*Wait! This is the fourth story in a series. If you don't read the other's this may not make sense. Go read 'Welcome to Tortuga' and the others before you start this one. That way you can enjoy the whole adventure.*

Pirates:

Escape from Singapore

(A Pirates of the Caribbean Short Story)

By: Lady Sparrow

The city had been built up from nothing. Ramshackle houses and buildings stood on long, spindly stilts above the wealth of murky water or firmly on what little ground they could find along the rocky shore line. A twisting maze of bridges and walkways linked one cluttered gathering to the next. The city lined the entirety of the vast bay. Although it looked precariously constructed and tossed together, the city had managed to weather everything the world could throw at it. And it's people were just the same. For those who knew what they were looking for, Singapore could be the grandest of treasure troves. A diamond lost admits a mound of coal.

The bathhouse, from what Emera Flint could tell, was a fortified building set behind an imposing wall. She studied it's distant shape as she leaned against the wooden rail of a narrow foot-bridge. The Pirate den was inland a ways, taking refuge atop the low, rocky, cliffs which overlooked a small section of the bay. It wasn't so high as to lord over the city, though, just enough to make a ground assault difficult. It was the perfect place for the Pirate Lord of the South China Sea to reside.

Emera leaned a little further over the edge of the bridge, looking out at the sprawling shanty-city. From where she stood the stench of stagnant water, and no doubt a great many other things she didn't much care to nor allow herself to think about, was overwhelming. From the scent it was clear that all the city's sewage was being pumped into the bay. She felt sorry for the fishermen wading waist-deep through the water to bring in their nets a few paces from where she stood. The Pirate buried her nose and mouth into the crook of her arm, using the heavy fabric of her black frockcoat to block out the foul air. She wasn't used to the smell yet. And she didn't think she ever would be. The thought was a bit surprising seeing as the odour was startlingly similar to the stench of a bilge. Above smoggy cloud cover cast the city in a range of dingy greys. This was also something she believed she would never become acclimatised to. She already missed the gleaming blue waters of the Caribbean. And while she knew that it was only just early morning, it looked as though it were late evening.

Her attention was pulled from the bay by a clattering sound above her. She turned, face still in her sleeve and watched as the source of the sound clambered across the roof of the boarding house behind her. Captain Jack Sparrow, her traveling companion and friend, was flailing his arms wildly as he scampered across the thatch to a top floor balcony. He leapt to the landing, braced his hands on the rail, tossed himself over and allowed himself to drop to the ledge of a window. Then, smoothly as a cat, he edged to the scaffolding-like stairs that hugged the side of the building. He flew down the steps with a look of mild panic on his face.

"I take it paying for our room went well, then?" Emera asked with a smirk as he raced towards her.

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but an incredibly livid set of shouts from a third floor window caused him to pause. Two men, who Emera recognised as being the owner and the door man, screamed at them from the distant portal. She didn't understand what they were saying, but she knew it couldn't be good. Jack made a wide-eyed face before turning on his heel. Together they began to sprint down the length of the bridge.

"We had a disagreement in price." He explained as they flew down the rickety crossing.

"Do ya ever agree with anyone?" Emera laughed as Jack leapt the two foot gap and one foot drop between their bridge and the street it emptied onto.

He turned back to her and reached out with both arms, "I agree with you, Love."

"I'm flattered." She beamed, jumping into his arms.

"I thought you knew that." He cracked a roguish grin as he spun and set her down, "Or do I have to be even more abundantly clear?"

"Seems t' me," Emera pointed out, "for all our so-called 'agreeing', we spend a great deal of time arguing."

"When was the last time we fought, eh?" Jack raised his arms in question.

She yanked at his sleeve, indicating that they should run, "Umm, five minutes ago? Or don't you remember? We bickered over who'd pay for the room, you had a fit and ya shooed me outside. Look how it's turned out."

She nodded to their pursuers, who had made it out of the boarding house and onto the bridge. Jack made a face again, grimacing slightly. He took hold of Emera's hand, lasing his fingers with hers, and ran. The two followed the cobblestone for maybe a block before ducking down a side street.

"That was merely a," Jack thought for a moment, "mild squabble."

"I'd have thought you'd call it a lo-" She started, a mischievous grin stretched across her face, but he cut her off.

"Tomatoes, tomatoes." He shrugged, his voice slightly raised "Are we really going to spend the morning going on about what to call it? Or are we going to ensure our escape goes smoothly?"

"Probably; t' the first. Definitely; t' the second, but only so long as you tell me where it is we're going." Emera struggled to keep up with his bizarre running.

"Mmm," The sound was somewhat panicked but the declaration that followed was steadfast, "This way."

He pulled her down another turn and then into a tight gap between two buildings. They stood, chest to chest, in complete silence as they listened to the hurried foot falls closing in on them. The space was set in heavy shadow and evidently concealed them well. The two men from the boarding house flew past without a second glance in their direction. When she was sure they were gone, Emera looked up at Jack.

He stood only a few inches taller than she did. His dishevelled attire was all too familiar to her. His tangled dark hair (which had gained the addition of a reindeer's shin bone), his raggedy clothes and keen, calculating, eyes. It had been two years since she'd seen him last. So much had changed in her world since then, but he seemed relatively the same as he'd always been. His hair, perhaps, was a little longer now. But then again so was hers. She made a mental note to trim it as she tried to blow her banks out of her eyes.

"I don't recon their coming back this way." Jack said, keeping his voice down. "Would it be safe for me t' assume that this little situation is similar t' the one that landed us in our previous wall-knook?" Emera asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He frowned a little, "Sort of. Though, if memory serves, my disagreement with those rather unsavory gentlemen concerned the price of a fishing boat."

"How is it we always end up in tight places together?" She commented, taking stock of just how snug the gap was.

Jack flashed her a grin before saying, "Just lucky, I suppose. Though I must say, you're attitude this time has definitely improved. Would it be safe for me to assume that this will end without me being punched?"

"Count on it." She returned his expression, "Though, if my memory serves, I bit you too."

He regarded her with an amused little smirk, "Now, there's an idea."

Emera leaned in close, her lips almost against his, "Isn't there some ever-so-important matter we're meant t' be seeing t'?"

"I suppose you're right." He sighed and leaned his head back a little, gesturing to the opening they came through, "Shall we?"

"If you insist, Captain Sparrow." She smirked, landed a quick kiss somewhere between the corner of his mouth and his jaw, and slid from the gap.

Jack made a strained sort of sound in the back of his throat, then followed. The two Pirates walked side by side down the cobblestone road, back the way they had come. Though only a fraction of the usual population was about at this hour the street felt suffocated and crowded. Emera guessed this was due to how closely packed and tall the buildings were. She was also being bombarded by a never ending stream of interesting things to look at. Shop fronts selling cooking supplies, fabric, foodstuffs and goods. Houses elaborately constructed from stone and wattle. Graffiti, scratched phrases she couldn't read and images painted in multi-coloured paint, covered the sides of the structures or decorated the low brick walls. After the third time Emera stopped to examine something, Jack thought it best to catch hold of her hand and drag her along beside him.

"There'll be time for gawking later, Love." He had picked up his pace, "Promise."

"I'm going t' hold ya t' that." She told him, "Where are we headed, anyway?"

Jack flicked open his compass, checking the tool quickly before adjusting his course accordingly, "To pay a visit to an old friend."

Emera didn't have to ask who it was. They were standing before an enormous wall. Set into the stone was a massive wooden circle with beams and cross patterns carved into its red-painted front. Built into the decretive centerpiece was a pair of doors that nearly blended into their surroundings. The Pirate knew at once where they were. People of all kinds congregated around the entryway. Beggars and merchants, rough looking men and beautiful, scantily clad, women. This was the gate to Sao Feng's bathhouse.

Jack rapped his knuckles against the door three times and shot Emera a quick 'watch this' kind of smirk. A slat in the door slid open and a pair of dark eyes looked out at them. Jack cleared his throat.

"Tell Sao Feng, Captain Jack Sparrow is-" He started but the slat was shut with finality and cut him off mid sentence.

Jack pulled a face that was half puzzlement, half irritation.

"I don't think they're going t' let us in." Emera crossed her arms.

"Nonsense." He declared, "Sao Feng and I go way back. Thick as thieves. And I'll see him one way or another."

This time Jack pounded the side of his fist against the door. Again the slat opened and the disembodied pair of eyes looked out at them. It seemed as though the opening was about to shut again when Jack called out the magic word.

"Parlay." His voice was confident and clear.

The person on the other side of the door stared at him for a moment more and shut the slat again. Emera was just about to offer up a mildly-sympathetic 'nice try' when the sound of a heavy lock being unfastened signaled from the other side of the door. The two Pirates glanced at one another, Jack smirking again and Emera looking genuinely impressed. The double doors swung open and they were quickly ushered inside.

Emera hardly got a look at the gardens they were rushed through before they reached the main entrance of the bathhouse. They were shoved through another set of double doors, then made to wait in a sort of receiving area. It was dimly lit by amber lanterns and the walls had been painted in even more shades of dingy grey. It was humid too, thick steam filling the air with the scent of various herbs. Emera believed she could smell basil, sage and mint among many others she didn't recognize or couldn't name. Before the two Pirates was a set of low stone steps which lead into the rest of the house. However, any view of that area was blocked off by bamboo dividing screens.

Standing at the top of the stairs was a man. His arms were crossed and he stared down at them with a look of disapproval. By the way he observed them, he seemed to be the one in position of authority. His dark hair was tied back from his face in a tight knot and his face was clean shaven. He wasn't dressed well enough to have been Sao Feng, though, so Emera suspected that he was the Pirate Lord's First Mate. He certainly looked like the kind of person one would want in that position. Emera could tell by his scars that he had seen more than his fair share of battle. And his dark eyes held the look of someone with a no-nonsense attitude. His face was grim as he took them in.

"You will remove your weapons." He made a sharp gesture, jabbing his thumb in the direction of a long table.

"Right." Jack nodded and complied.

Emera followed suit. The two Pirates set to disarming themselves, laying their swords and pistols out on the table. Between the two of them they didn't have much. One cutlass and one pistol each. Emera had a dagger in her belt which she set beside her sword and Jack had also been sporting a boarding axe (which he claimed he didn't remember picking up.) When they were finished the man looked over the table.

The First Mate pointed at Jack, "You will remove your coat."

"'Course." He shrugged and slipped out of his frockcoat, laying on the table next to their things.

One of the guards that had shown them into the receiving room roughly nudged Emera's side. She took his hint and pulled her jacket off as well. It landed on the table beside Jack's. The guard shoved her again. She frowned at him before looking up at the First Mate.

"Her waistcoat as well. And her shirt." He snapped.

"I beg yer pardon?" Emera was shocked.

"Eh?" Jack seemed equally bewildered.

"No loose clothing." The First Mate didn't even bother trying to hide the fact that he was only speaking to Jack, "Who knows what weapons she has concealed on her."

"That's ridiculous!" Emera protested, "Jack's clothing is practically identical t' mine!"

"Really, Mate." Jack added, "It seems a bit much."

"She will either remove her clothing or she will be removed from the building." He snapped again, finally glancing at her with a look she knew all too well.

It was the same look she had been given every day since the first moment she'd grown into a young woman. It was the same look she got from the crew of her Father's ship. It was the same look she got from men she passed on the street. It was a look that told her she was nothing more than an object to be used or discarded. He didn't gawk or stare at her with that oh-so obvious intent like some men did. No. This was a look that told her she wasn't worthy of receiving the same basic decency or respect that Jack was. Because she was a woman and he was a man. She was suspected of tertiary and deceit while he was assumed to be honorable. She was treated like she wasn't even a person because of which body parts she had. It was something that had been going on her entire life. And it was something she sought to fight against, tooth and nail, every chance she got. Rage boiled under the surface of her skin. She met the man's gaze firmly, defiantly. She would do what was asked of her for the sake of getting inside. But she didn't have to comply quietly or meekly like he expected her to.

Emera yanked off her waistcoat and slammed it into the table, "You think that because I'm a woman you can treat me as though I'm nothing. Have you never heard the names Anne Bonny? Mary Read? Mistress Ching? Jacquotte Delahaye? All are women and all are worth a hundred of you."

He sneered and let out a snort of derision.

Emera unbuttoned the front of her shirt, "Laugh now, but yer time is coming t' a swift close. One day women will break free from the bonds forged by men. And when we do the world will spin so fast men like you won't be able t' hold on."

She let her shirt slip from her shoulders. The sleeves bunched at her wrists, preventing the garment from falling to the floor. Clad in not but her underbodice and trousers now, Emera spun in a slow circle. It was clear to anyone with eyes that she was completely unarmed.

"I am a free human being with an independent will and a spirit that cannot be broken by the likes of you." Emera faced him again, "Now, I've done as you asked. Happy?"

He nodded once, slowly. She roughly pulled her shirt back on. The same guard that had nudged her before moved to stop Emera from dressing. She whirled on him, slapping his hand off her shoulder and barking a sharp 'don't touch me.' The guard reached for his sword, but the First Mate made a smooth gesture that indicated that the weapon should be left where it was.

"Put a mussel on your dog." He warned Jack, "Such impertinence will not be tolerated in front of Captain Feng."

Emera scowled, her fists clenched tight. She had killed the last man who had spoken about her the way this man was speaking now. Obviously she couldn't kill this First Mate. It would ruin whatever scheme Jack had up his sleeve and would probably get them both killed as a result. Besides, Philips had been a special case. She remembered the way she had plunged the dagger into the side of his neck, covering herself and half the Officer's cabin in a spray of hot blood. Of course, when it happened, he had been trying to strangle her. But that's a story for another time. Jack's hand came down lightly on Emera's shoulder. She shook the image of Philips from her mind and turned her attention back to her surroundings. The First Mate stepped passed the bamboo dividing screens, motioning for them to follow. Emera glanced at Jack. His dark eyes were full of deep sympathy for her. She nodded, silently telling him that she would be alright. Then she followed him up the short steps and into the next room.

The hall was large, spanning out in front of them for at least twenty paces. The sides of the space were occupied with large, round bathing tubs. They were made somewhat private by flanking bamboo dividing screens and were filled with an assortment of gnarled and wicked looking Pirates. Some were large, some were small, but all looked fearsome and surly. They were heavily tattooed, Emera noticed, barring a script she couldn't read. Some, here or there, were covered in vile sea life. Perhaps, the Pirate thought, from all their time spent in the murky tub water. It made the men look like the keel of a ship in want of careening. Women, too, were situated around the tubs. They silently waited on their guests, barring trays of refreshments or adding crushed herbs to the soupy water. Objects. Objects to fulfill the needs of the men around them. Emera felt sick to her stomach. It just wasn't fair.

At the far end of the hall was a slightly elevated alcove made of stone bricks. Lanterns hung from the ceiling and a shrine-like spread of candles cast the area in pale gold light. Heavy steam flowed through the wide gaps in the floor boards, scenting the small space in an overwhelming perfume. The three figures positioned there captured Emera's full attention. A pair of women, twins, stood to either side. They were beautiful, dressed in identical black robes, their raven hair worn back and away from their faces. These women were separate from the others somehow. They weren't servants, but there was still the feel of servitude around them. Emera wondered if they were concubines.

The third figure was a man. He stood in the center of the small space, deeply breathing in the steam that nearly engulfed him. He was clad in gorgeous robes so green they nearly looked black. The heavy leather belt, wrapped around nearly the entirety of his torso, was laden with finery and he wore a matching mantle about his shoulders. He was younger than Emera had expected, not yet middle aged. He was weatherworn and craggy, though, like any good Pirate would be. His head was clean shaven, but a long, dark, beard and mustache combo drew one's attention to his mouth. He gave off a sort of presence that exuded power. Clearly, he was in charge and wanted it to be known. This could be none other than Sao Feng.

The First Mate rushed to his side, whispering something into his ear. The Pirate Lord smiled and his gaze fell to where Emera and Jack stood before him. The First Mate bowed slightly before retreating to one side. Sao Feng took a single step forward, now towering over the two Pirates.

"Welcome," His voice was clear and strong, "to Singapore."