Chapter 8 – Truth Be Told – Part 2
April 22nd, 2260 17:45
Babylon 5 Blue Sector - Main Corridor
Furious, resentful, annoyed, and with his leg counting to act up, Robert Taggart was wound up enough to throttle someone. The current person by his side would make for an excellent target for his bound-up rage. If the situation were any different, he would have given into his darker impulses. But there was the tiniest flicker of curiosity tugging at him. Staying his hand. She intrigued him.
Keeping pace with his slower stride, she offered softly, "We are nearly there."
He thunked his cane hard against the solid floor and added in rising irritation. "You needn't walk so slow. I can keep up."
She glanced towards him with her gray-green eyes, and simply nodded. Her footsteps grew in speed, and she began pulling away from him. Taggart watched from her backside as she moved down the station's countless corridors. He resisted throwing up further angry insults over where they were going and why she couldn't just tell him what the hell was going on.
As much as it annoyed him, Robert found he really did want to know what Delenn — apparently a former Satai — was doing here. He chided himself that he did have to reserve the prospect she was simply crazy. Driven mad by grief and remorse over the war? Possible. If the reports he had read on her were accurate, Delenn had chosen to undergo whatever process that had changed her into some sort of half human hybrid. It was not something you would expect from the always prudent Minbari.
But Robert knew better. He saw past the Minbari's stoic surface they worked so hard to maintain and present to everyone. On Flinn Colony he'd seen their true face. Their real selves. The depths of their fervor. It was hidden most of the time, as if it were a slow-lit fire that smoldered in secret. But the war had brought their passions to the surface. And like a hidden fire that had burned for too long, it had burst forth as an inferno. That was what the Minbari really were. A thin veneer of pointless platitudes over something very violent. And once Robert had understood this truth, he had used their real nature against themselves.
Like following a well-worn path, his mind drifted back to the endless mountains of Flinn Colony. He remembered Kethenn chasing him on the narrow ledge of a colossal granite cliff. The impossibly deep chasm beneath them. The Warrior Caste leader screaming holy vengeance. Robert running to a dead end, nowhere to go. Kethenn with his triple-bladed knife raised, ready to strike. Then the trap. The boulders that had been carefully positioned, ready to fall. Kethenn's crushed and broken body.
And all the blood.
Still lost in old memories, he nearly collided with Delenn. They had come to a stop. Robert saw they were just outside the main security office. He steadied himself, not wanting to be so clumsy in front of her.
"What is it?" Delenn questioned with a mark of concern.
Robert knew why she asked. Whenever he allowed himself to be pulled back to that hellhole of a planet, his face took on a ghastly expression. Twisted by an elusive but every present pain. His eyes lost in impalpable horror. Surrounded by the memories of so much death, he briefly imagined a large rock slamming into her skull, just like Kethenn. Breaking her bone crest, matting her dark human hair red with blood. Minbari physiology was similar enough to Humans for their blood to be the same color.
He wondered to himself if that was not the real reason he held his rage in check around her. Had he not seen enough Minbari blood? Enough Human blood? He irritably pushed the thought away. Life did not work like that. There was no gauge which measured such things. Violence and blood were merely a part of the universe. You either dealt with it, or it would deal with you. He shook himself and took back control. He would not lose himself to the pain. This was not the time or place.
Bending his head down, so they could see each other eye to eye, he rasped out in a harsh whisper in her language, "Trust me, former Satai Delenn, you do not want to know."
She hurriedly looked away and went to press the control to open the security office door. Insane or not, Robert had to give her credit that she had enough common sense not to ask any further questions.
Robert had wondered why of all places Delenn had brought him here. He pushed down his tired frustration and stepped inside, hopefully to finally get some sort of answer. Inside the Central Security Office, he then had to do his level best to not react in surprise. For the room was full of people. Sheridan was there, standing next to his security chief, Garibaldi. He was seated at the large workstation console overseeing all of Babylon 5's security.
But he also saw Sheridan's second in command, Susan Ivanova standing next to a strangely dressed young man. Long dark hair ran down to his shoulders. He was outfitted in an odd black and gray cloak. Affixed to the right side of his chest was some sort of large metal pin with a green jewel centered within it. Next to him was another man, dark skinned and dressed in the same black uniform as Sheridan, Ivanova, and Garibaldi. Another of Sheridan's command staff guessed Robert. His gaze drifted down to a row of seats next to Garibaldi's station. Seated there was a Minbari man, appearing to be on the younger side. And there, next to him, most surprising of all, was William Stone.
While he took all this in, Sheridan quickly stepped up to Delenn, putting himself between her and the Robert. "Are you alright?" he asked, he noted of concern clear in his voice.
"I'm...fine, John," reassured Delenn after giving Robert a momentary glance. "We can speak on it...later."
He turned away from the affectionate relationship, that at least in Robert's mind boarded on the insane. Instead, he focused on his wayward science officer. "Hello, Robert," greeted Stone from his chair with his usual beaming smile. "I seem to have been kidnapped."
Beside him, the young Minbari insisted with a note of alarm. "You are not being held against you will Professor Stone. I merely requested you come with me to Mister Garibaldi's office, so we…"
Stone held up a hand, stopping the Minbari. "I'm giving you a hard time, Mister Lennier. No worries." He shifted back to Robert and Delenn, eyeing them speculatively. "Hmm, I see neither one of you tried to kill the other, so that's a promising sign."
The man's overly cheerful humor grated on Robert's already deeply foul mood. Riling out some of his anger, he bit off bitterly towards Stone. "You told her to talk to me?" as he jabbed an accusatory finger towards Delenn.
"No, I did not," protested Stone. "In fact, I counseled against it."
"There were things I needed to say to the General in private," interjected Delenn with a gentle, yet firm voice. "We may not have reached…"
Robert roundly cut her off "...And we're not going to! I have no interest in your past guilt or what you might want. You offered me the truth of what you're doing here. And I'd damn well better have it!"
Tension flew in the air for his outburst, and Robert loved every second. Although it felt good to finally vent, it was always so much more useful to see how people reacted to his anger. The subtle little clues in everyone's body language. Dismissal from William. The professor was used to his act and saw through it. The Security Officer Garibaldi remained impassive, as did the unnamed man with the long dark hair. Both was a tightly controlled men, judged Robert. Capable of keeping their heads in moments of stress. Ivanova and the other unnamed man traded a conflicted look, unsure on how to respond. Perhaps uncertain over their role.
For the Minbari, they were always hard to read. Seemingly unemotional to the point you would think they were carved out of rock. But Robert had already seen cracks in Delenn's self-control. She was deeply ashamed about the war. A weight of regret clung to her, and he could tell she hoped for some sort of amends. She looked away at his outburst, yet he still caught the disappointment in her face. As for the younger Minbari, his stance remained calm and collected, but his eyes betrayed him. He cast a worried glance to Delenn.
But of all those gathered, Sheridan's body changed the most. Became rigid. Defensive. Protective. Robert had seen the stress in man, and so far Sheridan had kept it largely in check. But not now. Striding forth, he put himself right in front of Robert, his eyes blazing with anger.
"I have had enough your attitude, Taggart!" barked Sheridan. "For the moment you stepped on this station you've been throwing your wight around like own it! As if we all need to bow down and count our blessings that the great General Robert Taggart showed up to save us!"
Robert could almost smile. About time Sheridan got down to it. Sticking his accusatory finger at Babylon 5's commander, he hotly countered, "From the moment I got here, Captain, you've given me nothing but the run around! I ask why the Minbari are here, guarding this station, and you can't give me an answer that remotely makes sense. That Whitestar ship, what is it? Where did you find it? Even the Valiant's sensors had trouble figuring out its hull." He paused, taking a needed breath, and added, "If you're upset about my attitude, then you only have yourself to blame."
"I didn't know if I could trust you," snapped Sheridan.
"And I still don't know if I can trust you," parried Robert.
"Please!" interjected Delenn, now putting herself between Sheridan and Robert, trying to put a stop to their growing argument. "I have said I will answer your questions, General. There is no need for further arguments with John."
Robert supposed he could have backed down, tried to offer a bit of an olive branch to Sheridan. But not with Delenn. Too much blood was between them. "Does he," glowered Robert towards Sheridan, "know about your past?" He shifted towards the Minbari hybrid, "Or should I tell him?"
Delenn held his exasperated gaze, countering with one of her own. But he saw the flicker of doubt in those gray-green eyes. She did not want to respond to his question. And Sheridan coldly returned his own glare, but there was a hint of doubt on his face. That was all Robert needed to answer his question. They trusted each other, but at the same time they were lying to each other. He could almost laugh, a Minbari Sati, probably with more blood on her hands than even Sheridan with destruction of their flagship, the Black Star. Trying to play at what? Allies? Friends? A romantic couple? Two insane fools?
Silence filled the room. It dragged until Stone cleared his throat and spoke to Delenn, "As I said, arguing with Taggart is not always the best of ideas. But sometimes we only learn by doing."
Yet the visible strain in the room remained, specifically between Robert and Sheridan. Neither side wanting to back down. It was, however, surprisingly resolved by Ivanova. "God, men and their pissing contests," she irritably muttered.
This resulted in a snort of amusement from Garibaldi. The first crack in the tension filling the room. Followed by a very befuddled look from Delenn. "A what contest?" she asked the Commander. This created only further laughter from the Security Chief and others in the room.
Embarrassed over something she had obviously meant to keep herself, Ivanova glanced between Sheridan and Robert to Delenn. She sighed, and answered, "I'll explain...later."
Still, the latent hostility had been broken and finally Sheridan put forth a conciliatory acknowledgment. "Look, I get it," he said with his fresh anger begrudgingly pulled back. "You wanted to be here to fight off Clark's ships. Or at Io Station with Hague. But you weren't, and it ticks you off."
Abruptly, fatigue of the entire day finally caught up to Robert. Even for him, he was tired of all the arguing. His ever-cursed right leg throbbed miserably, and he had to sit down. He limped over and took a seat next to Stone. Mostly to himself he let out a lamented sigh, "Damn it, Bill, why did you have to go and get yourself killed."
"I know," agreed Sheridan soberly as he followed Robert. "I wish he were here too. I would never been able to get this far without Hague."
Robert shook his head slowly, not really wanting to admit to his personal grief over his friend. It had been months since he had last talked to Bill. Been enlisted in his secret plans. Then for it to all fall apart. "I wouldn't have had the Valiant without him." Robert admitted. "He was the only one who still believed in me. Gave me a chance when everyone else had walked away."
"How did you know him?" asked Sheridan.
Robert wasn't much for reminiscing but would make an allowance this time. "When we were cadets, there was this ongoing poker game in the dorms. Kept hidden from the instructors at the Academy. Hague had been winning since the beginning of the semester, but I was determined to take him down. I kept losing, but all along I was figuring out when he was bluffing." He smiled at the old memory, "Never saw Bill so red-faced when I finally beat him." Robert let out a tired laugh, "Honestly, once I figured him out, I saw Hague was actually terrible at it."
"And yet he ended up leading the whole conspiracy against Clark as Earthforce's Joint Chiefs of Staff," put in Garibaldi. "Guess he got better at hiding his tells."
Robert shrugged with a bit of rye humor. "He started coming to me for tips. And I never did beat him again." Leaning forward on his cane, he shifted his attention to Delenn. She was standing next to Sheridan, listening to them reminisce over William Hague. "Alright," he announced to her, "Enough about the past. What is going on in the here and now?"
Delenn shook her head. "But the past is where we need to begin, General. There are beings in the universe billions of years older than either of our races. Once, long ago, they walked among the stars like giants. Vast, timeless... "
###
April 22nd, 2260 18:00
Babylon 5 Fresh Air Restaurant
"Hey, over here," waved Lieutenant Jessica Monroe from across table where a group of the Valiant crew had gathered. Andrea stopped Connor and pointed to the waving woman, who was sitting alongside Ensign Mashibe and several other members of the Valiant's crew "Come join us."
"Looks like we've found the others," observed Sargent Andrea Wilson. She led the way over to the table, weaving around other tables, chairs, and waiters carrying meals to hungry patrons. Connor did his best to follow her, still shaking off the effects of whatever he'd been drinking with Londo.
They made it to the table and were greeted warmly by the lieutenant. "Come on, take a seat," she said as she scooted her chair closer to Mashibe's.
Connor plopped down in one of the empty chairs, looking grateful to finally have a chance to sit down again. Since his rescue from Centauri ambassador, he and Andrea had been wandering all around the Red Sector of Babylon 5. Partly to complete his assignment from Professor Stone, partly to just see what was out there.
"What are you guys up to?" asked Andrea, as she took a seat next to Connor.
Jessica smiled knowingly at Mashibe and the others from the Valiant. In all there were nearly two dozen of the crew assembled between three pushed together tables. "Well, we were thinking about finding some entertainment, but it turns out we don't have enough money to both eat here and go to the casino."
"Not unless we want to sell our uniforms," quipped one of the marines.
"Or ourselves," joked Ensign Darius from the other side of the table.
Connor gave Jessica a questioning look. "Is he serious?"
"I don't think so...But who knows?" A mischievous smile grew on the older woman's face. "What do you think we could get for you?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'd get plenty," offered Mashibe, who was wearing a sly grin of his own. "Maybe even enough to pay for dinner."
"Huh, thanks," grumbled Connor, not sure he liked where the conversation was going.
"Oh, leave Connor alone," said Andrea, appearing to rise to his defense. "He's been busy harassing Babylon 5 ambassadors."
This got the attention of more than a few people around the tables. Andrea gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Yep, Connor here has met both the Minbari and the Centauri ambassadors."
Seeing that her help was just going to be more teasing, Connor slouched in his seat. "I got dragged into that by the professor, I swear."
Jessica crossed her arms. "Minbari, huh, how did the bonies act when you met them? And did Stone just want to meet them just to tick of the old man?"
"Yeah, they were kind of..." Connor struggled to find the right word. "...Different? Nice? Weird? I'm not really sure. I wasn't even there for very long. The professor sort of kicked me out."
"I'll bet," smirked Jessica. "So, what about the Centauri? How did you manage that?"
Connor and Andrea exchanged looks. He was not sure how much he should go into the whole 'Londo committed genocide on the Narns' part Andrea had revealed to him. Jessica noticed the exchange and gave them a curious look. "Did something happen?"
"Well," began Connor, but Andrea jumped in, this time providing a real defense for him.
"Connor spilled some Pak'ma'ra meal, and Londo - the Centauri ambassador - helped Connor out. Then he decided he wanted to take our little Connor to the local bar. The only problem is Centauri can basically inhale alcohol nonstop. Poor Connor was headed towards alcohol poisoning at the rate Londo was pushing drinks on him."
"He did?" Jessica eyed Connor critically. "I've heard stories about that guy. Londo Mollari, the Ambassador. He sounds like he's been everywhere and done everything."
"I believe it," admitted Connor.
"Well, you've obviously had a fun time, Connor," put in Mashibe. "I've been trying to talk up some of the locals. Everyone here is still on edge. Things got very dicey here when Clark sent in his people to take over the station. I guess there was a big shootout in Down Below between the B5 security teams and some ground pounders coming in on breaching pods."
"Sounds like we missed out on quite a party," observed Jessica.
"Yeah, it does," put in Lieutenant Tonya Jackson from one of the other pressed together tables. "Puts us in the what-the-hell-do-we-do-now category."
"What do you mean?" asked Connor.
Jackson shrugged. "We came here to join the General Hague's rebellion," she explained, her Australian accent thick. "Now that's pretty much over. So, what now? Stay here, play nice with the Minbari? Head out to one of the colony worlds? Or go our own way?"
"That's easy," dismissed Jessica. "We follow the General's orders."
Jackson exchanged looks with several other crew members of the Valiant, uncertainty clear on their faces. Jessica was quick to pick up on their doubt. The marine commander leaned back in her chair, her body language stiffening up. "What? Did you all think this was going to be a walk in the park? That Clark was going to roll over when Mars or Orion and the other colonies pushed back? That we'd get a parade and a hero's welcome?"
"Of course not," objected Jackson. "But it would have been nice to at least know what the hell we were doing."
Jessica's tone shifted, became softer. "The old man knows what he'd doing. He's gotten us this far. Let's give him a chance to finish what he's started."
Mashibe gave the Marine Commander a long look and nodded slowly. "Been with the man for two years, since I was assigned to Nereid Station. He's tough but fair. Got a certainty to himself a lot of people lack. That much I know. I'm not saying he doesn't know what he's doing. I don't think anyone is saying that."
"Then what are you saying?" asked Jessica, meeting Mashibe's steady gaze with steely eyed one of her own.
The younger man broke away, his eyes trailing down to the table. "Maybe I don't know. Maybe there's no answer. Everything feels like it's falling apart, you get what I'm saying?"
Unsurprisingly, there were nods of agreements from around the table. Jessica took in the assembled crew and being the XO, decided it was time for a bit of moral boosting.
"Alright, a bit of story time," began Jessica as she leaned in closer to the gathered tables, as did the others. "There's a reason why, when out of the blue, two weeks ago General Taggart contacted me and basically asked me to commit treason. You don't throw your career away like that, unless you have a very good reason. And my reason is Robert Taggart. "
Jessica let out a sigh, maybe it was as much for herself as it was for the rest. She didn't mind sharing personal details about herself, especially if it helped morale. Besides, this was a safe space, these were her people, and she was their XO. "Me and my old man never got along. He could deal with my brothers just fine. That old marine cliche about daughters being daddy's little girl? Not in our case. We butted heads over everything. And that's when he was around, which wasn't much."
She did not have tears for the next part. They had been shed a long time ago. Still, there was tightness in her chest, a hitch to her words. "Then comes the war with the Minbari. The damn bonies are blowing ships away left and right. And my dad ships out, part of planetary defense. The war goes on. But the Minbari haven't done anything in the way of ground action. Not until Flinn Colony. Right where he's stationed."
Her voice gained strength as she went on, "We didn't hear much about it at first. Only thing we knew was that the Minbari landed a bunch of troops. Got a few messages from Dad. Saying they're going to hold out. Going to be strong. Then nothing. Weeks go by. Then months. Nobody is saying anything. And deep down you know the truth...No one is coming back from that planet."
Silence filled the gathered group. Even the constant background chatter of the other patrons of the restaurant seemed to fade. Then Andrea broke it, the young sergeant declaring, "But the General did come back."
"You are goddamn right he did!" responded Jessica, a fierce smile on her face. She took a moment, letting the tempest of emotions inside her calm. "I don't know what the rest of you heard or was told about Flynn Colony or what Taggart did or didn't do. But I'll tell you what I know. I know that man, still severely injured, still in tremendous pain, came to visit me and my mother. He told us about my father. The people he saved. How well he fought. And how he died." She swallowed hard. "I know he visited every marine's family who was stationed on that world. He remembered every name. Every action. Every death. He carries them. He never forgets."
"That's the man who has gotten us free from a nightmare. And that's the man who will get us through this. The man who has gone to Hell itself and crawled all the way back. That's why I follow him. And that's why you should too."
She leaned back, taking in the faces of everyone at the gathered tables. The doubts were gone from their faces. Even a few fierce smiles appeared on her fellow stoic marines. But it was Lieutenant Jackson who truly brought the entire crew together. "Aye, now that we've got that settled, let's get down to drinking!"
Except for Conner Olson, cheers erupted from the crew of Valiant.
###
April 22nd, 2260 18:30
Babylon 5 Blue Sector Security Central
Captain John Sheridan had to admit that despite General Taggart being every bit the stubborn pain-in-the-ass everyone claimed him to be, he did know when to shut up and listen. For the last half hour as first Delenn and then himself had gone over everything — The Shadows, the Minbari's war with against them a thousand years ago, their awakening when the Icarus traveled to Z'ha'dum, the Rangers, Morden, Clark's involvement with Shadows, and the origins of the Whitestar — Taggart had carefully listened, hardly asking any questions.
Now through Michael's main security monitor, they were replaying their encounter with the out-of-control Shadow ship over Ganymede. On screen the Whitestar's gun camera tracked the spider-shaped Shadow ship as it gained altitude over the base it had just destroyed. The Whitestar raced towards it, ready to engage.
He heard his own words echo out from the recording, "Fire!" and bolts of plasma lanced out from the Whitestar and slammed into the Shadow ship. It was staggered, but it didn't slow down.
Unexpectedly, Taggart spoke up, "Stop the playback for a moment," There was a pause, and then he added, "Please."
Garibaldi touched a control at his console and the video playback stopped just as the Shadow ship returned fire with a focused beam of bluish-red energy. John watched as Taggart's eyes focused on the dark undulating surface of the Shadow vessel. Even with the video paused, the inky-black skin appeared to ripple and shift from the light of the distant sun reflected of its supple surface.
"Its structure looks completely seamless," Taggart pondered aloud. Turning to John, he made a one-word question, "Organic?"
"Yeah," nodded John. "The Shadows have quite the fix on organic technology. But so do the Vorlons. With their help, the Whitestar has comparable technology.
"Amazing," added Professor Stone. "I've never seen biomechanics on this scale before."
Taggart let out a soft whistle of appreciation as the play started up again. "It glides with an elegance of speed and purpose as though it had been born in the depths of space."
Lennier, whose focus was upon Taggart and his examination of the Shadow ship, critically observed, "You admire it."
"I do," admitted Taggart. Resting into the back into his seat, the General's mind was clearly churning over what he was examining. "Impressive design. I marvel at the engineering of a ship you don't build but grow."
John did not share Taggart's opinion. The man had not fought one yet. Nor hear the terrible scream it made as rushed in to kill you. But John did try to look at it from Taggart's point of view. Despite his military training, the man was first and foremost an engineer. Before getting the Valiant operational he had the legacy of building a number of impressive projects for EarthForce. He wanted to understand the Shadow ship. How did it work? Take it apart, put it back together. The same went for Professor Stone. It was why John was willing to share what they knew. The two might see something he had missed.
But Lennier's eyes widened at the General's admiration of the Shadow vessel. "It is a thing of darkness and destruction. It should not be praised."
Turning from the video screen, Taggart evaluated the young Minbari with a withering glare. "No reason it can't be both, boy. And I would point out your warships are also things of beauty and destruction."
Bitting back at responding to the General's rudeness to Lennier, it was clear Taggart's animosity towards the Minbari wasn't going to make anything easy. While he seemed whiling to listen to Delenn, trusting her was an entirely different matter. He reminded himself sometimes you did not have choice in your allies. John had always considered himself an avid history buff, and he knew all too well many alliances were born out of a need to defend against a greater power from people who would normally be enemies. Unfortunately knowing this fact didn't make his job any easier.
Garibaldi resumed the playback and soon the Whitestar was hurtling towards the colorful mixed-bands clouds of Jupiter, the Shadow ship in hot pursuit. The giant planet greedily pulled in both ships into the unending crushing atmosphere.
Without taking his eyes off the screen and the ongoing battle, Taggart spoke up, "I see what you were doing there, Captain. You can't outgun them, but you can outthink them."
"That was the idea, now that Shadow vessel is nothing but crushed up dust in the interior of Jupiter," agreed John. "Still, we barely got out ourselves."
"Clever," said Taggart. John was fairly sure he heard a note of approval in the General's one word response.
As the video ended, Professor Stone looked to Delenn, his eyes alight with intense curiosity. "You say there is only one person on those Shadow ships. Just the pilot?"
Delenn shook her head sadly. "I would not call them a pilot. It is more than that. They are part of the ship. Merged with it."
"It is thought those the Shadows use in their ships act like a CPU does for a computer," added Lennier.
Taggart repeated the question, his eyes still firmly on the shadow vessel. "But only one?"
"Yes," confirmed Delenn. "Just one. What records we had from our war with the Shadows always said one individual per ship. Never more than that."
Taggart turned his gaze to her, scowling. He eyed suspiciously, an ever-present challenge on his face. John noted that even sitting down he managed to maintain an intimidating presence. For her part, Deleen was not backing down either. Returning his icy glare. Deciding to derail a further argument between the two, he loudly cleared his throat.
"Do you have a thought on their ships, General?"
Taggart broke his stare down with Delenn and tapped the tip of his cane on floor several times in a row. His eyes were not focused on anything particular as he mulled over the question. Finally, he replied with a frown. "They are impressive ships. I can see why Clark wants one so badly. If he can capture one, reverse engineer it..." He left the sentence unfinished, but John understood what he meant. Clark capturing a Shadow vessel was something he tried not to think about.
"But" continued the General, "I do see one possible weakness. At least from what I've seen here." He pointed to the frozen image of the Shadow ship hanging in Jupiter's upper atmosphere. "It's the whole one pilot...core...whatever you want to call it. It's a single point of failure."
John studied the Shadow ship image. "Single point of failure?"
Stone leaned forward excitedly, understanding where Taggart was heading. "Yes, if the pilot is incapacitated, or disabled. That whole black monstrosity of a ship can't function, can it?" He looked to the Minbari for confirmation.
"I don't know that for sure, but I suppose it makes sense based upon what we know," conceded Delenn. "However, we've never been able to do such a thing. As you can see a Shadow ship is extremely well defended."
"I did not say it would be easy," Taggart flatly stated, his eyes refocused on the ship onscreen. "Few things ever are. I am looking at these ships from an engineering standpoint. These...Shadows either can't or won't put a secondary or backup onboard. No redundancies. That means it's a point of weakness."
Turning to John, Taggart continued, "Now how you exploit that? That, unfortunately, I have no idea."
Sheridan weighed the General's analysis. It made sense. From an engineering perspective, he was right. Every system onboard the Whitestar had multiple points of redundancies. Backup generators, fail safes. So did any EarthForce vessel. But the Shadows seemed confident that just one pilot was needed on their ships. Was that truly their ship's Achillies Heal?
Professor Stone spoke up, interrupting John's thoughts. "Delenn, you said a thousand years ago your people first encountered the Shadows. Were there other races involved in the war besides the Vorlons?"
Delenn nodded affirmatively. "A few of the other old ones fought, but we know little of what they did. It is said that Valen called many races together to fight with us. A few aided us, but many others declined. Hoping to escape the Shadow's wrath. It was not like it is now, with the league of non-aligned worlds or Babylon 5. Nothing to rally the different races. Why do you ask?"
"The Valiant was built a thousand years ago. Nearly exactly," explained Stone. "By whom we know very little about. From what I've been able to translate, the ship was built to fight a great enemy. Which indeed sounds very much like your Shadows. Could it be whoever built it was an ally of your Valen?"
"An intriguing idea," said Delenn, her interest clearly piqued by the notion. "But we have no record of a ship like the Valiant. If they fought the Shadows, they did not fight with us."
"You're missing a part here, William," offered Taggart as he tapped the top of his cane his finger, "we had no trouble targeting their ships." he pointed at Delenn. "But not their Whitestar. And what's the difference between the two?"
"Vorlons," answered the professor with a nod. "Of course it makes sense now. The internal computer matrixes of the Valiant must have been able to detect the Vorlon technology on the Whitestar."
"Which implies what?" questioned John. "That the Valiant's builders were allies of the Vorlons?" He thought back to his meetings with Kosh. The Vorlon was cryptic, mysterious, and frustratingly vague about everything. He was coming to believe the Vorlons did not so much have allies as they had people they used as tools.
Taggart did not answer, at least not directly. He was staring, rather intently, at the still picture of the Shadow ship. His fingers drumming along the handle of his cane. He was still deep in thought.
"General?" asked John, hoping to get him to focus back on the present.
Taggart glanced at him, and then back to the screen. Slowly his gaze panned about the room. From Garibaldi, to Sheridan, and then to Delenn. He locked eyes with her and then asked, "How long has this war between the Vorlons and the Shadows been going on?"
"A long time," answered Delenn. "Longer since either of our races have existed, perhaps a million years."
"And yet we're the ones getting dragged into their fight," commented Taggart bitterly.
"Well as you like to point out, General, life isn't fair, but that what we have to deal with," commented John wryly as he turned Taggart own words back on him.
Taggart actually laughed at John's remark. "I do, don't I?" He sighed. "Well, if we're going to pulled into a war with highly advanced race that wants to wipe us out, we've been there before." He said this to John while giving Delenn a pointed glance. "The Valiant would be a powerful advantage for our side. Perhaps even a key weapon against these Shadows."
"If," interrupted Stone, "we could get it fully functional. There are still many subsystems that are a complete mystery to us. And we barely have enough of a crew to keep the ship running."
Taggart gave a scowling sideways glance at his science officer but said nothing. Instead, he directed his next question to John. "So, what is the plan? How do we take the fight to these Shadows? So far it feels like all everyone is doing is fighting to keep their heads above water."
John let out a small snort of amusement. "Tell me about it. You're not wrong, General. We do need to move beyond defense. And we've been lucky so far. We've only had to face one of their ships at a time." He paused, considering grimly what would happen if they ran into multiple Shadow vessels. "But we're going to need to get ready. What do you need for the Valiant?"
"Everything," answered Taggart without hesitation. "Weapons, supplies, personnel. But if we are going to be a force in this war, we need more than that. We're going to need time. Like Stone said, we need time to get the ship fully running."
Sighing, John leaned back in his chair and exchanged looks with Susan and Garibaldi. They were going to have to squeeze their already meager reserves.
Susan spoke up, giving a once over on her data pad. "We'll give you what we can spare in the way of supplies and weapons. But we can't give you much. We're not exactly brimming with resources."
"Understood," said Taggart with a nod.
"As for personnel, we could supplement your crew with the Rangers," started John. Knowing he was going to start a line of discussion which was going to cause ire with the general. "Which will include..."
"No," interrupted Taggart, his voice firm. "Absolutely not. I will not have a bunch of Minbari on my ship."
"Why not?" challenged Delenn.
Taggart scowled at her, "You know damn well why."
She held his gaze, refusing to back down. "If we wish to win this war, you will have to learn to trust us, General."
Taggart glowered back at her. "I couldn't care less about trusting your people, ambassador," his voice dripping with contempt over her title.
"Enough," snapped John. "This bickering isn't helping anyone. Look, the truth is we need each other. And if we're going to survive this, we're going to have to work together."
Taggart for a moment said nothing, still staring daggers at Delenn, but then sighed and held up his hand in mock surrender. "You are right, Captain, rehashing old grudges won't get us anywhere."
John was not entirely sure if the General meant it, but he was willing to accept the concession. "Alright, we'll figure out a way to get you the support you need."
"I'll appreciate what provisions you can spare, but don't concern yourselves with crew. We'll have to manage on our own, because we're not staying."
It was John's turn to stare blankly at Taggart in surprise. The General had been nothing but insistent that they form an alliance to defend Babylon 5. Throw out the Minbari ships. Get ready to take on President Clark. Now he had changed his mind. "You're leaving?"
Taggart tapped his cane, something John was coming to see was a habitual gesture for the man. "The whole reason we came was to defend the station." Giving the Minbari in the room a disapproving look, he added, "But you are already defended. We're just going to get in the way."
"Robert, where are we going?" asked Stone. Taggart's declaration had taken the professor off guard as much as it had John.
Taggart turned to his science officer with a small smile. "William, before we decided to steal the Valiant, where had you been badgering me to send an expedition?"
"Well back to where the Valiant was found, of course. But we'd need a full survey team to..." Stone abruptly stopped talking as the realization hit him. "Oh! Oh, Robert, you sly dog."
"Wait," interjected John. "You're going back to where the Valiant was found?"
"Yes," confirmed Taggart. "I've been thinking about it for a while. Our work on the Valiant has been a slow process. It's taken nearly three years to get where we are now. Going about it little more than monkeys poking at a keyboard trying to write a novel." His gaze shifted back to the shadow ship. "We don't have that luxury anymore. If we're going to learn anything, we need to start at the beginning."
"That's very true," agreed Stone. "There could easily be something in that system the original expedition missed. With Valiant's advanced sensors, we could find it."
"When will you be leaving?" asked John, already making plans on how to get them the supplies they could spare.
"Tomorrow," replied Taggart. "We'll be departing after secure provisions and the crew has rested up."
"I see," said John slowly. He had to admit he was surprised by the direction of Taggart's decisions in response to learning about the Shadows and the oncoming battle. But he had to admit Taggart had a point about needing to speed up the rate of progress on the Valiant. If they could learn more about the ship's creators, it might prove invaluable.
"Well, I hope you find what you're looking for, General."
Taggart stood up from his seat, leaning heavily on his cane. "I hope so too. Because I believe it's the only way we're going to win this war."
###
April 22nd, 2260 22:00
Babylon 5 Downbelow
The man entered a dimly lit, cramped flop room. Not much more than a mattress and some personal effects strewn across the floor. It was impossible to tell how many others had used this confined space as temporary lodging for sleep, sex, drug use, or whatever else they may have done. He ignored the filth and squalor. The dank odor of sweat, vomit, urine, and decay. There was money to be made, and his client would be here soon. The current location was ideal for the transfer.
He did not have to wait long. The door opened and another man entered. He was smartly dressed, his suit pressed and clean. He was tall with a slight build, slick dark hair. His dark blue eyes glanced over the filthy room with obvious displeasure, but he affixed a professional smile to his face. The man waiting in the dingy room expected no less, they had business to at hand.
"Mister Mordern," said the waiting man to his visitor the moment the door closed. "It is a pleasure to see you again."
"Likewise," replied Mordern. "I trust everything went well."
"Tricky, but I was able to plant the tracker on that crystal ship, in the location you specified."
Mordern's smile grew wider. "Excellent. And I assume all traces of your work were cleaned up?"
"Of course, Mister Mordern," the man assured him. "The security systems were accessed and disabled for the period of time required. The maintenance bot used to plant the tracker had its records erased, and all the cameras were looped. My work depends upon being untraceable." He paused for a moment, wondering if his current client was questioning his ability. "I hope there's no concerns."
Morden's smile became genial. "Not at all. It's just that my associates are insistent that in this case, there be no loose ends."
"I understand completely," agreed the man. "I assume you have brought the rest of my fee?"
"I have." Morden reached inside his suit jacket and produced a small data crystal. He placed it on the ground between the two men. The man knelt and picked up the crystal, frowning. He examined it for a quick second, realized it was blank and then looked up at his client.
"What is this? This is not what we agreed to."
Morden's smile faded. "As I said, in this case, there can't be any loose ends."
Standing up slowly, the man slid his hand back along his coat. To his concealed gun holster. This was not the first time a client had tried to change the terms of a deal. He was prepared for such problems. His hand gripped the pistol's handle, ready to pull it free.
"I'm disappointed, Mister Morden, my work is always performed perfectly. I have never failed a client. You honestly think I'm going to talk to station security?" In a quick motion he drew his weapon, leveling it at Morden. "Now, if you don't mind. I'd like to be paid upon our original agreement."
But Morden was not even looking at him, his eyes were locked on an empty corner of the room. He cocked his head slightly, as if listening to something. Absently, still without looking at him, Morden responded, "Station security is the least of my associates' concerns."
The man tensed up. Something was wrong, but he didn't understand what. He took a step back, keeping his aim squarely on his target. "Then what is it you're concerned about?" Morden gave no answer, and further prompting was cut off as the lights in the room suddenly began to flicker. The man shifted his aim to the light panel. His eyes darted around the room.
The lights strobed erratically. On. Off. On. Off. Shadows flickered around the room. The feeling of danger grew in the pit of his stomach.
"What the hell..." he cried as he saw the shadows in the room move in ways that were all wrong.
"Sorry," said Morden. He sounded almost apologetic.
The man stumbled back, trying to escape. Except in this tiny, dingy room, there was no escape. He tried to scream, but his words were cut short when something unseen wrapped around his neck jerking him backwards. He stumbled and fell hard on the ground. He fired his gun twice in panic. But the PPG rounds bounced harmlessly off the wall. He rolled onto his back and looked up. His mouth gaped open as a large shape formed in the flickering darkness above him. Something with many glowing eyes, and long sharp talons...
###
April 23rd, 2260 07:30
Babylon 5 Passenger Lounge
Robert Taggart looked over his assembled crew, gathered in the passenger lounge of Babylon 5's commercial docks. It was early enough in the day for the area to be lightly trafficked with visitors. The crew took up a decent portion of the lounge. And they were a disorganized mess. He had seen enough crews on shore leave to tell when the celebrations had gotten out of hand. Many of them with bloodshot eyes, those with unsteady footing, or the stale alcohol smell wafting off them. He knew all the signs all too well. Hell, a few years ago he would have been in the same condition, likely much worse.
Many of them shifted uncomfortably under his frosty glare. He raised his cane and smacked it solid wooden handle hard against the nearest support column. It rang like a cloister bell, cutting through the chatter. Everyone jumped. The few who hadn't been paying attention quickly snapped to attention.
"I will keep this brief," he announced in a booming voice. "Our mission was to join up with General Hague and his forces. Unfortunately, this is no longer possible. It is true Hague's rebellion has failed. Clark is now in control of a majority of EarthForce combat forces. While several colonies, including Babylon 5 have broken away from Earth, none of them are able to actively engage Clark's forces."
He paused, letting the impact of his words sink in. Many of them had heard variations of these truths since their arrival. But it paid to have said clearly and plainly what their situation was. He continued, "This does not mean we're giving up, but it also means we're changing our mission going forward."
Here he took a breath, pausing for effect. He had spoken with Stone the previous night, planning how they would carry out their mission to the Valiant's original home.
'From where it all began,' That was what Kosh had said. The Vorlon. From everything he had learned yesterday, he was getting the extraordinarily strong suspicion that the Vorlons and Shadows were involved in more than just a war between two advanced civilizations. Sheridan and Delenn seemed ready to consider it a fight between Good versus Evil. Light versus Dark. But Robert was too cynical to believe in such things. There was something else behind it all, but at this point he could only guess the motives of beings that defied easy comprehension. So, he would play the game for now, until he could understand more.
"We are heading back to where the Valiant was originally found. We need to learn more about its origins and who built it. I understand that's not the mission many of you signed up for, but it's the one we are going to carry out." He eyed his crew, gauging their reactions. Most appeared confused, but he noticed a few nodding. They understood what he was asking of them.
"If any of you want to leave, this is the time. Captain Sheridan and his staff will assist in getting you set up on the station, or you can attempt to make your way to one of the other breakaway colonies. I will not hold it against you." He waited, letting his offer sink in.
'If you follow the path, it will destroy you.'
'Then I'm destroyed'
'And those who follow you?'
Was Kosh trying to help? Warn him off? Or was the Vorlon just being difficult? Robert considered the possibility that just because you could be millions of years ahead in evolution did not mean you couldn't be an asshole.
Lieutenant Jessica Monroe, probably sporting the worst hangover of the group, stepped forward. She swayed for a moment but managed to steady herself and put herself to attention. "Sir, we're with you, sir!"
Behind her, Sergeant Andrea Wilson echoed, "Aye, sir!"
Soon the chorus of affirmatives rang out, as the entire crew shouted their approval. Taggart could not help but smile. He might not have a full crew for Valiant, but he would not trade these people for anyone in the universe. "Alright, we depart within the hour. We'll begin boarding the Valiant immediately."
The assembled crew began to break up, preparing to make their way to the waiting shuttle to take them back to the waiting Valiant. Turning around, he found Professor William Stone leaning against the far wall of the lounge, having watched his speech. As he crossed the lounge, William fell in beside him. The professor leaned over and asked, "Did you expect any other outcome, Robert?"
"I did not," admitted Robert. "Still, I had to ask."
"True," conceded William. "And we would not have gotten this far without them. I am, however, concerned about keeping some of the more...shadowy parts from them." Robert stopped and gave his science officer a hard look. Stone shrugged, "Just saying."
"I know," replied Robert as they resumed walking as they headed towards the two figures waiting at the entrance of Babylon 5's arrival area. "But this whole million-year war we are unknowingly part of isn't the simplest thing to explain. Especially when we don't understand much of what's going on."
"Fair enough," conceded William.
Approaching the two waiting individuals, they both came to a stop. Captain Sheridan and Ambassador Delenn and come to see them off. The professor, as usual, went through a Minbari ritual greeting and then the act of farewell. "Madam Ambassador, I most sincerely hope that the next time we meet, it is under better circumstances."
"As do I, Professor Stone," she replied. "Safe travels."
"Thank you." Stone bowed slightly and turned to Babylon 5's captain and extended his hand. "The same goes for you, sir."
Sheridan shook his hand firmly. "Same to you, Professor. Be careful out there. And good luck."
Stone nodded and then headed towards the exit. Sheridan turned to Taggart. They stared each other down. They were two men who were not going to find much common ground. But they would still be allies out of necessity. Sheridan broke the silence, "Good luck out there, General." He then straightened up, his hand snapping to his forehead in salute.
Taggart did the same. "Thank you, Captain."
That left Delenn, and Robert most certainly was not going to be bowing. Her grey-green eyes held his. "General," she said evenly.
He could have just turned and left without saying anything. But to be honest he was in a good mood. He turned back to Sheridan, his face twisting with a self-satisfied smirk. "Starkiller, that's what the Minbari call you."
Sheridan shared a look between Delenn and then back to Taggart. "I know. But I don't let the past define who I am now. Something I'm hoping, General, you're coming to understand as well."
"Understand," echoed Robert as he stepped closer to the pair, "Oh, I understand that. But that's not why I brought it up."
"Then why?" asked Delenn, her own voice wary.
"Just that your Warrior Caste gave me a name as well. I guess it didn't get the same notoriety as yours's Captain."
Sheridan couldn't keep the look of foreboding off his face. "What name would that be?"
Robert leaned in closer, his smile growing wider and colder. "Jasth'anec - Bloodbringer, I have to say, I rather liked the title."
Delenn stiffened at the name, her eyes widening as she stared at back at him. Robert smiled aloofly at her discomfort for a moment before turning around and began following his departing crew.
"Your warriors thought I was dead, Delenn," called back Robert, "you should let them know Jasth'anec is still very much alive."
###
April 23rd, 2260 07:45
EAS Valiant
Captain Edward Shane was going insane. That was the only explanation. He had been stuck in this empty pit in one of one of the Valiant's twisting corridors for who knows how long. The hole was circular, about two meters wide, and just about four meters deep. The walls were made of smooth crystal, perfectly polished. There was no visible means of climbing out.
After being roughed up by Lieutenant Monroe and being questioned by General Robert Taggart, the traitors had decided to 'keep him in the case they needed him'. They had thrown him into this hole, dropped in a bunch of food rations, some water bottles, and a bucket. And then they had left him.
For a few hours after being tossed in the hole, Edward had yelled and screamed. Threatening them. Promising retribution. But no one had listened. The Valiant's interior was a vast labyrinth, and he knew it was likely no one was hearing him.
So, he sat. Hunkered down. And waited. Time passed. It was silent and dark in the hole. He had eaten one of his rations and then fallen asleep. When he had awoke, he had no idea how much time had passed, but he found he needed to relieve himself.
He had yelled again and again. Finally, someone came. On of his wayward marines.
"I need a bathroom!" Edward had barked up at the man.
The big soldier had looked down at him and laughed. "We gave you a bucket, Shithead. Use it."
Edward had growled at the marine. "You'll be court martialed when I get out of here."
The marine had just laughed at him and walked away.
Edward had reluctantly used the bucket. But he was not happy about it. He had never been forced to use a latrine before in his life. The indignation. And time had passed. He slept, ate, and used the bucket. Nothing else. He saw they had checked on him a couple times, but beyond that he was alone.
And at some point, he had begun to hear the voices.
They were indistinct, faint, and barely audible. Like the whispers of ghosts. They spoke in a language he did not understand. He tried to ignore them at first, but they kept returning. Repeating. Persistent. Never loud enough or long to make sense of the rambling noise.
So, he must be going insane.
Edward lay on the hard crystal floor, trying to sleep. But the damn whispers kept nagging at him.
"Shut up!" He screamed at the voices.
Surprisingly, they stopped. Edward liked the idea if he was going to be crazy, it was nice his mind was obeying his commands.
But the silence didn't last. New sounds came. Not voices. Not exactly, many tones, different frequencies of sounds.
Something like music.
Soft at first. Almost imperceptible. It grew louder and louder. The melody was off key and distorted, but there was distinct rhythm to the sounds.
And Edward knew it was real. He wasn't going crazy. Well, maybe he was. But he was definitely hearing music. Or something like it. He could feel it now, the vibrations in the air. He put up his hand to the curved wall, and he felt the soft humming sound. The crystals were vibrating.
The ship was singing. Or was it just the space in this little hole he was in? Edward was not sure.
"Hello?" he called out.
The song countied, but heard a new voice now. "H-H-H-e-e-e-l-l-l-l-l-l-o-o-o."
His voice echoed back to him.
"Are you trying to communicate with me? Hello?"
"Com-m-u-u-u-n-i-i-i-cate."
Edward blinked. He got up and walked the length of the hole. He ran his hands against the smooth crystal walls. "That's right, communicate. Talk to me."
"M-m-o-o-r-r-e-e"
Edward was puzzled for a moment, but realization dawned. The ship or whatever was trying to learn his language. It needed more sample data. "Alright. I'm Captain Edward Shane of the Earth Aliance. I'm a prisoner on this ship. Can you help me?"
"H-h-e-e-l-l-p-p."
"Yes, yes," encouraged Edward. "If you can help me, I could help you."
All of a sudden, the voices and the odd melody went silent. His dark, empty prison was quiet. The silence stretched on. Edward sighed, sinking down into the corner of his little prison. "Damn," he cursed.
But then a new voice came. Not the unintelligible ones from before, not his echo words, but a clear, pointed speech. Neither male nor female, but something synthesized and mechanical.
"Can. You. Hear. Me?"
Edward shot to his feet. "Yes! Who are you?"
"Valor of the Suns."