Trouser Travails - Chapter 4
"Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving."
W. T. Purkiser
Harlock slowly returned to his quarters in the Death Shadow. As he opened the door to the main suite, he looked in cautiously to see whether or not the two pets were still fighting, or if they had settled down. As he peered in he was relieved to see that they were both asleep. Tori-San was on his perch over by the fireplace, and Miiuu was asleep in the middle of his bed up by the pillows. The cat was snoring softly.
Bemused, Harlock breathed a sigh of relief. He quietly, albeit painfully, made his way over to his desk by the library area. He sat in the high backed chair, and pulled a bottle of nice white Merlot out of the bottom drawer of the desk. He uncorked it and poured himself a glass and set it aside to breathe. He templed his hands for a moment, resting his forehead upon them. He had the beginnings of a headache and wanted to get it under control before he became overly grumpy. He practiced his relaxation techniques that Thea had taught him when he was recovering from his injuries two years ago.
While he was doing so, he was also thinking about everything he had to be thankful for. This last mission had gotten him to think; while he had been misused by Earth's leadership far too many times to count, he had many blessings in his life. He had the best friend anyone could have in Tochiro. That brought Emeraldas and Mayu to mind. Who would have ever thought he could actually be a godfather and a decent one at that?
He had many other friends as well, both on and off of the Arcadia. The crew of the Arcadia was the best from both their desire to excel and circumstances that forced it to happen. He made a lopsided smile. Nothing like the difficulty of staying alive to bring people closer together in mutual need, he thought ruefully. They were having many adventures and they only fought the fights they wanted to do. That brought a lot of freedom in itself.
He was holding true to his principles of fighting for what he believed in. It may not be what politicians wanted, but it seemed to work well for the people they helped. He was, he thought honestly and with some amusement, a modern version of the ancient Knight Errant. Might for Right. And that was something deep within his core, fighting for what really mattered. So many things that governments wanted were not things that people actually needed. And he was going to be the one who did what was needed to help.
He remembered with fondness his many conversations with his grandfather, father, Miles Campbell, and Father Anselm while growing into his manhood. He was so thankful to have had these men help form who he was now. One guided his way spiritually, one in the ways of the warrior, and two guided him to be the next Pirate Knight of Arcadia. It wasn't always easy, this path, but when all was said and done, it was a worthwhile thing that he was a part of.
He knew that eventually he would need to pass these blessings on to a child of his own, but he wasn't quite ready for that. After all, one had to have a lady, first! And he needed a lady not impressed with the mythos of who he was or what he did, but merely loved him unconditionally. Maya had been one such. He was willing to await another.
A half hour later, feeling much improved, he took his glass of wine over to the piano. The pets were still asleep, and he knew the piano wouldn't bother them. He decided on a nice calm Brahms piece that he liked to play when he was in this mood. As he got into the music, all other things left his mind and he became one with the music.
It was at times like this that he was glad his mother had insisted that he learn something other than warrior ways. She had wanted him to have some balance in his life. As he thought on her considerable blessing in his life, his hands flew over the ivory keys, caressing them with a light touch. The music rose from his heart, through his hands into the instrument and out into the quiet air about him.
As Harlock played, those who were nearby heard the sounds of the piano, stopped what they were doing to listen in. It was hard for them to reconcile the fact that the most feared and deadly pirate in space had a light and good touch on such a soulful instrument. They grew bemused but thankful for the peace they knew it brought their leader. As the music played, each of them went to their own quiet place in their minds. It was a very peaceful moment, seldom noted. A few hummed, or just sat to listen, backs to the hallway walls, dreaming of more peaceful, beautiful times.
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Miss Masu was arguing with the auto-chef. It was stubbornly insisting on chopped onions and she wanted slices for the recipe. Waving her knives about, she threatened the mechanical device in no uncertain terms. Being a machine, it remained impassive, patiently advising her to use the onions already diced.
She called up to Harlock to complain about the state of the auto-chef, but when she heard the piano playing over the com, she started to hum and relaxed. She'd make do and instead of a stir fry, she'd do a savory bread dressing with the chopped onions and some celery, baked turkey, mashed potatoes and perhaps some green beans... She called over to the farm hands to request the new items. Having a working farm aboard the Arcadia was extremely helpful when one had to plan and prepare meals for so many!
Once she completed the different preparations, she started to cook the meal and the savory smells of a full turkey feast began to waft out of the kitchen and out to where others could smell it. It smelled like home. Between the calming music, the homey smells and the rest of comparative safety, everyone started to relax.
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That night, the crew of the Arcadia ate their evening meal all together. Rarely was this possible as someone always needed to be on duty to stand watch, or to do things that the Arcadia needed for regular maintenance.
Generally, everyone ate in shifts and frequently, Harlock ate alone in his suite as he usually had paperwork to do. This used to bother him, that he still had paperwork to do when he should be able to do whatever he wanted. One would think that once out of the military, paperwork would no longer be required, however, in order for the Arcadia to run smoothly there were things that needed to be communicated to him, or that he needed to communicate to the various departments or crew members. So, ubiquitous as ever, he plowed through the needed documents needed in running a complex space vessel and the ever increasing organization that had grown up around it. Thankfully, much was automated and computer driven, but there were things that only a human could really do.
He also wrote a daily log which he would pen by hand. He could have recorded one, or put it on the CompPad, but he wanted to do it the old fashioned way. It helped him to compose his thoughts and soothe his spirit. Besides, keeping a log was a Captain's sacred duty, no matter what type of ship he piloted. Doing the log in the traditional manner was his choice.
As a result, eating together at Christmas and several other celebrated holidays were the only times the whole crew and the farm personnel aboard the Arcadia and the Death Shadow managed to be together. As such, this usually made it into a very festive occasion. That evening, the food was good, the company complete and all were relaxed.
A few noted that their Captain was down to wearing sick bay scrubs that were too short for his long legs, but other than a few amused expressions, everyone else rather pointedly ignored the fact that their Captain was rather dressed down. A few felt that it was good for him to be less formal every once in a while, others were just glad that he was relaxed enough to enjoy the evening with them.
Harley was certainly more relaxed - he knew where Harlock was and that he was safe amongst them again. He was glad that he had followed Harlock despite being told not to do so. If he had not... well, it was doubtful Harlock would still have been with them. He was mortal, despite his actions stating that he didn't believe this in his own heart. Harlock knew he was a man, but there were times that he went headlong into situations as if he believed he wore magic armor, Harley thought with sour amusement.
And since Harlock required magical armor, his best friend did his best to provide what was needed. Tochiro was an excellent inventor, and Harlock's headstrong personality; frequently dangerous circumstances and missions certainly kept the little engineer more busy than perhaps even he would like. Hence the recent armor upgrades in the Arcadia, the Space Wolves and the planned changes in body armor.
The crew all noted the bulky bandages around Harlock's chest and the new one around his thigh. They were grateful it hadn't been worse for him in this last mission, but some who hadn't heard about the cat and bird fight, wondered at the new wound. Many privately thought that perhaps they should have a ship's meeting and force him to agree to not risk himself. However, none brought the idea forward, knowing that they'd have to face his Gravity Saber in a duel were they to try to limit him. Harlock needed to learn his own limits and at his current age, they thought, it did not seem likely that he wished to do so.
Harlock and Tochiro were laughing at their table, waving arms to make their points, and raising their wine glasses in good cheer. They were both also slipping meaty portions of their meals to the cat, who begged below the table, and fruit and vegetable pieces to the bird, who was perched on the back of Harlock's chair.
Miss Masu didn't approve of table feeding pets, but could not change the behavior of the two men, no matter how much she threatened them. As a result, they just got sneakier about slipping the pets their treats. It was as if the two men were mere boys again, ignoring the demands of their nanny. Miss Masu took it in stride, but that didn't stop her from trying to correct them, either. It was a game that all enjoyed, those who were a part of it and those who watched.
Good food, fine wine, good company and laughter punctuated the impromptu celebration. It was a noisy prayer of thankfulness for deliverance and for beating the odds against all of them.
It was a good evening.
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Later, Harlock went to go to bed. He was quite exhausted and slightly inebriated. He was still injured from the last mission, and trying to ignore his wounds and the bandages. He was limping somewhat from the thigh wound and the fact that he wasn't entirely steady on his feet wasn't helping the pain he felt in his chest. He went to the bathroom, shedding clothing and old bandages as he went. He showered, took care of the rest of his evening ablutions, cleaned his glass eye and put it in its saline filled jar by his bed, reapplied the bandages across his chest, leg and thigh, and fell headlong into his bed. He barely got the covers up over most of himself before he fell asleep.
Both Doc Zero and Thea Mallory came in a few minutes later to see if he needed any help. They noted their sleeping Captain, the fact that most of the bandages were where they belonged, and the obvious dark circles under his eyes stating that he desperately needed rest. Thea pulled out a hypo syringe and while Doc Zero lifted the covers, she injected the sleeping pirate in his back hip. He didn't even budge. She redialed the syringe and gave him another shot in the opposite side after they turned him. Then, they checked his wounds, rewrapped him and tucked him in more thoroughly.
They patiently cleaned up the strewn clothes and old bandages and generally put things to rights within his quarters. Thea returned his now clean but worn jeans and picked up the scrub pants for cleaning. Once everything was completed to their mutual satisfaction, they stared at him for a moment or two as he slept. Doc Zero looked again at what they had dosed him with and nodded to Thea. There, they thought, that ought to keep him in bed a while...
An hour later, a small furry ginger cat cleverly opened the door to Harlock's suite, padded softly to the bed, hopped up and circled three times to snuggle up next to the most fearsome warrior of known space. The cat softly snored nestled next to Harlock's back, but Harlock was too far gone to hear the snoring cat.
He had turned onto his right side, messy auburn-tinged brown hair draped mostly across his face. Harlock had been covered by the blankets, but his left leg and shoulder were now exposed from Miiuu making his own nest at Harlock's back. It didn't seem to bother either man or cat. Harlock's face was very relaxed and at that moment it was easy to see that he was still a handsome young man, despite his scars. He looked innocent in sleep, which would have surprised anyone who did not truly know him.
The bird walked in muttering, "Sleep, Perch, Sleep," and flapped up to the back of the chair near the bed. He tucked his head under his left wing and was soon fast asleep as well. He had brought a string of sausages with him, which would have irritated Miss Masu had she known of it. They were conveniently draped across the back of the chair for the Bird's morning keep-away game with the cat.
Mimee stopped by soon after the bird to check on Harlock. She sat in the chair next to the bed, finished off his glass of wine from earlier and played her harp to the sleeping man. When she finished, she got up and checked his shoulder and leg; noting them to be cool, she then picked up the cat and cuddled him close to her heart, pulled the covers more firmly over Harlock, then replaced the warm cat at his back. The cat stretched a bit and then curled back up into a small ball of fur, tail over his nose and a paw over his eyes. Miuu was like a little heater, she thought with amusement. She took the sausages off of the back of the chair and put them in the suite refrigerator.
Then she left, going to her own quarters to rest. As she walked and held her harp close to her body, she thought about how different her life was, now that she was with Harlock. She owed him her life and looking after him - as much as he would permit - was a small price to pay for his friendship. If she had had a mouth, she would have been smiling.
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Tochiro turned in after a long conversation with his wife and they talked about her problems with finding the substance needed for yet one more of his inventions. Then, talk grew more of the two of them and their young daughter, Mayu. Emeraldas also had another piece of news for him that astounded him and made him dance with joy at the same time. They were to have another child! When he went to bed that night, he had a grin on his face that stretched from ear to ear, even in sleep.
Were one to look in on Emeraldas, they would have seen her sleeping with an arm curled over her stomach with a matching gentle smile, as the AI of the Queen Emeraldas looked on protectively. The AI had been given a stern talking to by Maetel and did its best to keep watch on the young woman. It worried a bit as Emeraldas was as prone to getting into trouble as the Captain of the Arcadia was constantly doing.
If it had had a head, it would have shaken it in rueful contemplation. It did take that time to update its makers. A beam leapt across space and time to a group of beings who watched over everything and had taken an especial interest in Emeraldas, Harlock, Tochiro and their adventures. They had intervened once before in their lives and the AI wondered mechanically when they would do so again. It found that it cared for the bright-haired young woman and desired to keep her as safe as was possible.
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Elsewhere on the station the crew of the Arcadia were also doing the same as their Captain, some later than others. It was very quiet aboard the station and this was a rare state for this group of adventurous wanderers. They were happy to enjoy such a rest, a night few and far between.
Which was a good thing, for events were soon to test them all most sorely. Trouser procurement for Pirate Captains was not as easy to do as one might imagine.