Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates (If I did, I'd stop making crappy CSI: spin-offs and make the sequel already), and I know I've heard this chapter title somewhere before, so if I'm infringing on a copyright, please don't hurt me. Also, I have no idea who the king was at this time, so I won't use a name, okay, history professors? (P.S. If anyone does know, I'd appreciate somebody telling me.)
Chapter 3: Blue at the Mizzen
James Norrington loved England. The place of his birth was always a welcome sight. As the Dauntless moved into port in London, Norrington thought again of the letter in his cabin. Well, not so much a letter as a summons.
His Majesty Himself had called the Navy man to an audience in the Palace itself. The letter had been delivered a few months ago, when he'd been finally finished with repairing the damage to Port Royal from the last attack from the Black Pearl.
That raid still festered in his mind as he walked down the plank to the dock, where he was greeted by two redcoats, who led him to a coach. The raid hadn't been for food or riches; Sparrow had plenty of each, though he took it all the same. Nor was it for prisoners, though he took both AnaMaria and Joshamee Gibbs from Fort Charles. No, the purpose had definitely been to take a dig at him-Norrington. To insult him by saying, 'you let me go. Pay up, stupid Navy man.'
However, he pushed those thoughts from his mind. It was probably not the best thing to have on your mind-a pirate-when greeting the King.
Buckingham Palace was nothing short of astounding. While he had seen paintings of it, and even heard awe-filled descriptions of it, they paled in comparison to the real thing. The sheer size was awe-inspiring enough, but the grandeur was nothing short of Heavenly.
After what seemed like a short time, they came to His Majesty's Audience Chamber. Still having no idea what this was all about, he allowed the redcoat to open the door.
The room was empty. People and courtiers that should have stood all around were conspicuously absent. And down a prominent aisle was the King Himself, in full regalia. Norrington swallowed nervously, and marched to his King.
"Come, my friend. Take a seat." The King went to another chair, and sat. "Do you know why you are here?"
"N-no, my lord."
The king laughed. "Come, come, lad, where's your courage? Left it in the Caribbean, did you? Well, speaking of the Caribbean...I have some questions for you."
A royal interrogation. This had to be a first for a naval officer. It was strange how direct the king was being-no formalities or beating about he bush-just straight to the point.
"Have you heard of the Black Pearl?"
So much for not thinking about pirates. "I have."
"Of course you have. The Pearl was sighted crossing the strait between Ireland and Scotland."
"H-how, my lord? The Pearl is a Caribbean pirate vessel..."
"Surely you don't think Captain Jack Sparrow is limited to the Caribbean Sea, now do you?"
"True, sir."
"No, he's been everywhere in that ship, probably even to Hell Itself. But that's why I've summoned you here. You are going to find that ship and either capture it or sink it-at this point, I really don't care which. It's cost our Navy far too much in such a short span of time."
"Sir, am I being punished?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think.
Thankfully, the king laughed. "No. Quite simply, you're the only man who's ever gotten close to either the Pearl or Sparrow."
Closer than his Majesty knew-he'd been in a liferaft with the man, and been the first man within shooting range of the Pearl in years.
"Now, as a rear admiral, you'll have full access to whatever..."
"Rear Admiral, sir?"
"Weren't you aware that that was going along with your assignment?"
"I was not...er, thank you, sir." A Rear-Admiral! He'd have a blue flag flying at his mizzen. It had always been a dream, to be sure, but the thing of idle fantasy, not reality. Until now.
"No need. You've well earned it...unlike some others I could name. As I said, as rear admiral, you'll have access to any and all materials, ships, or men you need.
You even have the power of minor promotions. In fact, promote your first mate, Gillette. Also, only you or I control where your deployment is. So long as you're tracking Sparrow, I don't care if you visit Tahiti. But find Sparrow, and end his reign. Are we clear, Admiral?"
"Crystal clear, sir. And thank you very much, my lord."
"Yes, yes, yes. Now go and get the pirate. Every minute spent here is another that he's out there." A dismissal if he'd ever heard one.
"Good day, my lord." Admiral Norrington took his leave of the King.
"By God, its cold here, sir," Gillette noted as his commanding officer came aboard his ship. Norrington carried with him a rectangular box; judging by the by the delicate way he handled it, it was a gift from his Majesty.
Norrington smiled. "Been a little while since we've been here, hasn't it?"
"A little, sir." When his commanding officer gave him a kind, yet direct look, he continued. "It has been far too long, hasn't it, sir?"
"Indeed it has. But worry not. We're not going back to Port Royal for a while. In fact, we're here as long as I or the King so desires."
"How is that, sir?"
"Because, Commodore," Norrington smiled at the confused, newly promoted officer as he opened the box, displaying a blue flag, "a vice admiral with His Majesty's blessings controls his own deployment."
"Wh-wha...Admiral on deck!" He shouted as Norrington finished the walk up the plank to his command.
"Well, Commodore Gillette? Shall we get underway?"
"Yes, sir!" His first mate smiled brightly. "Hands, weigh anchor! Set sails!" He turned to the Admiralty. "What course, Admiral?"
Norrington had to admit, he liked the sound of that. "Ireland, Commodore. We have a pirate to catch."
