(Authors note: thanks for all of your encouraging and friendly reviews. I was hesitant to post this story because I was scared that I'd get bombarded with reviews saying 'you suck' or 'you know nothing about Jack Sparrow, you n00b'. I'm getting a lot of the info from sites like the PotC 3 message boards on IMDB and wikipedia which is extremely unreliable I found out. For example, I heard from somewhere that the Wicked Wench was Jack's father's ship and somehow it sunk and Jack made a deal with Davy Jones to bring it back and he renamed it the Black Pearl. I also read that the reason why Jack left Beckett's side was refusing to transport slaves, like someone told me earlier, but on other sites there were rumors of Jack trying to save his father, and I thought that fit well with the story. And as for geography, I wasn't really thinking of it, which was my mistake. I'm pretty young (15) and I get enough geography at school. I will maybe edit a few chapters to make it more geographical. And yes, the king did rule at the time, but in the words of Jack Sparrow in DMC… trifles. I thought it was funny and I put it on there. And is there a chance anyone can give me an estimated year the Pirates movies take place in? Thanks… okay, on with the story)

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Jack was sitting in a chair tied up; taking blows to the face from about seven East India Company agents. Beckett was leaning against crates covered in the East India Company's stamp all over them, laughing at Jack's pain.

To Jack's knowledge, they were on a small island, close to Tortuga. Jack was unconscious for most of the way there. He was literally dragged to the building where he was being beaten

"That's enough, men. I told you to keep him alive enough to listen." Beckett ordered.

Beckett came into the light and got close to Jack with a twisted smile on his face and said through his teeth "I bet you wish you would be hung now, is that correct, Sparrow?"

"No, what I really wish is you could do something about your awful breath" Jack smiled and spat in Beckett's face. Beckett quickly got away wiping his face off and pulling a pistol from one of the agents and aiming it inches away from Jack's head.

"It's empty. There were only three shots in it. The big, tall, and ugly one told me," Jack said nodding towards a bigger agent. "He told me 'there's only three shots in this pistol, but I'm only gonna need one'" Jack continued in a mocking deep voice.

"But unfortunately, he was wrong. First, he bloody missed when I was only about two feet away, and the second time, don't ask me how, the ogre managed to shoot himself in the foot, but the third time, he got me, and it hurt like the Kraken itself was eating me alive" Jack finished nodding his head downward to his chest to see blood drizzling down his shirt.

Beckett smiled and pulled the trigger but only hearing a faint click telling him Jack was telling the truth. Beckett threw the pistol into the darkness and returned to leaning against the crates.

In the distance, they heard a slight poomf sound. Beckett stood up straight to listed to the sound and the agents questioned amongst themselves about it, and a small grin slowly crept upon his face and he realized what the sound was: help

Suddenly a cannonball flew through one of the walls of the building and several of the agents dove to the ground.

"It's the Wench!" one of the agents yelled. Beckett and six of the other agents ran through the rubble to return fire, but the poomf sounds only came louder, faster, and closer. The large agent stayed with Jack, making small growling sounds

"You know, in French, the term 'ogre' means 'attractive male who gets females blood pumping'" Jack said trying to get on the agents good side

"Remember that time when you punched me in the nose very hard, and I said 'ow'? Well I think we bonded as one there. So pal, what do you say? Wanna let old Jack free?

"Pal says 'shut up and stay quiet,'" the agent mumbled and he walked towards the damage peeking over the sides watching the skirmish. While the agent was enjoying the intensity of the battle, Jack quietly rocked back and forth on the chair till it tipped forward and he was on his two feet. He tiptoed quietly and slowly towards the backdoor and he creaked the door open using the chair and the side of his head. Once he was safely out the door, he began sprinting towards shore while making an effort to break the chair and stand up straight. After much struggle, he finally felt the chair snap, but he fell over in the process.

After about a minute of lying there, Jack slowly started to roll towards the beach and open water. About midway down the beach, Jack saw that his father's crew wasn't even firing at the agents; they were trying to destroy all of the crates to distract the agents. They knew it would cost the East India Company a fortune and they'd be too distracted by their loss to even whole-heartedly fight that battle or know that Jack was rolling down the beach.

Jack finally felt the cold, clear water touching his ears as he rolled in. He started kicking towards the Wicked Wench. It was difficult for him, having his arms tied. He rolled into the rowboat that was almost level with the water and yelled "Reel up the rowboat!"

Jack sat in the rowboat catching his breathe while slowly going up onto the ship. Two of the crewmembers grabbed his legs and shoulders and set him down. They untied him and got him a towel and wiped of the blood and dug out the shot that was in his chest. Once Jack was as well as he could be at the time, he felt right at home on the deck of his father's ship, The Wicked Wench

"Son, it's good to have you aboard" Grant told him.