With an ease born of long familiarity Will crossed to the railing in two swift strides and swung himself into the rigging, already flicking open his spyglass. The Dutchman pitched and rolled atop the waves as she came about in order to get the cannons aligned, making it hard to quite see the ship or its crew in detail. Will squinted hard, frowning, and hooked an elbow through the ropes to steady himself. A split second of steadiness granted him little more than the sight of cannons being readied. Not one man of that crew did Will recognize.

He shut the spyglass and swung down again, taking the steps up to the quarterdeck in threes and coming up beside Elizabeth. "There'll be cannonfire," he said, omitting preamble. "We could use you on deck. But William should stay below."

The little boy in question was gravely observing the nearing ship over the railing with an air of hostility, and looked as though he would be distinctly disgruntled to be banished belowdeck. Will did not even entertain the thought of letting him stay - Elizabeth he could not relegate even if he had wanted to, but a rain of cannonfire was no place for their son.

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Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, only to be cut off by another approaching crewman.

"Cap- err...Will," the crewman said hastily, doffing his hat. "Cap'n says you an' th' family are t' go belowdecks. 'E don't want you lot out 'ere if there's t' be shots exchanged."

"That's absurd! There's no reason Will and I can't-"

"Cap'n's orders, missus," the man interrupted with a shrug that looked a lot more apologetic than his tone suggested. "Mortals an' all that."

The common sense of this was immediately apparent to Will, much as he would have preferred to remain abovedeck. Casting a glance up at his father at the helm, he nodded and sheathed the saber in his hand. He'd barely noticed drawing it. "I'll get William."

Noticing his wife's less than pleased expression, he added, We're not immortal, Elizabeth." Halfway down the stairs to find small William he added under his breath, "Not anymore."

He didn't miss it. Elizabeth and their son beat immortality hollow.

William was diligently aiding one of the powder monkeys (a lad who could have been ten or ten hundred under his coat of grime, so difficult was it to tell) in loading a cannon. He was getting rather dirty himself, though of course he minded not a whit. Will chanced to catch a glimpse out the gun port - that ship was growing close.

"We're to go belowdecks, lad - this crew can't die, they're more help in a battle than us." Catching the cannonball in his son's grimy hands, Will gave it into the grubby waiting paws of the powder monkey and went, son in tow, to find them a safe berth in which to wait out the clash.

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Damon drew his pistol, checked it, then made sure both his knives were loose in their sheathes. A mixture of fear and excitement ran through him- even though he had been on the sea for years, this would be his first battle.

The ships drew nearer, and he watched Poseidon expectantly, waiting for orders.

First Mate Li happened to be busy at the helm, wheeling the ship around so that her starboard faced the enemy. The lot of the crewmembers were below decks on broadside, loading the cannons to all their explosive glory. What a warship the Earth Shaker was! His heart stilled in anticipation of experiencing her wrath.

Then he heard someone calling his name, and he instinctively whirled in full fury... milliseconds before a caustic insult would have landed him in the brig. He was no longer captain. He would have to remember that - for his own well being. In the short time that he'd known Poseidon - for it was indeed the august god who captained this ship - the deity had impressed him as an unrelenting soul, pretentious as the sea, tempestuous as the storm.

An embroilment with the god surely meant an embroilment with death - a losing one.

Thus it was that Heilong Li faithfully if grudgingly handed the helm over and descended the quarterdeck's steps. His stride was long, his demeanor imperious. He may not be captain, but that hardly meant sacrificing his dignity.

"What is it that you require of me, Captain Poseidon?" he grated, with a stiff bow.

-----

His marvelous captain's sudden departure caught Joshamee Gibbs flat-footed. He stared at the vacant spot for a while, before muttering something incoherent and hoisting himself up. He ventured hesitantly at first, peering both ways down the deck - Ah, mother's love.

Upon his first steps on the god-cursed deck of the familiar ship, he discovered two things. Firstly, sunlight hurt. Secondly, so did the cutlass poking him in the stomach.

He looked down and flashed an amiable smile at the not smiling Marty. "Why, 'ello there."

Within three seconds, he found himself surrounded by the rest of the crew. The amiable smile didn't seem to be working, but Gibbs kept it plastered on his face anyway. The only thing that hurt were his cheeks. "Why... 'ello there...?" His beseeching gaze slid from one crewmember to the next. Who would have guessed facial expressions could be so diverse? Frown, scowl, glare, smile. That would be Mr. Cotton's parrot - not wishful thinking, no sir. So what if parrots were incapable of that particular expression called smiling?

He cleared his throat and half-heartedly jerked a thumb at the captain's cabin. "Ah. I'm with Jack, I am."

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Lee followed Bootstraps orders and ran belowdeck to the cannons, and loaded them, but he awaited for the signal to fire. He looked out of the gunhole for the cannon and he saw the ship that they were up against - The Earth Stalker -, he believed the first mate called it. Lee looked around the rest of the crew members, and sadly, they all looked as eager as he did for some action, any action, of some sort. He sighed and listened intently for the commands.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Lee was getting excited, and ready to do something. He waited for orders, still, but he wanted to be above deck and see the action up there. He sighed and was yelled at by his fellows to be quiet so they could hear. He glared at them and contiuned to look out the port hole to keep an eye on The Earth Stalker.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

An audience with the captain? Poseidon had never struck him as a diplomat, but perhaps he had more gumption than Li had anticipated. He offered a curt nod of acquiescence and bounded back onto the quarterdeck. "Bring her around," he instructed the helmsman, a brute of a man but skilled in navigation.

As the Dutchman drew nearer, he shaded his eyes against the glaring sun and squinted onto the deck of the enemy ship. What he saw impressed him not. The Dutchman itself was a force to be reckoned with, certainly, but the sight of her captain deflated that hallmark. The Dutchman's captain looked old and soft, though appearances could be deceiving. He was obviously a man of the sea, and that alone deserved some iota of respect.

Li patted the unique deer horn knives at his belt - an act that reminded him of all the foes he'd conquered in his long career. Sedate, he drew himself tall and called out in lightly accented English, "Hear me, captain of the Flying Dutchman! My captain of the Earth Shaker respectfully requests an audience!"

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Barbossa quickly rolled up the map and tucked it back inside his jacket. He was loath to confess to Jack Sparrow that he was having difficulties and thus strike a blow to his own pride, but common sense dictated that outright lying would get him nowhere at the moment. "There have been...complications," he said at length. "But nothing so insurmountable as to be cause for despair. Why do ye ask?"
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Bootstrap arched an eyebrow slightly at the man's -he assumed it was the first mate- declaration. After a moment's pause, he turned to face Jim. "Have the men at ease, but make certain they're still ready, should anythin' go amiss," he ordered. "Maccus, Ho Kwan, with me."

The first mate saluted sharply, and moments later Bootstrap was standing behind Li on the deck of the Earth Shaker, flanked by the two crewmen he'd selected. "An' he couldn't have declared that without readyin' the cannons an' showin' every indication that he intended to attack?" he asked dryly in response to the man's earlier statement.

Lee heard the command that they had to go at ease. He sighed and he crept up near the stairs, so he could hear what was going on. His cannon was the first one and nearest to the stairs, so if he had to get back, he could do so quickly.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

"Jones is dead," Bootstrap replied flatly, carefully gauging the other captain's response. "More than a decade now." It never ceased to amaze him how many people had yet to learn of Jones' death. One would think that after a decade folk would start to catch on, but there was still usually at least one passenger who came aboard expecting to have to plead for mercy, only to find that Jones no longer lived. Not that this captain in front of him seemed the sort to beg for mercy, of course. No, he seemed more the type to harbour an age-long grudge against a ship and her long-dead captain and care little about which methods were employed to take revenge. Just his luck.

Drawing himself up to his full height, Bootstrap met the other captain's gaze evenly. "Captain Bill Turner," he introduced himself. "Any business you have with the Dutchman will be conducted with me."

Barbossa glanced sideways at Jack, regarding the pirate with an air of disinterest. "An' that would be?"
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"I'm captain by the commission o' the goddess Calypso," Bootstrap replied evenly. "Now, you requested an audience. With all due respect, we need to be on our way, so whatever business need be conducted, let us conduct it quickly an' without further delay."

Lee continued to listen to the talk as it unfolded. Why would the captain of The Earth Stalker want to talk to Jones? And how could they not know that Jones is dead? It has been a long time since his death and Will's and Jack's heroic deeds. You'd have to have lived in the Locker not to know! Lee thought to himself.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

"I ne'er expressed a disinterest, Jack," Barbossa countered. "Only a firsthand knowledge of your penchant for...avoiding key aspects of the truth. State your case concisely an' without falsity, or get out of my cabin an' let the crew do with you as they will. I've no time for circuitous talk."
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"An errand of great urgency," Bootstrap replied with finality. "If you've nothing more to say, we'll on our way now."

Barbossa appraised Jack narrowly, then slowly took the map back out, keeping it firmly in his grasp. "A temporary truce, then?"
_________________________________________________________________________________________
"There's no need," Bootstrap interrupted. Before Poseidon could reply, the two crewmen had disappeared into the side of the ship, and Bootstrap was simply gone.

Back aboard the Dutchman, Bootstrap immediately began giving out orders. "Get us out of here," he instructed shortly, trusting Maccus to follow him and listen as he made his way bellow-deck. "Leave a few men ready on the guns, just in case. I want Penrod up in the foretop with a spyglass to observe any movements of the Earth Shaker while she's still in view. Don't be too obvious about it, though; I jus' want to make sure we're not followed."

As Maccus hurried back up to repeat the orders to the crew, Bootstrap made his way over to the room in which Will and his family were still waiting. "Will?" he said, sticking his head in. "I think the threat of combat's over. Cap'n apparently just wanted a word with me." Or rather, with Jones. "Jus' thought I'd let you know it should be safe to come back out on deck again."

Will quirked an eyebrow at Elizabeth and took the steps up to the deck two by two - small William scampering ahead - to go to the railing. He scanned the Earth Shaker momentarily. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary, and no indication of pursuit. He turned to direct his father an inquiring look. "A word about what?"

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