Yay! A new chapter! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, Araminta Ditch, windii, megan, williz, PopRocket, and "just visiting." I really appreciate the support. If anyone has some ideas for me, I'd be glad to hear them. I have a storyline set in my head, but you never know what I can add! Oh, and so you know, Jack will be in it...eventually. So, please continue to read and rate, and ON WITH THE STORY...

Barbossa pulled out his spyglass. After squinting into it for a few seconds, he rolled his eyes and quickly snapped it shut.

"That's not a ship of the British navy!" he said gruffly.

"But you said…!" protested Picard.

"Never mind what I said!" he growled. He looked across the water, where an odd vehicle was approaching them. "What the blazes is that thing?"

"Ummmm…..a ship of the royal navy?"

Barbossa sent him a burning glare. At that moment, the strange vehicle pulled up beside them. It was bizarrely colored: aqua, blue, orange, yellow... From an opening emerged a blond fellow with a gaudy red ascot.

"Gee!" he said "Do you guys know where Port Royal is?"

Barbossa and Picard exchanged glances.

"Uh, sure," said Picard. "It's a few days that-a-way," he said, pointing behind him.

"Groovy! Thanks!"

As the weird thing sped away, Barbossa turned sourly to his prisoners floating beside the Enterprise. "Lock 'em in the brig."

On the dinky insignificant ship Norrington had scrounged up for the occasion…

"Hmmm," muttered Will, scratching his head in confusion. "Now this doesn't look right…"

"We're lost?" said Commodore Norrington incredulously. "Lost! I knew you couldn't navigate!"

"Commodore, please, you are severely overreacting," said Will, looking at an upside-down compass.

"I told you to turn left at that last wisp of cloud!" Norrington continued.

"Do you think we should stop and ask for directions?" asked Murtogg, who had stopped oogling his miniature portrait of Sarah long enough to help man the ship.

"Well that's a fantastic idea!" said Norrington sarcastically. "Hey you!" he shouted at a seagull. "Have you seen a ship pass by?"

"Sheesh," said Murtogg. "What's his problem? This entire story he's been nothing but a grumpy-gus."

But Will wasn't listening. A dazed expression on his face, his eyes glazed over, and drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

"Mr. Turner?" Murtogg asked.

"Wha...? Oh! Yeah! I was just thinking, the Commodore might have a point."

"We should all start yelling at seagulls?"

"No, but we are going to ask for directions."

"Where?"

"Tortuga."

Meanwhile, aboard the Enterprise….

"Captain, I have detected a tachyon-pulse. Its positronic matrix is discombobulating the warp drive," said Lt. Commander Data.

"Grrrrrrrrrrrr! I am a Klingon!" said Warf.

No, no, no! Hold it! Time out! Not that Enterprise, turnip brains! Alright, where were we? Oh yes….

"I say!" said Phillip the steering wheel guy, looking worriedly at the gas meter. "I must tell Captain Barbossa!"

After putting the ship in park, he scurried off to the Captain's quarters.

He flicked the bright green apple from hand to hand; Back and forth and back and forth. He barely felt the movement, barely saw the blur of green. Captain Barbossa sat in the pilfered quarters of a British officer, in the ornate, comfortable chair once belonging to the Commodore himself. Barbossa's eyes focused on an invisible point, beyond the apple, beyond the Enterprise. In his own mind, he wrestled with himself.

"Dare I finish what I started?" he wondered. "It's too late for second guesses," he decided. "It's too late for a lot of things…"

His gnarled hand closed tightly on the apple, long nailed digging into the white flesh. "Picard!" he yelled.

Jean Luc Picard poked his head from behind the door. "Yes Mr. Barbossa?" he asked timidly.

"Bring me the girl."

"…Tomorrow, tomorrow,

I love ya,

Tomorrow,

You're always a day away…"

In the brig, Margaret Austen sat singingin the murky water, the bottom of her skirt wet and muddy, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms folded across them. Beside her, Mullroy snored softly. She sighed. She had been so sure that the ship, or whatever it was, had been her salvation. Now she was right back where she had started.

"Well," she said aloud. "At least Barbossa is gone!" Then she heard the rattling of keys and the cell door screeched on its hinges.

"Hey you!" said Picard. "You're coming with me. Oh, and put this on." He tossed a beautiful gown at her.

"No way am I putting that thing on!"

Shortly after, Margaret looked darkly under her eyelashes at Barbossa, her plump figure stuffed into the dress. He smiled.

"Oho, don't you think I don't know what you're up to!" she cried.

"And what is that, missy?" Barbossa said pleasantly.

"The name's Miss Austen, thank you very much, and I know what you're all about. You've got me into this little frock, the next thing I know, you try putting your hands on this!" she pulled from beneath the plunging neckline a paperclip chain, from which hung a crumpled piece of tin foil.

Barbossa chuckled softly. "Well, don't you know everything?"

"Don't you make fun of me! I get enough of that from my sister, don't you do it."

Barbossa smiled mockingly. "If you'd rather dispense with the pleasantries –."

"What do you mean?" Margaret interrupted.

An odd expression appeared on Barbossa's face. "Where's William Turner?"