped through it. They founded themselves in a bedroom occupied by several rather startled inhabitants.
Draal and Kodell bowed their apologies to the frightened residents and ran out a door. They tried to find a direct way out of the house but the place proved to be rather large. By the time they made it out into the street, they had kicked their way through several rooms, leaving a succession of open doors and startled sleepers behind them. Finally, they were outside and escaped into the night toward Yedor.
Becerra Alpha One
"There is one flaw though," Makin mentioned. "If the Federation hated outsiders, why would we allow new worlds to join? Why wouldn't we hate them and keep them out?"
"That is actually the easiest part of the plan," Jha'dur informed. "Independent worlds seek to join because they are afraid of being snapped up by another power, or because they wish to raise their standard of living with Federation commercial technology."
"So why let them exploit our better nature like this? Why don't the people riot and kill the alien as you want to believe?"
"Because of something called the 'White man's burden' Captain, or in a more contemporary context 'the Federation burden'. The aliens around are not evil, they are just misguided. Their not as enlightened as you are, not as civilized. We should pity them and take it upon ourselves to educate these barbarians, to bring them to our level where they will automatically become just like us. Then they may join our Federation."
"Nice fantasy world you live in there."
"You believe the Federation is right and everyone else is wrong, and they must become like you or live in ignorance. Such arrogance astonishes even me."
"We respect self determination and accept other cultures."
"Unless they want to join the Federation, in which case they must change to match your rules of admission."
"No, not change their culture, just meet basic sentient rights."
"As defined under law, that blanket of the weak provided by the strong. My, doesn't that sound exactly like the attitude I've been describing? The mighty Federation nurturing and raising up their lesser neighbors?"
"You're still seeing things through your own twisted eyes, hardly an objective view of things is it?"
"As I said, I see this plan because I would have used it myself."
"Then you are just seeing what you want to see, not the truth," Makin replied. "Trying to sow seeds of doubt and discord."
"Exactly Captain, and I have to thank you for providing me with a platform to do so across the galaxy." She grinned coldly. "Going to be a magnificent trial."
"If you think anyone will believe your little rants…"
"Maybe not the obedient sheep of the Federation, but what about the Klingons? These noble savages you are allied with, uncivilized but handy in a fight. Able to shed and spill blood as well as your own people even when Starfleet sneers behind their backs."
"The Klingons know where we stand, faults included."
"Yes, they know your faults all too well. Captain."
"We're not perfect, I never said we were," Makin spoke honestly. "But we learn from our mistakes, build on what we know, and we accept people for what they are."
"I'm on the brink of weeping again." Jha'dur winced. "The problem with the Federation is that you think everyone wants to be like you, that you are the pinnacle of a society and everyone else aspires to the same heights. You seem to think that all you need to do is illuminate the errors in other civilizations and they will change overnight to become more like you and abandon their old culture as being wrong. I trust Captain Klaa has demonstrated that is not the case."
"Speak your poison," Makin said quietly. "Tell the whole galaxy, and let them hear you. Then let them see what you have done and what you truly are. Words or deeds Jha'dur, which do you think people will judge you by?"
"Neither Captain, I will just put voice to what they already know in their hearts." She beamed a wide smile. "I came to you with a deal, you turned on me and in so doing created an enemy."
"We have worse enemies than a delusional war criminal. We'll survive." Makin stood straighter. " Be ready for eleven hundred hours tomorrow for your hearing."
"I will relish it Captain." Jha'dur picked up her Klingon book and found her previous page. "I'll work on my delivery, after all Simon, all the world is a stage is it not?"
Minbar
Yedor:
The protest in the Valen'wa Circle had grown. Temples and education centers throughout the city were closed. As a result, more people joined the protest. The authorities soon found out what the protestors wanted. They thought that the government had not done enough to reach out to other worlds in peace, that it had gone too far in punishing people for the deaths of Dukhat, and that it had compromised too much of Minbar's sovereignty in favor of the Ashen in their zeal for victory over the enemies in the War of Sorrows. They also demanded freedom of information. This particular demand embarrassed the Ministry of Information which was only following orders coming down from above. In an effort for planetary security, the Ministry had shut down the official global communication network to stop the discussion of the self-immolation at the Ranger Temple, and now of the developing protest in Yedor's central circle. The only things coming through the network was the manipulated reports of the war's progress and the loud reports and analysis of the Norsai massacre committed by the barbarian Klingons who were deemed as no better than the Humans or Dilgar.
The people never had to think about their freedom of information until recently. For centuries, if there was something that they needed to know, they were told just what they required and no more. Minbari respected the privacy of others by not prying into their affairs. It was tradition. The conflicting reports of the enemies' conduct, of the war's progress and of the alleged Minbari victories, caused the people to talk among themselves, to share their views and knowledge. More often than not, they learned things about everything around themselves before they were told what they needed to know. Thus, they realized how easy it was for the government to manipulate how much they knew and how they perceived events in the galaxy. Some perceptive people have commented, "You never know how much you appreciate something until you lose it."
It was true.
The tranquility of the rigid Minbari traditional society had kept the turmoil concealed and the resentments suppressed. The self-burning of a priest at the Ranger Temple woke Minbari society. The various ministries, under orders from the Grey Council, and the Council of Caste Elders worked to maintain that tranquility. It was too late: the people had opened their eyes to the role that the Ashen had in their governance. The public execution of the young dissident by the Ashen was the last straw.
Hence, the protest at the Valen'wa Circle in the center of Yedor.
Usually, the plaza was used for the Shi'Ki installation ceremony in which a new Chosen One of the Grey Council was presented to the people before he or she was inaugurated at the Great Shrine of the Ancients on an island at the southern edge of the capital city. To honor the murdered Dukhat, there would be no Chosen One for ten years. On one side of the circle, the Chosen Palace contained the various ministries and the assembly rooms for the Council of Caste Elders, which was immediately below the Grey Council in terms of authority, where nine members from each caste, each Elder representing a clan, met. The Chosen Palace itself was built as if someone initially wanted a crystal pyramid and changed his mind after the first several stories, deciding to have a large geodesic dome that is flanked on two sides by tall slender crystal spires. Crystal spikes lined the government building's front. On all sides of the plaza, more slender crystal spires, spikes and buttresses curved up from other buildings and temples, with diamond-like crystal octahedrons added here and there for visual differences. The ground itself, now obscured by the crowd, was a lake of glass, smooth, dimly reflective and seamless as if water had flooded the plaza and solidified permanently.
On the other side of the Circle of Valen's Peace was the walled enclosure of the White Tower, headquarters of the Sisters of Valeria.
All this would make the protest highly visible to the powers that be.
And it was.