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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
- 16
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- 18
Antidote-

Paired Couple: Jim HawkinsXDimitri Sudayev/SLASH!/Lemon

A/N: Treasure Planet belongs to Disney. Anastasia belongs to Fox Animation. Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas belongs to Dreamworks.

Conig lifted himself out of his chair with a rush that Doppler didn't think the old cyborg could possess and ran toward a set of double doors that led farther into the complex. As blasts rocked chunks of ceiling to the ground, Masterson, Targon, and Doppler lowered their heads and followed Conig and his primetorian. As the doors were flung open and they vaulted through the passage beyond, Doppler spied several parts and whole pieces of solar surfers littering the floor.

It seemed odd... somehow...

Just then, a particularly large piece of wood and metal started to rain down over their heads. As Conig was leading them towards another room inside the hangar--towards what seemed to be a small escape pod--the chunk of ceiling came crashing down and hit the old man in the back of the head. As the debris cleared from the air for a moment, Delbert and the others could see that the old cyborg's neck was twisted at an odd angle.

The impact had killed him.

As Gishna started pulling frantically at her owner's hand, starting to wail obscenely as fat tears rolled down her cheeks, Doppler scooped her up in his arms and they proceeded to the small craft.

Out of the corner of Targon's eye, he spotted several fifty gallon tanks on the far side of the room.

“Masterson! Doppler! Here's our cargo!” He said with a mischievous smile. He limped over to the tanks and tossed two tanks to Masterson. “Doppler, get the ship ready to take off!”

“What?! I don't know how to drive--”

“Go to the right! The right!” Yelled a panic-stricken, female felinoid in a regal captain's uniform. “I know, I know! Will you just let me drive?!”

The vague images swam before his eyes and disappeared within an instant. Holding Gishna tight in his arms, the astrophysicist ran toward the small, gray roundish craft with large angular windows, pulling on the heavy steel handle to the door on the side. He didn't have time to analyze what had just happened, but somehow, the small flashback--if that's what it was--gave him the clues to know how to operate the small craft. The buttons felt familiar on the dash board than those of what he assumed was a memory. He pulled on the black lever, jammed his fingers onto a small control panel full of identical red buttons, and pressed his thumb onto a giant green button.

The engine rumbled to life.

Meanwhile, Masterson carried two tanks under his wings, while Targon limped as fast as he could to the escape pod with three tanks, making the trip slightly harder as he dodged chunks of hardware and ceiling falling from the blasts.

“Again, this is Captain Amelia of the Galaxy Police! Surrender now, or we'll reduce your hideout to cinders! We know you're in there! Escape and we'll shoot to kill!”

“Not giving us much choice, is she?” Masterson called over the cacophony.

The voice of this Captain Amelia gave Delbert the shivers... Her voice was eerily like the one in his vision.

As soon as the other two got into the craft, Doppler pulled back on the toggle and lifted them up into the air. Just in luck, a particularly hard impact took out the large metal door. It was late in the evening, but with floodlights streaming on the hangar compound from the ships and fire sprouting along the other side of the building, one would think it was only early morning. As soon as they cleared the door, the building gave a metallic groan and crashed to its foundations.

Ten of the smaller vessels of the Galaxy Police tailed them from the wreckage.

Targon climbed into the passenger seat in the front and hit a switch to open the side view window, his pistol in hand.

“Let's see how these fools handle the likes of me!”

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

He fell back against the cold metal bars of the cell, sporting a torn lower lip and wide, unbelieving eyes. Jim stood defiantly, the kiss having shocked him so badly, that he did the only thing he could think of--ripping a chunk out of the captain's lip to make him stop. Jim knew that if he hadn't done what he did, Sinbad would have continued with this course of action. He wouldn't be raped, if he could help it.

Sinbad stood up, his face cast into shadow. Instead of anger, a stream of curses, an outburst of violence, anything that would indicate his disapproval at being rejected, Jim's gut twisted sickeningly. The sick, masochistic bastard was laughing!

“Oh, Jim. You really think that's going to stop me?” His eyes glittered strangely, flashing crimson before settling back to hazel, in the dim light of the flickering lamp. He touched the wound on his lip with his thumb as we walked back over, looking the blood over as if deciding whether or not to felicitate him for the defiant action. He laughed again. “I will say this: I don't enjoy it as much if there's little struggling involved. If you can leave a bruise or two, the happier I am. To draw blood only makes me crave it more...” He lifted an eyebrow suggestively.

Something was just wrong. From his way of speech, to his actions, and down to his sudden shift in personality. Something changed--or at least, Jim believed so.

Seizing Jim's chin roughly with a vice-like grip of his fingers, he came so close to his captive's ear to whisper in it, chilling the young man to the core.

“Fear is a delicious aphrodisiac, after all... and you look so much like him...”

Letting his chin go, Jim struggled against his bonds, fury and desperation pounding in his veins--a chaser to a cocktail of disaster. Sinbad continued to chuckle sinisterly, watching him wrestle with his restraints. After a moment, he pulled out a wide metal ring from his sash and spun it on one finger, a couple of feet away from Jim, the keys tinkling a merry tune in contrast to the quickly darkening scene. Jim's heart almost gave out with paralyzed cravenness as he stared at the innocent jumble of metal.

“Let's make this night a little bit more interesting, shall we, Hawkins?”

He undid the lock that held the cuffs attached to the chain on his feet first, then his hands. Jim was in no condition to fight, but at least tried.

After kicking, squirming, and biting, Jim found his back against the floor, heart thumping crazy. His tattered shirt was thrown aside. Oddly, he heard the metallic click of a key turning in a rusted lock. He found that his hands and ankles were free.

“I just like a challenge, don't you?”

“WHAT THE HELL--”

A well-placed punch landed in his gut, making him double over. His skin started to coat with cold sweat. Blood seeped out from between his teeth, having bitten his tongue during the impact. He got up on all four trembling limbs, but hands seized his hips roughly and pulled him up against the captain. He jumped; tried scampering away. He only received his pants being jerked off his weakened body for the effort, his head shoved against the floor.

Sinbad just smiled wickedly, inducing a new form of torture on his prisoner.

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

The chase was on. Doppler took control of the wheel, dodging out of the line of fire, as the crazy crustacean open-fired with his blaster at their pursuers. Meanwhile, Masterson kept the tanks from rolling around in the back, harnessing them against the side wall with a bit of rope he chanced upon. Gishna only continued with her shrieks of anguish, missing her deceased owner.

After what felt like hours of rounding tight corners and gunning the engine to its maximum, while Targon kept a steady stream of attack--managing to take out two of the enemy cruisers in the process--Doppler, with some assistance from the harrowed Masterson, managed to come upon the location of their hidden transport.

As the canid came upon the building, however, his heart sank.

The building resembled nothing more than a burning skeletal frame of metal. Amongst the flames, he thought he could make out the charred body of Engle, still sitting in the ruined cruiser. The tiger-striped felinoid was clearly dead. Unable to do anything about it, he continued on with their course, their escape pod still tailed by the other eight heavily armed cruisers.

Just as he was about to take a left-hand turn, Targon pulled himself inside the craft. “I've got an idea on how to get rid of these scumbags!” He declared with a savage grin, pincers clicking with delight. “Doc, when I give the word, you're going to take us starboard as sharp as you can, but keep us steadily towards the port side before you do! In the meantime, Masterson and I are going to give them one hell of a ride!” With that said, Targon headed towards the back of the escape pod in preparation.

Delbert looked over his shoulder in confusion, wondering what the First Mate had in mind. His jaw dropped, gasping like a fish out of water.

“ARE YOU MAD?!?!”

“If I'm not, this probably won't work!”

Ten minutes later, the eight cruisers continued to follow them in hot pursuit as they tried many ways to stop or corner the fugitives. The sides of the escape pod were dented and the left hand window was shattered, but otherwise, the vessel was still intact. They knew that, eventually, they'd hit a vital spot on the vessel and end the chase.

From their point of view, it seemed like the escape pod was looking to go left. A signal was made amongst the cruisers and half of them split off from the group, going back to quickly circle around and hopefully capture the vagabonds.

The galaxy police officers couldn't predict what was about to happen next.

“NOW!”

Doppler, his gut clenching in fear but having no other alternative, jerked the wheel to the right, barely skimming the corner of a deserted, walled-off ship yard. The back hatch to the pod burst open, with Targon's help, and both he and Masterson tossed out the fifth tank of fuel at the oncoming vehicles from the left path and behind them. As it flew into the air, end over end, Masterson and Targon pulled out their blasters and took careful aim.

“HIT THE TURBO, DOC!!!”

The escape pod sped up considerably. And as the tank and the galaxy police vessels quickly fell behind, the blasts peppered the metal shell of the fuel tank with metallic thuds. Only one lucky shot, fired by Targon, hit its mark.

The explosion was unlike any other!

A quaking blast shook the surrounding area, engulfing the eight cruisers in an inferno. As each individual vessel caught fire, they too exploded with a jarring force, one by one like a line of firecrackers--except thousands of times stronger. The heat could still be felt, even though Doppler had maneuvered them about three blocks away in record time.

“Close the hatch!” The astrophysicist screamed over the deafening roar, feeling as if his skin would melt off if he were exposed to the colossal heat wave any longer.

Masterson closed it with an audible bang, his feathers glistening with sweat as he slid down to the floor with exhaustion.

For many moments, no one said a word.

“WHOO! That sure was fun!” Targon laughed triumphantly, also sinking to the floor.

“You may think so!” Doppler replied indignantly, noticing for the first time how bad his hands were shaking on the wheel. “We could have died, if you must know!”

“Oh come now, my dear Doppler,” Masterson said with a jovial laugh. “It wasn't all bad! Without the threat of death every now and then, where would be the sport in what we do? What thrill would there be had?”

“Need I remind you that we lost Engle on this hair-brained mission?” Doppler growled.

The silence that pervaded the small cabin, save the whimpers of the primetorian, made the astrophysicist think it an unwise thing to say. He feared the worst, until--

“...You're right, Doc.” Said Targon somberly. “This ain't no laughing matter. We have indeed lost a valuable crew member tonight. The Captain ain't gonna like this.” He shuffled to the front of the escape pod.

“Allow me to take the wheel, Doc. You've earned your rest.”

From there, the three pirates and the primetorian made their way back out of Razboon's atmosphere and towards the awaiting Compass Blade.

~/~/~/~/~/

A/N: Now how's that for action?! :D The crew, as well as Dimitri, are on their way to exact revenge on Sinbad's ship, as well as coming to Jim's aid! What more exciting surprises await them all?? Stay tuned; this is the turning point you've all been waiting for—Next chapter!
- 16
- 17
- 18
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