Our dried voices, when

We whisper together

Are quiet and meaningless

As wind in dried grass

TS Eliott - The Hollow Men

Planet Filament

Wataru awakened in the cockpit with a groan, and lifted his head from the control panel. It took a few seconds for his head to clear, and he could take in his situation.

First glance? Not good. It was pitch black and the cockpit power was out. But wherever they were, there was gravity, and the plane was on the ground. Or at least, wasn't moving. Behind his seat he could hear Guy moving and groaning.

'Yûki?' The sound was muffled, so the speaker wasn't on.

'Yeah. Still here. Power's out on my dash - you?'

'Same.'

Endless safety drills kicked in, and he started to check the suit. With the craft's power out, backup air was a priority, as was life support. Thankfully living on a spaceship or a deep space base for most of his early years, the drills were second nature to the point where doing them in the dark came as naturally as breathing. The latter of which he concentrated on, as his parents had taught them all. Slow, deep, even.

Air was working just fine, so the power had been knocked out, the backup was on, which meant… He reached for the reset panel.

Click.

He relaxed as the lights came back on and the ship powered up. The cockpit lights he kept on backup, powered down to a dim yellow glow just enough to read the instrumentation by.

Altitude: Zero. Good news.

Landing gear: still in the belly. Not so good… taking off again wasn't an option. But at least whatever had grabbed them had let them down gently.

Again, not so good. It meant who or whatever it was Had Plans for them™… But: think positive - they were alive, armed, and pissed off, judging from the comments coming from Guy's side of things.

'All good inside for now,' he told Guy. 'What have you got on the scanners?'

'It's cold out, but bearable in suits without a boost to the environmentals. Oxygen levels within human norms, ditto across the board for atmosphere. Gravity point nine-eight Earth standard. Oh - and according to the big black sun in the sky? It's daylight.'

'Black sun?' Wataru peered out of the canopy. Outside the plane, the sky looked as black as deep space. The dim light inside meant he had to stare past his faint reflection. 'Hang on,' he warned Guy. 'Turning off the lights for a bit.'

He had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but Guy was right, it was "daylight", but the light outside, such as it was, had a peculiar quality to it, akin to the strange twilight during an eclipse. The sun overhead was indeed black, seen through the protective filter of the cockpit canopy, and overall the impression he had was of looking at the world in negative. All was black, grey and white. Everything was shadows, and those shadows moved in queer ways, when there was nothing he could see to cast them.

'I'm going out to take a look,' he told Guy. 'Stay here and try to raise the Sirius.'

'Are you off your rocker? You can't just take a walk out there by yourself!'

Inside his helmet Wataru smiled to himself at Guy's spluttering. 'Just shut the canopy behind me, you'll be safe enough.'

'That isn't what I mean and you know it. You do this all the time; just run headlong into trouble without backup. You think you're your damned father. But even he takes backup into a fight.'

Takes was stretching that point, Wataru thought. Expected everyone else to keep up was closer to the mark, though he didn't bother correcting Guy's assessment. 'It's not a fight,' Wataru corrected him calmly. 'It's just a quick recon. I'll be back. Ten minutes tops, just to get a feel for the terrain. Maybe there's a settlement or something? You know we can't both go; one of us has to stay and try the comms.'

'The rules say we stay put.'

Aaaand there it came. You could always rely on Guy to pull that one out at some point. 'The rules don't really cover situations like this, Guy. I'm not waiting around with limited resources on the off chance the Sirius is out there and looking for us.'

'Fine. But I'm writing up my objections.'

'Kind of figured you would,' Wataru murmured, as he popped the canopy's manual control. He jumped out onto the wing and then down to the ground, landing with a satisfying - and reassuring - thud on springy ground. It might have been rough meadow at one point, but the grasses were desiccated, rustling in a sharp, cold wind. He shivered, but resisted the temptation to turn on the environmentals. Apart from the light from the plane, the diffuse crepuscular gloom was unbroken by anything that made seeing where he was going easy. He pulled his torch out from his utility pouch, and turned it on. He did a quick three-sixty to see if anything caught his eye, but apart from a few stunted trees, as dead as the dry grass that reached his knees, there was nothing.

Before doing anything else he checked the underside of the plane. As expected, the landing gear hadn't been engaged, so they lay belly down in the long grass. There was no trail leading up to their resting place, so whatever had transported them here had at least set them down gently. He duly informed Guy, who harrumphed at him. 'If they took that much care, they'll be along shortly to collect us. Buggered if I'm staying here on my own for that.'

He jumped down next to Wataru, who grinned at him through his faceplate. 'You might want to rephrase that - you know all those stories about alien abductions? What about the rules?'

'Screw it. We're safer together. If you won't stay put, looks like I'm watching your back.'

'You know I'll have to mention that attitude in my write up?'

'Bite me.' Guy took out his torch in one hand and his pistol in the other. Wataru unholstered his own weapon, a decidedly non-regulation piece that had been a parting gift from his parents. 'Don't even think of suggesting we split up - I've seen those warp-vids…'

'When do they ever end well for the grumpy sidekick?' Wataru teased him. 'Any preference on a direction? It's all grass as far as I can see - which isn't far, admittedly.'

'I took a few readings. There are some energy fluctuations from planetary north. Could be a town?'

'Distance?'

'Five miles.' He looked down at his feet and grimaced. 'In space combat boots… I'll have blisters.'

'Should have broken the damned things in properly,' Wataru told him. 'Why do you think my father always wears his to destruction and avoids the shiny new ones mom tries to make him wear?'

'Personally? Because he's a bit of a scruffy slacker and doesn't give a shit about what people think.'

Wataru laughed. 'Well, that too. But he learned the hard way you gotta live in what you wear, and since you never know what shit's going to jump out at you, well-worn boots, comfy body armour and the most powerful handgun you can carry are the best friends you'll ever have out here.'

'Easy for him to say,' Guy grumped. 'He stuck two fingers up to military rules, uncomfortable uniforms and shiny boots.' He shone his torch at Wataru's shiny black boots. 'Among other things… Wait… how come…'

'Maji,' Wataru told him. 'See, dad can choose to look the part, when he wants to. He gets Maji to make any new ones look old. Just to piss mom off, I think.'

Guy shook his head. 'Why hasn't she just shot him yet?'

'Mystery for our times,' Wataru laughed. 'So - north?' He waved his torch in the direction.

'Seems as good as any,' Guy agreed. 'Give me a minute to set up our piece of string so we can find our way back to where we parked.'

'Why? We're not getting that bird off the ground without a winch. You might want to grab the packs though…'

'Who died and put you in charge?' Guy grumbled, but he did fetch the survival packs from their compartment on the outside of the plane. He handed one to Wataru. 'Water's going to be the main problem.'

'You do remember we were on the same survival course, right?' Wataru slipped the rucksack onto his back and tightened the straps. 'Also, what my father actually does for a living…'

'When he's not kicking the shit out of traffickers, pirates, mechanoids, metanoids and generally saving the galaxy one kitten at a time?'

'Yeah, that.' Wataru knelt and dug his gloved fingers into the earth. 'The plants are dessicated, but the soil isn't.' He rubbed it between his fingers and showed Guy the streaks it left on the leather. 'Whatever killed the vegetation, it wasn't lack of water. Topsoil's got moisture. Whatever happened just sucked the life out of the plants…' He swore under his breath, placed his pistol back in its holster and pulled out his knife. He used the blade to dig deeper into the soil, turning over several clods. 'Thought so…'

'Care to explain?' Guy knelt beside him and peered at the soil.

'Remember what happened to Mistral? The machinners used something that sucked the life right out of the soil there? Dad's been working with your people for years trying to restore it - not making a huge amount of headway until the Mazone offered to help.' He poked again at the sample in his hand. 'No worms.' he dropped the soil back to the ground and brushed his hands off on his pants leg. 'Same thing - or very similar.'

'Like Earth as well, but on a smaller scale?'

Wataru grimaced. 'Seems to bear out the dark matter theory at least. That machine on your homeworld was based on Nibelung technology.' He got to his feet. 'Come on. Let's check out that signal. If there is a town maybe they can help us find the Sirius.'

'Or maybe they were responsible?'

'Either way, we'd find the ship then, wouldn't we?' He began walking in the direction Guy had suggested, forcing the other youth to keep up.

'Can't fault your logic,' Guy muttered as he drew level. He wasn't much shorter than his classmate, but Wataru had a habit of striding out as far as his long legs would reach. Unlike his twin however, he wasn't a complete asshole, and soon shortened his stride to allow them both to settle into a comfortable, ground covering lope.


They'd been using the torches to sweep the ground in front of them for less than twenty minutes, when the light began to fail them. Guy shook his, switched it on and off a couple of times, and double checked the battery. 'I don't get it - according to the readout, it's fully charged.'

'The shadows… they're draining the light,' Wataru said quietly.

'The battery's fine…'

'I didn't say the battery. I said the light. It's not the torch losing power - the shadows are getting closer. Watch.' Wataru shone his torch ahead of him, and waited.

Slowly but surely, the circle of light it projected shrank as the young men watched. Guy shivered. 'You're right - it's as bright as ever closer to us. Are we drawing those shadows towards us?'

'Maybe.' Wataru switched his torch off, leaving them in the perpetual gloom that surrounded them. 'We can't travel fast if we can't see where we're going, but if the shadows keep deepening like this, we won't make any progress at all.'

'Can I go on record as saying I really don't like this? It's not exactly what I signed up for…'

'Shush.'

Guy bristled. 'Don't you shush me. You're not my bloody cap…'

'I heard something. Could you please shut up for five seconds?' Times like this, Wataru started to understand Mamoru's tendency to resort to a string of expletives. But Guy got the hint, and shushed. Wataru clicked off his torch, and pulled Guy down into the long grass.

With the only sound at first their own less than calm breathing, he thought he'd overreacted. Then he heard it again. A rhythmic pounding in a three/four beat. One. Two. Three. Pause. One. Two. Three. Pause.

'Horses,' he whispered in Guy's ear. 'At least three.'

'Got some sort of native tracker skills now?' Guy whispered back.

'Cantering, and the hoofbeats aren't in sync. If you listen you can hear the timing differences.' When Guy started to stand up to take a look, Wataru grabbed his belt and pulled him back down. 'Now who's being an idiot. You really think these are friendlies?' As if on cue, a blood-curdling scream ripped through the still air.

The hoofbeats slowed, and excited voices carried from a spot far too close for comfort. Signalling Guy to stay low, Wataru slunk towards them on his belly, wriggling carefully, quietly, through the grass, Guy following close behind.

Five mechanical horses stood like statues in what looked like the remains of a road, their single eyes glowing a dull red. Three were still mounted, mechanised men on their backs, glowing dials where their eyes should be; lipless gashes for mouths, their angular bodies dressed in a parody of human clothing - rich brocades and silks that hung from skeletal shoulders with less aesthetic effect than fabric draped over a mannequin. Two were on the ground, bending over a figure and laughing with a staccato mechanical drone as they poked at whatever it was with the business end of their rifles.

'This one's still fresh enough!' one of the dismounted hunters called out. 'We'll drain it here and the shadows can have what's left!'

Guy stirred, and Wataru had to haul him back down again before his head breached the safety of the long grass. 'There are too many,' he whispered into Guy's left ear. 'And we're too late.'

The speaker was already holding up a phail filled with a substance that gave off a wispy blue light, and the figure it had been holding - a man in SDF Survey Corp coveralls - was dropped to the ground like a discarded sweet wrapper.

The sound of the wind whispering through the dry grass took on a deeper, more ominous tone, and Wataru would have sworn on oath the shadows surrounding the group of hunters were getting thicker as he watched. The two on the ground looked around with sharp, quick movements, and mounted their impassive steed with more haste than he'd have expected them to show. Whatever it was that had them spooked, they didn't appear to want to hang around, because they whipped and kicked their mechanical beasts into a fast gallop, heading along the road towards the south.

With the little light the glowing machinners had provided gone, the shadows grew even deeper around the fallen crewman. Even Guy had gone deathly still and quiet, as they watched.

The shadows moved separately from the ambient gloom of the perpetual twilight. At times Wataru thought he could make out human forms in them, twisting and writhing as though engaged in a mass brawl that you could make out only in the shadows on a wall cast by firelight. Eventually one appeared to triumph, and moved out from the cluster of darkness, laying itself over the fallen figure.

Then the dead crewman stood up, glowing with a sickly green light.

'Oh, fuck,' Wataru breathed out. Now it was his turn to have his face pushed into the prickly hay, as Guy shoved him down as he instinctively tried to stand. Both of them lay as flat as possible, peering through the covering grasses as best they could, until the shadows thinned and dissipated, and the awkward, shambling dead man walking followed them, taking the same road the machinners had a few minutes earlier, but heading north.

They both sat up cautiously, and breathed simultaneous sighs of relief that the coast appeared to be clear, although every twitching shadow cast by a nearby lone tree had them hovering their hands over their pistols. 'What was that?' Guy asked eventually in a soft voice. 'Was it..'

'Yeah. A reboot. At least from what Mamoru and Zee told me, that's what it looked like.

'So, the same kind of things that killed my father?' Guy snarled this out. Wataru nodded slowly. Guy's father, Rick, had been an occasional crewman aboard the Arcadia, being an exceptional pilot and a good friend of Harlock's. A couple of years back, he'd been sequestrated at some point unknown by one of the metanoid infiltrators working in their galaxy. It was still a painful subject for his father.

'Yes. Except… Metanoids don't look human - they're kind of spindly, more like Nibelung physiology. Those shadows… when they moved, they looked human.' He shivered. 'Now I know why it freaks Mamoru out to talk about it. That's just… wrong.'

'But humans can't do that, right?'

'Who knows? We're not exactly in our universe anymore, are we?' When Guy raised an eyebrow he pointed to the sky. 'Black sun. Black light. The planet still kind there but not? What if we're in the metanoid dimension? Maybe those shadows we saw were the inhabitants of this planet?'

'And what? Taking over the bodies of the crew of that survey ship? And us?' Guy frowned. 'But why are the machinners still up and walking?'

'Nibelung tech, remember? That blue light? That's the life force they extract in the Great Retorts on Dai Andromeda. The same force that surrounds the Arcadia and her crew. I've seen it dancing around dad at times, and the old Harlock. It's connected to the dark matter, so makes sense they'd "survive". Besides, in a way, they're already dead, so…' He shuddered. 'We've got to find the Sirius, Guy. Those machinners took off towards the plane, so we're definitely on the menu.'

'Don't know about you, but I'm way too handsome and talented to end up as a snack for some entitled dial-head,' Guy snarled. 'And if these shadows are taking bodies, that's not happening…'

'I'm far prettier than you are,' Wataru pointed out, trying to lift the mood. 'There were about a hundred and twenty crew on that survey ship. Three hundred on the Sirius. You really think that's enough to go round on a planet whose last census listed a population of around twenty-five thousand humans and two thousand machinners?'

'Had to bring up the numbers, didn't you.' Guy looked more than slightly dyspeptic. 'That hand cannon your dad gave you wipes out dial-heads, I know that - how is it against Evil Shadow People?' He didn't wait for an answer, but after a quick check of their surroundings, got to his feet then offered Wataru a helping hand. 'Never mind. Two cadets against a planet full of weird-assery. If this were one of those warp vids, we'd be home by sunset and getting medals pinned on our chests for saving everyone, including some wandering stray dog.'

'And since it isn't?'

'We're totally fucked. But I'm not sitting on my ass to wait for it. If I'm going down, I'm going down fighting.'

Wataru grinned, although inwardly he seconded the sentiment. 'Guy?'

'Umm?'

'When we get back, I'll put in a good word for you with Nami if you really want.'

'Now that,' Guy replied with a shit-eating grin on his normally impassive face, 'is something worth fighting for. What are we waiting for? Do or die, I guess. Yûki-kun!' His grin spread into a smirk. 'Guess I might just go easy on your twin if we get out of this, and not tear his arms and legs off for fucking my sister after all…'

Wataru, who'd taken a couple of steps, tripped over a tussock and had to be fielded by his partner. 'He did what?!' His voice rose a couple of octaves. Then his brain caught up to his mouth as he kept pace with Guy. 'Wait a minute… she's four years older than us. What're you blaming Mamoru for?'

Guy laughed and slapped him on the back. 'Your fucking face, Yûki! Oh man, if you could have seen it!' He snorted. 'Mind you, kinda have to thump him one on principle… she is still my sister.'

'Claire can take care of herself,' Wataru pointed out. 'She's already got a posting to one of those new battle-trains.' They both sighed wistfully, and shared rueful grins. 'Gotta get ourselves out of this mess if we want one of those babies,' Wataru added.

'See. Power of positive thinking,' Guy agreed.

'Hang on… a couple of minutes ago you said we were totally fucked…'

'Well, that was before you dangled Nami in my face. The universe would not be so cruel as to deny me that date.'

'The universe might not. Dad's another matter entirely,' Wataru pointed.

Guy slapped his shoulder again, ignoring the filthy look Wataru sent his way. 'I get you out of this? He'd probably gift-wrap her and drop her off in person… And give me the keys to the Arcadia for the night...'

Wataru lengthened his stride. 'There's positive… and there's deluded, Guy.'

Guy chuckled. 'Man's gotta have dreams, Yûki-kun!'

'And stop calling me that - I'm your senior classman and two months older than you!'

'Aye aye, senpai!'

Wataru growled something that would have made even Mamoru take a step back in shock, and carried on walking, heading for the road.


Arcadia

With his choice of displacement activity limited to lounging in his cabin drinking with Mimay in companionable silence, lounging in his chair on the bridge drinking and having Kei wave a clipboard in his face, sitting in the Central Computer room drinking with Tochiro's ghostly chatter in his ears, or strolling down to the ship's gym to work off a bit of frustration and nervous energy, Harlock decided to take the option that made the fewest inroads into a dwindling supply of vintage wines and spirits.

Vintage authentic, he corrected with a mental smirk. Let's hear it for the onboard molecular printers… And hope Hannibal never got to hear about his suspicions that his predecessor had gotten through the stash he'd purloined from the family cellars at least five times over in the hundred years he'd sulked in his cabin. He rounded the corner of the corridor that contained the gym and training area, and was met with a cacophony of catcalls, hoots, whistles and incoherent encouragement from the open doorway, which was filled currently not by a perfectly serviceable door, but the bulky forms of Yasu and unless he missed his guess, the scrawny lanky form of Roderick, the latter normally rather laid back, but currently baying for someone to put their back into it.

So much for some quiet, intense me time… Harlock pushed his way through his crew by means of some carefully planted elbows, and made his way through the group of men - and women, standing around the room watching a brutal smackdown on the mats, as Greg went flying backwards thanks to a perfectly placed blue haymaker. He was helped to his feet by a crewmate, who helped him limp off to where two others were currently slacking shirtless and limp against a vaulting horse, being tended to by Luna.

Martinez, Greg, Sabu… Harlock looked around. Roderick and Yasu were sporting bruises on their faces and scraped knuckles they'd really feel once the adrenaline wore off. Franz was currently stripping off his shirt and grinning at the ladies present, whilst Dessler - Ben - the cynosure of all eyes - waited in the centre of the mat, wearing only a pair of tight shorts and a shit-eating smirk.

Harlock sidled over to Doc. 'How many has he gotten through so far?' he asked dryly.

She peered up at him through her glasses. 'Six so far - had to send Taki over to Med Bay with a broken arm.' She stood up and nodded at the scene, as Ben grinned evilly at Franz and prepared to take on another victim. 'I think they forgot just how good he is… he could take you down on a good day.'

'Stop licking him with your eyeballs, Luna,' he teased her. 'Bad enough I can see Yara and Hallia drooling from here.' He himself took a long, hard look at the Gamilan, as he engaged with Franz. With an extra decade under his belt, he wasn't as boyishly trim as he'd been when he'd been aboard during the Mazone invasion, and he'd broadened alarmingly in the chest and shoulders. He was still fast - Harlock winced as he ducked one of Franz's deadly right crosses and launched a one-two of his own in reply that almost took the other man off his feet. Franz however was no wet behind the ears rookie, and just grinned despite his split lip, and danced out of reach.

Fast… powerful, with a long reach and long legs.

And he was holding back, that much was obvious. He allowed Franz to land one on his square jaw that sent him flying against Hallia, and let the young woman have both barrels of his legendary smile. 'Well hello there, you're new..'

Oozing. That was definitely the word for his charm. 'Where have you been all my life?'

'For the most part, I suspect I wasn't even born,' she replied with such a pitch perfect delivery, Harlock felt like applauding. But she was standing next to Yara, Franz's souvenir from their stay on Ventimiglia a couple of years ago, and Yara and schmoozing charmers tended to equal knives…

'I wouldn't!' Franz called out, stepping in before things got bloodier. 'She's Hannibal's little girl…'

'One of the fabled Pearls of Ventimiglia?' He offered his hand, and to his credit shook it, rather than bowing over it. Harlock had to wonder who'd tipped him off. 'The stories I've heard didn't even begin to do you justice.'

'Funny,' she smiled with that same sunny calm Kei often used before she let the unwary have both barrels. 'I was thinking just the same thing…'

He pulled his hand back with only a slight wince. 'Quite a grip you've got there.'

'Mmm. Imagine what it can do to external organs that don't have skeletal parts inside them,' she said slyly.

He just smiled sweetly and leaned casually against the wall. 'I imagine there isn't a man in the room who isn't physically or mentally protecting his crotch right now.'

'But not you?'

'Darling girl… you'd have to be able to get your hand around it first…'

Hallia just rolled her eyes and sighed. Franz tapped him on the shoulder. 'Ben… can we get back to me pounding you into the tatami before our poor captain has to deal with a sexual harassment complaint?'

'Franz - did you ever know me to get any complaints?' Ben asked him. He pushed himself off the wall, gave a languorous stretch and extended his hand, flexing his fingers towards the palm. 'Come and take your best shot, Franny…'

Predictably, Franz ended up flat on his back groaning. Harlock decided enough was enough and stepped forward, stripping off first his boots, then dropping his jacket and sweater beside them, before stepping onto the mat as Franz was helped to his feet by a grinning Yara.

'Playtime's over, Ben. I think they've warmed you up enough…'

Ben smirked. 'Think you can still take me, captain? I've learned a few tricks since we parted ways…'

Harlock eyed him up and allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch upwards. 'Added a few pounds as well.'

'All muscle.'

'Do your generals tell you that as they let you throw them sound the room?'

'Ten on the captain!' he heard someone call out. Martinez. You had to love loyalty.

'Personally I'd put my money on the blue guy.' Luna, not so much. 'What?' she asked when he looked directly at her and raised his visible eyebrow. 'He's got the height, reach and muscle on you… And those thighs...'

Ben eyed him up from head to toe. 'She has you th…' he never got to finish the sentence. Harlock went straight in with a knee to the balls, a jab to the kidneys when he doubled over, and sat on him for the win when he went down. 'You cheating fu…'

'Pirate rules,' Harlock told him calmly. 'You're on my ship now.' He stared around at the assembled crew, who just stood there somewhat slack jawed, unless they'd been around long enough to know his tricks, in which case they were smirking. 'I think you people have something better to do with your time?' He slapped Ben between the shoulder blades, not being too gentle about it, and waited until the room had mostly cleared before letting him sit up. He held out a hand and helped the Gamilan to his feet. 'Now that we've got that out of the way, I need to work off a bit of steam. You'll do just fine.'

'Do I get a say in that? I've already been pummeled by half the crew…'

'Six isn't half, you were just toying with them, and you aren't sporting that many bruises even on your turquoise hide. Why don't you show me that a decade of soft living, depravity and good food haven't blunted your edge?'

'There are several punch bags in here,' Ben pointed out. Harlock just smirked.

'I only need one.'


It was a good half hour before they called it quits, sweating, out of breath, and grinning like a pair of lunatics.

'I think Luna needs to rethink her bet,' Hallia told Harlock as she handed him his sweater and jacket. His boots he had to pick up for himself.

'What are you still doing here?'

'Just keeping an eye on you, cousin. And I put some clean clothes in the changing area for you, since Kei told me you forgot again...'

'Cousin?' Ben draped a towel around his neck from the nearest bench.

'Complicated. Hallie…'

She pouted slightly. 'What - I don't get to…'

'Follow us into the showers? No. I'd be out of here before Kei finds you if I were you.' He smiled at her as she stood on tiptoe to give him a peck on the cheek.

'Ugh. You're all sweaty…'

'Don't I get a kiss?'

She looked over at Ben and laughed. 'Seriously? I've heard about your wandering hands. He's family. You…' She gave him a visual once over at least three times before letting out a heartfelt sigh. 'Kei was right… he is a walking invitation for sex…'

'I have an open door policy,' he told her, straight-faced. She sighed again, winked at Harlock and walked out, without a backward glance. Ben turned to Harlock. 'Well that's a first…'

'Don't pout. You look dyspeptic,' Harlock told him. He pushed past Ben and headed into the showers. 'She's doing you a favour. Not even you can handle the world of pain messing with that one or her sisters would bring down on your head.' He left his pants on the bench and headed for the shower, leant against the wall with both hands, and let the hot water beat down on his back.

Ben's bare feet slapped against the wet tiles as he joined him at the next showerhead. 'She reminds me a lot of Kei. A lot of sass there. It's refreshing.' He stuck his head under the shower and shook vigorously, his wet, golden hair scattering drops everywhere. 'But why is she here? Are you working some kind of exchange programme with Il Capitano Nero? Or should I say "Khalsa"?'

'She brought some data I needed, and wanted to stay on for a bit, until we made a run back out that way. You know about Nero? Hah. Your intelligence network is far too well informed at times. And we're all puzzling how the hell you do it - it's not as though you - how can I put this? Blend in?'

Ben smirked, and turned round to let the water run down his face and chest. 'You'd be surprised. Look - I don't like what I'm hearing about this metanoid threat. I know they're mostly confined to the Milky Way and have ties with Andromeda… but what they want threatens all of us. I'd have taken more of an interest, but the past couple of years haven't been easy.'

'Hence your agreement with Rafflesia - sorry, Cleo - needing to be put on a more official footing?' Harlock asked him. 'You've taken some big losses recently. I heard about Gamilas and Iscander. I'm sorry.'

'We relocated most of Gamilas' population, but Iscander's refused to leave. Without their sacrifice it would have been a lot worse, but they destroyed that cometary fortress when they blew both planets. If Zworder had found the planets depopulated he'd have strolled right by them and taken that thing right into the heart of our largest cluster of inhabited systems.' Ben leaned against the wall, his forehead pressed against the tiles. 'Not a victory I felt like celebrating.'

Harlock switched off the water and headed for the drying field. 'You were lucky it was Zworder, not Zeda. Zworder's a blustering fool, Zeda on the other hand is a genius on the battlefield. He just serves a fool.' Dry, with his hair fluffed out around his face, he headed for the folded pile of clothes Hallia had left for him, Ben close behind for his own pile. 'You can't tell me though that the metanoids haven't stuck their noses into your neck of the woods.' At Ben's little cough he smiled to himself. 'You're not that subtle, Ben. You can tell me yourself, or wait until I talk to Hannibal's intelligence service.'

They both sat down once pants were back in place, to pull boots on, almost in unison. 'A planet called Telezart's been experiencing some strange phenomena. I've sent people there to investigate, but they've never come back. When Blaze told me about the Sirius and I hacked the files from Destiny, it looked similar enough to warrant me, as you so eloquently put it, sticking my nose in.'

Harlock paused in the act of tugging his sweater over his head. 'You do realise Layla would probably have just given you the damn file if you asked nicely?' he said, his voice muffled briefly by the rollneck before he tugged it into place and settled it neatly into place. He started to roll his sleeves up. 'Sometimes I think you'd get dizzy if you tried walking in a straight line.'

'Fifteen older brothers and a paranoid father taught me a long time ago that being a devious bastard was the only way to stay alive,' Ben replied dryly.

'I hesitate to ask how come you ended up inheriting…'

A shrug. 'I never laid a hand on any of them', he replied softly. 'No word of a lie.' He pulled on his gloves, then handed Harlock the eyepatch that had somehow ended up falling between them. 'Fine. I might have encouraged them to turn on each other, but honestly, it wasn't as though I ever had to do much more than nudge a couple of them in the right direction. Even without my intervention they'd have whittled each other down eventually, or our father would have. Overt ambition was not a survival trait…'

'And the younger brothers?'

'I was one of more than thirty, Harlock,' Ben replied bleakly. 'By the time I reached my majority, I was the youngest.' He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. 'There's a damned good reason I'm still without an heir.'

A slight shudder, barely detectable, went through the ship, and the faint creaking noises in the background, reminiscent of an ancient sailing ship's constant murmurs and flexing, momentarily deepened. 'I rather think we've arrived…'

'Harlock?' Kei's voice came over the speaker on his collar. 'You might want to get up here. We've arrived in system, and there's something very wrong here…'

'When isn't there?' he murmured. Ben on his heels he set off for the bridge at a run.