Cleo watched unhappily as Cassandra held forth on the floor of the chamber. The commander flitted across the grass of the clearing, almost like a time-lapse recording of a bramble scrambling for the light on a forest floor; clinging, grasping, twitching its way over under or through anything in its path, and to hell with anything that got scratched in its wake.

Yes… that was it exactly… a common, thorn covered bramble. With sour fruit. Cleo tapped her fingers on the rough bark of the low branch she sat on, ignoring the puzzled frowns on the otherwise bland faces of the sisters next to her.

'Be still, Cleome…' Tessius' voice whispered in her left ear. 'You'll draw far too much attention…'

'She's shrill, and spiky, and far too fond of the sound of that screeching monotone she calls a voice,' Cleo hissed back. But she switched from tapping to playing with the folds of her chiton.

'There are still far too many incidents on the ships - insubordination and rebellion are running rampant,' Cassandra continued. 'The Queen will not stand for it any longer. Our goal is so close now that no dissension will be tolerated.'

'Just how do you plan on enforcing that?' Tessius asked, ignoring Cleo's frantic attempts to tug her chiton to make her sit down. 'Do you really have the numbers to force your will upon every ship in the fleet? We're spread so thinly even in this fleet - what of the others, flung even further afield? What news…'

'You are tolerated at these meetings because of your past friendship with the Queen, Tessius,' Cassandra snapped spitefully. 'Do not presume to question her will!'

'I have a place at these meetings because I represent a sizeable proportion of our population,' Tessius replied, her voice smooth and soft and melodic. 'The civilian population you and yours are charged with protecting, not oppressing.'

'The civilian population should be thankful they still have a place in this,' Cassandra sneered. 'What possible use do they have anymore, unless it is to be decorative? They cannot operate the ships, or fight… like the lilies of the field, they toil not, neither do they spin…'

Cleo couldn't resist. 'Did I just hear you quote a human poet?' she asked, innocently. 'And out of context…' Beside her, Tessius coughed back a laugh. Cassandra looked as though she was about to burst. 'Oh, don't get your roots in a tangle, commander.' Cleo waved a hand airily, knowing full well it would inflame the already bad-tempered woman.

'We exist to protect our sisters In the Green. If we forget that, we lose ourselves. And then what are we? Human women living in symbiosis with the Mazone? Drifting without purpose as well as without place in the universe.' Tessius added. 'You exist to protect that which you now say you see no purpose for - and day by day you sound like those you purport to despise so much - I have to ask, Cassandra - which part of yourself do you hate more - the Flesh or the Green?'

'What I hate is being bound by archaic traditions which serve no purpose,' Cassandra snapped back. 'The vapid apathy possessing the Melia and their kind is an affront to all of us - why do we waste our time and our ships protecting those who do nothing to deserve it?'

'It is not, and never has been, your place to question this,' Tessius snapped. She shrugged off Cleo's little tug on her sleeve. 'Once we reach our destinations, the Mazone will spread across these new worlds and we will know a time of -'

'You pitiful idealist!' Cassandra strode forward until she stood in front of Tessius, sneering up at the taller woman. 'You'd have us return to some mythical golden age that never existed except inside your head? Peaceful co-existence? There can be no such thing whilst humans survive!'

'We are partly human,' Cleo interjected gently. Cassandra's sneer grew bigger.

'I don't need reminding of that fact - but our blood runs green, not red. We are so much more than they are…'

'Really?' Tessius shrugged, a gesture she knew full well would infuriate the commander. 'You're starting to sound just like them. Talking about control, and violence, and intolerance for any opinion but your own. Where will it stop, Cassandra? If you silence all the voices which cry out against you, what remains for you to protect? What will you be once you have become the very thing you say you hate the most?'

'You can find yourself amongst the first of those to be disciplined for insubordination, Tessius,' Cassandra snarled. Cleo took a step forwards to mediate between the two.

A flash of rainbow light caught the attention of all three, and they dropped to one knee with equal alacrity, facing the hologrammatic image which flickered into being in front of them. The tall, black-haired figure of Queen Rafflesia stared down at their bowed heads.

'Rise, daughters. And cease this bickering amongst yourselves. Tessius - '

'Majesty…'

'Keep the Ampeloi and their kin quiet. I know this journey has been hard on them, but it is only a matter of weeks before we reach our destination. Less than half an old Earth year before we can restore our race to glory. Cassandra enforces my will, old friend. I would not have you at each other's throats.' Her image turned to Cassandra. 'You, commander - I have a mission for. Make your way to the four-dimensional projection chamber. We have much to discuss.' The rainbow haloed hologramme winked out, leaving the three mazone looking puzzled. The frown on Cassandra's brow now approached the proportions of a crevice, Cleo thought with an uncharitable irritation she considered chiding herself for mentally. Briefly.

The commander strode out of the chamber with a disdainful sniff and no attempt at politeness. Left alone, Tessius gave her friend a concerned look. 'A mission? And requiring the projection chamber? What can she have in mind that requires such a distance? Unless…'

'Unless it involves liaising ahead of the fleet?' Cleo replied. She tapped one long finger against her bare arm. 'Or with one of the other convoys?'

'There are agents imbedded amongst the human colonies,' Tessius mused. 'Has there been any contact?'

'Only from the one in the Alliance Government, but I've not been privy to the communiques. That would be Cassandra…' Cleo's eyes narrowed as she stared down the avenue Cassandra had taken. 'I'm not sure I like the idea of letting her off the leash.'

'Look on the bright side,' Tessius replied dryly. 'At least she won't be causing any headaches here for a while if the Queen sends her away…'

'Famous last words,' Cleo muttered darkly, earning her a startled look from her old friend, before the two of them headed back towards their own bespoke glades within the Nemeton.

Had she realised at the time that it had been so quiet in the house when she walked into the hallway, closing the front door behind her? Or was that something her mind added later, fifteen years after the fact, trying to tell her that she must have noticed something - anything - out of the ordinary that day.

'Malo? Darling?' She placed her black bag down on the table and removed her top coat, placing it on the wall hook next to her husband's black duster. 'Lyra?'

No reply, from either her husband or their daughter. Puzzled, but unafraid...

Unafraid? Then why was she so cold… so very, very cold. It had been warm in the house, despite the cold outside.

… she walked towards the open door of the parlour, relieved as she stood in the doorway to see Malo in his chair, his back to her so that only his dark hair could be seen above the high-backed chair, and their ten year old daughter playing on the rug, only her legs visible from where she stood.

'Sorry I'm late…' she began. Malo's head began to turn, and suddenly the inner voice was screaming at her please don't… don't turn round… not this time… not this…

The blank oval that turned to face her was devoid of any human features, containing only a single circular gauge, like a huge cyclopean eye filling what should have been a face.

'Welcome home, darling,' said her husband's voice, issuing from a speaker somewhere in that nightmarish void. She stumbled back, clinging to the architraving. Nononono… How couldyouhowcouldyou?

'Lyra? Lyra? LYRA?' she screamed, not wanting to believe he could have done it, after all they discussed. But sure he wouldn't - couldn't…?

Lyra stood up, her back to her mother, and she stared in relief at the long fall of her little girl's black hair, now reaching her waist. Lyra turned to face her, and the relief became a sigh as she stared at her little girl's familiar face, her lovely smile, her sparkling dark eyes…

'Mummy!' Lyra ran towards her, her arms outstretched, and she sank down to one knee to catch her in her arms.

Just as Lyra reached her, in the second before she embraced her daughter, the laughing face slid off, revealing only the perfect, mechanical whirring of hundreds of clockwork complications.

She screamed.

'Luna? Luna? Hush… hush. Just a dream. A bad dream. I got ya. Easy.'

Sobbing, Doc laid her head on Ali's bare shoulder, and let the burly pirate hold in her a bear hug, one hand awkwardly rubbing her sweat-dampened back. It was, as usual, a couple of minutes before she could compose herself enough to sit back up and reach for the bottle on the bedside table. She poured a large measure and gulped it down in one swig, ignoring the insistent meowing and headbutts from the tortoiseshell cat on her sheet-clad lap.

'Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you,' she said eventually. Ali just pushed the damp hair back from her face and shrugged.

'Wasn't sleeping.' He took the tumbler from her fingers and placed it on the table. 'You know, unless you're storing your memories in what's left of your liver, that stuff ain't going to help…'

'Fat lot you know,' she mumbled. 'Gods, why is it that it never plays out the way it did in real life…?'

'Coz dreams are shambolic,' he offered. She stared at him.

'Don't you mean symbolic?' she asked tartly.

Ali grinned. She smiled back wanly. 'Right. Ali-the-philosopher strikes again, huh?'

Mii's insistent demands for attention finally got through and Luna scratched the little cat behind the ears and under the chin, the little body vibrating with an ear-shattering purr. Little paws padded on her lap and she winced as tiny claws went straight through the thin sheet and into her thigh. Ali lifted the cat off her and placed Mii on the edge of the bed instead, where the cat gave him a disdainful look, then settled down to wash her tail.

'You know… I've got something better for what ails you…'

'The remains of that bottle of Laphroaig?' she asked hopefully.

He snorted. 'At the rate you guzzle? Hell no.' He trailed a finger over her far too prominent collarbone and down over one small breast, lingering with surprising delicacy as his thumb brushed the taut, proud nipple. 'A little bit of ol' Ali goes a long way…'

'Good job really,' she retorted tartly, with a pointed stare at his crotch.

'Awww… you know, I gotta say Lu, if you still think this is little you musta been real spoiled over the years…' he grinned at her and made the object of conversation bob up and down. 'Besides, it ain't always about what ya got…'

'After all these years, I still wonder how there's room in your quarters for you, me and your ego,' Luna laughed, falling easily into their usual pattern of banter. It was, as they both admitted, generally easier than - oh - actually facing what bothered you head on.

'And the cat,' Ali added, leaning forwards and scratching Mii under the chin. 'Can't forget the cat… Look - why not come with me this time? Bit of time off the ship won't hurt, and a change of scene would do you good…'

She shook her head. 'I'm a city girl at heart, Ali. You know this. All that jungle… wind, rain… I grew up in a city dome - I don't do weather. Or big scary trees you can't see through…' she shuddered. 'Even if I don't have the distraction of you…' she stopped and slapped at the hand trailing lazily up her inner thigh. 'Hey! Boundaries!'

He pantomimed a hurt look, staring at her with soulful blue eyes under thick lashes. 'Baby… after all this time I thought we didn't have any? Besides, Little Ali wants to get warm, and I know just the place…' His fingers ignored her censure and targeted one of her many ticklish spots, reducing her to frantic giggling contortions, before taking pity on her and pinning her to the bed (displacing one very annoyed cat) and showing her that he could, as always, provide a welcome distraction.

An hour or so later she sat on the edge of the bed pulling her silver-streaked dark hair into a ponytail and watched him as he lay back, arms behind his head and staring at the ceiling.

'Is it me who needs the company or you?' she asked softly. She reached over hand ran a hand down his chest, letting her fingers linger in the thick, wiry blond hairs that wound down in a trail from the patch between his nipples, past his belly button and down to the thicker thatch lower down. 'You've been tying yourself in knots since that Mazone did a number on you. It's not just about your brother, is it? Are you still worried about what you might have told it?'

A grunt was her only acknowledgement, and she sighed. 'What is it with you guys and the whole stoic grunting thing? Is there some macho code that you all sign when you join up?'

'I just can't grab hold of it, Lu. It's bugging me. It feels as though it was so bad I don't want to look at it, if you know what I mean? I don't wanna be responsible for hurting him, Lu. I'd follow Harlock into hell if he asked me - and that goes no bloody further…'

She yanked on a tuft of hair on his chest and smiled disarmingly at her when he yelped and glared at her. 'Heard it before, lover. Though you're usually drunker when you start getting this maudlin…'

'Yeah? Well if someone had left me anything to drink, I might well be deeper in my cups…' he retorted. She blew a raspberry at him, startling the cat, who jumped off the bed with an aggrieved hiss. 'Can't say I'm looking forward to revisiting that planet either. Last time was no picnic… There's something creepy about the place, and it ain't just the tree-high moss that makes you feel like an ant creeping through the undergrowth. Same kinda creepy the plant-things give me, when I think about it. Something old… too old, if you know what I mean? Like it just crept out of the primordial slime and don't like these multi-celled upstarts walkin' around.'

She stroked his arm lightly, feeling the goosebumps on his skin under the wiry gold hairs. 'Something long past its time?' she asked. She shuddered. 'I spent an hour there when we picked you up, sorting out Professor Daiba's team's little rashes and ailments. I needed a shower when I got back to the ship - like I'd gotten something squirming under my skin…'

Ali nodded. 'Couldn't shake that something just walked over my grave feeling the whole two months I was there. But for some reason the Profs and little Tadashi didn't seem to feel it. Maybe it's just me…?'

'Or maybe you've spent too long on this ship,' Luna said softly. 'There's a strange interaction between living things and the dark matter. Not just the physical component that makes so many of the longer serving crew resistant to injury and medication - something gets inside your head. Maybe you just have a deeper connection, given how the planet was so closely linked to the Nibelung? You are one of the longest serving crew after all, aren't you?'

Ali nodded. 'Umm. After Yattaran and Maji, but a few years before Kei. Franz started before Kei… so did Martinez, I think.' He stared past her shoulder absently.

'You could talk to Mimay…'

He shuddered. 'Hell no. She can creep me out faster than those vegetables. She might be more approachable these days, but there's still something damned inhuman lurking behind those lovely big eyes. And it ain't totally benign, no matter what she looks like. Harlock's got a tiger on a leash, not a kitty-cat. Thankfully the boy's got enough sense to know it - I'm not so sure The Captain did…'

'From what I've heard and seen, I suspect he just thought he could handle it,' Luna snorted. 'It's blinding obvious who Patient Zero for the rampant testosterone infection on this ship was…'

The comment raised a snigger from Ali. 'Never thought of it that way…'

She patted his cheek. 'Of course you didn't, lover - you're a man…'

The shrill ring of the alarm on his console interrupted any further reply. With a sigh Ali broke away and slid over to the side of the bed, swinging his legs reluctantly out from under the sheet and wincing as bare feet made contact with the cold floor. 'Shit. They're playing my tune. Gotta run, Doc.' He grabbed a towel and headed for his shower cubicle. 'Catch up before we ship out later?' The water was running and the frosted door shut before she could answer.

Daiba shifted his duffle bag from his left shoulder to his right, then back again. A futile gesture, since it wasn't the damned bag that made him feel lopsided and off balance. He stared at the ramp of the Seventh Star, the edge touching his toes, but couldn't bring himself to step foot on the rubberised matting.

'It's okay, you know.' Harlock's quiet voice next to his left ear murmured. 'Doesn't mean you can't come back to Arcadia. It's just a few weeks.'

'That obvious?' he muttered in reply. He turned to look at his captain-stroke-cousin, who offered a reassuring lop-sided smile. 'Yeah, it does kind of feel as though I'm being ungrateful, just skipping out like this.'

A shrug, almost imperceptibly lifting the heavy black cloak that lay over the older man's shoulders and trailed almost to the ground. 'You stepped forward for a job that needs doing - I'm proud of you. You've come a long way in less than a year. There was a time I was afraid we might have lost you for good.'

And by "lost", Daiba realised he didn't mean physically. He smiled back at Harlock. 'You and me both. But the Arcadia feels like home now. Walking away… it's tougher than I thought.'

Harlock rested one gloved hand on his shoulder. 'It can start to feel like a refuge, after a while. Sometimes it's a good thing to walk away - a refuge can quickly become a crutch, or a shell - it becomes too easy to just rely on it, or to pull the metaphorical covers over your head and tell the world to go hang..'

'Huh. Hence Tabito and Deathshadow Island?' Daiba asked with sudden insight.

Harlock inclined his head slightly. 'Just so.' But he looked past the youth as he spoke, a wider smile spreading over his face. Daiba turned to look in the same direction, and saw the twins and Taro running towards them, waving and shouting.

'That refuge must look terrifyingly tempting at times,' he said quietly, so that only Harlock could hear. The sharp look from his visible eye that accompanied the almost inaudible huff in reply was all the confirmation he needed, as the three small boys charged up and demanded hugs.

'I'll be back,' he promised. Mamoru's arms had a death grip around his neck that he gently disengaged from, almost losing his balance as he tried to stand upright again from squatting down to the boys' height.

'Papa?' Wattaru stared expectantly at his father, and Harlock ruffled his hair gently.

'Blaze will be going with them, Wattaru. And Ali.'

'Yeah - your favourite chew toy will be just fine,' Daiba added with a wink. Wattaru looked baffled, but Taro and Mamoru sniggered at the comment, and he winked at them. All three ran off to say their goodbyes to Ali and Maji - arriving with three crewmen in tow - Cai, and two Daiba didn't recognise - a dark skinned man of middle height and years introduced as Greg, and a tall slim young man perhaps a year or two younger than Zack, whose golden hair topped a face which was a vivid blue.

'Don't stare,' Harlock muttered into his ear. 'He's from a planet in the Greater Magellanic Cloud - some kind of adaptation to the planet's conditions. Nice people - but the planet leaves a lot to be desired.' He raised a hand in greeting. 'Ben - I didn't think you were going to make it back in time!'

'Almost didn't, Captain - but thanks for the leave.' The man shyly approached them, and Daiba tried to remember his manners. But hell… blue…?

'Daiba - this is Ben. He's another archaeologist by trade, so you'll have someone to talk to - he's familiar with the Nibelung ruins and culture. Ben - Tadashi Daiba.'

Daiba took the offered blue hand and tried not to seem too concerned. The blue skin felt totally normal, palms dry and warm.

'Don't worry. Everyone freaks out,' the young pirate offered, with a smile. 'I'm used to it. I read all your father's papers by the way - the guy's a legend in the field! I'd love to compare notes if you…' he trailed off. 'Hell, Kei warned me not to be too effusive, and I'm off already…'

'It's fine. Really.' Daiba tried for a reassuring smile and hoped it didn't come out resembling a snarl. From the beaming smile he got in reply, he could only assume he succeeded.

'If he bothers you, just tell him to sit,' Ali offered as he strode past. 'We love our Benjy but he does kind of bounce a lot when he's excited…' Ben ducked the attempt to mess with his hair and mock growled at Ali, who laughed it off and marched up the ramp, narrowly missing Blaze coming the other way.

'Ali - who else are you taking off me?' Harlock shouted after him.

'Just Roderick - he's sorting out the vehicles,' Ali called back without looking round. 'And if you see him before I do, tell him I want my lucky red sweater back, the thieving bastard!'

Blaze shot Harlock a sympathetic look as the pirate placed a hand to his right temple. 'You want something for that headache?'

'Nothing works, usually,' Harlock replied. 'That's why we thought we'd try giving him to you for a few weeks…'

Blaze sniggered and Ali's voice floated back with an "I heard thaaaaat…." as he vanished into the ship. 'Why me?' he asked plaintively.

Harlock raised his visible eyebrow. 'You volunteered…'

'Yes - for Niflheim. Putting up with Ali for a month on the other hand…' he shook his head and sighed theatrically. 'What was I thinking?'

'You do know I want him back, right? And in one piece?'

Blaze rolled his eyes. 'Oh. Now you're just making it difficult…' but neither man could keep a straight face and Daiba felt a smile creep over his own features as the two shared a laugh. Blaze then turned his attention to Daiba. 'Ready? The ship's a little small…' A snort from Harlock who then aimed for and missed an innocent look when Blaze glared at him. 'So you'll be sharing…'

'With me,' Meg said, appearing at their side like a pink-clad elf. She grinned up at Daiba. 'Rod and Greg tend to tag-team, Benjy's straight but waay too talkative. Zack and Niobe tend to cling together, Maji hardly ever speaks off duty and Ali's a grumpy bastard and a slob, so I figured I'd be a better choice.' She slapped him on the back and sashayed up the ramp with what looked like a brave attempt to mimic Kei's boner-inducing hip swaying grace. Torn between embarrassment and amusement Daiba didn't dare look at the two older men, and thankfully they both took pity on him and said nothing.

Amazing how silence could be deafening… He took his leave and followed Meg up the ramp with as much dignity as he could muster. Most of which vanished quickly when he overheard a familiar bellow from further inside the ship: 'You're sharing with who?!'

He could have sworn his normally so reserved captain-stroke-cousin actually giggled.

Watching Daiba edge nervously past a growling Ali, Harlock bit back a grin. Still, the kid held his ground and just shrugged when Ali waggled a finger under his nose and told him to keep his hands - and other body parts - to himself.

He almost lost it when Daiba quite clearly and selling a put-upon demeanor for all it was worth asked what Ali planned to do to protect him from Meg's wandering hands, leaving the older pirate spluttering and Meg with a fit of the giggles.

'It's going to be a bloody circus on board,' Blaze muttered. 'How the hell do you cope with this on a daily basis?'

'I don't. That's what I keep Kei and Yattaran around for,' Harlock replied smoothly. 'Kei used to say she imagined it was like trying to keep forty-plus toddlers in line. Until she actually had toddlers. Now she says she'd prefer forty toddlers - they're better behaved…'

'Ever considered reviewing that recruitment policy? Must be a bucketload of well-behaved, order-following ex-fleet itching for a life of adventure…' Blaze suggested.

'Tried it. Funnily enough after they get their sea legs they all seem to suffer from the same affliction as the rest,' Harlock replied dryly. Blaze didn't even bother to hide the snigger. He leaned against the hydraulic lift for the ramp nonchalantly.

'So - Oedo's gone. Oki lifts off tomorrow - when were you planning on taking off?'

'Our window is approximately six days - assuming Kei and Yattaran did their sums right, that's when the group we plan to look in on are scheduled to drop out of IN-SKIP. Otherwise it'll be like hunting for a needle in a haystack. Too early and they might scan us - too late we'll never find them.'

Blaze smiled as he watched Harlock's gaze turn to follow the boys playing happily nearby. 'Doesn't hurt to have a bit of time with the family either, right?'

Harlock smiled. 'No. I'd leave Kei with them if I thought she'd stay, but she insists on making sure I stay out of trouble. It tears her apart sometimes though - somedays I wish we could lead that normal life…'

Blaze snorted. 'Seriously? You'd be bored in a week. Not with your kids, mind you - but the two of you have the Adventure Bug as dad used to call it. Him and mum were the same.'

Harlock turned back to face him and gave him an appraising stare. 'I never asked - but did it bother you - you and Marin, that is - growing up with your parents always off fighting?'

'Worried that your tykes might be upset? We missed them, sure - but like you and Kei, they were always careful to make time for us when it was safe, and make sure we knew they loved us. Sometimes, yeah, I envy our Baby Sibs having them around more than we did, but we didn't lack for anything and we didn't turn out so bad, did we?' He stared over Harlock's head, to a point before the horizon where a lone, man-made hill stood out against the skyline. 'I miss him now though,' he said softly. Harlock placed a hand on his friend's arm, but said nothing.

They parted with a handshake and a wave a few minutes later, and Harlock watched the little ship take off from a safe distance, the dust laden breeze caused by the engines whirling round him, causing both his cloak and his fine hair to flutter dramatically as the Seventh Star sprang from the ground and into the skies, quickly dwindling to a tiny dot and then to nothing.