Chapter 2 is up. *sigh* not that many people appear to have taken the time out of their lives to read this. But I got the idea that at least one person might be reading; so I went on and posted this. Please, please, if you're reading this, than post a review. It doesn't have to be much; jeez a monosyllabic "hi" would be enough for me. If you read this, I thank you. A lot.
Once again: I do not own Treasure Planet. Treasure Planet belongs to Disney. Only OC's are mine.
Chapter 2: The Hunt is On
The hunt was on. At first, Almeda had relished every aspect. Hunting she was good at. Chasing down every fragment or rumor on her old enemy, jumping planets, skipping through dozens of disreputable bars. But, patient as she was, Almeda was getting tired of this. What she wanted was blood (barbaric as that sounded). She wanted to do the deed, have it over and done. The end.
One of her main problems was that most stories about the cyborg seemed to end nearly three years ago. Somewhere around then he'd gotten involved in . . . something big. But the stories all seemed blown out of proportion, with obviously invented adventures sprawling every which way. And then, nothing. The once-famed pirate just disappeared. Oh, there were those who knew him on sight, and had led the trail to the haunt she had caught him at. But the stories stopped. In fact, it was popular belief among the uneducated piratical rabble that he'd died. Or just disappeared on that trip, three years ago. What had happened?
The fact that something had occurred was obvious. It must have been a very real voyage. And, as near as Almeda could tell, it had involved the navy somehow. In fact, if things didn't look up and give her a lead in Lekdera, she was going to head to one of the major spaceports and get in touch with some navy. Lekdera. She had hopes for this place. She knew that at the peak of Silver's career, he had had two top officers working with him, the three a formidable combination. His officers were a Mr. Turnbuckle, and a Mr. Scroop. Lekdera was home of the Mantavors—Scroop's race. She had it on good authority that this spot, The Emi's had been a frequent haunt.
The Emi's was outside of town, on yellowed turf, the small dilapidated buiding practically reeked of disreputability. Perfect.
Almeda, pushing open the oversized door, took in the dusky interior of the tavern. Hmm, plenty crowded. She noticed a small, rather weasly-looking Mantavor motioning her over.
"Okay," she thought, "Let's see what you know."
She slid to the bench opposite her contact and tilted her head, waiting.
"Got any cash?" the Mantavor asked, leaning forward. Ax exhaled through her nose and casually brought her lazer-flintlock out and pointed it at him in one smooth motion before he realized what she was doing.
"Got any guts to spill?" she asked. "Literary or figuratively speaking," she added with a laugh.
"Hey, hey!" the Mantavor rasped. "No need to get hasty," he said (rather, ah, hastily).
Almeda grinned and holstered her weapon. "Don't worry—don't plan on killing you. Just get talking and I'll pay up later."
"Well, be more careful," the Mantavor grumped, obviously miffed (as well as trying to act like he hadn't been worried).
"What do you know," Almeda asked, "About a voyage that the pirate Silver was on, two or three years ago? And none of that overblown idiocy that I've been hearing," she added quickly. "If you don't mind."
"Oh yes," the Mantavor said, obviously happy he did have information she wanted. "The expedition aboard the Legacy."
"What?" interjected Almeda. "That doesn't sound like a pirate ship."
The Mantavor smile and shook his head. "No. Navy."
Almeda leaned forward. "Navy?"
"Ex-navy, actually," the Mantavor corrected.
Almeda waited for him to go on.
The Mantavor rubbed its claw together, money. Almeda stifled a snarl and threw him the coppers.
The Mantavor bit one, pocket the rusty bits, and went on. "The Legacy was captained by the infamous Captain Amelia Smollet, or Amelia Doppler as she's known now. A navy loose-cannon upstart, quit on them to do her own thing."
Almeda shook her head. "Her own thing was an expedition with pirates?"
"No, the pirate bit was a hostile takeover."
"It worked?" Almeda asked. "I thought that captain was still in business."
The Mantavor shrugged and did his best to look mysterious. "That's the thing. Nobody that wasn't on that trip really knows what happened. People say it was a search for Flint's trove."
Almeda snorted and the Mantavor raised his hands. "Just telling you what they say. But Silver and his men went, along with a few ex-navy officers and supposedly a couple others. But no one knows what happened. They surely didn't return with a treasure. And the mutiny must not have succeeded because the captain came back."
Almeda leaned forward. "But so did Silver. How, exactly, did he convince the crew not to fight?"
The Mantavor answered: "Nobody knows. As far as I can tell, the only ones who returned were the captain, a scientist, a navigator, Silver, and a boy."
Almeda turned to him. "A boy? What was a child doing on that trip? Was he one of the pirates?"
"Nobody knows why," the Mantavor answered. "But, far as I can tell, he was no pirate. What I heard was that the captain, Miss Smollet herself, helped him into the Interstellar Academy."
Almeda leaned back, thinking. Flint's trove. But no treasure returned. Only a handful of men survived. A kid. She rubbed her temples. Was any of this connected to what she was looking for?
"Do you know the names of the surviving crewmembers?" asked Almeda.
The Mantavor grinned. "A bit of cold metal might jog my memory. Almeda briefly considered putting the barrel of her flintlock under his chin as a bit of cold metal. But instead she passed him several more coins.
"The captain married the scientist," the Mantavor said. "So he is named Doppler. The navigator doesn't have a name besides some . . . oh!" (he looked briefly frustrated) "Some nickname or somat. He was crazy."
Almeda paused, noticing her informant hadn't offered the name of the last crewmember.
"What," she asked. "Do you need more persuasive (or sterner) jogging?"
The Mantavor's face slid into a slow, mean smile. "Why these questions, ma'am?"
Almeda leaned forward, face cold. "Since when do you ask questions that don't concern you?"
The Mantavor's face still wore an infuriating grin. "Well, one wonders. Why do you want to know about them?"
"Why do I want to spill your guts on this floor?" Almeda asked.
The Mantavor shook his head mockingly.
"Go on and tell me," said Almeda. "If you're waiting for money then . . ."
"Hasty again," the Mantavor said. He prepared to go on, making her wait a bit.
Almeda tried to hide it, but she was chomping at the bits. If this worked, she would have at least three leads, three people who should know something. Or, she paused, or maybe . . . maybe she only needed one?
"The boy's name," said the Mantavor, studying the coins that made up his pay, "Is James Pleiades Hawkins."
Well, there you have it. Chapter two is up. I was thinking that I wouldn't post any more chapters until I got at least one review *coughs* But I changed my mind because I got the idea that at least one *coughety cough* person was reading this. I still might quit is someone doesn't *cough snark cough cough* review. Then again, I might. Also, sorry for how long this chapter was. I was trying to figure out just what Almeda would have to hear to get the idea that Jim is who to hunt down. I also noticed I wrote a lot of body-language in; sorry about this. I was visualizing the people talking while I wrote and I saw a lot of body-language in my head. Sorry if that bothers anyone. That is, if anyone *great big giant COUGH* is here.
Oh right, credits: Well, Lekdera is the Mantavors' (Scroop's race) home planet. The Emi's is named after me friend (Sillybobbit). Yup, I think that's it.
