AN: Sorry this chapter is short, but it's important! I hope all you out there are enjoying the story, and remember to review!


Richard paced the length of the deck for the umpteenth time. All he could think about was Ella…was she safe? Dry? Alive? It was night and they had only been out to sea for three days. Three excruciating days for Richard, especially since he knew it would take another week to reach Savanna, and from there they would need to track Barbossa.

Why would Barbossa want Ella? Richard was almost positive that it was because of that key. Why did the Commodore even give her that key? What did it go to? These were questions Richard had delayed asking for years now, knowing that technically, it was none of his concern. But what if the Commodore doesn't know Ella was kidnapped for the key?

The thought was an interesting one indeed. The key was just speculation on his part. According to the navy, this venture was to arrest a criminal, and if they happened to rescue Ella in the process, so be it. Maybe he would mention it to the Commodore in the morning.

Sighing, he began to approach the stairs that led below deck to his bed. He really wasn't suppose to be up at this time of night, even if he was a lieutenant. But then something caught his eye.

He really couldn't believe he didn't notice it before. The large white sails of another boat were right next to the navy ship the Hildegard. Richard looked toward the Commodore's cabin, and noticed light seeping through the closed blinds. Odd, he shouldn't be up either. After a moment, Richard crouched down behind a barrel, and squinting, read the name of the other ship. The Midas. He frowned, recognizing the name. It belonged to a rising pirate captain by the name of Dawson. What was he doing so close to a navy vessel? Surely he wasn't foolish enough to attack.

And that's when the Commodore stepped out. Strutting to the side, he made a motion with his hand, and slowly, a plank came down from the other side, allowing Captain Dawson to waltz across and greet the Commodore.

He was a bulky fellow with a golden goatee. Age wise, Dawson did not seem particularly old, maybe late thirties, unusual for a pirate captain. In his experience, Richard had seen very few successful pirates who had started at a young age; most were caught and hung, while the older fellows, usually deserters of the navy, were the ones that remained alive and kicking.

Richard couldn't believe what he was seeing. The two men shook hands formally, and then bowed their heads together and spoke softly, too soft for Richard to hear. Finally, they broke.

"I want a pardon for me and me crew and a chest of gold as payment," said Dawson.

"I will see what can be done," answered the Commodore. "Make sure the crew understands the directions. I don't want the wrong person."

"Of course, Commodore. Where you planning to rendezvous? "

"Sail toward Savanna. We will find you." Dawson tipped his hat and, smiling crookedly, stepped onto the plank.

"One question, Commodore. What is it exactly you're going after?"

"I don't believe questions were part of the agreement, Captain Dawson. Goodnight."

Both men departed, leaving Richard hidden in the shadows and stunned. Whatever had just happened, it certainly was not right. If someone had suggested before that the Commodore would have made dealings with the very people he hunted, Richard would have laughed in their face. But now…

One thing was for certain: whatever the Commodore did next, Richard was no longer on his side.