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Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Uncharted Territory	By : canesfreak Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 1926 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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DISCLAIMER!! Once again, I do not own POTC or any of the Characters in it owned by Disney and all that Jazz! I own my Ocs (arent they awesome haha jk) and that�s that!

AUTHOR�s NOTE! Thanks to all who have contributed to the hit-o-meter on my story! I am really glad so many people are at least dabbling in reading it! I just wanted to say I always envisioned this story to be a pretty long epic-like tale in my mind, I have SO much planned for it, so if there are some of you who are like GUH get to the action already!! I know I know, but good things come to those who wait, my friends, and believe me it WILL get good, hot and steamy, and there will be Vanessa/Gilette mixed in as well, though I will say and tease no more! All I suggest is, keep reading, because I have a lot of development, action sex and romance to come! Peace!

Vanessa�s eyes darted from the Commodore�s to the things and people surrounding her. There were two men, closest to the Commodore, one flanking him on each side. Her eyes darted again to the many people behind them. Midshipmen, other Lieutenants, deckhands, and mere slaves, each one standing was extremely soiled, dirtied and looked horrid, no doubt by the stress and physical wear of battle, and, notably, one quite unexpected and undeserved. She turned her eyes even further behind the many men, and noticed the damage for the first time, almost suddenly, as if it all had just occurred. A bent foretopmast, or mizzenmast, in her haze, she wasn�t quite sure, was toppled over, putting strain on the one directly parallel to it, torn and holey sails near the bow, complete with ash stains, blackened and gray, most certainly from cannon and rifle blasts. Her eyes scanned around the ship for the next few moments, quickly glancing by the many dirtied masts, sails, chipped and cracked woodworks, broken poles, and collapsed architecture. She was sure it had been a beautiful ship, before she had contributed in part to it�s near demise.

With fear, and all her defiance gone, Vanessa let her eyes drift over to the distant bow, where in a straight line, she saw approximately 10-15 6-foot long boxes, wooden in make, and black painted. Makeshift coffins, a bronze badge placed upon each one. There were large bags too, complementing the sides of the casket, one for each one. If they came to no land in a timely fashion, at which to bury the caskets, the men would be lowered or pitched into the water, with weights, an accessory, like powder, or something else small to be scattered, and a simple prayer, a sendoff, proper but done quickly by their former crewmates. The dead would sink to the bottom of the sea in those simple black bags or wrapped in pieces of coarse cloth, never to be seen again, with only a simple condolence-laden letter home upon reach of shore to their mourning families. A corpse could only keep for so long, without causing stench or insect overpopulation, and especially in this hot and moist Caribbean climate. To make matters worse, on an already crowded Naval vessel, sadly, space and time were precious things to be kept great track of with the dead. And she could only imagine and further sicken her stomach with sadness and guilt with how many men and boys that must lie injured and being cared for by the surgeon or doctor below decks. So much mess, and for what she could see, faintly, staining the decks here and there, were the recognizably darker, reddish brown blood stain remnants from those dead or injured crew members, still there after a cleansing ritual of the rich, lighter shaded mahogany. Tears gathered in her eyes solemnly as she came to realization that her and the people of Toumgamay�s assumption of late the night before had been a deadly mistake.

She felt like collapsing upon the strain of guilt pressing against her heart, and nearly did, but she caught herself by grabbing a hold of the same rails she had snottily grabbed in confidence moments before. She and the others had killed. They hadn�t meant to, but they had. And it scared her to ponder what was next, and she scolded herself for acting so rude and selfish after seeing the very real hell that she with her others had wracked upon this British man-of-war. Enemy or not, the men didn�t deserve this, and it was permanent, those men would never return to their wives, mothers, fathers, children, siblings, etc. She let out a faint groan, and felt weakness take over her knees, but struggled herself steady as she realized there was to be nobody who would stop her if she fell, and she couldn�t and wouldn�t blame them a bit.

Her eyes went back upward to the Commodore, and his expression was icy. She could make out his expression with less clarity than before, as her vision was blurred with her salty, stinging tears. His understandably cold eyes had turned frigid yet again, worse than the previous looks within their short meeting, and with the cloudy sky, appeared a glazed blue. His frown was so pronounced and tight, Vanessa was certain his head might burst. Either that, or he�d reach over and slap her face until it bled. To her surprise, he did neither. He only stood and glared his eyes into hers, and kept his hands restrained behind his back. She gaped her mouth open and tried to find the words to say, but realizing she could not, she floundered there, leaning against the bars for leverage, mouth opening and closing like a helpless fish, she stayed speechless, nothing to utter for her rotten actions.

The actions of last night came back to her slowly, in a slow motion montage of violence, flashes and darkness. Supposedly, all she needed was a reminder. Her dense, stupidly airy, lusty and preoccupied self from a small time before needed only to open her eyes and look around at her surroundings. And now that she had, she was starting to know. Realizations and memories flooded back one after the other. The more time passed, the more they came. What she tried to remember before, upon waking up; the inquiries she had had about the happenings, were being answered now for her, at full speed and with great quantity. The classic case of being careful what you wish for, now played out and lived by Vanessa at those very saddening and anguish-ridden moments.

Screams and yelling, fear and intrigue. Victory and defeat. It all returned back, a little bit more with each blink of an eye that passed between the gazes of Vanessa and the Commodore. What memories had shamelessly evaded her earlier while looking out onto the sea the same morning, marched back into her mind, but were not welcome. She was shamed by what happened and at what she was seeing in her mind. She remembered her recollection of what side had won and how the battle had all ended. After seeing herself in the picture and action-laden memories of her mind, celebrating a so-called �victory�, she could barely recall a final blast hitting a target on the island, then resounding pressure upon her neck, and further, hearing and feeling shards of breaking glass upon her, accented by the fire and smoke coming from many targets hit on both sides of the fighting. And finally, everything went black. Nothing else could be remembered from that point. It was almost as if everything had come to a complete standstill in her memory, like she had wandered into a pitch black room, not knowing what course to take or where she was. She could not remember what had happened to make her lose her thoughts for so long until the Commodore in the coming moments brought up her and her peoples� offenses against them. Vanessa was still confused and unknowing as to how she arrived here on this ship without a struggle and with a lack of consciousness, but she had a notion that she would soon be enlightened.

�So you�re aware of what I�m talking about then, I take it?!� The Commodore persisted. He had gotten angrier and angrier the longer Vanessa had locked eyes with him. She found herself struggling internally with what to say and leaving him afloat in an ocean of silence. He had lost some of his composure to make way for the new waves of anger he was radiating, too, Vanessa could see. And now, with that most recent question, his face got a pinker, blood-rushed tone, and his voice, having lost it�s calm and composed qualities, was now on the verge of a yelling tantrum. Still stern, and still quite annoyed with her, he now seemed angry and very on the verge of Lord only knew.

�Your flagship?� She uttered. It was the only thing she knew how to ask, because she remembered it, last night as something else, a different ship entirely. At least, they had thought it was different. She realized from the moment that she let the question slip from between her lips that it sounded naïve and foolish, for it had become obvious when her eyes scanned the ship, that it, of course, was indeed his flagship. And her action by asking that question was very unacceptable because she had ignored the Commodore�s query and replaced it with her own, instead of answering it like she was expected to. She winced, thinking that she was in store for punishment on a whole lot of other things, one more offense as minor as this, her asking a stupid question was certainly the last of her worries at the moment.

�YES. MY flagship.� The Commodore began, trying hard to remain calm, collected and composed. His words were stern, serious and deep. The thick British accent shone through his demeanor and his answer with flying colors, and his eyes stayed trained with hers. With the morning�s sun stretching higher and higher in the sky, the ocean was reflected more into his gray eyes, making them more of an ice blue, like an earlier point in their brief conversation thus far. And it was getting hotter, and more uncomfortable, not only with the embarrassing and unpredictable barrage of non-niceties aimed solely at her, the only ne�er do well from Toumgamay on the Commodore�s flagship, but also from the rising temperatures of the shade-less sun. �How long did it take you to realize that�? He continued, retorting suddenly, almost in response to himself, or even in disgust to her silence, but clearly meaning it as a cruel blast to her intelligence. He was yelling now, his face getting redder than the last shade, even though he somehow kept his hands tensely behind his back. �That was good, too,� Vanessa pondered, �because if he let them come to the front, surely I�d be stricken by one, maybe both angry hands.� She couldn�t find an inch or even a centimeter�s worth of blame for him in her heart, however, and she knew when she was at fault. This was one of those times.

The staunch Commodore�s primary Lieutenants, his true and loyal primary and secondary, although at first making slight reflex-like moves to pipe in and do some pouncing or strangling of their own, stayed just as tense and angry-faced at each side. All the other crewmen who were able-bodied enough to be on deck, were, and kept their eyes trained on her as well, fists in reserve for her too, she didn�t take the time to doubt that.
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Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Uncharted Territory