"Ludicrous. I'd have expected better of someone of your reputation-"

"I beg your pardon!"

"Gallivanting across the galaxy, wasting your time chasing fairytales when our best captains are trying to prevent another war with the Procyons. You of all people should know what's at stake here, and you expect me to what, snap my fingers and send my best men to play make-believe because you were too dim sighted that you hired a pirate crew to-"

"I'm the one who hired the crew." Delbert interrupted. The lion-like felidae turned his accusing glare from Amelia to where Dr. Doppler stood by the door. His golden eyes narrowed.

"And it was you, I assume, that financed this fool's errand, was it not?"

"I did. From the beginning Captain Amelia was wary of my choice of crew. She told me as such before we'd even left Cresentia."

"And yet you still permitted these men to work aboard your ship?" Blake shook his head as though he were disappointed in her. "What did Mr. Arrow have to say about this?" Amelia gave him a cold look.

"Arrow is dead, Admiral Blake." Her voice was sharp, her eyes daring him to continue. His bravado all but vanished, his ears folding back into his red mane and his eyes growing wide.

"...I'm so sorry," he finally managed to say. "I had no idea...what happened to him?"

"The star Pelusa went supernova. We were unlucky enough to be in the vicinity when it turned into a black hole." Her voice wavered, and she steeled herself. "His lifeline wasn't properly secured." Blake's eyes sparked with fury.

"How could that have happened?! Who-"

"Captain, for all we know someone could've untied his line. They're pirates, I don't think Jim is to blame." Delbert spoke up again.

"And Jim is...?" Blake prodded.

"Jim Hawkins. He's the boy who discovered the spherical map that led us to Treasure Planet." Amelia was silent. Suddenly her sling was fascinating.

"Wait, you found a map?" This caught his attention. Delbert nodded, the admiral's change in mood encouraging him.

"Yes! Or rather it found us. You see, pirates attacked the Benbow Inn- its a bed and breakfast on Montressor, run by Jim's mother, and earlier that night a ship had..." Amelia tuned them out. Her good name hadn't been enough to convince Blake, but talk of a treasure map was? A map they didn't even have. She shouldn't be surprised, really. After all, she'd had as much evidence when she'd agreed to this damned voyage in the first place. They couldn't help it. All spacers were alike. They came for the adventure.

"Where is he now?" Blake's voice broke through her train of thought. Delbert fell silent, grief and guilt rendering him mute.

"He stayed behind to keep the pirates off our trail." Amelia explained. "They won't kill him. He's the only one who can open the map." She should know. She'd tried too many times to mimic his movements only to have the blasted sphere remain tightly sealed. Delbert looked ashamed, his gaze fixed on his shoes and his head in his hands, but Amelia sat with her head held high. She wasn't at fault, she told herself. They'd left him behind because it was necessary. If he'd come with them, their skiff would still be drifting in space. But Amelia would be lying if she were to insist this was her only reason for doing so. Because, even if Jim had properly secured the lines, it was still his fault. It was his map that had led them out there. His fantasy had cost her the life of her best friend.

She had been taken aback by her fervent animosity at first- Jim was only fifteen, a child. Over time however she had rationalized her actions. If she were being completely honest, she didn't much care what fate befell the Hawkins boy. Let those pirates he was so fond of do with him what they wished. Silver had taken a shine to him, anyhow. He'd look out for him.

"How long were you adrift?" Blake's astonished tone called her back to the present.

"A little more than a week." She replied. "The good ship Stardust picked us up, and brought us to Parliament. Sir Morris recognized me, and sent us straight here. I apologize for the hour but you see why this couldn't wait until morning."

"Yes, of course. I'll send for help at once." Delbert seemed relieved.

"Thank you, Admiral." He nodded, and they stood to take their leave. Before Amelia could step out of his office Blake spoke up once more.

"He was a good man, Amelia." She froze. "His loss is a tragic one. He deserved so much better." His words were meant to comfort her, she knew, but they cut like broken glass. She didn't trust herself to speak, so instead she nodded her thanks, and left.

Arrow had deserved better. And now, he deserved revenge.

"Six thousand pieces of silver, Silver!" The cyborg laughed at the joke for what felt like the eight hundredth time, careful to keep his mechanical eye hidden behind his makeshift bandage lest its crimson light betray his irritation.

"Ye never change, ye salty dog!" He laughed heartily.

They'd made it to Cornelius spaceport, a bustling, pirate-ridden city a safe distance away from Treasure Planet. Silver had dealt there for years, and had many contacts he knew he could count on. They'd only just made port night in the dead of night. Taelin laughed as well, his own cyborg parts buzzing and sparking as he bellowed,

"What kin I do ye fer?" Silver took this opportunity to slip his bandage away.

"Havin' a bit a trouble with this eye o' mine, ye see," he said as it almost fell from it's socket.

"Blimey!" The warthog-like alien squealed. "Ye done come to th' right place, mate! I'll fix 'er right up, come in, come in." He ushered the other cyborg inside, glancing up and down the street before shutting the heavy iron door behind them. Silver's organic eye strained to see in the dimly lit hallway. He reached a hand out in front of him, feeling his way along the wall. He could hear a series of bolts being secured in place.

"What's all that fer? Got some trouble?"

"Some dipshit tried to break in here last month. Didn't get nothin', but he got me Pariah." The short alien snorted a sigh. "Good un, she were. Took his leg off before he could slice her skull in half. Best damn guard rat a man could hope fer." He grinned cheekily. "I'm havin' her stuffed with the bastard's leg in 'er mouth." Silver chuckled.

"Of course ye are." He wondered sometimes how he'd gotten mixed up with people like this. Then again, there were stranger things than having a pet stuffed and mounted.

The shop had at one time been a home of sorts, one of several dozen row-style houses that made up the poorer district of Cornelius. Even now it was easy to pick out what would've been a nice dining room under the clutter and garbage. A rusted chandelier hung in the center of the ceiling, its candles long melted away, their glass cases smashed. Lengths of wire hung from the once-elegant branches, a tangled mess of poorly patched copper and steel running in all directions, feeding several dilapidated machines. They sat lifeless in the dark corners of the room, silent in the blackout. Oil stains had long since hidden the original pattern of the carpet, and the room was lit with only the glow of bioluminescent fish swimming in a large glass tank at one end of the room. Next to it was a chair. Taelin gestured to it now.

"Make yerself at home. Just let me get m'tools." He disappeared into another room(a sitting room, Silver guessed) and his guest obediently took his seat. The last time he'd been here, there had been five fish in this tank. Now there three, one red, and two gold. They rushed to his end of the tank, their clear eyes locked on the fleshy parts of his face, massive teeth snapping at the glass as their tiny front limbs scratched away. Ugly little things they were, but they were a reliable source of light on a planet that barely ever had power. Even the streets were dotted with tall lampposts holding thick glass bowls, irregularly restocked with the glowing fish. Nasty little shits they were. They could take off a man's hand in an instant.

"Now what th' devil happened 'ere?" Taelin hobbled back into the room with a sack over one shoulder.

"Recently hatched a mutiny, and I'm afraid the cabin boy wasn't so easily swayed." He hefted his prosthetic leg up onto the chair's leg rest, showing off the gash he'd patched, the half-assed seam already starting to pull apart. The hogman pulled a mask from his sack, flicking on the light on it's forehead plate. It flickered to life, and he made a face.

"Hope the little fucker paid for this," he scowled. "This was some of m' best work." He pulled a tiny blowtorch from his sack and set about removing the patch, melting the thick alloy as evenly as he could. "Was 'e th' one that fucked up yer eye?" Silver nodded. "Solaris have mercy tell me you gutted the brat."

"I left 'im fer the crew to deal with, believe you me he's payin fer it." Silver laughed, but it felt fake. His thoughts still tended to drift toward Jim, and he could no longer keep the worry from those thoughts. He couldn't help it. Jim was just a boy, and even though the pirates needed him, they only needed him to open the map. He only really needed his eyes and his hands, though he'd unlocked it so many times by now he could probably do it blindfolded. Silver had seen, on countless occasions, what his men were capable of. Every time he stood up to go down there, he saw Jim's eyes. They'd been guarded when he met the boy, but never had he seen so much unbridled hate before. There was something else there as well- fear. Pain. A flicker of hope. But so much hate. Always, that memory made him sit down, and go back to whatever it was he'd been doing.

"That takes carea that," Taelin tossed the blowtorch down, switching out the lenses that dangled over one eye. "Let me jus'..." With one savage tug he jerked the broken prosthetic eye free from it's socket. Silver winced at the sudden pain but said nothing. The hogman examined the metal ball, holding it closer to the tank to get a better look. He grunted before tossing it over his shoulder. "Cornea plate is trashed, retinal casing shattered, not to mention the damn optic wiring. Lucky fer you, I got somethin' much nicer- for the right price." Silver pulled a small satchel from his coat pocket and handed it over. The mechanic's prosthetic eyes grew wide as he dumped out four large rubies into his hand.

"Will tha' do it then?" Silver smirked.

"I believe it will," the other muttered. "How th' devil did you-"

"A private vessel, one o' them classy houseboats the nobles sail every now an' then. Easy prey out there." Taelin went to the other end of the room and pulled open a cabinet. Silver squinted, but with only his natural eye he could barely make out the lamp three feet from where he sat.

"A lucky find then?"

"Ye could say that." The hogman shuffled back to Silver's side with a box in his hands.

"Good parts this time. Real titanium, the best kind." He began to assemble the pieces together, never looking up from his hands. "Better cornea gel, and a fully operational lens disk." He set about connecting the tiny wires to the now-exposed circuit board in the mechanical socket.

Silver gripped the armrest of the chair tight, the flesh over his knuckles turning white. It wasn't that it hurt- he felt pressure, sure, but the nerves in that side of his face had gone numb long ago. Rather, it was the memory of having those parts implanted in the first place that made him cringe. As painful as losing the entire right side of his body had been, having bits of metal shoved into open flesh wounds was far, far worse.

"Ere we go. Give it a bit, then tell me whatcha see." Already the new eye was starting to function, and he could make out blurry shapes, though they were upside down. A moment later and they flipped right way around.

"Bit blurry, patches 'round the edges." The other alien tinkered with it for a bit until Silver was satisfied with the view. The new eye picked up detail in laser-like quality. From where he sat Silver could see scratch marks all across the walls, plain as day in the dark room. He turned to the fish again and aimed his laser sight into the tank, smirking as they scrambled after it.

"If anyone tears that hunk of metal outta yer ugly gob, I ain't makin' another one." Taelin snorted. "Damn near impossible to come by, titanium is." Silver put his hat back on his head and touched the brim with a nod, standing up.

"Thank ye fer yer time," he said, almost sarcastic, and the other laughed.

As Silver began the journey back to the ship, he tested out his new prosthetic piece. The dark streets around him, which before had been almost impossible to navigate, were almost as clear as broad daylight. Yes, he'd grown far too used to his mechanical parts. His leg felt better as well, the chamber doing its job to hold pressure and keep him upright. That boy had a good head on his shoulders. Twice now he'd near crippled him.

When Silver reached the docks, he paused, choosing to loiter about as he smoked his pipe. He'd been thinking about Jim all day. No matter how many times he'd push him out of his mind, his thoughts would always lead back to the boy. Now that his prosthetics had been repaired, Silver found his resentment had melted away. Jim had been angry, and he'd had a right to be. His dream had been taken from him, broken to pieces and violated. Had Silver been in his place he'd likely have done the same thing. Putting away his pipe, Silver made a decision. He would go talk to Jim. If any of the crew tried to interfere, he'd remind them that he was the captain, and they answered to him- not the other way around. He smirked. It had been awhile since they'd witnessed a good flogging.

Silver made his way to the brig, only passing Bird Brain Mary as she stood watch on deck. The rest of the crew was likely off scouring the port for cheap whores and strong drink, and while on any other occasion this would've pissed him off, Silver was grateful for it now.

Nothing could've prepared him for what he found. In the dark of the brig there was no way his biological eye would've picked out the dark blue, almost black bruises, or the fading but still visible lines that wrapped around his torso, but his newly repaired prosthetic eye could see every pice of straw in crystal clarity. Every scratch on his body, every dried blood stain was so clear it felt surreal. It took a second to register what he was looking at. The angle of those marks...Jim had done that. He was hurting himself, had been for some time. He could just make out several thin, pale scars. But as for the bruises, the burn marks, the dried blood around his face, all of that was the crew. No, it was Scroop. Silver was sure of it. Nobody else had much cared to visit their prisoner since they'd clapped eyes on the treasure, aside from their interrogation.

The cyborg felt his blood begin to boil. He searched his pockets for the key but then he remembered. "Deal." He'd done this to the boy. By leaving him to face whatever cruel torture this sick fuck had in mind, he'd condemned him to a living hell. Silver felt a wave of naseua wash over him as past interrogations, executions, and worse flashed through his mind. He slammed his metal shoulder against the door with a deafening crash, but the lock held. Jim leapt to his feet, startled from his sleep. The shackle caught between his feet and he nearly face planted, but caught himself. He looked up in terror, expecting his worst nightmare, but when he saw Silver his mouth turned into a hateful scowl.

"The fuck do you want?" He spat. Silver's eye clicked and whirred as he studied the lock. He could blast it open, the metal wasn't thick enough there.

"Stand back lad," Silver grunted as he reached for his plasma cannon. Jim glared at him, and dropped on his ass right behind the door. "Jimbo what're ye doin?! We got ta get ye outta here-"

"Piss off," Jim hissed at him. "I don't want your help."

"Lad, who did this to ye? Jimbo-"

"Who do you think Silver? Go ahead, take a shot in the dark here." Before the mutiny Jim never would've dared to speak to him like that, but now he knew better. He'd feared the wrong pirate.

"I had no idea this was what he...I didn't know-"

"You watched him burn me." Jim reminded him. "You were there. I couldn't see but I could hear you."

"It was wax, its hardly-" Silver caught himself but it was too late. Jim's stormy blue eyes sparked.

"Hardly what? Its hardly torture? Sure as hell felt like it but what the fuck do I know, right? I didn't lose a damn limb, so what do I have to bitch about?"

"Jim tha's not what I meant."

"Sure its not." He leaned back against the wood, arm cradled to his chest. Something shifted underneath him. Scroop had left the bottle of rum behind, and Jim had drank what little was left. It had been enough to numb his aching body and put him to sleep. The bottle itself, he'd kept. For a split second Jim considered smashing it and attempting to stab Silver again, but he dismissed the idea. He left it where it was, hidden in the moldy straw.

Silver's mind was ticking away like mad. He had to get Jim out of here, but how? He had to get the keys back, but short of killing Scroop he didn't see a way out that didn't involve his crew tearing them both to pieces. He meant what he'd told Jim. Pirates that went soft were dead men walking. But there had to be a way.

"I'll get ye outta this, Jimbo." Silver swore. "I'll get ye home." The boy bit his lip. It was clear he wanted to be mad at Silver, but the tone of his voice...

"It hurts," he whimpered, looking down. Silver felt a terrible pain in his chest.

"Ah know boyo," he soothed, reaching through the bars. Jim felt his lower lip wobble dangerously, and he hugged Silver's arm.

"Don't leave me again," Jim begged.

"I won't lad. Never again." Alarm bells were going off in his head, but the words had already left his mouth. His mother had been a strict woman, though she had always meant well. When he'd been little he'd tried to demand promises of her like this, and she'd always stubbornly refused. "That's a piecrust promise, John," she'd say. "Easily made and easily broken. I'll not be made to lie to you." He hadn't understood until he was older. By then he'd lost her, but for the better part of his life he'd tried to do right by her memory. And then that blasted map had crossed his path, and Billy Bones with it, and that was the end of that.

"Where are we?" Jim asked.

"Cornelius. A spaceport out toward Kinapis." Jim frowned.

"Why?"

"I'm takin' the ship to one of Flint's special coves. We gotta hide her fer a bit, lay low until the heat dies down." The gears and cogs clicked and whirred like mad as Silver paced in front of the tiny cell. "I'll get ye away from him Jimbo, I'll find a way. Then we'll take as much gold as we can carry an' disappear, by the time any o' them figure out yer gone we'll be half way 'cross the galaxy." Jim opened his mouth, but closed it silently. He wanted to make him promise, to make Silver swear on whatever little he valued that he meant what he said, but he was afraid. A promise meant trust, trust meant hope, hope meant disappointment. Hope meant looking out the window every birthday since he was old enough to see over the sill, waiting for his father to come up the walk from the docks, only to be crushed when he finally realized that no, another year was going to go by without the one thing he wanted most. So he didn't. Instead, he listed as Silver talked, mostly to himself. "They'll be too busy drinkin' their gold and drowning in whores to pay us any mind. We'll go then." Jim bit his lip.

"But what about the captain? She'll be out for your head. If you take me home-"

"A problem for another day lad." Silver said with a wink. "I've gotten m'self outta more scrapes than ye could imagine." Despite the writhing feeling in his gut, Jim smiled. Silver's confidant grin wavered, but only for a second. There was too much fear in those wide blue eyes. Too much fear for someone so young. His eyes drifted again to the scratch marks, but he refrained from asking. Right now, Jim couldn't hurt himself. The crew were daft, but they wouldn't be stupid enough to leave him with a weapon. A problem for another day, he repeated in his head. "I've got t' get back lad. Can't let anyone know I've been down here, best they think I'm ignorin' ye." Jim hung his head but nodded.

"Ok." Silver reached through the bars and gave his shoulder a final squeeze.

"Hold on lad. It won't be much longer."

note:

Admiral Blake was actually a character created for the sequel. Taelin, however, is an oc made up purely to fix Silver's eye. I try to stay away from oc's when I do fics. Let me know if this was too difficult to read.

R&R