Disclaimer: I don't own Treasure Planet. Ah, that's it.

                        AN: Here's chapter three! Boo-ya! *coughs* just had to say that. You know, I saw that guy Dave (or something like that) on Survivor say it and I've just always wanted. Anyway, just so I can say you've been warned, I'm about to go CSI (favourite show ever!) on you. Maybe I'm just squeamish, but I think the murder scene is pretty gruesome. So, um, you've been warned. I'm done with the warning now. Get on with the emotion of reading!

                        !~ Shout to ElvenRanger, aka Beta-reading dude!~!

Chapter Three- Venkar and Zione

                        When Alyson managed to get out of the ferry docks after being pushed and flattened by all the other taller and stronger passengers, she wasn't surprised to see the artificial sun shining on the Montresser Space Port.
            Alyson frowned with annoyance. Why was it always hot on the space port and rainy on Montresser? Couldn't they possibly switch weather patterns every once in a while?
            Shaking her head, Alyson walked down the crowded marketplace to the large, brown building looming in the distance. Its demeanor was a little intimidating because it was so large, but for Alyson it had been home to her for almost all her life, so to her it looked as normal as a house would to another person.
            Alyson could not stop a grin and hurried to the Academy. Under her arm was her cloak, which she had taken off because it had gotten soaking wet on Montresser. She was wearing her Academy robes, but because she was used wearing pants and shorts for past six months, she hadn't been able to resist pulling on a pair of shorts under her robes.     Though Alyson had always been comfortable in her robes, when she had put them on after six months without them, the thought of wearing them made her feel a little uncomfortable.
            Two guards stood at the large, double-doors of the Academy. They recognized Alyson instantly and pushed the doors open for her. As she walked into the Academy, she found herself staring at them. She couldn't remember a time when there had ever been guards at the doors of the Academy. So why were they there now?
            Oh yes, Alyson realized. The Elders probably tightened security after the death of the professors. The thought of the dead professors made Alyson frown. She wondered if Seymour knew. She thought he probably did and she wondered how he had taken the news. Seymour may have been an older man, but he wasn't that old and he had always been a ladies' man. Though she knew their affair had ended years ago, she remembered that Seymour and Professor Ginger Mores had had an long romantic affair. Alyson was sure that even after they had broken up, they had remained good friends.
            Alyson walked down the marble halls of the Academy and sighed with the feeling of happiness. Though she was happy with her life with Jim in the Benbow Inn, it felt good to be back in her childhood home. It felt even better to be back doing the things she loved to do. Exploring ruins.
            "Alyson!" Cried a voice, and she found herself turning to answer it. A smile appeared on her face as Seymour ran down the halls to meet her. He was wearing his robes as well and had papers tucked under his arms.
            "'Lo, Professor." Alyson said a moment before Seymour grabbed her and gave her a fierce hug. Alyson happily returned it.
            "You're here earlier then expected." Seymour said with a laugh in his voice.
            Alyson shrugged, "Jim wasn't too happy about my going here, so I decided to get here as quick as I could before he could tie me up."
            Seymour's face dropped, his eyes shadowed, "He must be worried about you because of the murders of the Academy professors. When I heard about them, I wondered if I should postpone out trip to Venkar."
            Alyson gave Seymour a sour look. "Don't you start, too. Jim is just being paranoid. I have no connection to Project Space-Twister, so why would I be in any danger?"
            Seymour still frowned but he said, "Come, sit with me and talk. We've got some time before we have to get on our ship."
Alyson nodded. She looked forward to talking with the closest thing to a father she had ever known. Even if she suspected they'd be talking about the murders, it would be good to hear Seymour's voice again.

            Alyson and Seymour took a seat on a bench in the open courtyard of the Academy. Alyson smiled and couldn't resist dragging her feet along the green, lush grass that was kept perfectly by workers for the Academy.
            Alyson smiled happily at the floor as if to say, hello, I'm back. It was felt so good to be back in the Academy. Even though she hated teaching, she loved her childhood. And her childhood was here, in this place.
            But when she looked up at Seymour, she saw that his eyes were haunted and shadowed. Alyson sighed and leaned back against the wood of the bench. The happy feeling was gone now, replaced by grief for Seymour's unhappiness.
            "I'm sorry about Professor Mores, Professor." She said quietly, taking his hand. "I know you and she were good friends."
            "We were very good friends." Seymour agreed, staring off into the distance. "And we had some good times together."
            Determined to make Seymour smile, Alyson mumbled, "Professor, I really don't want to imagine you having sex with anyone."
            Seymour did turn to Alyson and she saw a ghost of a smile cross his face, "How do you think I feel about you and Jim?" he asked.
            Alyson laughed, though it sounded forced. "Well...you know...it's different! Jim and I are...well, we're married, and...and young and you're, well...not."
            Seymour raised an eyebrow, "So, what you're saying is that I have to be young and married to enjoy the company of the opposite sex?"
            Alyson shook her head and flushed, "No, that's not what I mean. Well, I mean it like that a little. I just don't like to think of you...like that."
            Seymour chuckled and he watched as Alyson gave him a cautious smile. I'm depressing her; Seymour realized and cursed himself. "Then let's not talk about it anymore. Let's go get me packed and ready to go, okay?"
            Alyson hopped off the bench and said, "You haven't packed yet? Professor, I'm surprised. You're usually ready for something like this a week before you leave."
            Seymour shrugged. "I've been busy and haven't had the time to pack. Since we're leaving in about an hour, would you mind helping me?"
            Alyson quirked an eyebrow and smiled. "Sure," she said with a shrug. "I've already played house-wife for Jim for six months. Another hour won't kill me."
            Seymour chucked and stood. He looped an arm around Alyson's shoulders and they walked back into the Academy.

            "We're ready to shove off, Captain." Rochester told Jim as a heavy rain beat down on their heads.
            Jim growled and dragged his coat tighter over his head, "Do it, then." He muttered, scowling darkly. He shivered from the cold. "I want to get off this planet."
            "Aye, aye, Captain." Rochester said, and turned to the crew of the Fate. The ship began to hum with life. Jim sighed and glared at the muddy ground of Montresser.
            A few feet away, BEN muttered to himself about navigations and how he was probably going to get shot by some pirate.
            Trying to relax, Jim rubbed the pink glob of an animal in his hands. Morph cooed at him. Jim looked down at the shifter thoughtfully. Ever since his and Alyson's marriage, Morph had disappeared. Jim hadn't been too worried, because the pink shifter often went off on his own when Jim wasn't on a mission, but he did wonder what Morph did from time to time. Jim, of course, knew better than to ask Morph, since he would never get an answer. It was one of the few things Morph wouldn't even hint about.
            "You ready for this, Morph?" Jim asked absently. Morph slid between Jim fingers and floated to look him in the eye. Morph smiled and nodded.
            Jim felt himself grin. Now that he was back on his ship and back in the suit of a Spacer, Jim felt his worries leave him. Soon he would be in the air and flying. The thought of the space-wind ruffling his hair and the cool air blasting into his face made a genuine smile appear on his lips.
            Jim drew in a breath and closed his eyes, already feeling it. The freedom of space had been what had first drawn him into captaincy. When the Academy had first asked him to help them track down criminals, Jim had been young and full of ideas of heroics. He had truly thought he could fight all the evils of the universe on his own; but after his failure at Raeford he finally realized how tired he was of doing this, though he didn't have it in him to quit. After all the pirates and criminals he had brought in to face justice he had become a hero, and he didn't want to destroy the respect people had for him.
Morph frowned at Jim as his eyes became dark and clouded. A sure sign he brooding over something. Being the good-natured creature he was, Morph leaned forward and pressed his gooey body against Jim's cheek.
            Jim chuckled and captured Morph in his hands once, "Okay, okay. I'm done brooding." He assured Morph. He stood from his chair and looked down at his big, black-boots. It felt good to be back in his Spacer uniform. With a smirk Jim ran his hand down the white cotton material of his buttoned jacket. The Medals of Honor he carried on the side of his jacket snagged against his wedding ring.
            Jim grinned and held his hand out in front of him to inspect his wedding ring. It was still hard to believe that he was no longer a bachelor. A year ago if you had told him that he, Jim Hawkins, would be married he would've laughed and probably advised you to see a doctor, but now...well, now he was married.
            Jim laughed when he remembered the field-day the press had had about his wedding. "James Hawkins Marries Young Professor of Ruins" the headlines had read. The press had found it hard to believe that he was finally settling down with a wife. The press had always idealized Jim as the forever-bachelor. He had been called the fifth hottest single man only a year ago. But then he had married and bachelorhood was over. The press went crazy when they found out Alyson and Jim had eloped. Both he and Alyson had wanted to have a quiet wedding, without a ton of vid-recorders and reporters jeering questions at them. So they had picked their closest friends, along with Sarah and Seymour, and had gone off to a small, remote planet and gotten married. It was fun to remember that a week after they returned from their honeymoon an editor from a news-group had called the Benbow via vid-screen sobbing about the loss of a priceless story.
Jim shook his head and looked over at the crew, "SHOVE OFF!" He roared and a whoop from his crew told him that they were just as ready as he was to get back into space.

                        Alyson walked along the deck of the R.L.S. Space-Hopper with a slight scowl marring her pretty face.
            What was making Alyson so unhappy was the captain of the ship. It wasn't because he grated on her nerves. In fact, it was because he was so damn polite! He offered her smiles and agreed to do anything she asked. Alyson had been hoping for a captain a bit like Jim.
            And he certainly didn't look anything like Jim. Captain Richard Sanders had military-short sandy blonde hair and dreamy, hazel eyes. He was lanky and very tall. Despite his tallness, he looked like a pushover to Alyson. He was a very nice person who didn't have a quick temper or quick wit. It made Alyson want to demand a better captain.
            "I've been spending too much time around Jim." Alyson mumbled to herself, "I'm actually expecting the hired-help to put up a fight about my orders?"
            Seymour was talking to Captain Sanders when Alyson turned to the control deck. Alyson sighed and walked up to the two men. Seymour grinned at her and Captain Sanders offered her a polite smile.
            Alyson gritted her teeth in annoyance. All Captain Sanders had said to her in the past hour was yes ma'am, you're looking lovely today, and I hope you enjoy your ride. All Alyson could think was: thank God I only have to be here for a few hours. Not even a day.
            Venkar was close to Montresser and its space port. In fact, it was the closest planet to Montresser. Venkar was a very dark planet since it had no artificial sun to give it light. The planet was brown and dead. It was filled with bones of ancient people and villages. It was a gold-mine for a professor of ruins but an eye-sore for a passerby. It just looked dead and it was depressing to look at it.
            But to Alyson it was beautiful. Not many people knew that the final battle of the Acnem War was waged there or that the Gigadifs, the race who started the war, left all their ancient artifacts there. There was so much history there it could make your mind spin. When Alyson had first gone to Venkar with Seymour, her head had certainly spun.
            "How long until we're at Venkar, Captain Sanders?" Alyson asked politely.
            Captain Sanders smiled and said, "About six hours, ma'am."
            Alyson nodded and turned away with a silent huff of annoyance. She'd give anything to have Jim take her to Venkar so she could argue with him, kiss him and make love to him. Alyson shook her head. In six hours, she told herself, she'd be on Venkar, then a week later she would be returning to Benbow, and finally about a week after that Jim would get back and she could kiss him.
            "Ma'am!" Captain Sanders called, "Would you like to look at the map?"
As the polite tone floated in her ears, Alyson's hands clenched into fists. Only six more hours, she told herself, and I'll be on Venkar. Six hours.
            I miss Jim, she thought grimly.

                        Jim reached Zione seven hours later.
            As the Fate docked at Zione's port, Jim glowered. Though there wasn't much to Zione, it did carry an air of bad feelings. There were only three building on the asphalt covered ground of Zione. One was a two-story bar, the other was a small paper-manufacturing business and the last was a ship business. Everything else was overrun with trees and weeds.
            Jim's crewmembers lowered the gangplank and Jim ordered half of the crew to stay on board and maintain the ship, the other half was to follow him onto Zione. That half included BEN and Morph.
            As Jim, BEN, Morph and the other crewmembers walked down the gangplank connected the side of the docks to the Fate, Jim's noise crinkled in disgust. The heavy smell of bad booze and decaying garbage was thick in the air. Jim felt Morph cringe against his shoulder and he knew the shifter could smell it, too.
            "I've always hated it here." Rochester muttered at Jim's side, "It always smells bad and no one here is at all pleasant. You can always feel someone watching you."
            Jim knew what Rochester was talking about. He had been here five times and every time he could always feel the hairs on his neck rise as if someone was watching him. Jim hated coming here, but it always had the best information on pirates since it was a local hang-out for some of them. It may have been disgusting but it carried a lot of useful information.
            "Come on, boys." Jim mumbled, "Let's get this over with."
            They walked down the badly put together roads. The street lights that were supposed to have been glowing, flickered with an impending blowout. Most of the lights had been punched out casting long shadows on the ground. Not a sound rose around them, not a birdcall or animal call, only eerie silence could be heard. Zione was manmade so it didn't have any animals on it. If there had been animals Jim was sure they would've been killed off by the ruffians that lived here.
            They made it to the pub within five minutes. A decaying sign besides the building proclaimed the name, Cutthroat's Curve. Jim frowned at the sign; it was a very good name for the place. The building was made of brown and moldy stones and was only two-stories high. Five stone steps let to the brown door. The railing along the steps was black and rusty-looking. Jim was sure that if he applied to much pressure to the railing it would break away from the stairs
            Jim and his crew started up the stairs to the door. Almost wincing as he did, Jim pounded on the door. He had only been to this pub a few times and knew the owner was not a man you would want to meet in a dark alley for two reasons.
            The owner, McGee, opened the door and sent it slamming against the wall inside the pub. McGee was a big man, but he wasn't fat. His arms were muscle and they pushed out of his raggedy shirt. He was a good foot taller then Jim which made him about 7-foot-9. His face was craggy and his hair mouse brown. His eyes were almost black and they measured Jim as if they could read his mind.
            "You finally here!" McGee was in a gruff voice, "'Bout time. You know how bad you put off me business? Boy, I ada smack the lot of ya."
            He may be strong and tough looking, Jim thought, but he wasn't too bright.
            "Sorry, I only got word about the murders two days ago." Jim said, deciding to be polite. He may be a lot smarter the McGee, but the bar owner could still squash him like bug and from the look on his face he was tempted to do just that.
            McGee grunted and moved from the doorway. Jim and his crew walked in cautiously. The inside of the bar was a little different from the outside. The bar, a long table in front of an area of cabinet stacked with bottles of beer, was in the back of the room with black chairs propped against it. Small, square brown tables were everywhere in the room. Off to the side of the bar was a poor excuse for a music-producer. It looked to be on its final legs and could give out any moment.
            McGee walked around his bar with a shake of his head. Jim found himself amazed at how easy McGee could maneuver around the tables with his bulk.
            "Those professors were none too smart to come around here lookin' for trouble when there was a party. I coulda told ya they be killed." McGee walked behind the bar and reached behind the table. He pulled out a gold key and threw it to Jim. Automatically Jim caught it and fingered it.
            "Is this key to where the professors' bodies are?" Jim questioned, looking over the key.
            McGee nodded, "They in the first room on the left. I ain't been in it since the first time. Gory sight to see, ya know? Blood be everywhere."
            Jim didn't say anything, instead he turned to his crew, "Stay here." He ordered and glanced over at McGee. When Jim was sure McGee couldn't hear him, he said, "And don't drink or eat anything, okay? I'm not to sure about this place."
            Jim turned and made his way to the stairs that were to the right of the room. BEN and Morph followed him. Jim made no protest about this, for some reason he felt better knowing he wasn't going to be alone when he inspected the bodies.
            The upstairs was nothing more then a long corridor of doors leading to bedrooms he was positive were just as bad as the actually bar. Jim didn't want to think about what went on in these rooms; he just wanted to go back to the Benbow Inn.
            Jim stopped at the first door on the left and stared at it. Almost immediately you could tell that something was wrong with the room. There were dents in the brown door, as if a body had been thrown against it. A small light peeked out from the creak under the door. With a sigh, Jim put the key in the door and opened it.
            As Jim surveyed the room his stomach dropped but he didn't allow any emotions to show on his face. If he did, he was sure he would vomit, and violently.
            One could tell instantly there had been a struggle. Blood was thrown across the room. Big clumps of it were stuck on the carpet and it was smeared against the wall. There were huge dents in the wall, done by a blunt object Jim guessed. There was no weapon he could see, but there were the bodies.
            Three of them were on the floor. Professor Beckman and his wife, Professor Regina Beckman, were leaning against the back wall of the room. From the smear of blood that trailed to their slumped bodies, Jim guessed they had both been forced to stand against the wall and then were shot in the chest. Their eyes were opened in a look of horror.
            There was another body a few inches away from where Jim stood at the threshold. Professor Adam Harris stared at the ceiling with a blank look on his face, though his eyes held the look of being thoroughly surprised. His body had fared worse then the two Beckman. His robes were torn along the sleeves and there were gashes up his arms. His face was scarred, but what had killed him were the three bullet wounds to his chest.
Very carefully Jim moved over to the only furniture in the room, the bed. He saw one body on the bed and wondered where the fifth victim was.
            Jim found her curled defensively at the side of the bed, blocking her from view. Professor Ginger Morse's flaming red hair was matted with the blood that had trailed into her hair from the bullet wound in her forehead. The bullet had entered through the back of Morse's head and when Jim rolled her over; he saw that it had not exited the head. Meaning it was still lodged in her brain. Though the though sickened him, Jim knew he could use the bullet in Morse's head to identify the murder weapon.
            Finally, he moved to the woman on the bed. Professor Lillian Robinson had been a beauty when she had been alive. Champagne-blonde hair covered her face as she sprawled on the bed. There were bruises and angry red scratches on her legs, as if she had been pulled against wood. Her hands were wrapped protectively around her chest, as if to stop a bullet. But Jim saw no bullet hole on her hands or chest. So Jim leaned against the bed and slowly removed the hair from Robinson's face. Jim's gut clenched as he saw the slash along her throat that had killed her. It was even harder to keep a straight face when a voice in side his head pointed out Robinson was barely a year older then Alyson. He could almost see Alyson instead of Robinson. Feeling like he was about to vomit, Jim back away and heard the gasp for the first time.
            Jim wheeled around and saw BEN and Morph standing in the threshold of the room. BEN's eyes were blank but from the way his hands trembled Jim could tell BEN was upset by the scene he saw. As for Morph the pink shifter's eyes were wide as saucers and his mouth in an 'o'. Jim realized that they hadn't had the training he had and therefore wouldn't be able to handle this sight.
            "Go back down stairs." Jim said, "I have to do this on my own, okay? Go to the Fate and get my stuff would you?"
            BEN nodded and Morph looked thankful to be ordered out of the room. The pink shifter turned and followed the robot out of the room.
            When Jim was sure they were gone, he turned back to Robinson. It really bothered him that one so young, she could only be 26, would have to die this way. It hurt him to think about the pain and horror that she must've felt before she finally died. Alyson was only 25; would she ever be in such danger? Could she die like Robinson? Alyson said she had known Robinson; she said she had been kind and nice. How could his wife know someone that had died like this? It shook him to the core to think that Alyson could be like Robinson had their places been switched.
            Jim shook his head and tried to clear his mind. He told himself that Alyson wasn't Robinson, and that she was safe on Venkar with Seymour. She was fine because Venkar was too close to Montresser for anyone to try anything. That, and the fact that Alyson had no reason to be in any danger or in a dangerous situation made Jim feel a little better.
Content with that Jim turned and began to walk out of the room. He stopped suddenly when something caught his attention. Frowning, he bent down and pulled at the carpeting covering the floor. The carpet lifted from the ground and Jim saw what he thought he had glimpsed on his way out of the room. A tiny piece of paper.
            Jim picked up the paper and unfolded it. He saw five small words written in red ink. Jim caught of whiff of the smell from the paper and realized the red ink was really blood. Slowly, with a shaky hand, he began to read the words.
            Your sins shall be atoned.
            The paper slid from his nerveless fingers. Those words had been whispered to him once before, only seven months ago by a half-crazed man.

                        Jim leveled the gun with unsteady fingers and aimed it at his long-time enemy. His heart ached as his listened to the explosion in the background. He could almost see the fiery debris of the spaceship as it floated back onto the forest planet in the Raeford Galaxy. He knew everyone on board was dead, the bomb inside had meant to be deadly and accurate. He just hadn't known...his only regret...his only failure in this whole mission. Jim wanted to close his eyes and weep.
            But to do that, he would have to take his eyes off of the man he held at gun point. But Jim realized after a few moments he didn't need to watch Randolph Nathaniel at all. The man's almost black eyes were on the burning wreckage that had once been his ship. He placed his hands in his head and howled in agony. It almost made Jim wince; almost, but not quite. Because no matter what had happened, Nathaniel was evil and had killed and murdered without a care.
            Nathaniel turned his eyes to Jim. Their dark depths blazed with anger and hatred as he hissed, "How could you? You are of the Academy! How could you!?"
Jim's hands shook violently, but he said evenly, "It's your fault. You used the ship as a decoy. You used the ship as a distraction. It was only natural that we'd go after it. Now, you're under arrest. What's done is done. I hope you can't live with yourself for what you've just done. This is your fault."
            Nathaniel growled and said in a soft, dangerous tone, "Your sins shall be atoned. You will pay for what you have done. Until then may your failure haunt you."
            Jim hadn't expected Nathaniel to attack him. What Jim had expected was tears and maybe an emotional breakdown. That was reasonable after all that happened, but instead Nathaniel leaped forward and caught Jim off guard. As they rolled on the ground, Jim's gun slid from his reach. He released a curse and at the same time Nathaniel's fists found Jim's face. As Jim howled in pain, Nathaniel found a rock and slammed it against the side of Jim's head.
            Jim's eyes rolled to the back of his head as black spots began to take over his vision. He groaned in pain and then gave in to unconsciousness.

                        By the time Jim had awakened Nathaniel had run away, leaving Jim with his mission failed and a heavy burden on his heart. What he had done had haunted him. It still did, but he had convinced himself that it wasn't his fault. Nathaniel had risked it, not him. Nathaniel had given Jim the false information, it wasn't his fault.
But Nathaniel saw it as Jim's fault and had sworn revenge. Had sworn to make Jim pay for his sins. Rubbing his temples, Jim wondered how Nathaniel planned to do that.
            Jim stuffed the piece of paper in his pocket and shook his head. There was a very good chance that Nathaniel was behind these murders. Now that Jim thought about it these murders did seem like Nathaniel's style.
            Jim wondered why Nathaniel planned to extract revenge from him and how these murders tied in with it. Jim frowned and walked out of the room. He would think about it later. Even though he suspected Nathaniel was behind these murders, he didn't have proof, and he needed to proof if he was going to track down Nathaniel.
            With one last solemn glance around the room, Jim walked out. His heart was suddenly heavier then it had been a few moments before.

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                        That bloody enough for you, baby? And what exactly what happened in the Raeford Galaxy that made Randolph Nathaniel go all psycho killer? We may never know… *sigh*… ah, who am I kidding? Of course we will! Just not now! Anyway, stay tuned for Chapter Four: In His Clutches where Alyson is thrust into the role of the damsel in distress and she is none to happy about. Captain Amelia Doppler to the rescue! Until then REVIEW!

                                    "What's scarier then an angry mod of midgets? A naked angry mod of midgets."

                                                            -Lizzy Rebel