Disclaimer: The characters, setting, aspects of plot and anything that you recognise herein belong to Disney. Captain Anna Buckley, the Scarlet Luna and its crew belong to me, along with any unfamiliar ships, characters or plotlines.

To Spill Blood On The Moon

Chapter 1

The oceans are large expanses of water that cover certain parts of the earth. They have storms, their moods change as quick as a prostitute changes clients. But this is not entirely true. If you were to ask the right person, the right person would say that it is a canvas for life, a way to exploit freedom to find your solace on the waves. With the right ship, and the right crew, you could accomplish anything. Pirate's oath.

One rather choppy day, an innocent looking ship called the Scarlet Luna sailed into Port Royal. Perhaps the name should have given its' less than savoury inhabitants away; anyone who wished to turn the moon the colour of blood could hardly be the most polite of people. So the Harbourmaster and his assistant were rather surprised when a woman stepped off the ship. She was as female as sailors got – a light blue shirt, untucked, underneath a weathered black jacket that whipped around her knees. Her trousers were navy blue, bloodstained, and tucked into old, floppy boots that were patchy at the heels and toes. A sword was hung on a belt that was looped around her shoulder, another belt at her hips holding a pistol.

"Morning lads," she tipped her hat to the Harbourmaster and his assistant. "Just dropping by yer fine town for servicing." She went to walk on past them, but was stopped when a hand was placed on her chest. She raised an eyebrow and looked at the owner of the hand, before giving said hand a good slap. "Hands off the goods, sweet." She folded her arms over her chest and turned to face them. "What seems t' be the trouble?"

The assistant, covering a flush of embarrassment, coughed. "I'll be a needing your name before you can pass, Miss…"

"Buckley. Captain Anna Buckley." She turned and went to walk off again, this time finding a more conservative hand grasping her shoulder. "Yes?" she asked politely, removing the hand delicately from her shoulder.

The Harbourmaster grinned sickeningly at her. "What sort of…services…are you needing, Captain?"

She shrugged. "Bloodshed, rape, pillage, robbery. That sorta thing – depends on me mood, if yer must know. Now if you'll 'scuse me, gents, I'll be off." With that, she jogged off quickly before they could grab her again. She heard a shout of 'hey!' from behind her, but ignored it, carrying on down the road into the main town.

As she turned past the inn, a pickpocket attempted to snatch her purse. She slipped a dagger out from her boot and pressed it against his neck.

"My, t' hospitality is good 'ere, ain't it just? You'll be obligin' me, sweet, where would a lass like me find a blacksmith in this 'ere fine town?" She flashed him a wry smile, and twisted his arm behind his back.

He visibly gulped, and began to stutter. "Building on the right. End of t' lane. Most sorry about tryin' ter snatch yer purse, love. It's a livin', you understand?"

She snorted, shoving him against the inn, releasing her hold and tucking her dagger back in her boot. "That's Captain Anna Buckley t' yeh, sweet." She turned back into the street. "Do be good, now."

--

Will Turner stepped into the Blacksmith's that morning, tucking the keys in his back pocket and whistling as he did so. Elizabeth was back home, running some family errands before coming in to see him later that morning. The two of them had long since recovered from their run in with pirates, had forgotten – almost – about Captain Jack Sparrow, and were quite content with life in Port Royal, thank you very much. Except for that nagging feeling in the back of their minds that the sea was calling…

Will shook his head. He had to be a respectable Blacksmith now, not some pirate running off after someone else's treasure. He had a wife to look after. Of course, he knew that should he ever go to sea again, convincing Elizabeth to stay would be like getting the sun to rise at noon.

A sharp rap at the door awoke him from his thoughts.

"Coming!" he called, and put down the sword he was sharpening. Opening the door, he was greeted by a short, youngish woman dressed in pirate's attire, waving a sword about.

She grinned. "G'mornin. Be this t' Blacksmith's?"

Will nodded. "That it be, Madam. How may I be of assistance?"

She pushed past him, and into the building. "For starters, don't call me Madam. Me name is Captain Anna Buckley, and you'd do well t' remember it." She strode in and sat herself down on the nearest stool. "Second, I got a sword, seen some action of late. Little too much – tis stained like hell 'n blunt to boot. Leastways, that's what me last hostage said." She winked and offered him the sword.

He took it, parrying and thrusting with it a couple of times to adjust to the weight. "Tis a good sword, Captain. I'll have this cleaned up for you in no time." He set to washing the blade in some scaldingly hot water, while she wandered around the shop, examining the blades and machinery. She ended her trek not far from Will, who she examined carefully for a moment.

"Bootstrap!" she said suddenly, and he glanced up.

"Bootstrap Bill was my father," Will said calmly. "I'm told I bear a striking resemblance to him."

Buckley nodded, smirking. "Figures that ole Bill would 'ave a son. Yeh don't seem the pirate type, if yeh don't mind me sayin, Mr. Turner."

He grinned, remembering a conversation with an old friend. "I used to think the same, Captain. A run in with a pirate taught me otherwise. It's what's in my blood, no denying it."

"Not, of course, that that's anything to be ashamed of," said a light, female voice from the doorway. Buckley's head flicked up, but her hand ceased reaching for the pistol at her belt when she saw it was a lady. She watched Will's eyes light up and smirked. So the boy had himself a good wife. What was the world coming to? Bootstrap Bill's only child married off to some British noblewoman?

Buckley bowed to the lady, removing her hat and holding it to her chest. "A pleasure t' meet yeh, Ma'am. I be Captain Anna Buckley, of t' Scarlet Luna."

The lady curtseyed politely and smiled. "My name is Elizabeth Turner." Buckley watched as Elizabeth stared at her attire for a moment. "Pardon me for asking, Captain – but are you a pirate? It's just that I've never heard of a woman pirate before."

Buckley smiled and drew back her sleeve to show the pirate marking that she had carried since a young age. "We be few, m'dear, but we are there all t' same."

Elizabeth beamed. "Well then it is indeed a pleasure to meet you also, Captain Buckley. Are you staying long in Port Royal?"

Buckley snorted. "Not if I can 'elp it. T' less time me ship is 'arbored 'ere, t' less time I be worryin' 'bout it. Round 'ere, t' Scarlet Luna is unknown. But word travels fast, m'dear. Yeh never know what may be comin' for yeh."

"Well, should you be here for a good length of time, Captain, I would love to see your ship. I am sure she is most beautiful."

Buckley nodded. "That she is, m'dear, that she is." She turned to Will, who was now sharpening the blade of the sword. "Be that sword ready, Turner? Me crew awaits their Captain."

Will nodded. "Just a moment, and it will be finished." He pressed the tip of the sword to the stone, and examined it closely. Smiling, he handed Buckley the sword. "All done, Captain."

She nodded. "Thanks, Turner." Turning to Elizabeth, she bowed again. "Should I find meself stuck 'ere for some time, I will take yeh up on that request, m'dear." With that, Buckley sheathed her sword at her belt and turned to leave. As she reached the door, Will called to her.

"Captain Buckley? How did you know my father?"

She stopped walking, and span on her heel to face him. "Tis a long story, Turner. You got t' time to hear it?"

He frowned. "I thought you were rushing off?"

She shrugged. "Me crew'll wait. Tis a great tale, and needs t' be told. So like I says, if you got t' time…"

--

Some years earlier, a ship called the Crafty Barnacle made a deal with the Black Pearl. On a small, unchartered island, an old pirate had buried all of his treasure before he died. The two ships formed an unlikely alliance when they worked out that the Captain of the Crafty Barnacle, one Captain Robert Buckley, was the holder of the map while the Pearl's Captain, Barbossa, had the key to the treasure. They sailed alongside to the island, side by side until the moment came to unlock the underground vault that the old pirate's treasure was held in. Both crews attempted to outsmart the other, resulting in a bloody battle that killed the crew of the Barnacle (said crew not being aware that the Pearl's crew were less than mortal).

Their Captain, however, was spared. He and the Pearl's First Mate battled on the beach of the island, attempting to win the rights to the treasure. The Mate had Buckley pinned to the ground, his sword against the Captain's throat.

"Any last words, Buckley?"

The Captain coughed and spluttered, but finally regained composure enough to speak. "Now, Bootstrap…you wouldn't kill a father, would ya?" Buckley glanced back onto the boats that had bought them to shore, where a young girl dressed in pirate clothing was sat, carving a boat out of wood with a dagger.

A vision of a young boy, a golden medallion around his neck, flashed across Bootstrap's mind.

"Go," he barked, and Buckley did not have to be told twice. He escaped on the boat that the young girl was sitting in, and the two were never seen again. The Crafty Barnacle was wrecked some years later, but rebuilt by the young girl and turned into the Scarlet Luna.

The girl's name was Anna.