James felt his stomach tighten as he got his first look at Capt. Joshua Hopkins of the Raven, formerly of His Majesty's Service. The squinty, pale eyes hooded by thick brows. A short and wide nose hovered over thin lips that split to reveal small, even teeth with large incisors and pointed canines. Little weasel. Little shite; jutting his cleft chin out at Norrington with such distain on his face.

The Admiral stared down at Hopkins, expecting the usual, albeit strained, obsequiousness and pleasantries due to his rank. What he did not expect was -

"What do you want?" Norrington was taken aback. Most of the crew, lately of the Royal Navy, were shocked: those before the mast had gaping mouths while the more restrained, commissioned crew had eyes bugging out of their sockets. The tension on board had been palpable before the boat hooks had been attached to the Raven, now the tension was stretched so tight that it was nearly audible.

"I have come to inspect your ship, your logs, and your mission, Capt. Hopkins," James plowed ahead, showing that he knew how to behave under less than ideal circumstances. Hopkins failed to take notice and act accordingly.

"No." There was muttering in the crowd on deck in the tone of incredulity. The sound infected the Admiral and his face changed from placidity to thunder like a strike of lighting.

"That was not a request." Hopkins belligerent attitude turned to rage.

"You've seen the ship - now shove off. My logs are my business. My mission comes from Lord Beckett himself. You already have a copy of it; you don't need to see mine." In a flash of understanding James understood that Hopkins was hiding something from him and, by extension, so was Cutler Beckett. Capt. Greitzer glanced nervously about the ship from just behind Norrington, expecting a mutiny – or at least a riot.

"I am Admiral of this fleet and I will see out my duty here. If you are not able or willing to perform your duty I will have you removed," James almost added "Midshiteman" to the end of his warning, but thought better of it at the last moment.

"This isn't the Navy anymore. I don't have to take orders from you," Hopkins hissed between clenched teeth as he lurched forward - his fists clenched and trembling at his sides.

In perfect synchronicity James took a step backwards to aim and held out his arm to prevent Greitzer from stepping around Norrington to place himself before Hopkins. Greitzer, seeing Norrington's other hand reaching, retreated behind the Admiral in perfect understanding. Blinking back the hot rage, Norrington managed to pull off the look of being chagrined.

"Of course this is not the Navy," and then James shot the little shite in the thigh. The report of his pistol broke the spell of tension and silence reigned for a few seconds before Joshua Hopkins flopped to the deck in a fit of screaming curses aimed at the Admiral.

James Norrington blew on his hot pistol, sending filaments of smoke fluttering into nothingness and the men on deck sent up a "Huzzuh!" for their Admiral. Capt. Joshua Hopkins had not been a competent, or popular, figure on the HMS Raven. Norringon holstered his pistol and with a glance and a gesture silenced the crew.

"Who is first?" James asked over Hopkins and the first Lt. Phillip Jordan walked up and presented himself smartly to his superior. Lt. Jordan seemed nervous and could not help biting his lip as his gaze slid down to Hopkins getting blood all over the deck.

"Lt. Jordan, I want this mess cleared off the deck," Norrington pointed his chin at the ruined man clutching his thigh.

"Aye-aye, Sir."

"Now, I intend to inspect your ship, but first I will see to the Raven's logs and her mission."

"Aye-aye, Sir. This way, Sir," Lt. Jordan began to turn to lead Norrington into the great cabin.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Sir?" Lt. Jordan stopped and turned, looking for a moment utterly terrified of imminent bodily harm.

"Congratulations on your promotion, you are soon to be the official Master and Commander of the Raven." Norrington smiled at Phillip Jordan as the Lt. blinked bemusedly, "We will discuss the particulars of that later, but first, the logs."

"Aye-aye, Sir," and once again Lt. Jordan lead the way. Norrington stepped over Hopkins on his way to the great cabin. Greitzer went around the ruined Capt. as two men carried him off to the surgeon and another Lt. was ordering men about to swab and holystone the deck free from the influence of Joshua Hopkins.