A/N: heya! todd here with a new chapter for ya. sorry about the length of this one, but hopefully it'll be worth the read! super duper thanks to kip again, for their phenomenal help with revising this chapter! enjoy!

Chapter Two

It had been about three weeks since Jim set off on his voyage with Captain Silver. Not that he ever actually referred to him as captain, much to Silver's chagrin. Over the past few weeks, Silver had been sure to keep Jim as busy as possible. Scrubbing the deck, helping with all the cooking and cleaning, whatever it took. And between chores, Silver insisted on teaching Jim "important skills." These "skills" mostly consisted of memorizing a glossary of sailing terms, learning how to read maps, how to make proper use of a cutlass, what have you. On this particular evening, while their ship waded through the rosy clouds of the Orion nebula, Silver was teaching Jim how to tie a series of knots while the two sat in the crow's nest, far above the rest of the crew.

Rolling hitch, bowline, sheet bend.

Silver and Jim had been at it for at least a couple of hours, and it was starting to grow dull. Not that Jim was opposed to learning new things, but frankly, everything his mentor said was starting to blur together. Jim looked off into the distance and watched the stars as they passed by them. The wooden edge of the crow's nest was starting to dig into Jim's back. He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

Stopper knot, clove hitch, two half bends.

"...Now the cleat hitch, that's just for securin' yer ship to the dock. Still, handy t' know. Can't have it flyin' away from ye now, hah!"

Jim snapped back to reality to see Silver holding one end of his rope; the other end was tightly secured to the rim of the crow's nest, in place of a proper cleat.

"Well, go on. Give it a whirl, eh, Jimbo?"

Jim raised an eyebrow at him.

"Right."

He turned and, using one of the vertical boards along the rim of the crow's nest, tied a cleat hitch around it with his length of rope. Silver nodded approvingly.

"Not bad, not bad… Y'know, Jimbo, you got a real knack for this."

"It's no big deal. I mean, it's just knots," Jim muttered as he untied the rope.

Silver shook his head. "You don't give yerself enough credit, lad. Street smarts, boat smarts… It's all as important as anythin' else, y'know."

Jim tied some knots absentmindedly, and started zoning out again.

Two half hitches, square knot. Untie the knot. Flemish coil.

Jim felt the sudden pressure of a large, warm hand on his shoulder. He was so startled, he dropped his length of rope over the side of the crow's nest. Morph, ever the helpful blob, chittered and rushed down to fetch it. Jim turned his head to see Silver looking down at him. He hadn't even seen him move so that he was sitting right next to him. He also hadn't realized how, even when he was sitting, Silver towered over him. The harsh red light of the nebula almost made him appear sinister, and Jim would have thought as much if he didn't know any better.

"Jimbo, can I ask you somethin'?"

"Sure."

"Why'd you leave home, lad?"

Jim looked down, silently. He wasn't sure how to answer. He couldn't very well tell Silver the truth. And sure, Silver was aware that Jim was a runaway, but… What would he think if he knew the full story? More importantly, what would he do?

It was a long minute before either of them spoke again; during this stretch of uncomfortable quiet, disturbed only by the soft sound of solar winds beating against the sails, Morph returned to the crow's nest and dropped Jim's rope back in his hands. Jim didn't notice.

"I see… Well, ye don't have t' talk about it, if'n you don't want to."

"It's not that, it's just…" He sighed. "Forget it."

Silver, unsure what else to say, merely went back to tying knots for a few minutes. Jim, feeling awkward, at last broke the silence.

"I don't get this one," He blurted out in pure frustration.

Silver looked up at him.

"Well what's the problem, lad?"

"The double bowline. There's too much going on, I don't get it."

Silver chuckled, and demonstrated the knot once more.

"See, it's just like the bowline, but ye got to loop it twice, not just once, y'see?"

"Yeah, I think so…"

Jim attempted the knot once more, but ended up hopelessly tangling his rope. Silver helped him undo it, and he tried again. This time, he seemed to be getting the hang of it.

"There ya go, lad! You got it."

Jim nodded, and carried on with his practicing. The two continued on in relative silence for a while longer, before Silver stood and stretched abruptly.

"Well, come on then! 'S gettin' late. We ought to get some shut-eye."

Jim followed Silver down the ladder. Silver bid Jim a lukewarm goodnight, and retired to his stateroom. Morph was a bit more affectionate, and offered Jim a nuzzle on the cheek before following after Silver. Jim smiled, and walked back to the barracks to get some rest himself.

As he was making his way to his bunk, exhausted and with his eyes barely open (not that it would have mattered; he could barely see in the cabin anyway,) he felt something move just behind him. He stopped dead in his tracks. He had no reason to think that the creaking floorboards behind him indicated any kind of malicious entity, but Jim had a horrible feeling in his gut. A feeling that was validated the moment he turned around, to see a grotesque form silhouetted by the ruby light seeping in from the cabin entrance.

"Hello, cabin boy," the being growled. It didn't take Jim long to gather that the voice belonged to Scroop, who had been causing trouble for him since day one.

"What do you want?" Jim challenged. He kept his voice low, for fear of disturbing the smattering of crewmen who were already sound asleep in their bunks.

"I know what you're up to, boy," Scroop continued, seemingly undeterred by Jim's attempt to appear threatening.

"Oh yeah? And what's that."

Scroop further encroached on Jim, exoskeleton gleaming. His bile-yellow eyes appeared to glow in the darkness, further disturbing Jim.

"Cozying up to the captain, so you can take my rightful place."

"Rightful place?"

"Don't play dumb with me, boy. I see what you're doing. Cozying up to the captain, trying to be his little protege. Trying to take my rightful place as the captain's successor."

"Listen, bug-brain. I'm not cozying up to anyone. I don't care about anything except getting where I need to go, and that's that."

Jim glared at him. But, try as he might, he just couldn't appear intimidating; to Scroop, Jim was nothing more than a scrawny brat. Jim knew this, and braced himself for whatever may come next.

Scroop only chuckled.

"Rearing for a fight, are we?"

He raised a claw. Jim made the mistake of taking a step backwards, briefly exposing his anxiety over this whole encounter. Scroop cackled. His voice was like gravel being pelted against a window.

"Sleep soundly, cabin boy."

And with that, Scroop returned to his own bunk. Jim laid down, uneasy. He pulled his heavy wool blanket over his head, and let the scratchy thing consume him; he wasn't sure how he'd ever sleep, but he might as well look like he was. Slowly, though, he drifted off, into a restless night of tossing and turning. Dreams of massive pinschers against a sanguine sky, grasping at his throat.

Jim awoke with a start. He bolted upward, nearly bumping heads with none other than Silver, who was standing over his hammock. This realization startled Jim further, and he toppled out of his bunk. This entire three seconds of shock culminated in a hard thud on the floor. Silver could barely contain his amusement. Smiling that wide, gap-toothed smile of his, he chuckled and helped Jim off the floor.

"Sorry t' scare ya lad… Now, keep quiet, keep quiet. Come with me. I want t' show ye somethin'."

Silver left the cabin before Jim could question him as to why he'd woken him up so early in the day, much less in such a frightening way. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Jim dragged himself out of bed, though he was loathe to leave the warmth and security that it provided. He pulled on his jacket and slipped into his boots, and stumbled up the steps to the deck, careful not to wake anyone else. Fortunately, the crew seemed to be comprised entirely of very, very heavy sleepers.

Jim found Silver peering eagerly into the eyepiece of a long, vintage-looking telescope. The thing was a bit beat up; scuffed here and there, a couple dents in the metal. But from the way Silver was gazing into it, like it contained some amazing treasure, it must have worked. Jim approached him, curious. It was entirely unlike Silver to be so enthusiastic about something that didn't involve sailing, or cooking, or scolding Jim for some minor infraction.

"C'mere, Jimbo, take a look."

Silver stepped aside and gestured towards the telescope. The thing was set up so tall to accommodate Silver, he didn't even need to bend over to reach the eyepiece.

A brilliant flash of light and color struck Jim's eye; he was so surprised that at first, he had to step back.

"Whoa! Shit! What was that?"

Silver laughed.

"Keep lookin' lad, it ain't over yet."

Jim once again positioned his eye over the eyepiece, and watched intently. He couldn't believe it. Some distant thing, writhing around itself. Violent flashes of blue and white, dancing through space. It moved so wildly and shone so vividly, it almost seemed alive.

"What is that?" He asked again, unable to tear himself away from the telescope.

"A supernova."

"That's what a supernova looks like?"

Silver nodded.

"Aye. A beauty, ain't she?"

"Yeah. I've never seen anything else like it."

Silver smiled, and nodded.

"That there's a mighty big star, too. No doubt it'll become a black hole in due time."

Jim looked up from the telescope. From that distance, the supernova was naught more than a cobalt glimmer against the deep blue of the etherium. He stared at it for another minute, still in awe. Silver smiled down at him.

"Thank you for showing me this," Jim finally said. "It's really, well… Cool."

Silver chuckled.

"Don't mention it, Jimbo. I knew ye'd like it."

Jim smiled at him. The first genuine smile he'd offered up in the three weeks since he'd met Silver.

"Now, we'd best get a move on," Silver sighed, contented. "Rest o' the crew will be wakin' up any time now. Do me a favor, and check the shrouds for me, will ya Jimbo?"

"You got it, Silver."

For once, Silver didn't glare at Jim upon his refusal to refer to him as "Captain Silver." Jim dashed off and checked, double checked, and triple checked that every shroud and stay was tightly secured and unworn. Just for good measure, he checked all the lines as well, and reported back to Silver that everything was ship-shape.

"Good, lad!" He bellowed from the wheel. "Now, go on down t' the galley and get the fire heated, will ye? I got a breakfast t' cook."

"I'm on it!" Jim replied, and he eagerly ran to the galley. He had found himself in a surprisingly energetic mood. He felt invigorated, even after his night of restless sleep.

Jim hurried down the steps to the galley, and began searching for some matches to light the wood-burning stove. If Silver'd been there himself, he would have set the stove ablaze with the torch stowed away in his cybernetic arm. In fact, Jim sometimes wondered why he bothered to keep the matches aboard in the first place. Still, they were handy to have around, for when Silver was busy elsewhere on the ship.

Jim eventually located the matches, and bent over the edge of the stove to light the wood lying inside the metal rim. Just as he'd gotten a pretty decent fire started, he felt rancid breath beating against the back of his neck. He turned, startled, only to see none other than Scroop standing over him.

"Well, well, well, what have we here," Scroop snarled, in that drawn-out, snake-like way of his.

"I could say the same to you," Jim retorted. He tried to back up, but nearly burned himself on the hot edge of the stove. Instead, he carefully sidled to his right, looking for any opening to escape, or fight. Whichever came first.

"Whatever you think of the captain," Scroop growled, further approaching Jim, "You're wrong."

Jim froze.

"What do you mean?"

"You think he wants to take you under his wing, don't you? Teach you, make you a leader?"

Jim went quiet. Scroop laughed to himself.

"I know that's what you're hoping for," Scroop continued, raising a claw and pressing the razor-sharp point of it against Jim's throat, "But it's never going to happen."

Jim glared at Scroop. He almost didn't want to believe him; for as little as Jim actually trusted Silver, he did, at the very least, appreciate his mentorship.

Scroop went on with his monologue.

"I know Captain Silver, and I have for years. He cares about nothing, except treasure."

Now this caught Jim's attention. His heart raced. Had Scroop somehow found out about the map? Was he planning on ratting Jim out? Was he going to steal it, or worse, kill him for it? Jim anxiously bit at his lip. He'd just have to wait and see.

"You're nothing more than a snot-nosed brat to him. He isn't mentoring you, he's just giving you chores. And you're a damned fool for falling for it," He hissed.

So Scroop didn't know about the map. But then, why would he mention treasure? What did that have to do with…

Suddenly, Jim understood. In one fluid motion, he lunged to the side and grabbed a piece of burning wood, and chucked it at Scroop. It smacked him squarely on the top of the head, lighting his cap, and a fair amount of his hair, ablaze. Scroop screamed out in pain, ripping off his cap and batting desperately at his head in an attempt to extinguish his unwashed, cobwebby hair. Jim took the opportunity to flee. As he was bolting up the stairs, however, Silver himself descended them. Anxious to get away from the both of them, Jim didn't think twice about pushing past Silver and sprinting across the deck.

"What's all this, then?" Silver questioned, not fully grasping what was going on. Scroop ignored him and chased after Jim. In turn, Silver chased after Scroop.

Jim ran around the deck in a blind panic. He had nowhere to flee to, and nowhere to hide. His fearful antics attracted the attention of some of the crew, who slowly gathered to watch this fiasco occur. Eventually, Jim found himself at the bow of the ship. Scroop quickly caught up with Jim, and grabbed him by the back of the shirt. He lifted him a good ten feet off the ground, and held him over the side of the ship. Jim's first instinct was to kick him in the face, but he quickly realized that doing so would likely end with him being dropped into the deep blue abyss of the etherium.

It wasn't another five second before Silver caught up to them, pistol drawn and aimed directly at Scroop's head, which was still haloed by smoke.

"What in blue blazes are you doin', Scroop?" He growled.

"Oh, don't tell me you're soft for this boy, captain," Scroop sneered. He turned his eyes to the crew, the majority of which were now gathered in a half-circle around the trio. The crewmen murmured among themselves; Silver could just make out some words of accusation, and some of dissent. He couldn't let himself lose his composure, not now.

"Yer speakin' pure nonsense, Scroop," He retorted. "There's no need for this, just put the boy down."

Scroop cackled.

"And if I don't?"

Silver cocked his gun in response.

"I'll say it once more. Put. The boy. Down."

Scroop, at last, complied, perhaps not too keen on having his brains splattered on the deck in front of his peers. He threw Jim onto the ground. Jim stood and stumbled away from both Scroop and Silver, wide-eyed and shaking with adrenaline. Silver kept his pistol raised at Scroop, who made no motion to either fight or defend himself. The two stared each other down for quite a time. Even the rest of the crew had fallen into a tense silence. Slowly, though, Silver lowered his weapon, as though he and Scroop had had a full conversation without either of them opening their mouths.

Finally, Jim turned to Silver and spoke up.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

Silver turned to him, having withdrawn his gun. All eyes were now on Jim.

"What do ye mean, lad?"

"You know exactly what I mean," Jim snapped. "You're a pirate. You all are."

Silver took a deep breath, painfully aware that his entire crew was watching. He would have to be careful, no matter what he chose to say or do. One wrong step and he was done for.

"And is that a, ah… a problem for ye, Jimbo?" He said, projecting whatever confidence he could. He straightened himself, and tucked his hands calmly behind his back.

"Yeah it's a problem! It's a huge problem, actually! All this time I've been hanging around with a bunch of murderous thieves, and I didn't even know it. So how do I know you can be trusted, huh?"

The deck was silent once more. Jim could hear his heart beating hard and fast. He felt like he might faint. Why did he decide to confront Silver now, with no way to defend himself? And with the rest of the crew standing not ten feet away from him, he would be completely screwed if he was attacked.

Silver didn't say anything. He looked at Jim, and then looked back at Scroop, and then looked at the crew.

"Well, what are ye just standin' around for?" Silver shouted at the crewmen, all of which were eagerly watching this quandary unfold. "Get back to work, ye brainless twits!"

And like that, the crew moved back to their stations. They were still whispering amongst themselves, but Silver chose not to worry too much about that for the time being. Right now, he had a much bigger beast to boil. Silver grabbed Jim by the wrist, and dragged him to his stateroom.

"Come on. We need t' have a chat, you and I."

Jim was too terrified to speak.