Babylon 5 - 03 - Blood Oath

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Babylon 5
Blood Oath
John Vornholt
Based on the series by
J. Michael Straczynski
For Nancy, who never loses her sense of humor
Historian's Note: This story takes place prior to
the events in "The Coming of Shadows."
CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1.4
CHAPTER 2.7
CHAPTER 3.12
CHAPTER 4.17
CHAPTER 5.20
CHAPTER 6.27
CHAPTER 7.32
CHAPTER 8.38
CHAPTER 9.43
CHAPTER 10.47
CHAPTER 11.53
CHAPTER 12.60
CHAPTER 13.66
CHAPTER 14.73
CHAPTER 15.80
CHAPTER 16.85
CHAPTER 17.90
CHAPTER 1
The datacrystal was dark, like a smoky quartz, and Ambassador G'Kar twisted it between his fingers.
He marveled at the way its subtle facets could absorb and access data at speeds that rivaled the Narn
mind. The best data crystals were grown on Minbar, and this one had the look of top quality. Something
caught G'Kar's eye, and he furrowed his spotted cranium and squinted at the crystal's metallic connector.
That was odd. The date and microscopic identity pattern had been removed by a laser beam, making the
crystal all but untraceable. Who would want to send him an untraceable data crystal in his regular mail
pouch?
Intrigued, the ambassador stood up and slipped the crystal into the viewer on his wall. A female Narn
appeared on the screen, and what a female Narn she was! Young and slender, she was wearing a
flowing gown of blood-red material, and it was cinched with a belt and scabbard which accentuated her
curves. Her red eyes gleamed with intensity and arrested G'Kar to the spot. He didn't know what the
young Narn was going to say on this recorded message, but she certainly had caught his attention.
"Hello, G'Kar," said the woman imperiously. "Do you recognize me? I am Mi'Ra, daughter of Du'Rog. I
speak for my mother, Ka'Het, and my brother, T'Kog. We are all that is left of the family you destroyed.
Yes, G'Kar, we are beaten, and our titles and lands are gone. Our father is dead, his name disgraced,
and his attempt to kill you from the grave was a failure. To our shame, every assassin has failed."
G'Kar swallowed hard and leaned closer. He dreaded what was coming next.
Mi'Ra's lovely face contorted into rage. "You think you are safe within the Third Circle and the Earth
space station. You are wrong! The widow, the son, and the daughter of Du'Rog have sworn the
Shon'Kar against you! No more will you face inept assassins but the very family you destroyed! The
Prophets willing, by my own hands you will die. From this day forward, the purpose of ourV'Tar is to kill
you. Let this mark show my will."
With that, Mi'Ra pulled a short but vicious-looking sword from her scabbard and pressed the blade to
her head. At once, the blood streamed from the wound and flowed down her delicate cheekbone to her
neck and shoulder, where it mingled with the identical color in her gown. Involuntarily, G'Kar reached up
and touched his own scaly brow.
The viewer blinked off, and he snatched the data crys-tal from the viewer. He half-expected his
tormentor to leap out of the closet with her bloody knife. No, she was not here this moment, but she
would be here—someday. If he didn't do something about Mi'Ra, daughter of Du'Rog, she would strike
him down in the middle of din-ner or smother him while he slept. Knowing that, he would never sleep
again.
G'Kar dashed to his terminal with the impulse of ordering her arrest. He stopped himself, realizing that he
couldn't bring the full weight of his position down upon the family of Du'Rog. TheShon'Kar was a
tradition that was central to the heart of the Narn; if he squashed them, it would only win them sympathy.
Even Narn law would prevail against him. Worse yet, an action against Mi'Ra, Ka'Het, and T'Kog would
bring to light the whole unsavory business of his ascendancy to the Third Circle, his treachery, and
Du'Rog's disgrace. He had let this wound fester too long, and now the infection was about to
spread—unless he took his knife and cut it out.
G'Kar sighed and slumped back into his chair, the stiff leather of his waistcoat squeaking against the pelt
covering the cushion. He would have to do something—already the family of Du'Rog had made two
serious attempts on his life, and here was the daughter threaten-ing more! He could count on some
protection from Garibaldi and his security forces for as long as he remained on Babylon 5. But who
wanted to live like a hunted animal? Besides, the station was a sieve, with aliens and strangers of all types
filtering through by the hundreds every day. If Mi'Ra was as determined as she sounded, she would find
some way on to Babylon 5 and would stalk him until her Blood Oath was fulfilled. Only death would stop
her.
Therefore, thought G'Kar rationally, Mi'Ra would have to die. Ka'Het and T'Kog might listen to reason
if that firebrand in the red dress was gone. Who could he ask to help him? No self-respecting Narn
would take his side against such a well-deservedShon'Kar, and he couldn't share his secret with humans,
Minbari, or other races. If only he could kill Mi'Ra himself and make it appear as if somebody else had
done it. G'Kar glanced around his quarters, just to make certain that his foe wasn't hiding behind the
curtains. He remembered well the other attempts on his life, and how both had nearly been successful.
The order of business was first to put the daughter of Du'Rog off the scent, then make sure she was not
hunt-ing him faster than he could hunt her. When she was at ease, he would strike.
The ambassador tapped the link on his desk. "Good morning, Na'Toth."
"Good morning, Ambassador," his assistant answered crisply.
G'Kar cleared his throat importantly. "A special dis-patch has just come in, and I must return to
Homeworld immediately. I will pilot myself in my personal trans-port."
He could imagine her puzzled face as she said, "Ambassador, the cruiserK'sha Na'vas is arriving
tomorrow for a courtesy call. They could take you home in half the time of your transport."
"TheK'sha Na'Vas, "said G'Kar thoughtfully, "and my old friend, Vin'Tok. That is tempting, but I prefer
to pilot myself. I need some time alone—to think. I will be leaving in four hours, and I will do my own
packing. Cancel my appointments, make my apologies, and do whatever is necessary. If anybody asks,
this is personal business."
"Yes, Ambassador," said Na'Toth, not letting her sur-prise affect her efficiency.
"G'Kar out." He tapped the link and sat back in his chair. He wished he could tell Na'Toth his plans, but
he knew her feelings regarded theShon'Kar. Perhaps he could tell her when it was all over, if he was
victorious.
Commander Ivanova shifted on the balls of her feet as she surveyed her domain: Command and Control,
an air-filled bubble on the tip of the station. The com-mander's hair was pulled back from her attractive
face in a severe on-duty hairstyle, and she felt tense, although she didn't know why. The 50,000
kilometers of space surrounding the station were peaceful, even though departing traffic had fallen
somewhat behind schedule. The only one complaining was Ambassador G'Kar, which figured.
"Ten seconds to jump for theBorelian, "said one of the techs behind her.
Ivanova gazed at her monitor in time to see the jump gate blossom into pulsating rays of golden light.
Like a tunnel into infinity, the lights stretched along the length of the latticework and swallowed the
Centauri transport like a whale swallowing a minnow. Then the tube of light faded into blackness, leaving
nothing but the skeleton of the gleaming latticework.
"Captain in C-and-C," announced a voice.
"As you were," replied the cheerful voice of Captain John Sheridan. Ivanova turned around to see the
captain as he strode along the crosswalk, nodding to sub-ordinates. His hands were clasped behind his
back, which she had come to recognize as his nonintrusive approach. There was no emergency or urgent
business to discuss, but Sheridan still looked concerned about some-thing.
She gave him a brief nod. "Hello, Captain."
"Commander." He smiled boyishly. "How's traffic tonight?"
"Moderate. Departures are slightly behind schedule, but only one ship is complaining."
Sheridan frowned. "That would be Ambassador G'Kar, wouldn't it?"
"Yes," she answered. "He's in his personal transport, and he seems to be in quite a hurry to get out of
here."
Sheridan scratched his sandy-gray hair. "I just found out he was leaving. This is rather sudden, isn't it?
G'Kar isn't noted for leaving like this, without any ceremony."
"No, sir, he isn't. He was recalled to Homeworld unexpectedly. None of us knows why."
The communications officer broke in. "Commander, the ambassador wants to know if he's been cleared
for jump."
"Patch him in to me for a moment," said the captain.
At once, the Narn's spotted cranium and jutting jaw appeared on the monitor in front of Sheridan. He
looked agitated. "What is the delay?" demanded the ambassador. "Oh, hello, Captain Sheridan. Is there
some difficulty?"
"That was going to be my question," said the captain. "It's not like you to leave as suddenly as this, and I
won-dered if there was a problem. Is there anything we can do to help?"
The Narn shook his head impatiently. "I left word that this is a personal matter, which I must handle by
myself. I'll be checking in with Na'Toth, and you can consult her about my return. Am I cleared to
leave?"
Sheridan hesitated. "Have a safe trip, Ambassador. You know, it's a long way for someone to be flying
solo in a small craft."
G'Kar's eyes narrowed. "We all have responsibilities, and some of them we must face alone. Goodbye,
Cap-tain."
"Goodbye," said Sheridan.
Ivanova felt an odd apprehension as she went through the pre-launch checklist. "Goodbye" was such a
simple word; yet depending on how it was said, it could mean the cheerful parting of a few minutes or the
anguished parting of forever. There was something ominous in the way G'Kar and Sheridan had
exchanged those simple words. She glanced at Captain Sheridan, who was trying so hard to understand
the alien ambassadors and, at the same time, keep his distance from them. Sheridan had yet to learn how
futile it was to try to think like them, or how difficult it was to keep from being drawn into their intrigues.
She wanted to tell G'Kar good luck, but all she said was, "Narn transport, you are cleared for
departure."
As the small cigar-shaped vessel disengaged from the dock and glided into the starscape, Captain
Sheridan shook his head. "Was he in any kind of trouble with his government?"
"I don't know," Ivanova said with a shrug. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't know everything that goes
on here."
"Thirty seconds until jump," said a tech.
Captain Sheridan was just turning to leave when it happened. The instruments tracking G'Kar's one-man
ship shot off their scales.
"Reactor breach! Narn transport!" shouted a tech.
A colleague added, "Radiation increase of four hundred percent!"
Ivanova pounded her communications panel. "Narn transport, come in! G'Kar!"
The small ship continued to drift for a second until it exploded into a searing cloud of subatomic
particles. The explosion blossomed outward through space, until it vanished like a rainbow chased by the
sun. In less than two seconds, there was nothing left of G'Kar's personal transport but ever-expanding
space dust.
"Oh, my God!" said a tech behind Ivanova.
Captain Sheridan leaned on a panel, gaping with amazement at the glimmering starscape, where there
had been a ship a few seconds earlier. He swallowed hard and yelled, "Scramble a Starfury. And a
rescue team!"
"Starfury One," said Ivanova, "scramble for recon-naissance—code ten—grid alpha 136. Also, search
and rescue, go to grid alpha 136."
"There's nothing left of it," said one stunned tech. "There's not enough left to fill a thimble."
Nobody was going to rescind the order to send a Star-fury and a rescue team, but it certainly looked
pointless. A few seconds later, a tech announced that the Starfury was away and circling the coordinates.
The rescue team was getting suited up for a space-walk.
Captain Sheridan tapped his link and spoke into the back of his hand. "Sheridan to Garibaldi, come in."
"Yes, sir," said the security chief, sounding a little groggy, as if he'd been taking a nap.
"There's been a terrible accident." Sheridan glanced at Ivanova. "At least wethink it's an accident."
"A plasma charge on the main reactor would do that," she said.
Sheridan heaved his shoulders. "Anyway, Chief, G'Kar is dead."
"What!" blurted Garibaldi. "How?"
"Meet me in C-and-C," grumbled Sheridan. "Out."
"Starfury One reporting." Everyone's attention turned to the sleek, quad-winged fighter on the overhead
screen. A moment later, that image was replaced by a young man in a helmet. Warren Keffer's face was
obscured by the reflections on his faceplate, but Ivanova could still see the worry under the plexiglass.
"Report," she said.
Keffer studied his instruments. "I'm picking up lots of trace elements, residual gases, and a pocket of
radiation. I see exactly where the explosion took place, but if you're looking for survivors ... forget it.
We'll be lucky to find any debris at all."
Ivanova nodded grimly, having expected the worst. She glanced at Captain Sheridan, and his usually
un-ruffled face looked shocked and gaunt. That confirmed it.
G'Kar of the Third Circle, the Narn Regime's first Ambassador to Babylon 5, was dead.
CHAPTER 2
Since G'Kar often worked in his quarters, Na'Toth used her access to go in and organize his
transparencies, data crystals, and documents. G'Kar could be messy and disorganized when left to his
own devices, and she was looking for commitments he hadn't told her about, perhaps even a clue as to
why he had left so sud-denly.
Could he be in trouble with the council? G'Kar's allies in the Kha'Ri were supposed to keep him out of
the poli-tical fray, to leave him free to do his job, but they were not always successful. G'Kar was
outspoken, short-tempered and secretive—he could have enemies and battles she didn't even know
about. Na'Toth sunk into the chair at his desk and saw half-a-dozen data crystals strewn across the
desktop. She scooped them up and shoved them into a corner, still wondering about his mysterious
departure, going alone and piloting himself.
The door chimed, and Na'Toth lifted her formidable jaw. Temporarily she was the sole representative of
the Narn Regime on Babylon 5, and she had to conduct her-self in a certain manner. The visitor was
probably a constituent having travel difficulties, or someone making a complaint about some incident of
Narn brutality. She had a special data crystal with autoerase for those com-plaints.
"Enter!"
To her surprise, it wasn't a confused tourist but Captain John Sheridan, followed by Security Chief
Garibaldi and Commander Ivanova. Na'Toth bristled in her chair, thinking that they were after
information. But even if she knew anything, which she didn't, she wasn't about to discuss G'Kar's
personal affairs with a bunch of Earthers.
"Can I help you?"
Captain Sheridan halted and straightened his shoulders. He looked back at his subordinates, but they
both looked dazed and unable to offer him any help. Na'Toth turned slowly in her chair, realizing that
they weren't after information—they had come to deliver it. "The ambassador..." Sheridan said hoarsely.
"Ambassador G'Kar is dead. His ship exploded just before reaching the jump gate."
"What!"shouted Na'Toth, leaping to her feet. She brought her fist down on the desk with a thud, and the
data crystals bounced out of the corner and rolled around.
"We're conducting an investigation," Garibaldi said. "We're wondering if you can tell us anything."
Na'Toth shook her head like a maddened wildebeest and went stomping around the room. "Have you
searched the area? Is there any sign of him?"
"None," said Sheridan. "We've sent reconnaissance, rescue crews, repair crews to check the airlocks,
every-thing we can think of... but his craft was obliterated. He couldn't have survived it."
"The debris pattern is consistent with a bomb," Ivanova added.
Na'Toth finally straightened her back, lifted her chin, and said calmly, "You must tell me everything you
know. If he has been murdered, I will swearShon'Kar against his murderers!"
"Shon'Kar?"asked Sheridan puzzledly.
"The Blood Oath," said Garibaldi. "Look, Na'Toth, there won't be any vigilante justice—Earth has got
plenty of laws against killing people. If you want justice, just tell us who might have wanted him dead. If
they're still on the station, we'll get them."
"If I knew who did it," Na'Toth answered, "I would be there right now, with my fingers around his
throat."
"Then tell us what you do know," said Sheridan. "Did anybody threaten G'Kar recently? What was this
trip back to Homeworld all about?"
The Narn shook her fists in frustration. "I don't know why he was going home. It could have had
something to do with the Kha'Ri, his wife. Who knows? He said he received a dispatch and was leaving
on personal busi-ness. As for having enemies, you know that G'Kar has his share. He has a few right
here on the station, such as Londo Mollari. I would look first at that sniveling Centauri if I were you."
"He's on my list," Garibaldi assured her. "But Londo has had years to try to kill G'Kar, if that's what he
wanted to do. That's really not his style. Maybe it was somebody G'Kar recently met. Did he have any
new associates? Did he seem worried about anything?"
Na'Toth wasn't really listening. The true weight of what had happened was finally descending upon her.
G'Kar was dead, and she would have to devote the rest of her life to hisShon'Kar, the finding and killing
of his murderers. These pathetic Terrans with their outraged sense of justice were not important, not
when G'Kar's death must be avenged.
"Perhaps," she said, "it was bound to come to this. On Babylon 5, G'Kar was too prominent and
surrounded by too many enemies. He risked his life to promote Narn interests, and this is what he got in
re-turn."
Sheridan cleared his throat. "Who else had access to his private transport? Try to help us here."
"His private transport has been docked for months, unused. Dozens of maintenance people had access
to it, and most of them wereyour people. He actually believed he was safe here." Na'Toth snorted a
derisive laugh. "Foolish man. He actually thought he was safe here."
Ivanova moved toward G'Kar's desk and picked up a data crystal that was perilously close to falling off
the edge. She picked up the other data crystals, too, and leafed through the pile of transparencies.
"Is this the way he left his desk?" asked the com-mander.
Na'Toth shrugged. "Unfortunately, yes. He left every-thing as you see it. Perhaps there is something
useful here, but I worry that he was lured by this message into a hasty departure."
Garibaldi took an evidence bag from a pouch on his belt and opened it. "Commander, could you please
drop those crystals in here. And the transparencies."
As Ivanova dropped the evidence into the bag, Garibaldi told Na'Toth, "We're going to have to remove
all his documents and seal off his quarters. I'll give you a receipt for this property, and I'll give it back to
you after I've had a look."
"It doesn't matter," answered Na'Toth. "What are the leavings of a dead man but twigs on a dead tree?"
"I feel terrible about this," said Captain Sheridan. "Allow me to contact the Kha'Ri for you."
"No," snapped Na'Toth. "I will do it. There are several matters I must attend to right away. I will be in,
my quarters."
Garibaldi watched the woman square her shoulders and march out of the room. Na'Toth's reaction had
been about what he'd expected—no tears, no denial, no accu-sations, and not much help either—just
pure anger. Some people might have considered Na'Toth a suspect, but not him. He knew how much
she admired G'Kar.
"Does she mean it with thisShon'Kar thing?" asked Sheridan.
"Oh, she means it all right," said Garibaldi. "If you remember from reading the reports, she had her own
Shon'Kar against Deathwalker. Na'Toth nearly killed that woman with her bare hands the moment she
stepped off her ship. They take the Blood Oath very seriously."
The chief tapped his link and said, "Garibaldi here. I want a security detail and a forensic team at
Ambassador G'Kar's quarters. On the double."
"Let's freeze departures," said Sheridan.
Ivanova started to the door. "I'm on my way to C-and-C."
The two men watched Ivanova leave, and Garibaldi felt like he was in suspended animation. His shock
and grief had put him into a sort of lethargy. He knew they should be taking action, but they could do
nothing to bring G'Kar back to life. That made every action seem pointless. Still, justice had to be served,
whether one called itShon'Kar or revenge. If the perpetrator was still on the station, they had to open
every hatch until they found him.
"I've got condolences and reports to send," said Sheridan. The captain winced. "There will have to be a
station announcement, then a press conference. Don't worry, I'll keep the press away from you. You just
pur-sue your investigation."
"Thanks," said Garibaldi.
The captain strode out, and the security chief dropped the bag of documents and data crystals on to
G'Kar's desk. Looking for more clues, he glanced around G'Kar's quarters, which were almost
Mediterranean in appearance, with heavy furnishings of dark metal and leather. On the walls hung
embroidered tapestries of hunts and battle scenes, with bloodstone standing in for the blood. Garibaldi
turned his attention to the desk drawers and added a few stationery items to his evidence bag.
"Welch here, Chief." Garibaldi looked up to see the security detail he had called for.
"Ambassador G'Kar is dead," the chief reported simply. "His ship exploded, and he was the only
casualty. I can't give you any more information than that." Garibaldi frowned. "I'm worried about his aide,
Attaché Na'Toth. She's not a suspect, but she could be a victim. And I think she knows more than she's
telling us. You and Baker go to Na'Toth's quarters and keep an eye on her. Tell her you're just checking
in, to see if she needs anything. If she goes anywhere, follow her and advise me."
"Yes, sir," said Welch. He and a woman officer hur-ried down the corridor.
Garibaldi pointed to the other two officers. "You seal off these quarters and wait for the forensic team.
Except for them, nobody is to go in or out. All Narns trying to leave the station should be held for
questioning."
"Yes, sir." The officers took positions on either side of the door.
Garibaldi thought about taking his bag of evidence to the laboratory, but he wanted to view the data
crystals first, and he had a viewer only a meter away. He reached into the bag and brought up a handful
of data crystals, which varied in shape and color. Their connectors were exactly the same, although they
had different serial num-bers and notations etched upon them.
That is, all but one had serial numbers and notations. One data crystal was so dark that it looked as if it
had been irradiated, and it had no identifying marks. Slowly, he placed it into G'Kar's viewer.
A female Narn appeared on the screen, and she was breathtaking. She had on a clinging red dress that
hugged her slender body. This couldn't be G'Kar's wife, could it? Garibaldi dismissed the idea out of
hand, because if this was G'Kar's wife, he wouldn't have left her for months at a time.
"Hello, G'Kar," sneered the woman. "Do you recog-nize me? I am Mi'Ra, daughter of Du'Rog. I speak
for my mother, Ka'Het, and my brother, T'Kog. We are all that is left of the family you destroyed. Yes,
G'Kar, we are beaten, and our titles and lands are gone. Our father is dead, his name disgraced, and his
attempt to kill you from the grave was a failure. To our shame, every assas-sin has failed."
Garibaldi grumbled a curse under his breath, because he had never heard of any of these murder
attempts. The delectable Narn got really angry at that point and went on to threaten G'Kar's life. She
vowed aShon'Kar against him, as if they didn't have enough of those. Well, thought Garibaldi, this
certainly qualified as a personal problem.
When she pulled out a sword and sliced open her own forehead, Garibaldi's jaw flopped open. The
viewer blinked off at the same time that his link chimed, Giaribaldi yanked the data crystal from the
viewer and put it in his pocket before he answered his link.
"Garibaldi here."
"Welch," came the reply. "We have a problem, sir. Attaché Na'Toth is not in her quarters."
The security chief headed for the door. "All right,find her. In fact, I'm sending out a security alert. Detail
all Narns for questioning!"
Ambassador Londo Mollari preened in front of his van-ity mirror, shaping thick strands of black hair into
dagger-like spikes. They framed his rotund face like the rays of Proxima Centauri. He touched a
manicured fin-ger to his tongue and ran the saliva over an unruly eyebrow, then he adjusted his sash and
the medals on his burgundy jacket. He had to look good tonight—it was a holiday on Babylon 5!
Summer Solstice, they called it, and he'd had no idea that solar astronomy was so popu-lar on Earth. At
a holiday commemorating the sun, what could be better than having one's hair look like the rays of the
sun?
Londo chuckled and took a sip of chardonnay wine, which he was drinking in honor of Earth's fiesta.
Then he checked his purse to make sure he had his casino tokens, his winnings from the night before. But
he did-n't plan to gamble too much, not when the ladies were in a holiday spirit and there were exotic
refreshments to sample. His experience with Terran beverages had proven them to be sweetly innocent in
taste yet quite intoxicating in effect. A perfect drink with which to woo the ladies, he thought with another
chuckle.
Slapping his ample belly and thinking about his won-derful meal of woolly embryo and brain pudding,
Londo strode to the door. He began to hum a waltz melody, thinking that he might do some dancing
tonight, and he was still humming when he stepped into the corridor. He didn't know there was someone
waiting for him until the hand cupped his mouth and the knife slipped under his double chin.
"Quiet," hissed Na'Toth. "Your life depends upon it."
摘要：

Babylon5BloodOath JohnVornholt BasedontheseriesbyJ.MichaelStraczynskiForNancy,whoneverloseshersenseofhumor    Historian'sNote:Thisstorytakesplacepriortotheeventsin"TheComingofShadows."CONTENTSCHAPTER1.4CHAPTER2.7CHAPTER3.12CHAPTER4.17CHAPTER5.20CHAPTER6.27CHAPTER7.32CHAPTER8.38CHAPTER9.43CHAPTER10.4...

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