RETURN TO THE BLACK PEARL

From the looks of my reviews, it would appear that Starz Bakura has been sniffing the catnip again.

CAST OF THOUSANDS: You know, that's not right.

ME: Yeah. She should share.

I appologize for the shortness of this post (and all the previous ones), but it's just that they take so long to write. At least I update fairly regularly!


Chapter Three: Jack Attack

Norrington strode across the battlements of Fort Charles. Pausing, he took a moment to glance at his fleet.

Or what was left of it, anyway.

No one had bothered to provide funds or a replacement for the Interceptor, the ship once optimistically believed by those under its protection to be the fastest ship in the Caribbean. That idea, like the ship itself, had gone up in flames.

A half-length behind Norrington's right shoulder, Gillette heeled like a well-schooled puppy, waiting patiently for its master to resume their walk. Norrington wondered again why he had made him second-in-command.

But he knew the answer. It was for the same reason that he had made the Dauntless his flagship: simply, the lack of a better alternative.

Norrington snapped out of his eloquent reverie when Gillette coughed delicately but meaningfully behind him. "Ah, yes—where were we?" he asked wearily, noticing for the first time that the battlement upon which he stood on was the same that both Elizabeth Swann and Jack Sparrow had taken it in their heads to fall from.

Gillette seemed to swell slightly. In a voice thick with self-importance, he explained condescendingly to his commodore, "My duties as acting commodore during your absence."

Norrington said, "Yes, of course." He paused. He elaborated, "Well, try not to let certain pirates plunder any more vessels under our protection in waters not five leagues from the harbor." Beside him, Norrington felt Gillette wilt. "Yes. Yes, I believe that should suffice. Don't you, Lieutenant?"

Gillette said, "Yes, sir," meekly.

Norrington heard the distant voice of a watch call, "Sail ho!" He looked across the harbor and nearly bashed his head against the nearest battlement. He knew the ship sailing into the harbor. He had seen her several times before in his lifetime and had run across her many times in his nightmares.

The Black Pearl.

Followed closely by thick fog and another ship, one that Norrington didn't recognize. Both ships looked hostile, both to the other and the world at large. Beside him, Gillette appeared to be having heart palpitations. "Commodore, is that—" he sputtered.

Norrington was swiftly pulling the gold-plated spyglass that had been a gift to him from some dignitary or another and viewed the Black Pearl through it. "Jack Sparrow," Norrington said calmly, or as calmly as he could make his strangled voice sound. "Well, well. What could we possibly be doing? One would have though that the phase 'return and be hanged' would have been sufficient incentive to stay away."


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