Post-Canon – set approximately 1 year after the events of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. After escaping from the Nautilus, Professor Aronnax and Conseil return to Paris. However, they are not destined to return to their normal lives. Aronnax is abducted and interrogated by agents of the British Intelligence Branch. During the interrogation, Colonel Spencer succeeds in identifying Captain Nemo as Prince Dakkar, one of the leaders of the Indian Rebellion. Spencer begins to weave his web of deceit in order to lure Nemo into a trap and capture the Nautilus.

Warnings: Pre-Slash, UST.

NOTE: This is an amateur translation of the original Russian fanfic authored by Kerisa. It has been translated with Kerisa's permission. Some minimal wording has been changed for the benefit of ease of reading for English readers however, I hope that I have done this marvellous fic justice in my translation.

Chapter 1:

After escaping from the Nautilus, my friends and I sought refuge in Northern Norway with fishermen from the Lofoten Islands. For a month and a half, we waited for a steamer that would take us to the Northern Cape, from where there was regular transport to the mainland. In early August of 1868 (see notes at the end), Conseil, Ned Land and I finally set foot on the deck of the ship and two weeks later were in Oslo.

Ned Land almost immediately departed us and journeyed home to Canada, while Conseil and I stayed in the capital of Norway for a few more weeks. The French Consulate received us kindly and supplied us with everything necessary however, delayed in returning us to France. I understood why. Obviously, they did not believe our story and tried to make inquiries regarding us through the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It was only at the end of September that we were able to return to Paris – and the very next day we were called to the Palace of Justice for tedious hours of questioning. Conseil and I had to tell, in detail, about our ten-month journey under the water and answer many questions.

What was the nationality of Captain Nemo and his crew? How many people were on-board the Nautilus? What was the name of the ship that was sunk on the second of June? How did the electric battery, the propulsion system of the Nautilus, work? I did not know the answer to some questions, and I did not want answer others, and thus stated everything a little differently than it was in reality. I said that we were captives, though not oppressed, and that we were not given the opportunity to communicate with anyone except the captain, and that most of what happened on the underwater ship remained a mystery to us. I did not give any exact figures and avoided drawing schematics of the Nautilus, describing only the structures of the areas I often visited, namely the dining room, library, saloon, my own quarters and the captain's. I did not recall any co-ordinates and forgot many dates.

Conseil followed my example in everything – that is, he was indifferent and distant in his answers.

I hoped that with the end of this tedious inquiry, our misadventures would also end. How wrong I was!

On the fourth day since our return to Paris, I exited the Museum of Natural History, where I had not been for a year and a half, had scarce taken a few dozen steps along the pavement before two tall men, with military bearing, approached me.

"Professor Aronnax?" One of them asked with a slight English accent.

"Yes, at your service. What do you want?"

"You will come with us."

A carriage stopped next to me and I was rather unceremoniously pushed inside. In the same instant, the whip cracked, and the carriage took off, moving along the cobblestone pavement. Everything happened so fast that I did not have time to make sense of what was happening.

"What's the meaning of all this?" I asked coldly while trying to get up.

"Calm down, Monsieur Professor," one of the abductors answered, grabbing my arm and forcibly pushing me back. "The colonel will explain everything to you."

The second abductor silently squeezed my other arm and did not release me. I felt helpless. The rapidity of the abductors and the timing of the carriage revealed to me that I was dealing with experienced thugs. I thought it wise to submit to them – at least until I meet the mysterious "colonel".

We were sitting on the bench facing the direction on travel – I was in the middle and my assailants on either side. The widows of the carriage were covered with thick curtains. The carriage begun to pick up speed and I soon lost track of where we were and where we were going.

We drove around half an hour or more and for the last ten minutes I felt the pavement give way to a soft dirt road. Even through the curtains, I could smell fresh air and cut grass and realised that we had left Paris. I felt the carriage make several turns and heard the clang of a gate being unlocked. A few minutes later the carriage stopped.

"Follow me, Professor Aronnax," said one of the abductors, opening the door.

I only managed to catch a glimpse of an old country house, surrounded by tall trees, before I was rushed inside. The hall was dimly lit, and I was ushered upstairs into a small room furnished like a library with bookcases along both walls and a large desk littered with newspapers. At the desk, with his back to the window, sat a middle-aged but fit looking man, who immediately rose on our appearance.

"Professor Aronnax?" He asked politely. "I apologize for the rash kidnapping. I am Colonel Spencer. Please, sit down."

He pointed to a chair. I sat down, more intrigued than scared.

Colonel Spencer nodded to one of my abductors who at his signal, left the room, closing the door behind him. The second one stood at the threshold as a guard.

"Professor Aronnax, I will be frank with you, I need your help," said Colonel Spencer. "I know you well and have the deepest respect for you. My nephews are reading your book 'Mysteries of the Ocean Depths'. You are an intelligent man, and I will be honest with you. As you probably already guessed, I will question you about the underwater vessel which is controlled by those who put themselves above justice and humanity, and cause nothing but misery and death. I am talking about the Nautilus and its commander, Captain Nemo. We must stop him."

I took a deep breath, feeling dreary displeasure. Of course, the Nautilus was no less interesting to the British than it was to the French.

"I'm afraid I can't justify your hopes, Colonel Spencer," I replied, and then repeated what I said at the interrogation at the Ministry: "I was held captive on the Nautilus, and I saw very little. Captain Nemo behaved quite kindly and did not oppress us, but he never said anything – neither about himself, nor about his crew or his ship."

Spencer stared at me with clear grey eyes and I saw ice in them. Ice and ashes.

"Never said anything?" quietly repeated the colonel. "But Mr. Land says otherwise. Do you read English?"

He pushed a newspaper toward me. "A month ago, the New York Times published a long interview with Ned Land which would tell me otherwise…"

I began to read and felt a mortal chill creep into my heart. Not only did Ned correctly assess all the dimensions of the Nautilus and sketched a plan, he described the propulsion characteristics, listed measuring devices located in the cabin, and most importantly – made me almost the best friend of Captain Nemo who provided me with a special counsel and respect.

"At the end of May, the military frigate 'Bristol', commanded by my wife's brother Edward Munro, sailed," continued Colonel Spencer. "He went from the North Atlantic to the Faroe Islands. You know what happened to him, Monsieur Professor! My four nephews were orphaned!"

I could not look at him. Again, vividly, I saw crowds of dark ghosts rushing along the upper deck of the sinking frigate – ghosts climbing up the shrouds, clinging to the mast, floundering in the water. I felt the horror, sadness and helplessness of that terrible day, and my intention to keep the secrets of Captain Nemo was seriously shaken.

"The commander of the Nautilus is a ruthless killer, a threat to the entire civilized world." Colonel Spencer continued in cold fury. "If you do not want to be an accomplice to his atrocities, help me stop him."

"Ask," I said reluctantly without taking my eyes off the newspaper, "I'll tell you everything I know."

Contrary to my expectations, Spencer did not ask about the technical equipment of the Nautilus, it was clear that the information provided by Ned Land fully satisfied him. He was much more interested in Captain Nemo himself.

What did he look like? What languages did he speak? What books did he have in the library? What portraits hung in his quarters? Did he play the organ well, and what exactly did he play? What language did the crew speak? Could I remember a few words? And when I repeated the usual phrase of the First Mate "Nautron respoc lorni virch", the guard that stood at the door (I had forgotten about him!) suddenly exclaimed in English with a trembling voice:

"Good Lord, it is Dakkar!"

"Smith!" Spencer snapped.

I was afraid to breathe.

Having fixed his subordinate with a withering gaze, the colonel looked at me and I understood that he was deciding my fate.

"You will stay here until morning, then I will let you go." Spencer said after a few very long seconds. "Smith, take Professor Aronnax to the southern guest bedroom."

He rose from the table and gave me a short nod to indicate that the conversation was over. Smith escorted me from the library, and we walked down the corridor almost to the end of the wing, and then he unlocked one of the doors, pushing me into a room furnished like a cheap hotel. The key turned in the lock – and I was finally left alone.

I rushed to the window but found it to be inlaid with heavy iron bars. Tall trees completely obscured my view, leaving nothing but a sea of green and yellow leaves. I pulled the bars, but they did not give. There was no escape.

I recall that the evening and night seemed unbearably long. At first, I was too anxious to sit still or go to sleep – the name, inadvertently dropped by my abductor, resounded in my head. Dakkar! I had certainly saw or heard it somewhere, but my mind was racing, and I could not remember when and where. I decided that it would be wise to try and get some rest – I did not know what tomorrow would bring. When it began to get dark, Smith came and brought a candle, a jug of water, a towel, and a simple dinner. My jailer avoided my gaze and did not utter a word.

I was outraged by Colonel Spencer's methods, but I could not help but admit that he treated me rather gently. In any case, he fulfilled his promise. The next morning, I was put in the same carriage with the curtained windows and driven back to Paris.

Notes:

Date Changes:
I have taken the liberty of changing some of the dates within this text - by moving some forward by a year.

My understanding is that the journey on the Nautilus, in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, begins in 1867 and ends in 1868.

Therefore, Professor Aronnax, Conseil and Ned Land would be leaving Norway in August 1868 not 1869 (as originally written by the author) since it has only been a month and a half since their escape. I will ensure to move all dates forward, from this point, by a year.

If I have stuffed this up, please let me know!