Disclaimer: I don't own Kim Possible or Pirates of The Caribbean, Disney does.
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Chapter 7: A Parley, A Pretender, And A Curse.
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This wasn't what she'd signed up for when she came to work for Governor Possible, and right about now, she was really beginning to regret those choices.
Zita Flores had spent most of her younger years in poverty. Her father had died when she was just three, leaving Mama and her baby brother, Diego, to fend for themselves back in Spain. Little well paying work could be offered to a poor widow and her starving children, so they took what they had and stowed away on the next ship to America. Unfortunately, the captain discovered them before they reached their destination. When the ship made a stop for supplies in Port Middleton, the family was dropped off and left there.
The rest of the story was easy to predict. Zita met Kimberly Possible after the young aristocrat saved her from being flattened by an oncoming carriage. Kimberly brought the girl back to the mansion to be cleaned up, and Zita ended up explaining her predicament to the entire Possible clan. Feeling sorry for the girl's family, James offered her a job working at the house, cleaning and such. And everything just snowballed from there on out.
The position of head maid payed relatively well, so her family could now hold themselves up without the help of her father and the company at Possible manor was always good; Kimberly had proved to be a great friend to her, as well as the other members of the family, and the other house workers, such as Mandy, the cook, and Bates. Zita had never been shown greater kindness and love then she had here in Port Middleton.
But it felt like that was all gone now.
As the Hispanic girl ran through the front of the house, she felt as though her very way of life was coming to an end. Friends screaming and running for their very lives as crazed buccaneers rampaged through the mansion, destroying everything in sight, ransacking rooms of precious metals, jewelry, and other expensive items. Amongst the chaos, the dead body of Bates, kind, wonderful Bates, lay at the front door, his eyes open and glossed over as drying blood ran across his forehead.
Zita felts tears run down her cheeks and forced herself to look away. It hurt too much to watch this, to watch family die this way.
Distracting herself from the awful sight, she redirected her attention to the task at hand; finding Lady Anne Possible and her two boys. Hopefully the pirates hadn't already gotten to them.
Zita made a left from the parlor and down a hallway, which led to the twin's room. It was already littered with destruction, leading her into a moment of pure panic. They had been here already.
"James! Timothy! Lady Possible!" she called frantically as she made her way through scattered broken lamps, vases, and paintings, to the bedroom door, eyes searching for any sight of the identical boys or their mother.
No answer, and no one to be seen. Zita's fear increased ten fold. Not them! No way could these horrible men have killed Mrs. Possible and the twins! She was losing too much tonight as it was! Why them?
Turning the corner into another hallway, Zita called for them again.
"Mrs. Possib-!" her words were cut short as she rammed head first into something large and hard.
Stumbling back, she rubbed her now sore nose, and then looked up, trying to gather as to what she'd run into.
Her eyes widened fearfully as they were met with the sight a large, muscular pirate, a cutlass in his right hand and an evil sneer on his face. Apparently, he had been trying to pull out a golden candleholder from one of the walls, when an annoying little servant girl so rudely interrupted him.
Zita took a few steps away before she was met with a wall. The pirate matched her every move and cornered her, grinning evilly as he raised his blade above his head, poised to strike, then brought it down right at the young girl. Zita held her hands over herself and shut her eyes tightly, bracing for the searing pain that came with being cut in half.
A loud boom and a blaze of orange, and suddenly, the angered pirate was thrown across the hallway like a rag doll, going straight through the end wall and leaving a giant, pirate shaped gap in his wake.
When the cutlass never came, Zita made herself look, to see what was holding back her demise. Her mouth hung open as she gazed upon the large hole on the other side of the hallway.
How on Earth... she began to think.
"Hicka-bicka-boo?"
"Hoosha!"
The identical voices chorused behind Zita, promptly followed by what sounded like a high five. The girl was quick to turn around and look back the way she'd come.
Standing there confidently was Mrs. Possible, still in her nightclothes, her hands crossed over her chest as she smiled warmly. To her left and right were Jim and Tim, both of which were holding the sides of a very large gun-looking object, made up of scrap metal and what looked like tree sap, it was set in a shooting position. They smiled in unison as they looked up at their mother.
"We told you, mom..." Tim said.
"...That combining the gun powder with our fuel mixture..." Jim continued.
"…Would cause a chemical reaction!"
"Resulting in the ultimate in firepower!" the boys slapped hands again at this.
Mrs. Possible grinned at her children and nodded. "Nicely done, boys," she then looked back at Zita with sudden concern. The young maid was still wearing a face of pure shock.
"Zita, are you okay?" she asked in a motherly tone.
The words entered her subconscious smoothly, and broke her state of surprise with ease. Zita raced up to the small group, and despite herself, embraced the two boys happily.
"Fine," she said, tears of joy running down her face as she stood up, trying to regain some composer. "I'm just fine, Lady Possible."
She looked down at the boys again, preferably eyeing their strange-looking gun.
"What is that?" she asked inquiringly. Jim and Tim held out their chests proudly as they lifted the large weapon closer for Zita to see.
"Just a little something we've been working on," Jim said smugly.
"We call it, the Super Blaster!" Tim exclaimed with a smile.
"I went in to get the boys," Lady Possible added, "and they brought out this little invention of theirs."
Upon hearing all this, Zita knelt where she stood, so that she was at eye level with the twins. She smiled sweetly. "Well, thank you, you just saved my life."
Jim and Tim shrugged in response. "It was no big!" they said again. Zita gave them a bewildered expression as she stood back up, and then looked to Mrs. Possible questioningly.
The prestigious woman just shrugged. "I have no idea where they came up with that."
"Right then," the maid said, brushing off the conversation quickly. She still needed to complete her given orders. Zita took a few carefully steps back down the hallway.
"We must go, before were killed in this attack!" she exclaimed, hoping that they would just listen to her and go, unlike what Kimberly had done.
"What about Dad?" asked Tim, he and his brother wearing the same concerned face.
"Mr. Possible left for the fort a few hours ago, I imagine he is safe there," Zita stated reassuringly before turning around, ready to leave.
"And what about Kimberly?" Mrs. Possible's words were cool and calm, but still made Zita's heart skip a beat.
Kimberly. Somehow she'd wished that they wouldn't ask about her. For she was still upstairs, fighting for her very life using nothing but a bed warmer and sheer wit, against two bumbling pirates. She believed in her friend's skill, and knew she'd pull through somehow. But to tell Kimberly's mother that she was putting herself in such danger...
Zita faced Mrs. Possible with a soft smile. "Kimberly's headed for the fort, I told her we'd meet up there." The lie was heavy on her tongue, but she forced her guilt away for now.
You could see right away that Mrs. Possible was skeptical, but like Zita, she pushed the feeling aside and regained her confidence. "Let's go then,"
As the small group dodged their way through crowds of pirates and general destruction, making their way to the front door, Zita couldn't help but think that her little white lie would cost her best friend very dearly.
--
The adrenalin rush was more then welcomed as Kimberly raced back down the stairs with little on her mind except escaping. She looked down into the parlor, no sign of Zita. That hopefully meant that she had gotten her family and left. But it could also mean that she was dead, or worse.
Kimberly gulped at the horrid thought, trying to keep herself on track as the bottom of the stairway inched closer.
A sudden calamity of noise sounded from above her. She looked back up, and to her chagrin, found both of her pirate 'friends' bumbling down after her, annoying and singed expressions on their faces.
She sighed exasperatedly. It seemed that her little detraction had not been enough to slow these two down. I'll have to come up with something else, she thought as she reached the final step with haste, not noticing that the wooden eyed man was taking a shortcut by leaping over the banister, in hopes of cutting her off.
Kimberly stopped short and gasped in surprise as Lucre suddenly fell from the sky and landed flat on his face, right at her feet.
Behind her, and finally caught up, Drakken covered his face with his hands and sighed, obviously embarrassed by Lucre's shortcomings.
The one-eyed pirate stood up suddenly, dizzied and from what Kimberly could tell, in pain.
"I'm okay!" he muttered rigidly, trying to regain his senses.
Drakken shook his head in disbelief, then looked back at his redheaded target and grinned evilly. "Now where were we?"
Kimberly looked up at her blue pursuer with a twinge of fear glinting in her eyes, she tried to turn around and run, only to find herself face to face with Lucre again, who made an attempt at a vicious growl, holding his hands up like claws to scare her. She backed away as much as she could. Trapped, like a rat, she thought as she looked back and forth from the two; there was no way to escape them.
As Kimberly began trying to calculate the probability of escape, a moment's detraction was given as the front door was opened and another of the pirate crew members entered. He was muscular with long blonde hair and dark eyes, and in his arms, he carried a large amount of gold and jewels, pilfered treasures from around the neighborhood probably, she recognized some of the finery, as it belonged to several of her friends. How pathetic, Kimberly thought with a scowl.
And then, another boom resinated from outside, and the faint whistling sound edged closer to the house then any before it. The redhead immediately knew what was coming next.
All four suddenly looked to the back of the room as a cannonball crashed through the wall. It zipped across the room at frightening speeds, splintering one of the house's wooden pillars before it slammed into the chest of the blonde pirate and spent him flying through the closed doors, rocking them off their hinges and shaking the entire building. The expensive brass parlor chandelier rattled in its spot, then quickly came loose from the ceiling, making a snapping noise that caused the remaining three people look up with shock as the beautiful decoration fell to the ground.
That's when Kimberly saw her chance. Drakken and Lucre were distracted, and she could easily get away now.
Pushing past her two pursuers, the aristocrat ran across the room, giving them little time to catch up with her as they suddenly remember their original mission. She dove under the chandelier's path right before it crashed into the polished floor, glass shattering and metal twisting upon impact.
Drakken and Lucre leaped over the broken light fixture and took off after Kimberly again, but she had the upper hand this time, and quickly took off into the dining room. Upon entry, she locked the door, then grabbed a nearby candelabra and jammed it over the handle for good measure. That should hold them, for now, Kimberly thought warily as she heard them begin to beat upon the door again. They would get through soon, so she had to work quickly.
There had to be something she could fight with in here, anything! A knife, a fork, she'd even settle for a large serving platter! In her frantic search, her eyes suddenly fell on the court of arms that her father had set above the dining room fireplace.
"That'll work too." Kimberly muttered with a smile, racing over to the display of crossed swords as she heard her makeshift blockade rattle under pressure as Drakken and Lucre made short work of the door.
Reaching as high as she could, the redhead grabbed one of the swords by the hilt, hoping to draw it like you would from a sheath, but when she tried to yak it out, it only resulted in her pulling down the whole court of arms onto the floor. Her eyes widened and she desperately shook the display, trying to loosen the sword.
"No!" she said, inwardly cursing.
The familiar noise of doors being forced open suddenly entered her ears and she looked up with sudden fear, her breath growing rigid. She was out of time!
--
It was seconds later that Drakken and his partner finally pushed their way into the dining room, growling with annoyance as they held swords at the ready.
Both were shocked to find no Kimberly.
Drakken groaned, now extremely irritated. This game had gone far enough! He was tired of running around this house and just wanted to get back on the ship, whether they caught this girl or not.
Lucre's voice pulled him out of his train of thought.
"Look there!" called his partner, pointing to the far side of the room, where an open window sat. Of course, she just had to go through there! Drakken narrowed his eyes as Lucre quickly took off toward it, in hopes of catching their target.
And then the pulse. That horrible, torturous pulse. It entered the blue pirate's mind like a wave, and he forced himself not to react to the pain. It was here; he knew it was here, and close. He had felt it from the moment they'd entered this manor, when he had first spotted the girl.
No, it couldn't be, he thought. But he knew in his cold heart that it was.
Drakken walked over to his friend and grabbed him by the shoulder. Lucre looked back in surprise to find his partner just giving him a determined nod. Drakken then turned around with a devious smile.
"We know you're here, poppet," he called, his voice echoing across the vast room. Lucre made a confused face, before leaning in on Drakken.
"What's a poppet?" he whispered. The blue pirate gave a surprised look, then rolled his eyes and whispered back with annoyance.
"It's like a girl."
"Ohhhh, okay, gotcha!" Lucre muttered, giving a thumbs-up before pulling away.
"Yeah! Come out, and we promise we won't hurt you," continued the one-eyed pirate, unconvincingly or overzealously speaking. He looked back at Drakken with an excited smile, only to be met with a tired and dull expression.
"What?" he asked.
"Please just let me do the talking." Drakken said dryly.
--
Kimberly watched the almost humourous scene unfold from a small crack between the pantry doors, dull light illuminating a side of her face and shining across one of her olive eyes as she forced herself not to breath as heavy as she'd like. The scene would've been funny, had her life not been in danger.
"We will find you, poppet," she heard the blue pirate say. As if, she thought, rolling her eyes for effect.
"You have something of ours," he continued darkly, "and it calls to us."
And despite her notion that these two were not much of threat, she felt a shiver run down her spine. There was something very ominous in his words.
Suddenly there was another sharp strike of pain in her chest, the strongest of all of them. She bit her lip hard and forced herself to keep from collapsing. Kimberly breathed heavy for a second and placed a hand on the spot where it was worst, where it almost felt as though her flesh was on fire. Her hand fell on the cold metal of her medallion by contrast.
"The gold calls to us,"
The whisper of the pirate coursed through her brain like a snake twisting through the grass, and she rubbed the medallion between her smooth fingers, tracing the skull shape with her index nail.
Kimberly carefully lifted the coin away from her chest and looked at it carefully in the light, the words echoing in her mind as she finally pieced together a long sought puzzle in her life.
These unexplainable sharp pains that had gone on all day, her strange case of amnesia at the dock, this horrible weather, the mysterious appearance of these pirates; somehow... it was all connected to Ron's pirate medallion, she just knew it.
This is impossible, Kimberly thought, eyes widened with realization.
Suddenly, the shine that came off the coin was darkened as a shadow was cast upon her hand, and it grew, stretching across the entire line of light and blocking it out. The young redhead felt the faint glow leave her face and she looked up.
Her heart skipped a beat as she locked eyes with Drakken, who was staring at her through the crack in the pantry door, a nasty grin on his face.
"Hello, poppet," he said, and the doors were flung open quickly.
Kimberly stumbled backwards, bracing against the wall as Drakken and Lucre entered, raising their pistols and cutlasses at her. She was seriously cornered now, with no chances of escape. There had to be something though, there was always something!
That was when Kimberly remembered exactly what she needed. And made a mental note to thank her father for buying her all those pirate books as a child once all this was finished.
"Parlay!" she called more frantically then she'd planned. But it had the effect she wanted, Lucre and Drakken suddenly stopped, each wearing the same shocked and bewildered expression.
"What?" Drakken croaked quickly, disbelief lingered in his tone.
"Parlay," Kimberly repeated, her breathing was quick, but there was newfound confidence in her voice. "I invoke the right of parlay. According to the Code of The Brethren set down by the pirates Morgan and Bartholomew, you have to take me to your captain!" she finished smugly.
Drakken gave her a look of annoyance. "I know the code!" he shouted at the aristocrat.
She glanced at him passively, smirking. "If an adversary demands parlay, you can do them no harm until the parlay is complete."
"That's not fair!" Lucre exclaimed suddenly, pointing his sword at Kimberly's nose. His blue partner grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back roughly.
"She wants to be taken to the captain!" Drakken said, shouting in Lucre's ear, almost scolding him really. Then he looked back to Kimberly; there was slyness in his eyes that she really didn't like. He smiled greasily.
"Then she'll go without any trouble." he said. "We must honor the code."
Kimberly ignored the urge to gulp, and nodded in agreement. She really had to wonder if the parlay was such a good idea. Sure, she was safe from these two, but had she just thrown herself out of the frying pan, and into the fire?
--
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Ron was having his own pirate problems to deal with. He fought valiantly alongside his neighbors, but it seemed like you just couldn't defeat these guys, no matter how hard you tried.
Ron blocked another large, particularly hairy pirate with his sword and axe, the man held a nasty looking grapple hook in each hand and growled at the boy viciously before letting him pull away. The pirate lifted one of the hooks to attack, but Ron swiftly slashed at the grapple's chain, attempting to knock it from his hand. It didn't work, and the pirate threw him backwards.
Dazed, Ron didn't have time to fight back before he found a grapple hook going around his neck and he was pulled face to face with his opponent. The pirate snatched the axe from Ron's hand and grinned evilly, the blacksmith's eyes widened.
"Say goodbye!" he exclaimed with wickedness.
Another cannonball suddenly flew above them, crashing into the shop sign the two stood under. It creaked from impact before swinging down like a pendulum.
Ron saw the incoming danger and screamed, ducking out of the pirate's grasp. His opponent went to attack again, but was stopped short as the front of the sign sent him flying into the shop window, glass shattering upon impact.
The young blacksmith stood up, sighing in relief as he looked on at the broken window.
"Er, goodbye," he muttered.
Ron stepped back into the streets, still ravaged with people fighting, or running away. But they seemed to be making more progress in winning the battle then earlier, they actually had a chance at winning.
The sight of more pirates entering the area suddenly distracted him; they seemed to be coming from the direction of Possible Manor, with various treasures mounted in their arms as they ran through the battlefield. They're leaving, that's good, thought Ron, but isn't that Governor Possible's stuff?
But after a moment of observing what the pirates had stolen, Ron suddenly realized that gold wasn't the only thing these men had taken.
Leading the group were two strange looking men, one with blue skin, the other with a wooden eye, and in between them was a familiar young redheaded girl was being pulling along by her wrist. Feeling she was being watched, she suddenly locked eyes with the blacksmith.
"Ron!" she called, only to be escorted farther away.
"Kimberly!" he shouted back, quickly weaving through the crowd in an attempt to keep up with them. He wouldn't let the pirates take her, not now, not ever!
Suddenly, a surprisingly familiar face blocked his way.
It was short pirate with the kilt, the one who had been chasing Mrs. Porter, the one... he'd thought he killed.
The formerly deceased man gave Ron a wave hello, and the blacksmith's face turn perplexed. No way, he thought, but before he could piece together how this man had survived an axe to the back, he heard a strange fizzling sound below him.
Ron looked down at his feet to find a miniature bomb set between them, lit and ready to blow.
But before he even had time to panic, the fuse reached its end. And that was it. No explosions, no nothing. Something must've not connected between the fuse and the gunpowder inside the bomb.
The Scottish man gave a look of shock and anger, while his former target just breathed another sigh of relief and smiled. That made it two times tonight that Ron had avoided near death.
"Well, that was sure lucky!" said Ron as he reached for his sword again. Maybe fighting this guy a second time would make him go away.
Unfortunately, our young friend failed to notice another of the pirate's renegade friends coming up behind him with a armful of loot, including one very large vase.
"Out of my way, scum!" called the pirate, brandishing the vase wildly as he attempted to push past Ron. But instead of just passing him like a normal man would, the pirate simply bashed the bottom of his expensive decoration over Ron's head, laughing as he raced passed the poor boy.
Without a moment to process what had happened, Ronald crumpled to the ground, blacking out in an instant.
--
Jack had been in the process explaining to his fellow prison mates exactly how he planned to escape and that they could accompany him if they were capable of doing as he told, when the constant beating the cannonballs were putting against the jail was finally too much for the already crumbling walls to take, and with a final blast, the stone gave way. Jack made seen it coming and ducked down in his cell, not wanting to be crushed.
But as cruel fate would have it, only one cell was opened by the destruction. The one next to his, where the very people he had been planning with for the last hour were housed! It was sad and ironic, but then, that phrase pretty much described Jack Sparrow's whole life.
He watched pathetically from the bar grating that separated the cells as his supposed comrades cleared out with haste, off to join the fun outside, no doubt.
The salt-and-pepper haired man, whose name was Chester, gave Jack an apologetic look, the cockroach was still on his shoulder, it seemed to have taken to him.
"My sympathies, friend," Chester said with the usual lisp, "you've no manner of luck at all."
And without another word, he was gone.
Jack moved from the grating to a small crater-like hole in his cell wall, the only dent the cannonball had left, and watched the criminals as they stumbled down the rocky path below the prison and zipped off into town under the light of the full moon, they could easily escape with all the commotion out there.
No matter though, thought Jack as he moved away from the depressing sight. He wasn't going to let something like this deter him. Just gotta come up with a new plan, is all.
But in his desperation, he could only think of one thing to do.
Jack moved to the corner of the cell, where a signal femur bone sat. I can't believe I'm going to do this, he thought as he grabbed the bone in one hand, then went to the cell door and held the object through the bars, just enough so certain prison poodle could see.
He whistled and called as pleasingly as he could. "Come on, doggie! It's just you and me now, just you and ol' Jack. Come on!"
The small dog, seemingly interested by the man and his treat, began sneaking from under a nearby table, slowly making his way toward Jack.
"That's a good boy, come on! Good boy! Come on!" he continued to call, starting to grow impatient. Couldn't this accursed mutt go any faster?
The poodle edged ever closed, keys jingling as they hung from his maw. Jack shook the bone with more speed, as if to make the creature move closer, quicker.
And soon, the dog was within a foot of his cell, and Jack could nearly reach the keys.
"That's it! Bit closer, bit closer! Such a good doggie!" he said excitedly, almost ready to drop the bone and snatch his freedom. "Come on, come on! Come on you filthy, slimy, mangy cur!"
The prison's creaky front door sounded suddenly, and the little dog took off, running down the stairs that led to a lower level. Jack waved his hand frantically, although he knew there was no stopping him.
"No, no, no, no! I didn't mean it! I didn't!" he called after the creature, but quickly gave up. He leaned against the barred door and sighed. So much for that, he thought dryly.
The prominent sound of clashing swords and all around calamity snapped Jack's attention to the front of the hold, where the noise was coming from. A soldier's body suddenly rolled down the steps that led into the upper level, several ugly stab wounds in his chest, and Sparrow watched warily as two people stormed down behind the fallen man, swords drawn.
The first was a tall man, with spiked out black hair and a long face, his skin was tanned from years at sea, his eyes were dark and rings ran around them, and his clothes were well worn, but still darkly colored, with a puffy red shirt and black pants. Unlike most pirates seen that night, this man wore a pair of green gloves; they looked as though they'd been stolen off someone rich.
The second was seemingly younger, or looked that way. He was much thinner built then his comrade, and while he was muscular, there was something almost feminine about his shape. The man was paler skinned, with deep emerald eyes and kohl drawn around them, and finally long black hair, which was tied into a braid with a piece of green string.
He wore a green and black bandana over his head and clothes that matched, but unlike his comrade, his clothes looked like a mismatched patch quilt. The shirt and pants were made up of pieces and parts of other fabric, with lots of greens and browns and tans, they made up a strange pattern on the outfit.
Jack's eyes widened as he saw the two, for unfortunately, he knew them!
"This isn't the armory!" shouted the first; his British accent was prominent as he stamped his feet angrily.
And that was when he noticed Jack. He gave off an expression that was pure, undeterred shock, then he smirked at the jailed pirate.
"Well, well, well, look what we have here, Hego." he said slimily, nudging his comrade in the ribs. The younger man looked over to Jack, but didn't smile, just kept the same, overly surprised expression as they approached the cell door. Jack moved over to face them with a sneer.
"Captain Jack Sparrow," continued the British man teasingly, folding his hands behind his back, "the last time I saw you, you were all alone, on a God-forsaken island, shrinking into the distance."
He took a moment to laugh nastily. "His fortunes haven't improved much, eh?" He looked to Hego, who simply nodded and smirked slightly, though still seemed quite shaken by Jack's appearance.
Jack grinned at them in his usual sharp, dark way. "Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen. The deepest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers," he glanced at Hego. "And this goes for both men, and women."
The comment snapped the young man from his shock, and he growled at Jack before lunging at hand at him, grabbing the pirate by the neck and forcing him back.
But that wasn't the most shocking part, for as the moonlight bathed his arm in its white glow, the entire appendage changed form. Instead of the pale skinned fleshy hand, Jack saw nothing but bones. Everything from his elbow down was suddenly... skeletal.
"So there is a curse," Sparrow swallowed harshly as he felt the fingers bones run across his jugular vein, "That's interesting."
Hego waited a moment more, glaring at him with hatred, before releasing his grip on Jack, roughly, like he wanted to break his neck. His hand returned to a normal form.
"You know nothing of Hell," he muttered with sheer darkness, and mild regret. His voice had a slightly higher pitch then that of the other man.
The British pirate gestured to Hego. They still hadn't found what they were looking for, the armory, and they'd really have to leave soon.
With a last sneer at Jack, the two quickly ran out of the prison hold hastily, leaving the former captain to gather his thoughts.
Jack watched warily as they left, then looked down at the bone that was still in his hand with deep contemplation, bouncing it in his palm.
"That's very interesting." he muttered to himself, holding the femur up in the moonlight.
--
The crying winged maiden with a sparrow in her outstretched hand. That was the first thing Kimberly noticed about the pirate ship as she watched it grow closer from her spot on the rowboat.
The beautiful teary-eyed woman was set across the front of the haul, her wooden form was rotting, chipped and worn, like everything else about this particular ship. It looked ghastly, like an omen of death, but she had very little light to see the whole thing, the full moon kept fading in and out from behind thick clouds.
But this was familiar, she had seen this before, she could feel it.
As the boat pulled up to the side of the ship, several men threw down ropes and hooks to Drakken and Lucre, who grabbed them up and quickly secured the hooks onto the wooden sides. Kimberly was quiet as they were hoisted into the air, carefully listening to the chaotic noise coming from the ship.
Her plan was simple; converse with the captain and bargain with him to leave Port Middleton. If he had the same accursed sixth sense as his crew, he would probably do anything to get his hands on the pirate medallion. She touched the metal necklace with mild bitterness, getting rid of it was probably best, though she felt as though she would miss her treasure. Suddenly, she had a bit of daja vu, like she'd explored this train of thought before.
"Come on!" Drakken's harsh demand snapped Kimberly back to attention, they had become level with the ship.
Game time, she thought as she followed her two escorts onto the black pirate vessel.
Stepping onto the dark and stained boarding, Kimberly took in for the first time, what a pirate crew truly looks like. To describe the scene best, it would be appropriate to say that it looked like the attack on Port Middleton put to a much smaller scale. The men were bunched together like ants, running rampade and shouting insanely. The whole scene was a little discomforting in the young aristocrat, and dwindled her belief that their captain could be a seemingly sane man.
As she looked around, she suddenly noticed a shadowy figure standing at the helm of the ship, dressed in a long coat and feathered hat, a small animal... a monkey, she realized, was sitting on his shoulder. Could that be him?
Kimberly wasn't given time to check, Drakken grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away suddenly, trying to get her out of the over packed crowd that was quickly forming around them, crew members taking interesting in the female newcomer.
As her two escortstried their best to push through the growing and under bathed gathering, another of the crew blocked their path. The tan, black haired one with gloves, just returned after an unfruitful search for the armory, his young companion was nowhere to be seen.
"I didn't know we were taking on captives." he said in his thick accent, eyeing Drakken and Lucre warily, as if he was shocked to see them with the young woman.
The blue skinned pirate caught the look and gave him a sneer. "She's invoked the right of parlay with the captain, Monty."
Monty smirked and rubbed his chin. "Not really considered a captive then," the comment seemed rather condescending.
Kimberly, finally tired of being the center of debate and not saying a word in her favor, pulling herself from Drakken's grip and stomped her way over to Monty like the aristocrat she really was, her tone filled with confidence.
"I'm here to negotiate-" was all she got to say of the well preparedspeech she'd been planning since she had been dragged from her home, before Monty removed one of his gloves and slapped her across the face with the back of his hand.
"You will speak when spoken to," he ordered roughly.
Kimberlyreeled back, snapping her head forward and holding a burning cheek as she gave the pirate a look of pure shock and disgust. How dare he! It was then that she noticed the unusual patches of hair on his hands, almost like... fur.
And just as the young woman was prepared to rip into her rude attacker, a mysterious hand grabbed Monty's raised arm warningly. Kimberly quickly traced the arm back to the very man she had seen at the helm.
He looked very different up close; his face was wrinkled and aged, though he himself looked quite young. His hair was down to his shoulders and gray-black, with a shorter beard and mustache to match. His clothes were weather-beaten and worn, and on his shoulder, the small monkey still sat.
But his eyes... his eyes were the most frightening thing about him, they were grey, like his hair, but around the iris, where white usually was, there was a yellow coloring, like an illness had overtaken them. Kimberly had trouble drawing herself away from those eyes.
"And ye shall not lay a hand on those under the protection of parlay," his voice was cracked and aged, but not without a certain charisma.
Monty removed his furry hands from the man's grasp and softly sneered, "of course, captain," he muttered with contempt, and quickly pulled back.
So this is the captain, Kimberly thought as he stared at her with unwavering eyes.
"Apologies, miss," said the man, giving a swift bow to her.
Kimberly was rather surprised by his manners. "Er... thank you, Captain..."
"Barbossa," he stated with proud introduction. "Captain Hector Barbossa, at your service, miss."
At least he wasn't as barbaric as his crew, perhaps she could actually do business with this man, but she'd have to be careful. She had learned from Jack Sparrow that you never trust a pirate entirely, no matter how charming they were.
Taking a deep breath, she approached the pirate captain with all the strength and pride she could muster.
"Captain Barbossa," she started, "I can here to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against Port Middleton."
Barbossa gave an amused smirk. "There are a lot of long words in there, miss, we're naught but humble pirates." He seemed to be laughing, but then he straightened his expression again, like it had never happened. "What is it that you want?"
Kimberly's face toughened up. "I want you to leave and never come back."
This time, the whole crew snickered. She ignored them best she could, and focused her attention on their captain, her intense green eyes burning holes into him.
But like Jack, Barbossa was unfazed, and in a much scarier way then Sparrow. He chuckled as he bounced her intense glower off with his own eyes.
"I'm disinclined to acquiesce your request," he said with a fervent smirk.
Kimberly gave a blink expression, too shocked by the answer to actually speak.
Barbossa took the opportunity to put salt on the wound. "Means 'no',"
The redheaded girl made a sour expression and forced back a thousand things she'd had loved to say to the pirate. Mostly, she wanted to snap, "I know what it means," but ignored the impulse when she remembered her bargaining chip. Kimberly smirked as she pulled the medallion off her neck.
"Very well then," she muttered, holding the treasure up for Barbossa to see, then she turned around and stormed through the crowd, noticing Drakken and Lucre trying to come up with some way to stop her, but truthfully paid them no mind as the crowd followed nervously.
She reached the edge of the ship quickly, and without a second thought or care, held the medallion over the side, grasping the chain ever so lightly as the mystical coin dangled over the dark waters. More daja vu hit the young girl.
"I'll drop it," she boldly stated, facing the crew with a mood of full control. She felt their nerves grow unsettled as they watched the medallion like a cat stalking a mouse. This just might work, she thought
The captain looked particularly shocked, but covered it with smooth words and phrasing.
"Me holds are burstin' with swag," he said, referring to his overfilled treasure hold, for those who don't speak pirate. "That bit of shine matters to us, why?"
Kimberly gave him a discerning look and saw right through his lies, there was the same fear there that his crew was facing. He was a good liar, but couldn't escape his greed, like any of these men couldn't.
"It's what you've been searching for," she said knowingly, remembering the blue pirate's words. "I've seen this ship, I recognize it from... eight years ago when I returned from England."
And that's when it hit her completely. This was ship with black sails, the one that had destroyed that galleon, the one Ron had been on, and he had owned the medallion at the time. It all made sense now! Ron wasn't a pirate, but pirates were hunting him, and they wanted this medallion for its strange mystical properties... whatever those were.
"Do ya now?" Barbossa's sarcastic words snapped the girl back into reality. He was still refusing to talk with her seriously, time to resort to drastic measures. She smirked again.
"Fine," she sated carelessly, "then I suppose if it's worthless, then there's no point in me keeping it." And with that, she loosened the chain from her grasp very slightly and let it drop some. That was all she needed to do.
A chorus of 'no!' and grunts of protest came from the crowd as they all moved a step closer to the young woman, even Captain Barbossa was unable to stop himself.
Kimberly gave a mock look of surprise, but let it melt into the most arrogant smirk. Yep, she had them right where she wanted them.
Once the crew realized that they had been tricked into revealing their obsession, they all slowly began backing away, except for Barbossa, who strode over to the clever girl and chuckled menacingly again. The approach left Kimberly with an uncomfortable feeling, and she did her best to retain a strong look as she wound the medallion's chain around her hand and lifted the coin into her palm.
"You have a name, missy?" he asked with a whisper on his voice.
She took in a breath before speaking. "Kimberly..." she stopped before she could word her last name. They didn't seem know who she was, they didn't know she was the governor's daughter. Might be best to keep it that way. "...Stoppable. I'm a maid in the governor's household."
Barbossa suddenly eyed her with a different light, like he was sizing up someone he hadn't seen in years. The wild scrutinization just left Kimberly was sudden nervous feeling. He turned back to the crew with a mysterious smile.
"Miss Stoppable," he repeated to them, and the crew began gasping and laughing and talking amongst themselves, all wide-eyed and a little overly happy.
"Bootstrap," Kimberly heard Drakken say to his friend, and gave a confused look, unsure what to make of the phrase.
The pirate captain turned back to the redhead, still smiling. "And how does a maid come to own a trinket like that? Family heirloom, perhaps?"
The tone in his voice told Kimberly what he was playing at, and she clutched the medallion defensively, her eyes narrowed. "I didn't steal it, if that's what you mean," which was a lie in its own right, because she had.
But Barbossa seemed convinced nonetheless, and he opened his hand gently. "Very well. You hand it over, and we'll put your town to our rudder, and ne'er return." In other words, if she gave them the medallion, they would leave forever.
And for the first time, Kimberly wasn't so sure about this. After all, it wasn't even her medallion to trade, but it was really all they wanted, and they would never hurt her, or Ron, or anyone else she cared about ever again. Her remorse suddenly returned to Bates, who lay dead in her house, along with who knows how many others. No, she had to do this, for the future of Port Middleton and her family. The medallion wouldn't be missed by anyone but her, and it was a small price to pay for losing every burden that had come with it.
Nothing lost, everything gained, she thought, moving her tight fist above Barbossa's hand, and relinquishing her grip on the medallion.
It fell into his palm and he closed his fingers around it, rubbing the metal as Kimberly had done before, and she watched with disgust. Greedy blackheart, got what he deserved, she kept in mind that he got to handle whatever witchcraft was on that stupid necklace.
After a moment of examining the gold, Barbossa raised his arm and handed the medallion over to the monkey on his shoulder, whom Kimberly had barely noticed during the discussion. The simian took the gold in its little paws, then jumped onto a nearby rope and began making a steady climb to the crow's nest.
Kimberly looked down at the captain again. "A bargain?"
But Barbossa paid her no mind; he watched the monkey for minute, and then turned around, storming across the deck and barking orders to the crew.
"Still the guns and stow 'em! Signal the men, set the flags, and make good to clear port!"
The crowd of pirates quickly dispersed and started off to their jobs, making ready to leave. The redhead was baffled, and took off after the captain.
"Wait! You have to take me to shore!" Kimberly shouted, watching Barbossa as he continued to ignore her. She decided to take the knowledgeable approach again. "According to the Code of the Order of the Brethren-"
That was when the captain finally turned around, facing the girl with a look that said he was sick of her shenanigans. Kimberly stopped when she noticed this.
"First," he began with returned arrogance, getting right in her face, "your return to shore was not part of our negotiations nor our agreement, so I must do nothin'. And secondly, you must be a pirate for the pirate's code to apply, and you're not. And thirdly, the code is more what you'd call "guidelines" than actual rules."
For once, Kimberly had nothing to add to this, because he was right, and she had been tricked! He had used her very plans against her! She balled her fists in anger as Barbossa uttered those final words…
"Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, Miss Stoppable!"
As the captain took off again, the alleged Miss Stoppable was about to protest, and destroy Barbossa for all he was worth, when she felt a familiar two pairs of hands grab each of her arms and drag her away as she kicked and screamed, but after some time, gave up the fight.
She looked between Drakken and Lucre as they escorted her to the lower part of the ship and sighed. Yep, into the fire.
--
Thanks to chapter 7 reviewers Rsfan, Blu Taiger, Darth Comrade, Ace Ian Combat, DuffKilliganFan, Arya MageFire, spedclass, Josh84, Invader Johnny, CMY, and reader.
Any errors you may have found, please bring them up in your review. Thanks!
Next Chapter: Rationality and Freedom.