Planet MX201
About two standard weeks ago…
MX-201, known to its handful of remaining inhabitants as Heavy Meldar was a dusty moon orbiting a gas giant near the very edge of the galaxy. Before the homecoming war, despite its failed terraforming, it had been a thriving port on the way to the fledgling colonies in the Andromeda Galaxy. Now the dusty tumbleweed outnumbered the inhabitants of the town of Gun Frontier that lay at the base of a tall plateau bearing the same name. A few tumbledown houses and empty storefronts lined the only street, but the only business still open was the bar, which currently housed the town's handful of inhabitants. These currently numbering a barkeep, a couple of down at heel old prospectors, a pair of depressed ex soldiers and an old man in a dust coloured hat who sat on his own in a corner, all but the last of them discussing the broadcast from Mars (still…) as the capture and attempted execution of the notorious pirate Harlock played out (again - did they have nothing better to talk about?), shortly followed by Harlock's infamous message showing the devastated Earth. That had all taken place several days ago, and now the footage (via the non-Gaia Sanction controlled outer territories warp newsfeed) was interspersed with sarcastic commentary on the frantic scrambling for damage limitation by the Gaia Sanction, who'd quite obviously been caught totally flat-footed.
At the next table to the old man, the two ex squaddies grumbled into their cheap whiskey about having had a narrow escape, having been rejected in favour of the young man briefly pictured beside the young admiral; the undercover agent who'd made it possible, who to the old man's eyes had looked more dyspeptic than happy when his deeds were being extolled by one of the council as a newsreader from Destiny pointed out the Council's dramatic U-turn with barely concealed satisfaction.
'Sat at that bar for weeks staring into his coffee like his world was ending,' the barkeep opined to anyone who'd listen. 'Who knew?'
'Low down dirty trick,' one of the old timers said sourly. 'Figures it was the only way you could bring down a legend like Harlock…'
'Funny how they never say exactly why they had such a big price on his head,' the old man in the hat muttered, loudly enough to be overheard by the bandanna wearing squaddie.
'He's a pirate,' the big man declaimed, waving his glass around to punctuate his words. 'Sheesh… maybe ya need ta cut back on the sauce there, old-timer?' He and his large, bald buddy laughed and reached for a refill.
'He's still a hot headed idiot who doesn't think through the consequences,' the old man murmured, this time into his drink. He drained the glass, stood up stiffly, threw a couple of coins onto the table, tugged his dust covered, floppy hat over his face and left the bar.
Once on the barren street he stared down its length at the plateau that dominated the skyline, where only a few short weeks ago, the Arcadia had squatted, wreathed in black mists, her once sleek lines twisted and tortured into a thing that looked as though it had been spat out from the depths of hell… He still wished he could unsee it.
He'd planned to be long gone from this system. Had toyed with heading back to the Solar System, though why, he couldn't say now. Moral support? Curiosity? A need to atone for his own deeds (or lack thereof) that had led to all of this? Farah would have given him a longwinded opinion had he asked, but then, that was what his XO did, generally.
Yet in the end, he'd had to keep watch on the events unfolding in the Solar System from Heavy Meldar. And not, as Farah had opined sarcastically (as if he knew any other way…) because there was no guarantee his trigger-happy baby brother wouldn't just blow the Miranda out of the sky if he saw her coming, but because barely hours after he'd manoeuvred said baby brother into taking young Yama on board (his final hail Mary and the jury was still out on how that would pan out…) events on Lar Metal had, as Farah succinctly put it, gone to shit.
So he made his way back to the ship via one of her small remaining fleet of fighters, tucked away about a mile out of town behind a rickety old barn, to be met by Farah on the hanger before his arse had even left the cockpit seat.
'Chief.' Farah waited at least until his boots clanged on the hangar deck before addressing him.
'Not more bad news from Mars, I hope?'
'Rather depends on your definition. Apparently they're now a bit of the Moon missing - the Council authorised the use of the Jovian blaster…'
Hannibal swore. 'I thought I'd taken that thing out permanently…'
'I dug into the Council records for you - seems someone was able to supply replacement parts on the quiet several years ago. Just how many of these things were floating around out there?'
'One would have been too many,' Hannibal replied darkly. 'I apparently missed at least one. Is Earth… the Arcadia…?'
'Both safe. The Arcadia took time out to blow the transfer satellite on its way out of the system. By the way - the tracking system's still operative - they've only just disengaged with the fleet - gave the remnants a bloody nose on the way somewhere near Jupiter. Hoshino's taken charge of the remnant - he's taken the Mephisto and is busy following the signal you so very kindly left his Admiral with.'
'Not one of my smarter moves in hindsight. Might be an idea to just let Harlock know about that beacon…' he frowned as Farah's comment registered. 'Wait - Hoshino's in charge? What happened to Isora?'
'I've got my team digging into the transmissions from Mars, but as you might expect, there's a lot of it to wade through. Harlock certainly knows how to leave chaos in his wake. They took out over half the fleet in getting into the System, I think they might well have done the same the the rest on their way out. But from the chatter we're picking up so far, it appears the Oceanos was destroyed when they unleashed the Jovian Blaster.'
'Well you're still clutching that print out, so what else do I need to worry about?'
'You remember that message from Selen just before we'd planned to head off after the Arcadia?'
'Hard to forget,' Hannibal said dryly. 'It's why I decided we needed to hang around in the outer systems a bit longer.' And why his second-best pair of agents had taken off for the Andromedan rim of the galaxy… He hadn't wanted to get into too much detail with his nervy second. Harlock's actual plan was something he'd long kept to himself., although given what Yayoi seemed to be up to her delicate little ears in, he was starting to think his brother had a point about humanity… 'I take it we've had no further word from Selen and Rei?'
'Not so much from…' Farah said slowly. 'More "about"...'
Hannibal held out his hand for the flimsy. 'Give.' Farah handed the report over reluctantly, and waited, a crinkle forming on his normally smooth forehead as he waited.
Hannibal read down the printout, a frown forming on his face as his eyes moved down and across. When he reached the end he crumpled it into a ball in his fist. 'This is two weeks old. Has there been any word from them since this warrant for their capture was sent out?'
Farah shook his head. 'Nothing. At the moment I'm just hoping they escaped. But the news from Lar Metal…'
'I'm more worried about the boys,' Hannibal told him softly. 'I made the decision to wait here for an update, but they're seriously overdue. Whatever's gone down over on the Andromedan rim of the galaxy might be far more problematic than just Lar Metal's internal politics...' He sighed, and rubbed his temple above his right eye, where the start of a nasty headache was making itself known. 'Dammit… I can't be in two places at once… Marin and Blaze took half a dozen ships out to check up on those calls for help, and not one of them has reported in. It's a numbers call, and I hate those. Have our people on Carmilla on standby in case Selen or Rei call in for help.'
'Already done,' Farah told him smoothly, earning himself a mild glare. 'It's what you pay me for,' he said smugly. 'But if you really want to micromanage…'
'I don't pay you to be a smartarse,' Hannibal replied somewhat tartly. 'The backup fleet?'
'En route.' Farah fell in step with his commander as Hannibal began striding towards the bridge. 'Five of the Blackstar class, to rendezvous six hours from now.'
Hannibal nodded. 'Hopefully that will be enough. I just hope the lads aren't in too much trouble…'
The Andromedan Rim…
'Remind me again,' Marin yelled over the clamour of the bridge alarm, 'how the hell we ended up in this mess?'
Blaze - busy wrestling with one of the fire suppressant canisters in a vain attempt to save what was left of their comms system, didn't have the breath to snap back a pithy retort, even if he could have thought of one. By the time the fire was out, and he could rest the now empty canister on the floor by means of just dropping it to land with a dull clunk, his head was dropping, his arms felt like wet spaghetti, and sweat was dripping into his eyes. 'Genetics,' he replied wearily, leaning on the console before pulling away from the still hot metal with a yelp. 'Or so mom keeps saying…' He heaved a sigh of relief as the alarm stooped, and then glanced up at the bridge viewscreen. 'We punched a hole right through the bridge for fucks sake,' he half-snarled. 'How the hell is it still firing at us?'
'At least it's missing,' Marin replied calmly. 'Be thankful for small mercies and the warping effect of energy weapons. We can't get a lock on, but neither can they…'
'Before the sensor arrays were fried we did have some readings back.' Ishikura - a young man with light sandy hair stabbed with futility at his console, which to Blaze's eye didn't look to be in much of a better state than the scorched remains of the communications station. 'There were no life readings on board at all, even before we engaged.'
'But no-one operates battleships on remote…' Blaze pushed his damp hair back from his face and glared at the screen. 'There would have to be one hell of a comms signal for that - even for one ship, let alone thirteen. And the telemetry would be a bitch…' He sighed. 'They took out the other six ships in that first attack - we never saw them coming, and they're almost as fast as the Miranda…'
'They don't seem to care about the damage they take either,' his brother pointed out. Marin sat back wearily in the command chair. 'We did at least take down most of them, it's just this one that's led us a merry chase through two systems - how the hell are they doing that? We should have taken them by now…'
Blaze stared hard at the ship on their main screen, and folded his arms across his chest. 'It looks vaguely like something from our fleet, but that thing out there isn't any class I've seen, and we're way outside Geran's jurisdiction here…'
'But not that far from one of the staging posts for the Andromeda colonies,' Ishikura told him. 'My father's on one of the supply runs - there are posts strung out all the way to Andromeda.'
Blaze hadn't taken his eyes off the screen, but he nodded. 'And there's one not far from that first SOS… You know, aniki, it's just sitting there and I've no idea if it's dead in the water or waiting for us to make a move…'
Ishikura shivered. 'I wish you wouldn't say it like that, it makes it sound as though it's… well… alive…'
'Maybe not alive as such, Marin mused. 'But a sophisticated AI isn't that improbable - I mean the Miranda's is state of the art…'
'And according to the Old Man, one of a kind. This damn thing's well over three kilometres long…' Blaze shivered as a cold presentiment trickled down his spine. Although it could have just been sweat. 'Even the Gaia Fleet's battleships aren't that big. Even those can't get an AI to control everything. And this out classes and outguns anything we can field. And now it's just sitting there. It has to know we're practically helpless…' He tapped one of the crewmen on the shoulder. 'Rai - internal comms are down so I need a relay of willing and able bodies. One to Engineering, find out where we are on getting the engines back on line, and an ETA on the guns. And maybe bring back a couple of large spanners…'
'I'm almost afraid to ask', his brother muttered. Blaze just smirked, his reflection all Marin could see.
'Simple - if we can't get the comms online we'll need them to beat out messages in code on the hull…'
'He jokes…' Rai, a short guy in his late twenties muttered, 'but the way our luck's going we'll be stringing up cans from the mess between sections, and be sending guys out to snag some floating rocks to chuck at that sip in lieu of our weapons…' He hauled himself out of his seat, not bothering to hide a wince. 'Man, I hope whatever's lurking over there feels worse than we do…' He glared at the screen. 'What the hell are they waiting for?'
'Maybe they're in the market for rocks as well?' Marin replied. He pushed his hair - darker than his brother's chestnut locks - off his face. 'They must be able to see us, surely?'
'Unless the dead zone we're in that trashed our sensors and comms is somehow blocking theirs?' Ishikura suggested. 'Whilst we're powered down so low, maybe they're just waiting for us to move?' He looked from one of the brothers to the other. 'Are we just going to sit here though and try to outwait them? Do either of you have a plan?'
'Kind of…' Blaze told him absently. 'It comes down to one of Hannibal's old sayings - that when you can't see your way out of a situation, sometimes the best thing you can do is sit and wait for something to change. Or for the other side to flinch…'
'We can't wait too long,' Marin said softly. 'With the engines down…'
'I know.' Blaze walked over to his brother's side and took up the first officer's station. The two often swapped roles commanding the Blackstar 7 , but for now Blaze was more than content to play second fiddle. 'We're leaking air, life support's on emergency backup and they holed the water supply on that last attack. Our best hope is one of the other ships got a distress call out before they bought it.'
'But anyone coming to rescue us could be flying into a trap…'
'Then we'd better hope it's the Old Man himself,' Blaze replied. 'Or this time our goose is well and truly cooked.' He sighed as he leaned back in the chair, stretched out his long legs and crossed his ankles. 'Ever wished we'd just stayed home and volunteered to help dad out with looking into those transport ships?'
'For the last four days straight,' Marin replied dryly. 'Whatever he and mom have gotten themselves into, there's no way it's as bad as this…'
During a deep immersion in IN-Space there was no real need to keep a full watch on the bridge at all times. Hannibal liked to clear the bridge for a few minutes every so often, and have it all to himself, with only the ship's AI for company. Some of his crew thought his affection for, and the way he spoke to the ship, a little unsettling if not slightly insane, but he'd been there when it had been installed, and the computer and he had been through a lot together.
Too much? The ship's computer had a woman's voice: warm, welcoming, with a slight accent. Miranda's voice; When he'd needed to change the Deathshadow Zero's ID, it had seemed fitting he choose the voice print his wife had recorded for that long ago project…
'Sometimes feels that way, old girl, doesn't it.' He patted the nearest bulkhead. 'Are you reading my mind?'
Technically, Admiral, your memories also make up a large part of my base personality matrix…
'Along with a sneaky Fleet admiral, a certain hot-headed commodore and his brilliant engineer, both my wives and at least two nibelung,' Hannibal pointed out. 'I'm amazed some days you're sane…'
It was just a template, the ship said, sounding a little defensive. My personality is entirely my own now…
'I know, old girl. But even after all this time you still amaze me. I'm not sure any of us really understood what it was we were creating back then.' Like a lot of things, he thought ruefully. And some of them just seemed to keep coming back to haunt him… He pushed that thought away firmly, along with thoughts of what the hell he might have set in motion on board Arcadia… 'I'm worried about everyone we sent out there. It's not like Blaze or Marin to not be in touch, but they were on one ship out of seven. Even if something happened to the Blackstars and the boys, we should have heard something by now…'
Boys? They're twenty five and twenty four now… The ship's voice laughed softly.
'Time flies…' Hannibal murmured. 'It feels like only yesterday I was holding young Karyu in my arms after he was born…' He smiled at the memory. 'Feisty little sod even then. Reminded me a little of Albrecht…' he fell silent, remembering. He'd been about twelve, when his stepmother had allowed him to hold his baby brother for the first time, and he'd looked for the first time into dark eyes which stared right back into his, and the baby had burped loudly and promptly peed all down his new shirt. I should have taken the hint… he thought.
The ship's AI made a sound that passed for clearing its electronic throat. Admiral… there's a signal I'm intercepting from the Mephisto to Mars. It mentions the Arcadia…
'Put it through,' he told the ship. When the ship didn't immediately comply he frowned. 'What is it?'
I think… you might want to take a seat first. Or take this in your quarters…
'Whatever it is, I'll deal with it.' But he did take his seat in the captain's chair.
The signal was weak and choppy, given both the distance and the fact the Miranda was hacking into what should have been an ultra secure communication channel. He recognised the tall, dark haired man with commodore's bars on his collar: Gõzõ Hoshino… one of Isora's cronies from the Academy, if he remembered correctly. He smirked. Just the sort of martinet that Albrecht had loved to put the wind up, during his time in the main fleet…
'... we lost the signal several days ago. They must have found it and cut the power. But I'll find them again once we're fully repaired.'
The pony-tailed slug on the other end of the warp feed leaned more closely into his camera. 'Are you sure about that? He's already eluded the remains of the fleet once and left you immobilised…'
'He got lucky. It won't happen again. Besides, it's not Harlock we're dealing with, just a whining, treacherous turncoat with no real combat experience. I'm sending over the recording…'
Hannibal gripped the arms of the captain's chair hard and leaned forward, staring at the image. Hoshino's smug features were replaced by a fuzzy picture that slowly sharpened into an image of what looked like a darker, twisted version of the Deathshadow vessels' command bridge. Three figures were in the foreground. Hannibal recognised the Arcadia's rotund first mate from his reward poster, belligerent and bespectacled to one side, and a young blonde woman who resembled Maya so much his breath caught in his throat as he watched her move to stand beside the figure who stood between them at the helm, hands resting lightly on the balusters, sleeves rolled up halfway up his arms.
Not Albrecht.
Yama. Although the youth sported a healed, jagged blaster burn across his left cheek, and a leather patch covered his right eye.
He also looked as though he was desperately trying not to use the ship's wheel in front of him to keep himself upright.
Hoshino, off screen, was bellowing. 'Harlock! You coward. Hiding behind holograms with unworthy tactics!'
'Coward? I'm sorry you feel that way, Gõzõ. Would you like to send for a few more ships to even the odds?' I'd hate for you to feel outnumbered...' He moved to stand in front of the wheel, moving, to Hannibal's eyes, very stiffly. He sounded so innocent, and looked relaxed as he folded his arms. There were sniggers from all points on the bridge.
'You? You pissant little prick! Where's Harlock?'
Good question… Hannibal murmured. He paused and enhanced the image until he could see the background. There… the captain's chair - if he could call it that - looking as though it had been made out of bones and skulls, but with plush red upholstery. He snorted mentally at that. That wasn't part of the ship's original spec… Still, Albrecht had always been a bit of a drama queen… And on it, draped over one arm, a large black cloak with his brother's Cosmo Dragoon and gravity sabre propped up on it…
No…
The large, bespectacled man Hannibal had recognised from reports as the first mate stepped forwards, giving the Fleet captain his best stinkeye; 'You're looking at him. We're under new management.' He gave Yama a slap on the shoulder as he stood beside him that almost floored the smaller man.
Please no…
What have I done? Yama… what have you done…?
Hoshino's thin lip curled into a sneer. 'Him? He shouldn't be put in charge of a garbage hauler. Where's your brother? What did you do to the Admiral? And where's the real Harlock? Putting on an eyepatch doesn't make you a pirate captain, lieutenant. if I'd known I was dealing with some pubescent little twerp...'
'Oh, now, is that any way to speak to the man who has a dozen oscillator cannon pointed at you, Captain? Isora didn't make it, he's dead, and not by my hand. This is the only warning I will give you, Hoshino. Keep the fleet out of my space. Next time I won't be so generous.'
Hannibal sat back heavily in his chair and closed his eyes. 'Record and shut it down,' he told his ship.
Admiral… the ship's whispered sympathy was another painful reminder he could do without right now. 'Not now. Please.'
In the silence of the bridge, broken only by the background hum of the ship's engines and other systems at work, he stared without seeing at the viewscreen, currently only displaying the fractal patterns of IN space. Albrecht… 'I was supposed to be the one who died first, wasn't I, little brother?' he whispered. 'No cursed undying body for me… just a worn out relic kept alive long past his time by exposure to the same energies that saved - and damned - you…'
'You must have known when you put the kid in Harlock's path that something like this would play out.'
Farah, who'd presumably snook onto the bridge when he'd been distracted.
'How long were you listening?'
'Long enough. I was also digging into the Gaia Sanction records whilst you were slumming down on that dump - you could have watched the broadcasts from here in comfort so what was that? Penance? Because you'll never convince me it was the quality of the whiskey.'
'Complicated,' he grunted. 'Farah…'
'Took me a while to dig through the warp feeds and break the encryption on the solar system feed, but it helped that someone had already compromised the system before I got into it. Remind me to find whoever it was and thank them… Anyway, it seems they were using the dark matter scrubbers from the old Titan dock, to hold the Arcadia. You know what those will do to a ship like the Arcadia - or this one. Worse for the Arcadia because if your figures are right, the dark matter is really all that holds her together. And the same's probably true for Harlock. He must have been almost drained of dark matter - that's how Isora planned to kill him. It's all in the files I hacked. There's footage from his cell…'
He couldn't face watching that. Not yet. 'Later.' He called back the recording of the confrontation, and freeze-framed that image of the empty chair behind Yama. The cloak… It looked as though its owner had left it there having just stepped up and away from it when he'd been wearing it. He moved the image back to concentrate on Yama's face. The last few weeks had scoured something from the youth he'd met and watched over on Heavy Meldar for so many long weeks. That young man had been lost in despair and self-loathing, uncaring of his life anymore. Now… allowing for the fact that he looked as though he'd not slept in nearly a week and was held together by bloody mindedness and caffeine, there was a resolution in that young, scarred face that hadn't been there before.
'He looks a lot like you,' Farah said quietly. 'I hadn't noticed before. Something in the eyes…' He laughed at himself. 'Eye.' He tapped Hannibal on the shoulder. 'Something happened down there… The records show he took a fighter down to Earth's surface. When he came back, he blew the scrubbers and broke the crew out of the brig single-handedly. Then he and that lovely lass there took off and led the crew to take back the ship and break out Harlock and the nibelung. And the footage from the cams on board the Oceanos after she slammed into the Arcadia just has to be seen to be believed… The lad's a one man wrecking crew.' When Hannibal didn't respond he continued: 'If it helps… the bridge recordings the ship transmitted back to Mars Command show he and Harlock were on good terms. I don't think the lad killed him, if you were worried about putting two dogs in the same pit…'
Mentally, Hannibal snorted. The kid had potential, but Harlock - even on a bad day - could have knocked the lad into the middle of next week without breaking a sweat. His brother was a hot-headed arse, not stupid. No. He'd never worried about that… Out loud he simply said: 'Something happened? He found life, Farah… and hope. It changes things.' Hannibal replied, his voice rough with emotion. 'But I can't deal with Yama right now - with the beacon gone, we can't track the Arcadia.' He sat back in his seat and pushed his hair back out of his face. 'The Blackstars should be with us within the hour, unless…'
'On course and on time,' Farah assured him.
'Then one problem at a time,' Hannibal told him. 'If our team on Lar Metal can't locate Selen and Rei we have to hope they escaped and got offworld. We won't wait for the Blackstars - they can follow our signal to the Blackstar 7's last known location. The Miranda can make much better time on her own.'
'You mean when we don't have to fake being a normal ship?' Farah asked archly. Hannibal's only reply was a shrug. He sighed. 'I really do not like that engine, you know that, right?'
'Can't forget it,' Hannibal replied dryly. 'You never stop bleating about it. Which for one of the few scientists who has any background in dark matter physics…'
'...should not surprise you, because I know what that stuff can do.' Farah took his own seat beside his captain and called up the ship's internal comms. 'All hands - report back to the bridge for immediate IN-SKIP. The dark matter engine will be engaged in five minutes. Miranda - all ahead full. Begin spinning up the dark matter engine and prepare for a deep jump on my mark.'
As you command.
Unlike the Arcadia, the former Deathshadow Zero's dark matter engine did not reside on the bridge, but in a room adjacent to her main drive. To call it an engine was perhaps incorrect - the glowing ball - resembling a ten foot diameter van der graf generator lit up from within with blue lightning - was in fact a nibelung power source, designed to boost the energy of the main gravium drive. But once online, as now, the blue lightning spread through the ship, outlining everything like the age-old St Elmo's Fire that had once enchanted mariners on Earth… It gathered especially around the central computer core which housed the ship's AI… and on the bridge, whilst leaping from console to console and crewmember to crewmember, seemed also drawn to the seated figure of the ship's captain: Former Konteadmiral Mamoru Okita. Brother to the worst mass murderer in human history. Founder of the Millennial Thieves. An old man who often thought these days he'd long exceeded his expiry date.
Pick any of the above…
Hannibal left his seat and walked slowly to take his place at the ship's wheel - more for the sake of form than anything else. Blue lightning trailed in his wake and pooled around his hands as they gripped the wheel firmly. 'Miranda-go - hasshin!'
The ship shuddered slightly from stem to stern, the only sign to those inside - apart from the sudden loss of stars in the viewscreen - that anything had changed as they leapt into IN space.
Outside, an observer would have seen the ship outlined in blue fire, the space between her gracefully curving horns - resembling those of a massive stag beetle - flashing with the unheard crackle of otherworldly lightning. And then she was gone.
For a few seconds, tiny blue fireflies flickered in the darkness of the void where she had been, and then they too were swallowed by the eternal night.
