Look at that ... it didn't take over a month to post a new chapter!

To the Guest Reviewer: No, I have not given up on this story. I am actually nearly done with it. We have two chapters and the epilogue. Life has just gotten a bit messy, so it's taking a bit longer to write.

Since Chapter Nine is the scene that gave me the whole idea for this story, it should be fairly easy to write ... I might have too much fun with it ... Sorry Amelia.

Chapter Eight
The Dreadful Dance of Conversation

Captain Amelia
The RLS Legacy – 1755

To say the slamming of the solid cabin door didn't disturb her was perhaps an understatement; if her mew of startlement wasn't any indicator. The book in her hands, that she had been staring blindly at, dropped to land on the floor before she had a chance to steel herself. Fortunately, the sound of its fall was drowned out by the kind-hearted Doctor literally leaping with startlement out of his mind's wonder and ending up sprawled on the floor. Amelia saw him soon cowered back at the tall, threatening presence that loomed through the doorway.

Amelia slipped her dexterous body from the bunk, giving herself a closer look at the treacherous crew member that had come to pay them a visit. Even before she saw, she knew exactly what member was beyond the door.

"It's time to go," Scroop hissed. His glowing, intimidating yellow eyes barely glanced at Doppler before they narrowed in her direction. Adjusting herself to carefully stand taller and straighten out her clothes.

"Ah … Mr. Scroop," she said. Arms moving to rest at the bottom of her spine. "I had wondered who'd Silver send down here to retrieve me."

"Well, you have no further need to wonder anymore." Scroop stepped into the room, obviously enjoying the power of being able to order her around on her own ship. "Hurry up, Captain. You wouldn't want to keep us waiting."

"My meeting is with Silver," said Amelia, ears lowering into her hair. "Not you."

There was a brief look of annoyance on Scroop's face. "And he is waiting for you. I recommend against further trying his patience … or mine."

"Um," Doppler spoke up, clearing his voice for volume first as he picked himself up from the floor. "Just what … what do you plan on doing?"

"That's … up to Silver," Scroop hissed while his eyes moved to glare at the wall, though Amelia detected a note of disapproval creeping into his tone.

She saw how Doppler shifted himself forward, closer to the sinister arachnoid. Was he trying to play back the act of intimidation? He wasn't very good at it – nobody could mistake his body language for anything other than fear, but there was something clearly driving him to do this despite it. Her lip tucked between her teeth, her muscles tightening, readying herself to move between the two if the situation called for it. Only Doppler would be stupid enough to try and face someone like Scroop with an act of physical strength … even if his heart was in the right place.

"Well, you'd better just tell him … tell him that if he-"

"If he what?" Scroop grinned as he stepped closer to Doppler, lifting his body on those spiderlike legs of his. Amelia shuffled a bit closer herself. "And what will you do? Fire us?"

Doppler let his jaw slack. His finger curled from its straight posture.

"Oh, yes, we know you're a rich pup … and maybe that'll be useful later on … but right now, you need to appreciate the fact that this is our ship now."

Amelia's ears had flicked up at 'useful later on' but she forced them to drop back into her hair by the time Scroop returned his baleful glare to her.

"Come on then, Captain … the boss is waitin' for you …"

"Yes, and I'm sure he'll want me to arrive safely," she said pointedly.

"Oh, I won't harm you," Scroop grinned unpleasantly. "But who knows … you might stumble and fall along the way, unless you hurry on."

Amelia gritted her clenched teeth. She was almost positive that Scroop wouldn't be that careless to do that to her, at least not so long as Silver was still in charge, but … almost wasn't entirely assured, and she reminded herself that her objective was to get into her cabin. After sharing an intense gaze with the arachnid's, Amelia straightened out her shoulders, hiding the stiff discomfort from her wounds, straightened out the borrowed shirt and stepped forward.

"There's a good kitten." Scroop's grin widened at the flaring heat in her eyes. "Come along now. You just stay here, rich man. She'll be back soon enough, if she behaves herself."

"Ame – Captain I-"

Doppler gave her one last glance, full of pleading, hope, sorrow … and something else … but she didn't trust herself enough to return it, not now, so she looked away to the door lest she expose any more vulnerabilities in front of the worthless pirate crew. It wasn't until she was barely passed the threshold of the oak doorframe that she hesitated in her step. She almost dared herself to turn back around and give Doppler a look of confidence, show him everything would be fine, but Amelia wasn't allowed to entertain that thought for long. Scroop was harsh in shoving her the rest of the way under the doorframe, she reached her hands out to brace herself against the opposite wall before hearing the door slam behind her. Her fingers curled against the paneled wall at the rumble of Scroop's chuckle. With a look of crossness, she turned herself away from the wall and began down the narrow hall; Scroops taller presence just behind her. Maintaining her air of authority, she turned her head just enough over her shoulder so her narrowed eyes could glare at Scroop.

"You know, if we're supposed to be in a hurry, you shouldn't be wasting your time threatening a fool like the doctor. He has nothing that you need, so just leave him be."

"On the contrary … he has money," sneered Scroop. Amelia heard her heel scrape against the planks of wooden floor when Scroop's arm blocked her way. "And … he is important to you. It's obvious."

Amelia bristled. Narrowing her eyes at the act of intimidating her before meeting his gaze. "He is protected by the same agreement that I am. You can't do anything to him."

"Your agreement, for what little it's worth … is with Silver. Not with me." Amelia watched his claw click as he opened and closed it near her cheek. "And that agreement will only hold so long as you cooperate. If you don't … if Silver's promises are empty …" The sharp tip of his claw began to dig into her jaw, but Amelia simply tilted her head, no sign of fear was given.

"Ah. Well, I suppose you've already committed one mutiny," pointed Amelia. "Another would hardly be a test of your character."

Scroop grinned nastily, putting just a bit more pressure against the line of her jaw before releasing her. Giving her a hard nudge in her upper back with his claw, knowing that it would cause great soreness. "I'd be moving faster now that we've stopped to have this chat. Wouldn't want to keep the new Captain waiting."

Amelia gritted her teeth, her sharp tongue caught between, and continued on her way down the hall; fingers curled in her palms. "I suppose you wouldn't want to disappoint Silver with this simple task, now, would you?"

Scroop made a hissing, gurgling sound from behind that Amelia needed a moment to recognize as a laugh. "Disappointing Silver … is what you should be worried about right now. If you don't give him what he needs … things might not go well for you."

Scroop, after finally shutting his triumphing mouth, guided her up the few steps, through the door and up onto the deck. She heard the door close behind her, but she didn't see it, instead her eyes quickly scanned about the ship. Observing and watching, a habit she would never break even if she was currently not the one in command. The winds rustled through her hair, carrying a coldness through the miniscule space between the threads of the shirt, making her fur stand slightly to attention. The deck was silent and nearly abandoned. Ropes and several other pieces of the ships working swayed in the direction of the breeze. The sails seeming to dance along to the whistled tune it created against the metal casing around the masts. Amelia saw the only other bodies about the deck were Meltdown and the duo, Oxy and Moron. Both leaned against the port railing, whispering to the other. Amelia shuffled forward, ready to remind them of their duty before it dawned on her. She held no power here. A fact that was further ingrained when the three caught her in their sights and grinned. Her look of disgust was enough to make them snicker.

"Keep moving." Scroop hissed behind her.

Claw grabbing hold of her shoulder to guide her across the deck and up the stairs to what Amelia still thought of as her stateroom. Scroop raised an arm once they both stopped before the door and Amelia expected him to knock, but instead he just opened the door – a gesture so disrespectful that it was unthinkable in the Royal Navy, and surely one a pirate captain would still insist upon?

"She's here, Captain Silver," Scroop hissed.

The chair behind the desk was turned to allow the occupant to gaze out of the gallery windows – a theatrical position and one Amelia suspected had been carefully staged. Silver seemed to have a … favor for playing the part needed at the time. She saw a cyborg arm wave languidly while she straightened out her shirt once more.

"Thank ye, Mr. Scroop," Silver's voice said. A cloud of smoke was blown into the cabin air, towards the windows. "Ye can leave us now. Do tell Mr. Hawkins t' be sure that our dinner be ready as I instructed."

"As you wish, Captain." Scroop bowed with exaggerated obedience and retreated, prodding Amelia across the threshold into the room before closing the door behind him. Amelia heard it click, and then stood in silence, waiting for Silver to make the first move. Eventually, he did so.

Amelia stood next to the small dining table, arms draped behind her back, rested atop her backside, and took in the sight of her stateroom since she last stepped foot into it this morning. A single word: Messy. The main clutter was all the paper and thicker parchment, rolled charts, and maps carelessly tossed to the floor. Some of her personal books and ones she kept from the academy had been pulled from their shelves to lay in a pile in the far-left corner just below the window. Most of her personal keepsakes, like her small collection of records, her mother's opal star, and her father's encased Medal of Honor, were left untouched from their place on the shelf.

The chair creaked under Silver's bulk when he finally turned around. He placed the tobacco pipe, an old, simple thing made of bogwood, atop the polished surface of her work desk, next to the brass container that held the tobacco itself.

"Ah, Cap'n," his face twisted into something like a slick smile. "There ye are."

"I don't believe I had much choice in the matter," said Amelia stiffly. "Now shall we dispense with the pleasantries and get down to the business at hand?"

"Once again, Cap'n, ye cut me t' the quick." Silver stood after a mock display of hurt and began walking around the desk. "I was just tryin' t' do ye due honours."

"After earlier?" Her brow quirked upwards. "I think your bridges are well and truly burned, Mr. Silver."

"I suppose ye're right." Silver waved a hand. "I hope ye don't expect me t' apologise for what ye had coming. And ye know why I had t' do it, too. The way ye were actin', in front of me crew …"

"Ah, yes … about that …" Amelia crossed her arms and shifted her weight to a hip. "Your Mr. Scroop there … you might want to keep your eye on him. He's a little too big for his boots, one might say."

"How so?" Silver's tone didn't contain the note of surprise Amelia had been expecting.

"He's a loose cannon. He enjoys certain aspects of his work a little too much, as I'm sure you've noticed. People like that … have ideas. About where they stand in the bigger picture of things. About their … ambitions."

Silver nodded slowly. "I think I understand your meaning."

"He doesn't approve of the deal you struck with young Hawkins." Amelia watched his face for any reaction. "He regards it very much as … your deal. Not as something that concerns him."

Silver's artificial eye flared red for a moment. "Ye just … leave Scroop t' me, Cap'n. He's not yer concern."

"He is if he makes himself one," said Amelia. "If he continues to threaten me … or the doctor … and you know that he and Mr. Hawkins haven't seen eye-to-eye since the beginning."

"Yer point is well made, Cap'n." Silver said. "When we arrive at the planet … I'll make sure Scroop ain't anywhere near ye. Does that address yer concern?"

"It'll do … for now." Amelia nodded, "Well. That's one item of business transacted."

"Aye, it is. But to return t' the … pleasantries for a moment." Silver smiled and turned to gesture with his hand at the sideboard where her silver kettle and tea set were placed. "They may not seem much to ye, but my crew aren't really the sort for such things. Pleasantries, as ye'd call 'em. Allow me one grace – a moment just t' talk."

He kept his arm outstretch after he finished speaking. Amelia, after a second of wavering, took her cue. There was no point in refusing the invitation and she crossed the room to prepare herself a welcoming cup of tea. Behind her, she heard the chair – her chair – creaking again as Silver returned to it, reclining, hands behind his head as he spoke in a conversational tone.

"D'ya know the story of how I came t' be on the trail of this map and the treasure it leads t'?"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Let me guess," she practically slammed the kettle back onto the base, "this is the part where you tell me that this isn't personal and then regale me with the tragic and weepy tale of your disadvantaged life. Work me over so I start to feel sorry for you and decide that maybe you aren't so bad. That I should in fact be helping you fulfil your truly-held ambition?"

Silver laughed. Loud and deep, like he was using his instinctive. Amelia turned her body back to face him as he stood, hands gripped about the lip of the counter to her cupboards. "Why, certainly not, Cap'n! As if I'd think such a cheap trick'd work on the likes of yer cold heart. No, this is the part where I emphasise why I will keep hurting ye until what I'm looking for is mine. I don't expect it t' make ye like me. But I do hope it'll show ye why playing games with me is a surefire way t' lose and get ye put back up against that mast."

Amelia stiffened at the memory. The feeling of that cane. The unbearable burning. The agony of her fur and skin splitting open. Her hands reached behind her, slowly inching around the flattop for the small knife that lay with the tea set.

"Silver if you-"

"And as for this not being personal," Silver fixed her with a glowing eye, stepped far too close in her proximity to where she could smell his horrid scent, "I will do what I have t' do t' get me treasure. And anyone who gets in the way of that is me enemy. So if ye get in my way, then by all the stars, this will be personal, Captain."

Silver's much larger, mechanical extremities grabbed her forearm just as her long, slender fingers gripped around the polished handle of the knife. He jerked her arm around to bring it before them both. The extremely lose fabric of her sleeve was bunched in his grasp. The silver of the knife reflected off the several flames of candlelight scattered about her cabin. Amelia felt the cold metal scrape around her slim arm, tightening its hold, but she didn't dare show any ounce of discomfort.

"I do hope this wasn't intended for me," Silver inched his features closer, until his large nose nearly brushed her own, "if it were, then we might have a serious problem."

"Not as serious a problem you'll have if you don't get the map out of me. How else do you expect to find the-"

His brows lowered, making his eyes near slits. The cyborg ogle faded into its bloody red, indicating Silver was threading on a dangerous level of anger. The grip he had around her arm tightened, effectively silencing her words. The bones beneath her fur protested against the harsh pressure, but still, Amelia forced herself to remain passive in her expressions.

"Ye seem t' have it in your mind that ye still hold power here, Captain. Have ye forgotten? Need a fresh reminder?"

Amelia was pulled closer. Silver's taller and larger frame at an advantage to loom over her own. Never before had she felt so small, so helpless to defend herself. Don't do anything rash. Don't do anything rash.

"Mindless feline, can't ye realise? See the truth right before yer eyes? This ship, the lad, the good doc … and yer fine self, are all under my protection. This vessel is me command now, and ye are not the Captain anymore. There are far worse things that could be done t' ye three than what I have shown."

Amelia found her blood slowly turning to ice as it flowed through her. If it were possible, Silver got even closer to her. She could feel his stomach touch her own. Her arm was pulled higher, above her head, and the action made her mew quietly, not from the increasingly tight hold but from the stretching of her wounded back.

"Ye're a mantabird … trying to show the strength of a Zaftwing. Yer wings are made of paper-skin not scales, my dear. This world wasn't created equal, Captain, some things are just stronger, more powerful, than others."

"Yes, the world was intended to be created equal." She spat. "Then someone decided they were better and used manipulation, petty threats, and violence to make others cower before them."

"Just like ye are in this moment. Now." Silver squeezed his cold, metal fingers around her arm, twisting sharply to lock it in place, preventing her from pulling it free, "Drop. The. Knife."

Despite her force of will, Amelia could feel tears of pain trying to build up behind her eyes, but she steeled herself against them. Anger, tempered by sheer resolve, gave her the strength to deny them. Silver would not see her weakened like that again.

At the near same time her fingers relaxed their grip around the dinner utensil, the door to her stateroom opened to allow the familiar body of Mr. Hawkins through with a small cart. Amelia dared her gaze to turn away from the looming pirate captain to the young teen who froze just passed the threshold. His usual withdrawn eyes went just a bit larger at the sight of Silver and hers position, gliding to and from before compressing his fingers around the cart and opening his mouth to speak.

"Ye can just set the food on the table, Jimbo." Silver spoke without looking away from Amelia.

"Um … Captain, are-"

"The good Captain and I are just having a talk, nothing t' worry over." Silver stood himself tall as he finally turned to the young teen. "Now … the dinner, lad."

Hawkins looked torn on what he wanted to say or do, but after he found her eyes, a sight of calmness, that she wasn't afraid, he seemed to fall back and move beside the table. With Silver's metal fingers still wrapped about her forearm, she was forced to walk in front of Silver towards the closest chair; the one near the cabin door. The legs cried against the floor. Amelia's forearm was released, her shoulder grabbed, and pressure made her body plop down. She didn't bother to glare at Silver for Hawkins was already doing it as he placed the food items from the small cart to the table. The cutlery clanked against each other as Hawkins placed them down.

Amelia cocked a brow at the sight of each food dish placed in the empty space of the table between Silver and her. A small bowl of sautéed asparagus. Stove-baked, salted potatoes which had been cut into near-squares. There was a bowl of salad, really a lump of rehydrated lettuce dressed with sliced carrots, onions, and tossed with the dressing and croutons. Of course, it wouldn't be a meal aboard a ship without the rolls. A block of bread hard as a rock one could break their teeth on if brave enough to bite on without thought. But what really caught Amelia's attention was the steam-cooked lunar salmon in the center of it all.

"Spend a bit of time fishing around the asteroids, did we?"

Silver smirked but gave her no answer as he went about digging through her personal sideboard of spirits. The many wines and few stronger drinks she had collected over her years of sailing across the Empire. She listened to the bottles rattle against each other as Silver pushed them about, looking for something he no doubt wanted to gulp down. Hawkins looked in her direction while he poured water in the glass.

"Silver made me catch it." He spoke softly. "Wanted something fresh to eat for the meal … sorry, if it's not too tasty."

"Not to worry yourself, Mr. Hawkins." Amelia reassured with a wave of her hand, as she eyed the finer table settings placed before her. The white plate decorated with the Empire's naval seal and bordered with the familiar twisting vines of green and gold. "I see you are taking advantage of the Legacy's finest, Mr. Silver. The food, my finer plate settings, and of course, one of my personal epochs."

Silver chuckled, opening the barely downed bottle of Pinot Noir, a gift from Arrow earlier in the year. "Waste not, Cap'n. I thought tonight would require a certain … atmosphere."

"Atmosphere ..." Hawkins voice was low, but still audible to their ears.

"Don't ye have a deck t' swab, lad?" Questioned Silver. "Dishes t' scrub? A crew t' feed? Off with ye now."

Her ear flicked in the direction of young Hawkins halfway out the door from the faint scoff he gave before closing the door. She watched Silver carefully pour not only himself a glass of the ruby-colored liquid in silence. Once he returned the glass back to her, Silver stood next to his own and tipped the bottle.

"Again … your efforts are wasted, Silver. You cannot repair the burns of wrongdoings."

"Again, Cap'n … let us just enjoy the pleasantries shall we." Silver's bulk settled into the chair opposite of her, still pouring the wine into the glass, only stopping when the liquid nearly reached the lip. Amelia gave him a rather clear look of displeasure, reached over to push the one he filled for her away from herself, then moved from her seat to gather her cup of tea. Silver was watching her closely, the mechanics of his cyborg eye moved to study every association of her body. From the way her arm reached out to grab the heated mug, to the way her fingers tucked hair behind her ear, even as she made her way back to her chair.

Amelia sat back with her arms crossed just beneath her breasts and met his laser stare unflinchingly. "Well, then," she started, "go on. Say your piece, Silver. Gale me with your tale."

Silver studied her for just a moment longer. Grab the overly filled glass of wine and began to speak.

"Ye and I, Cap'n … we come from different backgrounds." Silver took a long drink, nearly half the wine disappeared. "I wasn't born and brought up in a family life like ye. I lived in poverty, struggling just t' have one meal a day. My mother was murdered, and my father drank himself into his grave. I was orphaned before I turned six. I didn't have a roof over my head. I had the streets, filled with thieves and corrupt police. I lived each day wondering if it would be me last, sometimes I wished for it t' be. Each day was a test of survival, learning a new skill just t' keep food in me stomach. But I quickly found ways t' get people t' like me. Using me wits and charms."

Amelia rolled her eyes at the smile he shot her way, but that only brought about a chuckle.

"One night, in a tavern, I heard a group of men, merchant sailors, telling tales of their travels across the Etherium. I found meself attracted t' the thrill of adventure, wanting it for meself, t' experience the unknown factor one faces in space. So, I talked meself aboard their ship. I learned many things. Saw many things. Experienced many things. It wasn't until the night I heard the tale of Captain Flint and his secret trove: The loot of a thousand worlds. I wanted t' find it. I wanted t' be the man who could claim that unfindable treasure. Over time, I found meself surrounded by pirates, working, and keeping t' a code of only looking out for meself. Eventually, I worked me way up t' Pirate Captain. I spent years following clues and stories about Flint's treasure. Sailing the Etherium, putting the pieces together, and following trails that often-led t' nothing … until we learned of an old salamander named, Billy Bones. Me crew and I came close t' having that map in hand several times, but that slippery bastard always managed t' escape us. It was in pursuit of that old creature that I lost parts of me body. Me leg … me arm … me eye … and me ear. Ye can guess that we lost him for a while after I gained these," he pointed out the mechanical replacements, "It took time, but we tracked him down t' the rundown, mining planet of Montressor. And, well, ye know the rest, Cap'n. Jimbo learns it be the map t' Treasure Planet and the good doc hires us t' crew yer fine vessel."

Silver finished off the glass of wine, moving to pour more as he gathered food on the ends of his fork. Amelia leaned forward, allowing a finger to leisurely circle about the lip of her wine glass.

"So, tell me," started Amelia. "Let's say we find the treasure. The legendary loot of a thousand worlds. What, precisely, do you plan to do with it? More money than anyone could spend in a lifetime?"

"Me?" Silver looked surprised. "Why, Cap'n, I plan t' retire. Just me, on my own private asteroid, with all the rum, women and song I could want."

Amelia cocked an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised by his answer. "Is that really what it's all for? I'm a little disappointed. Perhaps I'd expected such … crudity from your merry band, but a leader should have a greater appreciation of things."

"Is that so?" Silver sat back against the chair with his fingers locked together rested atop his rounded stomach. "Well … then how about some fame t' go with the fortune? Me, John Silver, the man who discovered Flint's trove? They'd be flocking from all over t' see me, crowding taverns t' hear the tales of my conquest. Positively bowin' in the streets as I walked by."

"Yes, I can see the superficial appeal to some of that," said Amelia. Stabbing her fork into the potatoes and asparagus, hearing the ends lightly scrape against the decorated white porcelain. "But … I suspect that you'd want to find it even without all that. Because of the challenge. Because it's there, as they say about mountains. Because of the time and effort you've spent on it, the body parts and pain you've sacrificed. And … because you're too foolish to recognize a sunk cost when you see one."

"Or rather," Silver's voice cooed. "I recognize that every man needs … a legacy. An appropriate title at that, given the name of this ship."

"A legacy?" Amelia couldn't quite keep the surprise out of her voice.

"See, I've no children of my own," Silver stated. "Leastways, none as would acknowledge me as their father. When I'm gone, as surely I will be one day, what'll I leave behind?"

"I wouldn't have thought that pirates would have much time for such thinking," Amelia released her fork from her grasp. Watching as it remained upright and buried within the potato. "Not given the lives you live. Nasty, brutish … usually, short."

Silver's brow twitched upwards with a grudgingly smile from across the table. "Ye're quite the charmer, aren't ye? Here ye are, at my disposal, and ye're still giving me that kind of lip. I'd prefer a woman use her lips for other purposes."

"I'm at nobody's disposal," Amelia flashed her teeth. "If you think you can somehow take advantage of me tonight you-"

Silver raised his hands. "No, I wouldn't dream of it, Cap'n. Aside from anything else, I don't think young Jim would like that. The kid seems t' hold ye and the doc in a caring regard."

"And you care what he thinks?"

Silver blinked, and Amelia wondered whether there'd been something hidden behind it. "I need that whelp t' open the map sphere, wherever ye've hidden it."

"You think your … legacy is going to matter to him?"

"No. But yer survival might. Yers, and the good doctors." Silver sat back in his chair again, making the wood creak under his bulk. "Ye don't seem t' think I'm serious about that legacy bit, do ye?"

Amelia crossed her arms over her stomach. "Let's just say that it's not the legacy I'd aim for."

"But ye do aim for a legacy, don't ye, Captain?" probed Silver. "Ye've no children of your own … not that that's a surprise. So, what is it ye do with yer life?"

"I serve," she answered simply. "Something greater than myself. I don't expect someone so simple minded, such as you, to understand."

"Ah, yes." Silver spread his arms in gesture. "The Empire. The Navy. The Queen. All of that. Yes." Amelia watched his fingers slip between the folds of his chin. "So yer legacy is a future for the Empire."

"I suppose you could put it like that."

"And t' that end … ye'd fight? Ye'd hurt yer enemies? Ye'd kill?"

"I have killed. It goes with the job."

"So it does." Silver nodded. "So that's what ye'd do for the legacy ye'd want. Can ye see why I'd do the same for mine?"

"Don't you dare compare our motivations," Amelia curled her lip contemptuously. Her fingers coiling into the fabric of her shirt about her waist.

"Oh. I'm not." Silver shrugged before he leaned forward to push the chair back. The legs scraping against the polished timber of oakwood. "Just our commitment. Think of what ye'd do t' fulfil yer ambition … yer duty, as ye'd call it." Silver began making his way towards her side of the short length of table. "Ye'd hurt me, wouldn't ye? Ye'd," he found himself behind her chair, fingers wrapped around the backrest as he leaned forward to whisper next to her ear, "kill me?"

Amelia looked him square in the eye with the mirror's reflection hanging on the wall across from her. "Yes."

"I'm glad ye understand." Silver stood straight again, but his hands didn't move from around the chair. "So. Now that ye appreciate where I'm coming from, let's talk." Amelia watched his eyes narrow at her through the mirror. "Where's the map, Captain?"

Amelia sat up straighter. "You mean to tell me you haven't found it yet?"

The anger that twisted Silver's features in the reflection was soon replaced by the real image. The chair she sat in was pulled back and twisted to face Silver's direction. She heard the backrest smack against the tables edge when he leaned the chair on its hind legs.

"I'm trying t' have a serious conversation with ye, Cap'n. Civil. Calm." He towered himself over her. His hands rested on the tables surface, effectively trapping her in that chair.

Amelia met his hard gaze without an ounce of fear. Lifting her head to bring it closer, challengingly. "And I'm trying to subtly avoid it." She hissed.

"Ye're testing my patients. Either ye tell me where that map is or-"

"Or what? What are you going to do, Silver? You can't kill me, unless you want Mr. Hawkins to keep that map sphere closed forever. You can torture me if you like, but it won't do you any good either. I've been trained and polished in that area. It would be a worthless effort."

Silver's hand went for her neck. His grip wasn't nearly as tight as it had been earlier that morning, but the touch of his fingers against the damaged muscles and forming bruises was enough to make her shoulders tense.

"Ye think yer life is safe because of the young, naïve lad." Silver chuckled. "Even if I do away with ye and believe me it is tempting from the lip ye've given me, I still have the good doc down below. Him and Jimbo have a much stronger … bond than he and ye do, Cap'n."

Amelia, without thought, tried to push herself from the chair. "You touch Doctor Doppler I'll-"

"Ye'll what, Cap'n? What can ye do t' stop me?" Silver pushed her back into the chair. "Me crew runs this ship. Ye'll be ended before ye can make a single move."

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "You kill me, Silver, you will never see that map."

"I'm sure I'll find it without ye. Perhaps ye told that coward of a Canid where ye've hidden it." She felt his fingers begin to tighten around her throat.

"Let me tell you this, right now," Amelia grabbed his bulky forearm, digging her claws into the sleeve of his black coat, "you can tear this ship apart, plank by plank, but without me, you will never again see that map sphere."

Silver narrowed his eyes. Tightening his hold some more. "Ye're bluffing, Captain."

"Look me in the eye and tell me that I'm bluffing, Silver."

Amelia matched her own stare to the heated one of Silver's. Holding her ground against the larger pirate captain. His hand around her bruised neck, keeping her stationed in the dining table chair with nowhere to go. But she could see the gears turning in his head. Weighing his options. Weighing if she was lying about her threat. She kept her green irises locked to his remaining darkest brown one - or where they black like his heart? – making sure he knew she wasn't faltering or lying about her threat.

Then Silver relaxed his face. His lips lifted in a smirk. The red of his cyborg eye returned to its familiar gold. His hand removed from around her slender neck and he disconnected himself from her proximity. She instantly placed her chair back on all four legs. Her hands gripping around the seat, only allowing her head to turn and watch Silver make his way towards the gallery window. Arms wrapped around his back, resting at the bottom of his spine, gaze locked beyond the paneled glass.

Amelia pushed herself up from the chair. "I'm prepared to offer you a deal, Silver."

"A bargain, eh?" His brow arched in the windows reflection, but he made no move to turn to her. "Me attention is yer's."

"You want to know where the map is. I have terms."

Silver lifted his arm to allow his smallest finger to twist within his ear. Amelia twisted her lips in disgust when he flicked away whatever he had dug out, leaving it somewhere on her stateroom floor. "The terms being?"

Amelia composed herself in a familiar stance. Shoulders as squared as she could without pain. Head held high. Arms wrapped behind her back. With a deep breath … she opened her mouth.

"Upon your word of no more mistreatment to myself, Doctor Doppler, or Mr. Hawkins, and the solid pirates code of honouring a bargain, you will allow Doctor Doppler, Mr. Hawkins, and myself to depart from your crew and yourself without the looming threat of death once your treasure is in sight. If you agree to these terms, I swear upon my father's honour that when we reach Treasure Planet, I will hand you the map sphere myself. No tricks. No rug-pulling. No secret scheming."

Silver was quiet for a few moments too long. His stance did not change, nor did the reflection of his features. Amelia hated that it made her nervous. She hadn't lied when she told Doppler they had cards to play, and that they wouldn't use them all at once, but this one she just laid out before Silver was their best chance of getting back home to Crescentia alive. Her muscles clenched when she heard his lips smack together.

"And just how am I t' be sure ye'll keep t' yer end of the bargain, Cap'n? If I agree t' this, what security do I have that ye'll keep t' it?"

Amelia shrugged despite the fact Silver couldn't really see her do it. "I suppose you'll just have to trust me."

"Or," Silver turned his head, "ye agree t' a term of me own."

Amelia felt her heart leap and her breath intake struggle into her lungs. "You have my word of security that you will have the map sphere upon reaching the planet … what more could you possibly desire?"

Silver finally turned around to face her again. A sly smirk and a twinkle in his eye. "If ye are serious about this bargain … how about proving ye are."

Amelia arched her brow with skepticism. "Proving … how?"

If possible, his smile got larger, more of a grin, as he stepped closer to her frame. His eyes looking out the window again as if checking something. "Tis a fine night for a hot bath," stated Silver, "don't ye think … Captain?"

Amelia felt herself take a small step back, her heel tapping against one of the chairs legs hard enough to move it against the floor. "A … bath? Yes, you could do with one …"

There was a gleam to his eyes when he turned his sights back in her direction. "Oh, Captain … it is not me who I'd be referring to."