Ok, this is an idea I'm toying with. I thought it'd be fun to do a Treasure Planet story, a here it is.

Updates may be slow, so send me reviews to encourage me! Ha. Oh, and sorry for any typos; broken keyboard is broken.


Tell me what you think, and enjoy!

Our boots and shoes are all in pawn

Go down, you blood red roses, go down

It's flaming drafty round Cape Horn

Go down, you blood red roses, go down

Ah, you pinks and posies

Go down, you blood red roses, go down

Ambling down the rough road, really nothing more than a worn strip of dirt through the empty country-side, I quietly sang one of the old songs I knew by heart. A spacer I'd once crossed paths with had told me it was and old sea shanty, a sailor song. It certainly had the ring of truth. I kicked a pebble farther down the path with my worn boot.

But I was sure my mother had sung that melody to me when I was young. How had she learned it? Maybe from my father. It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest; he was usually away on his ship, doing his short hauls, when mom was still with us. He could've brought it home with him.

Or maybe I'd learned it from him, after mom's passing, once he started to take me on his frequent voyages. I could've just picked it up from the crew on my own as well, I guess. I can't be sure; it was getting to be six year ago now… no five. I'm only fifteen; dad fell overboard when I was ten.

A moan from my stomach served as a distraction from my dark memories. Looking up, I saw an inn along a separate path, just at the top of the hill I had been shirting around. A wooden sign with "Benbow" written on it creaked on the quickening wind. A storm was coming. Checking my pocket I figured I'd scammed and saved enough credits for a meal and a small room.

It must be around dinner time, because the little inn was full to bursting. I found myself an empty table that was as far-removed from the chaos as possible. Not being able to find a menu, I planned to order myself the chef special. However, as I glanced around I noticed that one lone woman was taking all the orders, making all the food, and cleaning all the tables. As she finally made her way over to me she looked like she was ready to fall over.

"Can I help you?" She asked with a surprising amount of politeness for being so tired.

"Oh, I'll just have a sandwich." I replied, not wanting my order to be even more of a burden on her. But as she looked me over, she shook her head.

"Dear, you're so thin. I'll get you some stew." She insisted before bustling away.

"Please, I don't want to be a bother." I tried to say, but went unheard. She returned much sooner than it had taken her to come to my table initially.

"Thank you, ma'am." I said as gratefully as possible as she gave me a substantial bowl full of wonderful smelling stew and a spoon. She just gave me a motherly smile. I could tell she knew I was an orphan; it was that kindly but sad smile.

"What's your name, dear?" She asked me.

"Sowyer Bolash, ma'am." I replied, staring up at her with my dark blue eyes, a smile twitching in the corners of my mouth.

"You can call me Sarah, or Mrs. Hawkins." She said with a tinkling little laugh before being called away by a persistent tentacled alien needing a refill on her juice.

"Thanks, Mrs. Hawkins." I said softly before turning to my stew. It was wonderful and tasted just as good as it smelled it should.

I hadn't been eating long before the door on the other side of the room flew open and cracked against the wall. Two police units filled the doorframe and pushed a boy about my age ahead of them.

"Jim!" I heard Mrs. Hawkins gasp before dropping an armful of dishes. I looked back to the boy; he was actually rather handsome, in a devil-may-care sort of way, which instantly made me dislike him. I tried not to listen as the police units informed Mrs. Hawkins (obviously someone related to this Jim, probably his mother) of his delinquent behavior, and to the ensuing lecture between the two, but it was hard to miss.

"What future?" I heard him mumble before disappearing into what was most likely the kitchen, through a door situated right next to my table. Looking down into my stew, despite instantly pegging the guy as a no-ender, I felt a nagging sense of understanding.

"What future, indeed." I muttered. Not exactly knowing why, I picked up my bowl and entered the kitchen as well. I just noticed the boy's boots on the outside of an open window before they disappeared. Wondering how I would climb onto the roof after him with a bowl of stew in my hands, I was relieved to see a ladder attached to the side of the inn right outside the window.

"What do you want?" I heard a voice growl as I heaved myself onto a flat part of the roof.

"Oh, hello." I said, turning to face the boy, who was farther up the roof and leaning against a chimney.

"What do you want?" He asked again, glaring at me.

"Somebody's moody. I was just making sure you're alright and not going to hurdle yourself off the roof." I said gruffly, crossing my arms and returning his glower.

"Sorry. It's not been the best day." He said after a few moments, looking a little ashamed of himself. It appeared as though he'd had some manners driven into his head then.

"Cops bringin' you home to your overworked mother not your proudest moment?" I asked in a teasing way. The boy seemed to pick up on it, because I think I saw the hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth before he rubbed a hand over it.

"No, not really." He said, looking wistfully up into the quickly gathering storm clouds. The wind picked up and made his hair whip around his face in a way that made me stop. He turned his eyes back to me, so I quickly diverted mine.

"Well we all disappoint our parents from time to time." I said, clearing my throat.

"What, your parents already gave you the juvenile hall lecture?" He asked, with a smirk.

Does it look like I've got them around, with the way I look?" I asked, pulling on a thread of my "skirt". It was really made from an old area rug I'd found cheap in a market on Calinipus a year ago. And my shirt was one of my dad's; it actually kind of fit me now, after all these years of wearing it.

"You're an orphan?" The boy asked softly.

"I'm an orphan." I repeated with a sigh as I laid down on my back, my hands behind my head, "But if mom and dad were alive now, they certainly wouldn't be too keen on the things I do nowadays, I'll tell ya."

"What do you do?" He asked. I laughed, a short, barking laugh, as I sat up again to look at him.

"Not a whole helluva lot, lad." I said, slipping into some of the spacer talk I'd been influenced by.

"Well it's nice to know I'm not the only one wasting all their potential." The boy said with that same little hint of a smile.

"I'm Sowyer Bolash, ya felon." I said to him, smiling in the same way.

"Jim Hawkins to you, street urchin." He replied, quick with another joking insult. I think he was about to add something, but just then the humming and sputtering of a failing ship engine broke the silence. Looking past the chimney, Jim and I saw a beat-up, old ship falling from the sky, a trail of choking smog behind it. By some amount of luck it managed to land on a dock and not into the gully beside the Benbow.

"Oh no." I uttered, a hand over my mouth. Jim slid right off the roof and ran towards the dock; after a moment's hesitation I followed. Thankfully my heavy work boots made my landing less painful. Jim was calling to the captain and knocking on the window by the time I caught up with him. The window sprang open and sent an aged salamander sprawling onto the dock; a personal-sized chest followed him out.

"He's after my chest, that fiendish cyborg." The salamander told us after coughing the smoke out of his lungs, "But they'll have to pry it from old Billy Bones's cold dead fingers-" That was all he could add before succumbing once more to his hacking cough.

"Billy Bones?" I asked him, pushing Jim back for a moment, "Billy Bones, First Mate on the MS Desperado?"

"Not n'more, lass." The salamander croaked, groaning as Jim moved around me to help him stand, "Was-it to ya?"

"Sir, you must have known my father, maybe even me. He was a deckhand on the Desperado, and I remember you! Carter Bolash was his name, and I'm Sowyer." I said excitedly as I supported his other arm.

"Oho! Ol' Lily-Livered Bolash. Ah yes, I remember." Bones said, following a hissing little laugh.

"Lily-Livered?" I questioned, "What was my father lily-livered about?" Being a coward was a serious offense around spacers; and I remember my father always being one of the bravest men onboard. He did whatever he had to to protect me.

"Oh, about somethin' involving you, I 'spect, if you were really on board the Desperado with us-" But he had to interrupt himself to cough once more.

"You whats?" I asked him desperately, "What were you all? What were you all hauling to the worst parts of the Etherium? And how did my father fall overboard? Who let it happen?" I didn't realize I'd started to shout, or to cry, until Jim interrupted me.

"Uh, Sowyer? He's passed out." He said soothingly.

"Oh." I said weakly.

"Let's get him up to the Benbow so my mom can look him over, ok?" He continued, starting to drag Bones up the hill, the chest under his other arm.

"Oh, ok." I whispered. Before I knew it, we were stumbling across the doorway, soaking wet from the torrential downpour of rain.

"James Pleiades Hawkins!" I heard Mrs. Hawkins yell as I leaned against the wall and tried not to think about what I was thinking about. But I couldn't get myself to concentrate before I saw Bones falling, dead, to the ground, handing some small parcel to a shocked Jim.

"Too late to ask him." I muttered, running blindly through the inn and out a door somewhere. I heard shattering glass, laser shots whizzing through the air, and the crackling of fire all around me. I had to get away, something bad was happening. Vaguely I heard somebody shouting.

"Where did that girl go?" They said. Did they mean me?

"Sowyer?" That was Jim! Jim is looking for me! But I was too confused to find him. And instinct, my stowaway's instinct, had me fleeing somewhere narrow and dark to wait the chaos out.