In the busy dock of Port Royal, three figures walked past the bustling crowd. It was broad daylight, nearly late afternoon. The fresh, salty air that blew all around them gently felt like peace to those who loved and have lived at sea. The three figures' eyes moved from left to right warily on their onlookers even as they walked tall and proud. They didn't attract particular attention, except for the tall, slender female in the middle. She was dark in looks with almond-shaped dark brown eyes and a very long mane of straight black hair that fell down to her midriff, but she gave off an almost exotic look that drew many stares from passerby men.

The corners of the woman's luscious, yet dry lips turned down in a frown as she glared at a particularly dirty fisherman ogling at her breasts, nearly bulging from the plain gown she wore. The fisherman saw her evil look and quickly turned away in fright.

"I can't believe you all forced me to wear this," she said through clenched teeth as she and her friends swept down the dock.

The young man on her right smiled at his friend's temper while his sky-blue eyes danced with inner mirth. "You know that it is the good of our crew and most especially you that you are not recognized, captain," he told her. Like his female companion, his clothes were plain: a white, long-sleeved shirt that buttoned up at the front, dark wool pants, wide leather belt that carried an assortment of things like a particularly bulging bag and even a sword, and heavy boots. He was rather dashing in the average female's eye with his warm smile that broke out from his tan, sea-worn face, his lean body, and his short true-blonde hair that fell into his eyes as blue as the sky. His name was Michael Turnbull, and everyone that knew him knew what an honest guy he was.

The woman flashed her childhood friend an annoyed look. "I told you I don't like you calling me captain," she remarked, still bad tempered at having to wear women's clothes. They, in her opinion, were hard to fight in, always getting in the way. She couldn't even carry her sword and was forced to leave it back in their ship; else it would lead to suspicion as to why a woman was carrying a weapon.

"But you are our captain, Em," Michael told her.

The woman named Em smirked at that. She was the infamous Emelia Kraven, captain of the rogue pirate ship The Raven and her crew. When she wasn't forced to wear a dress, she was the fearless and sarcastic "Em" who, with her crew and ship, plundered the East Indian Company ships and wreaked all other sorts of hell on the Company and the tyrant who ruled it, Cutler Beckett. The Raven was Em's pride and joy, and she had been its captain for ten long years, which made her 28 years old; ten years of harassing those upstart Englishmen with their tea.

Reminded of the Company, Em turned to the other young man beside her who still had not said anything. "Is everything ready?" she demanded. Anymore time in this death trap called a corset, and I will start shooting everything and everyone in sight! she thought.

Oswald Green, but "Ozz" by his friends, turned his lecherous green eyes away from the pretty lass he had been eyeing for a while and turned to his captain. "Aye cap'n," he replied in an Irish 

accent. Bearing his heritage, Ozz had green eyes and dark red hair. He was as tall as Em, but seemed closer to Michael's height which he was taller than the both of them. His skin was still pale, for he hadn't been at sea as long as his companions, but he was still a good crew member, despite his inexperience. Ozz was a womanizer who just couldn't ever bear the thought of living without them. His second love was the sea and the adventures it brought. "Wi 'ave ever'thin wi need. The Raven is all restocked and ever'one is all well rested. Some more than others," he added with a grin which showed his companions some of his uneven teeth.

Em tried not to laugh. "Your teeth are most repulsive," she told him. "It's always been a wonder of mine why the ladies even come near you." She herself had all her teeth and was proud of it. Try as she might not to laugh, Em found herself laughing along with her Michael at her remark.

They could all see their ship now in between two little fishing boats: The Raven. It was a real beauty. Made of sturdy wood which has blackened from time, The Raven was a gigantic god compared to the little plain fishing boats. "The Raven" was emblazoned upon all sides of the ship, but at the moment, long drapes covered their ship name. Their sails, once torn when they first docked at Port Royal, were plain white and tied right now at the top of the three individual masts. Em, Michael, and Ozz stopped before their ship and took in the raw power that hteir ship always seemed to provide from just looking at it.

"Ahoy Captain! Welcome back! Lovely dress you have on!" a voice yelled from the ship.

Ozz smirked as he surveyed the furious blush creeping from under his captain's tan face. "I may not 'ave the teeth to attract the lasses, but I would love te 'ave a lass that moons over me like yer bonny skipper does te yeh," he mocked. He didn't see her fist coming, and he was knocked out instantly before he even hit the ground.

Michael took a closer look at his unfortunate crew mate. "Yup, he's knocked out like a drunkard," he told his captain.

Drunkard. Em suddenly gasped, drawing the attention of both her childhood friend and her skipper. "What happened?" Em turned around and saw her skipper coming down from the ladder quickly. "What happened?" Timmothy McIlrath demanded once he was standing in front of her. Em inclined her head up to get a good look at her tall skipper. Tim, his nickname, was very handsome indeed with wild dirt-blonde hair and piercing green eyes that almost seemed to make Em's heart skip a beat whenever she looked into their intensity.

Em caught herself in time and shook her head, quickly composing herself. "We forgot our most important cargo," she replied and began to retreat back into the town next to the docks.

Tim and Michael shared a look. "Rum!" they exclaimed.

"Ill go with her," Tim said quickly before Michael could utter another word. He made to follow his captain but Michael yelled, "Tim, catch!" Tim turned around and caught the bulging bag that 

had been moments before hanging off of Michael's belt. Tim nodded and hurried up towards Em.

"Hn, thought you weren't gonna make it mate," Em muttered. She took a good look at who was next to her and her eyes widened in surprise, for she expected Michael to have followed her. Keeping her long, steady strides despite being in a dress, she demanded, "Where is Michael?"

Tim kept up easily with her, having the advantage of long legs. "He's attending to Ozz. I wanted to come and protect you."

Em cast him a glare. "I don't need protecting," she snarled, her temper rising.

Tim flinched, but otherwise seemed unthreatened by his captain's attitude. "But I wanted to. I don't want you hurt," he added with what seemed like a deeper meaning to his words.

Em ignored him but sighed inwardly. Tim has been enragingly infatuated with her ever since she had poured her bottle of rum over his head the first time they met, in this very harbor. When he had found her later, he demanded and harried her to be one of her crew members. She eventually gave in; from what reason, she never figured out herself, but a few mutterings she had caught from her own crew suggested from them that she secretly had a small soft spot for Tim. Em quickly dismissed that thought. Tim was rather dashing in his own annoying, overprotective way (not including looks), but her only love is for the sea.

They had arrived at a two-story bar called The Ferryman's Pray and they both entered. Passing more or less unnoticed by the customers there, Em ordered from the bartender three boxes full of rum while Tim cast a wary eye around for anyone that would possibly recognize Em. He suddenly turned to her and whispered urgently in her ear, "You better tell Bill to hurry it up on the double, Em. Some men from the bloody Company have come in." Em's eyes scurried towards the entrance of the bar. Standing at the doors were four men all dressed identically in red uniforms.

"Oh bugger," she replied darkly under her breath. She ran a hand through her long hair so that half of her face was obscured from the Company men. She quickly grabbed the bottles Bill had put in front of her and stashed them quickly into the bag Tim carried. "Quickly mate," Em whispered and she and Tim stole away towards the stairs without anyone's notice.

Bill came back to where he had put the bottles of rum and saw that it was all gone along with its buyers. He swiveled around and instantly spotted Em and Tim climbing the stairs. "Oy! Yeh scoundrels! You haven't paid me!" he roared and pointed a finger at them. Em and Tim froze in the center of the stairs like deer caught under a pair of headlights. Everyone in the bar, including the men from the Company, turned towards where Bill was pointing.

The Company men instantly recognized them. "It's Em and her skipper!" one of them yelled. "You both are under arrest for-!"

"Time to go!" Em yelled above the ensuing chaos that had erupted as she and Tim ran up the rest of the stairs in haste.

"Hey! We order you to stop this instant!"

Tim took the lead and led them into a vacant room, barring the door immediately. He turned to Em and saw that she had started stripping off her dress.

Em looked up and noticed Tim staring, particularly at her breasts which were fully in his line of vision. "Stop staring and take out my clothes from the bag!" she ordered. Tim started and immediately did as he was told. He reached into the bag and careful of their stolen goods, extracted Em's clothes and handed them to her without looking at her figure this time. Em grabbed her clothes and quickly put them on.

Heavy bangs on the door signaled that their time was up. "Open up and surrender to the crown of England!" a muffled voice yelled from behind it.

"Done," Em said. She turned to the window and began to open it. She swung a leg over the windowsill and stretched her hand for the bag. Tim lifted the bag and quickly ran over to her, passing her the bag. Em nodded at him and carefully tossed the bag over her shoulder, grinned at the loud tinkling sound from within the bag. She stepped out from the window and saw someone had left a carriage underneath the window. Em took a breath and jumped off, bracing herself for the impact. Em's knees buckled from under her as she landed on the roof of the carriage. She grabbed the bag and held it close to her body as she rolled off the roof and landed unceremoniously onto the ground below. "Ooh, that's definitely gonna leave a mark," she groaned. Em heard a thump from above and knew it was Tim. A second later he was hovering over her with worry across his features.

"Are you alright?" he demanded. His heart was thumping painfully hard with fear for her life. That fall had been particularly harsh for her from the looks of it when he had watched.
"I'm fine!" Em said, but that wasn't necessarily true. Her back was killing her, and she thought that she landed on something sharp.

Without her permission, Tim picked Em up bridal style and began to run back towards The Raven.

"Let go of me you bastard! I didn't tell you to pick me up!" Em cried and began to pound his broad chest with one fist while the other held onto the bag tightly.

"Emelia! What happened to you?!" Em looked up and saw that they had made it back to the ship. Michael was there at the steps with a worried look. "It's nothing, it's nothing!" she replied repeatedly and pushed herself out of Tims unwilling arms and back onto her feet.

"No you're not! You're bleeding!" Tim cried.

Em turned around and her eyes widened in surprise, if not from shock. That fall had been a nasty one. All over Tim's front and on his arms was blood. Em heard Michael take in a sharp breath and knew he saw her injury. "Your back," she heard him whisper.

An ear-splitting whistle noise pierced the air and all three of them looked towards the direction from where Tim and Em came from. At least a dozen soldiers were coming towards them.

Em threw the bag to Tim and began to climb the ladder. "Let's get out of here! We have everything we need!" she told them. Tim and Michael obediently followed without another word of her injury. Once on deck, she addressed Tim. "Tell the crew to set sail. We're out of here now!"

Tim nodded and went off to follow his orders. Em looked at Michael who was still looking at her with concern. "We can't just stand here Michael! Man the steering wheel!" she told him.

Michael nodded and followed her up another set of stairs where the steering wheel was. As she past some of her crew members, Em felt them staring at her back. "Hurry, hurry you imbeciles or the Company will get us!"

"Where off to captain?" Ozz asked as he brought forth the world map and laid it on the table there.

"Anywhere but here," she said curtly.

Tim came towards them and heard her remark. He cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed, "Alright lads! You heard the captain! Let's get out of here!" The bustle increased tenfold.

"Here captain, your sword." Michael passed Em her weapon which she promptly strapped to her belt. She turned to Michael and pointed a finger at him, feeling very lightheaded at the moment. Spots soon appeared in her vision. "Didn't I tell you not to call me cap-" Em fainted then and there, crumbling at her best friend's feet.

"Emelia! Captain!" her friends cried.

Michael was the first to get to her and picked her unconscious form bridal style. He turned to Tim. "Tell the crew to get us out of here," he commanded, immediately filling in the role of captain for his friend. "I don't want to see one speck of Port Royal when I come back, got it?"
Tim nodded without question, although it was plain as day in Michael's eyes that it was he who wanted to be holding Em. Michael told Ozz to follow him and they walked down the steps towards Em's Captain's Quarters. Ozz opened the two doors and Michael strode in with Em. He carefully deposited her onto the large reclining couch on her side. And once Ozz retrieved some gauze, they set out to take care of her nasty wound she had recieved. Apparently, Em had landed hard on a sharp stick which broke. She had a splinter deep into her back which miraculously was lodged to the left of her spine.

As Michael's cold fingertips brushed against the part of Em's skin that bled heavily, Em's body suddenly shook and she began to mutter in her unconscious state.

"Mmh Jack. . . why. . . ? Fhmf . . .loved you."

Ozz and Michael traded sad looks over Em. Poor girl . . .

Out in the docks, a burly figure observed all the mayhem out in the docks from behind a cart full of barrels. A boat was getting away from the troops working for the East India Trade Company which was the cause of the mayhem. The man watched warily at the passerby. Gibbs checked it the coast was clear before sinking back behind the cart. He turned to the fellow pirate sitting next to him. "I think it's okay to get away right now while everyone is in a mess, Jack."

Captain Jack Sparrow looked at Gibbs and grinned. He was a very rough and rogue looking man in his early 30s. Tall, dark, and handsome didn't quite come close to describing this infamous pirate that has made a permanent place for himself in the law. "Well of course, but why go empty handed I say?" Jack pointed at the labels on the barrels behind them.

Gibbs turned his head and read the word "Rum". He turned to his captain with a conspiratorial smile and nodded. "The boys are gonna be delighted about this," he chuckled as he and Jack began to carefully push the cart back to their ship, The Black Pearl; the fastest ship in the world.

At the dock, Gibbs called up to the crew, "Oy laddies! Yer captain got you all a gift!"

"RUM!!" the whole crew shouted in delight and began to bring the goods onto the ship.

Jack grinned as he fully accepted his crew's praises when he stepped on board. Jack laughed out loud and held up his hands. "Not that I'm stopping you all from saying how much of a fantastic captain I am, but can we get a move on? I don't see anyone trying to get us out of this port, and as I just saw, Beckett's going to be here any second!" he told his crew.

Gibbs addressed the crew immediately. "Okay, you heard Jack! Ship us out of here!" he yelled. Once the rum was secured down in the cellar, everyone was hurrying to meet Gibbs' orders.

"Oy!! It's Jack Sparrow!" An officer had finally spotted Jack and his ship and was alerting others already. Unfortunately, the Black Pearl was already out of the docks.

Jack hurried up to the side and yelled, "That's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow you idiot!" Jack tipped his triangular-shaped hat up away from his mischievous dark eyes, threw his head full of wild hair back, and laughed out loud as every soldier from Port Royal watched helplessly as he once again escaped.

Gibbs walked up beside his captain and chuckled at the onlookers. "So where are we going now, captain?" he asked Jack once the island began to shrink in size from their view.

Jack spotted another ship a few yards away sailing quickly away from the island. He couldn't spot the name of the ship because large pieces of cloth hung on all of its sides. He wondered for a moment if someone on that ship had been the cause for the trouble on Port Royal. Quickly dismissing the thought as unimportant, he turned away from the disappearing island and looked around with a satisfied grin across his handsomely rough features. He looked towards Gibbs and saw him still standing there. "Oh, you actually wanted an answer?" Jack asked.

Gibbs nodded.

Jack thought for a moment, and then grinned once more, this time most lecherously. "I think I should pay Tia Dalma a little visit, eh?" he said more to himself than Gibbs.

Gibbs laughed and nodded. "O'course captain! And we can celebrate our good bounty while we're there!" He turned to the crew. "Set course for Tia's place!" he ordered them.