The Makings of a Pirate, by Hellborne

Pirates of the Caribbean

Copyright: Characters, not mine, See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.

Typing convention. / is used for thoughts.

Summary: Jack Sparrow seems to be waging a personal war on slavery. Elizabeth and Will want to know WHY.

BETA: Pendragginink I love you! You are the greatest!!!!! I really can't say enough wonderful things about you!

A/N: Feed the plot bunnies or they'll starve...and I won't write anything else.

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Chapter 2 - The Price of Success

Pintel watched as Jack very carefully measured a tiny bit of gunpowder into his pistol and loaded it. He noticed that it was far too little powder to use in a fight; barely enough, in fact, to get the ball out of the barrel. He wondered why Commodore Sparrow had called for him, unless he didn't like the food that Ragetti and he were cooking for him. But it couldn't be that, as the plates they brought him were always brought back empty or near enough.

Jack took off his jacket and vest, put them down on the chair, and stood in front of Pintel. "I need a favor, Mr. Pintel. Firstly, I need to practice me swordsmanship. Now I know you are not an expert, but this will give you more experience and me some exercise. On your guard."

Pintel pulled his sword and tried to fight against Sparrow. Although he was no slouch, he was no match for the Commodore, but Jack seemed to be holding back. Pintel stayed on the defensive till Jack started talking.

"Then the men were right, you limp-wristed poof. Ragetti makes a lovely wife for ye!"

"That's none of your business, Commodore, even if it were true, which it's not." Pintel lunged while Sparrow dodged sideways and INTO the blade, letting it drag across his chest. Pintel stopped abruptly.

Sparrow continued, appearing to be annoyed, hands on hips, tapping his foot. "Why did you stop? I want you to continue." He paused, thinking. "Or would you rather I dropped the both of you off at your mum's house for some cookies?"

Pintel's blood boiled. He drove hard with his sword toward Jack. Jack deftly jumped into it, lacerating his side. "Good form, but you'll have to aim better. Keep going."

Now Pintel was REALLY confused. "Commodore, are you TRYING to get yourself killed?"

Jack considered it. "Almost...ALMOST killed. Aye, I believe I am. Now don't stop. These little scratches will never do."

Pintel scratched his head. "And you trust me not to kill you, after what we did to you when we were with Captain Barbossa?"

Jack didn't hesitate. "Mr. Pintel, you and your partner are loyal to the hand that feeds you. I knew it at once when I signed you on years ago. When Barbossa had that hand, you were loyal to him. Now you are loyal to me. But not loyal enough to refuse to hurt me if that were my wishes. Well it is, so let's go about hurtin' me."

Pintel shrugged and brought his sword up. He slashed a few more times, going through the shirt and hitting their mark. Jack didn't seem to be defending so much as guiding Pintel's sword to where he wanted to be hit. He lunged, and Jack turned slightly, diving into it hard. The sword went through his right shoulder and out the back, making Jack drop his sword and cry out, "Stop! Tha's enough!"

Pintel cleaned his sword, put it away and waited for the Commodore's orders, which were not long in coming.

Jack shook his head to chase the pain away. "Good job...good job. Now, Edward Pintel, I want you to box with me."

"But with your right arm unusable you can't defend yerself properly."

"But I won't be defending meself at all. Tha's the point. And don't hold back, Edward. If you do, I shall have you flogged, eh?" Jack smiled.

Pintel took a chance that his Commodore was serious (although completely out of his mind as far as he was concerned), and punched him in the left shoulder.

"Harder. Leave marks. Or are you a little girl like that slap implies?"

He shrugged and lit into Jack, punching him over and over again all over his chest, arms and stomach. Jack didn't defend at all, but just stood there, brows knitted in concentration.

After a few minutes, the door opened, and one of the men walked in with Jack's dinner. He saw Pintel punching at Jack and pulled his gun. "Stand clear, Pintel, and surrender!"

Jack put up his left hand. "Mr. Lister, hold yer fire. This is under my orders, and I would be much obliged if you left and did not inform the crew of any of this. I shall be out in a little while to explain everything." He sounded like he was a little out of breath, but fine nevertheless. Lister left, closing the door behind him.

Jack retrieved his gun from the table, handed it to Pintel and backed up to be eight feet away from him. "Mr. Pintel, I order you to fire that gun on me flat in the chest. Right here." He pointed to the middle of his chest.

"But sir, you said you did NOT want me to kill you."

"You won't. Now aim true and fire."

Pintel did as he was commanded, and the ball went right into Jack's chest, knocking him to the deck, landing on his right arm and twisting his ankle, eyes closed and breathing hard, his face contorted with pain. The report from the gun was enough that the entire crew came running. He ran over to his Commodore, tore open the shirt and looked at it just as they rushed in.

Jack's eyes fluttered open. "I think I put a little too much powder in it. That HURT!" He looked at the crew at the door. "Leave us alone. I'll be out in a moment."

Pintel was busy apologizing, but Jack stopped him. "You shot me under me own orders, Edward. There's no dishonor. No mutiny. You're going to be a hero to this crew by the time we're done with this. Consider yourself my first mate for the trip, eh?" He got up slowly and limped out the door.

- -

Aboard the Neptune's Folly, Will's worries about the gunshot that he had heard festered over the next two days. Finally, he went to the cabin that he shared with Captain Lizzy. He opened the door quietly, so as not to disturb her sleep. Surprisingly, she was wide awake, sitting at her desk, pouring over a book and some maps. "Lizzy, why are you not sleeping? You need to be at your best tomorrow. I don't fancy being crushed between the ships just because you had to yawn at the helm."

"Oh Will. There's plenty of time for sleep. I'm just so curious about Jack's 'home.' I've found the location on the map, but it brings us back to Jamaica."

"What? Back to Port Royal?"

"No, but close enough that the navy should be able to smell it. Montego Bay has never been known for harboring pirates."

"Montego Bay? I thought his 'home' would have been a deserted island or someplace near Tortuga. That has always seemed to be his favorite town. In fact, he told me that the first time he brought me there on the way to rescue you from Barbossa."

"No, the coordinates are right at the pier at Montego Bay. Will, there has been royalty living there for the last eight years. I happen to KNOW that the Earl would never allow it. He'll send word by the swiftest messenger to the navy for protection the instant Jack pulls into port!"

"Well, there's nothing we can do till Jack gets there. Hopefully we are able to talk him into leaving before the navy arrives. Although, with the Dauntless on OUR side, I think the navy will think twice before attacking." Will fell silent, thinking about something.

Lizzy cocked her head. "Will, you didn't come in here to talk about Jack's home, did you?"

"Oh!" Will seemed to remember something, and he frowned. "No, actually it's about something that happened aboard the Pearl as we were leaving. I heard gunfire over there, but since there was only one shot and I didn't see a lot of activity, I didn't mention it."

Lizzy looked angry and distressed. "Will, if you EVER keep something like that away from me again I shall have you flogged no matter how much I love you! There are so many new crewmen over there that who knows what has happened! And now it's too late to go back and find out. Well, when you get aboard the Dauntless, find out what you can from the Pearl crew that is staying with you. Tell them that I order them to tell you!" She yawned. "Now I guess you're right. Let's get some sleep. Mr. Cotton's parrot will let us know if Cotton sees anything."

- -

Just after the sun went down on the third day, the call came down from the crow's nest. Two ships had been sighted: The Dauntless, and a ship near her length, but a bit wider. Jack called All Hands. The Pearl's sails unfurled, and her anchor raised. The wind was ideal. She began to sail headlong into the tacking ships, and half a dozen men began swabbing the deck with fresh goats' blood.

- -

Commodore Norrington watched through his spyglass as the Black Pearl approached. He watched her helm closely; watched as Jack Sparrow sat on a barrel behind the helm and shouted at the Pearl's crew. The Black Pearl appeared to be lacking men and was moving sluggishly. He called general quarters, and 250 marines crowded themselves on deck, ready to repel boarders and to board the pirate ship. As the Pearl drew near, a white flag ran up its mast. James Norrington was an honorable man. He would not fire first against a white flag of truce. Jack Sparrow, however, was NOT an honorable man. The Commodore would NOT lower his guard.

As the Black Pearl drew up, he noticed that almost all of the crew looked injured, Jack included. His right arm was in a sling, and there was a good amount of blood on the front of his shirt. He was favoring his right leg and trying not to be obvious about it. His crew was not in much better condition, and many were lying on deck, barely moving. There was blood everywhere. The few uninjured crewmembers were doing all of the work. /Maybe he IS serious about that flag,/ Norrington thought.

When the ships were within range, a single longboat lowered from the Pearl, and two figures rowed slowly to the Dauntless. Jack looked like he had seen better days, though Pintel, who was with him, looked unharmed save for some blood on his clothes, apparently from dressing wounds. Norrington ordered Murtog and Mullroy to help lift Jack onto the deck of the Dauntless, where he struggled to keep himself standing straight, but slapping away anyone who tried to help him stand, Pintel included.

"Captain Jack Sparrow. What brings you to the British navy for help? Attack the wrong ship, perhaps?"

"Commodore." Jack tipped his head slightly, almost falling from the effort. His next words sounded rehearsed and forced. He obviously was not happy about reciting them. "Commodore Norrington. Though it pains me considerably to succumb to request aid by the likes of you, my ship was attacked by a new threat in the area. She ran the red flag against us. What I am sure you can see on my deck from here, are the only survivors of the attack. We sank the blighters, but they killed most of my men, those wot knew doctorin' included. Me mate and me," nodding slightly to the man with him, "have done our best, but my crew needs proper doctorin'. I beg you to help us by sendin' your doctor over with as many guards as you like. We be too weak t' fight ye anyway."

"Sparrow, the ONLY reason that I would deign to tend your men's injuries would be to see you all hang. Have you not the brains to see that?"

Jack sighed. "Commodore, I have lost most of my crew to that cur. They attacked us three days ago, and I can barely keep meself upright with help now, and it's getting' worse. The rudder needs replacin', and each day we lose another 10 men or more. The noose is a quicker and less painful way to die. I almost wish they had sunk us, but their captain wanted my Pearl. Heal and hang us, or send us to the bottom, the choice is yours."

As Jack spoke, there were splashes in the water from the Pearl. Twelve men had been dumped overboard, and were floating away from the Pearl with the current. Norrington was convinced that Jack was telling the truth.

"Gillette! We need the doctor and anyone who has experience with injuries over to the Black Pearl. Take marines with you to protect them. If any of those pirates so much as LOOKS at a weapon, kill them all." He turned to Jack.

Jack brought his hands together in thanks, the effect being ruined by his falling to his knees, gasping, but the Commodore understood it. He personally helped Jack to his feet, noticing that Jack's right hand hung at an odd angle, probably broken. Jack coughed, the effort seeming to wrack his body. "Thank you," he whispered, trying to stand.

The Dauntless maneuvered a little closer to the Pearl, grappled her, and planks were run out between the two ships. The first aid crew and a hundred and fifty marines scrambled to the Pearl. Everyone watched the Pearl with baited breath. Nobody noticed that the "bodies" which had been thrown overboard, were now on the other side of the Dauntless, climbing aboard to slit the throats of the deck watch, nor the two smaller ships sailing silently behind both the slaver and the Dauntless.

Norrington ordered that Jack should be taken to his own quarters. He followed, since he was now the only one still on board who could dress injuries with any skill.

They laid Jack on the Commodore's bed, removing his shirt as they went. Murtogg and Mulroy were impressed by the pure stamina that the pirate must have. His entire chest and arms were almost solid bruises. He had various cuts and slashes on his chest and abdomen, several deep sword wounds, one completely through his shoulder, and a rather serious looking bullet hole in his chest.

Norrington looked at the pirate and shook his head. "Captain Sparrow, this will hurt quite a bit. Would you like something to help you ignore it?"

"No," was the barely whispered response.

Norrington's eyebrows raised. "No rum? Sparrow, this is going to hurt quite a bit. Even I would accept it under the circumstances."

"Just get on with it."

The Commodore examined the pirate's chest wound first. There was a very ugly, yellow and red scab on the wound. "Jack, I'm going to try to remove the ball from your chest, but it looks to be embedded fairly deeply. You're lucky though. It's in your breastbone. One inch to either side and you would probably be dead. Now hold as still as you can." After cutting the scab off and wiping the blood and slime away, he took a pair of pliers from his desk drawer and tried to get the tips around the ball in order to pull it out. It didn't work.

Jack didn't make a sound, staring straight at the ceiling, brows knitted in concentration. Norrington was impressed. "Sparrow, I need to pry it out with a knife. Prepare yourself. Let me know if you want some rum." He took a knife from his desk and tried to wedge it below the ball. The only reaction Jack gave him was that his face began sweating from the obvious pain he must be in. However, he didn't show that pain in the expression on his face. After a minute or two of prying, the ball sprang free, hitting the wall from the pressure needed to release it. He staunched the blood that started flowing freely, and held the rag to the wound.

Jack grunted, his breathing ragged, closing his eyes to relax the pain away.

Norrington waited until the pirate opened his eyes again. He didn't want to add more pain than he had to. Although Jack was his adversary, he had shown great courage and stamina, and the Commodore had to respect him for that.

Almost a minute later, Jack's breathing normalized, and he opened his eyes. He said softly, "Go ahead and clean it. I know that you were waitin' for me and I thank ye."

Norrington poured brandy on the wound. Jack's head pushed into the bed, closing his eyes, his teeth clenched, grabbing the sheets in his left fist, but no sound escaped him. As the Commodore began to put bandages around his chest, there was a loud cannon blast, followed by a lot of yelling and shooting.

Murtogg and Mullroy ran out to see what was happening, and Norrington glanced momentarily at the door. When he glanced back, he found Jack sitting up with a pistol in his left hand pointed at Norrington's face. Jack was grinning like a fox, though slouching from his obvious pain. "I'm afraid we shall have to call off this little party, Commodore. Now, if you will be so kind, come with me and be ready to order your men to drop their weapons. That cannon blast signaled that the slaver ship has been taken and her crew is dead."

Norrington looked very surprised. "How? Had anyone from your ship moved, we would have opened fire."

Jack's eyes twinkled. "Well, let us just say that you are not the ONLY Commodore in these waters. Now move back and no sudden moves. Drop all of your weapons.

Norrington complied, fuming. "I'll see you hang, Sparrow."

"Not today, mate. And it's COMMODORE Sparrow t'you, Jimboy. Now let us go and save the lives of wot's left of your men"

They made their way to the door, Norrington in front. Jack kept the pistol cocked at the side of the naval officer's head below the jaw line. They reached the door, and Norrington saw that at least half of his marines were already dead, yet less than a dozen pirates lay with them. There were pirates all over his deck, and his men were still dropping like flies. Jack nudged the Commodore up the steps to the quarterdeck and rang the ship's bell three times. The men stopped fighting in a frozen tableau. He pushed the gun further into Norrington's neck. "Tell your men to stand down, mate," he whispered.

Norrington yelled, "Men, stand down!" The soldiers dropped their weapons, which the pirates collected, ushering the navy men to the Pearl where they were met by more pirates.

Jack lowered his gun as Pintel came forward to handle Norrington. Jack noticed the look of horror on Norrington's face. "Don't worry, Commodore. Your men will be dropped off unharmed at an English owned port."

As they walked into the moonlight, Norrington barely saw the extra ship pulling away from the side opposite to the Black Pearl. When he looked around, he noticed Will Turner at the helm of the Dauntless. The slaver ship had already disappeared into the night. Pintel took hold of his arm. "C'mon, mate. We have a nice, cozy place for ye on the Pearl."

Norrington stopped and looked at Jack. "One question...Commodore."

"Aye?"

"How did you REALLY get those injuries?"

Pintel grinned wolfishly. "Tha' would be me, Commodore." He grabbed Norrington's right arm, Ragetti strode up and grabbing his left, and together they forced him over one of the planks between the two ships.

All of the pirates cheered. His adrenalin rush gone, Jack dropped to the deck, unconscious.

- -

TBC

A/N: Hey, don't forget to feed the plot bunnies by hitting the REVIEW button on your way out!