A/N: I still own nothing. All I have are the snickerdoodles and the Jack Sparrow plushie. Sorry this took so long in getting out, guys- Jack didn't want to talk to me. ;) Every time I tried to write his accent, I kept getting Aussie instead of Drunk Pirate and he kept sounding too corny. Writing is a lot like standardized testing- if you get stuck, skip the section you're having issues with and go directly to the next question or paragraph. After many visits to the official website to listen to clips, I finally decided he was in character enough to still be recognizable as Jack Sparrow. So here it is, enjoy!

Chapter One: The Pawn

Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl was doing one of his favorite things besides seeing Tortuga lasses and drinking rum; he was on the open water on his own boat with a loyal crew. The only thing that could ruin a perfectly good morning such as this was the merciless Caribbean sun that beat down upon them, trying to fry them like eggs from the inside out. We're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs, Jack thought to himself with a grin. If His Majesty's Royal Navy can't hang us, and other pirates can't outfight us, then they'll all just have to let the sun bake us. "I'll never tire of that song," Jack told himself quietly, swaying partly from the waves and partly from rum. As he hummed a few more bars, he spotted something large in the water far ahead of them. "Mr. Gibbs," he called, "pray tell, is that a ship ahead?" Gibbs appeared next to him with a spyglass in hand. As he looked out toward the ship, he smiled. "Cap'n, merchant ship on the horizon dead ahead." Jack turned toward his first mate and he wore a rather cheery looking smirk. "Prepare to rob, pillage, plunder, and do whatever we do best, Mr. Gibbs."

            "Aye aye, sir." Gibbs began giving commands to prepare to board to all the hands that were available.

This day was already starting out good.

In stark contrast to the freedom felt by Jack Sparrow, Charles Ross sat in his cabin, feeling like a prisoner on his own ship. According to Everlin's plan, all he had to do was sit here and write. So far all he had written was the date and a few flourishes around it. Dipping the pen nub into the ink pot, he began matter-of-factly, just as he did when he was really keeping a captain's log.

            7 August, 1756 Anno Domini

                                    I have decided against taking the longer route to Nassau Port via the Caymans and the Strait of Florida for the swifter, even                                               more dangerous route through the Windward Passage near Hispaniola and Tortuga (the dangerous port known for pirates and                            other unsavory characters.) This was a difficult course to chart, as the Strait of Florida offers storms and many captains fall prey                                     to these wild winds and then to poor navigation and Tortuga offers pirates and smugglers roaming the waters like a swarm of                                       bees. Whatever happens, I shall take full responsibility for whatever may lie ahead for us.

            Capt. C. Ross

Rather dissatisfied, Ross put down his quill and sighed. This kind of subterfuge was not in his blood. He had never fancied himself a clever fellow, but here he was, helping to fool an unwitting public and to draw out a dangerous outlaw. In short, he was playing the patsy. Without warning one of the "loyal associates" of Everlin burst into his cabin, packing pistols into his sash. "We've been spotted by pirates. You need to come up deck at once." Ross rose and strapped on his sword and picked up his own pistol. This was a toss up between an actual pirate attack or a strategic mutiny. As he rushed up to the poop deck of the Fleet Runner, Ross saw that it was indeed a legitimate pirate attack. A ship with black sails was no more than 100 feet away from them, and Ross could make out the name of the ship quite clearly: Black Pearl.

The crew of the Fleet Runner, five of Everlin's cronies, made their way to the powder room and set fuses near each of the powder kegs. The fuses were long, which gave them approximately fifteen minutes until the ship blew. They loaded the ship's cannons with all the shot they could find and set the cannons toward the Black Pearl. "Fire!" one cried as the cannon shot its weapon and recoiled back. The shot sailed across the small expanse of sea between the two and landed two meters from the Pearl. On deck, Jack was not pleased. "Just because of that, I'm thinking about not giving any quarter, Mr. Gibbs. What say you?"

            "Find the dog who shot it, and no mercy to him, cap'n."

            "I shall take that suggestion. I wouldn't wanna add 'Murder of Innocents' to my rather long list of charges." Jack swaggered off for his effects, adding, "B'sides, their gunner or the mate is a poor shot." Onboard the Fleet Runner, Captain Ross felt a wave of terror go through him. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was only supposed to say that I had run into the Black Pearl, not actually run into her! What have I done to myself? Gathering any and all courage he had left in him, he gathered his pistol and ceremonial sword and ran up deck to confront the pirates. The crew had beaten him to the fighting with the cannons that had so annoyed Jack Sparrow, a rather bad move in the eyes of Ross. "Men!" the captain of the doomed ship called as loud as he could, "Cease firing at once! Give them any cargo we have and let each ship be about its different way!" With those words, five sailors ran back up to the captain. "Let's simply fight them to the death," one yelled. "We've got swords, shot, and pistols! We'll attack 'em when they board, mates!" Ross drew out his pistol from his sash. "Any man who touches any weapon with the express purpose of disobeying my orders will be charged with mutiny! They have the benefit of numbers, weaponry, and higher speeds. We shall honorably surrender to a more powerful foe!" The same sailor who had lit the cannon surged forward and knocked the pistol out of Ross's hand. "Hang your surrender! This ship's goin' down, and we aren't staying to be captured by pirates or blown up by our own powder." He suddenly laughed cruelly. "You pathetic patsy! That pistol's not even loaded! We took all the pistol shot off before we set sail. Couldn't risk ya doing anything stupid, mate, like trying to escape and go back. Do you know how much this ship is insured at Lloyd's for? And with the sudden death of a 'loyal captain' at the hands of lawless pirates, the entire British Empire will be clamoring for the hangins' to start. Go be a good captain- die honorably." He turned back to the other hands. "To the ship, mates." The five traitors ran to the only lifeboat with all the weapons but one pistol, one sword, and useless cannons. Fear gnawed at Ross's insides. I'm going to die, he told himself. I'm going to die and I will never be avenged. My family will sink into poverty and they will all die alone and poor. Tears welling in his eyes, Ross headed for the helm and decided, at least, to let the pirates say that when he had gone down, he had gone down as a captain.

Jack Sparrow drew a sword from the Pearl's armory and tested it with a hair. Razor sharp. He slid it carefully through his sash and loaded his pistol. He didn't really expect a fight- there rarely was one. But just in case. "Mr. Gibbs," he called to his first mate, "are we ready?"

            "Aye."

            "Good. Let's earn our keep."

Ross had heard the rumors about the pirates, everyone had. But a bulge had formed in his throat. He was afraid of dying. As he stood at the helm, he too tested his sword with a hair. But his hand trembled. I'm not a warrior. I'm just someone's cover. A thunk sounded, the boarding plank being dropped. It's my time.