Deathshadow Island.

Having Blaze and Marin around was always entertaining, but Harlock did occasionally need to get some space; not from them, but from his own past. The cheerful banter between the brothers, and the almost casual way they had each other's backs conjured memories he wished he could escape. He had Kei, true, but he missed the brother he'd once had, before he'd broken him with one thoughtless act.

He took refuge from those maudlin reflections in the area in one of the unused hangers, set aside for specimen collection and storage of botanical samples. Over the years it had become a large experimental facility which doubled as both a working lab and garden for the station. Hydroponics worked well for soft fruit and salad but not for root vegetables, or trees. Using Nami's notes he'd painstakingly recreated an ecosystem which was, slowly, becoming as self-sustainable as he could have hoped for in such artificial circumstances. Insect, fungal and microbial populations were carefully monitored. Soil (imported from the more Earth-biome friendly planets) was rotated, watered, composted and fertilised to within an inch of its life, the whole kit and kaboodle watched over by an AI designed by Tochiro and Yattaran using an abandoned prototype from the Deathshadow Project, that they'd lifted from the derelict Arcadia Engineering station on Titan. Programmed with the information from his mother's and later Nami's experiments, and constantly updated with information he took from every terraforming station he came across, it did all the hard work.

The Machine War had left several prime agricultural worlds in ruins, and their priority was in helping them to recover. Humanity had learned the hard way that eking out a living on dusty, dry and largely hostile worlds was not going to work. That had been one driving force behind the Homecoming War, after all.

From somewhere deep in the bowels of the Gaia Sanction's records, Tochiro had uncovered old files with his mother's image and voice in them. Although he rarely had the nerve to use the holographic interface, today was a day he'd felt as though he needed the sight and sound of her, even though she'd been gone for almost half his life now. She'd been tall and lovely, and her soft voice reading out the dry statistics wasn't something he'd get tired of.

She took after her grandmother, Aurora, Tochiro said over the speakers. Harlock's niece - she stayed behind on Mars after the war, because her fiancé was wounded.

He so rarely volunteered any family history, Harlock's ears perked up. But he fell silent again, the sounds of an ancient ship creaking in the ocean a sure fire sign that he was remembering something too painful to discuss. Harlock let it lie - whatever had gone down during those last few weeks of the war, and its aftermath, was not something Tochiro felt like reliving often. He'd gathered titbits over the years - the older Harlock's choices and actions had had terrible personal costs as well as larger sins. Both he and Tochiro had had family still living on Earth when the Deathshadow Four had destroyed it - a small thing in the footnotes of the deaths of millions and an entire planet, but more painful.

There was a picture - printed, not digital - in the former Harlock's old desk, that had been torn into pieces and then painstakingly re-assembled. Two men - one obviously the old captain, the other a slightly shorter man, his features not very clear due to the sheer amount of creasing, crumpling and the vain attempt to stick the pieces back together. Both were in uniform - Harlock wearing the bars marking his rank as commodore - and why it had never occurred to Harlock that given command of the four Deathshadow class ships, his ancestor had to have held a rank greater than a mere "captain" he wasn't sure. He guessed it came down to him always being referred to as "The Captain", with almost audible capitalisation, by his former crew. The other wore what looked like the stars of a rear admiral at the very least. Harlock's half brother, Mamoru. Another casualty of Harlock's grand folly, he supposed, but why he'd been torn out of the picture and painstakingly replaced it was a mystery, and thus far Tochiro had refused point blank to answer any questions on the subject.

But then, family could do that to you.

Case in point, Blaze stuck his head around the door and invited himself in. Not that Harlock begrudged the company - far from it. Blaze dropped heavily into the chair on the other side of his desk and took the glass with a good two fingers of whiskey in it without even checking to see what the contents were before knocking it back. Some days Harlock had to wonder why he bothered offering guests the good stuff. 'You look as though you need the bottle, not just the glass,' he opined as Blaze placed the crystal tumbler back on the desk.

Blaze sighed, and ran his hands through his hair, which was almost as long and untidy as Harlock's, though a shade or three redder. 'Better not,' he said, sounding as though he had seriously considered the option. 'The Thieves' border patrol on the edge of the galactic arm found one of Hunter's packs marauding. Got caught in the middle of an exchange of transport ships and we took several casualties. I'd love to know who's funding that bastard,' he ended on an uncharacteristic snarl. 'How does a piece of trash like that get his hands on Capital class ships? And they're not a design I recognise, either.'

'Deep pockets and plausible deniability…' Harlock mused out loud.

'What?'

Harlock pulled a face. 'Thinking out loud. Tochiro - could you get someone to fetch Ben please? Blaze - can your team send over what you've got on those ships?'

By the time Ben was admitted to the lab, they were poring over the specs Blaze's crew had sent over. None of those ship designs were to be found in the Arcadia's database, and they were far too well armed for Harlock's peace of mind.

Harlock sighed. Calling Hunter a piece of bottom-feeding trash was an insult to bottom-feeding trash everywhere. The man was an opportunistic, greedy, savage, sadistic, brutal thug. Thankfully his proclivities made recruiting - and retaining - anyone with even half a brain and any personal ambition almost impossible. Even evil had standards. But with military grade ordinance like this, even a sleazy pervert could cause a significant amount of trouble.

'Captain?' Ben sauntered over. 'You wanted to see me?'

'Pull up a chair,' Harlock told him. 'And run an eye over these will you? I have a theory…'

Barely two screens in, Ben sat back in his chair, glared at the screen and grunted. 'Those are Illumidas ships. Dated, but still serviceable it seems. What are they doing out here?'

'Part of our problem and possibly yours as well,' Harlock told him. 'Oh - in case introductions haven't been made yet - Blaze, this is Ben…'

'As you can see, I'm not from around these parts,' Ben dead-panned as he offered his hand, which was taken in what Harlock knew from experience to be a stronger grip than anyone would think from the affable Blaze. 'Ben - Blaze, a dear friend and one of the leaders of an operation called…'

'The Millennial Thieves?' Ben smiled. 'Oh, we've heard of you. Formed during the Homecoming War as an independent intelligence gathering agency - and champions of the underdogs, from what our records say. Where the official governments won't step in, you go?'

'Something like that,' Blaze murmured.

It was hard to follow sometimes just what the organisation's remit was… they had been involved heavily in Lar Metal's rebellion against their former queen, Ra Larela, and her policy of using slave labour to keep the elite living in their cozy towers, and again against Ra Andromeda Promethium and her attempts (still ongoing) to mechanise the entire human race. But piracy, trafficking, slavery, greedy corporations with lousy safety policies and a high turnover of disposable workers? Those were their particular bugbears in a galaxy too big for the SDF to police effectively. It was too big for the Millennial Thieves as well to be fair, but they (and the Arcadia) did their bit.

Ben was still talking: 'Those transports they're escorting… look suspiciously like the one I was captured by. It seems there is a definite link in the trade between our two galaxies.'

Our old friend Hunter,' Harlock said bluntly. Blaze called up his wanted poster. A heavy-jowled, piggy-eyed bruiser with lank black hair moving rapidly away from his forehead, a straggly beard, thick lips and a corpulent figure that sadly didn't slow him down as much as Harlock would have liked in close combat. 'If any corporation, planetary government or any private individual with enough money wants a dirty job doing, he's the man who can find you someone to do it. He's been operating long enough - and covering enough territory - to give some serious credence to the rumours that he's been deeply involved with the Shaitan Separatists for a very long time - I've killed him twice that I know of…'

'Four for me, Marin's taken out two and Hannibal swears blind he tried to take out the same piece of trash over ninety years ago…' Blaze added dryly. At Ben's puzzled look he added: 'Cloning. Doppler and his pointy-eared elites have been using serial clones for centuries, downloading their consciousness into new bodies. Seems that's part of Hunter's contract…'

'Only in parallel, not serial,' Harlock added.

'Who's Hannibal?'

'Good question..' Harlock muttered, with a sideways glance at Blaze, who just shrugged.

'Don't look at me - I've known the man all my life but he rarely talks about himself. I always thought he was Lar Metallian, since he's so ancient…' Another shrug. 'I did ask him about these ships but he didn't have anything on them either. So whatever - or whoever - is supporting Hunter's operations between the galaxies is a new player on our side of things.'

'The Illumidas Empire is somewhat "expansionist",' Ben told them in a tone of voice that suggested he was holding back on what he'd really like to say on the subject. 'Not too keen on getting their own hands dirty, and like the group they split from a few hundred years ago, find it rather convenient that there's a race who look so different to themselves they can't blend in with their own kind and be mistaken for citizens… hence constant raids, often escalating into all out war as they keep needing more and more slave labour.' At Blaze's puzzled look he shrugged. 'We're blue, they're green. And apparently they also do a roaring trade between galaxies since there are enough arseholes on your side who find blue skin exotic enough to be a commodity your side, and your garden variety Terran skin tones also stand out like a sore thumb and make useful slaves on ours. Although that's less common since the Machine War for some reason…'

'Those who don't mechanise either get turned into intelligent parts for the machine planet Promethium's building, ditto for war machines, or their life force is distilled and used as a kind of mood and cognitive enhancing drug for the machine men who can afford it.' Blaze said bleakly. 'I suspect it's more profitable to just ship them off to the Soul Forges.'

Ben pulled a face. 'Oh. That I didn't know. That is truly disturbing.' Wordlessly, Harlock poured and handed him a drink, which he downed in one before staring approvingly and somewhat wistfully at his glass, belatedly realising he'd just poured one of Earth's few remaining treasures down his neck like Andromedan rotgut. Harlock took pity on him and poured another, which he nursed tenderly this time with the air of someone who appreciated the finer things. 'I might be able to get word home about those ships - can't do much about what's already here but I can try and make sure no more get through.'

'I thought you were in disgrace?' Harlock couldn't resist the prod, but Ben shrugged it off with an apologetic little smile.

'Let's just say that on matters of internal security, my word will carry enough weight to get the right people involved.'

'That,' Blaze murmured admiringly, 'is one of the most masterful pieces of misdirection I've heard outside of the Queen's court on Lar Metal…'

Harlock didn't dare look at him. He might have completely destroyed the years of careful work to build up his reputation as a stoic badass with one indulgent snigger. But watching that beatifically smiling angelic blue countenance under its halo of golden curls, he had the distinct impression he wasn't fooling anyone. The first rule was "never play a player", and "Ben" was most definitely a player. By the time he left the room he'd finagled himself into whatever plan Blaze and Harlock cooked up to deprive Hunter of his newest toys.

'How did we end up inviting him along?' Blaze asked once the door had irised shut behind Harlock's latest recruit.

'Beats me. But if he's as good as he thinks he is, it might not be such a bad thing.' Harlock took a long swallow of vintage whiskey. 'Besides, I think I prefer this one where I can keep my eye on him, at least until I've got his measure.'

'He's used to being obeyed,' Blaze mused. 'Could be a problem.'

'Nothing we can't handle, though, between us?' They shared a smile and Blaze toasted Harlock with his tumbler. Harlock would have said he loved this man like a brother, except his relationship with his real brother was dysfunctional at best and downright abusive at worst. Blaze's father however had been a dear friend and his brother still was, but Blaze? Somehow they'd just clicked from the first time they met, as though they'd known each other all their lives. Layla Shura, mysterious dirigent of the SDF, talked of "souls travelling together" across the Rings of Time, and that came as close to describing it as Harlock could ever get.

'I know you don't want to risk missing your chance of picking up Tadashi's trail,' Blaze continued, saying out loud what Harlock didn't really want to say. 'But Mom and Hannibal are more than willing to help out there if it helps - and we do have more resources than you do, Harlock. The Arcadia would be far better placed to take out those ships with a minimum of fuss. Let them follow the trail - I can pick up some ships and help you take out the trash.' When Harlock hesitated, he continued: 'Delegation of the task isn't delegation of responsibility, Harlock. I know you promised to take care of him, but it's not your fault he went on the run. Hannibal can set more people in more places onto this than you can, and so can Mom. You and I can do what we do best, which is…'

'The SDF's job for them?'

'Ooh… Burn.' Blaze poured himself another drink and grinned at his friend. 'The specs on those ships are a little disturbing to say the least, tough.'

'And we don't know how many he has,' Harlock pointed out. 'I'm not sure us going in guns blazing is a great idea, much though I love the offer.' Harlock had the glimmerings of an idea, but Kei for one was not going to like it. 'If he's just got a handful of ships of that size, we can deal. But this is Hunter, and one thing I've learned over the years is that he never does anything small. You saw what - three?'

'One capital class, two destroyers,' Blaze nodded as he spoke. 'You're right, he does tend to go all in…' He took a long drink. 'That's more than enough reasonable cause to talk to Layla Shura…'

'Talk, yes. But without knowing what he has, the SDF does not have enough ships in this area to take on more than that. Not since…' Not since two of their battleship captains had gone rogue and turned on their own fleet. After the Machine Wars the SDF was still rebuilding, and the loss of both the Epimetheus and the Prometheus - plus the ships they'd taken down in that nasty firefight, had hit them hard. Especially since they'd also flattened the space port in the process, where several new ships were still in their construction cradles. Harlock said nothing out loud - he didn't need to. Blaze, his brother and himself had known Colonel Ichimonji and Colonel Douglas well enough to call them friends. The whole thing stank, but regardless of the hows and whys, the end result was the same; the SDF and its offshoot the SPG were not in a great place right now, and Harlock wondered, given Hunter's suspected ties to the Shaitan Separatists, if there was more going on here. The timing was just too perfect…

'Doppler, huh?' Blaze sometimes knew him as well or even better than Kei or Tochiro. Harlock smiled weakly. 'Well that makes sense. But an alliance with an alien nation from another galaxy?'

Harlock reached for the bottle. 'According to Ben, a bunch of equally aggressive, bigoted, entitled, expansionist arseholes.' He topped them both up, his own glass rather more than Blaze's, but then he could burn it off with dark matter before it had an effect. Blaze - not so much. 'I wonder if Hunter knows he's being used as a convenient cut-off by both sides?'

'More to the point, I'm not sure he'd care,' Blaze pointed out, punctuating the observation by toasting him silently. 'Ever think we both missed our calling some days? There are times I wonder if I shouldn't have just kept my commission rather than joining up with my parents. I seem to end up with the same job…'

I think you're both where you need to be, Tochiro opined over the speakers. You'd both be too constrained by the rules of regular service to cut loose and do what has to be done. He sniggered. Two bloody peas in a pod you two. You sure you're not a Harlock, Blaze old pal?

'Dead sure,' Blaze drawled back. 'I don't think the family has the monopoly on tall, dark, handsome and with a terrifying lack of self preservation…'

'I'm sure you meant to say "heroic",' Harlock drawled right back.

He smirked. 'No… no, I really didn't. And before you ask, no, I'm not quoting mom this time. That one was all Hannibal. Said with some long-suffering exasperation after that debacle with our little Rei…'

Since that incident had led to Harlock, Zero, Blaze, Marin and two equally impulse-prone SDF colonels getting in on the action, Harlock suspected the old man had a point there… Though he had felt the need to point out to the mysterious hooded founder of the Millennial Thieves that it wasn't his fault the planet had disintegrated less than forty-eight hours after he'd left… He had a strong suspicion there had been some world-class eye rolling and heartfelt sighing going on behind that mask. Harlock wouldn't take a bet that he'd be on the receiving end of more of the same after this caper as well.

Blaze just shrugged when he offered that opinion. 'He's got no room to talk, from what I hear. Don't let him get to you. You wriggle like a kid up in front of a headmaster whenever he's on screen…'

'Funny. It's kind of how he makes me feel,' Harlock replied a tad waspishly. 'Like I'm constantly being evaluated…'

Blaze grinned. 'Aww… if he had a real problem with you, you'd know about it. Briefly.'

'Well… that's reassuring… Not.' Harlock made an attempt to drag the conversation back on topic. 'We need a plan…'

That'd be a first

'No-one asked you,' Harlock told him. The silence left him with the distinct impression his ship's guiding "soul" had just stuck his tongue out at him.

'There's a dive they all hang out at - a kind of "pirate island" they call New Barataria. Made up of a mass of hollowed out asteroids and old wrecks tethered together. ' Blaze said, looking thoughtful.

'I know it. Not our kind of place.'

'The ambiance is a little rough and ready,' Blaze admitted with a grin. 'We've snuck in and out before - and by "we" I mean me, Dad and Mal. One of those places where they sweep up the eyeballs after closing - except they don't close…'

An inter-galactic biker bar?

When they both looked blankly at each other, Tochiro sighed. I miss the old days… We used to go slumming in Bayreuth when Harlock felt the itch for a good fight. I remember one time Mamoru had to drag two burly, tattooed custodians of modern chemistry off of us in a car park, when Harlock decided to hot-wire their bikes for shiggles

'You know…' Harlock said slowly, the beginnings of an idea working through his brain, 'that's not a bad idea…'

'Start a fight?'

'Sneaking in won't work - I'm too noticeable. Hunter has my biometrics - with and without eyepatch - plastered all over every dive his people frequent. But if we get right in their faces…'

'You want to walk into a heavily fortified pirate den full of the dregs of humanity…'

'Yep.'

'... and start a bar fight?'

'Yep.'

'You're insane.'

'It'll get us noticed. Create a big enough fuss and Hunter will come for a look, I guarantee it. He won't be able to resist.' Harlock smirked into his drink. 'And if he thinks he has me at his mercy, he'll not be able to resist the Arcadia being dangled under his nose supposedly without her captain…'

'You cannot know he'll fall for it,' Blaze pointed out, But his long thin nose was twitching, a sure sign he was considering it.

'He's always been predictable. Slippery, but predictable. He's got this new hardware - how better to get noticed and make more of a name for himself than to take out Captain Harlock and the Arcadia?'

'And meanwhile…'

'Mal and a few friends will be waiting.' Harlock chuckled. 'I wonder if our new friend from the GMC can bring anything to the party?'

Kei's gonna kill you

'I rather think,' Blaze said dryly, reaching for Harlock's best decanter, 'that she'll have to take a number this time and get in line…'