Commodore Norrington was already regretting going on this "vacation" with the pirate, Jack.
"I assure you, commodore, Tortuga is the best place to look for a crew!" Jack insisted. "And we'll need the best crew we can get, if we're going to tango with the Black Pearl."
Norrington mentally translated that to "This is the best place to find gullible fools to go on this suicide mission with us! By the time they realize they've been duped, they'll already be way in over their heads."
Norrington wasn't going to quibble over the quality of their "hired" help, though. If he wanted quality, he would have just brought some good navy men with him. No, as cruel as it sounded, what he needed was expendable.
Still… Tortuga?
All of the hives of scum Jack could have picked, why did he have to choose the scummiest of them all?
It was closest, his logical mind supplied to him. Indeed, he couldn't deny that.
"Let's just get this over with," Norrington sighed. "I get the final say, though. If I veto them, they're not coming with us."
"Of course, of course," Jack replied with an annoying amount of good cheer.
…
Norrington thought that Tortuga smelled bad before they docked there. Now that he'd actually set foot on its accursed streets, he was getting the full breadth of its stink.
Not every town and city in the Cheribbean could be a shining example of cleanliness like Port Royal, he knew, but surely they could do better than human waste being dumped haphazardly in the streets?
He saw a wretched man wind up to hawk a wad of spit and snot in his general direction, only for the man to lose his balance, fall on his ass, then release the contents of his stomach all over himself.
The man's self-inflicted misfortune brought a smidgen of satisfaction into Norrington's chest. At least he hadn't been quite that bad when he tried to propose to Elizabeth. Well, er, at least he hadn't been trying to be that disgusting. That had to count for something.
Jack finished dealing with a small line of scorned women, the last two of whom made no attempt to hide the… interested looks they sent Norrington's way as they brushed past him.
Norrington might have been flattered if he could tell whether they were prostitutes or not. The vast majority of young women in Tortuga, so far, had been dressed much the same, and surely they couldn't all be ladies of the night.
Then again, it was Tortuga.
"Right then. With that taken care of, I know just the man who can scrounge together a proper crew on short notice!" Jack clapped his hands. "He shouldn't be too hard to find either!"
That's what Jack said, but they ended up wandering around for nearly half an hour. It didn't take long for Norrington to put together that they seemed to be passing by every tavern or bar in the city.
"If you're looking for a drunkard," Norrington began, not bothering to hide the disdain in his voice. "Then why aren't you going inside to check?"
"Because the man I'm looking for is more likely to have been thrown out and sleeping off his drink, than still getting drunk!" Jack explained patiently, as if it was a simple concept he was conveying to a child.
"Ah, speak of the devil!" Jack paused just outside of a pig sty of all things.
"Great," Norrington grunted with all the enthusiasm he could muster. It wasn't much.
Jack grabbed a bucket of water and approached the pair of boots sticking out from the other side of a sleeping pig. How Jack could recognize a man from that alone, Norrington had no idea.
*splash*
"Who in the bloody hell…?!" The man was at least quick to wake when startled. That elevated Norrington's expectations for him by half a notch… from rock bottom.
"Jack, is that you?" the man asked, voice tinged with disbelief.
"In the flesh, Mr. Gibbs," Jack smiled at him like an old friend.
Norrington froze for just a second, before marching around the bulky animal to get a look for himself. "Is that you, Gibbs Joshamee?"
Gibbs also froze for just a second, before scrambling to his feet and saluting. "Captain Norrington-!"
"It's commodore now, actually," Norrington corrected, taking in the absolute state of the man he once sailed with. His correction did nothing to relax the old sailor, who straightened out even more as he swayed on his wobbly legs. "I'm not acting within the purview of my command at the moment, however."
That did seem to relax Gibbs somewhat, though he kept shooting glances at Jack. Jack seemed perfectly content to watch things play out, judging by the smile on his face.
"With your skills, I'm surprised to see you in such a state, to be honest," Norrington gave his honest assessment. "What in the world happened to you?"
"Well, er…" Gibbs finally released his rather sloppy salute and scratched his sideburns. "I was a bit too fond of my drink to keep my commission, sir."
"Ah," Norrington understood. "That'll do it, I suppose. The navy has been more strict in the last decade or so."
He didn't mention that that was, in part, his own fault. Norrington had always been a proponent for greater discipline within the rank and file, and his voice held greater weight to that end the higher in rank he rose.
"If you don't mind my asking…" Gibbs said, oozing anxiety. "What is it that the two of you want with me?"
"We need you to pull a crew together, Gibbs," Jack decided to jump back into the conversation. He made a point to send a look at Norrington and continued, "But, nothing too unscrupulous, if you catch my meaning."
"Oh," Gibbs looked relieved that they wanted something that was up his alley. "What kind of funds are we looking at?"
Norrington almost balked at the question until he remembered that he was here in a personal capacity. Jack turned to face him, waiting for him to answer, because of course he would.
"I can pay standard rates, plus half," Norrington ground out, knowing full well this was coming right out of his own pocket. "We're after a pirate group that attacked Port Royal, so there will probably be some… ill gotten gains that won't be missed if we beat the Navy to the punch. No more than a few weeks."
Gibbs went deep into thought, muttering to himself. "Aye, I can work with that. I know a few good sailors that'll move, and plenty more to fill in the rest. You'll have enough to be picky, in any case. How many are you looking for?"
"No more than twenty. The ship is small and fast," Norrington confirmed.
"Aye, cap-, er, commodore," Gibbs nodded and stood there awkwardly for a moment. Then he was off.
"Well," Norrington said once the old sailor was gone. "I suppose that I can be a bit more optimistic, then, with Mr. Gibbs on board. I may not even have to worry about someone trying to stab me in the night."
"Wouldn't count on it," Jack denied without an ounce of shame. "People don't end up in Tortuga for good reasons. Best to keep an eye open when you sleep. They're not like me, can't trust them."
"I don't trust you any farther than a cannon can fire a shot without gunpowder, Sparrow," Norrington said.
"Ah, but at least you can see which way the cannon is pointed," Jack tapped his head.
"... That didn't make any sense," Norrington replied.