12 YEARS LATER

Morgan's eyes snapped open. She rose to a sitting position and clutched her chest. Why was she dreaming about the ring? She held up her right hand and stared at it solemnly. She pulled a strand of honey-brown hair out of her face and scowled. Something wasn't right.

The house was quiet. Usually, at this time, she could hear her father working in his shop, or her mother scampering around, but it was silent…too silent. She swung her legs out of bed and stood up.

She crossed the room to her window and looked out. Fires burned in the distance. She frowned. Three ships were pulling out of port. She turned and headed towards her door, when she heard it.

The clang of swords clashing together. She froze, what was going on?

"Easy, Sparrow, you're 17, you can handle this," she told herself; using the nickname her father gave her.

She heard a muffled scream, and her father's words, "FLY SPARROW, FLY!"

She spun and ran to the concealed door. She flung it open and tore down the stairs. Her dagger rested on the mantle piece of the hidden room. She grabbed it. It was beautifully made, with a skull and crossbones hanging from the end.

She ripped her nightgown off and changed into a pair of breeches and a long-sleeved shirt. She stopped; the only sound was her breath. Morgan strained her ears for any sound. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, but was truly only a few minutes.

Silence greeted her ears as she slipped into the lobby of the Turner home. There were spots of blood on the floor, and a small knife dug into the doorframe.

"Mother…Father? Mom! Dad!" she called, but no one answered. She knew they wouldn't. They were gone. She looked down at the ring on her finger.

"Well, Mr. Sparrow, looks like I have a date in Tortuga."

Morgan ran to the stables, where a young stallion waited for her. "Easy Brazen, let's go." She leapt on his back and nudged his sides gently. Brazen took off, and she steered him easily with her legs.

They ran for a few minutes, and then she stopped him in front of a very large house. Commodore Kenwick Norrington's house. She jumped from his back and tied him to a tree. She scrambled over the fence and ran to the front door.

She pounded on it. "Open up in there! Hey!"

The door opened a crack and a maid was looking at her. "Mistress Turner! What are you doing here at this time of night?"

"I need to speak to the Commodore, it's urgent."

"Alright," the maid opened the door and Morgan burst into the house.

"Where is he?"

"In his study, miss."

Morgan, who knew this house almost as well as her own (minus the secret passageways, of course) took the steps two at a time and slowed in front of the study door.

She knocked. "Commodore?"

The door opened and she slid in. The commodore was sitting at his desk, writing in a small leather bound book.

"Ah, Sparrow, how many times must I tell you to call me Kenwick?"

Morgan grinned. "Sorry."

He put down his quill and looked up. "What do you need Morgan, you look serious."

"Kenwick, I need a ship."

He looked up at her in surprise.

"A ship?" He arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"My parents have been taken, and I know of only one person who can help."

"Captain Jack Sparrow," Kenwick said softly. Morgan nodded. Kenwick stood up and walked to his window, which overlooked the port. He gestured to Morgan.

"Come here, Sparrow." She walked up and stood next to him. He pointed to one of the smaller, faster, clipper ships of the Royal Navy.

"The Majestic?" she whispered. It was faster than the Interceptor had been, and could be sailed by one person. "Isn't that your son's ship?"

"Jake does not deserve to a ship such as that."

Morgan nodded in agreement. "He is a pompous ass."

Kenwick laughed in surprise. "Aye, that he is."

They lapsed into silence.

"I'll create a distraction for you, Sparrow, then fly away and take the ship."

"The distraction is already being applied." Morgan pointed to the three ships, which were being chased by four RN ships.

"He didn't take the Majestic?" Kenwick whispered, "Stupid boy."

He turned and looked at her. "Fly straight and high, Sparrow. And don't look back, not until you've found what you're looking for."

Morgan nodded. "Thank you, Kenwick."

She turned and ran out the door. Kenwick watched her sadly.

"Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me…"

Captain Jake Norrington spun around. Where on Earth were those three ships going? He, and his crew, ran to the port.

"Captain, shouldn't we take the Majestic?"

"No, Lieutenant, that'd be far too easy."

Morgan scoffed as she watched him. He really was a pompous ass. He was to egotistic to realize what a help his ship would be. All the better for her.

As they sailed away, she sneaked on board the Majestic. She cut the ropes, raised the sails, and set off.

The rock of the sea was calming. She was going home.

Morgan silently steered the ship along. The sea was calm and placid. She raised her face to the sky and sniffed. Smoke, she smelled smoke.

"Aye! Lass!"

She looked down and saw a black man sitting on a log, waving up at her.

"Where ye be headin' in a ship like that?"

"Tortuga!" she replied honestly.

"Would ye mind givin' me a lift? Lookin' for a job there, meself."

She shrugged. Why not? She tossed a rope over the side and he grabbed onto to it. She pulled him aboard.

"Many thanks, lass. The name's Sin."

"Morgan, but call me Sparrow."

"Morgan, by chance you be the daughter of Will Turner?"

"You know my father?"

"Man made a beautiful sword for me about 18 years ago, before your time. Ye look just like him."

They lapsed into silence as the wind pushed them along. Straight for Tortuga.

This is a test of the emergency broadcast system