This week the X Bomber crew find themselves on Pluto– an icy world now strangely vacant. There is danger in the winds and mystery in the snowfall. What became of Captain Carter? What will be Makara’s next battle plan? And what is the truth about F-01?
After a quick recap from the narrator, we are back aboard our favourite battlecruiser.


Dr. Benn, Lamia, and Kirara are enjoying the view from the bridge. The doc swivels around with the aura of a proud dad and congratulates the three boys on their performance in Dai-X.
Shiro, who never read up on etiquette, doesn’t say thank you and rushes into announcing he had no idea it was going to work. We know you didn’t, Shiro. This was apparently the first Dai-X junction, which means that this crew waltzed into battle on a whim with an untested robot mecha. This sounds pretty half baked.
But they pulled it off and Shiro reckons it was the result of team work. Hercules seizes the spotlight and points it at Lamia. He leaps to his feet and declares that her contributions aboard X Bomber saved the day.
While Lamia (with typical modesty) deflects his praise, I wonder whether this is a second indication of Hercules’ developing feelings for her. Things could get complicated!
John Lee, oblivious to subtext, begins ragging on PPA. In full sarcasm mode, he mocks PPAs cowardice in the heat of battle. In hindsight, this seems a bit out of character for PPA who never had this kind of anxiety before the last episode.
But PPA, decked out in full hospital paraphernalia, rises to the bait and fumes and rages at the “impudent boy” and demands respect while also spraying great plumes of smoke from under his wing flaps.1
This looks a bit strange and cartoony but it’s nothing *NOTHING* compared to what happens next.
With gathering force–– a sound musters up on my speakers. A wailing, shrieking sound underscored by a guttural heaving. A sound like a pack of dogs trying to wrangle a blender. What is this monstrous cacophony?


That sound, dear reader, is John Lee and Barry Hercules engaged in mirth. Merrymaking. Laughter. I point out only these two (to judge by the expression on Shiro’s face he’s either laughing or letting out a blood-curdling shriek) as they are the loudest on the soundtrack– drowning out the laughs of Dr. Benn and possibly others as well. Lee sounds as if he’s just stuck his pinky toe into a mousetrap and Hercules is making rhythmic hurling noises that can no doubt be heard back on Earth where everyone is suddenly feeling nauseous.
To put it mildly, these are two very unsuccessful laughs. I don’t blame the performers. It was early in the show and they were still finding the characters. I also can’t blame the producers as they were no doubt under tremendous time pressure. Maybe the root of this is yet another translation issue? In English, what PPA said isn’t that funny. He was just being his usual high and mighty self.
The puppet sculpts echo a similar scene in the film Thunderbird 6 (1968) where similar designs were incorporated. Then, as in this instance, the results are more horror inducing. These expressions of intense mirth are totally rigid. Next time someone laughs at one of your jokes, take a moment to notice that their is very little rigidity in the act of laughing. It is a very elastic movement and these puppets, like the Supermarionation puppets before them, have very little elasticity to offer. They just can’t seem to do it well, at least not in any examples made so far. 2
As if things could not get any weirder, Kirara begins clanging cymbals. CYMBALS.
First of all– why? Is it a thing in Japanese culture to clang cymbals at someone when you’re making fun of their cowardice? Is it because Kirara looks like an organ grinder’s monkey? Because he is a child’s plaything?
WHO GAVE HIM THESE CYMBALS? HAS HE ALWAYS HAD THEM? WILL HE CONTINUE TO HAVE THEM FOR THE REST OF THE SHOW?
Last, he didn’t seem to be holding them before in previous shots. I am left to conclude that these devices of percussion must have spontaneously generated into the hands of this beast, who then decided the time was right to begin the unholy ritual of awakening all the demons in hell.
Moving swiftly on, the good Doctor is wobbling like a bobble head and Lamia titters behind a violent tremor in her hand.3
PPA feels so bullied by this extraordinary outburst, that he hides behind a console. Poor Persecuted Android!
As X Bomber finally touches down, a haunting march begins to play. Dr. Benn announces over a loudspeaker that he’s landing and orders snow mobiles prepared. If I was listening in the vicinity I would find this pretty confusing– it actually sounds like he’s talking to his crew over the PA and pressed the wrong button.
Between the music and these beautiful, hazy images of snowy mountains, Pluto seems a very lonely place– much emptier now than it appeared when Makara was attacking here.
The melancholy mood is undercut only a little by the fact that John Lee is slurping down an ice cream cone. Most people seem to prefer ice cream in warm weather but not John Lee. I bet he drinks hot soup in the dead of summer too.
Shiro is the leader of this expedition. Lee wonders if there’s even a chance they will find Captain Carter. So that’s what these boys are doing out in the elements. They are looking for their old Star Fleet Training Academy instructor and friend.
“Listen hot shot,” Hercules says with his usual sensitivity, “Shiro won’t face it. If Captain Carter were still alive, he’d have turned up at Pluto Base a long time ago.” Cold but very pragmatic.
Shiro says nothing at all.






Shiro, driven on by something inside him, continues the quest. Searching and searching despite the frozen, desolate landscape. No one could have survived here and nobody else is even looking. If there was a formal search party for Captain Carter, it disbanded long ago.
Cut to Shiro standing on this snowy outcropping. Hours seem to have flown past. Hercules demands to know over the comms how long this is going to on. “Until we find Captain Carter,” Shiro insists.
This is the first inkling of Shiro’s ferocious determination– the kind of determination his father doubtless needed to build the X Bomber. He’s never going to give up on his fallen comrade even though everyone else has.
Even Hercules is worn out by this escapade. Lee approaches Shiro with the air of someone talking to a dangerous and unbalanced mental patient. “We must search further,” he insists.
Hercules and Lee agree that Carter must be dead, as evidenced by a quick flashback to the attack on Pluto.
But somehow, Shiro knows Carter is still alive. He must have some sort of link with his old tutor or low level ESP. As we know, but our characters do not, Carter is alive and a prisoner of the Alliance.
Unlike Lee, who went to the attack on Pluto, Shiro flashes back to his time at training school.



Captain Carter, appearing like a mythical figure in silhouette and energetically voiced by Garrick Hagon, demands to know if Shiro intends to fire “a laser” at the enemy. I can see why Shiro would have fond memories of this guy.
Carter waves around a swagger stick and demands that Shiro concentrate. For his part, Shiro looks a little bit angry and a little bit ashamed at his failure.



Shiro insists he is a good shot, but Carter denies it. “If I was an enemy soldier, I’d be laughing,” the teacher growls before actually taking a few pot shots past his pupil to get his attention. Goading Shiro into action, Carter demands that Shiro shoot at him. “Right here,” he insists with a thump of his chest, “aim at my heart. The jacket is bulletproof.”
Ye gods. This is old school military technique that would seem more at home in ancient Rome or Nelson’s navy than in a futuristic star fleet academy. Besides, with Shiro’s last round, I wouldn’t count on him to confine his fire to the jacket.
It doesn’t matter, because Shiro can’t do it. He can’t shoot at his instructor. In a scene that could’ve been cut from Whiplash (2014), Carter tells Shiro that he’s a lousy shot, a coward, and that he might as well quit. This is all too much for Shiro, who pulls the trigger!



Carter reels back and collapses! Don’t you miss those good ol’ days at school? What’s that? You never had to shoot your teacher? Well, you obviously aren’t ready for Star Fleet!
Poor Shiro, obviously traumatized, just stands locked in place and trembling. It’s an uncomfortable shot and it lingers for several seconds as we slowly dolly in. At last, Carter’s hand comes in and pushes aside Shiro’s weapon. Shiro dares to open his eyes.
There’s Carter! Praising Shiro and showing off a piece of damaged laser proof armor. “See you can aim and shoot at the same time!” he says, ignoring the fact that Shiro has to be insulted and humiliated in order for this to happen.
However, Shiro seems to be taking it in the spirit in which it was intended. Jay Benedict’s vocal performance suggests that Shiro has found some sort of inner strength through this ordeal.
Personally, I find it hard to imagine a training program like this being effective. It’s especially disturbing since this is the first actual example of Shiro and Carter interacting and it’s borderline abusive. On the other hand, it all depends on what the relationship between these two men was like. Carter’s methods may be cruel, but they also may be tailored to Shiro’s specific needs and complex psychology. 4
In a dream like sequence, we see Shiro in a star fighter simulator spinning through a black void. Carter gives instructions via radio and Shiro successfully destroys his target.








Meanwhile, back in the shooting gallery, it’s time for Shiro’s final test and he “can’t afford” to make one mistake according to Captain Carter’s disembodied voice. Is he inside Shiro’s head? Can Shiro, actually 5 billion kilometers away on Pluto, be afraid to look at his old mentor?
It doesn’t matter because the music is exciting. This scene is dedicated to action. What will Shiro’s final challenge be? Some sort of philosophical test? A test of character?
On the surface, it’s just more target practice. Ah, well that’s important if you’re going to be a soldier.
As cardboard figures jump out at Shiro from every direction, the filmmakers employ the time honored tradition of using a handheld camera to simulate a point of view for a character who can’t walk very well. This is a great way to create action and movement and fits in here seamlessly.








The fearful and angry Shiro of the first segment is no where to be found. Instead, this Shiro is calm, collected, and highly accurate with his shooting. He seems almost bored by this shopping mall laser tag course.
As he nears the end, he walks into a bright light. Walking out, he is threatened with a gun to his ribs.
But even then, Shiro, doesn’t lose his cool. “I knew it was you, sir!” he says. But who?
Why, Captain Carter, of course! Carter is pleased with Shiro’s progress. But he offers one final piece of fatherly advice. “Always trust your instincts.”
With this final piece of advice echoing in the ambiance, Shiro and Carter walk out into the daylight and admire the cherry blossons5 blowing in the wind. Carter places an affirming hand on Shiro's shoulder. As the wind picks up, the falling blossoms dissolve into snowflakes and we find ourselves back on Pluto. A perfect transition from an idealized memory to harsh reality. "Always trust your instincts."
I have mixed feelings about this flashback. On the one hand, the challenges Shiro faces are mere target practice in a physical sense. The mental training to become a warrior feels a bit stilted, forced, and borderline sadistic. It lacks the genuine depth of, say, the scenes of Luke studying under Yoda in The Empire Strikes Back (1980, the same year X Bomber premiered on Japanese TV).
On the other, it is great to see a small glimpse of the academy and get a window into Shiro’s character. Ultimately, his connection with Captain Carter is about filling the void of a missing and much needed father figure. It’s the same role that Dr. Benn has come to play for Shiro now.
The imagery and visual storytelling are very poignant despite being crafted on a tight budget. Carter’s seeming cruelty is given some warmth by Garrick Hagon’s great vocal performance.
I’m willing to watch the sequence’s flaws float away; like cherry blossoms dissolving into snow.
On frozen Pluto, it’s obvious Shiro’s companions didn’t join in on this voyage into memory land. Hercules reckons they should build a memorial and Lee thinks it’s a great idea.
“Never.” Shiro flat out refuses. As far as he is concerned, Captain Carter is alive and out there somewhere. He won’t let go. He won’t lose another Dad.


On the bridge of X Bomber, everything is still and quiet as a Christmas card.
Lamia is having a nap. No one else is around save for the hairy cymbal player Kirara, who seems agitated. And no wonder! A voice is piping through the bridge. It’s coming out of the radio from somewhere beyond the stars.
“To my compatriot on Earth, this is the Skull.”
Kirara wakes Lamia, who seems startled by this mysterious communique. It’s not clear how this signal got connected to the bridge (did Kirara turn the radio on?) deepening the sense of the unknown.
The transmissions are delivered in monotone by Peter Marinker. “My compatriot6,” the voice calls out, “you have the pendant.” It says it will “lead you to us by tractor beam.”
Pendant? But Lamia has a pendant! This message must be for her!
Foregoing all caution (and trusting her own instincts) Lamia insists that she knows the identity of this Skull.
All of this is very weird and spooky. Lamia’s isolation makes it feel even more ominous and between her napping on the bridge and Shiro’s idyllic flashback, it almost seems like it could be another dream sequence.
The voice continues to chant over the X Bomber PA as Lamia walks transfixed down the empty corridors. This voice has a hypnotic effect on her. It isn’t clear whether this is good or bad, it merely is. A sudden, strong and mysterious presence from beyond space.
In what is swiftly becoming a pattern, Lamia has done something rash. Hopping aboard a small space skiff, she flies out from the warm X Bomber into the snow and then out towards the cold of space.
Pluto traffic control (a voice on the radio played by Garrick Hagon) warns “Shuttlecraft 07” to identify “destination and purpose.”
Lamia is stony faced. She doesn’t respond to the request.
Dr. Benn is back on the X Bomber bridge– awakened from a nap also? Since he’s still dressed, it seems likely that he was consulting with the builders of the new Pluto base. Kirara, though somewhat complicit in Lamia’s disappearance, is very distressed by her absence.
The boys are back and the traffic control voice continues to play over the radio, calling out to Lamia (I think it is no longer Garrick’s voice– it is possibly John Baddeley). Lee asks if Lamia has disappeared and Benn confirms it.
Interestingly, Benn doesn’t know about the message from space7 and his powers of communication are not so advanced that he can talk to Kirara. Astoundingly, he makes another wild guess that is eerily accurate. What is with this guy?
Lamia, he surmises, must have gotten a missive from somebody “using a secret frequency.” 8 Kirara appears to think about this really hard.
Hercules, feeling protective of his crush, wonders if it is a trap set by the Imperial Alliance. Benn doesn’t know, but the shuttlecraft is gone and so is Lamia, so something dangerous is bound to be going on.
Shiro, Hercules, and Lee huddle up and agree to go looking for her in the Dai-X fighters. Good thinking, lads!
A mysterious synth loop that recurs throughout the series begins to play as Lamia flys onwards.
Pluto Alpha Base is calling9 but Lamia ignores it. She apologizes, but it doesn't seem like her radio is transmitting. She's really talking to herself, to assuage her conscience.


“I can’t help it. I’ve got to find out about myself,” Lamia says, “please forgive me for running out on you.”
X Bomber takes off! Apparently a necessary step in order to launch the Dai-X.



As heroic music plays, our heroes launch their fighters. Dr. Benn and PPA watch forlorn as the young heroes rush to their mission.

Shiro reports to Benn that they have launched (he knows) and that he is “awaiting orders,” (look for Lamia, helmet hair) and Benn replies that he has managed to trace the signal that lured Lamia into space.
The three fighters head “in the direction of Cassiopeia.”
In a very nice scene, Benn comforts Kirara, assuring him that the pilots will find Lamia. PPA backs him up on this. He’s really a Perfectly Pleasant Android.
Even though they are all following the same trace, the three pilots have fanned out, perhaps to cover a wider sector of space.
Shiro talks to the absent Lamia in a prayerful voice. “Please be safe,” he intones before hanging his head in worry.
In a less private moment, Shiro begins transmitting to Lamia and his voice affects her deeply. Despite her emotions (a credit to the puppeteers), Lamia turns off the radio.

Judging from her instruments, Lamia conjectures that the source of the transmission is nearby. But she’s looking the wrong way. When she turns her head…
She sees something the like of which she’s never seen before.
A sailing ship. In deep space!
Full disclosure, I’ve written a big pile of scripts and screenplays and most of them involve some sort of highly terrestrial object in space (such as a lighthouse) so I am very biased when I say that I love this idea.
A ship like this is both abstract enough to be alien and yet close enough to Earthly concepts that it can draw upon the audience’s extensive experience with this kind of imagery. In particular, you are probably thinking of pirate ships from Peter Pan or Treasure Island. With a name like the Skull, it isn’t hard to see why.
This only adds to the mystery. Paul Bliss’ mysterious theme doesn’t seem to indicate the presence of the Alliance, but it doesn’t exactly indicate friendliness either. It is a swirling, haunting rift that makes me think perhaps this is some sort of ghost ship.
Whatever it is, Lamia is rushing towards it. Full speed!
Support
Buy me a cup of coffee or support on a monthly basis for exclusive BTS content
Order some Star Fleet stuff on Amazon and support this site
Subscribe to this blog and to YouTube for FREE STUFF!
Conveniently, PPA’s lower half is out of shot so a technician can literally blow the smoke up his bottom. You can also identify some of the lighting equipment reflected in his lens.
In the Stingray and Thunderbirds eras, a more effective technique was to show character smirking and then laughing off camera. I.e. excusing themselves and then laughing just outside the door. By the time of Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons there was very little time for joviality.
It appears Lamia was not sculpted with a smiling head. This hyena behaviour would be beneath her character’s dignity. Also, the production could have run out of time for these extra sculpts. They would never be seen again.
Shiro’s mother is never mentioned. No siblings are hinted at and Dr. Hagen is long gone by the time Shiro reaches the academy. He always wears the same clothes every single day and wears a helmet at all times as if afraid of the ceiling caving in. Is it like some sort of security blanket? All of this suggests that there is a lot going on with Shiro on an internal level. It’s nice to get a break from the action to examine his past.
An important symbol of the cycles of life and death in Japanese culture, as well as both beauty and violence. https://www.bbg.org/news/cherry_trees_in_japanese_folklore
I 100% learned the word compatriot from this TV show.
Yes, I am making a reference to that X Bomber influencing Star Wars knock off Message From Space (1978).
This would explain why the Doctor didn’t hear the message. It could have been in an alien frequency that only Lamia and Kirara could hear. That or Benn was off ship at the time as I previously concluded.
Shouldn’t it be Pluto Beta Base now? I’m definitely overthinking this puppet show.
The theme Paul Bliss wrote for the Skull is one of the most mesmerizing things I think anyone could hear on Saturday morning at the time. Such a dreamy cue: https://youtu.be/XuUgi5qAI4o?t=205