It was a cold night as the fog bound galleon sailed across the night sky, with the full moon shining it's silver light under them. Cold, that's how he assumed it was outside, he couldn't tell, he couldn't feel it, none of them could feel it, they never felt anything.
The Black Pearl, one of the most infamous pirate ships of the Caribbean, a legend to many, a signs of death to the majority of poor souls that ever had the misfortune of seeing the simple skull and crossbones of a jolly roger. She was a three masted hybrid between a galleon and an East Indiaman, with a black hull and tattered sails of the same colour. Armed with 32 twelve-pound, spread across with fourteen guns in the upper deck and eighteen and the gun deck, the cursed vessel had been the last sight of many pirates.
Sitting on the spacious Captain's quarter was the Black Pearl's Captain, her second Captain, the pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea, Hector Barbossa. The half Irish Englishman was of sixty years of age, though his body was ten years younger than it should be. The Caucasian man had a pair of blue eyes that had yellowed over the years, like his teeth, having brown graying hair that runed down to the base of his neck and a straggly unmaintained beard. His freckled covered face had weather over time, giving him a sinister look, not helped by the pronounced scar under his right eye.
The suit that he wore consisted of a dark brown, full breeches, a brown, double-breasted waistcoat elaborately ornamented by a pattern and a black coat fitted with buttons made from melted down Inca silver stolen from Spanish ships. He also wore brown leather swash boots and a faded light-green bandana, a once white shirt that was now dirty and grey. Over his waist there was an orange with yellow sash under a leather belt with a patinated bronze buckle and a leather baldric with a big, frame-shaped silver buckle, a small silver loop and a silver cover at the end. Finally, sitting over his head he had a black, round hat, decorated with blue ostrich feathers.
Currently the pirate was sitting on his quarters' dining table, the curtains of the rear windows wide opened, allowing for the rays of the moon to enter in, him just centimeters away from making contact with it. Barbossa sighted as he looked down at his hand, holding a half drank wine bottle. He stared at the crimson liquid in it for a few seconds before gritting his teeth, snarling and tossing the bottle to the other side of the room.
One again he looked at his hand, it now under the silver light of the man. His hand had all flesh and blood stripped away, bare to the bone, his fine sleeve now little more than a tattered rag. His eyes sharpened as he clenched his hand into a fist, his boney fingered creaking with every movement.
How had everything gone so wrong for him? Why did he even bother asking, he knew how the living hell him and his crew suffered every day had started, it all began with a mutiny.
"Captain Sparrow." First mate, Hector Barbossa gave a small bow with his hat. "If I be so bold, how be our voyage?"
"Ah, Hector." Captain Jack Sparrow greeted, an onion bottle of rum on his left hand. "Our enterprise to the Isla de Muerta is all going to accord. Have the alleged curse of the alleged treasure of Cortez on the alleged island of death frighten you yet, my First Mate?"
Barbossa swinged a hand in the air, a dismissive look on his face. "As I told you before, my dea' Captain, that be nothin' more than childish superstition told by a couple drunken sailors."
"Well, Hector, I've seen my fair share of stories told by drunken sailor become a reality that later tries to stab me with their sword." Jack said, swinging his blue wooden compass on his left hand. "How be the crew of this fine ship?"
"The men be as eve' loyal, Captain." Barbossa explained. "But I be noticin' lately some turmoil among the more doubtful sea rats, for two days we be seeing nothin' but open ocean and they be believin' that we are sailin' wi' out a headin'."
"Is that so?" The raven haired man said, leaning forward on his desk. "Have the men lost faith so quickly?"
"We be lookin' for an island than cannot be found unless except by those who already know where it is, says the tale." Barbossa explained. "And the men have been on edge of afte' we searched fo' the Shadow Gold.
"Those cack-handed apes been askin' me to ask ou' beloved Captain Jack for the charts to the Island, to reassure them that we be not wastin' rum and food for no good reason." He pointed a hand to the Captain. "We have charts, do we not?"
Captain Sparrow leaned down on his chair, clapping both of his hands together. "Charts? We do have charts, Mr. Barbossa, I have a map. A map with the estimated location of the island, estimated be right word. We're less than a week from the Isla de Muerta, according to his nice piece of cloth, but I wont be puttin' any lies on your ears to hear, I've been havin' trouble estimate the precise location of the island with Cortez' treasure."
Barbossa smirked, pointing a hand at himself. "Let me have a peek at the map, Captain. My father was a cartographer, and he passed down some of his map reading skills to this humble pirate. And with that I can also reassure the men we have a direction set in stone."
The pirate Captain remained in silence for a few moments before reaching down for a drawer on his desk, opening it and pulling out a piece of wrapped up, dirty with cloth hold together with a dark blue string. Sparrow smiled as he placed the map on top of his desk. "You have a piece of gold of a point, my First Mate. If what you say be true, and I see no reason for otherwise, this will get us quicke' to the Isla de Muerta, if I can't trust my First Mate with the location of our treasure, what says of me as a Captain."
Barbossa smiled. "My biggest thanks, Captain, and I'm more than honored for be havin' yer trust."
Again, he gave a small bow with his hat before exiting the Captain's quarters, exiting out to be received by the golden light of the setting sun on his face. In front of him he could many of the crew members sweeping down the deck and doing other kind of menial works. Turning to the right, he saw the Black Pearl's bo'sun standing by one of the staircases that lead to the upper deck.
He was a tall and broad man of African origin, with brown coloured eyes and completely shaven head. Around his eyes and in hist exposed chest he had ritualistic body scarring. He wore little clothing expect for a pair of dirty white pants, black buccaneer boots and a brown leather belt across his chest that held his cutlass' sheath. Interestingly enough, none of them knew his true name, he only had ever referred himself as Bo'sun, even before acquiring that position aboard the Black Pearl.
"It's happening, Bo'sun." Barbossa said, his face darkening. "When the last light of day falls down, everyone be in the crew quarters, pistols and cutlass at a ready."
Bo'sun chuckled. "That will be highly unnecessary."
"Be it as it may, that man's a trickster, you never know what he may hide under his sleeve."
The tall, muscular man nodded. "Aye."
As Bo'sun left, Barbossa unfolded the map while he headed up to the ships' wheel, while he lied to Sparrow about his father's profession, he spoke truthfully about his map reading skills. "This will be easy,"
Minutes after the bright sun had descended down into the sea and the silver moon had taken it's place, the crew of the Black Pearl gathered around their hammocks, all of them in front of Barbossa, who sat down in an empty crate behind a barrel he was using a table, on top of it there was a candle they had lighten up. As the men set themselves in place, the half Irish pirate looked around the gun deck, recognizing a lot of the ugly faces, many of whom had come with him when Jack had recruited him to be a part of his crew.
Koehler, he was a dark skinned man from Jamaica, his black hair tied in dreadlock.
Twigg, an English man around forty years of age, he had long brown hair under a yellow bandana and unmaintained beard.
Jacoby, a tan skinned man with little to no hair under his red cap but compensated with a chest length black beard tied with canon fuses and a golden piercing on his nose. Over the years Barbossa had know him, the man had shown a particular fondness for hand grenades.
Mallot and grapple, as their uncreative nicknames said, the two men would wield a cooper's mallot and grappling hook respectively into battle, the former had neck length brown hair under a black tricorn hat, while the former had black balding hair.
Abner Pintel and Terry Ragetti, out everyone present, he knew those two idiots for the longest time, both of them had served aboard a schooner he had once captained, called the Cobra, they had save him from drowning when it had sunken down. Pintel was a short, fat and balding man of English descent. Ragetti was the former's nephew, actually. The dirty blonde was the opacite of his uncle, he was tall and skinny, and only had one blue eye as his right eye was missing, being replaced by a small wooden ball, Barbossa's piece of eight.
There were other he knew the name of, like Scratch or Dog Ear, but one man that he had his eyes focused on was a young man that he had never sailed before, Bill Turner was his name, but everyone called him Bootstrap. Bootstrap has joined them in their quest for the Shadow Gold, and from what he could tell he had shown some likeness to Captain Sparrow. He didn't trust, exactly why he invited him here, Turner was a reserved man, the only thing they knew about him was that he was married and had a son. He'd hate to widow a woman.
"Alright, gents." Barbossa said, speaking in a loud enough voice the all the men around him would hear, but not high enough to attract the attention of their Captain. "Many of you know why be gathering under discretion of our 'Captain', many other will have why and few will be clueless as to why. Men, it's time to discuss the problem at hand that's been troubling us for weeks: our dear Captain, Jack Sparrow."
"What about him?" Bootstrap spoke up, raising an eyebrow. "Captain Jack always been good to us."
Twigg snorted. "You can't be that blind, Turne', even Ragetti can tell easily what be the problem."
"Oi! I recent that." Ragetti said, looking with his wooden eye at Twigg, while the good one looked at the pole he was leaning against.
"And the Captain has been letting most ships we see just pass by." Jacoby said. "So much for we pillage and plunder and rifle and loot."
"And we haven't done any real pirating in weeks." Koehler added, getting a lot of nods and yeahs from the crew all around them. "Just goin' around treasure huntin' with little pay back."
"Aye, don't help that we've had the East India Trading Company on our backs lately." Mallot said.
"Aye." The crew members all agreed.
Barbossa raised a hand towards Bootstrap Bill Turner. "Ya see, Bootstrap? The men all around agree that the leadership of Mr. Sparrow has been poorly as of late. Empty pockets and sore backs be somethin' that we shouldn't endure no more."
"Aye." The word was spoken by nearly all of crew again.
Bootstrap crossed his arms, giving a glance back to the staircase to the upper deck before returning his gaze onto the pirate with the big round hat. "And what be you suggesting we do, Barbossa."
The half Irish chuckled before standing up. "Well, well, Mr. Turner, what I be simply suggestin' that we adhere ourselves to the code."
Bootstrap snorted. "I remember hearin' you sayin' more than once that code were more like guidelines than actual rules."
"Guidelines that I am more than inclined to follow to their fullest extent due to our current predicament." He smiled before reaching for something under the barrel, a small bucket full of sticks. The pirate then took them all out and laying it next to the becket above the barrel. "Gent, I've tried persuadin' Sparrow, time and time again, with little to no results. I tried my best, tried I did, but it be time for some change of manegemnet on this fine vessel."
"Mutiny?" Pintel asked, getting an eye roll from the man.
"No, Mr. Pintel, I just say we cordially go to Captain Sparrow's quarters and mannerly ask him to leave his position as Captain."
Grapple took a step forward. "And who would be this new Captain to replace Sparrow? You?"
"Men, I've sailed with many of you before we crewed the Black Pearl. And to those who I've met on our many voyages on this black hulled ship have what my capabilities be." Barbossa began. "There be a reason I am the First Mate aboard this Ship.
"Gents, if you choose me to be your Captain, I'll guarantee you how much we shall rise from this miserably attempt of piracy, I guarantee you that we will become the richest pirates of the Caribbean. We have no reason to have Sparrow as Captain no more, he has given me the location of the Isla de Muerta and we shall have the treasure of Cortez on our hands soon enough. If any of you consider themselves a good pirate put a stick on the bucket, a vote for me as Captain. Gent, I promise you, under my captaincy we'll become the most powerful pirate crew that their ever be, caves full of gold and jewels will be ours!"
"Aye!" The men said as they began to reach for the sticks and put them on the buckets.
"Aye, it be time for some change." Bo'sun said, taking a stick and tossing it into the bucket.
Jacoby followed up. "Twice to that."
"Hey, Twigg." Koehler said, getting his friend's attention. "Are ya gonna pick one of those twigs or jump in you self?"
"Maybe I'll just cut one of your dreadlock to use." Twigg said, both of them putting their respective sticks on the bucket.
The minutes passed by as the more doubtful crew members took their time thinking their decision before relenting in and tossing their vote for Barbossa. Nearly all of them had already made up their decision, all except for one.
"What be you waiting for, Turner?" Barbossa asked.
"Considering my choices." He simply said.
"Considering yer choices?" Mallot said, rising his cooper's mallot and placing across his shoulders. "Yer choises are pretty cut and dry me fellow pirate."
"Aye." Grapple said, slowly swinging his rusty grappling hook. "Yer not considerin' standin' for Cap'n Jack, now are ya?"
Bootsrap looked around the gun deck, noticing that many of his fellow crew members eyes were drawn upon him, their hands calmly resting on the grips of their flintlocks and swords. Soon enough, he was the only one who had yet to vote, all the sticks had been placed back on the bucket except for his'. He like Jack, he found him to be a good Captain. But his opinion mattered not, he was outnumbered and no matter what he tried, there was no way to help Jack. However he liked the man, he himself was a man of the code, and the Pirata codex detected him to side with the crew.
He closed his eyes for a moment before tossing his stick into the bucket, now everyone had voted.
Captain Hector Barbossa smiled. "Good, ya finally come back to yer senses.
"Now, at arms men, we have a stowaway aboard ma ship, and I want him do be dealt with immediately!"
Bootstrap Bill Turner stood quietly under the shadows, observing as former Captain Jack Sparrow was dragged out of the Captain's quarters by Bo'sun into the main deck, forcing him to the starboard side of the Pearl, where Barbossa awaited with the rest of his trusted crewmembers: Kohler, Twigg and Jacoby.
"Barbossa!" Jack sparrow said. "What be the meaning of this behavior, have all of you taken to much of a sip of rum, I am Captain Jack Sparrow, not Jack the cabin boy or Jack the Helmsmen, Captain."
Barbossa shook his head. "No more, Jack, that title has come to an end for ya I'm afraid.
"After recent events, it has been presented to our ears that we are in need of new leadership, a new Captain, my humble persona."
Jack eyes narrowed down on Barbossa as he tried to break free from Bo'sun's grip. "Mutiny? You traitorous sea rut."
"Nay, Jack, just a humble pirate in search for the riches of life, of which you have failed to provide." Barbossa stated, then pointing a finger to his right. Sparrow followed his direction to see an island, if it could even be called that as it was nothing more than a patch of sand above sea, with a couple dozen palm trees on it. "Ya see that island, Jack, good news fer ya, you've just become it's governo'."
Most of the crew burst out into fits of laughter as jack starred at the barely visible island through the darkness of the night. He then saw how the crew placed down a wooden plank on the edge, himself being pushed towards it, before he was let go, all of the crew men now pointing their pistols and cutlasses at him.
"Jack, Jack, Jack, I'll assume that your are more then aware of the classic of marooning a man." Barbossa rhetorically asked.
"Aye, and what you are supposed to give me." He simply said.
"Aye." Barbossa then took out a flintlock hanging on his sash. It was .50 English pistol, constructed of a wooden frame with a metal barrel, firing mechanism, and trigger. "One pistol."
He tossed him the pistol, alongside a small yellowish bag that was closed up. "One shot. You might not want to get that wet.
"Now, Jack, will you be a good pirate and walk the plank or do I have to ask Bo'sun here to push you out?"
Jack slowly walked the across the wooden board before quickly turning his gate on to the Pear's new Captain. "Remember this, Hector, I will come back for my beloved Pearl and with this one shot you mangy sea rat, I'll put a bullet on your heart."
Barbossa chuckled, giving him an amused look and taking out another pistol, pointing it at the former Captain. "Sure you will, now, off ma ship."
Jack Sparrow didn't wait to be shot, jumping off the plank with a cry, much to the crews' amusement. All of them waited until they saw the Sparrow swim up to the shore of the island, looking at the verily visible man through their respective spy glass.
"Alright, gents, show's ove'." Captain Barbossa commanded. "Everyone at their stations, the treasure of Cortez await us all!"
"Aye, Aye, Captain." The crewmen said, following the half Irish's orders.
Barbossa chuckled as he headed to the Captain's quarters, his quarters. The man looked down at his pocket, taking out a well looking, green apple, so sweet and so juicy. It was a delicacy for his triumph, a prize for his victory over the Sparrow. The newfound Captain took a deep bite on the apple, enjoying it as English and French nobles enjoyed ice cream.
He loved being a pirate.
"Captain." Jacoby said. "Is this Isla de Muerta?"
"Nay, Jacoby." Barbossa said, looking around the island they were in, Twigg, Kohler and some of the men steadied the boat on shore. "But we be close from there, less than a day. We be here as my stash of apple has runed short and I am in need of a resupply."
"Get out of here, rat!" Both men heard Koehler shout from behind. Turning around, they saw a small monkey on top of the longboat, it holding on one of his paws Twigg's knife, swing it whenever someone tried to get closer.
"Give me back me knife, rat!" Twigg demanded, then taking out a pistol from his sash, pointing it at the monkey. "Or else!"
Barbossa walked towards the man, snatching the pistol off his grip. "Let me handle this, Master Twigg."
The half Irish man slowly and calmy took a step towards the monkey, who tried to swing the knife at him. "Hey, hey, take it there, buddy, we be meanin' ya now harm. Would ya like a treat?" He pulled a peanut from his coat's pocket.
This captivated the monkey's attention, who cautiously extended a paw towards the peanut, quickly snatching it from Barbossa and putting it on his mouth. The monkey chippered after eating the small treat, dropping the knife into the longboat.
"Ya liked it, boy?" Barbossa asked. "Want another one?"
The pirate took another peanut from his pocket and giving it to the monkey, who took it with more trust. Barbossa then slowly and gently placed a hand on top of his small head as he ate the peanut, petting him, much to the furry animal's delight. To the Captain's surprise, after finishing another peanut, the monkey climbed across his arm until he reaches his shoulder, wear he took a seat on.
"He seems to be linkin' you, Cap'n." Jacoby said.
"Aye, I think I'll be keeping him." Captain Barbossa said, petting him on the head.
"Wach ya callin' him?'
"I think I have an idea." He smirked. "I think we should call him Jack, what do ya thinks, boys?"
All of them chuckled, Jack the monkey joining them on their fit of laughter.