Disclaimer: This work is based on the Pirates of the Caribbean video game by Bethesda Softworks. The game itself has little to do with the film, Pirates of the Caribbean, except for sharing its name. However, the feel of the game is similar to the film. The names of characters and locations in this fiction that are from the game are property of Disney and Bethesda Softworks. Any resemblance of made-up characters to real-life persons or situations is coincidental.

Chapter One

Crimson Dawn

Oxbay was quiet. The island was bathed in cool moonlight, and swathed by warm Caribbean breezes. The English colony, named for the island, was mostly asleep, but pairs of redcoat guards patrolled the perimeter of the town. Because the colony was usually peaceful, the redcoats were barely paying attention. Instead, they traded stories or jokes as they walked. It was under these ideal circumstances that Colin Black snuck to one of the large, standalone houses just inside Oxbay's gates.

The house itself was unremarkable, but for its contents. A window was ajar—like so many windows in the Caribbean colonies, it had probably been left open for ventilation. This particular window opened from the dining room of the house, and it opened into the garden. A panel of sheer curtains fluttered in and out of the house with the breeze.

Colin gave one last glance around the garden before pushing the curtains out of the way and climbing into the house. His boots thudded quietly on the wood flooring, and he straightened, glancing around. So far, so good, Colin thought, as he made his way towards one of the closets whose doors were built into the paneling of the dining room. On the way, he pulled a candle from its candlestick on the table, lit it, and stuck it between his teeth so he could see in the darkness.

The first cabinet contained fine china. The second, finely-wrought silverware. The third, crystal from the finest houses in England. The last cupboard contained an unassuming canvas bag. Colin crouched by the bag, untied its opening, and peered inside. "There we are," he muttered, stroking his goatee-covered chin thoughtfully. Well, he mused. That's that. Best to keep moving. He picked up the sack, slung it over his shoulder, and turned to move back into the dining room. As he did, he tripped over the dining room carpet and sprawled out on the carpet.

The resounding crash shook the dining room table. Colin groaned. "Nice work," he muttered. It was a good thing that Commander James Hartley, the man who owned the house, was out at the fort for night watch. Colin moved back towards the window, but before he got there, the door on the other end of the dining room swung open, and Colin heard the distinctive click of the hammer on a fun.

"Stop right there," said a voice, and Colin was surprised to realize it was a female's voice. He turned and held his candle up, so he could see towards the door better. The slender form of a young woman in a nightgown became silhouetted in the doorway. Sure enough, there was a pistol in her hand, pointing towards him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Me? Oh, nothing. Just retrieving something for a friend. You should go back to sleep, wouldn't want to interrupt your beauty sleep," Colin said with a charming smile.

"Drop the bag and maybe I won't shoot you."

"Shoot me? Please. You look like you'd feel better holding a pair of knitting needles than a gun. Have you ever shot one of those?"

"No, but I know how," the girl replied. "Stop!" she cried, for he had begun backing towards the window from whence he came.

"You're not going to shoot me," Colin said, smiling again. She advanced as he retreated. He pursed his lips and, after raising his hands, as if to surrender, slung the bag out the window and dived after it.

"Hey!" the girl cried and, as Colin threw the bag's strap over his shoulder, he could see her scrambling out the window after him. She tripped over her long nightgown, and the gun bounced under a rose bush.

Colin hurried to the low garden wall, vaulted over it, and took off towards the port. He rolled his eyes when he heard the young woman hollering after him to "Stop! Stop this instant!"

As he came to the gate, he was stopped by two redcoats. He said, "Sorry, no time to chat, name's Jack Norton, my ship's docked right outside and, oh, by the way, I think the French are about to attack Oxbay."

The redcoats blinked at each other, and Colin pushed the gate open. The story, although it was a good ruse, was actually true. The reason Colin had come to Oxbay in the first place was because the French were planning to invade, and Colin's employer did not want the bag falling into the hands of the French.

"Wot—are you serious?" one of the guards asked. Before Colin could answer, a screaming young woman came hurtling around the corner.

"Stop him!" the woman screamed, pointing to Colin's disappearing back. The young woman ran past the guards, and the redcoats followed them into the port. The three colonists drew up short when they saw a squadron of French ships sailing into the port.

"Ring the alarm!" one of the redcoats shouted, and the other ran towards the massive bell near the gate. Colin quickly threw the sack into the boat, untied the mooring line, and hopped into the boat. As he began to push off, he saw the young woman running down the dock.

Behind her, a whole squad of redcoats was running up the dock after her. "Stop!" she shouted.

"Give it up, miss. Give it up! I'm away."

"Not yet," she shouted and came to a stop at the end of the dock. Colin began to row. "Stop!"

She bent, reaching for the boat's stern. She almost had it when the squad of British soldiers caught up with her. One of them bumped her, and she fell into the boat. Colin continued to row, glaring at her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I want my bag. Now, take me back to shore."

"First," Colin said sternly, continuing to row quickly. He was rowing towards an outcropping of rock, behind which he knew was his ship, Crimson Dawn. The Dawn was a corvette that Colin had been left by his uncle, a privateer in service to the King of England, over a year ago. "First, it's not your bag. It's not even your brother's bag. It was stolen from someone else. Second, I will not take you back to shore. Swim."

The young woman glanced over the side of the boat. Colin did, too. The water was black. Even the sandy bottom could not be seen. "I—I can't swim. Please, take me back to shore."

"No."

"Take me back!"

"Miss—whatever your name is—I'm not going to take you back. The colony of Oxbay is about to be sacked by the French. If I take you back, God only knows what will happen to you. French soldiers could kill you. French soldiers could do worse. Now: I'll take you to wherever I'm going next and you can barter your way back to Oxbay, if you still want to return," Colin said. He opened his mouth to say more, but quickly closed it when an explosion sounded in the port.

The French ships had opened fire. A column of smoke and fire erupted from one of the stalls that was set up against the wall surrounding the town. "Blast," Colin said.

"What is it?"

"Well, the French ships are lining up, end to end, not only so their long nines can have maximum affect, but to block all the ships that are in the port, in the port." Colin continued rowing, faster now, and two minutes later the boat was bumping against the hull of the Crimson Dawn. "Oi! Demaro! Pull up the anchor! Let down the sails!"

"Aye sir!" was the reply.

"Miss, after you." He gestured to a ladder built into the hull of the ship.

"It's Verity Carlisle," she said quietly, but she moved unsteadily towards the ladder nonetheless. A few moments later, a dark-skinned man was helping Verity onto the deck. Colin followed, stuffing the bag into a crewman's hand.

"My quarters," Colin said quietly, and then quirked an eyebrow significantly. The crewman nodded and went to a door set into a wall on the stern. Stairs led from both sides to the quarterdeck, where the steering wheel was mounted.

"Orders, Captain?" asked the dark-skinned man.

"Demaro, get us out of the line of fire of the French ships. Run up our neutral flag. Load the guns, but don't fire unless they fire first." Colin hurried up the stairs and pulled his spyglass out. The ship began to move out towards the open ocean, sailing to the right to push past the French squadron. As they passed, Colin could see, through his spyglass, that the French didn't even have their guns run out, except on the sides of the ships that were currently assaulting Oxbay. "Beautiful."

Verity quietly picked her way across the deck to the stairs. She joined Colin on the quarterdeck. "What's going on, Captain?"

"We're on our way," Colin said. "And call me Colin."

"Where are we going?" Verity asked.

"Away from Oxbay. Beyond that—I want to go to Falaise de Fleur. That's where my business suggests, at least," he added.

"Can we get to Falaise de Fleur via Redmond Island?"

"Redmond?" Colin turned to look at her curiously. "Why?"

"Oxbay falls under the jurisdiction of the English governor at Redmond Island."

"I know."

"Well," Verity said, as if explaining something to a child. "If we were to report this seizure of Oxbay to the governor, certainly he'd be inclined to reward you."

Colin looked at her, although Verity could hardly see the man in the darkness, and could make out only the reflection of the moonlight from his eyes. "All right. Fine. Redmond Island." He sighed quietly and then said, "Come with me, Miss Carlisle."

Verity followed him back down to the primary deck. Colin pushed the door that the crewman had entered open and gestured Verity inside. There was a study of sorts inside the room, with a table surrounded by four chairs in the center. Another door was on the left, which Colin opened.

"My bedroom. I'll have it prepared for you to sleep in tonight. We should be to Redmond by tomorrow evening, but if we are delayed, you are welcome to stay here." Colin disappeared into the room and returned, carrying a handful of clothes and linens. He got a fresh set of linens from a chest, went into the bedroom again, and then returned. "All right. There's food in that chest…" he pointed to another chest. "…so help yourself."

"Well…thank you," Verity said quietly. "If you don't mind, I think I'd like to turn in, now."

"All right. Feel free. My men will be under orders to leave you undisturbed."

"Thank you," Verity repeated quietly and smiled tightly. She moved over to the door and pulled it open, and walked into the bedroom. Colin watched her, then moved to a cabinet built into the wall of the room, where he stashed the sack he had taken.

"All right, mate," said Colin as he walked back onto the deck. "Do we have our heading?"

"Aye, cap'n," said the first mate. "If the wind holds, we should be to Redmond by this time tomorrow."

"Good. It's bad luck to have a woman on board. Especially one who seemed intent on shooting me less than an hour ago."

"What's that, captain?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Back to work. And leave my quarters alone. Anyone caught in my quarters without invitation goes to Davy Jones' locker!" The last part of this order was shouted loudly, to the entire crew, and was greeted with a rousing chorus of groans.

"After all," Demaro muttered to the captain, after reluctantly acquiescing to his order. "She is a pretty girl."

"Get your mind on the sails," Colin said, leaning against the rail. He frowned thoughtfully, rolling his eyes downward towards the quarters, then he looked back towards the bow of the ship.