On the deck of a well worn ship, men and women hurried about, furling and unfurling sails as per the orders of a young man standing at the wheel.
"More wind!" he shouted. "We want to be able to board the ship before she gets away, not fire on her! I do believe you sea dogs are getting out of practice!" A young woman who stood behind him, her eye pressed up to a telescope, chuckled, her light brown hair blowing around her face.
"Jim, you do have a way with the crew," she said lightly, taking the telescope away from her eye and closing it forcefully. Her's was a face that didn't quite belong on the deck of such a fierce looking ship: bright and beautiful sea green eyes ringed with lashes that disappeared in the sun, soft curls of honey colored hair that fell in a glossy curtain down her back, delicate and rosy lips, and a definitively womanly look about her. No one would expect her to be the captain of the ship on whose deck she stood, partially due to the particularly extravagant way she dressed, which included a silk shirt the color of fine white snow, a waistcoat made of fine gray wool that hugged her slight curves, breeches made of an unknown blue fabric that caught the light, a dark blue military greatcoat that fell to her knees, and a pair of black leather boots that rose well up to her thighs. She seemed more a daughter of traveling nobility, when she was, in fact, one of the most ruthless pirates in the Caribbean seas.
"Captain, you pay too much homage to my inadequate command skills," the man called Jim replied. His name was, in fact, James, but it might as well have been Jim, for no one ever called him James. No one. If they did, they were subject to any form of hurt that crossed his mind, for Jim hated the name James with such a passion that if he ever met someone else who bore his name, he was likely to do them harm as well. Jim ran a tanned and weathered hand through his shoulder length black hair, resting the other one on the sand colored wood of the ship's wheel as he did so. Another ship had come into view, and the woman raised the telescope again.
"Now what on earth…?" Her questioning voice trailed off into silence, her mouth tightening into a straight line. "We've got some company, and it appears that they are after the Salvation as well," she said to Jim, telescope still trained on the approaching ship.
Suddenly, her face broke into a smile. "Well, I'll be damned," she whispered, and then spoke aloud. "It's Jess Firebringer and her crew of amateurs. They're going for the obvious attack." She raised her voice to a shout, immediately commandeering the attention of her crew. "Change of plans. Raise the EIC flag. We're going to rush to the aid of our partner ship and her helpless captain against a pirate ship known as Dark Swan, got it?" There were many cries of assent, and her crew hurried off to prepare the ship. "I trust you can handle the wheel while I prepare the guns and make myself look a little more…travel worn?" she asked Jim, who nodded. With a smile, she leaped down from the poop deck, making hardly any sound as her feet made contact with the wood beams of the quarterdeck.
With quick, purposeful strides, she crossed the deck to the hatchway that led down to the gunpowder store. Several crewmen were already there, grabbing a few barrels to take up to the guns on both the guns on the gun deck and the guns on the main deck and quarterdeck. She left them to it, instead heading in the opposite direction, to her quarters, where she switched out her coat for a girl's one that had definitely seen better days, her boots for more 'appropriate' women's shoes, and realigning her bandolier to hide its cargo of pistols under the folds of her coat, doing the same with the belt on which hung her sword and several knives. Hurriedly, she pinned her hair into a normal updo that would be seen on any regular girl of the time, and returned to the deck, slightly off balance due to the heels of her shoes. Shouts came from all around, the noises of her crew preparing for a quick and easy battle, which would likely culminate in the successful procurement of a large amount of treasure.
That is, however, if Jack Sparrow hadn't been involved. On the deck of Dark Swan, Jess Firebringer stood, arguing with the pirate.
"I let you hide on the last fight, Jack!" she shouted, her face red and her normally neat dark brown curls flying across her face as she gestured angrily at him. "You are not slinking off on this one!"
"Look, love, I just know better than to get involved when there's more than one ship. See, the way I see it is this." He put an arm around Jess's shoulders and drew her to the edge of the deck. "We go in to attack that ship, the Savior or whatever it is, and that other little ship over there, which is obviously the one with the firepower, slips up behind us and blows us right out of the water, savvy?" Jess rolled her eyes, pulling herself free of his grip.
"I think you're making a mistake," she called to him as she hurried up the steps to the poop deck. "That 'little ship' is the Chimera. I believe you know its captain, a certain Isolde O'Malley?"
"That settles it," he said, turning on his heel toward the hatch that led down to the hold. "I am definitely not staying up here. In fact, I am going to go and procure some rum, savvy?"
"Jack Sparrow-" He wheeled around to face the furious girl, looking stern.
"There should be a captain in there," he said, as if he had given the subject a great amount of thought, which of course he hadn't.
"Jack Sparrow," Jess continued through clenched teeth. "For the moment, you are on my ship, and you will do as I command, because I am the bloody captain!" The last word was a furious shout, and even Jack Sparrow knew better than to disobey Jess Firebringer when she was that angry. And so, with a sigh, Jack readied himself for two entirely different battles.
Back on the deck of the Chimera, Isolde watched as the battle began to unfold, starting with the Dark Swan firing on the Salvation, which turned tail and began to flee, moving slowly but surely towards Isolde's ship, looking for safety. When it pulled right up alongside her, she allowed them to board her ship.
"We'd best move quickly. Let the pirates have the silk, while we escape with our lives," said a fat, balding man whose wig had gone askew. His voice was reedy and nasal, matching his upturned nose and rattish features. With a slight sigh, Isolde gave the signal, and his men were surrounded by the members of her crew, all of whom suddenly looked ten times as menacing, while she pressed a knife to the captain's throat.
"I think we'll be taking that silk now," she said in a smooth and deadly voice. "After all, I do so need a new waistcoat. Mine is getting a bit…drab." The captain spluttered a few incoherent words, then "God will have your soul for this!" Isolde laughed.
"If your precious God exists, then why did my family die?" came her question, still carrying a hint of empty mirth on the syllables. "Hurry now, if your men bring me the silk fast enough, then we'll see about letting you keep your lives." As she finished speaking, the man squeaked out an order and his crew moved to comply. In that same moment, Jess's ship pulled up alongside her.
"I want fifty percent," she shouted, sounding angry.
"And you'll get it," Isolde replied calmly, "just as soon as-" It was at this inopportune moment that Jack decided to allow the wind to sweep his hat off of his head and onto the deck of Isolde's ship. The moment it touched the deck, she cast a furious look up at him. "Just as soon as you toss that miserable piece of cur into the ocean," she said to Jess, trying and failing to conceal the seething hatred in her voice.
"Isolde, look, just because Jack-" Jess attempted to calm her down, but the next minute, Isolde had pulled a pistol out of her bandolier and aimed it at Jack.
"Give me one good reason not to kill you Jack," she said, cocking it with a click that seemed to reverberate in the silence. He said nothing.
"Isolde!" Jess screamed at her. "Do not do this now!"
"I've been waiting three years for a chance to shoot the famous Jack Sparrow," Isolde said, her voice harder than steel.
"There should be a captain in there," Jack called out to her. "Look, luv, I know you're mad, but Cuba was three years ago. I would have thought you moved on. I have, after all."
"It was Panama, Sparrow. And moving on isn't what I do best. Shooting, however, is entirely different." And with those words she pulled the trigger.