Sora and Steven waited eagerly as they approached the next destination. It soon came up on the screen and Sora leaped in excitement when he saw what was coming.
"Port Royal!" he cheered. "Yes!"
"You've been here before too?" Steven asked. "What's this place like?"
"There are pirates here," Sora answered. "Though they're supposed to be criminals, they're the side you want to be on in this place. I met one named Jack Sparrow and he's one of the most puzzling people I've met, but he's great."
"Why do we want to be criminals here?" Steven asked. "Isn't that the opposite of being a hero?"
"Well, it seems so," Sora allowed. "But there are some British suits here that are really uptight. Plus this isn't the kind of piracy you're used to. It gets pretty crazy, in a demented way."
"That's the way I like it!" Steven cheered. "Now let's go down and-"
A giant boom was heard as something collided with the ship. Sora and Steven were thrown about as their ship spun off-course. "What's going on?" Steven shouted.
Sora leaped to his feet and ran for the cockpit. Outside, he could see several lasers firing at the ship coming from multiple sources. "Heartless ships!" he called.
"They have ships now?" Steven cried. "Oh, great!" He rushed for the dashboard and pressed a button. Two metal plates retracted and from them, joysticks, each with one button, ejected into their hands. "I'll steer, you shoot!"
Sora took the joystick and held down the button. A steady, rapid stream of laser bolts cascaded into the empty space. He moved the controls to strike approaching ships. "I forgot how much I missed this!" Sora laughed as ships began to explode one by one under his fire.
"Halt!" Steven shouted. Surprised, Sora stopped shooting, before he felt the ship take a diving maneuver to avoid a stream of bolts that headed towards their rear. Taking another turn, Steven managed to flip the ship one-hundred eighty degrees and head for the ship that fired upon them. "Now!" Sora, getting into the rhythm, grabbed the joystick and slammed on the button again. Another flash of fire told him that the laser had done its job.
"How'd you learn to fly like that?" Sora asked, still in awe of the spectacle he'd just experienced.
"I built my own ship when I was fourteen, Sora," Steven reminded. "Plus, in my travels, I worked under one of the best pilots out there. He has basically the fastest ship ever built. He said it made a run in less than twelve parsecs. That confused me, because a parsec is a unit of distance, not time, but apparently making that run was a big deal. The guy was a great teacher, though. His name was-"
He was interrupted by the ship rocking again. "Crap!" Steven took up the joystick again and continued to get the ship out of the way. He looked up to see a sonar mechanism on the dashboard. "There's only one more out there!" He spun the ship around to face it and Sora let loose a flurry of bolts. However, this particular ship had some kind of deflector shield on the front that redirected the bolts off to the side.
"That's not good," Steven noted. "Let's try from behind." He steered the ship, trying to get behind the Heartless vessel, but he could see that the vehicle moved as well, making sure they didn't get that chance. "That ship's weak point is definitely the rear." Steven smiled. "Then try this!" Steven wheeled the ship around and headed directly at the ship.
"Are you crazy?" Sora shouted as he saw the ship they approached getting too close for comfort.
"Maybe a little bit!" Steven admitted. "Students take after their teachers after all!" Before colliding with the ship, Steven quickly spun the joystick again, bring the ship around. It was now flying away from the ship. "Sora, when I say 'now', you shoot no matter what!"
Sora grasped the joystick nervously and nodded. "Okay!"
"Good!" Steven took hold of a lever with his right hand. "Don't ever try this at home, kids." He yanked the lever upward and the ship rapidly shot higher into the air, placing it slightly above the other ship. Then Steven pulled the lever back and the ship was launched backwards, as if Steven had floored it in reverse. Satisfied, Steven grasped the joystick again and dived to the ship. "Now!"
Without a question, Sora fired the streaming bolts of energy at the vehicle. He saw a few small explosions on the back of it and that's when he realized that their enemy's shields had not protected the back. It was too late for the Heartless ship to do anything about it now, as it slowly began to plummet deeper into space, burning and collapsing. Steven halted the ship, allowing the enemy to drift away while Sora continued to fire. After several more seconds and hits, a large fireball filled the area and the pieces of the ship scattered the airspace.
"Whoa," Sora gasped. He slowly released the joystick as it slid meticulously back into its compartment. He turned to Steven and his look of awe turned into excitement. "That was awesome!" He high-fived his friend in celebration.
"That was pretty awesome," Steven agreed. "As my teacher always said, 'Great, kid, but don't get cocky. You have to keep yourself prepared and alert, but never overconfident...unless you're me, which will never happen'." He shrugged. "A bit wordy, but it's good advice."
"Advice he didn't seem to take," Sora mused.
"He doesn't need to," Steven said. "Because he's himself, he's the only one who doesn't have to worry about anything. He's that good!" He plopped himself into the pilot's seat. "Alright, let me maneuver into the atmosphere. Our ship will be safe enough once we're inside." Tapping a few buttons on the dashboard, he commanded the ship to descend into the world so that they could teleport in. You know this world better than I do, so I hope you know the people we end up having to deal with." He clicked the final switch and rose from his chair. "Ready, Sora?"
Sora nodded. "Ready."
Steven, getting his confirmation, pressed his hand against a button on the wall. The teleporter started up and with a flash of light, both of the Keyblade Wielders were transported off of the ship. The machine crackled with electricity as it finished its job.
Sora opened his eyes as he felt himself materialize on solid ground. Or as he realized after he felt himself bobbing up and down, the solid deck of a ship. He paced over, admiring the wheel of the ship, though there was nobody at it, meaning this ship was definitely anchored. Sora took a few steps down the stairs and he spotted a man on the main deck, drinking an amber liquid from a dusty bottle and singing in a low, grizzly voice.
"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest.
Yo ho ho, and a bottle of rum
Drink and devil had done for the rest.
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!"
He cackled as he took a drink from the bottle of what was most likely rum. After a moment of enjoyment, he turned his gaze, scanning the area. The sea rocked the ship, a boy was coming down the stairs, the rum was good-
He halted and turned his gaze back to the stairs, where said boy, one with spiky brown hair, had reached its bottom step. "You there!" he called. "What are you doing aboard the Black Pearl?"
Sora lurched as he heard the name of the ship. "The Black Pearl?" he repeated. Then he laughed. "Oh, that's a relief!"
The man snapped his hand to his side and pulled a pistol on Sora. "All hands! Intruder!"
Before Sora knew what happened, several other pirates had made their way to the deck and all had swords and pistols drawn and aimed at him. "Wait!" he shouted. "You don't have to do this!"
"Everyone fire on three!" the man with the rum bottle commanded. "One-"
Sora frantically looked around trying to come up with a plan of action. If he didn't do it soon, he'd be shot down right here.
"Two-"
He thought to himself: What would Jack do?
"THR-"
"PARLAY!" Sora bellowed, making sure that everyone heard. As he had hoped, they all ceased their assault, and slowly lowered their weapons.
"He knows about parlay?" a short, bald, midget sailor whispered in surprise.
"That's right," Sora confirmed, walking up to the man who held the bottle of rum. " I'm not too unfamiliar with the ways of pirates. Now does anybody here want to tell me what happened to this ship's captain?" The crew members looked to each other in confusion. "Let me repeat myself a bit more clearly," Sora said. "Where is Jack Sparrow?"
Upon this statement, the crew gasped in surprise. The man with the rum bottle stepped forward slowly. "It appears we're not dealing with your average stowaway, men," he said, stepping to Sora. "How do you know of Cap'n Jack?"
"He and I have some past experiences," Sora replied. "He may have mentioned me before, but we'll save that for later. Can I see him?"
The man shook his head. "Not yet. The Cap'n is on a venture, but I expect he'll be back soon." He looked out to the dark water, as if looking for something. He must've spotted it because he chuckled happily. "Looks like I was right." Without warning, he gripped Sora by the collar. "Now listen here, lad: you're only under parlay's protection until negotiations are complete, and I swear, if you are lying about your so called 'experiences' with Jack Sparrow, you're as good as dead."
Sora gulped visibly, but took a deep breath. "Completely understood," he agreed, trembling a bit. He retreated back to the mast and leaned there, waiting for his friend to bail him out of this.
Then, up the ship's side, Sora saw him: Jack Sparrow. He hadn't changed his attire much, wearing a long, brown coat, sporting dreadlocks that hung down past his shoulders, his head adorned with a bandana and a triangulated leather hat, and several rings on his hands, climbed from the water, placing a skeleton's arm into the hand of the man with rum.
"Not exactly according to plan, was it Cap'n?" the man questioned.
"What can I say?" Jack shrugged. "Complications arose. I overcame them. That's how it usually works." Jack headed for his cabin, but was halted by the man.
"That's all well and good, Cap'n, but there is another matter to attend to. We found a stowaway aboard the ship, but he declared 'parlay' and is claiming he knows you."
"I will admit that I have associated with certain notable people in the past," Jack allowed. "What's he look like?"
"See for yourself," the man said, gesturing to the mast. Sora looked up, smiling, as Jack turned to face him. Jack's eyes momentarily seemed to bug out of his head. Sora watched him blink several times to be sure this was not an illusion. Sora could see he was having difficulty, so he played a trump card. He held out his hand so that column of light could erupt within his grip, showing Jack the weapon of choice.
Jack stared at the blade for a few seconds, then sauntered forward. His grim, serious look faded and was replaced with a small smile. He began to chuckle lightly before he held out his hand. "Welcome back aboard the Pearl, my friend."
Sora grinned in response, shaking Jack's hand. "Good to see you again, Jack."
Turning to face the crew, Jack gestured to Sora. "Crew, may I present to you a very good friend of mine: Kora!"
"Sora," Sora corrected hastily.
"Sora!" Jack amended at once. "I may have mentioned him to you lot before." The crew shook their heads. "I'm pretty sure I did. No? Well, it's quite a tale. With the assistance of him, two talking animals, a whelp, and the whelp's girlfriend, this boy managed to help me get back the Black Pearl and kill my old first mate, Captain Hector Barbossa."
This should go without saying, but this bit of news was quite intriguing to the rest of the crew.
"That kid helped you kill Barbossa?" the midget gasped.
"Yes," Jack confirmed. "And now he's arrived to help me out once again."
"Sure, Jack," Sora nodded.
"Good lad!" Jack patted him on the shoulder. "But first, introductions. This is Mr. Gibbs, my first mate." The man holding a rum bottle nodded. "And yes, he always smells like that."
The second man he pointed to was the bald midget. "This is Marty, the shortest pirate you'll ever meet!" The midget held out his fist, which Sora pounded in return.
"And this is Mr. Cotton and his parrot!" A man with a graying beard that wore a blue bandanna and sported said parrot of the same color on his shoulder nodded to make his presence known. "He's taught the parrot to talk for him, due to the fact that he has no tongue," Jack explained. "To this day, nobody has figured out how."
"AWK! Hard to starboard!" the parrot squawked.
"He likes you," Jack translated. "Now Sora, my dear mate, I believe you could be of some assistance to me."
"What do you need, Jack?" Sora asked curiously.
"I need that lovely key of yours," Jack said, fingering it. "Not for myself. I already tried that and it did not work. No, I simply need you to use it for my purposes, eh?" From his pocket, he pulled a cloth from his pocket and held it between two fingers. "Gentlemen, I present to you this." He loosened his grip and allowed the cloth to unfurl before the crowd of pirates. "What do you see?"
"It's a key," Marty pointed out.
"Close, but no cigar. It is in fact a drawing of a key," Jack corrected. "Now Sora, you of all people should know what keys do."
Sora nodded. "They lock and unlock things," he confirmed.
"Oh!" Gibbs appeared to have something to say. "And whatever this key unlocks, there is something valuable inside." He rubbed the fingers of his right hand together greedily. "So we're setting out to find whatever this key unlocks!"
Jack crumpled up the cloth and placed it back in his pocket. "No." This put a look of confusion on the face of his crew, so he proceeded to explain. "We have a key, courtesy of my friend Sora, which would mean we should be able to find what we need to unlock and unlock it with no trouble." Confusing them more, Jack got to the point. "However, we do not have the key on the cloth. By leaving that key out there, we are giving others who are searching for what we need to unlock a chance to recover the key and get to what we need to unlock before we do."
Gibbs gasped in realization. "So we're going after this key to make sure no one else gets it!" he declared.
Jack narrowed his eyes. "You're not making any sense at all. Any more questions?" he added to the rest of the crew.
"So..." Marty piped up. "Do we have a heading?"
"Ah!" Jack reached his arm over and pulled out his trusty compass. "Yes, indeed! We shall sail-" He hesitated as he waited for the arrow to stop spinning. "In a general-" His finger twirled absentmindedly before he decided to simply wing it. He led his hand in one direction, then yanked it to point the other way. "That-way direction!" He snapped the instrument shut. "Come on, you all know how this works. Get this ship moving!"
As Jack retreated to his quarters and the rest of the crew dispatched to their stations aboard the Pearl, Gibbs and Marty stepped aside to lean against the ships rail. "I don't know if you haven't noticed," Marty began, "but the captain seems to be acting a bit strange-" There was a short pause before he added, "-er."
"Aye," Gibbs agreed. "Sailing without knowing his heading. Something has Jack vexed, and that ain't a good thing. Whatever thing in this world bodes ill for Jack Sparrow will bode ill for us all."
Sora paced along the railing. He surveyed the ship, preparing to get his bearings back so that he would be able to assist the going-ons aboard the ship. He surveyed everybody on the ship, as he would be acquainted with everybody aboard soon.
That's when it hit him. His eyes darted back and forth around the ship, looking for a certain person. His pace quickened to a fast walk as he made his way from one end to the other. He searched every visible part of the deck, but his fears were confirmed.
Steven had not appeared on the deck of the ship with him.
When he awoke, Steven found that he was laying down on cold, concrete ground. He felt drops of water splatter against him, dampening his body and clothes, which were practically plastered against his skin. He rose from the wet ground and shook each of his limbs, releasing some of the rainwater from his person and loosening the grip that his clothes had on his body. He shook out his hair last, a shower of drops cascading around him.
"Well, could have had a better landing than that," he said aloud. After a few seconds, he expected a reply, but it didn't come. "Sora?" He looked left and did not see his friend beside him. He looked to his right and there was no Sora. "Oh no..." Steven began to shiver, both from nervousness and the water that chilled his body. The teleporter must have gone faulty when we got hit by the blast, he concluded silently I saw Sora disappearing, which means he ended up somewhere completely different in this world. Steven stomped on the ground in annoyance. This is not good at all.
As he looked around a bit more, he noticed a large platform nearby. There sat a woman with curly, light-brown hair, wearing a yellow, laced dress. Wondering why she'd be waiting in this kind of terrible weather, he approached her. "Um-"
Upon hearing his voice, the woman turned her head to see him. "Hi," Steven greeted. "What are you doing sitting here all by yourself?"
"It's my wedding day," she replied. "And I'm waiting for my groom."
"Then I believe he may have just arrived," Steven replied, with just a hint of flirtation. Chuckling, he shook his head. "I'm just joking. Congratulations."
The girl chuckled back. "Thank you." She held out her hand. "My name is Elizabeth," she introduced.
Steven casually shook her hand. "I'm Steven. Nice to meet you." When they released each other's hands, they heard multiple rumbles in the distance in all directions. They looked to the shore of a nearby beach to see men on horseback heading towards the place where they sat. Looking back at a stone building behind them, they saw several soldiers in red uniforms armed with muskets. In the center of their party, a man in more casual attire, a slightly used leather coat and hat, was being led to this courtyard with chains shackling his wrists.
"Will!" Elizabeth gasped. She bolted forward, dropping the bouquet she held as she darted for the man. Steven, unaware of the situation, followed along, finding a spot to observe next to a body of the men in red coats.
Elizabeth breathed heavily as she stood next to the man. "Why is this happening?"
"I don't know," the man answered. He shook his head as he forced a smile. "You look very beautiful."
Elizabeth allowed a chuckle to escape her lips. "I think it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding."
"Let me through!" Steven watched as a man in very fancy, official-looking garments and a curly-haired grey wig tried to pass the uniformed soldiers, but was stopped when two of them crossed the blades at the tips of their muskets right in his path. "How dare you!" the man declared, offended. "Stand your men down at once!" Looking to his left, Steven saw a man that had a neat, white wig with his back to the other man, who apparently had command of these soldiers.
The man in question turned slowly towards the other, showing his face to everybody. "Governor Weatherby Swann," he spoke as two officers removed his leather coat. "It's been far too long."
The first man, Governor Swann, blinked in surprise. "Cutler Beckett?"
"I'm actually Lord Beckett now, to be accurate," Beckett corrected.
The redcoats parted, allowing Governor Swann through. "Lord or not," he replied, his voice showing irritation. "You have neither a reason nor the authority to arrest this man."
"Wrong again, Governor," Beckett replied. "Mr. Mercer?" A grim-faced man held a small log with a stack of papers. Beckett sifted through it for a moment, pulling out the paper he needed. "The warrant for the arrest of Mr. William Turner."
The Governor snatched the document in disbelief, then read over it in confusion. "There must be a mistake. This warrant is for Elizabeth Swann."
"Oh it is?" Beckett said, faking surprise. "My mistake. Arrest her too."
Two redcoats quickly clamped Elizabeth's arms in their grasp. "On what charges?" she cried.
Beckett ignored her, continuing to sift through papers, handing another to the governor. "This is the one for William Turner." He pulled out a third. "I have another for a Mr. James Norrington."
"What are the charges?" Elizabeth demanded again.
This is crazy, Steven thought. Barely a minute here and the first person I befriend is a fugitive from the law?
"Commodore Norrington resigned his commission months ago," Governor Swann announced.
Becket faced the governor, narrowing his eyes. "That is not the answer to the question I asked."
"Excuse me!" Steven stepped forward, ending his silence and calling attention to himself. "I apologize for the interruption sir, but you have failed to answer some questions as well." He gestured to Governor Swann. "He is the governor here. That puts these two under his jurisdiction. Just allow them a moment to hear what they're being arrested for."
Beckett glared at Steve in his mind, but his outside face kept a straight expression. He exhaled and nodded. "Very well, Governor. Tell them."
"The charge," Governor Swann began, "is conspiring to set free a man who was convicted of crimes against the crown and condemned to death, for which-"
His voice choked back in his throat, so Beckett finished the painful statement with a sinister smile on his face. "-for which the punishment, regrettably, is also death." He stepped forward to address the couple. "Do you two, by chance, remember a certain pirate named Jack Sparrow?"
"Captain!" the two snapped simultaneously.
"Captain Jack Sparrow," Will corrected.
Steven's eyes widened momentarily. Wasn't Jack Sparrow the pirate that Sora mentioned? His eyes drifted briefly to Will and Elizabeth. Then these must also be friends of Sora.
"Take them away!" Beckett ordered. As a group of redcoats departed with Elizabeth and Will in tow, the Lord switched his attention to Steven. "I should very much like to know your name, young man."
"I'm Steven," Steven replied.
"How fortunate for you," Beckett answered, shaking his hand.
"It's a nice name," Steven agreed.
"Not exactly what I was getting at," Beckett informed.
"Fair enough," allowed Steven. "But can you help me out? I'm new around here and I'm not really familiarized with your society. For starters, what are you guys talking about when you say 'the crown'?" The gasps of the redcoats were heard all around him, very obvious. "What?" Steven shrugged.
"What do you mean 'what'?" A redcoat declared. "We're talking about His Majesty, the King of England!"
"So we're in England?" Steven concluded.
"Of course we're not, you twit!" a second soldier snapped.
"Jeez!" Steven exclaimed. "Cut me some slack, man. I said I wasn't acquainted with your society."
"Dear boy, unacquainted is one thing, but what you are showing is nothing less than complete ignorance," Beckett cut in.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm ignorant," Steven said, not particularly caring. "You can give it a rest, Lord-person."
"That's Lord Beckett, boy!" Beckett yelled back.
"Okay. Lord Beckett. I'm sorry," Steven apologized. "So, if we're not in England...are we in the New World, across the Atlantic Ocean?" Steven took a wild guess as to why the British would be here, and he made a miracle happen.
"Finally, he shows some sense," Beckett pointed out, ridiculing Steven.
We'll just see about that, Steven thought to himself, taking his state of confusion a step further. "So you're under the rule of a king that is all the way across the ocean?" Steven began to laugh. "I think I speak for a good number of people when I say: Why the heck would you do that to yourself?"
Beckett could no longer hide the irritation from showing upon his face. "Seize him!"
Steven's heart skipped a beat. "Say what?" He was able to yell out that phrase just before his arms were restrained by four different redcoats. "Hey! Guys, can't we talk about this?"
"There is little to talk about," Beckett answered. "You disrespected our great ruler, and you will be punished for that." He gestured east with his right hand. "Take them to our other prison. It's about time we gave some extra company to the two we have in there right now."
The redcoats obliged immediately and they began to drag a struggling Steven towards that prison. Steven tried to break free, but he was trapped in the grip of four fully grown men. He could not afford to summon his Keyblade here. It was best that as few people as possible knew about it.
After about ten minutes of forced marching, the redcoats finally made Steven step inside the prison. "You're wasting your time!" Steven insisted as he was forced towards a cell. "I'll be out of here before you know it!"
"Oh, I know," one redcoat said as he unlocked the cell. "No one that insults the king goes for long before getting the noose." He opened up the doors and the other two redcoats shoved Steven to the ground and slammed the door, proceeding to lock it with the key. He whistled a little bit, and from around the corner, a scruffy dog bounded forward to bite down on the ring of keys, securing it firmly inside his mouth.
"I don't need those keys," Steven muttered to himself, inaudible to the redcoats that were departing. He prepared to summon his Keyblade as they left.
"Well, look what we got here, mate,"
Steven turned around to see what could only be the two men Beckett had mentioned before he'd been dragged here. One of them was bald on top of his head, but had scraggly grey hair that went down to his shoulders. The other had greasy brown hair and one eye that looked unnatural, and Steven soon came to figure out that it was wooden.
"They actually tossed a kid in with a couple o' loony pirates," the wooden-eyed man chuckled.
"And they'll be taking the juvenile delinquent to the noose tomorrow," the other cackled. "Assuming he makes it there."
The pirate with the wooden eye blinked a couple of times. "Why wouldn't he?"
"Because he might have some sort of...accident," the second one whispered.
The wooden-eyed man was still confused. "What kind of accident?" This earned him a smack over the head from the other one.
"Use your head, mate!" he yelled, before turning back to look at Steven, smiling sadistically. Upon seeing this, Steven began to back away from him. "He'll be the unfortunate victim of two prisoners who hate the world for their incarceration."
The wooden-eyed man suddenly got the picture and turned towards Steven. "Not knowing what they was doing," he said. Simultaneously, the two began to edge towards Steven, who was backed into the wall as he tried to move away. He saw them reaching into their ragged jackets. He could tell that they had weapons, so he had no choice but to bring out his own. He placed his hand by his chest and called his Keyblade to his hand.
"Back off!" he shouted. To his surprise, the two leaped back, gasping.
"Blimey, Pintel," the wooden-eyed pirate gasped.
"Blimey indeed, Ragetti," the other agreed. "He's got one too."
"Too?" Steven looked between them and his Keyblade. "You've seen one of these before?"
"We got thrown in here after fighting a kid with one of those!" Ragetti cried indignantly.
"But now we see the tides have turned," Pintel observed.
Steven thought for a moment. These guys just wanted to kill me. But with Sora gone, I have no backup. These guys could give me that until I find him. He looked to the two prisoners. "Do you want to get out of here?" he asked.
"Yes!" they didn't even hesitate to say.
Steven smiled. "Then this is is your lucky day. I'm a pretty forgiving guy, and this key here? It does more than beat the crap out of people." Making sure all the redcoats had evacuated the prison, he tapped the cell's lock with his Keyblade. The cell door moved, squeaking a bit. Impatient, Steven kicked it open, clearing their escape.
Ragetti looked on in shock at what had just occurred. "What're you doing?"
"I'm busting all of us out of here," Steven answered.
Pintel and Ragetti looked at each other, then Steven, then back, confusion plastered over their faces like it was painted there. "Why?" they asked simultaneously.
"I'm a forgiving guy," Steven repeated. "Besides, these suits put me in for questioning the way they run their government. Want to know what I said?" The two pirates nodded. "All I said was that it's ridiculous to let yourself be ruled by a king who's a whole continent away. I mean, come on! Isn't that kind of stupid? And you-" he said, pointing to his cellmates. "Busting you out seems like a good payback, wouldn't you say?"
The two shrugged in agreement. "You savvy real good, kid." Pintel held out his hand. "I'm Pintel."
Steven shook his hand. "I'm Steven."
The other man held his hand out. "Ragetti," he introduced. Steven shook his as well.
"This is pretty cool," Steven decided. "We're like the Three Musketeers " Seeing the look of disgust cross their faces, he quickly made amends. "Except we're criminals." Pintel and Ragetti cackled in approval. "Then let's beat it."
Steven laughed as he walked out of the cell. "Barely been here ten minutes and I'm already a fugitive from the law!" Pintel and Ragetti followed behind him. "And I'm loving it!"
No wonder Sora said this world was cool! Steven thought to himself. As he made to exit the prison, his path was crossed by the small, shaggy dog with a ring of keys in its mouth. Upon seeing the three prisoners, it sat down.
"That's right!" Pintel cried. "We outsmarted you, dog!"
The dog bowed its head in shame. Steven bent over and rubbed its head. "Hey there, buddy. You wanna get out of here too?" The dog's ears perked up and it looked at Steven. The next second, Steven felt himself falling to the building's stone floor, with the dog licking his face. "Okay, boy!" he laughed. "I'll take that as a yes!" Upon getting off, the dog followed obediently behind the group as they stepped out, taking their first steps as fugitives.
"Alright," Steven accepted. "So what do we do now?"
"We have to get some kind of transportation," Pintel replied. "We got to get as far away from here as possible."
"Agreed," Steven said. "So what's your story? How'd you guys get thrown in there?"
Pintel grumbled a little bit. Steven shrank back from him a little bit, giving Pintel a smile. "It all started a couple months ago," he began. "I won't lie. We were in a crew of pirates. Cursed pirates."
"How were you cursed?" Steven wondered out loud.
"We found this shiny Aztec gold," Ragetti said. "When we took it, we became immortal. But it cursed us with that too. Food turned right to ash in our mouth, and drinks literally passed right through us."
"We were not among the living, and so we could not die," Pintel recited. "But neither were we dead. We suffered for ten years before the curse was broken and our captain killed."
Steven frowned. "Ouch," he said sympathetically. "Well, don't worry. Stick with me, and you'll be fine. All we have to do is-" Steven paused, seeing something out in the water. "-find a boat!" he finished, cheering. "That was too easy!"
Pintel and Ragetti cackled in agreement. "For a person with a Keyblade, you ain't half-bad," Ragetti complimented, patting Steven's shoulder.
"Thanks, Ragetti," Steven said, grinning.
The trio rushed towards the shore, where a stray boat was floating, unoccupied and unsecured. "This ought work just fine," Pintel decided, climbing into the boat.
"Come on, mate," Ragetti called to Steven as he followed Pintel into the boat. "We need to get out of here."
"Just a second," Steven assured. "I want a little payback." He summoned his Keyblade, pointed it at the prison, and whispered a spell. "Thunder."
From his Keyblade, a burst of electricity shot towards the stone building that they were trapped in. Steven watched it go, as if in slow motion, for he wanted to savor this moment. Finally, the anticipation at its peak, the spell's energy collided with the prison. The walls shattered and slowly began to fall apart. In the distance, Steven could see the roof of the building collapsing inside. Satisfied, he leaped into the boat.
Pintel and Ragetti had their mouths open wide in surprise. The next second they were cheering Steven on.
"That was brilliant, Stevie!" Ragetti cried in happiness.
"Way to take a shot at the system, mate!" Pintel agreed.
"Thanks!" Steven replied, gratefully. He picked an oar from the boat and set it in its position, preparing to row. "Now we should get the hell out of here before anybody can attribute that to me."
As Steven and Pintel each took up an oar and started to row, a man was standing upon the beach in a discreet location. He wore a black coat and leather hat. His skin was wrinkled a bit, but he had neatly combed brown hair rather than the wig of the general British high authority.
He turned away. This man needed to inform Lord Beckett of what he had seen.
Jack stood before a map in his cabin. His hopes were turning around at the arrival of Sora. Thanks to the boy with the giant key, he planned for his problems to be over very soon. He tipped his bottle of rum back to take a drink, but only a drop escaped from the bottle, for it was empty.
Jack sighed. "Why is the rum always gone?" He stepped towards his coat and stumbled a little bit, swaying from his intoxication. "I suppose that explains it," he muttered to himself. Keeping himself steady, he withdrew the key to the storeroom.
Upon entering, he questioned when the last time he had been down here was. The racks where he kept his bottles were decaying and covered with moss. Doing his best to ignore it, he reached inside and pulled the first one he could see. "There we are!" He opened up the bottle, and nothing but sand flowed out. "Well, that's unfortunate."
"Your time's run out, Jack."
The bottle crashed to the floor and smashed into pieces after Jack let go of it. A gravely voice had spoken from the shadows. Jack strolled over towards the spot where the noise came from. He picked up a lantern from one of the wooden supports and held it before him, illuminating something.
If he hadn't had rum recently, Jack would have freaked out. The figure that now sat upon his ship was covered almost entirely in seaweed. He wore it almost like a coat. On the left side of his face, a starfish was comfortably situated. Jack blinked several times, trying with all his might to rid his vision of someone who was supposed to have died ten years ago.
"Bootstrap," Jack realized. "Bill Turner."
The dead father of Jack Sparrow's former accomplice smiled sadly at his old friend. "You look good, Jack." Water spilled from his mouth as he spoke.
"So...do you," Jack spoke nervously, still trying to comprehend the situation. "Is this a dream?"
Bootstrap shook his head. "No."
"I thought not," Jack concluded. "In my dreams, there's rum."
On cue, Bootstrap held out a bottle for him. Jack grabbed it and, with difficulty, managed to rip it from the grip of his friend. Despite the filth of the bottle, Jack took a long swig, savoring it. It was still rum and it was still good.
"You got the Pearl back, I see," Bootstrap observed.
"I had a little help with that number," Jack revealed. "Some spiky-haired kid with a giant key- on board this ship right now-, a couple of talking animals, and...your son."
Bootstrap looked up. "William?" Jack nodded, to which Bootstrap chuckled a bit. "He ended up a pirate after all."
"Family issues aside, what brings you to visit?" Jack asked.
Bootstrap's tone dropped, grave and serious. "He sent me." Jack blinked momentarily, waiting for the worst. "Davy Jones."
"Oh," Jack realized. "So that's it, then. He shanghaied you into his services, eh?"
"No," Bootstrap said. "I chose it." A small, crab-like creature no bigger than a stone was crawling away from Bootstrap, giving Jack the strange impression that it came off his sea-body. "I'm sorry for the part I played in that mutiny against you, Jack. I was the only one who stood up for you." Bootstrap's hand snapped, snatching up the tiny crab. "Everything went wrong after that." He placed the creature into his mouth, crunching down upon it.
"They strapped me to a cannon and I ended up at the bottom of the ocean," he continued. "The entire weight of the ocean crashing down upon me. I couldn't move. But I couldn't die, Jack. At that moment I knew that if there was a tiny hope of escaping this fate, I'd take it. I would trade anything for it."
Jack nodded as he rose. "Amazing what a man will do to forestall his final judgement, isn't it?"
His path was blocked when Bootstrap arose and stepped in front of him. "Don't forget that you made a deal with him too. He raised the Pearl from the depths for you, and you've been captain for thirteen years."
"Well, technically-" Jack began to argue.
"Jack!" Bootstrap interrupted, shaking his head. "You won't be able to talk yourself out of this. My fate will be yours as well. Your soul, deemed to crew one hundred years upon his ship."
"Yes," Jack allowed. "However, since the Dutchman already has a captain-"
"You can go to the Locker, then!" Bootstrap bellowed, leaning towards Jack, who inched back. "Jones' leviathan will find you Jack. It will drag the Pearl back to the depths with you on board!"
Jack gulped nervously, facing his old friend at an angle. "So...any idea when Jones will release aforementioned terrible beastie?"
Bootstrap shook his head sadly. "I already told you, Jack." He slapped something into Jack's palm. "Your time is up. It comes now." Jack stared at his hand. In the palm, a small dark blob had formed and sprouted several tendrils. It wiggled uncomfortably on his hand. "It comes now. Drawn, with ravenous hunger, towards the man bearing the Black Spot."
Jack's mouth twitched, looking for words to express his distraught state, but there was nobody around to hear it. Bootstrap had vanished.
Sora didn't really register what happened. One second, he was lying in one of the hammocks below deck, the next, Jack was running around the ship shouting orders.
"All hands on deck! Man the fore yard! Give me movement! Movement!"
Sora, confused, decided to comply with the rushing that was taking place. He made it to the deck.
"Run!" Jack continued to shout out orders. "Run as if the devil himself is on your heels!"
Sora was first on deck, due to the fact that he had no reason to change his clothes. Next was Gibbs, who immediately rushed to Jack. "Do we have a heading?"
"Ah!" Jack jumped, startled at Gibbs' appearance. "Er...run! Land!" he stuttered.
Jack ducked behind the mast. He peeked around the other side, seeing Gibbs standing there still. He yelped again.
"What port?" Gibbs questioned.
"Did I say say 'port'?" Jack demanded. "No! I said 'land'! Any land!" Upon that moment of distraction, a rope flew over his head and he felt his hat part contact with his head. Looking up at the rigging, he saw a monkey with a diabolical grin, holding the hat. Not bothering with taunts, it simply dropped the hat. The wind did the rest, carrying it off a decent distance away from ship.
"Jack's hat!" Gibbs shouted. He shouted to Sora, who was closest to the wheel. "Bring her about, lad! We have to get it back!"
Sora nodded and leaped up to the wheel, but Jack was there soon after, and he stopped Sora from turning it. "Leave it!" he shouted. The crew and Sora looked astonished at Jack, who was very jittery. "Just...run!" he repeated.
Gibbs shook off the confusion first. "Back to your stations!" he ordered. He headed towards the captain's cabin to see Jack standing stiff behind one of the staircases.
"Cap'n?" Gibbs stepped towards him. "What are we-"
"SHH!" Jack urged, as quietly as his panic would allow.
Gibbs lowered his voice, but kept his tone demanding. "For the love of mother and child, Jack, what's coming after us?"
"Nothing," Jack answered briskly.
Sora stood above deck, eavesdropping on the conversation. So he was not completely in the dark. He knew that something more demented was going on in the world of pirates this time.
Will stood, keeping his calm. For whatever reason, he had been summoned to Beckett's office. Beckett wanted to negotiate something. That was clear from the fact that he had ordered Will's shackles to be removed.
"The East India Trading Company would like to offer a proposition for you, Mister Turner." Beckett poured a glass of brandy and held it out, but Will didn't accept it. Beckett set the glass down after a moment, then continued. "I need you to go out and make a deal with our mutual friend, Jack Sparrow."
"He's more of an acquaintance," Will corrected. "How did you come to know him?"
"We have dealt in the past." Beckett walked over to the fireplace and held a pair of prongs. A small piece of metal shaped like the letter P was in between them. "We've each left our mark."
"And what mark did he leave on you?" Will questioned. Beckett chose to ignore this question.
"We need you to obtain a certain property of his that we desire," Beckett informed.
"Obtain," Will repeated. "At sword point?"
Beckett shook his head. "Bargain, Mr. Turner." He held up a small journal, filled with a few papers. "Letters of marque, signed by the king. Jack will be free, and employed as a privateer for England and the East India Trading Company."
Will scoffed. "I doubt Jack will consider employment the same thing as being free."
"Freedom," Beckett scoffed in return. "Jack Sparrow is a dying breed. The empty pages of the map are being filled in. The world is shrinking, changing. If Jack does not find his place in this new world, he will perish. Not unlike you, Mr. Turner," he reminded. "You and your fiance face the hangman's noose."
Will nodded in understanding. "I see. This way, you'll get both Jack and the Black Pearl."
"The Black Pearl?" Beckett asked curiously.
"That's the property Jack possesses that you want," assumed Will.
"A ship? Hardly." Beckett shook his head. "The item in question is considerably smaller, and much more valuable. A compass." Will didn't realize his face had reacted, but Beckett smiled in response. "You know of it? Then I think we understand each other. Bring me that compass, or there will be no deal."
Will exited the office without a word. Upon his departure, Beckett welcomed to the arrival of his right-hand man.
"Lord Beckett." Beckett turned to face a man with neat brown hair and wrinkled skin.
"Mr. Mercer," Beckett greeted. "You must have some interesting news to not schedule an appointment."
"In fact I do, my Lord," Mercer confirmed. "I was on the beach today and I witnessed a rather interesting sight. The three prisoners in the south prison were escaping in a rowboat, accompanied by the dog with the keys.
Beckett sighed in irritation. "I suppose that dog was going to be convinced one day or another." He took a sip from his glass of brandy. "Not to worry. A mere rowboat won't make it very far."
"I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that, sir," Mercer replied. "Before stepping into the boat, the boy destroyed the cell that had once held the three prisoners. The instrument he used had the power to shoot what appeared to be lightning that struck the building, crumbling it within seconds. It gets stranger still, for the instrument in question resembled a large, black, key."
Beckett gasped mid-drink, coughing out the liquid onto the floor in shock. "What was that?" he gasped.
"A large, black key, my Lord," Mercer repeated.
Beckett breathed heavily for a few seconds. He downed the rest of his brandy with one gulp. Then he angrily slammed his glass on his desk, shattering it into several pieces. He let out a long sigh, covering his face with his hand. "Maleficent is not going to be happy about this," he muttered to himself.