Disclaimer: I do not own any elements of Treasure Planet, but simply utilize them in my plot. Thank you for everyone reading this! Life has a way of pulling you away from joys like writing this, and laziness even more so. Here is finally the next chapter, which is extra long, so that might appease for the long wait (or annoy you significantly; I'm not sure.)

A/N: I just started a blovel called thiefandsparrow on blogger. The story will be updated every month and posts will be as long as the ones I put up here, so prepare yourselves, anyone wanting to be part of this desperate authors' audience. The story there right now (01/26/13) is to be taken down and replaced with a different story later I've been working on which is much better and still compatible with the title (next week or the week after, I hope). Now enjoy, as I'm sure waiting any longer while I ramble would just be annoying.

^-^;

Chapter 4

Valerie's POV

I can't see. Where am I? The smells of the ship reached my nose, of slop in the galley, sweat and stink in the bunks below, but the most overwhelming, most comforting scent lingered from just below my chin. There is fabric around me, I realized, a sweater. I didn't need to think twice of what I was sensing. Perfume - a mix of gardenia and jasmine, my mother's favorite scent. This was my mother's sweater, the one she wore whenever we went out. On cue, a seam of light opened in front of my bed and there her silhouette stood, her evening jewelry dangling and glinting in the light. Behind her, I caught a glimpse of curly auburn hair and green smiling eyes. Papa.

I quickly hid under the covers; a little girl should be asleep now, shouldn't she? My parents came into the room, pretending they didn't see me sitting up in bed. Papa came to my side and kissed my forehead. "Good night, Sweetheart," he whispered. My eyes shut tight, I breathed in his scent - the drifting salt and dust of space, the musk of cologne. Mother came and tucked the covers around me. "Sweet dreams, darling," she whispered, and kissed my cheek. I listened to the thump, thump, thump of their shoes against the wood boards of the cabin as they closed the door behind them. And just like that, the room was in flames. I sat up, eyes wide, screaming. Orange burned and blurred my vision as I tried to escape the fiery coffin. "FIRE!" A voice shrill and terrified. Was it my own? Was anyone outside? I beat my hands against the blazing covers, trying to escape, to bat the flames away. A sickening crack resounded from above, sending a blazing rafter upon me. I closed my eyes, braced myself for the pain...when something took hold of me, shaking me senseless. "Valerie! Valerie, wake up!"

I opened my eyes to a blacker than black panther. "VALERIE! GET UP NOW!" Adam had a paw to each of my shoulders, his fur askew, nose quivering. Alarm and terror rang out in his voice, notes he'd never sung before. I pulled at his arms, swinging myself up fast as lightning. "What's wrong?" I asked quickly, still tense from the nightmare. "Explosion...at the docks...Charlie and Abigail..the ship." He pointed out the window where swarms of men and women ran, their distant screams and trills loud enough to reach our ears.

Instinct drove me past reason. I swung the window open and jumped out. My feet jarred against the ground, but I didn't feel the hit, just like I hadn't seen the singed hairs on Adam's back or the tears and burns on his clothes. I ran faster than I could think, pushing through the crowded streets, deaf to shouts of protest and warning, blind to their pitying and frightened faces. My skin was numb to the hot tears racing down my cheeks until flaming tarp threatened to stroke them away. I dared to look up.

The Antonia had become the Devil's vessel. The bow was reduced to pieces of shrapnel and embers scattered across the docks. In its place was the mouth of a raging beast. Flames roiled from within, licking at the walls of the cabins below one of which had collapsed. Patrol and Fire bots were trying to break in a space large enough for them to enter the Hellish bonfire and simultaneously keep order among the onlookers, most of whom were troupers, worried for their belongings. I wish I could say I was concerned for their well-beings, that I was sorry whatever they had left on board- family heirlooms, life savings, homes - would be lost forever. But only one question passed my lips as I approached Toby as he and his boys stared into the terrible beauty of destruction. "Where are Charlie and Abigail?" He turned to face me, worry in his eyes. I knew he didn't want to tell me, he didn't want me to do something rash, but his months on the ship had taught him better. His voice was stiff. "The Cap'n and Abigail said they'd take first shift on the ship. I tried to stop them; it was the boys' job after all. They wouldn't listen and an hour after they boarded..." He didn't need to finish the rest. I could imagine only too well what came next. We both looked back at the ship. The Squad Bots were too slow. I knew it. Toby knew it. The crew knew it.

I ducked under the arms of the nearest Patroller and ran up behind the rescue team. Using them as leverage, I jumped up to the cable that anchored the ship to the docks. "What do you think you're doing?!" the metalhead shouted as I kicked my legs up to hang on the thick cord. Bots clambered around beneath me, a few trying to reach up and no doubt rescue me. "Young woman, you can trust us to handle this fire ourselves. Now reach for one of us, so you may return to safety."

My years with the troupe had taught me better. I flipped myself onto the cable, using the makeshift tightrope to run onto the deck. Sparks and wood were flying and falling all around me as I sprinted to the trapdoor and ripped it off its hinges, climbing into the 'trap.' The Bots had returned to their battering the outer walls with a passion, now needing to save not two, but three people inside the ship. I clambered past their line of sight and their hoped-for entrance, making my way to the back where the cargo was being held. First duty on the ship was inventory and cleanup.

I used the neck of my shirt to block the smoke of the place. Terror pushed at the back of my head as burning memories resurfaced, and I couldn't tell whether my eyes watered from heat or fear. It felt like both. If it had been raining flames out on deck, then there was a monsoon of fire coming down within. Beams creaked above me and at my feet were pieces of wood already fallen or burnt off the wall and ceiling of the hall. I pushed forward, ducking and dodging as I went. It wasn't enough of course. My arms scraped against the sides of the walls, and embers set my shirt alight more than once, forcing me to slap out the small fires. What had felt like a five minute walk only a couple days before had transformed into a glimpse of eternal damnation. I kept moving, calling as I went. "Charlie! Abby!" No answer. "CHARLIE! ABIGAIL!" Still nothing in return. I trudged forward to the cargo hold an inch at a time, fueling my voice with the poisonous fumes of the burning ship. I called and called, opening doors and exploring each room below deck to search as I continued to scream and fear for them in the heat.

I entered my bunk in desperation. A pile of burning wood and linens stood where my cot once was, but that wasn't all. A familiar gloved hand stuck out at the bottom of the debris, burned and still. Sickness and relief flooded through me at once, and I nearly jumped into the flaming stack. Grateful that I'd fallen asleep in my work clothes, I yanked at the weight holding down Abigail with my gloved hands. "Abigail! Abigail I'm here! Hold on, I'm here!" I sounded hysterical, yelling her name again and again, more for my own comfort than anyone else's. How many burns did I have on my arms? How many times did I nearly catch on fire? I didn't know. I didn't care. I needed Abigail. She was here and I needed her with all my heart.

When there was enough space for me to drag her out, I dove in and pulled from under her arms. Her eyes were closed, scrunched up as if she'd braced herself for impact. Her clothes were almost completely burned away, her exposed skin red and swollen. I could trace the shape of the wood that had fallen upon her. Her hair, her beautiful, long hair was almost completely burnt off, mere tufts of red left clinging to her scalp. My sister had become a broken doll. But she might be alive. She has to be. She has to.

I pulled her out of the room, trying to remember the safest and quickest way out. I needed to come back for Charlie when I came back, so I had to be swift. I wrapped my jacket over Abby's body to protect her from the falling wood and flames. In the hall, the fire had consumed close to everything that could possibly burn. Even the metal pipes that ran above us were laid bare and melted. I made my backwards way carefully through the hall, but it was useless. A pipe exploded behind me, throwing both Abby and me forward. All the air rushed out of me before I hit the ground. A sharp pain shot up my right leg, and I yelped in shock and anguish. My vision and thoughts blurred for a moment, then refocused. Abby lay flat on her face, bent at an unnatural angle.

Move, get Abby out. I tried to push myself up when a noise caught my attention. A sickening crack resounded from above, sending a blazing rafter upon me. I closed my eyes, braced myself for the pain...

Someone shoved me out of the way, tumbling both of us towards Abby. I opened my eyes, expecting a Patrol Bot. Jim's face was inches away from mine, wide-eyed and worried beyond belief. "Are you alright?" I nodded and elbowed myself into a sitting position. "I'm fine. We need to get my sister out of here." He looked behind him and nodded grimly. He strode over to Abby while I made an attempt to stand. He turned as if about to say something, but stopped dead when he saw me topple to the ground with a gasp. He returned to my side, ripping a strip of cloth from his pant leg. "That is NOT fine," he stated leaving no room for argument. I pulled back, but he grabbed my ankle, holding me prisoner to his speculation. He hissed when he saw the bloody gash below my knee, then glared back up at me. "Where did you think you were going on that?"

Determined, I tried again to escape. "I need to find my brother, and I bloody well don't need you to slow me down." My voice was high pitched and pitiful, as tears ran down my face. "I need to save him." I hated feeling so helpless; I needed to be useful, to be strong. I stopped struggling and let Jim wrap an expert splint around my shin. His expression softened somewhat as he looked back up at me. "We have to get out of here if you want to help Charlie," he said. He crawled to my sister's side and slung her over his shoulder. Standing up, he turned to me. I nodded in silent agreement to the truth in his words. With his help, I got up to my feet and leaned on his shoulder. Spacing had made him stronger than he looked. We made our way out the ship as it crumbled around us.

We stepped onto a dock now roiling with gawkers worried and in awe. A Bot came and took Abby from Jim, escorting all of us to a nearby ambulance where a medic was already working with a patient. "Charlie!" I shouted with joy. I tried to run to his side and nearly toppled to the ground. Jim held me by the waist to keep me steady. "Careful," he cautioned. "We'll get there." I nodded, "Thank you." My voice was raspy and tired, but it got the message across nonetheless. He paused midstep, concern in his eyes. I stopped and waited since I didn't have much of a choice, leaving me unprepared for what happened next. He lifted me up into his arms, cradling me like a child. His strong arms were a startlingly familiar touch. Papa, a small voice called - the voice of a dream. My mind was reeling with too many emotions and memories for me to ponder over any one of them. I let my eyes flutter closed to try and focus on the ordeal before me, but a wave of exhaustion overcame my efforts. Without deciding on it, my eyes remained shut, and I drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Jim's POV

She was out like a light when we got to the ambulance. The Bot that had Valerie's sister hovered near an empty stretcher and gently placed her inside. Another ambulance arrived, sirens and all, with the Cap'n and Dr. Doppler hanging onto the outside. They looked as if they were escaping an exploding planet. Remembering the chaos on the ship, I realized the scene was near the equivalent. The vehicle parked and a swarm of medics came at Valerie and me full throttle. A stretcher appeared in the midst of it all where I put Val before a pair of hands yanked me to the side. I caught my balance leaning against the ambulance as the interrogation began. "How many claws am I holding up?"

"Three ."

"What is your name?"

"James Pleiades Hawkins."

"Are you able to stand?"

"Yes."
"Are you in any particular pain, and where?"

"No, I'm not Doc," I assured the Salamandran in charge.

"Now if I could please excuse myself, someone's waiting for me - Ow!"

I surprised myself as I reflexively dropped my arm. My left shoulder howled in pain when I had tried to wave politely to the doctor. That was enough to get me tossed into the back of the ambulance along with Valerie. If Mom was worried now, I couldn't imagine what she'd do when she heard about this. The doors were about to close when a pair of paws grabbed onto it. "WAIT!" a deep voice shouted. In hopped a black Carnivora and a blue Salamandran. I recognized the panther-like musician who had come running into the Inn shouting for Val, and I assumed his companion was another concerned trouper. "We're coming with you!" he told the staff inside the vehicle. "Are yo-"

"We're as much family as the girl may have left," the Salamandran said gravely in unquestionable sincerity. There was no need to wonder at his grief; the state that his Cap'n was in hadn't been pretty. The fact that Val had recognized her brother was a miracle. He was baked black on his left side, his right covered in blisters and cuts the likes of which the best of Spacers hadn't survived. The two entered the back, not waiting for permission.

The doors were closed and the ambulance was off. A medic came to my side and started examining and disinfecting my shoulder while another pair continued working on Val. The Carnivora put a hand over hers, while the Salamandran watched in silence. The paramedics put an oxygen mask on her and braced her neck and leg before working at icing her burns and disinfecting scars. They cut away at the splint I'd made and uncovered a gruesome gouge. A shard of old pipe had lodged itself deep beneath her skin, liable to blood poisoning. No sooner did the staff see it did they start rushing as much anyone could packed into such a small space. Drugs were mixed, IVs attached, shouts were made. The ambulance drove faster through the streets towards the hospital.

When we came to a stop I was sent one way, everyone else another. She'll be okay, I told myself, but concern was natural at the sight of such grim-faced doctors. I took a last glimpse of Val and her friends until they were out of sight.

Five Months Later

Valerie's POV

I smiled as I shook hands with Toby. His small clan of neon Salamandrans surrounded me, their gazes pitying and exciting all at once. "This is the last installment for your collected pay," I said, making an effort not to let my voice crack. Toby was still as I placed the bag of gold drubloons in his palm. He didn't even bother to make sure it was all there. I could hear him swallow the lump in his throat as he tucked the bag away in his satchel. They were all dressed in traveling clothes, no doubt ready to board the next ship heading out. With a final, firm pat on Toby's shoulder, I addressed him and his family in the most commanding of voices. "You and your family do us proud, you hear?" My voice sounded thick in my aching throat at the mention of my siblings. All the men in the crowd stood to attention and raised their hands in salute. "Aye Cap'n!" they cried in united loyalty. Toby's eyes were the glassiest of the five's. Nodding, I didn't allow a single drop of sadness into my expression. These men were amongst the most loyal and generous in my time of need, and I had no right to hold them back any longer. "At ease," I answered. Tipping Charlie's old hat on my head, I gave my final words to them. "Good luck and Good riddance to all of you. It's been a pleasure to have you in our service."

I turned away from the bunch, not intending a second glance. Then, out of the blue, Toby grabbed me into an awkward hug. Twisting me to face him, he looked me in the eye. "You take care of yourself, too, Cap'n," he said softly. I swallowed back the saltwater in my eyes. "Thank you, ," I said as formally as I could. "For everything." I couldn't hide my melancholy from Toby, I knew. He hugged me again, more tightly than the first time, and let go. He walked backwards towards his sons, waving. I waved back before heading back to the Inn without another word.

I didn't pay much attention to the hustle and bustle of the docks. I'd taken it in as an everyday phenomenon of this temporary home, growing used to the prying eyes and glares of the locals as I limped towards the Benbow Inn. My tragedy had become well-known in the area, and my possible involvement in the ordeal had spread like wildfire. Bad news is the best after all, I thought to myself, as I ignored the mother fretfully calling her children inside as I passed their door. The brand on my hands had put a mark to my name, after all these years. I didn't dare pull my hat over my face or duck into the more hidden alleyways home. Abby wouldn't have stood for it, while Charlie would find a way to laugh it off. I used my old jacket sleeve to wipe the tears threatening to flood over. I wish they were still here.

"Valerie?" a young voice called. I hunted down the owner's face in the crowd. "Finn?!" I called, alarmed that he was so far from home. I came up to him, throwing aside my worries at the moment. "What are you doing here alone?" I asked him. "You'll get yourself lost again like this, you know." He shook his head indignantly. "I brought Morph this time. He wanted to see you." I whipped my head around, looking for the little pink glob of mischief. A trilling tickled my ear where a mini-me stood upon my shoulder. "There you are, Little Morph" I said. Morph returned to his original form and started babbling in his morph-tongue, cuddling up to my cheek and revolving my head a few rounds. Looking back down at Finn, I took his hand in mine. "It can't be helped then, can it? I'm going to have to take you to the Inn with me. Perhaps Cap'n Amelia or the Doctor will be there." Finn made a show of how disappointed he was to be sent home, though I could tell his little eyes were glowing with excitement. This wasn't the first time he'd followed me in the streets. Truth be told, I quite loved his company, despite how much trouble he was putting himself in.

We made our way through, dodging and ducking where deemed necessary. Finn told me about everything he'd read in his storybooks last night, stories of pirates, lost planets, and monsters. We discussed how cool supernovas were and how fun solar surfing must be. But time flies swiftly, and we finally got to the bottom of the hill leading up to the Benbow. I nudged my head forward. "Finn, you go up ahead. I'll be right behind you." I winked at Morph. "I bet you can't beat Morph to the door." The taunt of a race was too enticing for the little boy to resist; Morph flipped with glee, winking back at me. I trusted Morph would keep an eye on Finn while I climbed the hill myself. I watched the two zoom up the hill and shrink in the distance. A cry of triumph as Finn reached the door, the scolding of a woman opening the door, - no doubt Cap'n Amelia or Mrs. Hawkins- then the shutting of wood against frame. I sighed in contentment with the familiar sounds. Then, I braced myself for the task before me.

I took one step forward with my left, then pulled my right up and placed it carefully in front of the first. The brace on it was heavy, despite the modifications I had had over the past few months. I was glad that the hospital hadn't replaced my leg entirely with a mechanical one, but I felt awkwardly weighted and loud whenever I walked with it clinging to my skin under my clothes. I'd finally gotten used to the dull thudding pain of the screws the doctors had used to keep my bone pieces in place, so that wasn't so bad when it wasn't about to rain. I took my time climbing the hill. Step, swing, step, swing, step, swing, step, swing. I sweated with the effort of carrying the hunk of metal up. Whether or not I needed the brace, I hated it. It seemed to me like a trap, like the bomb that had destroyed the Antonia and Charlie and Abby, the ashes of cargo that had needed to be paid for, the rumors of jealousy and deceit that I'd turned on my own kin, the pirate that continued to haunt my past, present, and future. I closed my eyes with the strain of climbing, and I saw under my lids the brand left on Charlie's good cheek the last time I'd seen his face. Crossed swords in a ring of flames. Why? I asked myself yet again. Why not me?

I reached the top of the hill, huffing and puffing like an old granny would after a climb twice as long. This was a humiliation I'd had to endure for the past five months, going back and forth selling paintings and paying off old troupers and clients. I didn't want anyone else to see me in this state, struggling with such a simple task. If I had anything left worth sustaining, it was my pride, for now I carried not only my own, but that of my late siblings, a treasure I didn't dare squander.

I took a few calming breaths to compose myself, wiping the sweat from my face and hairs to my head. Then, I opened the door to the Inn. There were already a few customers mingling before the dinner rush. The room hushed quickly when the clank of my right leg hit the floorboards. My heart sank at the familiar sound, but I dared not show it. Instead, I smiled, bright and true as I passed everyone and headed towards the back. The hush, however, spread to the kitchen as soon as I stepped in. "Good Afternoon," I greeted BEN politely, pulling an apron on beside him. "What be the special today?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Jim and started moving again. "Number 5 for table 7," the manager said, in her no-nonsense tone. The early bird rush was going to start any second. Jim walked over to my side as I pulled out the vegetables and my favorite kitchen knife. "So how did it go?" he asked, straight to the point. I glanced at him, wondering how much to say. There was no secret as to where I'd been. In fact, today had actually been a landmark for everyone. I was officially debt-free after so long, minus my needing to work for room and board at the Inn. "The transaction went without a hitch," I said smoothly, clearly dismissing any further discussion.

Jim ignored my tone. "Where will the old Salamandran be heading now?" he asked, sincerely curious. He and Toby had gotten along well, sharing stories of days out in space and how grueling training was, whether at a Naval Academy or a circus. Toby had even taught Jim how to walk a tightrope, a trick he'd only taught me before. "The boy has a trustworthy heart," he'd explained to me when he recounted the lesson with me. "Just like yours."

"I...don't know where," I said slowly. "But I hope he and his sons do well, wherever they go." With that, our conversation ended. BEN started narrating the tale of how he'd been used as bait for catching space whales once, and came in with another three orders. I peeled a bucket of potatoes and sliced them, listing the order of vegetables I'd slice afterwards in my head. I decided to leave the onion for last.

Jim's POV

We finally closed up around one in the morning, and none of us were up to staying awake any longer that night. Morph was already dozing on my shoulder. The Doc and his family had gone home long ago so the kids could go to bed. Mom and I headed up to our rooms, while Valerie went to hers. Her eyes were dull, each looking like a shiner from a bad fist fight. Ever since they'd released her from the police station, the bags under her eyes had gotten larger and deeper. None of us had any idea how much sleep she got, or whether she slept at all. Just last week, when Morph had woken me up to feed him a four-in-the-morning snack, the light in her room was still on, and I could hear her walking this way and that. A few hours later, she was out in the square with five new paintings to sell. I hoped for her sake that she'd finally have a full night's sleep, now that everything had been paid off.

Mom had stopped in the middle of the hall overlooking the front lobby, staring down to the hall that lead to Valerie's room. "I wish she would let herself get some rest," she sighed. "It's been so long since she's really smiled."

I nodded. The bright eyed girl I'd bumped into at the door all those months ago, scattering red flyers across the front lobby and bowing like a gent at a show had gone down with her ship. With every passing day and her every good-bye to a crew member and friend, the life in her died, like she sold pieces of her heart with each of her paintings. Sure, she smiled when we talked to her or when she greeted customers, but it wasn't hers. Yet, she refused to give herself a break either. At her brother and sister's funeral, she had given a strong speech, no tears, no show of weakness. Her last sentence summed up her purpose from that moment on. "As the new Captain of the Antonia's Troupe, I swear to uphold all the promises and duties left to me, to send off each and everybone of my crew and of my troupe with the honorable farewells they deserve, just as Charles and Abigail would have wished."

"But now she doesn't need to be strong for everyone," I thought aloud. Mom turned to me with a sad smile. "I hope so, Jim. I really do." She came up to me and took me into a hug. "Good night, Jim." I hugged her back. "Good night, Mom."

I couldn't sleep that night, no matter how hard I tried. I wasn't particularly nervous or happy about anything; my thoughts were as sluggish and tired as I was. Instinct drove slumber away, though, urging me to get out of bed and go downstairs. Something wasn't right, and my brain was determined to set whatever it was straight. I had closed my eyes and started counting off planets in my head, a trick I'd picked up from the Academy, when Morph shot up out of his wooden bed to the door, jabbering in rapid Morph. In the mess of his words, he kept saying "Val, Val, Val," and whimpering. I quickly got out from under the covers and followed Morph down the stairs to the front door. He changed into a flashlight and pointed it towards a shadow on the floor in front of the door.

"Morph! Shut that light off, quick!" Valerie hissed from where she knelt.

I reached for the light switch and flipped it on. A trunk sat next to the girl dressed in black on her red-soaked towel, holding a screwdriver, poised at the head of a screw on her leg brace. "What the heck are you doing?" I all but shouted. "I'm taking this damn piece of tin off, that's what," she muttered. "Stupid thing's slowed me down long enough. Now go back upstairs!"

Valerie's POV

Jim stood there dumbstruck and staring as I continued the painful business of unscrewing the last piece of metal attached to my bone, the only thing holding the brace to my leg. A bloody screw sat waiting for its partner in a pile of bolts and washers I'd had to remove from around my ankle.

The spacer clamped his jaw shut and went around back to the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of old vodka and a set of bandages. "You're going to bleed to death at this rate," he said, alarmed at the sight of the little puddle I'd made. At least he had enough sense not to rally the Inn awake.

"No, I won't, and I can say that from experience," I said plainly. "And I told you to go back upstairs. I can take care of myself." He shook his head and poured some alcohol onto the towel. The scent alone burned the inside of my nose. "There's no chance I'll just leave you in this mess," he said stubbornly. "Besides, Morph, wouldn't let me even if I tried."

I glared at the loving pink thing floating worriedly above my head. "So you brought him here," I scolded him softly. Morph whimpered as if he were about to cry, breaking my hard-set heart. I looked back at the darned screw. I wouldn't falter in my resolve, no matter what.

"Where were you planning to go anyway?" Jim asked incredulously, looking at the suitcase I'd bought a couple of weeks ago. He turned back to my leg and began cleaning and wrapping the injury. Morph came up to me, and rubbed into my cheek. "Where ya' goin'? Where ya' goin'?" I shooed Morph away and made the final, most painful twist of my screwdriver with a hiss and dropped the last screw in with the rest of the junk. I heaved a sigh and resigned myself to the stinging touch of Jim's help. As he worked, I answered his question. He had the right to know after all.

"I'm going Away. It's pretty far from here, may take a few weeks to reach depending." There was no point in being formal anymore, not when I'd been discovered. Jim glanced up from his work. "You plan on running away like this."

"Yes," I answered matter-of-factly. "The sooner the better." He wrapped my injuries in an expert splint, like always, and looked me sternly in the eye. "So you've finally paid off all your debt, you have a perfectly good place to stay with people that care about you, whether or not you care back, and you're on the road to a decent recovery," he started, his voice the degree of anger rising in his voice as he went on. "And you're just going to throw it all away?!" He was glaring at me now with an intensity that could make any naval officer shiver from the inside out. Unfortunately for him, he was dealing with a determined pirate Captain. I pulled my pant sleeve over my leg and stood above him - if anyone was going to be intimidating it would be me. "I have no anchors here." I replied, my voice soft and icy as a comet tail, a reminder to Jim not to wake anyone else. "And I doubt they'd be able to stop me."

Jim stood up and faced me, face stern, eyes sad. He stayed silent for a while, giving me a moment to think and him a moment to calm down. "What's happened to you?" he finally asked.

The question hung in the air, chilling the room. Morph reduced himself into a quivering puddle on the floor, and Jim, his chest rising and falling, waited for what I had to say. Bull's eye, I cursed myself.

The problem with emotional appeals was that, they always hit their target, no matter how prepared the victim was for them. The pain will always wash in, wave after wave on the mind's fragile shore. But I knew pain, and this pain was no less familiar than that of losing my family all over again, of being betrayed by the ones closest to me yet another time. "I killed my family, Hawkins. That's what." Maybe it was the emotional frenzy Jim had put me in that drove me to what I did next; I couldn't have been thinking straight, or I never would have showed Jim. I ripped my gloves off and shoved my palms in his face, nearly slapping him at full force. The tattoos had never faded, the black ink so deep that it must have been carved into my very soul. "This is why the police had to investigate me, Jim. This is why everything I touch with these hands burns to the ground!" Jim's eyes widened at the sight of Lombardi's coat of arms, the signature at the end of the pirate's note to the authorities. He was speechless, as was my aim. I put my gloves back on, covering the flaming circles and swords. Then, I picked up my suitcase with my old satchel ever hanging at my side through the whole ordeal.

"I found a place just like this one, on a happy ship with my brother and sister; they gave me a home and a hope when no one else would. You saw for yourself how I repaid them, and I'm not making that mistake again." Jim opened his mouth as if about to say something, but I wasn't done. "Destroy everything I left in my room," I commanded. "Melt the metal, set the paints to flame. Don't spare anything that was connected to my existence if you don't want this Inn to burn down again." I didn't leave room for question. The old me, the girl that Abby and Charlie had found floating alone in a dingy by the orphanage, had opened her eyes to reality. I had had my time to carelessly paint and dance and dream of a safe life. But I'd said all my goodbyes and made due with all my promises. I opened the door to the warm night, checking the gun holstered in my left boot. I set one foot out and was about to take another when Morph reassembled next to me, crying great tears larger than his eyes.

"Don't go, don't go!" he kept saying, echoing the longing in my heart. My expression softened, and I stroked him atop his head. "Don't cry, Little Morph," I whispered, pulling on a smile for his sake, the tone of it sincere. "Just look for me in the stars, okay? I'll always be watching for you." Morph cooed and nodded. Licking my cheek, he circled my head and returned to Jim's side. "Buh-buh-Bye," he hiccuped. I dared to look up at Jim. His expression had become gentler as he'd watched me. "Take care of yourself, Valerie Sky," he said thoughtfully, aware that he wouldn't be able to stop a girl who could stand with two holes in her leg. "You have my regards, Jim Hawkins," I replied, bowing as deeply as I had the first time I had met him. "Thank you and your family for all the hospitality in this galaxy and more. Few would have taken me in on such short notice." He bowed his head in acknowledgement. There could have been something here for me, I thought. Something grand. I stood up straight and pulled my brother's hat from my bag, a three-cornered beauty I'd inherited as Captain the day after the funeral. I turned with a flourish and strode off.

Out of sight of my would-be friends, I slipped into a nearby alley that seemed empty of everything but a few three-eyed rats. I leaned my weight on my good leg where I stood and checked again and again that the coast was clear. Then, I pulled from my bag my last gift from Charlie.

In the hospital, he and I were alone for his last few moments after we'd been told of Abigail's declared death by head injury. I was already too late when I'd reached her on the ship; she'd been dead for half-an-hour under the rubbish. Charlie started wheezing harder than ever as he reached for my hand. "Take it," he gasped. "This is yours." In his balled fist was a crumpled map, burnt at the edges, but readable inside. I took the map and stuffed it into my pocket before I placed both hands in his. After an excruciating minute of silence from my brother - no breathing, no speaking - Charlie took his last breath and gave me the most beautiful smile he'd given any girl. "Good bye, Val," he sighed, closing his eyes as a distant, long tone bleeped in alarm beside him.

I knew from the morning of the fire that Charlie and Abby had known there would be a bomb on the ship. They hadn't woken me up to set the stalls and had volunteered to board the ship that morning on their own. They knew what would happen. They'd sacrificed themselves to save that map, to save me. I didn't plan on letting their pain be in vain.

Alone, with the treasure map in my hands, I leaned against the wall. The old leather drawing led to a planet far from here, one so ancient, its location had been forgotten long ago. My parents had told me stories of the old world where our kind came from. It was said to be filled with relics the likes of which no one had seen for nearly a millennium like compasses and cars. Finding Earth would be like finding a a hundred gold mines with a thousand diamonds to boot. In the corner, a note was written in tiny scrawl. "To my beloved daughter, Valerie. - A.S." I rolled the map up and tucked it into my bag as I ran to the docks at full tilt. This new adventure was in allegiance to everyone I'd lost and loved. There was no time to waste.

Exit, center stage, into the darkness.