For anyone who happens to read the Wolfe-Starre quintet at some point: I changed the story of Black Wolf and Lone Star dying and coming back to life to going missing for years, as the Forgotten Isle didn't fit the realm of Master and Commander. Just wanted to avoid some confusion on that point!
The Corelli Adagio I mention in this chapter is number 7 on the movie soundtrack, for anyone who wants to hear it. For those who don't have the soundtrack, Jack and Stephen play it together right after Jack announces they're going to the Galapagos.
Chapter Two
A History of Piracy
in which we learn the story of one Coraline Jacqueline Turner
"A fine day for sailing, isn't it Doctor?" Barrett Bonden called from the helm as Stephen passed him.
"For sailing? I wouldn't know. But it is a very fine day." He remarked, removing his hat. He contemplated throwing it out to sea, as Jack had often recommended, because the whimsy of the day seemed just right for it. Instead he walked to the taffrail and settled himself there, watching the dim shadows of sharks following them.
"We have no bodies for you today, I'm afraid." He said. A few minutes ebbed away, and then Jack was at his side.
"There you are, Stephen."
"If a captain is meant to know everything about his vessel, how is it that you never seem to know where I am?"
"I'm not unaware of where you are. It's just that I'm continually surprised at where I find you."
Taking the malformed piece of wit in stride, Stephen waited for Jack to continue.
"Would you join me in the cabin for lunch and perhaps some music? I have two bells or so to spare before the prisoner is brought to me."
"I don't see why not." Stephen replied, rising and following Jack to his cabin. "How has the crew reacted to her presence? The prisoner's, I mean."
"None of us like it. There's only one woman at sea, and that's the ship. Add another and everyone ends up caught by the lee."
"You liked it well enough when Sophie came aboard those years ago, on the Polycrest."
Jack chuckled a bit at that.
"She was different. None of the men would dare touch her. This one just might be in trouble if we don't keep her locked in the brig. By all rights, I should've hung her before we set sail again. She is a pirate."
"But she is also a woman, and I'd imagine that's where you've reached an impasse."
"Yes. You should've seen her, Stephen. She moved like the finest seaman up in the riggings. No hesitation, completely surefooted. It's prodigious strange, a woman sailor. I intend to find out what exactly it is we're dealing with, here."
"I take it we lost her ship?"
"...yes."
"Never fear, joy. I'm certain you'll catch her soon enough." Stephen soothed him as they reached the great cabin.
Killick's food and his familiar grumbling came and went, and soon Jack and Stephen moved with one mind to their instruments. They couldn't settle on a piece though, instead wandering off in their own thoughts and into different melodies. In the end it created an interesting juxtaposition as different worlds touched, overlapped, broke off, and remained changed afterwards. It was an expression of both companionship and individuality.
At the very end they came together on a Corelli Adagio they hadn't touched on in a while. It had never been Jack's particular favorite, as it didn't fit his bounding, joyous nature. He played it only because Stephen enjoyed its quiet reflections and easy rhythms.
"You just like it because the violin does all the work," He had remarked once.
Right as they reached the end, there was a polite knock on the door. Shortly thereafter, Killick and two marines entered. Between them was the prisoner.
Cora, Stephen reminded himself, although it was harder to think of her that way now. When she told him her name she was still covered in the sweat of battle and her hands were free. Now she had a closed, guarded look about her, and manacles on her wrists. Her bandana remained untouched, and he caught himself wondering at what her hair might actually look like.
"Have a seat, if you please." Jack said, putting down his violin. Stephen continued to clean his 'cello while a chair was brought.
"Gentlemen, you may wait outside."
"I believe I'll stay." He said, laying his cello aside. His tale of a female pirate would be much more credible if he had a firsthand account to supplement it with.
Cora took a seatat an angle to them and waited. Once the marines were gone, there was no point in delaying.
"What is your name?" Jack asked.
"Coraline Jacqueline Turner," She said with the same precision as before. "But I prefer Cora. And that was a fine Corelli you were just playing."
Both men were set on their heels.
"Do you play, Miss Turner?"
"I've been playing the violin by ear since I was young. Corelli has never been my favorite, though. A movement from Vivaldi's Four Seasons would do the trick for a day like this, I should think."
"This is a surprise." Jack chuckled.
"Thank you, sir. But we didn't come here to discuss music." There was a sad sort of look in her eyes.
"No indeed, but don't think of it as an interrogation. That would be most unpleasant, and never let it be said that the Navy was unkind to their prisoners."
"No indeed." She responded, the sadness hardening to ice for just a moment and then melting again. Jack, as usual, didn't notice this interplay.
"How old are you, Miss Turner?"
"You should never ask a woman her age, and I don't see how this is relevant in any case."
"It is very much relevant. I have brought you here to decide for myself how and why a woman became a pirate."
"Is there any reason I shouldn't be?"
"Well, it certainly makes my job difficult. You see, your being a woman makes it much harder for me to decide your punishment. I don't like to think of a woman under the cat or at the gallows, God forbid, yet I can't simply let you go."
"That might be better for both our interests, Captain." Cora said, leaning forward slightly. "What you say is true. It is difficult to punish me. I must beg you to leave me at the next port. Put me in jail if you wish, there's not a jail that's been built I can't escape from. But I tell you now that every moment I remain on this ship puts you and your crew in danger."
"What do you mean by that?"
She sat back, looking uneasy, and wouldn't meet their eyes.
"I'm bound by my word to my captain not to say anything more. You'll just have to take my word that if you leave me at the next port you'll be much better off, even if I still pay the price of disobeying an order."
"Speak plainly, Miss Turner. I can protect you if you tell me what's going on here."
"I don't think you could. My captain is also my mother."
"Two women on one ship?" Jack looked rather like a dead fish, his eyes wide open and an expression of breathless confusion on his face.
"Surely the one negates the other." Stephen murmured to himself. Cora heard him and, for an instant, he fancied she flashed a smile in his direction.
"Four women, actually. Myself, my mother, my sister, and Anamaria, who is close to a lieutenant, I guess."
"Your whole family is on that ship?" Jack asked, recovering.
"Mostly, yes. I was born into piracy. I was born at sea, as a matter of fact. Even my grandparents were pirates, and my great-grandfather on my father's side." Before either of the men could say anything, Cora shook her head. "I beg of you, let me tell the whole story. When I do my request will make much more sense."
"Very well." Jack said, relaxing against his chair. Stephen plucked at his 'cello's strings as Cora began artlessly the task of condensing an entire life.
Before I tell you this story you should know that it doesn't have a happy ending. It isn't one of the tales they sell in little pamphlets in England about high seas adventure. People call pirates freeloaders and criminals without knowing our struggles. We are as human as they are.
My grandfather, Caylyn, was born in England and pressed into the Navy. The sea was to his liking, but the rules and regulations weren't, and so once they got to the Caribbean he deserted along with two other fellows, Hank and Jack. He and Hank changed their last names to Starre and Wolfe, but Jack remained Jack Sparrow to the end of his days.
Soon after deserting, Caylyn met his wife Coraline- yes, I'm named for her -and they had three children: Nathaniel, James, and my mother, Arlen. Coraline died giving birth to my mother, and Nathaniel died in battle long before I was born.
The three men worked together carefully until they built a small empire on the seas. My mother grew up onboard their three ships: the Black Pearl, the Wolf of the Sea, and the Lone Star Running. You've met the second ship under that name; the first caught fire and exploded. It was named for my mother, who is called Lone Star, although she's never really said where she got the name. Her best friend was Hank's daughter Liash, better known as Black Wolf.
They were the princesses of the ships, growing up with no mothers but three boatloads of loving admirers. They shared everything from food to injuries to more than one prison cell. They went missing for years and found their way back home. When they were eighteen they even fell in love together, with the Turner boys- Matthew and Michael Turner, that is -apprentice blacksmiths in Port Royale. They were born in the Caribbean but their parents were from England, and they too had pirate blood on their father's side.
Here's the important part of my tale, the part I won't skip out on: for all these years they had had one Commodore James Norrington of the British Navy following them. ("I've heard of the man. He's a legend in the Navy for the worst of reasons. I think I know the rest of this story." Jack interrupted. "Well I don't," Stephen said. "So let's hear it from her.") Norrington made finding and killing us all his first priority after the humiliation Jack Sparrow had dealt him time and time again. He was sick with hate. He even had a ship built specially for catching us: the HMS Deliverance. At this time he knew patience back home was running thin; he needed a prize. But what could he do against a group of tight-knit ships so effective they were called the Deadly Trio?
When my mother was to be married to Michael, something came over Black Wolf. She and my mother had a terrible row on the day of the wedding, and they were barely on the way to patching it up when the ceremony came around. That was when Norrington struck. He and his sailors opened fire, shooting Black Wolf in the side when he knew there was no physician handy. He gave them a terrible ultimatum: watch Black Wolf die before them, or let her be taken into his custody, never to return. My mother wanted death for her friend before capture, but she was overruled.
I was born nine months later, and my first memories are of my mother crying at night, yelling at my father or the hands on deck, screaming and pounding on walls. The Deadly Trio was fracturing at the seams without Black Wolf, and for three years Norrington bided his time.
He followed our movements, using Black Wolf's knowledge, and caught us at a raid. He made sure Lone Star got one good look at Black Wolf and then the rest fell into place. She became as relentless in her hate as Norrington. She swore a blood oath to bring back Black Wolf and kill him with her own two hands.
When it came to it, she did not kill Norrington. They met out at sea, the Deliverance trapped by the Wolf on one side and the Running on the other. After two broadsides the ship was barely standing and its gun crew didn't know where to turn. Norrington refused to strike his colors. Though my mother was due to give birth to my sister Ashli any day, she went with the boarding party. The battle ended with everyone pointing a gun at someone else- Norrington at Black Wolf, his lieutenant Gillette at Lone Star, a crewmember at Jack, and Jack at Norrington.
Just one shot was fired. One shot, and their whole world stopped. In the end, it was Norrington who fell, and Jack's gun who smoked.
Black Wolf was home, but Norrington had abused her mercilessly and her memory was half gone. What's more, even as she remembered who she was, she still longed to go back to the life she lived with the Navy. She was never the same pirate as before. She and my mother were never the same friends as before, either. They argued constantly. Black Wolf didn't like that my sister and I were being raised in a life of violence, as the Navy put more heat on us than ever before.
The Trio was forced to go its separate ways in '85, lying low at their home ports and living off the wealth they had accumulated throughout the years. So I grew up at sea, barely raising my head, my eyes always on the horizon in the terrible fear of seeing the Union Jack. I know nothing but the press of wind and tide and the running out of guns.
Then in '99, when I turned nineteen, my mother called them back together again. She was sick of being forced to hide. She longed for the life she had before, the golden days when the world was her oyster and Black Wolf was at her side. She planned one last desperate strike at the Navy. Their presence in the Caribbean was greatly diminished. After all, there had been a revolution in France and Napoleon's star was on the horizon. (Curses from Jack at this) Only one man remained who cared about the Deadly Trio: Gillette, Norrington's faithful lieutenant. He never forgave or forgot us.
He was currently in command of a small garrison on the coast of Jamaica, and my mother planned to attack the fort, take it, and kill him. With him out of the way, she felt they could reign once more over the seas. She had always intended for her family to be an unshakable dynasty. She raised my sister and I the same way she was raised: by the Pirate's Code and by the laws of the sea. She expected us to continue the line. She still does, in fact.
It was an impossible plan and everyone knew it. But Lone Star had always been the princess, even more so than Black Wolf, and none of us had the heart to say no. So we took part in the ruse, hoping that halfway through she would come to her senses and realize what she had done. But everything went so horribly, horribly wrong. (Here her voice broke. "We can wait-" Jack began to say. "No," She interjected. "The retelling can't be any worse than it was to live it)
Gillette struck back harder than we thought he would. Our crews were slaughtered. My sister and I were forced to leap from the highest battlement of the fort and nearly drowned in the attempt. We awoke to the sound of the Wolf exploding. My mother was knocked unconscious by debris, and only because of that were we able to sail away. The Black Pearl was damaged beyond repair and sank only a few miles away. Black Wolf, Jack and Hank were mortally injured. They did not survive the night.
My mother has never been the same since then, and the fact that my father died just last year hasn't improved her. She's become a friend of the cat and her hatred for the Navy burns brighter than ever. She will stop at nothing to bring me back.
"Please, Captain. Just leave me at the next port."
"I couldn't do that even if I wanted to, Miss Turner. You are an enemy of the Crown."
Cora heaved a sigh and looked away.
"You know, you think we pirates are so different from you, and yet we're not. We have our honor and our codes to keep. They're just different than yours."
"And that's where we have our trouble, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so."
Jack stood.
"You will be sent something to eat later, Miss Turner. At the moment I need time to think about all you have told me."
Jack walked away to call for the marines, leaving Stephen was still sitting there, somewhat awkwardly. Cora turned to him and cocked her head, the look in her grey-blue eyes close to accusatory. "What are you looking at, Doctor Maturin?"
"I'm looking at you, Miss Turner."
The marines took her away after that, and she looked back at him only once. Stephen didn't think of her for the rest of the day; a new recruit had fallen from the rigging and his arm needed setting.
When he did think of her it was nighttime and he was alone in his cabin, working over a different section of the Corelli he'd played with Jack that morning. In the middle of the trickiest section, his hands halfway down the length of his 'cello so that he was almost embracing it, feeling its every vibration in his chest like a lover's hum, he thought of what Cora had said. The brig wasn't far from his orlop. He looked about a bit before edging his 'cello closer to the door and changing slowly to the Spring movement from Vivaldi's Four Seasons. He smiled as he felt through the endpin the dull thud of a boot beating time.
A/N- Well, that's Cora. Let me know what you guys think of her! And I have absolutely no idea if the brig is close to the orlop, but I'm sure we'll all survive. :-)
For anyone who missed it, Cora is indeed Will and Elizabeth's granddaughter. I know that Dead Man's Chest left some stuff up in the air, but our POTCstories are kind of AU anyway.
Anyone who can guess what movie the last dialogue of the chapter actually comes from will get a dedication in my next chapter. Thanks to last chapter's reviewer (FuschiaII) and to anyone else who happened to read it!
