Chapter 1 "The beginning of a wonderful friendship"

She had been ten years of age, when Jacqueline Morrison lost her mother and became an orphan, like so many other children in the filthy streets of Tortugas. She lost her mother, a first-class whore in a freak fire, when her home, the second story of a brothel, went up in flames. Little Jacqueline was out of the house playing with her friends, bastard children like herself, not knowing their father, however having a prostitute mother.

Living in a brothel wasn't actually that bad for a child like Jacqueline. Her numerous 'aunts' treated her like their kin, and even the pimp leading the brothel seemed to become something of a father figure in her young life. She was the only child living in the brothel with her mother, locked in her mother's private quarters at night, when her mother went on doing her 'job' and playing and talking to her 'family' during the day.

Jacqueline lost everything in the fire: her home, her 'family' and her future. When the brothel burned down, the pimps and whores had nothing. Nobody had the money to keep Jacqueline with them; nobody even cared since they were troubled with their own personal ruin. And withe the growing poverty, the love for Jacqueline vanished. They abandoned the helpless, little girl in the streets of the most notorious pirate town in the seventeenth century: Tortuga.

Now she was all alone.

Eight years later:

"Are ye aware of the dangers o' sailin' with the most dangerous pirate crew o' the Spanish main? Ye might get injured, killed or worse?"

"What's worse than being killed?"

"Tortured alive by the lobsters or the East Indian trading company! They nick a 'P' on yer forehead, if they catch ye, that is... The Spanish navy pour boilin' oil over yer skin, leaving horrific scars not only on yer skin but also on yer mind!"

The chubby first mate chuckled, revealing rotting teeth, when he saw the reaction of the youngster in front of him, wanting to join his crew of pirates.

The youngster nodded, a distant look in his eyes, "Aye, sir. I am aware of the risks.."

".. I was more contemplating the consequences, but fine.."

The youngster gave him a look.

The first mate, wearing white breeches, faded into a dirty grey-brownish, a worn shirt, and a blue west, had graying hair and hamster like whiskers, growing on his cheeks. He couldn't help but chuckle at the figure in front of him; A sprinkle little lad, mustn't be older then seventeen of age! Mayhap the captain would approve of a new cabin boy, since the last was scarred away, when interrupting his captain by... non-captaincy duties. Poor lad, the pirate thought, his memories back with their late cabin boy.

"What is yer name, lad?"

The youngster took great interest in his boots when answering, "Jac... Jacque... sir. Jacque Morris."

"Well, whaddaya say! Yer captains name is Jack as well!" he guffawed.

Jacque shot him a look again.

"Well, alright, welcome a board the Black Pearl mate. I be Joshamee Gibbs, the first mate, call me Gibbs, an' stick to me the first couple o' weeks."

Jacque nodded, "Thank ye, sir."

Gibbs took a swig of his trusty hipflask, which he kept in his west pocket. The Caribbean was too damn hot for his liking at times, especially in the merciless noon sun. One would think the temperatures out here on the docks near the 'cool' water would be lower then on land, but the sun was reflected more aggressively of the water and therefore creating a heated and blinding atmosphere.
Gibbs started walking down the dock towards the gangplank leading up upon the ship, The Black Pearl.

All the damn squinting one did from keeping the sun from ones eyes was just leading to vicious headaches, and Gibbs was considering starting to wear the black kohl that most sailors did to help fighting the sun. Even though, in his captain's case it seemed almost more like decoration.

Gibbs noticed how the whelp followed him closely. What a weird character anyway? His captain ordered him out into Tortuga to look for some new blokes, who'd be willing to join the crew of the infamous Black Pearl. The captain needed to stock up his crew, since he lost a great deal of his late crew in the last sea battle against 'The Siren' and its captain, Captain John Crimson, "That dog..." Gibbs thought.
Gibbs sighed heavily and took a seat upon one of the wooden boxes standing around on the dock. He was already in his fifties, the pirate business wearing him out. He just wanted to get the next treasure, which his captain promised him to be the largest in the Caribbean, and then he would retire, move to a nice secluded island with his daughter, treating her like the princess that she was, with the money he would soon earn. He took another swig of his hipflask, trying to drench the thirst in his dried throat.

'Too bloody hot...'

But all that lead the old pirate back to the whelp in front of him. The lad seemed interested in the ship, eyed it from top to bottom. Something about the kid wasn't right though, he could feel it in his weasily black pirate guts. Mayhaps, because the lad insisted in keeping his face half covered. A floppy had pulled far down into his freckled face, and a coat on his shoulders, even though the heat... was he trying to go unnoticed? Disguised?

"Eh.. Whelp, why ye wearin' that scarf around yer face?"

The whelp seemed interrupted in thoughts and eyed the chubby man in front of him.

It was true, he was partly disguising his face, "I got in a fire once... me lower half of me face got burned badly, left nasty scars."

Gibbs eyebrow raised upon his forehead, "Well, don't ye worry 'bout that anymore, pirates dun' need tee be pretty..."

The whelp seemed to chuckle to himself, "Aye... But I dun wanna ruin yer lunch."

Gibbs mouth shaped itself into a surprised 'O' and seemed to understand.

Poor lad, the pirate thought.

But still, something wasn't right. A half disguised bloke shows up randomly willing to join a crew, even though he never has been in the pirate business. 'Well we all start somewhere', Gibbs thought and dismissed further suspicions.

"So, what will be my duties?"

"As a cabin boy..?"

The bloke seemed to start fidgeting.

"Well, ye pretty much do all the dirty work", Gibbs grinned, "Clean the captains quarters, holystone the floors, ye kno'... the stuff no one else ain't gonna do. Aye..." he seemed deep in thought until his face lit up, "An' for god's sake, lad, keep out of the captains way. A cabin boy is supposed to go unnoticed, but stayin at the heel of the captain at the same time. Ye'll be cleaning his cabin from puke when he 'wakes with a hangover, ye'll collect empty rum bottles and ye'll help the ladies out of the cabin the next mornin'.. they appear to be hung over most of the time.."

For a brief second the lad looked disgusted. As far as eyes could show disgust. But

then he seemed to accept his chores.

The whelp returned his awed gaze to the mighty ship behind them, 'Aye', Gibbs thought, 'she's a beauty, admire her as much as ye want, lad.'

"The fastest vessel in the Spanish main, lad.'

Jacque seemed impressed, nodded, "Aye, I've heard the stories about her and her captain. An her late captain, Captain Barbossa, I believe?"

Gibbs seemed to shudder, quickly pulling his hipflask out again, "Aye.. that rat.. but Jack got him good, he did.. got him real good, an' now the 'Pearl's back to her rightful owner."

The lad nodded.

Gibbs was getting sick of waiting, and the whelp was difficult to talk to. Didn't seem very talkative. That would be better for him anyways, though.. since cabin boys, especially newbie cabin boys weren't taken on the crew very easily. Better shut his eaten' hole, Gibbs thought, but he was bored at the moment, "So ye ever thought ye'd get ta sail with the infamous Captain Sparrow?"

The lad seemed to chuckle again, "Nay, sir, I can't say so. I just took me chances, when I heard about him lookin' far a new crew."

"GIIIIAABS!", a drunken, however very loud voice cried through the sunny day in the caribean.

"Ah, the timings almost perfect, meet ye new captain.. here he comes."

Jacque stared down the dock, in order to catch a glimpse of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, the one escaping the East Indian Trading Company, the one mastermind sacking the port of Nassau without firing one single shot, the man fighting a crew of undead pirates, hunting his only true ladylove, his Pearl, for nearly ten years.

The figure coming towards them seemed like anything but a fierce pirate captain laughing into the face of death... Actually.. he seemed rather drunk.
The man was wearing grey breeches, tucked into worn boots, a white shirt, that was well worn, a blue west over that, a stash with multiple things upon it, including a compass, a flask, a pistol and a sword. Upon his shirt he was wearing a worn out west and on top of that a coat, that seemed like it had been washed with all sorts of waters. Literally. But the most eye-catching about this exotic figure was his hair! heck! His whole head!

His hair was the definition of a mess, tangled hair, dread locks, pearls woven into it, a red bandana across his forehead and a leather tri-cornored hat upon his head as sort of a crown. But what was really striking was that face of his. Dark brown eyes, as dark they appeared black, outlined with black kohl. It made him look very mysterious if not a little dangerous. To top it all he had two braides hanging like goatees of his chin. He somewhat resembled the devil with that goatee. And perhaps, Jacque thought, that was him standing over there, about to greet him.

He swayed over. Rather drunkenly, that ruined the whole 'dangerous' illusion and his hands seemed to mirror his words,

"Gibbs! 'Been lookin' for ya all day! Have ye found the ten blokes?"

Gibbs seemed uncomfortable, "Ehh.. not quite yet, Captain, however I did find ye a new cabin boy. This whelp 'ere be Jacque.. Morris, I believe?", he looked at Jacque who merely nodded.

Jack Sparrow studied the lad for a moment, "Jacque it is..?"

The lad seemed to fidget under the pirate captain's intense gaze. Those eyes seemed to intrude the very soul of a person. The whelp avoided them therefore for a reason and found interest in his boots once again, "Aye.. I be willin' te sail with ye, Captain Sparrow."

"Why, welcome aboard, young man. How old be ye?", the captain inquired. The kid seemed no older then seventeen!

"Eighteen, sir."

"Why are ye all disguised and such?"

Gibbs thought he should cut in, "Sir, the whelp has suffered a fire accident, and told me 'imself, he didn't want to ruin no ones lunch."

The captain studied him still, "Aye.. I see.. Well, young Morris, let Gibbs show ye around upon me ladylove and show ye to yer duties and chores. Mayhap Gibb's get ye a sword or somthin' I believe we got some in the hold. I must be goin'!", and with that, the bronze-tanned man left the two pirates on the dock and swayed away, much like his namesake towards the bustling pirate town.