by Richard Ford
When he turned, Turval held the door open to yet another area of the academy. Vance followed him down a long corridor, passing several open rooms containing meditating Minbari, until they eventually came to an open dormitory. While the room had no door, it looked fairly comfortable.
Silently, Turval motioned to an empty bed, gave his customary curt nod, hands placed together in the usual manner, and quickly left. Vance saw that all the dorm’s other occupants were asleep, fully clothed. Even their boots were still on. He also noticed that every bed was slanted at a forty-five- degree angle. This particular legend of Minbari culture had been bandied around for some time amongst the guys at EarthForce, but Vance had always put it down to idle speculation and exaggeration. Now it appeared true.
Carefully, Vance climbed onto one of the beds and lay flat on his back. At first he was comfortable enough, considering he was fully clothed and didn’t even have so much as a sheet to keep the draft out. Then, as he began to lapse into an exhausted slumber, his body relaxed and his legs gave way. The sudden jolt panicked him, and he sat bolt upright.
Straight ahead of him, through the dimness of the room, he saw one of his fellow recruits, a Minbari, staring at him. Vance nodded curtly, a smile of embarrassment on his face. Slowly the Minbari stood and approached. Vance kept the smile on his face, imagining that the Minbari would impart some knack to staying on the infuriatingly angled bed and getting a decent night’s sleep.
The Minbari leaned in, his face a stone mask. ‘You will fail,’ he said in a low monotone. Vance frowned, and for several seconds they stared at one another until the Minbari retreated back to his bed as slowly and purposefully as he had left it. The pair stared at one another for minutes more, Vance unsure whether this was another test or just a taste of things to come. At some point during the night he managed to fall asleep, with the Minbari still watching him through the gloom.
Tuzanor’s minarets loomed around him, bending in threateningly. Something was after him but, as was usual in his dreams, he couldn’t quite seem to run fast enough. His legs felt like they moved in a vat of sloppy field rations, and every time he tried to glance over his shoulder at the nightmare creature chasing him, his head would not turn.
A sudden ringing sound of sweet timbre instantly dispersed his fears. The towers seemed less imposing and his pursuer was forgotten. No longer did he try to run; he simply stood and listened to the melodic chime. Vance opened his eyes and saw the lights of the Ranger dormitory brighten. His fellow recruits were already sitting or standing. Through the centre of the room walked a venerable-looking Minbari in plain white robes. He carried a strange cylindrical object, which he occasionally struck with a wooden block. Depending on where he struck the instrument, a different note emerged.
The rest of the Ranger recruits fell into line behind the robed figure. Obviously they knew something that Vance didn’t, so he followed them. A brief twinge of relief passed through Vance when he noticed some of the recruits looking as bewildered as he felt, equally confused by this weird waking ceremony. Vance looked around and confirmed that the Minbari who threatened him the night before was not present.
The line of recruits followed the sound of the chime down a long corridor. Vance noticed several more dorms set off from the corridor, all empty. He also realised his fellow Rangers were an equal mix of humans and Minbari, and some of them looked distinctly non-military. Four or five of the faces yawned widely as though unused to being deprived of sleep and rising early. Others trudged along, slump-shouldered and shambling. Never in a million years would such a slovenly gait be tolerated in EarthForce.
They finally entered an open area. A huge statue of a noble-looking Minbari, dressed in Ranger attire, dominated the centre. The white-robed figure stopped in front of the statue, still ringing his bell, which was now beginning to annoy Vance ever so slightly. The Minbari recruits instinctively spread out into two rows behind the figure and dropped to one knee, right hand placed over the left side of their chest. Most of the human recruits, Vance included, gingerly followed suit, assuming this was expected of them. When they all assumed the proper position, the robed figure began to chant. Vance couldn’t understand all the words, since they were in what seemed an archaic form of Adrenato, the Religious Caste language, but the gist was to give thanks to Valen and take strength for the coming day’s trials. Vance could only assume the statue depicted the mysterious Valen he had heard about in Minbari history.
The robed figure’s chanting was brisk and, before Vance knew it, he stood and led the procession into another room. Vance recognised immediately the sight and smell of a mess hall. It didn’t compare to an EarthForce canteen; no banter or laughing greetings rang out across the space. The recruits solemnly filed in and took their seats. Vance sat in the closest available seat at a table with three other humans and two Minbari. One of the humans looked up and smiled at Vance, and he duly reciprocated. The two Minbari stared at their knees like scolded children, and the remaining two humans looked too groggy for conversation.
Before long a second group filed in, led by another white-robed figure, and these recruits took their seats in an equally ceremonious manner. The mess hall was not even half full. Vance did a quick head count. Including him, roughly twenty Minbari and thirty-five humans occupied the hall. He also noticed the Minbari who threatened him the night before sat brooding at the far end of the hall. Just as in the dorm, the Minbari stared as though Vance wronged him in some way.
Suddenly, more robed figures, these dressed in light brown, entered. They gracefully glided around the tables at great speeds in a well-practiced dance. Some distributed plates and spoons, while others dished out a thin gruel. They vanished through several doorways just as quickly as they appeared.
‘Sinclair says the food should improve when he’s had time to sort things out.’ The recruit who smiled at Vance earlier spoke quietly. He still bore a grin on his face, obviously keen to strike up a decent conversation in these staid and rigid surroundings. One of the Minbari at their table looked up, throwing a disapproving glance in the man’s direction.
Before Vance could reply, all the Minbari in the canteen, and a few of the humans, spoke in unison. ‘Ellah’tre,’ they said. Vance managed to translate it as a word of thanks as the entire group dug into their slop.
‘William Cole,’ said the young human, offering his hand. He looked a little sheepish, obviously embarrassed by his faux pas at almost interrupting the giving of thanks.
Vance reached out and brusquely shook William’s hand. ‘James Vance,’ he said in reply, finding it hard to resist the temptation of using his full rank and title. Corporal James Vance just wouldn’t have sounded right in a place like this.
‘We were told to expect another initiate,’ said William. ‘Ex-military, aren’t you?’
The words struck Vance head on. He hadn’t yet considered the fact he was no longer a member of EarthForce. It didn’t sit well with his breakfast gruel. ‘You make it sound like this isn’t a military installation. We’re all in the army now, right? Just on Minbar. Surely you have some military training. Hasn’t everyone here?’
‘Well, no,’ answered William. ‘Obviously I know how to look after myself,’ he feebly feigned a one-two combination with his fists, ‘but mainly I was a traveller before I came here. I suppose I’ve just been looking for a sense of purpose. Most of the humans here are the same.’
‘The new Anla’shok Na has invited all Castes to the Rangers,’ said a female voice. Vance saw it was one of the Minbari sitting at their table. Even though she joined in their conversation, she kept her eyes fixed on her food. ‘Both Worker and Religious Caste have been invited to join. Sinclair believes the Anla’shok should no longer be exclusive to the Warrior Caste, or the Minbari for that matter.’
Vance felt like burying his head in his hands. What had he joined in with? ‘So nobody here has had any military training?’ he asked.
‘All Minbari are trained in the martial arts, but o
nly for personal safety,’ said the Minbari. ‘Unfortunately, when Sinclair was appointed as Anla’shok Na, most of the Warrior Caste refused to join.’
‘Great,’ breathed Vance. ‘OK, so you’re all Religious or Worker Caste... or “travellers”. Where are the guys from the Warrior Caste?’ Vance looked around. Maybe he would be lucky, and perhaps the Warrior Caste would accept him as a kindred spirit.
‘Only Merreck is of the Warrior Caste.’
Alright, where is he?’ said Vance looking around eagerly. Vance followed the female Minbari’s gesture to the opposite side of the dining hall. There, staring directly at him with a familiar malice, was the Minbari who threatened him the previous night.
Vance turned back to his breakfast. Maybe training with civilians and religious types wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Meditation was the first lesson. Vance only experienced it as part of martial arts training, and even then he never took it that seriously. After a heavy bout of fighting, trainees were told to sit and reflect on the lesson, but Vance used it as a ready excuse to get his breath back. Now he was expected to meditate for meditation’s sake. This seemed crazy, and his focus was constantly interrupted by the itch for some real training.
Sech Turval taught the lesson, instructing them on the proper posture, which turned out to be relatively lax. Hands could be placed on knees, held across the chest or, as adopted by most of the Minbari, with the typical fingers-pressed-together pose. Despite Vance’s initial disdain, he found himself quite relaxed by the end of the first hour. No sudden epiphany or revelation struck him, and he certainly didn’t feel he could move mountains with a thought, but after the lesson ended he was in a good frame of mind to accomplish the rest of the day’s tasks.
Next was Minbari language instruction. A rather portly and studious-looking Minbari name Sech Nelier taught this lesson. Vance initially thought he would struggle--after all, he only knew Fik, the Warrior Caste dialect, and almost forty per cent of the other students were Minbari. As it turned out, many of the Minbari from the Religious and Worker Caste were almost as ignorant about the nuances of the Warrior Caste dialect as Vance.
Throughout the lesson, Vance couldn’t help glancing over at Merreck. The stern Minbari, who obviously knew all there was to know about his own Caste’s dialect, sat stony-faced and completely silent. Vance quickly averted his eyes when he glanced over to catch Merreck staring in his direction. Anywhere else, he would have stood to confront Merreck, to demand what his problem was, but Vance didn’t feel that tactic wise in the current situation. The Minbari would have to wait.
Piloting proved to be the lesson where Vance’s interest was truly piqued. The lesson took place on the hangar platform where Vance arrived the previous day. The strange gun ports still swivelled in a seemingly random dance, occasionally targeting the students as they stood listening to their tutor.
Sech Mishal was almost laid back for a Minbari. He didn’t adopt the usual aloof manner, even smiling on occasion. It wasn’t the tutor that interested Vance, though; it was the flyer, the same model that brought him to Tuzanor. At the time Vance thought his transport was a standard flyer model. However, Mishal explained the main differences. The Fan’ir Ranger flyer was a combat version of the standard model: stealthier, more heavily reinforced, and sporting an advanced weapons array. Vance drank in the explanation of the control and weapons systems. He listened avidly to Mishal’s safety code and, after several minutes, was practically itching to start the test flight. Then before any of them had a chance to sit in the pilot’s seat, the lesson ended. Vance could barely hide his disappointment.
At lunch he sat with the same five trainees as at breakfast. William seemed almost bewildered by the brevity and pace of their lessons. The other two humans just looked tired. All this after just five hours sleep? How do they expect us to cope?’ William seemed a wholly different person to the ebullient acolyte at breakfast.
The female Minbari leaned forward. ‘Today is simply to introduce us to the main disciplines. I am sure the pace will slow.
‘I didn’t catch your name,’ said Vance. ‘Jerklenn,’ she replied.
‘Well, Jerklenn. This is William, and I’m Vance. Pleased to meet you.’ He held out his hand. Jerklenn looked at it as though Vance had just visited the latrine and not washed up afterward. Slowly, she extended her own hand and grasped his. The gesture was awkward, with Jerklenn obviously unaccustomed to handshaking, and she attempted an awkward smile that looked as hesitant and out of place as the handshake.
‘Tell me,’ he said, motioning toward the rigid figure of Merreck, who was even now frowning in Vance’s direction. ‘What is that guy’s problem? I know he’s Warrior Caste and probably has to put on an air of superiority, but he seems to be singling me out for special attention.’
Jerklenn didn’t have to look to know whom Vance was speaking of. ‘I believe his father was killed in the war with the humans. Since you are the person here who most closely represents the military of Earth, Merreck has taken it on himself to prove he can best you. That way he believes he can regain the honour lost through the death of his father.’
‘Great,’ breathed Vance. ‘I don’t suppose explaining to him that I was only a teenager when the war ended will help any.’
‘It matters not to Merreck. Only that you are defeated.’
‘Oh well,’ William cut in. ‘Could be worse.’
‘How?’ asked Vance.
‘Well, you’ve me to watch your back,’ William smiled.
‘Great,’ said Vance. ‘A wandering minstrel as my backup. What are you going to do, philosophise him away from me? Thanks for the offer, but this one I think I can handle.’
‘I would advise caution,’ said Jerklenn. ‘Merreck is the nephew of Neroon himself. After Merreck’s father died, Neroon took it upon himself to teach the boy as much as he could of the Warrior Caste’s traditions and martial skills. Despite his youth, Merreck is a deadly combatant. No matter how skilled a warrior you are, Merreck could certainly best you in any form of martial combat.’
‘I’d like to see him in action,’ said William.
Vance looked at him in disbelief. William realised his jovial remark did not help matters. ‘Just stick around,’ said Vance, glancing over to Merreck’s table. ‘You might get a chance sooner than you think.’
After eating, the trainees moved straight to a large open hall that contained various simulated corridors, ladders, ropes and other obstacles. After everyone filed in, the lights dimmed.
‘Here you will learn the Code of Tuvor.’ The deep and echoing voice emanated from more than one of the shadowy recesses secreted across the hall. ‘There are several lessons I will teach you, but the most important is this: do not be seen.’
With that the lights went back up. Several gasps behind Vance cause him to turn. There, standing in the midst of the packed crowd of trainees was a tall, old Minbari. Although he looked like he could barely walk, let alone creep around in the shadows, he somehow managed to stand amidst the trainees without being seen.
‘I am Kattak,’ he said, his booming voice outpacing his venerable years. ‘Please sit.’
They learned no stealth techniques during that particular lesson, but Kattak imparted some of his wisdom. He spoke of the Code of Tuvor and how it would be their most powerful weapon over the coming months and years. The ability to not be seen was more valuable than any combat training or piloting skill.
Vance was fascinated and uplifted. Not only did Kattak talk to them gently and like equals, he actually listened to questions, some of them pretty stupid to a soldier as experienced as Vance, and answered each in an even, measured manner. Vance left the lesson and, for the first time since his arrival on Minbar, felt good about what he was doing.
That was all due to change in the next lesson. The recruits moved to a room that Vance immediately recognised as a gymnasium of some sort. An area at the front of the room reminded him of the place where he and Randell sparred on his la
st day before embarking on this trek at his father’s behest. A stout Minbari awaited the recruits.
‘I am Durhan.’ The Minbari’s stout tone matched his physique. ‘You have just received your first instruction in the Code of Tuvor from Sech Kattak. During his tuition, I have no doubt he informed you his discipline was the most important an initiate of the Anla’shok can learn.’ Durhan leaned in close to the recruits, who were standing to attention in two rigid ranks. ‘As wise as Sech Kattak is, on this point he is sadly mistaken.’
Durhan paced in front of the initiates, looking to the combat arena like it was a holy temple. ‘The importance of what you will learn in this place is without measure. The very nature of the Anla’shok means we face great dangers and powerful enemies, and without the knowledge I will give you in this arena, you will die on your first mission.’ He paused to let that thought linger in the room.
‘For most of you, these lessons will be difficult. For some, impossible.’ He made a point of staring along a line of human trainees. ‘And for those of you who are worthy enough….’ Durhan lifted his hand, allowing a shaft of metal to spring from his palm. In the blink of an eye he was holding a five-foot-long fighting pike. Vance recognised the fabled denn’bok immediately. His stomach churned at the thought of using the legendary weapon of the Minbari elite.
‘But this is for another day.’ As quickly as it had appeared, the denn’bok vanished into Durhan’s palm. ‘Pair up. We will see what you are capable of
Obediently, the trainees began to gather in twos. Vance looked to his left and right, but his neighbours had both already picked their partners. He quickly looked around for William, or even Jerklenn, but they too had partners of their own. Vance turned, about to announce to Durhan that he had no one to pair with, when the leering figure of Merreck stepped up to him.
