Chapter XIV

"Wrong territory?" Jack asked in a musing fashion. He turned back to Fidda with narrowed eyes. "Out of his home waters, is he?"

"In a manner of speaking, yeah," Fidda confirmed. "He was flyin' the colors of Odion the Twin. Some call 'im Odion Kin Slayer. Our fella shouldn't have been within at least a parsec of this system."

"Odion the Twin?" Jack asked still musing.

"The Boss of the Benin Straights," Fidda explained. "Smallest territory in the Expanse. Called the Twin 'cause he killed 'is twin brother to inherit 'is territory alone." Jack grimaced at this information. Fidda went on, "This is the Wahrg Rim Confederacy. Stone Fist McGruder rules it. He's not one to be crossed and would skin our prisoners alive if he caught 'em out here."

"So why, I must ask, did our good captain put himself in such a dangerous position?" Jack continued to muse. "Couldn't have been blown off course so far. From what I know of these navigational devices of yours, he would have known where he was, pretty well."

"Even if 'is charts were out of date," agreed Fidda. "What do you make of it, Jack?"

"He might have been cocking a snook, as they say, but seems too much a risk. Something's afoot, Fidda." Jack turned to look out at the ether with all of its winking stars. "Amelia should be able to get it out of him, lass. We'll need to keep a weather eye out. See if anything else comes up in this vein. Might be nothing to do with us."

"Or it might," Fidda murmured. She was thinking along similar lines to Jack but also wondering what, if anything, it might have to do with her father.

"If you think of anything, let me know," Jack said low enough that only she would hear him.

Fidda glanced around warily, it wouldn't do to give the crew anything more to worry about, then gave Jack a nod before heading for her longboat. Both captains were unsettled by this development.

The Witch, as it turned out, had come through the battle completely unscathed. She had pounced on the Wake Herald before the pirate crew had even known she was there. They'd never gotten a shot off. Morsa was virtually undamaged also. A few stray musket shots from the pirates aboard the old galleon had scored her masts and rigging but nothing more severe. After the brief ceremony of sending the dead off into the nearest star's gravity well with due respect Jack, affecting a self satisfied mood of good cheer, left Lh'aer'ri to resume their course and deal with any little troubles that might arise. There was something aside from the news about the pirates in the wrong territory that was occupying Jack's mind for the moment and he wanted to see to it before anything else interrupted him.

Once in his cabin Jack drew out three small wooden bowls from his cupboard. Placing them upon his small table he had just turned back to the cupboard when a knock came at his door. Frowning and slightly crest fallen Jack stepped to it and opened it a crack. As he had expected it was the tall, slim Osier standing quite like a specter of ill omen in the companionway. Grudgingly, Jack opened the door to admit the dark clad figure. He closed the door softly behind him.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening my good gargoyle?" Jack asked gesturing to one of the chairs.

Osier scowled mildly at Jack but sat with the innate grace of a predator. His movements were a study in languidly precise economy. For his part Jack slumped carelessly as he always did. He knew this game well, having played it from both sides many, many times over the years. His father had taught him to never run from a dog or any other predator. Such would only bring on the attack. Jack used his fingernail to pick an imaginary something from between his golden teeth then bestowed a grin on his unwelcome visiter.

"Why did you engage those ships?" Osier asked finally.

"There should be a 'captain' in there somewhere," Jack said mildly.

"Why did you engage those ships, Captain?" Osier said after a short silence. It was easier to deal with this insufferable human if he gave in to this particular idiosyncrasy.

"I didn't," replied Jack dismissively.

Osier narrowed his venom-dark eyes at Jack. The man could not seriously be trying to deny the battle had happened, could he?

"I engaged one ship," Jack explained when Osier did not rise to the bait.

Resignedly Osier asked, "Why did you engage the pirates, Captain?"

"Bit of profit. Good test to see how the men would act in battle. Good to know how the ship would act, too." Jack gave Osier a wolf's grin. "Might have gotten someone killed."

That took Osier by surprise. He was sure Sparrow meant the first officer. For only an instant his stoic calm faltered and his eyes widened. He mastered himself almost as quickly but Jack had not missed the reaction.

"You know where we are sailing from here?" Jack asked casually.

"Port Cerberus, Captain." The title came more easily to Osier's lips this time.

"I won't be taking any of you with me." Jack leaned forward in his seat a bit. "One of you needs to shadow us. Watch me back, as it were. No good trusting anyone in that port. I don't want any of the crew knowing one of you is shadowing me either. I expect I'll be gone for no more than two watches. That should be easy enough to work out for the three of you."

"Aye, Sir," Osier nodded. "I'll see to it."

Jack gave him a firm nod then stood and gestured to the door. He closed it behind the dark figure of Cobarde's man before turning back to what he had been doing before he'd been interrupted. The three bowls were already sitting on the table so he went to the cupboard and drew three bottles out. He filled one bowl with purp juice. It smelled sweet and savory. The next bowl he filled with a pale green milk that Broad Foot seemed fond of. The third he poured full of a harsh tasting wine Grugh had given him. The next step in his plan was a little more intricate. With a good cloth he dipped a sappy substance Dr. Meriwether preferred for polishing his shoes from a small tin. It was slick and rolled smoothly onto the surface of the table. Jack coated the whole top in an even sheen then placed the bowls in the center. His trap set, Jack departed the cabin for a tour of the ship.

"Brraadtt," Broad Foot said as he ran a stone over the edge of one of his arrow points. They were sitting in the tween decks of the Witch since Brraadtt was not on watch. Brraadtt had disassembled his pistol and was cleaning each part maticulously. "Why did Knot Hair attack that sky shell?"

"Pirates," Brraadtt said in the trade language since Broad Foot's own tongue did not have a word for pirate. It didn't have a word for ship or boat either but the old Clevari knew what the Raposa meant by 'sky shell'.

Broad Foot chirped a reply that could have meant what, how or when. On Earth someone would have said, "Huh?"

"Like the bad people we fought on your home," Brraadtt explained in the Raposan tongue.

"Why did we come here?" Broad Foot wanted to know.

"We look for Blue Frown's father," Brraadtt explained. Blue Frown was what Broad Foot called Fidda.

"Not what I ask," Broad Foot said with a shake of his head. "You. Me. Why did we come here?"

Brraadtt considered for a long moment before answering, "Keep Knot Hair out of trouble."

Broad Foot blinked owlishly at his friend. He scratched behind one ear with his foot then chittered in the way Brraadtt knew was the Raposa version of a derisive snort. Brraadtt gave him a puzzled look.

"No can do," Broad Foot said flatly then went back to sharpening his arrows.

Jack had taken a turn around the ship in a general inspection sort of attitude. The men had all been properly deferential to him, knuckling their brows when he passed if their hands were free to do so. Mostly he found their deference pleasing but part of him felt uncomfortable with it. He liked having respect but this seemed somehow forced. Granted, these men had volunteered to join his crew but they were now constrained by their contracts to serve and obey. If the crew didn't like their officers they weren't able to do anything about it unless they wanted to mutiny. Jack didn't like mutiny but understood it. There was such a thing as just cause. Barbossa had not had just cause when he had led the mutiny on the Pearl. These thoughts darkened Jack's mood considerably. He paused scratching his chin in thought remembering that fateful night and the island. One pistol. One shot. One sworn oath of vengeance. A lot of rum and then the meeting with Amelia. Three months and a bit. Had it really been so short a time? It felt like a lifetime ago. Almost as if it had been a dream. Not wanting to cause rumor among the crew Jack made his way quickly back to his cabin to see if anything had come of his trap.

As soon as he stepped through the door it was clear his trap had worked. The three bowls were gone from the little table. They now sat neatly stacked to dry next to his small sink. He had expected that, if nothing else. For the moment he ignored them and went directly to the table. Jack bent at the waist peering intently at the polished surface. He had to inspect it very carefully looking at it from several angles before discovering what he'd hoped to. Footprints, very faint, marred the polish. There were other faint marks as well. He couldn't be sure but they might have been made by feathers. They might also have been made by a cloth run over the surface but that seemed unlikely. Jack moved to look at the smears from a new angle and noticed in one spot that the surface had certainly been buffed with something. Where the bowls had sat there were only two rings in the polish. The third, the middle one, had been wiped away and a smear in the polish to one side indicated that a larger area had been wiped, too. The middle bowl had contained the milk. Jack straightened up and smiled to himself. He was right. And now he had bait.

"Mr. Kaholo," said the strong, feminine voice of Lieutenant Alamimo.

Intepere turned from swabbing down the deck straightening when he faced the very attractive Pajakian officer. He was uncertain what might have prompted her to speak to him. The lieutenant had mostly avoided Intepere since the incident with Kreed in the companionway.

"You did well during the boarding action," Alamimo said a bit stiffly. Her eyes traveled up and down his uniform before she went on, "And you have begun to shape up into a proper spacer. I have entered your name in my log and will note your actions in my report. It is little enough for saving the other members of the party and myself but I thought you would like to know."

"Um... Thank you, ma'am," the young Heliwr replied earnestly. "Very kind of you, Lieutenant."

Alamimo cleared her throat and sniffed uncomfortably. "Yes. Well, keep up the good work. You... uhm... may return to your duties."

Intepere knuckled his brow, Alamimo gave curt nod and each turned away. As Alamimo strode aft she glanced seraptisiously over her shoulder as though glancing to be sure the spacers had returned to their work. She was slightly embarrassed to see Intepere still looking at her and she quickly found something else to occupy her attention. Even so a little smile crept across her face and her step was just ever the slightest bit lighter.

Intepere had been surprised that the young lieutenant had spoken so civilly to him and had not realized he'd watched her retreat until she had looked back. He felt himself flush with heat as her eyes for the briefest moment were on him again and before she had turned her attention elsewhere he had already spun back to his work wide eyed and confused.

"Careful, lad," Kreed growled in an amused way. "She's an officer. A fine lookin' las fer all that but an officer first, eh? Don't reach above yer station."

Intepere blinked at the older privateer. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do ye not?" Kreed chuckled swiping his mop back over the deck to buff out a scorch mark left by one of the pirate's muskets. "Ye caught 'er eye, lad. As I hear it, ye'r quite the hero fer save the boarders. That'll turn any girl's head, even one like 'er. But she's an officer first and it won't matter when orders is given. Discipline, boy. That's what makes a ship run. And if ye think she'll ferget that ye'r mistaken. Keep it reigned in is all I'm sayin'. This war won't last ferever."

"You mean she..." Intepere stuttered to a stop staring at the old spacer.

"Aye, lad," Kreed smiled bemusedly. "Ye d'n't know? Lad, women is women. And ye'r young, the both of ye. Time enough fer patty-fingers later. Here now, get back to swabin' afore the bosun see ye."

"But she..." In spite of himself Intepere glanced back over his shoulder at Alamimo. "The first time she talked to me she chewed me out. And the way she spoke to us in the companionway... I thought..."

"Swab, boy. Don't think." Kreed laughed at the boy as they continued cleaning the deck. It amused him all the more when the young Heliwr tripped over his own mop because he'd turned yet again to look at the lieutenant.

"You should take greater care of this thing," Dr. Meriwether said adjusting a strap on Lieutenant Lh'aer'ri's prosthetic leg. "It's a good model but landing on it the way you did is really pushing its limits."

"I didna' try to break it, Doctor," Lh'aer'ri replied a little stiffly. The doctor had been good enough to come to the quarterdeck to tend him so that he wouldn't need to leave his post. "And the bloody thing makes ma stump itch."

"Itch?" asked the doctor. "Itching is a good sign, Lieutenant. Means the tissue is growing back. I thought this wound just occurred."

"Aye, less than a month ago, I think."

"And what of your arms?"

"Oh, they've been coming along nicely, sir," Lh'aer'ri flexed his right arm stump to demonstrate the amount of movement he'd regained. "See? Growing, too. I've had to let ma sleeves out twice since the awards ceremony."

"Hhmmph," Meriwether said making a final adjustment to the straps on Lh'aer'ri's stump. "Interesting. Well, Lieutenant, that should do you for the time being. Please be careful with thing. We can fix it or replace it but if it were to give out on you in the middle of a fight it could be fatal."

"I'll try, Doctor," Lh'aer'ri assured him.

"While I'm here, Lieutenant," Meriwether said softly as if he didn't want to be over heard. "What do you think of our captain? I hear he's a savage from an undeveloped world. Any truth to that?"

Lh'aer'ri frowned down at the portly man with disapproval.

"I mean no offense, Lieutenant," Meriwether said raising placating hands. "It's just in my position I hear things from the crew, you understand. I'm just curious. That's all."

"The captain is a good a man," Lh'aer'ri said firmly. "I've seen him in action more than once and he saved the lives of the Commodore's children and the Commodore herself. More than that, he's lucky."

"Lucky, eh?" Meriwether nodded sagely rubbing his chin. "Good qualities. But what of the rumors?"

"They're true, Doctor." Lh'aer'ri nodded curtly. "I wouldna' go so far as to call him a savage, though. In his own way Captain Sparrow is quite courtly. Very civilized compared to many men I've served with. As I said, he's a good man and I'll not stand for anyone to slight him."

"Nor should you," Meriwether agreed. He looked up into the big Basheevee's earnestly. "And nor shall I, Lieutenant. I'll see to it the rumors stop."

"Thank you, Doctor," Lh'aer'ri said sincerely. They shook hand and tentacle in agreement before the doctor turned away to tend to his duties while Lh'aer'ri tended to his own.