Chapter 1 – The Admiral and The Captain.

The name of the tavern was The Captains Sea Boot. It was a nondescript, rather dingy looking place, squatting like a half-awake toad under a stone at the edge of the ship yard, tucked away between the apothecary and the shiny new chandlers shop.

Compared to the fronts of the shops either side of it, it was rather dilapidated. A faded sign in sore need of a lick of paint swung creakily back and forth over the slightly rotting door frame, itself housing a surprisingly sturdy looking bleached wooden door. It was far smaller and older than its neighbours, always hidden in semi-darkness, no matter the position of the sun. This was probably the reason it was so often overlooked by the towns more wealthier folk, but it drew all the low-life's, the scum-bags, all the shady bane's of polite society like a moth to a flame. The Captains Sea Boot very much reflected its regulars.

Upon entering the little tavern, one would be a tad underwhelmed. The interior was dimly lit, with very little sunlight able to penetrate the thick layer of grime coating the tiny windows. A few lanterns clinging to the walls cast a little light on the surroundings, but the near constant haze of pipe smoke effectively reduced this to just a faint red glow. The uneven floor was comprised of little more than trampled dirt and sawdust, with the occasional comatose sailor for the unwary to stumble over.

Overall, it wasn't quite the sort of place Admiral Beckett Oliver expected to be sitting, nursing a tankard of very questionable ale, on such a sunny Saturday afternoon. Of course, there was no way he was there of his own accord. The Admiral was currently meant to be sipping tea from delicate china cups at one of Governor Vaughns' delightful tea parties, perhaps engaging in amiable small talk with the towns upper class citizens, in particular, with the Governors' eldest daughter, Alyssa.

He had of course given the Governor, along with his most sincere apologies, his reason.

Unfortunately, his reason was late. Again.

Beckett sighed and gazed at his beer, so lost in his thoughts that he failed to hear the tavern door creak slowly open, or the click, clicking heels of black leather sea boots, the silver buckles of which jangled faintly in time with the footsteps of their owner, who made their way purposefully towards the shadowy corner near the bar where the Admiral was sitting.

He was jerked from his thoughts by the sudden, tangible change in atmosphere. The quiet chatter that had filled the bar up until a moment ago suddenly ceased. Beckett looked up to see patrons shrinking back in their seats, clutching their tankards of ale, and trying to avoid catching the eye of the owner of the jangly boots.

Captain Jadelyn West was dressed predominantly in black. Knee high worn leather sea boots, adorned with little silver buckles. Long, shapely legs encased in tight black leggings. Slung around her hips was a bright scarlet sash, thrust carelessly into which were numerous, rather deadly looking weapons, most notably two shiny looking flint-lock pistols. Her top half was encased in a baggy sleeved white shirt, atop which she wore a smart, black waistcoat, and finally, draped across both shoulders, a calf length black greatcoat. To top off the (rather outrageous, in Becketts' opinion) ensemble, she wore a large, floppy hat, crammed carelessly on top of long black curls, completed by a very big green feather.

The faint jangling came to an abrupt stop as the captain halted in front of Becketts' table.

"Admiral."

"Captain."

Jadelyn glanced around the bar, glaring at the other patrons.

"Well? Carry on with your ale. Don't let me stop you enjoying yourselves." She sneered.

The rest of the taverns inhabitants hurriedly looked away from the Captain and the Admiral, and, after removing her hat, Jadelyn sat down opposite Beckett.

Beckett was the first to break the awkward silence.

"You're late."

"I know."

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"Are you going to tell me what your reason for bringing me here is?"

Beckett sighed, and took a sip of his ale. And immediately spat it back out again, his facial expression a mixture of horror and disgust, which Jadelyn thought was rather amusing on the dripping face of an esteemed admiral.

"By gad! What is this? Pigs urine!?"

Jadelyn smirked. "At this tavern? I wouldn't put it past them."

Beckett paused in the frantic wiping of his dress shirt, and glared at her unamused. This woman really got on his nerves sometimes.

"What? You were the one who suggested this tavern."

Beckett sighed again. "It came highly recommended. But we have other matters we need to discuss, captain. I have things to get on with today, and I would rather be doing them than sitting here talking to you."

Jadelyns' lips thinned almost imperceptably.

"So get on with it then."

Beckett leaned forward slightly in his seat.

"Ryder Daniels."

Jadelyn flinched at the name of her former first mate. Her eyebrows knitted together as she frowned at Beckett.

"That cowardly dog jumped ship when his attempts at mutiny failed miserably. Maybe he made it to port, maybe he was shark bait. I haven't heard from him in two years, and I hope never to in the rest of my life."

She leaned back in her seat, eyeing Beckett warily.

"What do you know? Should I be on my guard?"

Beckett looked at his hands, resting on the table, then back up at Jadelyn. "The man you knew as Ryder Daniels has been making a bit of a name for himself in these waters for a few months. He changed his name. Just last week, "Eye-patch" Daniels opened fire on two ships from my fleet as they headed back to port."

Becketts' expression turned to one of mild anger.

"The blackguard severely damaged my new ship, almost sank her. We turned our canons on him, and he immediately surrendered. We have him in custody now."

Jadelyns' frown deepened.

"Sounds too easy. You've got to watch that boy, admiral, he's got a head on his shoulders that one. Double his guard until you put him on trial."

She stood up abruptly.

"I have to go. Watch Daniels like a hawk, Beckett. I'm warning you now, the boy is as slippery as a greased eel."

Picking up her hat, Jadelyn waved her hand in a half-hearted goodbye.

"Until next time, admiral"

Beckett stood up.

"Jadelyn, wait."

She turned around.

"How long are you staying for?"

She shrugged.

"Few days, a week at best."

"Where can I find you if I need more information?"

Jadelyn grinned.

"Anywhere there's cheap booze and fine women, Beckett."

And with that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the door.