Disclaimer: Nothing's changed since last chapter. All this stuff belongs to people who are not me. Still.

Author's Note: Well I've finished my exams and did pretty well, thanks for asking! Oh-no-wait you didn't ask did you? :D Anyhow, checked my emails this morning and found a lovely review from Rueme so this chaps for you ^_^ also continued thanks to RumorUnderOath. Keept trucking guys! /shrug/

The Fifth Element

Chapter 9

First class! What's not to like?

Particularly with the new FTL (Faster Than Light) Warp-Hop-Fold&Jump drive, which uses the electricity of stretched superstrings to pull both Space and Time into conveniently traversed, commercially viable trade and travel routes.

Certainly, Ken and Daisuke were enjoying their trip. In Daisuke's first-class cabinets they slept soundly. Ken's little hand was cuddled comfortably in Daisuke's big one, just as the two of them were cuddled in the warm, safe passenger area of the quarter-mile-long intergalactic shuttle.

Across the galaxy, however, a malevolent force was waiting.

The Dark Planet.

The Ultimate Evil.

Lights flashed across its surface, like random electric storms. Nearby (relatively) in the admiral's starship, a technician turned away from her view screen. Her face showed a mixture of relief, anticipation…and terror.

"Sir, we're finally getting something!"

Across the galaxy in the other direction, the President was slumped at his desk. A slim man, President Kido had, like Lincoln (an ancient leader of the constituent political entities of the United Federation), poor posture when it came to events that could have extreme impacts on the people whom he led.

"It's sending radio signals!" said one of the President's scientists, who were standing with the other scientists behind the line of generals.

Jou groaned, but relaxed when his personal Aid, Sora rested a hand on his shoulder. "What the hell does it want with radio waves?"

"Maybe," whispered Sora into his ear, "it wants to make a call."

Jou and all the other generals who had heard the young woman's reply turned and looked at her in astonishment.

Oikawa sat in his office at his teak desk.

The man admired the desk because it was immense and handsomely constructed, strong and reliant just like the man that sat behind it. The last teak tree on the planet had been cut down and sawed up to make his desk. That made it even more special to the greasy haired man.

Picasso sat (or slumped, or squatted, or whatever it is that whatever it was does) on the desk, purring contentedly.

The shrill shriek of the phone cut through the room like a knife through soft butter.

Picasso growled.

Oikawa activated the intercom. "I told you, I don't want to be disturbed!" he barked angrily to his white haired receptionist.

"Mister Shadow on the line," hissed the woman, enunciating slowly.

Oikawa got to his feet. Picasso tumbled to the floor and with trembling hands the pale man picked up the receiver.

"Oikawa here."

The voice that came through was dim, weak, and feeble, as if it came from the remotest reaches of Time and Space. But it was no less impressive for all that. "Am I disturbing you?"

"No!" Oikawa hurried in reply. "No! Not at all. Where are you?"

"Not far now." The voice hissed slowly.

"E-excellent!" stammered Oikawa.

"How is our deal coming along?"

"F-fine," the man continued nervously, he was after all speaking with something which was pure evil, "Just fine. I'll have the four stones you asked for anytime now. But it wasn't easy."

Silence on the line.

A black, slimy treacle like liquid began to ooze from the top of Oikawa's head.

"Money is of no importance," said the voice on Oikawa's line. "I want the stones."

"The stones will be here," Oikawa said in terror. The black liquid was oozing from his skull, over his brow, and down his narrow sunken cheeks. "I'll see to it personally."

"I can't wait to be among you."

The line clicked.

Dead.

Instead of hanging up, Oikawa stood motionless in the centre of his palatial office. The black liquid was slowly fading from his face.

Only the trembling of his hands showed his total terror.

Across the galaxy, the Dark Planet was suddenly lifeless.

Dead.

"We lost it," said the tech on the bridge of the Admiral's starship.

"We lost the signal," said the general who stood by his side, speaking direct FTL link to the United Federation headquarters in Manhattan, New York, Earth.

Jou was a calm man, a polite man, a considerate man, however none of this seemed to register as, in reply to this new information the young man seemed to hiss the word which seemed to sum up his opinion of the situation,.

"Damn it!"

"We got something!" said General Miyako, rushing excitedly into the President's office; she winked slyly at the auburn-haired Aid as he eyes landed on her. Miyako was almost fully recovered from her sojourn in Daisuke's freezer; she'd have to personally repay the favour when she next laid eyes on the brat.

"What do you have?"

"A location," said Miyako. "The signal came here. The contact was on Earth. Somewhere in the Northern hemisphere."

Jou raised two delicate cobalt eyebrows. The gesture was as impressive as the opening of a hangar door. "This-thing-knows someone on Earth? General, warn your man. He could have trouble. Tell him to keep his eyes open."

Miyako grinned, saluted, and then rushed out. It seemed that yet again she would be the one to safe Daisuke's ass.

Peace prevailed in First Class Cabinette #327 of the intergalactic shuttle starship, Pride of Brooklyn.

Daisuke was snoring gently.

Ken lay awake in his arms, watching him sleep. A flicker of what might have been love shone in his deep violet eyes.

A kilometre ahead, in the cockpit, the captain clicked the last in a row of glowing switches. "Leaving light speed."

The starship shuddered only slightly. More like a snuggle, really-back into the familiar, comforting arms of Newtonian space.

Light filled the Cabinette.

Daisuke stirred but didn't wake.

Ken was awake but not stirring.

What was more beautiful- the face he turned on Daisuke? Or the turquoise, cloud-flecked planet seen through the window, toward which the shuttle was swiftly descending?

"Ladies and gentleman," came the Head Stewardess's voice. "We have begun out final descent towards Fhloston Paradise. The local time is 3:28P.M. The outside temperature is a constant 82 degrees Fahrenheit. We hoped you enjoyed your flight today, and we hope to see you again soon."

In the corridor, stewardesses were pressing the wakeup buttons on the cabinettes, one by one. In one cabinette, Yamato Ishida and the stewardess awoke with a start and began straightening their clothes.

The stewardess was embarrassed, but only slightly. The man who had ravished her was, after all, one of the most supercelebrities in the galaxy.

"I wanted to tell you..." she began.

Yamato silenced her with a finger to her lips. Dropping his sunglasses over his eyes, he left the cabinette-and left the stewardess to her sighs.

Clouds whipped by the wings like half-acknowledged thoughts as the shuttle drifted down toward a turquoise sea. Hovering a down yards above the water was the Fhloston Paradise, a grate floating hotel, modelled after the cruise ships of the past.

The shuttle suddenly appeared tiny as it drew near the great resort liner-like a sardine approaching a whale.

The stewardess hit the button on top of Daisuke's cabinette, and he awoke.

He looked around, his chocolate eyes adjusting to the brightly light-filled cabinette.

Where was Ken?

He panicked.

The captain slid the shuttle into the receiving dock on the Phloston Paradise. Airlocks equalized, and the two-story-high door opened. The most eager of the shuttle's passengers were already gathered at the door, waiting. When the door opened, the flooded off into the board decks of the most luxurious liner in the known universe, decorated and appointed to resemble the fabulous Normandie of twentieth-century Earth.

Near the front of the crowd was Ken.

"Excuse me."

At the back of the crowd was Daisuke.

"Pardon me!" Daisuke jostled, hustled, fumbled, wedged and squeezed his way through the crowd of eager vacationers, trying to get to the front of the line.

"Hey, dude! You can't just…"

"I'm trying to find my husband," Daisuke muttered. He pushed the complainer against the wall. "Sorry!"

At the end of the passageway, just inside the reception deck of the Fhloston Paradise, a phalanx of cops in full riot gear waited.

For what?

Ken saw them and stopped; he squeezed himself against the wall and let the crowd go by. Meanwhile Daisuke had almost caught up with him. A gorgeous topless hostess in a grass skirt dropped a let around his neck.

"Welcome to Paradise," she said-and planted a kiss on his lips.

Daisuke's eyes rolled wildly as he tired to break away. Where was Ken?

The he saw the inky-haired boy.

A fat man in a sarong-also topless- was dropping a lei around Ken's neck. He smiled and planted a wet kiss on his lips-

"A mistake," Daisuke whispered, as he saw the fat man straighten up suddenly.

He was smiling, but his nose was spurting blood as he sank slowly to the floor.

"Never without my permission," muttered Daisuke. He pushed through the crowd toward Ken, whipping the lipstick from his face.

But he was gone.

After punching the fat man, Ken ducked around a corner and saw a door marked 'Personnel Only'. He stopped and punched random numbers into the code lock.

Nothing happened.

Looking over his shoulder, he twisted the knob.

There was a sharp crack as he opened the door.

To see three cops sat on three toilets, reading mail-order catalogues.

They looked up at him.

Ken smiled and closed the door behind him.

Where was he?

Always pushing toward the front, Daisuke followed the crowd through the high arched door, into the reception desk of the Fhloston Paradise.

Suddenly behind him he heard a shriek, followed by a chorus of oohs and aaahs! It was Yamato Ishida- and he was heading straight for Daisuke. The crowd parted around him like the sea around the prow of a speedboat.

A talking speedboat.

"Daisuke!" Yamato said, grabbing Daisuke's arm. "Please don't leave me here alone! My head is killing me and my adoring fans are going to tear me apart! Get me outta here!"

Daisuke pulled back- then took pity on the DJ. "I'll take you to the bar," he said." After that, you're on your own. Okay?"

"Oh, yeah!" said Yamato, clutching Daisuke's arm as if it were a life preserver. "Do that!! You know sometimes this whole over-the-top-flamboyance act gets a bit too much. I could do with friends like you. So tell me about yourself: your roots, your personal life, got any childhood dreams?"

"I don't think now is a good time," said Daisuke distractedly. He was still scanning the crowds for Ken.

"You got any brothers or sisters?" asked Yamato. "They as cute as you?"

"I gotta sister…" said Daisuke, standing on his tiptoes, still trying to see into every corner of the crowded deck, "but you wouldn't want to meet her…she's crazy and even crazier about you."

No luck.

No Ken.

He dragged Yamato toward the bar, and cleared a space for the two of them.

Yamato turned to him, a glint of sadness in his azure eyes. "I had a brother. Never saw him much, after my mom left. Fifty billion people hear me every day, and he doesn't hear me…"

"I understand," said Daisuke, placing his hand on Yamato's shoulder. "Well you're at the bar. Ciao!"

Yamato turned to thank the spiky haired man, who was already gone. "How can he leave me like this?!" he groaned.

A voice at his elbow interrupted the DJ's self-pitying reverie. "Mr. Ishida! I'm the manager of the hotel. Welcome to Fhloston Paradise! The Princess Catherine of Minas Japhet would like to share a drink with you."

Yamato looked at the manager, uncomprehendingly. Then he looked down the bar to where the manager's finger was pointing. He raised his sunglasses and saw a young blonde woman in an impossibly brief dress with an improbably welcoming smile.

Yamato smiled back at her. "When in Rome…" he muttered.

In the cockpit, the captain and the copilot were going over their post-flight checklist. The captain looked up and saw the blinking green light.

"Shit!" he said. "Parasites again!"

The copilot looked at the light, pressed a button for a location readout, and shook his head uncomprehendingly.

It wasn't the wheel well.

He got out his barca and walked to the rear of the cockpit. He reached up and unscrewed an overhead electronics access panel.

The door swung open and Koushirou Izumi fell out, dangling from a tangle of wires.

"Have we arrived yet?" the Priest asked.

The pilot raised a skeptical brow. "Yeah."

Koushirou smiled brilliantly. "Oh good."

End of chapter Nine

Police: Are you classified as human?
Korben Dallas: Negative, I am a meat popsicle.

Peace out!