Chapter Text
The Illumidas. They’d struck again.
They’d been detected dutifully by Kei, on radar- a fleet of them, encircling a nearby planet they’d just passed by the orbit of. It wasn’t long after they’d been picked up that a distress beacon came through.
“That is Faeriond,” La Miime recalled, looking worried. “They’re healers, and specialize in herbal medicine. They don’t possess very high-level technology. They’ll be in danger.”
Harlock, at his post, had nodded immediately. “Then we’ll help them,” Harlock answered immediately, feeling again the sting of rage he always felt when the Illumidas were up to their schemes. This small fleet had likely hoped to corner these people unnoticed, far from the most high tech planets, in a part of the Cat’s Eye Nebula that didn’t see much traffic. Faeriond, while Harlock knew admittedly little about, was an undiscovered haven of sorts- an oasis for the ailing and injured. Clearly, however, the Illumidas wanted to take advantage of that.
“Those cowards,” Tadashi cursed as he rushed to his position, ready and willing as always. “They always do this.”
Harlock remained silent; but inwardly agreed with the boy’s grievances. It wouldn’t happen for long- and at the very least, for now, they could take down this fleet and prevent more useless bloodshed.
“Take us to Faeriond, then,” Tochiro have a thumbs up and a grin to Harlock. Kei and La Miime were calibrating the engines already, and Harlock gripped the helm in his hands just a little tighter. He exchanged a warm smile with Tochiro as the engines flared to life.
•••
Faeriond, they found, upon breaching the atmosphere, was beautiful. It was flush with plants and wildflowers as far as one could see, some boasting a much larger size than any specimen found on earth. It was mesmerizing, to say the least.
And it was burning.
They had found the site where the Illumidas had launched their attack. What appeared to be a small village, which an untrained and ignorant eye would brush off as a primitive, with its structures of sticks and vines and dried grasses. But it possessed an intricacy and patience that showed their skill.
Smoke was rising from a far-off flower field, sending burning petals and embers into the air. It seemed that one of the Illumidas ships had spun out of control and crashed, and was now sending massive plumes of angry smoke into the air. As they approached, the other two Illumidas vessels were visible, mostly unharmed as they had landed. Planetside, so far down, commotion could be made out in the village they’d first seen.
“Can you get a better image?” Harlock asked Tochiro, who nodded and pulled up a closer picture of the clearing. A shared sense of fury and horror struck through the crew-the Illumidas had begun to round up the Faeriond. Some had been tied up and left in groups, circled by Illumidas soldiers with weapons drawn, threatening them if they attempted escape. A few of them, on the far side of the clearing, still tussled with the soldiers- clearly having managed to wrench their guns away.
Kei and La Miime knew already what Harlock was to ask of them. He need only give them a glance. The Arcadia’s engines went into overdrive, approaching at a rapid speed.
“Shall we shoot, captain?” Tadashi asked furiously.
“No- we can’t risk that,” Harlock responded. “There’s already one ship burning- we can’t risk any more explosions or fire, not so close to the village. Everything here is flammable. We’ll have to put out the fire and fight them on foot.”
Tadashi seemed crestfallen at first, then realized the sense behinds his words. “Right,” he replied.
Harlock, Tochiro, Kei, Tadashi and a few other crew members who’d eagerly volunteered were to be dropped planetside to engage the Illumidas. La Miime had been tasked with emptying the Arcadia’s water tanks over the blaze to extinguish it before it traveled further.
As they fought through the untamed tangles of plants that surrounded the village, they could hear the sounds of battle and gunfire as they grew louder. Harlock’s stomach clenched with apprehension for the most recent victims of the Illumidas’ violence. The group increased their pace until they were running along, ignoring the brushing plants that scraped them.
When Harlock made it into the open, the Illumidas were waiting for them- but they were ready. They had obviously spotted the Arcadia, and must know their fate.
Harlock had to swiftly dodge from a rain of gunfire, shouting an order for the group to scatter and emerge at other areas. Wielding his gravity saber, he shot with deadly precision at the soldier that had opened fire first. But the others had clearly thought better of fighting- they had not at all been prepared for armed resistance, much less the ferocious Harlock and Arcadia- likely thinking they’d found an easy and fruitful target for today. They turned to flee, dropping their weapons.
Across the clearing, Tochiro was firing upon another soldier, casting a quick glance at Harlock when he was down, before turning knock the gun from the hands of another with his sword and send him running for the hills.
A rumbling made Harlock turn. The Arcadia had begun to drop its water supply onto the flaming Illumidas wreckage, and with relief, the captain noticed the blaze was steadily dying already. He focused once more on the battle ahead of him.
He was charging directly for the group of soldiers further off that had encircled the tied-up prisoners- he lunged directly at the first stunned Illumidas, elbowing hard against his cheek to send him clattering to the ground. He turned and fired with both of his weapons duel-wielded at two more, never letting up for a chance for retaliation.
The Faeriond, wide-eyed with shock and hope, were emboldened by Harlock’s arrival. They began to resist more ferociously, kicking and lashing with their tied hands as they ambushed the last soldier.
Harlock felt a thrill fo relief- none of them were injured, other than a few light scrapes from being pushed around. Harlock sheathed his Cosmo Dragoon and pulled out blade. “I can free you!” He explained. The first of the Faeriond, a man, approached him quickly and offered his tied hands to the captain. Harlock whittled through the ropes quickly- they were only just thick enough so that they couldn’t be yanked off. Freed, the Faeriond gave him a grateful smile, about to speak, before another in the group cried a warning.
“Behind you!” The warning had come only just too late. The first soldier that Harlock had put down had seemingly recovered, and had fired a shot with one hand from the ground. Harlock yelped as it grazed his shoulder, singing a hole in his bodysuit and through his flesh. Blood gushed from the wound immediately. He turned, quick on his feet, but one of the Faeriond had already picked up an Illumidas gun and fired straight at the soldier’s chest. Harlock winced, but sighed with relief.
“Thank you.” Harlock dipped his head in gratitude.
“No, thank you!” The first young Faeriond man had already freed one of his companions and spoke first to Harlock. “I thought we were done for, for certain.”
A scream from across the field cut Harlock off before he could reply. Turning on his heel, as quick as ever, Harlock raced towards the sound. He immediately knew it had been Tadashi’s cry. His blood throbbed with a protective instinct, giving him a renewed rush of adrenaline.
What Harlock found when he’d turned the corner behind one fo the Faeriond’s buildings made his blood run cold. A Illumidas soldier, lacking a gun, had brandished a blade and slashed at Tadashi’s chest. There was a gaping, angry wound, already staining his shirt a fresh scarlet as he stared in horror down at himself, bringing a hand to the wound instinctively. The solder was preparing to strike again.
Harlock didn’t let that happen. His fury burning to a boiling point, all instincts focused only on protecting on the boy who’d become like a son to the captain, Harlock unleashed a volley of shots from his gravity saber at his back. The illumidas’ downfall was instantaneous- he crumpled to his knees, the blade clattering onto the ground.
“Tadashi! Are you alright?!” Harlock was on Tadashi immediately, ever so gently cradling the wounded boy with shaking hands. An uncharacteristic level of painc made his hands shake- He cursed himself for it, remaining calm as he did his best to help his crewmate and, essentially, foster son.
“I’m alright, captain. Thank you,” Tadashi was awake and alert, which was at least a good sign. Upon further inspection, the wound was not very deep- it was long and angry and bleeding profusely, but with a few days rest and care, would likely heal perfectly fine, though it would likely scar. Harlock was quick to remove his own cloak and double it over on itself to be held firmly against Tadashi’s chest to slow the bleeding. This would do, for now.
A faint taste of bile crept into Harlock’s mouth as his stomach twisted with frustration. He knew he should’ve been there to protect him. He had almost physically to swallow back a more vitriolic reaction that surprised even himself with its intensity. His vision swam before him briefly as he packed Tadashi’s wound, talking to him steadily to keep him awake. Calm, cool, collected as ever. His captain.
Beyond their sheltered spot, the battle was slowing down. A few of the Faeriond Harlock had freed were regrouping, eyes turning worriedly in his direction. They were quick to assist at Harlock’s call, and Harlock hesitantly allowed a few of the women to whisk him up and towards one of their remaining structures that still stood for proper treatment. Harlock was right on their heels, ducking inside the structure behind them.
“M’sorry, captain,” Tadashi muttered as Harlock reached his bedside, keeping his gaze low and on the Faeriond nurse that was rinsing his wound, another teaching and passing a jarred liquid from a nearby curio that housed endless jars and containers of liquids and powders and such. He hissed and winced as some kind of antiseptic was poured onto the fresh gash.
“You don’t need to be sorry.” Harlock reassured firmly but kindly, a gloved hand resting on the boy’s shoulder. “You did wonderfully. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop you from being injured.” Tadashi couldnt interject a reply as a second Faeriond nudged between them, focused on their work. Harlock backed away to allow them to work, keeping an eye on the boy.
With blood being cleared away and revealing only flesh, it betrayed that thankfully the wound was mostly superficial. It would leave a light scar, Harlock could tell, but would heal rather quickly with no other lasting effects.
“Jeez! What happened?” It was Tochiro, puffing, who was beside him. Adjusting his hat so as to try and peer through the Faerionds, his height not doing him any favors.
Harlock felt a small twinge of guilt. “Tadashi for injured. It’s not too bad, but…” he trailed off as one of the aliens came to speak to them.
“Your young one will be okay,” He assured them. “The wound isn’t deep. We can send you with some antibiotics to treat it and speed up the healing process, if you’d like.”
Harlock nodded gratefully. “Thank you. I can get that to our ship’s doctor. I appreciate your help.”
The alien man dipped his head in return. “Not as much as I yours. You definitely saved us. It’s the least we can do for you. Lionel has a gift for you as well.” He nodded, glancing to the blonde-haired woman next to him. She held a larger glass bottle, thin-necked and tinged a pretty blue, a cork in the mouth. It was filled with some kind of serum, with floating plant bits inside. She presented it gracefully.
“For ease of your gestation,” She murmured, dipping her head. Harlock almost choked.
Gestation. A wave of confusion and mortification threatened to break through Harlock’s cool and quiet demeanor.
“I-I’m- Im sorry, I’m not sure what you mean,” was what came out, far more awkward a reply than Harlock usually could offer. The two exchanged bewildered glances that slowly melded into knowing ones as they turned back to Harlock. Harlock stepped closer to them, his face feeling hot as he cast a glance to ensure no one was within earshot. Thankfully, Tochiro had migrated elsewhere, and it was only the captain with the two some feet away. He lowered his voice.
“Are we mistaken? If so, I apologize. I didn’t intend to offend.” The man began to reach for the bottle, take it away, but Harlock hastily and kindly let the woman give it to him. He nodded gratefully, stowed it in an interior pocket of his cloak hurriedly, as if it were something secret.
Harlock pushed himself to regain composure. “I think you are, unfortunately, but-“ Harlock didn’t have a chance to finish before the woman nodded in understanding. Her voice dropped lower.
“I see. Either way, it’s a priceless serum. The Faerionds have always been beings that specialize in fertility, you know. It’s sort of a sixth sense for us. Take it. It can be used to help recover from sickness as well. It lends strength.” She kept her voice down, clearly picking up on his desire to not be overheard.
Harlock nodded frivolously, excused himself with one last expression of gratitude as he secured the bottle in place with a hand around the neck. A faint lightheadedness began brewing in his skull, his heart still thudding from the exchange. But he stowed the feeling away, as detached from him as the serum stowed away in his cloak.
He was thankfully called away from the awkward exchange by Tochiro, across the room, helping Tadashi to his feet in preparations to depart.