Citizen G'Kar (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} citizengkar) wrote,@ 2004-04-04 19:53:00 |
|
Private to legate_damar: Damar. Three men -- all Narns -- left here today for Babylon 5, their sights, I am sure, on ranger_wun. Babylon 5 is at least three jump points away, so you have some time to prepare, but not very much. Work with Mr. Garibaldi; I have transmitted a coded message to him anonymously, alerting him to the threat. Since he won't know the message is from me, and since it lacks specifics, he may not take it seriously -- see that he does, Damar, without revealing my situation or whereabouts. Good luck, my friend; I am counting on you. End private message.
*
File Transfer tomikegaribaldi from Source: Anonymous: *static* Someone trying to kill Sinclair. Two days on the outside. Careful. *static* End file transfer.
*
Computer -- commence recording, and upon completion, transmit file on coded channel to Babylon 5's mainframe for storage.
How do you handle confrontations?
Not very well, I'm afraid. Lately, not very well at all. Last night -- utterly disastrously, and for that I am quite ashamed. I do hopeshadow_anna forgives me for venting my Mollari-related spleen in her general direction, though I'm sure I made it clear enough -- to her, and anyone in earshot -- that Mollari was both the reason and the target for my temporary mania.
"I carry my sword in my hand," Ta'Lon once told me. "You carry yours in your heart, and in your mind. As I see it," he pointed out, "that gives you a two to one advantage in arms."
What he failed to realize, or perhaps he did, and I was the one who was foolish at the time, was that the sword in my heart and the sword in my mind do not necessarily agree, and at times find themselves locked, hilt to hilt, in a straight-up battle to the death.
When faced with confrontation, I call upon the sword of my mind, seeking wisdom, fairness, and understanding. Too often, though, I find that the better reflexes of my heart's sword have beat me to the punch -- to woefully mix my metaphors here, a slight for which Mollari will no doubt chastise me -- for it has longer been in practice, is more impulsive, and is stronger yet.
So I hide behind rhetoric, for words have power and channel control. My words, my mind's sword, have saved me on countless occasions, through torture and imprisonment, through war. My words have organized the League of Non-Aligned Worlds, have called Narns to arms and called Narns to drop their swords. My words have placated villians and convinced allies, breached chasms and mended conflicts. I am an orator, a writer, and too far gone to be humble; the sword in my mind is a formidable power.
But not as formidable -- though perhaps it took last night's events to make me admit this -- as the sword in my heart, and for that I am frustrated and ashamed. That I speak of love is one matter; that I allow myself to be driven by it, that I let my emotions override my better judgement is quite another, but yet, that is just what happened.
If I survive this mission, I pledge to learn control over the sword in my heart, to be the master of my emotions and not allow them to master me. If my love for Mollari is to be my burden to bear, then I will put it to work to make me a better Narn, not a worse one. I will train my twin swords to work in synch, not in opposition.
No doubt Mollari thinks I shall see the events of last night, both at the party and later, in his quarters, as a reason to throw myself upon my twin swords and bid this life its last hurrah, to die here upon this rock. Quite the contrary. Now, I see that I must live, and my mind, my heart, and my body have Mollari to thank for that. For reminding me that I have much to learn, and far yet upon this road to walk.
legate_damar: Damar. Three men -- all Narns -- left here today for Babylon 5, their sights, I am sure, on ranger_wun. Babylon 5 is at least three jump points away, so you have some time to prepare, but not very much. Work with Mr. Garibaldi; I have transmitted a coded message to him anonymously, alerting him to the threat. Since he won't know the message is from me, and since it lacks specifics, he may not take it seriously -- see that he does, Damar, without revealing my situation or whereabouts. Good luck, my friend; I am counting on you. End private message.*
File Transfer to
mikegaribaldi from Source: Anonymous: *static* Someone trying to kill Sinclair. Two days on the outside. Careful. *static* End file transfer.*
Computer -- commence recording, and upon completion, transmit file on coded channel to Babylon 5's mainframe for storage.
How do you handle confrontations?
Not very well, I'm afraid. Lately, not very well at all. Last night -- utterly disastrously, and for that I am quite ashamed. I do hope
shadow_anna forgives me for venting my Mollari-related spleen in her general direction, though I'm sure I made it clear enough -- to her, and anyone in earshot -- that Mollari was both the reason and the target for my temporary mania."I carry my sword in my hand," Ta'Lon once told me. "You carry yours in your heart, and in your mind. As I see it," he pointed out, "that gives you a two to one advantage in arms."
What he failed to realize, or perhaps he did, and I was the one who was foolish at the time, was that the sword in my heart and the sword in my mind do not necessarily agree, and at times find themselves locked, hilt to hilt, in a straight-up battle to the death.
When faced with confrontation, I call upon the sword of my mind, seeking wisdom, fairness, and understanding. Too often, though, I find that the better reflexes of my heart's sword have beat me to the punch -- to woefully mix my metaphors here, a slight for which Mollari will no doubt chastise me -- for it has longer been in practice, is more impulsive, and is stronger yet.
So I hide behind rhetoric, for words have power and channel control. My words, my mind's sword, have saved me on countless occasions, through torture and imprisonment, through war. My words have organized the League of Non-Aligned Worlds, have called Narns to arms and called Narns to drop their swords. My words have placated villians and convinced allies, breached chasms and mended conflicts. I am an orator, a writer, and too far gone to be humble; the sword in my mind is a formidable power.
But not as formidable -- though perhaps it took last night's events to make me admit this -- as the sword in my heart, and for that I am frustrated and ashamed. That I speak of love is one matter; that I allow myself to be driven by it, that I let my emotions override my better judgement is quite another, but yet, that is just what happened.
If I survive this mission, I pledge to learn control over the sword in my heart, to be the master of my emotions and not allow them to master me. If my love for Mollari is to be my burden to bear, then I will put it to work to make me a better Narn, not a worse one. I will train my twin swords to work in synch, not in opposition.
No doubt Mollari thinks I shall see the events of last night, both at the party and later, in his quarters, as a reason to throw myself upon my twin swords and bid this life its last hurrah, to die here upon this rock. Quite the contrary. Now, I see that I must live, and my mind, my heart, and my body have Mollari to thank for that. For reminding me that I have much to learn, and far yet upon this road to walk.
