Walking with Vorlons
Apr. 21st, 2019 07:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartJust a short scene - well, two short scenes - from Chapter 25 of Kansas 2, the Babylon 5/Star Trek Voyager crossover I'm currently working on. If you aren't interested in those fandoms or in my scribblings, feel free to ignore everything behind the tag.
Ulkesh Naranek, Babylon 5’s resident Vorlon – and the eyes and ears of his brethren among the younger races – was surprised. That was something that had rarely happened to any member of his ancient race during the recent millennia.
As a rule, Vorlons were capable of foretelling the ways their… charges would react – and the possible outcome of said reactions. In fact, they counted on those reactions and consequences in their never-ending, circular struggle with the Adversaries. Free will was a mere myth, after all; an illusion that both sides used to move their pawn across the galactic chessboard according to their goals and purposes.
It had been working like that for thousands upon thousands of years; for much longer than the younger races – even the Minbari – would remember. Now, however, one of those pawns had developed and independence the Vorlons had not calculated with. Compared with the other younger races humans were still a rather primitive one; and belligerent at that. But they had potential, and their progress was more dynamic than anything the Vorlons had seen before. In the time span of a mere two millennia, they had developed from using primitive hand weapons – like swords and bows – to a space-faring race (even though the Centauri had been of some assistance with that). Compared with them, all other races appeared to be stagnating.
And now one of them had managed to unite many of the younger races and dealt the Adversaries a blow that shocked even the Vorlons. For the young ones had managed to do so without their guidance. Granted, it had been a minor skirmish in the context of the eternal struggle between order and chaos, but they had won it entirely on their own.
That was a worrying aspect. The younger races weren’t supposed to act – and succeed! – on their own. They were supposed to follow the path shown them by the Vorlons; to prove that order was stronger than chaos. As the Minbari had done every time the eternal war had reached a new cycle.
Unlike the Minbari, though, humans were an unpredictable race. They could be violent like the Narn, easily corrupted like the Centauri, could hold grudges longer than any Drazi and be more prejudiced and self-important than the Markab… and yet they were capable of astonishing acts of compassion and self-sacrifice, too.
The problem with humans was that one could never foretell how they would react in any given situation. They were relatively new players in a very old game; still full of energy and enthusiasm. And they were annoyingly independent, acting as they saw fit, instead of waiting for proper guidance.
The fate of Kosh – the original one – proved how dangerous it was to become affiliated with humans. In his efforts to guide the one named Sheridan – the one foreseen to lead this cycle’s struggle on the side of order, as Sinclair/Valen had led the previous one – Kosh had been manoeuvred into premature action and paid with his life for it.
He had broken the one ancient rule honoured by both sides from the beginning: never to enter the battle themselves. They were supposed to guide, to teach, to influence – not to go to battle in behalf of their pawns. A mere human shouldn’t have been capable of blackmailing a Vorlon into such condemnable action – and yet Sheridan had managed to do so.
And now Kosh was dead. The first of them to truly die for an immeasurably long time. All he had known, all he had been was lost, forever, leaving an empty space in the Vorlon continuum – an empty space that could never be filled again.
Ulkesh had long suspected that the humans – or rather this particular human – were hiding something from him… from them all. He ha felt this faint, barely noticeable taint ever since coming aboard of Babylon 5. It was different from what he usually could feel from the agents of the Adversaries: more subtle, yet somehow similar. It was a constant presence, neither growing nor lessening, but it was there.
Could it have done something with Sheridan’s recent, unexpected victory in battle? If yes, then Ulkesh needed to find out what it was. However, drawing attention would be a mistake, and he was hard to overlook in his bulky environmental suit. A more… subtle approach was required. It was time for his useless vessel to do something to justify her miserable existence.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Galen had kept close watch on the new Vorlon ambassador ever since Ulkesh’s violent encounter with Voyager’s sprite-like little alien med tech. No-one else could have done so, but his instruments were based – originally – on Shadow technology, and thus they were on par with that of the Vorlons, only on a much smaller scale.
At least his surveillance couldn’t be detected, not even by Vorlons; and it alerted him whenever said Vorlon was about to leave his quarters – or had a visitor.
Therefore the alarm went off dutifully as soon as Lyta Alexander entered said quarters, and Galen watched with growing concern as the Vorlon left his environmental suit and ‘merged with his vessel’, as the entering of a modified humanoid body by a purely energy creature was commonly called (among techno-mages anyway).
Based on Lyta’s expression, the process couldn’t be very pleasant; or the Vorlon was being deliberately cruel. Galen wouldn’t put it beyond this Vorlon.
In any case, by using his vessel to carry him across the station unseen, Ulkesh was clearly planning something he did not want the rest of the world know of; and that made Galen nervous. Vorlons could feel the echoes of Shadow influence if they put their mind to it, and they were usually eager to wipe it out. That fact meant danger for both Galen and the frozen telepaths in the MedLabs.
So far, the frequent presence of Mr. Morden and the other occasional visit from other Shadow agents had successfully shielded them. But now that Mr. Morden had left, together with the two Shadows constantly accompanying him, the Vorlon would be able to home on to the subtler signals of dormant Shadow technology.
For some reason Galen still failed to understand, both Vorlons had ignored the actual Shadow agents; perhaps because they were a know quality. But he was certain that Ulkesh would show no mercy for the frozen telepaths – assuming that he, or any other Vorlon, was capable of mercy, which he very much doubted.
The telepaths in their cryogenic coffins would be defenceless against the Vorlon. Galen needed to do something – and the only thing he actually could do on his own was to draw the Vorlon’s attention away from them… onto himself.
It was a risky move, at best. Most Vorlons considered techno-mages to be Shadow creatures, and should it come to an open confrontation, Galen couldn’t be certain that he would be able to hold his own against Ulkesh. Even weakened by being carried outside a human vessel and cut off the advanced technology of his environmental suit, the Vorlon was a formidable adversary.
But he had to keep the telepaths safe. They were more important for the outcome of the war than his survival. He had left detailed instructions for Seven of Nine in case of this untimely demise. The rest would depend on the Borg.
Decision made, Galen cast an invisibility spell around himself, switched on his personal shield and left his ship, heading for the MedLabs as quickly as he could.
Comments disabled because that makes it easier for me to deal with their nonexistence.
Ulkesh Naranek, Babylon 5’s resident Vorlon – and the eyes and ears of his brethren among the younger races – was surprised. That was something that had rarely happened to any member of his ancient race during the recent millennia.
As a rule, Vorlons were capable of foretelling the ways their… charges would react – and the possible outcome of said reactions. In fact, they counted on those reactions and consequences in their never-ending, circular struggle with the Adversaries. Free will was a mere myth, after all; an illusion that both sides used to move their pawn across the galactic chessboard according to their goals and purposes.
It had been working like that for thousands upon thousands of years; for much longer than the younger races – even the Minbari – would remember. Now, however, one of those pawns had developed and independence the Vorlons had not calculated with. Compared with the other younger races humans were still a rather primitive one; and belligerent at that. But they had potential, and their progress was more dynamic than anything the Vorlons had seen before. In the time span of a mere two millennia, they had developed from using primitive hand weapons – like swords and bows – to a space-faring race (even though the Centauri had been of some assistance with that). Compared with them, all other races appeared to be stagnating.
And now one of them had managed to unite many of the younger races and dealt the Adversaries a blow that shocked even the Vorlons. For the young ones had managed to do so without their guidance. Granted, it had been a minor skirmish in the context of the eternal struggle between order and chaos, but they had won it entirely on their own.
That was a worrying aspect. The younger races weren’t supposed to act – and succeed! – on their own. They were supposed to follow the path shown them by the Vorlons; to prove that order was stronger than chaos. As the Minbari had done every time the eternal war had reached a new cycle.
Unlike the Minbari, though, humans were an unpredictable race. They could be violent like the Narn, easily corrupted like the Centauri, could hold grudges longer than any Drazi and be more prejudiced and self-important than the Markab… and yet they were capable of astonishing acts of compassion and self-sacrifice, too.
The problem with humans was that one could never foretell how they would react in any given situation. They were relatively new players in a very old game; still full of energy and enthusiasm. And they were annoyingly independent, acting as they saw fit, instead of waiting for proper guidance.
The fate of Kosh – the original one – proved how dangerous it was to become affiliated with humans. In his efforts to guide the one named Sheridan – the one foreseen to lead this cycle’s struggle on the side of order, as Sinclair/Valen had led the previous one – Kosh had been manoeuvred into premature action and paid with his life for it.
He had broken the one ancient rule honoured by both sides from the beginning: never to enter the battle themselves. They were supposed to guide, to teach, to influence – not to go to battle in behalf of their pawns. A mere human shouldn’t have been capable of blackmailing a Vorlon into such condemnable action – and yet Sheridan had managed to do so.
And now Kosh was dead. The first of them to truly die for an immeasurably long time. All he had known, all he had been was lost, forever, leaving an empty space in the Vorlon continuum – an empty space that could never be filled again.
Ulkesh had long suspected that the humans – or rather this particular human – were hiding something from him… from them all. He ha felt this faint, barely noticeable taint ever since coming aboard of Babylon 5. It was different from what he usually could feel from the agents of the Adversaries: more subtle, yet somehow similar. It was a constant presence, neither growing nor lessening, but it was there.
Could it have done something with Sheridan’s recent, unexpected victory in battle? If yes, then Ulkesh needed to find out what it was. However, drawing attention would be a mistake, and he was hard to overlook in his bulky environmental suit. A more… subtle approach was required. It was time for his useless vessel to do something to justify her miserable existence.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Galen had kept close watch on the new Vorlon ambassador ever since Ulkesh’s violent encounter with Voyager’s sprite-like little alien med tech. No-one else could have done so, but his instruments were based – originally – on Shadow technology, and thus they were on par with that of the Vorlons, only on a much smaller scale.
At least his surveillance couldn’t be detected, not even by Vorlons; and it alerted him whenever said Vorlon was about to leave his quarters – or had a visitor.
Therefore the alarm went off dutifully as soon as Lyta Alexander entered said quarters, and Galen watched with growing concern as the Vorlon left his environmental suit and ‘merged with his vessel’, as the entering of a modified humanoid body by a purely energy creature was commonly called (among techno-mages anyway).
Based on Lyta’s expression, the process couldn’t be very pleasant; or the Vorlon was being deliberately cruel. Galen wouldn’t put it beyond this Vorlon.
In any case, by using his vessel to carry him across the station unseen, Ulkesh was clearly planning something he did not want the rest of the world know of; and that made Galen nervous. Vorlons could feel the echoes of Shadow influence if they put their mind to it, and they were usually eager to wipe it out. That fact meant danger for both Galen and the frozen telepaths in the MedLabs.
So far, the frequent presence of Mr. Morden and the other occasional visit from other Shadow agents had successfully shielded them. But now that Mr. Morden had left, together with the two Shadows constantly accompanying him, the Vorlon would be able to home on to the subtler signals of dormant Shadow technology.
For some reason Galen still failed to understand, both Vorlons had ignored the actual Shadow agents; perhaps because they were a know quality. But he was certain that Ulkesh would show no mercy for the frozen telepaths – assuming that he, or any other Vorlon, was capable of mercy, which he very much doubted.
The telepaths in their cryogenic coffins would be defenceless against the Vorlon. Galen needed to do something – and the only thing he actually could do on his own was to draw the Vorlon’s attention away from them… onto himself.
It was a risky move, at best. Most Vorlons considered techno-mages to be Shadow creatures, and should it come to an open confrontation, Galen couldn’t be certain that he would be able to hold his own against Ulkesh. Even weakened by being carried outside a human vessel and cut off the advanced technology of his environmental suit, the Vorlon was a formidable adversary.
But he had to keep the telepaths safe. They were more important for the outcome of the war than his survival. He had left detailed instructions for Seven of Nine in case of this untimely demise. The rest would depend on the Borg.
Decision made, Galen cast an invisibility spell around himself, switched on his personal shield and left his ship, heading for the MedLabs as quickly as he could.
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