A/N:

Bear with me through this short little prologue at the beginning here, because the sequel has an awesome plot. And, before I begin, I do have to say, I'm using a lot of helpful information from the Treasure Planet: a Voyage of Discovery book and the computer game… ah, yes, and the Procyons will make an appearance, if you know who they are. Though, anything about them will hardly be accurate since I've yet to finish the computer game… stupid pirates blowing up Jim's ship… grrr…

Oh, and just a little promise for you: I'm trying to write more of it from Jim's point of view. I think that would've made the first one a lot better.

Disclaimer: If I really owned Treasure Planet by now, don't you think I'd be shoving it in your faces… uh, I mean comforting you in your loss? cough

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Date: 01.0-020.50

Place: R.L.S. Amphitrite

One hundred years before the destruction of Connaissance, the legend had begun; deep within the farthest reaches of our galaxy, the Forefathers had left behind a legacy: a planet made entirely of metal, a machine. For nearly a century, the people of Connaissance aimed to use the same technology for their own purposes.

It became their downfall.

The explosion created a rogue wave, wiping out nearly half of the population: over three billion people were killed, including a group of Procyon ships sent to protect their Ambassador. They mistook it for a deliberate attack. With their audacious fury, our numbers decreased –soon, I was assumed to be one offive-thousand survivors.

Of course, I had Nathaniel to thank for that.

-Henai Wycomb

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The thunder cracked across the sky, followed closely by a bolt of lighting. Its bright light shown through the windows of the largest pub on the mud-covered street. Outside, the cold, dark atmosphere held its contrast against the upbeat room just past the windows. No one heard the torrents of rain falling upon the pantiled roof, for they were much too distracted by other things –a bit of gambling, strong drink, or the overall lightheartedness of the evening.

The chairs and tables were in disarray as yet another fight broke out in the far right corner of the pub. The young man sitting at the bar paid them no mind. He merely stared at the half-empty bottle in his hand, his thoughts engulfing him completely as was usual. He knew nothing of the events to come –that one small overheard conversation could set into motion a path to… a redemption, of sorts.

He knew nothing… yet it was too quiet; the past few days too uneventful. Something was going to happen.

"…horrible," The man sitting at the bar beside him continued. Avery nodded, jumping back into the Captain's rant. "Disgusting rains. We'll be stuck 'ere at port for days, we will."

"Aye." He answered. It was easy sometimes –talking to Napier. The man required him only to listen for the most part. In all honesty, Avery hadn't been the most social person in at two years. Then again, things happened. And some things could change who one was, if they had enough impact on one's life. "They'll end eventually though, and we'll be on our way."

For a man of only twenty-three it seemed unlikely that he was old enough to become first mate to a man such as Matthew Napier. Or any captain for that matter. Yet, Avery had, literally, a lifetime of experience. That, he supposed, had made all the difference. That and he knew the Etherium like the back of his hand. Either one was good, whichever way you looked at it. Napier nodded and seemed to stare off into space, as he often did. He turned away from the captain and looked across the bar.

The maid behind the counter was chatting nonchalantly with a man leaning over the bar. She twisted her black curls around her fingers, the smile on her face distinctively fake. It made him think –where the heck was Evelyn? She was usually here by now… that is, she never missed getting a good drink when they were at port. He looked over his shoulder, as if to make sure she wasn't standing right behind him, ready to throw a witty insult. As if he hadn't gotten enough of that from… no. Those memories were forbidden. He knew that.

He sighed, just as he looked over to a table in the back. Beneath a swinging overhead lamp, three men sat together, all facing one young man across from them. The young man, still pretty much a boy and not many years younger than himself, had a look of complete seriousness about his expression, while the men across from him had been laughing. He raised his voice at them, slamming some book onto the table. It was then that the three stood up, their laughter ending.

Avery was sure no one in the pub could miss what one man shouted.

"That's enough boy! I don't want to hear any of this nonsense again! Leave us be." He pounded his fist onto the table as the others agreed with angry faces.

The young man stood up defiantly. "But if you would just listen-" His face came into the light. Astonishingly, he was a Crocuta; his hyena-like appearance could tell anyone that. One of only a few left alive to be exact. "This leads to her planet! It's been lost for over hundreds of years! If you were to find it, you'd be the richest men sailing the Etherium! All you need is to find the compendium-"

With a furious face, the man picked up the book from the table. "If you think this stupid little journal is going to help you find some God-forsaken planet then go right ahead. But don't expect any help from us." With that, he threw it easily across the room, pages flying out and landing slowly onto the ground. It fell behind the bar, though the maid paid it no mind.

One of the men, shorter and round about the stomach wheezed in a comment, sneering. "Good luck!" Sarcasm. Something found commonly around these lots.

Jumping up from the table, the boy rushed to collect the papers that were strewn across the floor. Avery shook his head at him just as Napier took another drink. The captain never really paid attention to others much. He had to tear his gaze away from the back wall, lined with bottles, when a paper floated down onto the counter next to him. He had no idea what the boy had tried to get those men to help him with, yet the paper caught his eye.

It certainly was a journal. An old one to be exact –but what caught his eye was the drawing on this particular page. It was an astronomical compendium, a detailed picture showing the tools inside and the inscription on the cover. Avery, however, had seen the item many times before –and it certainly wasn't a drawing.

He picked up the paper with a completely dumbfounded look on his reptilian face just as the young Crocuta came up, his arms laden with aged pages. From the look he had, Aver would have guessed the boy expected another insult. But, just as the young man opened his mouth, Napier chose to speak up.

"Eh? What have you there, Avery?" He scratched his head and gave an otherwise apathetic look.

He honestly couldn't move his eyes from the paper. But, at least he could speak. "Your name?" He addressed the boy.

"Israel." The voice replied. "Israel Hastings."

"Whose is this?" Avery continued, perplexed at the picture's familiarity.

Israel raised an eyebrow. "Whose? Are you kidding me? Its Henai Wycomb's of course! Greatest inventor ever to sail the skies, and first mate to the famous Flint. Everyone knows that." This kid certainly was cocky.

"What is it?" Napier asked, frustrated at the fact his first mate had not answered him.

Avery shook his head, a wicked grin spreading over his face. "It's not hers. Not right now, anyway."

"Wait!" The kid pushed his blond hair out of his face before asking. "You know who has it?"

"Better." He answered almost immediately, realizing that there was an adventure to be had. "I know who has it. And where she is."

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Lightening… Why was there lightening in this darkness? She pondered this, among many other things. Off to the side… in front of her… within a hand's reach the light struck soundlessly. There was nothing but the darkness, so choking –she was drowning in it. And then –yes, there was light, just as she blinked.

She saw red.

A reddened sky… the color of blood that she knew too well… it was lifeless. A wind pushed her hair back, and she breathed deep, staying all too calm than was normal. She couldn't account for her actions –she wasn't even able to control them now. She wasn't able to look down, but she could feel the ground beneath her as she fell to her knees painfully. It was hard –unforgiving yet so familiar.

Yes, she recalled it now. She had been here before.

She knew not why, or when. Thoughts were usually inaccessible now, anyway. Around her boots, ashes swirled in the winds, moving in tight spirals. Her pale fingers brushed the ground… it was cold, contradicting the warm air that spoke only one thing: fire. She could swear she saw it out of the corner of her eye –just at the edges of her vision. She shook her head and shut her eyes, yet the moment she did, a voice rang out in the stillness.

"What…" Her eyes opened quickly, the hair on the back of her neck standing straight. "…side…" It hissed.

She knew that voice.

She knew it better than anyone. And, she turned around quickly, suddenly finding herself at her feet already. She searched –searched for that voice that couldn't possibly be speaking to her. It was illogical.

"Cheater."

She whipped around once more, her black hair flying over her shoulder. That voice, her voice –it was spoken clearly, as if right next to her. But, she hadn't even opened her mouth.

"I suppose so."

Every muscle in her body froze up at the sound. It was then, with perfect nonchalance, that a man stepped out from behind her and continued walking. He stopped only a few feet ahead of her and turned his head back. Those eyes… she knew them.

Grant.

She did nothing more than mouth the name, for she was unable to find her voice at the moment. The silver hair… dark green skin… she even recognized the hilt of the sword he carried at his side and the stoic look on his face. A piercing noise reached her ears –metal upon metal… a sword grating across the ground. There was no hesitance as she clamped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes.

"No." She gasped, feeling weaker by the moment as fear welled up in her. She didn't understand her thoughts. How could she feel so terrified, and so relieved at the same time? Why would she be scared of him in the first place?

And then, all those things she didn't want to remember… all those memories she tried to so hard to forget… they all flashed before her closed eyes in an instant.

"You treat this like a game! Our lives are on the line, here…" She shouldn't have yelled.

He could've been less harsh, though. "You think I'm hiding? …It hardly seems your own choice… just disappointed."

"If you're angry with him, then why fight me?" She would've rather it been her, than have his life on the line.

She'd never heard that much anger in his voice… the kind that had pushed him to madness -"You started to listen."

"No!" She couldn't take it anymore. Her eyes shot open and she started forward and looked him straight in the eye, though her hands were trembling as she curled them into fists. "You're not here! You're not real!" She grabbed his jacket, trying to push him away –trying to convince herself that he was a dream. Her vision clouded and she suddenly realized it was from her own tears, falling effortlessly down her face.

Her breath was uneven, and her knees shook. Yet, she had to see. She tilted her head up to look at him. Those green eyes –they were so alive now, shining. How ironic. But why?

The ground trembled as she heard a large explosion echo from beneath the surface. Regretfully, she fell as she felt the vibrations deep in her chest, but she looked up at him –not wanting him to disappear again. He took a step back from her, his emotionless face turning to one of pity.

"I'm sorry, Sora."

The words rang in her head, though he hadn't even opened his mouth. He reached down to his belt and pulled out his pistol. There wasn't even an ounce of care on his face for what he was about to do…

"I really am…"

She jerked awake, sitting up immediately. The cold air met her sweat soaked skin, and she shivered as she looked around quickly. Nothing there but shadows. The early morning light filtered in through the curtains and with each passing moment, she felt as if she were breaking the silence with her ragged breathing. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them for comfort. The covers fell away from her legs with a slight breeze as she lifted a hand to her face. She was disappointed and angry to find tears still running down her face.

She muttered an oath, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her bare feet touched down on the frozen wooden floor, but she took a few steps away from the bed anyway. Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting quickly and she made her way towards the door before stopping and turning on her heel. Out of curiosity, she pulled back the dark blue cloth from the window a few inches. Of course, everyone would be up before she was. That was how it always worked. But even the calm and quiet scene outside couldn't comfort her now. Nothing could –at least, until she saw him. Yes, there was something to look forward to now.

From outside her window, one could have seen her shake her head and turned away, the curtain falling back into place quickly. But, no one outside would've had the time to stop. No, things were much too busy already. The crowds outside the apartments moved around in a mess, some people heading to the small market or the docks. There was an odd feeling in the early summer air. Something the town of Benbow never had –tension. Something wasn't right. Of course, no one, especially him, would have ever seen it coming.

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A/N:

Yeah, so… Just stick around till the next chapter. Please?