Disclaimer: If you believe I actually own any of the rights to Ghost Ship, you're stupider than I am. If so, congrats on your world record.

A/N: I'm having so much fun writing this. If y'all have any suggestions, corrections, or anything else, please review. Thank you. Merci. Gracias. Falla. Danke. Yeah, anywho…

Chapter 5

The next morning dawned cold and cloudy. Ashe awoke from fitful dreams and stumbled groggily to the bathroom. She took a shower and dressed in jeans and a light blue fitted sweater. She piled her damp hair atop her head and secured it with a large black hair clamp, then dragged her ass out of the bathroom. She slipped on her black high-heeled boots and slung her purse over her shoulder, thinking of going to get some breakfast. She vaguely remembered that she hadn't eaten anything the night before.

She exited her cabin and started to climb the stairs. She considered going to the 'Java Shack' for breakfast, but decided she didn't really want to be in there again. The 'Blue Oyster' was also out of the question, because it wasn't open this early. 'Besides,' thought Ashe, 'I hate the smell of cigarette smoke.' It always brought back bad memories from her childhood.

That left only one option. The main dining hall. With all those people…Ashe hesitated for a moment, but hunger won out, as well as a sense of duty. After all, the reason she had come on this cruise was to become used to interacting with people. Ashe heaved a deep sigh and continued climbing to the fourth floor.

She entered the main dining room and was immediately astounded by its size. She had seen it the day before, but there had been too many people milling around to get a good look. The room had the overall floor space of a football field. Most of this was taken up by a raised dais at one end which would undoubtedly hold an orchestra and some other performers at night, but which now stood empty. Heavy deep green curtains fell to either side of the stage. Grouped in front of the stage were an array of about fifty round tables of assorted sizes, each covered with a gleaming white tablecloth and a centerpiece of colourful seasonal flowers. Off to one side, a buffet table had been set up serving breakfast delicacies, and beside that a swinging door marked 'Personnel Only' led to the kitchens. Behind the dining area, a solid wood dance floor stretched almost to the other end of the hall. Chandeliers criss-crossed the two-story ceiling above, unlit now because of the natural light streaming in through the bank of windows along one wall. The windows were eight feet high and stretched half the length of the dance floor. They provided a beautiful view of the cloudy gray waters and the matching sky above. At the other end of the dance floor was a display case showing various awards and medals the cruise line and the ship had received, some information about the ship and its history, and a plaque depicting all the rich sponsors who had donated their money to the building of the ship. The place was packed, and sound echoed around the room. Great idea - with an orchestra. Bad with tons of people talking and children screaming and chairs scraping and dishes clanking.

Ashe almost turned back around and left, but she steeled her resolve and crossed the dance floor to the dining section. She found a small unoccupied table next to the wall and claimed it with her bag. A quick trip to the buffet table and a few mumbles that sounded like "good morning" later, Ashe settled down to her table with a cup of coffee and a buttered bagel. She ate in silence as she studied the people around her. Nobody else was alone. They all had people to talk to, friends or family to chat with.

After she had finished eating and had another cup of coffee, Ashe got up and went out to the same section of the deck she had occupied the day before just as the rain started to pour down around her.

Jack sped down the staircase to the lower holds of the 'Arctic Pearl', already knowing the way by heart. It was, after all, his headquarters aboard this ship. He pulled open the heavy hatch that led down to the very lowest cargo hold, slowing his pace to a lazy swagger as he came in sight of his companions. He didn't want them to know he had been rushing. In truth, he couldn't stand to be around so many living people, and only went up to the passenger decks when he had to. But they didn't know that.

'They' were the only other souls he had saved from the destruction of the 'Graza'. His most recent kills, the crew of the 'Arctic Warrior'. He had figured that if he was ever to get back at Maureen Epps, his having her friends captive would drive her out of her mind. Jack smirked. Not that she'd even recognize them as the good people she once knew. Once a spirit is Marked, it usually takes about a day for them to make the transformation into the twisted servants they were meant to be. Epps' old crew had all made the transition beautifully – all except Murphy. Even now, Murphy still wouldn't give up on his old self, no matter how much harder it was growing with each passing day. This didn't worry Jack. After all, Murphy was Marked, and therefore under Jack's complete control.

As Jack approached, Dodge looked up. "Yo," he called, "What's the news from above?"

Munder grinned. "Softened up that ice bitch any?" the long-haired man chuckled to himself. He found the whole Ashe Garner problem quite amusing, this being the second time in a week that Jack had been stumped by a woman.

"No," Jack said scathingly as he took a seat on a crate of his 'special cargo'. Nobody had asked about the gold when Jack had brought it on board, and that was for the best. Best the gold be an x-factor until the appropriate time. Jack put his face in his hands, suddenly exhausted, and spoke through his fingers.

"She's so skittish. She probably had a bad man experience, 'cause she doesn't like me touching her. She freaked out when I tried to touch her hand last night. She's not good with talking about herself either. Especially her past. She'll talk about the present, but if it's something in her past...if I could only see…" Jack snarled in frustration. He lifted his head to survey the five men before him – Dodge, Munder, Murphy, Greer and Santos – with his piercing stare. "I dunno. I think we should just kill her. She's definitely alone, and nobody seems to give a shit about her. In fact, she thinks she's just about fuckin' invisible. Maybe I should just bring her down here and -"

"No." Murphy said sharply.

Jack turned to look at the former captain and sneered. "You got a better idea, old man?"

Murphy seemed to freeze instantly under Jack's penetrating glare, but after a moment he hardened his resolve. "I just think we should give it some more time. Speaking of ideas, by the way, I haven't seen you coming up with a brilliant plan to take over this ship, hmm?"

Jack snarled, but the blow hit home. He was finding this place surprisingly empty of any layout that could help him kill almost 700 people quickly and efficiently. Plus, he had had other things on his mind...

"Shut up," Jack growled at Murphy, "It's only the second day. These things take time." He got up and started pacing. Five pairs of eyes followed him as he circled the small cargo area, muttering and cursing to himself.

Suddenly, he was struck by inspiration. "Wait a minute…" he mumbled, the details of the plan firming in his mind. He stopped pacing and looked up, a smirk playing across his features. He addressed his companions.

"Boys, I think I just found us a plan." Smiling to himself, and without another word, Jack brushed past his five ghostly accomplices and up the stairs to the main decks. It was so simple, so brilliant – why hadn't he thought of it before?

'This voyage is definitely going to be better than the last', he thought as he hurried up to the spot where he knew he'd find what he was looking for.