This is purely fan fiction. I share this with no implications, speculation, foreknowledge, malice, or anything else. I wrote this for fun and quite a few people liked it so I am merely sharing for the fun. We can do things for fun, right?
He leaned against the railing, crisp air biting his cheeks as he stared into the gloom ahead. The bare whisper of the bow cleaving the dark waters before it, belied the power and speed of the hull. The Commander heaved a heavy sigh and wondered again about the missing scout patrol that had never returned from this sector.
Pushing himself off the railing he started making his way aft. Taking a stroll about the ship always settled him for the night and it had been a very long day. After a few steps he paused. There had been a change. The Arma was a new ship, but he had gotten very familiar with it during its initial testing and had insisted on keeping the ship even after he had approved regular construction. Being intimately familiar with its behavior, he knew every twitch the hull made.
Rather than go to his cabin, he turned to head back to the bridge and was met by a night guard hurrying toward him. “Commander, we’ve come across something… odd. And the Admiral would like to see you,”
The Commander heaved a sigh again. “Let’s get on with it then,” he grumbled as he led on to the bridge. He noticed as he went that the ship had slowed again and men were starting to quickly, but quietly, scurry to various battle stations. Slow enough for him to know they weren’t going live, but manning them nonetheless. He looked towards the guard but saw no indication of surprise and thus presumed the order had made its way silently about the ship even as they had sent the guard for him.
Walking through the double door of the bridge, he spotted the Admiral waiting for him. His white lab coat, smudged and grime stained from the endless sea and constant experimenting, hung loosely from his thin frame. His welding goggles slung around his neck, a habit he refused to break, gleamed in the light. Gray hair poking out from underneath his hat spoke to his age and the stress of several wars that could also be seen stamped on his face. Looking at the Admiral he shook his head in friendly amusement. “Brennus, what is this about?” asked the Commander.
Brennus turned. There seemed to be an excitement in his eyes… perhaps mixed with a bit of trepidation. “Commander Harlock- we’ve found them, the lost scout patrol… and something else. We should be there now.”
Commander Harlock turned and headed to the front of the bridge as he growled back to Brennus “Harlock, Brennus, call me Harlock! We’ve known each other far too long to keep using titles we gave each other.” Turning to one of the crew he called for the spot lights and peered out into the darkness.
“Always my Captain though, sir,” Brennus mumbled under his breath, but too low for Harlock to hear.
The lights cut into the night. Off to the left he saw one of the scout ships still smoldering and drifting aimlessly. Flotsam was scattered everywhere and, as the other ships started searching, he heard a faint, chilling call of “Land ho!” break the silent tension. A lonely voice at first, then another, and more yet, as the lookouts spotted land.
“Is that what you meant Brennus?” asked Harlock, peering ahead.
“Yes, sir. The signatures of the land masses do not match anything in our database,” said Brennus. He added quietly “They are an unknown sir.”
Several ships turned with them to go investigate the land masses. They passed by ancient stonework. Massive walls that seem to have been recently blasted. Harlock called a warning to the rest of his fleet and flashed the lights in ship for battle stations to ready- silently. Brennus leaned towards Harlock “It looks ancient. Certainly not Draconian. It looks...” He trailed off as he stared at the stone and metalwork.
“Spit it out man!” snapped Harlock.
“It’s just… well, it is almost reminiscent of the Scourge in the lines of the designs,” replied Brennus.
“Surely not” breathed Harlock. “They are a race that dwell beneath the waves, why would you think of those bottom dwellers now?”
“I’m not sure… It may not be anything, but the way the design looks...” Brennus shook his head. “I don’t know Harlock, something... something just reminds me of them.”
The ship turned around the wreckage of a fortified mass of earth. Harlock cocked his head to one side, hearing an odd buzzing noise followed by a familiar buzz. Quickly he turned, knocking Brennus aside and shouted “Battle stations Live! Battle stations Live!” as he ran to the helm just as the night erupted in a frenzy around them. Mortar fire could be seen, then heard in the distance. The howl and zing of artillery buzzed above their heads in the night as men screamed orders and responded to the attack with the cannons and mortars aboard.
Brennus reached Harlock’s side, as the Commander heaved on the controls to bank the ship hard. Harlock looked back to see one of the ships in his fleet succumb to damage, and start sinking into the briny depth. He looked to Brennus, “That was not Draconian, nor was it the Reavers. Zoe is south of us, what the hell did we find?!?”
“I don’t know Commander, I just don’t know yet.”
“When we get back, draw up your men and have us prepare to open this sector up and rid ourselves of these relics. I’ll call the Council together. Send out the scouts to gather some information. Let’s make sure we come to this battle prepared.”
“Yes sir, we shall try.”
Harlock looked ahead, a stubborn scowl on his face. He didn’t know- yet, what they faced, but as always, he had confidence in the Forsaken Armada and knew, that no matter the enemy, the Clans and Captains of the Forsaken Council would prevail...