Ok...lemme clear a few things. One...this is Christina. A friend of mine wrote the other story(go read it!). Two...this is RIGHT AFTER Jack was marooned. Mr. Derack Fox is Jack Sparrow. He had a sort of limp because he had just sustained an injury(its explained later). Three...er...Jack was married...but she DIED. He just lost the Pearl, and he got this large ship in hunting Anya. He doesn't know its Anya on his ship. He thinks shes just a maid called Jackie. He thinks Anya is in Port Royal. Shes on his ship. There. IF there are any more questions, please review and tell me.

Chapter two: Amnesia

Francis Hanover watched with something near regret as he saw the lush landscape slip away. The small castle on the bluff was showing through, grey on green.

A small baby's wail hit the air, and he quickly turned around to see a young maid scurrying across the deck, a screaming baby wrapped in her arms. She was obviously distressed, and had no clue what to do or where to go.

"Excuse me?" Francis walked over to where she was standing by the main mast, and offered a hand. He quickly withdrew it when he realized she had no hands free to shake with his.

"Im sorry?" She was clearly from England, her voice suggesting Sussex. Her dark brown thick hair was pulled up in a cap, though a few whisps were comind loose. She had large black eyes that were even wider with worry and aggravation. Thick brows were furrowed in annoyance as well. She had a long nose and high cheek bones. Her looks would have been striking, but she also had a line of scars from her chin to her left cheek. She was a slight creature, only coming up to Francis' chest.

"Are you lost? Do you need some help?"

"I..."

"We'll start with your name. And the baby's."

"I'm Jackie, and this is Isaiah."

Francis looked down at the bundle, with light hair and clear blue eyes. "If I may say so...the baby doesn't look a thing like you." Anya laughed, though brittle and piercing.

"I should hope not." She snorted.

"Pardon?"

"The baby is not mine. It is the captain's. And his late wife's. I was told to look after her from Isabel. I never met the captain before the other day." Anya blinked, and brushed a bit of dust off of the bundle, looking irritated once again.

"You seem lost," Francis stated, trying to get off of the subject, as it appeared to be bothering her.

"I am. Do you know where they are keeping the goat?"

"Goat?"

"Yes...for the baby's milk. I saw them bring a goat...but I haven't sailed before." Francis shrugged.

"You are lucky then. Most people who haven't sailed get sick. When we were coming from England, I was pea green the whole way." that seemed to make Anya laugh, and she looked around again.

"It is a big ship," she admitted. "But I fear the baby's hungry, and I haven't any clue where that damn goat might be."

Francis took her by the shoulder and led her down a small flight of steps, and into a somewhat large room. There was a long table, with two benches on either side in the middle(a bowl of apples on that) and cupboards lining the back wall. A small ship's stove was situated on the east wall along with a long counter. Anya took this to be the kitchen.

"Hutt?" Francis called. A stout man turned from where he was standing, chopping vegetables.

"Aye?" he called. He was rather plump, with a beard more grey then brown. Though his face was crinkled in the places one gets when one laughs. He wiped his hands on his breeches.

"Can you go see where this goat for the baby is? It's hungry." Francis bid Anya to sit at the bench, and she did so when the man named Hutt started out.

"Am I te brig it in 'ere?"

"Could you get the milk?" Anya asked hopefully. Her hand went to the small pouch by her hip, but Francis quickly stopped it.

"Who's babe?" Hutt asked.

"The captain's, Josh."

"Ah..." the man left, tutting.

"Who was that?" Anya asked in a small whisper.

"Mr. Josh Hutt. Pretty much an everything on the ship."

"An everything?"

"He does everything. I believe he knew the captain on his last vessel." Anya straightend the now whimpering baby in her lap, and looked up with curious eyes.

"This wasn't his first?"

"No." Francis said, sighing. "From what I gathered from Hutt and a tibit from my father; Sparrow...the captain..."

"Sparrow?"

"Yes, that's his name."

"I thought it was Fox."

"It was. He changed it before he was marooned. Let me tell the tale, girl!" Francis scolded in mock anger. But he quickly smiled when he saw the girl visably draw back.

"Sorry," Anya whispered, fidgeting with the baby's swaddling.

"Don't be. Now, the captain was marooned by his first mate. He lost the love of his life...the Black Pearl. Not just any ship mind you. Supposedly faster then any in the Caribbean. So, the captain after he was marooned..."

"How did he survive?" Anya voiced suddenly.

"What?"

"How did he survive...if he was marooned. From what I've heard of pirates or whatever, when they maroon people...they don't just drop them off in Nassau Port. They usually put them on some deserted place."

Francis shrugged. "I don't know. He was in a bit of limbo. This just happened under a year ago."

"Oh. I have been employed in his house for a few weeks. All I knew was that Miss. Isabel's husband was a sailor, and he was wealthy. That's it."

"Where did you grow up?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Where did you grow up?" Francis asked again. "Who where your parents? What profession? You said Sussex..but you look different."

"I dunno,"

"Pardon?" There seemed to be a lot of that flying around.

"Simply that. I know nothing of my past. I only remember living in a hovel. Then, being in Jamaica. I know nothing else. I have distant flashes..." Anya's eyes darted around the galley, seeing something Francis did not. She raised a hand and touched a small pewter pendant. "And this. I know nothing else," She repeated.

"But...how...?"

"I don't know!"

"Is it amnesia?"

"What is that?" Anya asked, closing her eyes and putting a hand to her forehead.

"It means that you know nothing of your past."

"Then yes. I have amnesia." She straightened up, and frowned, the scars on her face growing white. "You haven't said your name,"

"Oh...Francis. Francis Hanover," He was slightly distracted as Hutt walked back in, carrying a bucket of milk. So distracted, that Francis did not see the look of recignition dawn on the girls face. She knew the name, but she couldn't place it. Something in her heart told her that there was something wrong.