A/n: I have re-read Dragon Riders of Pern..and some of this is based on it. Not too much, but a bit. So...yeah...just a heads up. Oh, and for the moment, the chappies will be a bit short...but as the story goes, the longer they get...and more reviews help too.
Chapter two: The melding of minds
Jack Sparrow jumped from his seat, and went to examine the now unconscious girl. He checked her pulse at her neck. Where was it? Ah...there it was. Faint, but strong and steady. He straightened up, and faced her attacker.
The man Jack was facing was not handsome. Maybe when he was younger, but not anymore. Nearing fifty, he was tall, but starting to form a large robust belly from too many nights drinking. His dark hair, now peppered, was swept back in a desperate attempt at a younger look, but was thinning at the front. He wore a pair of leather riding chaps and a jacket. His boots, also suede, had his breeches neatly tucked into them. He was standing now, not as urgent as Jack had been, and looped his thumbs through the belt loops in his breeches. His face was screwed up in a scowl, that Jack had had the gust in defying the man, and checking on the girl.
Jack wasn't one for heroics, but he knew what it felt like being the underdog. But the smart side of his brain was nagging; Look what happened with Elizabeth. You almost got yourself killed...too many times for comfort.
"I told you not to interfere, Sparrow." The man said, in a dangerous and low silky voice. Too low, and too soft. Like a snake hissing, yes...he was like a snake, Jack thought.
"Ah..but you see, in Pirates' Code..you shall not strike a lady. Its punishable by death." He swept a hand towards the still girl laying on the floor. Her light brown hair sweeping across her face. She would have a smart bruise.
"Thankfully, Im not a pirate."
"Ah!" The two men stood staring at each other. Jack Sparrow was said to be handsome. Which was odd for a pirate, as scurvy–something almost all pirates had, save for this one–tended to turn ones appeal down a notch. His clothes screamed oddity, and that's how he liked it. Black Bart Roberts had a flair, never being secretive, and that's who Jack secretly modeled himself after.
"The piracy is dying Sparrow. Jean Lafayette gave you all a bad name. Blackbeard...or Henry as his dear guardians called him..was the last of the best. You have been slowly on the incline for a while now. And the recent death of Roberts just proves how sickly sorry your hides really are." The man spat on the ground at Sparrow's feet.
They were in the large dining hall of Fax Hillinburg. Many of the other diners who lived in the small convent were in the dining hall, watching with large eyes as the master and his guest were about ready to battle it out. Both men stood at the ready, facing each other. While he had been speaking, Hill–as he was called by those who knew him– had moved out from behind the main table, and was about seven paces away from the pirate.
"That's where your wrong, mate." Jack said, giving a sardonic smile, his gold teeth flashing in the candle light.
"Piracy will forever be at large. Im not so sure about the whole swash swash buckle buckle thing...but there will always be piracy," Jack's hand was slowly moving to the hilt of his cutlass, and when flesh touched metal, Hill's pistol was out in a flash.
"Poor Sparrow...odds against himself again."
"That's how I like, it really."
"Tell me," Hill started circling Jack slowly, eyes never leaving the thin and agile man. Jack rotated so as to keep Hill in plain view at all time. "How dose the miraculous Jack Sparra beat the odds with a pistol pointed at him, and his hilt in the sheath? I will answer myself...He doesn't." Jack gave a mirthless laugh, and like a lighting bolt, drew his sword and easily gutted the man. He was too stupid to start dialoguing, Jack thought wryly.
A few of the members of the hall started screaming...women. Jack, however, picked up the young drudge, and easily walked out of the dining hall without further incident.