Assassin's Creed III x Pirates of the Caribbean
Seeing as Pirates of the Caribbean is a nightmare to place in time (there are things that set that story anywhere between the 17th and 18th century. Just look at the Anachronism Stew part of its TvTropes page), the King George II comment places in one movie puts it at least somewhere in the late 1700's. And well, Jack's bound to have run across all sorts in his time.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. In fact, it was too good of an idea to have come from Jack Sparrow as Mr. Gibbs had repeated many a time. It was too reasonable. Too simple. Too normal and sane of an idea to have turned out any other way.
A small merchant vessel, laden with cargo from the New World bound for the Caribbean. Valuable cargo worth a very, very pretty penny from what those in the know had all said. What with the Revolution and all, any trade coming out of America towards the South was likely without military escort, the Robin was easy pickings for pirate and privateer alike. Crewed by what were probably fishermen and not soldiers with maybe one cannon to the poor thing, it would be a simple job. One likely to have minimal blood shed too, since though while Captain Jack Sparrow was the very image of a stumbling, drunken buffoon, he was a pirate and should he choose to be, he could be terrifying to the common man - or at least he hoped.
It would be easy enough to scare the merchant crew into relinquishing their cargo and then sail off into the horizon, the Pearl laden with treasure to be sold to the highest bidder. And then he and his crew could get stunningly drunk.
It was an excellent plan. Brilliant in fact. And as per usual, none of Jack's plans - if he even had one as he swaggered or stumbled into something - ever went exactly as planned.
Had Jack listened a little more closely, or thought or been sober enough to ask more questions, such as where, exactly, the Robin was coming from or paid slightly more attention to the goings on in the more northern portions of the sea, he might have reconsidered the whole plan.
Yes, that would have been a very sound idea, Jack decided as his crew hit the deck to avoid the grapeshot being blasted at them and the splinters of his beloved Black Pearl that were sent up into the air. Called off the whole thing and stuck to chasing fairy tales. Rumor had it that a Piece of the Garden of Eden was hidden somewhere about the coast. Perhaps they could have set out looking for that. Or maybe even Captain Kidd's lost treasure. Something that didn't have the bloody Aquila, the apparently resurrected Ghost of the North Seas shooting at them.
No one quite knew exactly where the Aquila came from, or to which nation she owed its allegiance. She came and went like a ghost, sinking ships left right and center. Sometimes her prey was Spanish, sometimes it was Italian, Portugese, French or British. She went after military and merchant ship alike and no one could ever determine just exactly what her victims had in common.
They had been hounding the Robin for days when the infamous, presumed long gone eagle-figurehead came out of nowhere, cannons blazing and a terrifyingly capable captain at her wheel.
Jack immediately thought the captain odd, given that he hadn't sunk them right then and there. He'd had a perfect shot, the element of surprise, a plethora of cannons and a legend to live up to. Not that Captain Jack Sparrow was disappointed that the Aquila hadn't filled his Pearl with holes and sent them all down to Davey' Jones' locker - or would it be William Turner's Locker now? - regardless the behaviour was odd. Perhaps he was merely trying to scare them off?
"What do we do now, Cap'n?"
Well Jack was called a coward more often than not, and honestly it didn't really bother him all that much. The sensible thing to do, would be to take the Aquila's rather direct offer and leave. Return to Tortuga and inform the Caribbean that the Ghost of the North Sea was back.
"Your orders Cap'n?"
But the bastard had gone and damaged his Pearl and that was one of the few things that could really get Jack riled up.
"We're boarding them."
It didn't sound like a good idea to begin with, and it turned out in fact to be an absolutely terrible, horrifyingly bad idea. But his crew, bless their scurvy, black-little pirate hearts had gone along with it anyway. They were used to Jack's mad schemes usually working out. Somehow.
The sheer incredulous looks of horror on the Aquila's crew's faces are almost worth the scratches and small holes in the Black Pearl's hull as they make the jump across, Gibbs at the helm keeping the Pearl on course. Jack's manic cheer curtailed only slightly when some crew of the Aquila look a little familiar. He recognizes some from years ago on Tortuga, pirates many of them. Jack's crew is equally surprised as well, but there is little time to be surprised when there are sword fights involved.
Jack and his boys had been faring quite well against the Ghost of the North Seas' crew - having fought real ghosts, those of flesh and blood were not as great of a challenge. But what small advantage the element of surprise and incredulity had offered them is promptly snuffed out as the Captain of this terror comes out to play.
The first thing that Jack notices is how young the Captain is. Honestly, the boy could be younger than Turner. Dark-haired and dark-skinned, maybe of Spanish or Italian origin, a tricorn hat hiding most of his face from view. The second thing Jack notices is the Captain's eyes. There is something odd about them, they are dark in colour, but there is an almost golden shine to them as Jack manages to catch a glimpse before promptly raising his blade to block a heavy blow from the man's - fist? No. A blade slides out of the man's sleeve in one fluid movement and folds out to find itself in the dark-skinned man's fist.
The Aquila's crew has mostly stopped fighting, those not occupied with Jack's crew, stepping back, small grins on their faces, like they were waiting for something.
The moment the hidden blades came out Jack knew he was not going to be dealing with some British Regular who all fought in predictable forms and were not used to 'dishonourable' and 'dirty' fighting, or 'practical' fighting as Jack preferred to call it.
While Jack could not profess to be a master swordsman, he was proud of his quick reflexes and ability to at least hold his own.
He had absolutely nothing on this boy, who for a man as powerfully built as he was, could move like the wind.
The Captain was a savage beast in the guise of the man. He fought dirtier and more brutally than any pirate - and as his attention was thrown at Jack, while mildly offended at being fought with what basically amounted to a pair of fists, he was truly very happy that the man had not drawn his sword or unhooked the oddly shaped tomahawk at his waist to attack him, rather relying solely on the blades in his sleeves to give him a sound drubbing.
This was by far the hardest duel of Jack's life - and having faced an Undead Barbossa, a Kraken and Davey Jones himself that was saying something.
His reaction time was - had Jack not seen a crew damned by Aztec gold, Davey Jones' Locker and what might have been the after life, he might have called it supernatural.
Any of Jack's crew that tried to attack him while his focus was seemingly elsewhere found themselves blocked almost casually, without looking back at them at all, promptly thrown to the ground - and then had the wind knocked out of them with a brutally planted boot to the stomach.
Jack has the supreme unluckiness to find himself disarmed rather suddenly and the Captain of the Aquila pressing him up against the mast of the ship, knife pressed gently against his throat.
"It was not wise to attack us." the boy says in calm, slow, slightly accented English that is decidedly not of a Spanish or Italian flavour. "Any last words?"
Still smiling Jack thrusts forward his right hand spontaneously, immensely glad that the boy who is staring at him intensely does not react poorly, merely puts a little distance between the two of them, knife still pointed at his throat.
There is no doubt that this boy is faster, stronger and all in all a better fighter than him - but there is this air of naivety that surrounds him. The same air that Will Turner drapes about himself like a cloak.
"Captain Jack Sparrow." he introduces himself and preens a little at the gasps and awed stares that some of the Aquila's crew give him.
"Put the blade down Captain," a vaguely familiar voice states. "Jack Sparrow is no enemy of ours."
"That's Captain Jack Sparrow," he insists.
"You will take your crew back to your own ship and depart." The boy ignores him, his tone brooking no argument.
As Jack has never been one for not arguing or rather doing the 'smart' thing and shutting up, he questions.
"And if I don't?" Jack asks, his winning smile and swagger still on display despite the knife still pointed at his neck.
"Mister Faulkner tells me that you are no real enemy of mine, Mister Sparrow," the boy says, and that explains the familiar voice.
"Captain, Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack smiles. The boy ignores him, though Robert Faulkner, that scallywag is near doubling over in laughter.
It's been years since he's seen that old scoundrel. And he is pleasantly surprised to hear that the man who could pass for Mr. Gibbs body double is alive and well.
What he's not so pleasantly surprised with however is the boy's ignorance of his name. You would think that a pirate and scoundrel of illustrious reputation such as himself would be heard of, even in the northern reaches of the great blue. That if Robert Faulkner was with the lad, he would have at least mentioned the best pirate in the Caribbean. Then again, the old bastard should have recognized the Pearl!
"However should you insist on attacking these trade routes, I will cut you down."
The Aquila has always been a puzzle, but this boy captain is a bigger one. They are well armed and their ship in fine condition but there is not a uniform in sight. His crew is composed of scoundrels and honest men, they fly no flag, but they are no regular military crew, nor are they pirates or privateers.
"I made you an offer," the boy says impatiently, his eyes flashing dangerously.
The boy's gaze is intense and piercing, and reminds Jack unnervingly of being stared down by a wolf - or a feral dog, he hasn't seen a live wolf in quite some time. There are no illusions about there being second chances with this boy - naive as he seems to be.
"Aye. And one I can agree to. What's your name?" And there is the sound of metal scraping against leather as the blade disappears into the boy's sleeves and he steps back. The boy looks at him a slightly bewildered expression on his face.
"Connor."
The Pearl's crew waits for further elaboration but that is all the boy says.
"If you're looking for a last name Sparrow, I suppose it would be Kenway," The boy twitches at the name, as Faulkner shrugs. "Or Davenport. It doesn't really matter."
The name Kenway sounds a little familiar, but he has little time to ponder it when the hidden blades come back out to threaten Jack's throat and there is a snarling wolf back in his face.
"Get off my ship," Captain Connor Kenway - or Davenport, whoever he is, tells them pointedly, and the slight shift in his stance tells Jack that they had best make it snappy.
"Back to the Pearl!" he tells his men and makes to follow them, but not before fixing Faulkner with a glare. To which the man merely shrugs.
"Thought it was Barbossa," the man says in explanation. "Or worse."
Well obviously he wasn't going to get more of an explanation on that, but every man had his secrets.
Back on the Pearl he found Mr. Gibbs who was waiting for him at the helm.
"What happened, Cap'n?" he asked, a pointed look at the badly bruised and beaten members of their crew as they limped to their stations.
"A wolf, Mr. Gibbs," Jack grins. "Robert Faulkner is first-mate to one Captain Kenway."
"Haytham Kenway?" Gibbs splutters in horrified shock.
Ah. So that's where he'd heard the name before. Both pirates turned to stare at the Aquila as it turned away, and the blue-clad man standing at its helm, Faulkner pointing something out on the horizon.
Thinking back on it, the lad did look a little like that terrifying amiable British man from lord knew however many years ago, flattened them all just as easily - but the boy was too young, and his complexion too dark.
There is a long silence at the helm of the Black Pearl before Mr. Gibbs speaks.
"Tortuga?"
"Aye. Tortuga."
I'm planning a series of one shots. Hence the plural of the title.
Next up: Jack recalls meeting one Haytham Kenway. Or as I like to call him, James Bond of the 1700s.