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Antidote	By : Zarafla_Kirtan-Pherrin Category: zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] > Treasure Planet Views: 838 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to Treasure Planet, Anastasia, or Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas. Nor do I profit from this. Enjoy my madness. Otherwise, sod off!! :D

Chapter List
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Antidote-

Paired Couple: Jim HawkinsXDimitri Sudayev/SLASH!/Lemon

A/N: Things are gonna get weirder and weirder... Hold onto your hats! Treasure Planet belongs to Disney. Anastasia belongs to Fox Animation. Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas belongs to Dreamworks.

Dimitri, Delbert, and Targon stood around the wheel of the ship, looking over a detailed, grid map of the quadrant that the ship was now currently in. It had been two days since the repairs had started and the other two could tell that the captain was getting anxious. Dimitri had hardly rested during that time, looking haggard and grim to be around. He spoke briefly and to the point, cutting out any unnecessary chit-chat that didn't pertain to moving the ship or it's progress.

"Doppler, you say that all we need now is the fuel?" He said tiredly.

"That is correct. My readings indicate that we only have enough fuel to pump this ship a little under five leagues before it completely gives out."

"I see..." Dimitri dragged a finger across the map, following the grid lines with precision. He held his index finger over a point towards the upper right side of the map. "We are here right now. And if we take this route," He traced his finger over the paper again about three inches towards the lower right corner, right next to an illustration of a planet. "we should end up at Razboon in a days' travel. They should have some fuel there, since this is a pretty remote region in the galaxy and most ships come looking around there for fuel and restocking provisions."

"But, Sir," Targon started, looking over the measurements along the edges of the map, calculating how long that three inch line was in scale to the map. "That looks like it goes sixty leagues."

"I know. That's why I need you, Doppler, and two others to go take a cruiser and head over there and get the fuel for us."

"Wait a minute! Why me?" Doppler complained.

"Well, you're the only one that knows what kind of fuel we need." Dimitri reasoned. "Who else could go, but you?"

"How did you ever refill the ship with fuel before, if you didn't know what fuel it was?"

"Troy was the only one that knew what fuel we needed." Targon replied.

Dimitri nodded. "Troy'd been with this ship since Augustus was made captain, or so I hear."

"Oh boy..." Doppler leaned back against the railing of the ship. It was up to him now to know what fuel they needed.

Dimitri rubbed the stubble of his unshaven jaw, thinking. "Okay, all we need is for you four to go to Razboon, get the fuel, and come back here. In the meantime, I'll order the others to move the ship to some discreet location so that no one will chance upon us while we wait. This expedition should take two days to complete. Now, if either of you should encounter problems, send me a signal and I'll dispatch another cruiser to come in after you." He handed over a curious, oval device with one button on it in the dead center. The device weighed at approximately a pound and a half.

Doppler knew immediately what it was; it was like a remote that would send out a pulsation to another device that Dimitri had clipped to his sheath. The pulsation was like a beacon, which would alert the other person with the device about where to locate where the pulsing was coming from. It had been a while since Doppler had held onto one of these. He hadn't seen one since he was a child.

"Hopefully, with any luck, we don't have to use these." Dimitri added as an after thought.

Doppler clipped it to his belt. The captain also handed him a bag of doubloons and a blaster, which he also took, albeit with gingerly care.

"Get what we need and come back soon." The brunette looked at Targon and Doppler with a stern gaze, but the astrophysicist could see a hardness in his irises; anyone with his perception could have picked up that Dimitri was anxious and worried.

Targon spoke up. "We'll take Masterson and Engle, Cap'n."

"Very well. Let me know when you guys have landed on Razboon." He put a tightening hand on each of their shoulders. "Good luck."

"Aye, Captain." The twosome said.

~/~/~/~/~/~/

Doppler chewed absentmindedly on a piece of hardtack, missing the meager meal they had for lunch an hour ago. Although there was plenty of food to last them until they got back to the ship in two more days in the one pack they brought with them, they had to conserve it as much as possible. Engle was at the controls of the little cruiser, aiming it towards Razboon, which grew closer and closer. It had only been twenty-three hours since they left The Compass Blade behind, in which Dimitri had immediately ordered the ship to hide behind a nebulonic cloud to avoid any possible detection from unwanted visitors as soon as the four crew members left on their mission almost a day ago.

Masterson kept a large, watchful eye to the Etherium, holding a blaster in his clawed hands. Targon kept a tight hold on the map that detailed the planet's various ports and towns.

"Due left, at fifteen knots." Targon said to Engle, who adjusted the steering accordingly.

"This is going to take quite a little while longer, I suppose." Doppler muttered, setting the hardtack down next to him.

"We've about an hour before we come up on the planet's surface, Doc. Shouldn't be too long now." The crustacean said, his red eyes gleaming in anticipation as he looked upon Razboon.

Doppler stared up into the stars, wondering how Jim was holding up. If only Jim had never left The Benbow Inn, neither of them would be branded in with pirates and none of this would have happened. He sighed, shaking his head. It was too late now for wishes. He just hoped that Jim was still alive and well.

"Sir, there's someone coming up on us!" Masterson yelled, pointing a gnarled talon towards the far left of them.

A fleet of thirty, small cruisers sped through the Etherium, immediately gaining up on them. From the rear of the fleet, a ship half the size of The Compass Blade came into view, solar sails fully furled and its flag bearing a blue ten-pointed star with a yellow crescent moon peeking from behind it.

A magnified voice called to the four pirates from the vessel, a voice that seemed familiar to Delbert, although he wasn't sure why. "Halt where you are! This is Captain Amelia of the Galaxy Police, Sector Five, Quadrant Six-Six-Zero. You are under arrest!"

The name across the side of the ship was stamped in regal lettering. RLS Legacy.

~/~/~/~/~/~/

"Shit! Looks like we'll have to outrun them." Targon moved to the front of the cruiser. "Engle, hand me the controls. I'll steer us out of this."

"B-But they said we have to-" Doppler sputtered, ducking as soon as the first shots were made from the fleet cruisers.

"Don't have to do anything, Doppler! They'd have us hang if they caught us! Are you a pirate or not?" Engle scolded the astrophysicist, shooting his blaster back at the enemy with a light of blood lust in his feline eyes. His tiger-striped coat bristled as a shot came close to hitting him.

Masterson handed Doppler an extra blaster from his holster. "Shoot 'em!" He took up his own gun, his dark blue feathers standing on end like Engle's fur.

As the three took down two cruisers and were aiming for third, fourth, and fifth ones, Targon took a sharp right turn while hitting the switch for turbo power. Their trajectory increased ten fold, but Targon couldn't hold the turbo for long, as it would kill their power within twenty minutes. He encircled his claw around the steering wheel, hoping that there would be a place for them to lose their pursuers. And then, in his peripheral, he saw it.

"Hold on, lads!"

Targon headed for a huge satellite that was about a few thousand feet away. When straightening out from the turn, a single blast singed a hole through a solar sail and hit Engle in the shoulder. He hissed in pain and held the injury tight, blood leaking from under his fingers.

Targon engaged the throttle and zipped around the satellite, almost crashing in to the hunk of hard wiring in the process. Expertly, the First Mate killed the engines and stopped the turbo as soon as their craft was hidden well in a pocket of darkness.

"What in the blazes are you doin', Tar-" Targon pinched Masterson's beak closed, signaling all of them to be silent.

Seconds later, the huge contingent of Galaxy Police cruisers, followed by the slower moving RLS Legacy, zoomed past them without giving the satellite a second glance.

Delbert toppled to the deck, having almost fainted. "Upon my word..." he panted, "...I thought... we were... done.. for..."

Masterson, Targon, and Engle broke out into laughter. "Come on, Doc. Man up a little!"

"There's nothing like an adrenaline rush when you're being gunned down by the G.P.!" Masterson smiled widely.

Engle winked at him, although wincing in pain from his injury. "Maybe Doppler should come with us on our next expedition. He'd get a real kick out of it."

Oh, geez...

~/~/~/~/~/

An hour later, they slowly came down to port in a little town that the map only stated as "Lime". Whatever the real name of the town was, no one knew, since the welcome sign for the community was so old, the letters were faded into illiteracy. As the four of them looked around the docks, they could see no signs of life within the desecrated buildings. Instead of letting their cruiser sit at one of the docks, they sped the craft through the deserted streets, looking for somewhere to hide it.

Ten minutes later, they came upon a large building that looked to be what once was a storage facility. Masterson took over the controls while Targon, Doppler, and an injured Engle pushed the large, metal doors open. After getting the rusty, creaking hinges to obey them, the bird-like creature led the craft inside and shut it off.

"How're you feeling, Engle?" asked Targon.

"I can't use this arm for much, that's for sure." He said, gripping his shoulder.

"Let's get it bandaged."

Doppler tied off the gauze wrap two minutes later, worried about how much blood was seeping into the fabric. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine, Doc." he said, waving off his concern.

"Although you say you're okay, we can't risk that." Targon stated. "We still need the cruiser guarded until we get back anyway." It wasn't a request.

"Aye, Sir." The felinoid hopped back into the craft and threw down the pack of supplies. He sat down and waited, his blaster gun in hand. "I'm going to see if I can repair the solar sail while you guys go get the fuel."

"We'll be back later tonight. Be prepared to fly this thing when we get back. We don't want to risk any chances." And with that, Doppler and Masterson closed the heavy steel doors of the storage facility, securely hiding Engle and the cruiser within its dark confines.

The three of them headed down the street, cautiously peeking around corners, hoping to find a local of Lime or a place that happened to store fuel. Delbert looked down an alley, feeling his hackles rise. The dead silence of this place, the abandonment of the streets... It gave the astrophysicist the creeps. He gulped audibly, gripping his blaster tightly, hands shaking and palms perspiring.

"Hey, come look at this!" Masterson called aloud from several feet ahead of the other two.

Targon and Doppler came to stand beside him and began to notice long, white marks painted on several doors of the buildings.

Doppler adjusted the glasses on his snout and peered at the paint of one door, which looked to be flaking and weather-worn. "What do you think they're for?"

"They died."

The three of them turned around to face a human female, who wore a decrepit dress the color of ash, silver-streaked blond hair thrown back into a messy bun, and faint age lines around her mouth, eyes, and forehead. Her back stooped slightly, carrying the heavy burden of long, lonely years. Doppler was guiltily reminded of Sarah back at home.

He should have left a note before he chased after Jim.

"They all died." The woman reiterated. "The white marks indicate their graves. This town used to be much bigger, but there's only forty of us left now."

"What happened here?" Targon asked her.

"Fifty years ago, a radiation spill on the outskirts of town poisoned the citizens that were close enough to it. It was an accident; someone was working with a new type of metal they had discovered and excavated many miles from here. But they didn't know that when the metal heated up to a certain degree, it'd turn into a gaseous state. That gas was poisonous upon contact. It killed two-thirds of the people living here." She looked down between her feet. They noticed for the first time that she was barefoot. "I was twelve at the time. My family perished in the epidemic."

"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am." Doppler said, coming over and taking her hands in his. "If there's anything we can do for you, you have only to ask."

Targon and Masterson gave him a look, but remained silent.

She shook her head and looked into his eyes with a sad smile. "There's nothing you could do for me. I plan to stay here until I rejoin my family again." Her sea-green eyes rimmed with tears.

"...Thank you for sharing your story with us. I hope that you are able to see your family when your time comes."

"Thank you, kind stranger. It seems that you and your friends are in need of help yourselves, though. Is there something I can do to help you?"

"As a matter of fact," Targon said, "there is. Would you direct us to where your town keeps its fuel for Etherium ships?"

"Well, we haven't used Etherium ships in a long time-not since the epidemic-but we should have a huge stock of them on the other side of town in that direction." She pointed a bony finger to the South East. "You'll be looking for an Etherium ship hangar, the only big building on that side. An elderly cyborg owns it; he tinkers with all sorts of gadgets back there. Mainly with solar surfers. He's got a real sharp attitude about him. If you can get on his initial good side, you might be able to barter a price with him for the fuel."

"Thank you for the information. We'll head over there."

Just as the threesome headed towards their goal, Delbert turned around to say goodbye. "Have a wonderful-"

He looked around, confused. The woman had disappeared.

~/~/~/~/~/

An hour later, as the sun was setting, they came upon a large, stonework building with boarded up windows and a rusted, metal garage door big enough to fit five medium-sized freight cruisers side-by-side inside. On the left side of the building, a heavy wooden door led to the mysterious depths of the hangar.

Silently deciding upon the wooden door, they stood before it.

"...I have a bad feeling about this place." Masterson quietly spoke, his eyes darting around and feathers ruffling uncomfortably. He held a steady talon on the trigger of his gun.

The First Mate rapped his claw upon the door. "Let's just make this quick."

A slight breeze rolled down the street, but nothing stirred in its presence. Doppler pulled his waist coat around himself more securely, wishing it wasn't so cold.

As Targon raised his claw to knock again, the door creaked inward, beckoning the three of them into the faint inner glow and surrounding darkness. A cybernetic, blue eye peeked between the door and the frame.

"Who's come to call at me doorstep?" Answered a voice.

Targon, as fearless as ever, responded. "Three... travelers... looking for a cyborg. Are you the one who could provide us with fuel?"

The eye swiveled in its socket, sizing each of them up. "Look like no travelers I know of."

"How many would you know of?"

"...Fair enough. But that brings about another question of mine. What are you doing at a remote planet such as this?"

"Our ship ran low on fuel. Will you help us, or not?"

"Well, if you're not here to cause trouble-"

"We're not." Masterson interjected, his patience wearing thin. "We're just in a big hurry."

The door slammed shut at his words. Targon narrowed his six eyes at Masterson. "Nice going."

A second later, the door opened back up, wide enough to let them through.

"Well, make yourselves at home then. But mind you, don't knock anything over."

They stepped inside the old hangar, of which was full of electronic parts stacked in heaps and piles around the floor. Some piles came up to Doppler's knees, while others almost reached the vaulted ceiling. The piles of tools and gadgets created a narrow pathway that wound a third of a mile to the other side of the building. At the end of the path was a large metal workshop table, cluttered with parts, wires, and an electric lamp, and a single wooden chair that had seen better years. A curious perch, one that a bird would sit on, stood next to the table. Squeak toys and small bones cluttered the floor around the perch.

"Looks like Gishna went off hiding again. She'll be around sooner or later." The hulking figure in front of them muttered.

The old cyborg sat down in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. He was somewhat lean in frame, probably from the slow deterioration of his advanced years, but he still possessed strong, lean muscles on his old bones. He wore an apron over a thick blue shirt and a rope kept his dark pants upon his body.

"The name's Seegurd. Conig Seegurd. Now, what do I owe the pleasure in your visit?"

~/~/~/~/~/

A/N: The familiar face... Amelia! -everyone cheers- The celebrity... Conig Seegurd! -crickets chirping- … You know! The guy that I mentioned in "Poison" as being one of Jim's role-models? The guy who invented solar surfers? There's a celebrity for ya! :D R&R as always! We're just getting to the good part. Oh, and Amelia doesn't just make a one-time appearance either, so stay tuned! ^^
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