Officers Joseph Murtogg and Michael Mullroy kept watch at the entrance to the docks surrounding the Interceptor, taking advantage of the shade under one of the wooden piers. The smaller redhead leaned against the older officer, holding his hands out in front of his face, as Mullroy pointed out the shape between Murtogg's thumb and index finger.

"See that L, Joseph? It means left. And left is a shorter word than right—"

"Because right has those hidden letters"

"—Exactly. So left is shorter, and it gets the shorter word."

"Port." Murtogg said, a smile spreading across his face.

"Right. I mean—correct. Left. Port. Exactly." Mullroy nodded, and Murtogg smiled up at him, biting back a laugh, then both shot to their feet at the sound of footsteps above, then coming down the stairs. A thud accompanied the series of creaks as the thinner but taller of the two officers hit his head on the pier above, then, rubbing his injury slightly and walking into the sun, he said

"This dock is off limits to civilians." Joseph tried to look intimidating, but his slight frame, coupled with the fact that he was having trouble actually clearly seeing the intruder, thanks to the glaring Caribbean sun, made it less than effective.

"I'm terribly sorry" the stranger said, swaying slightly, which made things even more difficult for Murtogg, who watched him intently as he continued. "I didn't know. If I see one, I shall inform you immediately." The strange man tried to continue past Murtogg, but Mullroy stopped him as the younger officer stepped to meet the two of them again. The man, who Murtogg could identify now as a pirate, spoke again, gesturing flimsily with his wrist and swaying thoughtfully.

"Apparently there's some high-toned and fancy to-do up at the fort, ey?" He leaned closer and asked confidentially, almost tauntingly, "How could it be that two fine upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves did not merit an invitation?"

Murtogg responded with indignation, his brow furrowed over his wide eyes in that constant expression of concentration and thoughtfulness. "Someone has to make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians."

The pirate nodded solemnly and answered, "A fine goal to be sure, but it seems to me that a—" He took a half-step to the officers' left, but they shifted as well and via their body language and bayonets told him in no uncertain terms that he would not pass. The pirate took the hint, and simply swaggered in place as he continued his sentence. "—a ship like that" He pointed towards the Dauntless "makes this one here a bit superfluous, really."

Murtogg countered him again, looking over his shoulder briefly at the Dauntless, then back at the pirate. "Oh, the Dauntless is the power in these waters, true enough, but there's no ship as can match the Interceptor for speed."

The pirate put a finger to his chin thoughtfully and tilted his head back, then said, "I've heard of one, supposed to be very fast, nigh uncatchable... the Black Pearl."

Mullroy laughed and retorted "Well, there's no real ship as can match the Interceptor."

The smaller officer looked at him earnestly, for the moment forgetting the pirate standing there, and said, sounding slightly offended, "The Black Pearl is a real ship."

Michael laughed again, and, shaking his head, said, "No, no it's not."

"Yes it is, I've seen it."

Now Mullroy turned to look at the other officer and asked him, disbelief and laughter in his voice, "You've seen it?"

Murtogg nodded. "Yes."

Mullroy shook his head, laughing, and started to turn back to the pirate. "You haven't seen it."

"Yes I have"

The older officer turned now to face the younger fiercely, and said, challengingly, "You've seen a ship with black sails that's crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out?"

"No."

Mullroy nodded and grinned triumphantly. "No."

Murtogg added an argument hastily, though, that kept both of their attention from the now slightly exasperated pirate. "But I have seen a ship with black sails."

"Oh, and no ship that's not crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out could possibly have black sails therefore couldn't possibly be any other ship than the Black Pearl. Is that what you're saying?" The other officer asked him in retaliation and frustration, completely ignoring the pirate, as well as the fact that said pirate was silently boarding the Interceptor.

The younger of the two beamed, nodded, and said, "No."

Mullroy nodded knowingly and said as he turned back to the pirate, "Like I said, there's no real ship as can match the Int..er..." But the pirate wasn't there anymore. In fact, "HEY!" he was on the Interceptor.

Jack ran his hands over the wheel of the Interceptor and spun it idly, getting a feel for the ship, as the two marines scrambled over to the side of the ship. Murtogg leapt aboard, and Mullroy followed, as Murtogg shouted, "You! Get away from there!" Jack quickly took his hands from the wheel and held them, palms out, making a flamboyantly apologetic and innocent face.

"You don't have permission to be aboard there, mate!" Mullroy shouted as he and Murtogg held their muskets at the ready, bayonet-at-arms.

Jack bobbed his head and gesticulated floppily, saying, "I'm sorry, it's just—it's such a pretty boat. Ship."

Murtogg just asked intently, never lowering his musket, "What's your name?"

"Smith," the pirate replied, strolling out from behind the wheel, smiling. "Or Smithie, if you like."

But Mullroy didn't buy this. "What's your purpose in Port Royal, Mister Smith?"

"Yeah, and no lies!" the redhead chimed in.

Jack was finding this increasingly amusing, and nonchalantly he leaned in, one hand on the wheel, and said, "Well then. I confess, it is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise pilfer my weaselly black guts out." He finished with a bright, taunting smirk on his face.

Murtogg narrowed his eyes and shouted, threatening the pirate with a jab of his bayonet, "I said no lies!"

Mullroy turned to him and said in a slightly hushed voice, "I think he was telling the truth."

"If he was telling the truth, he wouldn't 'of told us," Murtogg reasoned, speaking as though he were explaining this to a slow child rather than an older and more experienced officer.

Jack was even more amused by this, and decided to torment then a little more. He leaned forward again, swaying, and said, "Unless, of course, he knew you wouldn't believe the truth, even if he told you."

***

And things had simply pulled under from there on. Jack had looped them into a hypnotic if sensational tale of his triumphant near-ruin on the island. Elizabeth had toppled off the fort and snatched away their master storyteller. Barbossa had attacked the port and snatched away Elizabeth. The young blacksmith-pirate had snatched away the master-storyteller-gone-prisoner, and the two of them together had snatched the Interceptor and sailed off to find Elizabeth. There followed more sailing, more snatching, and a good deal more canon shot and gunfire; and now, one jollyboat, one ship, 882 coins, several once-cursed now-quite-visibly-mortal hanged pirates, and one perfectly good rudder chain later, Mullroy sat vigil at the side of his friend, determined not to let him sleep his way into a concussed stupor.

"Yowp! 'Zat for?"

A noble cause indeed, and one that required carefully timed insistent prodding.

"The doctor told me that if you fall asleep for too long you'd not be able to find your way awake again."

"Oh." Murtogg rubbed his offended shoulder thoughtfully. "And that means you have to keep me from falling asleep?"

"That's what it means."

A thoughtful pause. "...Well do you have to poke me?"

"How else am I supposed to do it?"

Another pause. "...Dunno. ...You could talk?"

"That wouldn't keep you awake, mate. ... I know, what if you talk?"

"Me talk."

"Well yes. That way you'll stay awake, and I won't have to poke you. See?"

"...Yes. But... what do I want to talk about?"

"Um." They were both stumped and silent for a few moments. Then, "When did you see the Black Pearl?"

"Just yesterday, same with you. Why?"

"No no no, Joseph, I mean when did you see the Black Pearl before then. You said you'd seen it."

"...Oh. No. ...I said I'd seen a ship with black sails."

Mullroy sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. "Yes exactly. So why don't you talk about that?"

"Because you wanted me to talk about the Black Pearl."

"Jo-seph!" Mullroy sighed again and pursed his lips, then said slowly, "When. Did. You. See. This. Black-. Sailed. Ship."

"You mean before yesterday."

"Yes."

"And the day before."

"Yes! Before all of that, man!"

"Oh. ...Well I didn't."

"You didn't."

"No, not really."

"Not really?"

"Well, you know how it is, you see something and then there's a wave and some fog and then there it's gone."

Mullroy folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, lips pursed in cynical exasperation. "So was there a wave, or was there fog?"

"Both. Neither. Um... That is to say, the sun got in my eyes."

"The sun."

Murtogg nodded.

"On a clear sea?"

Another emphatic nod.

"Was the sun, perhaps, setting, do you think? Or rising?"

"S...setting. I think."

"And in the setting sunlight you saw a ship with black sails, aye?"

"Aye. It was rather... in the sun. Right in front of it. That's why I lost it."

Mullroy blinked a few times, unfolded his arms, rested his thick hands on his knees, and leaned forward. "In the sun."

Murtogg grinned and nodded brightly. "It was very pretty."

"Joseph Murtogg, are you in fact relating to me your notice of a silhouette?" Mullroy was trying not to yell in the infirmary, but Murtogg still flinched at his response.

"A what?"

Mullroy deflated, deflustered, and leaned back again. "The blackened, backlit form of a ... something. Anything."

"Well it might have been, I suppose. ...But I never told you I'd seen it, especially. And what I saw was black."

"But you didn't see the Pearl."

"Not necessarily, no."

Mullroy glowered and grumped for a few minutes more, then a change seemed to come over him, and he smirked a small smirk.

"What is it?"

"I win," Mullroy murmured.


...


My Two Cents: Yes, I know 'port' wasn't the term used at that time; yes, I know 'larboard' was. But... you know what? If Disney can call upon nasty yucky evil undead pirate zombies and fudge the time period quite spectacularly, maybe I can get a way with a little license on nautical vocabulary.