Author's Note:

(Descending Whistle) Talk about a flip-flop relationship-wise … now for something a little different…

Scroop had been noticing a faint voice on the air all day, calling out to him. It had taken the young arachnid until nightfall to finally locate the source of the faint calling. It was coming from a small thatched hut on the outskirts of the port town where the land became a vast marsh.

The hut was propped up on wooden polls and a ramp led to the curtained entrance of the hut. Scroop glanced around apprehensively, ensuring that the coast was clear, before he proceeded to the entrance.

"Enter…" A voice within whispered before he could make his presence known.

A shiver of fear ran up Scroop's spine, but the young arachnid shook it off and entered the hut. The hut was made up of a single room decorated with vibrant carpets and many glimmering ornaments. The room was lit up by hundreds of candles, in a variety of shapes and sizes.

Scroop was immediately attracted to a bright white light emitting from a crystal ball in the centre of a table in the room. He stepped close to it and gazed into its depths, feeling as if he was in a similar realm as the one he kept seeing in his dreams. The pale mist swirled around in the crystal ball, creating strange shadowy forms in his mind's eye.

"You are of unique interest, young Scroop." The whispery voice spoke to Scroop.

Scroop looked up and for the first time noticed that there was another person in the room with him. It took him a moment to adjust his eyes from gazing into the crystal ball to the dim candle lit room.

He then spotted an aged Shikaran sitting on a pile of colourful cushions across the table from him. She wore a set of heavy colourful robes that were worn from age and her deep navy-blue hair was done up in dreadlocks.

"Who are you?" Scroop found himself asking.

"I'm a seer…I see visions of the future…" The Shikaran spoke gently. "Much like you, young Scroop…"

Scroop looked oddly at the seer. "I… I can't see the future…" he paused and then looked up, his golden eyes wide. "Can I?"

The seer slowly nodded her head. "You have a gift, Scroop…" She stated.

"Then why did you call me here?" Scroop demanded.

"Only to give you a warning…" The seer began. "And that is this: Though you may be able to see into the future, not all of these visions are of the future that will come to be… some are of a future of what could be."

"What?" Scroop looked at the seer quizzically.

"You will soon understand…" The seer smiled knowingly. "Now open your eyes, young Scroop, you are wanted elsewhere."

"Huh?" Scroop looked around him, noticing that the pale mist had spread from the crystal ball and was beginning to engulf the world around him. He looked up into the seer's blank white eyes and woke up.

"A dream…" Scroop murmured to himself quietly. "But… which part was the dream?"

It was morning. Rebecca had spent nearly the entire night debating with her self of what was to be done over her ordeal.

"I'll tell him… that's just it." Rebecca resolved, pacing the length of her room. "I'll tell him how I feel, and perhaps everything will turn out well." She smiled slightly to herself as she made her way to the door.

Before her hand could graze the doorknob, Rebecca stopped and sighed, her smile disappearing from her face.

"Now, how exactly am I going to word this…?" She pondered aloud, tapping a finger against her chin. "Am I going to simply tell him upfront that I am harbouring strong feelings towards him or am I going to use a casual conversation as leeway until I'm able to eloquently express my feelings?" The young woman sighed once more. "I suppose I'll decide that once I actually have faced him." She smoothed out the front of her dress and pushed some of her bangs off of her face.

Rebecca then reached forwards and opened the door, unexpectedly seeing the face of the man she wished to speak with; though it was evident by his stormy expression that he didn't want to speak with anyone.

"John?" She looked at him. "Can I speak with you a moment?"

"Oh who, me?" John asked bitterly. "Why shouldn't I be gracious teh be in the mere presence of a lady, much less than being able teh speak with her?"

Rebecca was taken aback by John's uncharacteristic coldness. She cleared her throat. "I wanted to discuss our relationship, if possible." She stated.

"Yeh don't need teh discuss anything, Rebecca," John snapped, "I know exactly how yeh think of me…"

Rebecca paused, wondering inwardly if she had been debating with her self that loudly the previous night. "What do you mean?"

"Like yeh said: I'm a sailor, for crying out loud." John narrowed his coal-black eyes at her; they were no longer gentle and full of warmth but full of coldness and anger.

Rebecca realized from where John had recited her thoughts. "You read my journal…"

"I did, an' it's a good thing too…" John stated. "Didn't want teh get any deeper in this relationship now that I know the truth." His eyes flared with anger. "Didn't want teh go falling for yeh, an' then realize that yeh only think of me as another sailor. A commoner."

Rebecca was speechless as she tried to think of what to say next.

"Now if yeh will pardon me, Lady Clarke," John started once more, "I've got a ship teh sail for yeh, so that yeh can get teh yer high-classed life on Emery, an' so that I can go back teh me backwash home!" He stormed off down the corridor towards the entrance to the upper decks.

Rebecca found her voice once again. "You know, if you had even bothered to read more of my journal, you'd probably be choosing your words differently, John Silver!" Rebecca called down the hallway to the angered young man.

The black-haired woman slammed the door behind her, tears swimming in her pale green eyes. Her heart sank with her until she was sitting on the floor of her room. She wrapped her arms around her legs and sobbed into her lap.

"You know guys… I'm kind of getting worried about Rebecca…" Juanita sat at a table in the HMS Aurora's mess hall with Jim, Martin and Jarred.

"I too share your concern, Juanita…" Martin looked gravely at the other sailors. "Miss Rebecca hasn't left her quarters all week and has been allowing only Scroop into her quarters in order for him to serve her meals."

"Do you think something has happened between Rebecca and the Captain?" Jarred asked.

"You know…" Jim said through a mouthful of food, "you just might be right lover-boy…" Jarred growled at the nickname while Jim stirred at his food experimentally, swallowing what he had eaten. "Johnny-Boy's been unusually bitter lately and I don't think that the weather's to blame… something's definitely up."

"I've been trying to talk with Rebecca all week but…" Juanita sighed. "She simply doesn't want to talk to anyone."

"Well, I hope Johnny-Boy cheers up sooner than later…" Jim ate more of his meal.

"Why?" Martin enquired.

"Well one…" Jim swallowed his food as he held up one finger. "It's making me get a little depressed… and two," he held up another finger, "tomorrow's his birthday…"

"What?" The table's other occupants asked simultaneously.

"How is it that you know this?" Martin asked.

Jim finished his meal. "Well… all week, I've been doing some calculations…"

"So that's what that smell was…" Jarred chirped with a cheeky grin.

"Shut up 'Red…" Jim rolled his amber eyes, "any way, I've done enough study of the time changes to calculate the actual date on Romano of today, which is the day before Johnny's twenty-fourth birthday."

"I see…" Martin stroked his chin in thought. "Anyway… the only means of solving this problem is knowledge of the actual problem." He stated plainly. "Juan, perhaps you should try to speak with Rebecca once more, she's bound to eventually open up to you."

"I don't know, Marty…" Juanita rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "She's a tough nut to crack, I'll tell you that…"

"Just try." Martin implored. He then turned the brunette first mate. "Jim, you of all of us know John the best, I think you should try to speak with him."

"I'll try…" Jim shrugged, "but I mean, he keeps himself locked up in his quarters all day… only comes out everyone once in a while to check the coordinates, and even then he doesn't want to talk… the only person he'll actually let in on a daily basis is Scroop."

"Don't you two see?" Jarred realized, "John and Rebecca both have one connection." He paused as his companions looked at him. "Scroop."

Author's Note:

Thank you, Whisperwings (as always) for your very helpful betaing.

MG#6