AN(original): First off, than you for the reviews! I don't think I've ever gotten this many reviews for a single chapter of a muti-chapter story. Whee! Secondly, I hate to break to the Will fans, but he is not in this chapter. He will however be having tea with Beckett and James in the next chapter (you know the scene). I was going to try the include that scene in this chapter, but my Will muse decided it would be more fun to beat up my Beckett muse than have tea with him, and I must now wait for the Beckett muse to get out of traction. I hope you will be content with the fact that James and Elizabeth sing Will's praises tot eh heavens in this chapter (a task my Norrington muse was much more inclined to do after he found out what Will muse did to Beckett muse). That said, on with the story!

Disclaimer: The entire franchise belongs to Disney.

Good Men – Chapter 2

-Catspook

For what seemed like hours, all Elizabeth could see or feel was water. In reality, it was only a minute or so before her head broke the surface, and she found herself treading water between the bow of the Empress and the stern of the Flying Dutchman. "James!" she called out, but unable to find him in the crowd of deformed crewmen, her only recourse was to swim for the Empress. As she headed towards what was now her ship, she realized that she was not the only one in the water. The rope that had tethered the two ships together had been cut, dropping the crew that had not yet made it to the junk into the sea along with their captain. Fortunately for them, the rope had been cut on the Dutchman's end, leaving them means to climb aboard the Chinese pirate ship.

Elizabeth was the last to board the Empress. Her crew, surprisingly enough, helped her onto the deck with all deference due the captain. She had half-suspected that they would once again renounce her position now that they not longer had guns to their heads, but somehow their miraculous escape had convinced them that she was worthy of the rank Sao Feng had bestowed upon her. She was about to speak when the night was filled a terrible rending sound. The crew looked around, afraid that the Dutchman had somehow managed to fire upon them, but they soon realized that it was the haunted ship itself that was in distress.

The Dutchman was quaking as if it were about to blow apart, but in reality it was shedding the remains of the tortured souls that it had accumulated under the rule of Davey Jones. The ship shuddered, reminding Elizabeth of a dog shaking off water, and all the grotesque growths that had covered the hull and masts of Jones' ship sloughed off into the sea. The crew of the Empress stood on the bow of the junk, staring at the spectacle, wondering if it meant good or ill for them. Elizabeth saw one sailor with a spyglass and immediately snatched it from him to see what was happening on the Dutchman's deck.

She immediately found James, still on the stern of the Dutchman. He was moving, so he was obviously still alive, but he was holding his right hand to his chest as if it pained him. When he turned, Elizabeth could see why. His coat, waistcoat, and shirt were hanging open, and he hand was held to a livid red scar that ran nearly the entire length of his torso. Next to him, two men was snapping closed the lid of the Dead Man's Chest, and one of them locked it with that distinctive, two-pronged key. The man then rose and handed the key to Norrington, and all hands then saluted their new captain.

"Oh, James," Elizabeth whispered, "I'm so sorry."

--

James gasped as he leaned heavily against the stern rail of the Flying Dutchman. He watched dumbly as a man, who had only a minute ago been covered in barnacles and other sea life, placed James' own, beating heart in the dead man's chest. The man and his comrade closed the chest and then locked it with that damnedable key. He then handed the key to James and saluted.

"Your orders, Captain?" his voice as real and human as any sailor that Norrington had ever commanded.

James took a deep breath, but before he could issue his first order, Mr. Mercer charged down the steps towards him. "Norrington!" He bellowed, "What is going on here? Where are the pirates, and what in the Devil happened to Jones?"

"It seems, Mr. Mercer," James replied, "That Davey Jones has been replaced."

"Replaced! By who?"

"Me. And as the new captain of this vessel, I order my crew to take you to the brig."

Mercer's eyes flashed, but instead of objecting, as a normal man would, he smoothly drew his pistol and shot Norrington in the chest. The shot, amazingly enough, had no effect. Mr. Mercer, who now found himself held firmly by three large men and disarmed by a fourth, stared at him. James chuckled darkly. "It appears that your particular skills are now no more effective against me than they were against Jones." He then turned to his crew, "I want this man guarded by no fewer than four men at all times. Someone gather all the officers in the captain's cabin. If it still exists, find the body of Davey Jones and have it prepared for a burial at sea. Drop anchor and signal the captain of the Empress that I wish to discuss negotiations with her at dawn."

"And if they try to flee?"

"Give chase, but do NOT fire."

"And what of the chest?"

Norrington stared at the offending thing, imagining that he could feel the heart, his own heart, beating within it. "Bring it to the captain's cabin also."

"AYE, CAPTAIN," the crew responded, rushing off to perform their duties.

"You, sailor!" James called out, as the man who had attacked him turned to follow his crewmates. "What is your name?"

"William Turner, sir."

"Turner?"

"Aye, sir."

James approached the sailor, studying his face intently. "Are you any relation to a young blacksmith, also by the name of William Turner?"

"Aye, sir. He is my son."

Son? James stared for a moment. What in God's name was going on? "Follow me, sailor, I need to discuss some things with you."

--

Turner sr. proved to be a veritable fount of information regarding the history of the Flying Dutchman. Despite feeling some resentment over Elizabeth, Norrington had always believed Turner the younger to be a brave and honorable (if impetuous) man, and he saw many of those same commendable qualities in the old sailor before him. Bill (or Bootstrap, as he requested to be called) was apologetic about attacking Norrington and, James suspected, feeling quite regretful about the position he had (albeit accidentally) forced upon the admiral. He pledged his loyalty to his new captain then supplied James with all the information he could about the powers, limits, and obligations of the captain of the Flying Dutchman.

James prided himself on taking in all this information stoically, but the same could not be said of Groves, who had arrived in the captain's quarters before any of the other officers.

"WHAT! You mean to tell me that you CUT THE ADMIRAL'S HEART OUT!"

"Groves, calm yourself," James ordered. This appellation seemed to have little effect, so he leaned towards his lieutenant and hissed in his ear, "This is not the time to behave rashly. If I can take this information with a calm face, I should hope that you would be able to." Truthfully, James was terrified by some of what Bootstrap had told him, but Grove's behavior was only making it more difficult to keep his composure. A great many decisions had to be made in the next few hours, and it would benefit no one were he to loose his head.

Theodore was properly cowed, "My apologies, Admiral."

Presently, the other officers arrived, and Norrington informed them of what had occurred that night. Some of the officers objected strongly when James admitted that he had taken the heart and freed the prisoners, but most of these men had served with James before he had lost his commission or witnessed enough of Beckett's corruption to agree that it was not in the best interest if the people they served to aid such a villain. When he explained that he had replaced Davey Jones as the captain of the Dutchman, some of the officers began a cheer, which died when they realized the implications of such an occurrence. The confused, and almost universally concerned, men exchanged looks. "So what is our course if action, sir?" Groves finally asked.

James took a deep breath and straightened his posture before replying, "It is my intention to bring Lord Cutler Beckett to trial and have him executed. He has committed offenses so heinous as to forfeit any claim he might have to be anything other than a criminal, and it is our duty to bring criminals to justice. However," James added quickly when it seemed the assembled officers where about to assent to his plan, "I must remind you that if we fail in this task, every man on this ship will likely be legally found to be a pirate. Even if they survive the battle that will inevitably be joined, they will never be able to return to any reputable port without fear of being tried and hung. This is not a risk I will order any man to take. Every man on this ship will be given to choice to join us or not, and should we succeed in our mission, no one who chooses to stay behind will be punished for his decision."

The officers again looked at one another, until one brave soul spoke up, "Will you really be offering every sailor on this ship such a choice? A man has everything to loose and nothing to gain by taking on such a risk; you'll be left without a single man to support you, sir." Groves glared at the man, but it was Bootstrap who spoke.

"I can't speak for everyone, but there is many a man on the crew of the Dutchman who will be grateful to no longer be servin' under Jones. Even if our debts be settled, most of us have no home but the sea, and never wanted anything more than to sail it under a brave and fair captain. Even should all you navy boys decide to turn tail, we'll still be here to see the job's done."

Many of the older officers glared at Bootstrap, but the younger men (including Groves) seemed to have gathered even more resolve from the old sailor's speech. "I'm with you, sir!" Groves announced proudly, saluting. The younger officers immediately copied the gesture, followed more slowly by the rest of the assembly. In the end, every officer agreed to support Norrington, although the last two to raise their hands in salute seemed very unhappy about doing so. James made a mental note to keep a very close eye on them.

"I thank you, men," James acknowledged, "Now gather all hands on deck so they may be given their chance to decide. Lieutenants Groves, White, and Franchester: see to it that Mr. Mercer is kept under close watch while I speak to the men."

"Yes, sir," The officers chorused, saluting once more. As they left, Norrington turned to Bootstrap, "I thank you for your assistance, sailor. Now what can you tell me about the crew of the Empress?"

--

When dawn came, Elizabeth was perched on the port rail of the Empress, ready to swing over to the Dutchman. She watched as a handful of men were led below decks. "You said we weren't to be punished!" one sailor yelled, glaring at James (who, thank God, still looked human).

"This is not intended as a punishment," James replied calmly, "This is to prove to any ship that might take us that you are not participating in this campaign. When our mission is complete, you will be released unharmed."

The sailor continued to grumble, but preceded onto what Elizabeth assumed was some kind of confinement without any further resistance. James then approached Elizabeth. "Captain Swann," he greeted her, sounding just the same as he always had. "Shall we retire to your cabin to discuss negotiations?"

"You would deign to set foot on a pirate ship?" Elizabeth asked.

James smiled wryly. "As you are well aware, Captain Swann, I have had occasion to converse with pirates before. Besides," he continued more quietly, "I do not wish to risk being overheard by any individuals who may be loyal to a certain corrupt lord of our joint acquaintance."

"Ah, so the men being led below decks…"

"Are only those who admitted that their loyalties lay more with the Company than with justice; I'm more concerned about the ones that are of a more conspiratorial bent."

Elizabeth's wry smile matched James'. "Indeed. Welcome to the Empress, Admiral Norrington."

James followed Elizabeth to the captain's quarters, which had luckily not been too heavily damaged in the battle with the Dutchman. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Elizabeth began, "James, I…"

But James raised a hand to quiet her, "Do not concern yourself with what occurred on the Dutchman, Elizabeth. I have been given a chance to correct many of the mistakes that I have made in these past months, and that is all I desired to achieve. It is my intention now to arrest Beckett and have him brought to trial. After that, I shall have no compunctions about performing the duties of the captain of the Flying Dutchman. I would not have desired to involve you in this battle, but it seems you have already been deeply involved."

Elizabeth could not decide whether to be humbled by James' commitment to obligation, shocked by his intentions for Beckett, or insulted by his assumption that she was not as every bit committed to this fight as he was. After all, Beckett had interrupted her wedding, and she had not stolen the heart to Davey Jones and handed it to said villain. She settled for the second option. "Bring Beckett to trial? Are you serious? Why not just kill him?"

James raised his eyebrows in apparent surprise, "Because the Crown must be made aware of the corruption that has been allowed to fester. Killing Beckett would achieve nothing; he would only be replaced by another like him, and you and Mr. Turner would still be outlaws. However, if Beckett is exposed for what he is, the Crown will be forced to investigate how the East India Trading Company does business, and how such practices reflect on the empire."

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. Apparently, James had much more faith in the British government that Elizabeth did (but then, was that any wonder?) "Do you really believe that?"

James sighed and once again smiled that wry smile of his. "Chances are that even if we succeed in bringing Beckett to justice, and there is a good chance that we won't, he alone will be blamed for what has occurred, and the Company will be allowed to continue to operate as it has been. However, as Mr. Turner once said, 'if all I achieve is to see to it that the hangman earns a second pair of boots, at least my conscience will be clear'."

Elizabeth smiled. "You are a good man, James. Now what exactly did you have in mind?"

(end chapter 2)