Chapter Text
Penelope almost hoped the ship would hit a reef and sink before it made it to Port Quantico. A quick death on the high seas might have just been preferable to her current predicament.
Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be that lucky.
She watched the island and its bustling seaside town slowly rise over the horizon from her tiny port window bobbing just above the surface of the water, sitting on the bench in her cell in the hull of the commodore’s ship. No reefs in sight. Nothing coming between her and a jail cell - well, a real one, at least, seeing as she was already the proud occupant of this one.
For what seemed like the thousandth time since being brought on board that ship, Captain Penelope Garcia silently cursed her ex-second mate.
No, not just since being brought on board - since she’d first realized she’d been set up. And turned in to the authorities. At least JJ made it away , she reminded herself. That was really one of the only things keeping her going as she sat in her cell on the Commodore’s ship for days on end.
The other thing keeping her going was the thought of her ship, wherever it was, now under the complete authority of her cursed ex-second mate.
I bet she’s introducing herself as Captain Cat Adams, now. When she sails my ship into every port.
A sizeable crowd had formed on the docks of Port Quantico - military, government, and civilians alike - all of them ogling to get a better look at the grand ship and the infamous prisoner on board. News of Penelope’s capture must have spread quicker than she’d realized. She strained to get a good view of how many guns and uniforms would be on the dock, but, with her cell being back towards the stern, she couldn’t tell the number the closer they sailed.
Too many guns and uniforms, she deduced from the fleeting glimpses she’d snagged. So an escape wouldn’t be that easy.
Boots sounded on the stairs as the crew began shuffling frantically about on the levels above her, preparing the ship for docking. Penelope narrowed her eyes at the figures descending to the brig.
Specifically, the Commodore Prentiss.
“Welcome to Port Quantico, Garcia,” the woman said, her tone anything but hospitable. She was pretty enough, square jaw, straight black hair tied tightly at the nape of her neck with a bow. The cut of her long, thoroughly-embellished justaucorps coat had been adjusted slightly to the female figure, and her tricorne hat polished off her striking, authoritarian look. Penelope could respect a woman who knew how to look good while doing her job.
Except when that job was dumping her at the feet of the governor of Port Quantico. She was having some difficulty getting past that small detail.
She eyed the shackles in the hand of one of the lieutenants behind her. “And yet,” she said, “Something tells me my welcome isn’t going to involve a three-course meal and a proper bed to sleep in tonight.”
Commodore Prentiss flicked her eyebrows in a shrug. “Intuitive.”
“I am considered somewhat of a genius from time to time.”
“So I’m told. And yet here you are, captured and imprisoned in my brig.”
Penelope just pressed her lips together and said nothing. Not like any of that is of my own accord. This is all Cat’s fault. Two-faced manipulative guttersnipe…
“Rossi,” the commodore said to her lieutenant, “Shackle the genius’ hands and bring her to the deck. The governor will be expecting her.”
“Yes, Commodore,” the man nodded. His fellow lieutenant unlocked the cell door, and Penelope forced down the flicker of excitement that had flared in her chest upon hearing that glorious clank of the tumblers and faint squeal of the iron hinges. She put up no fight as the men slapped the shackles onto her wrists and pulled her to her feet by the collar of her jacket.
She couldn’t fight off the commodore, let alone an entire ship of what was no doubt her best men. Struggling would do her no good.
Later. Escape would come later.
Once she figured out just how the hell she was going to get out of this one.
The harsh sunlight made her wince as Commodore Prentiss led her out of the brig - and it was even hotter on the wide deck under that sun, as if such a thing could be possible. Penelope wished for her wide-brimmed hat, but it had been lost in the struggle that had put her in this position, leaving her with just her linen bandanna tied around her head. Maybe JJ managed to snag my hat, and has it with her…
She hit the gangplank and was forced to follow the commodore down it, into full view of the crowd.
No time to dwell on that now. I’ll be free to stew once I’m out of here and tracking Cat down. These are important moments to keep my head - it’s reconnaissance time.
Penelope swept her gaze over the crowd as they stared her right back, searching for the possible glimpse of a familiar face, or at least a face with some hint of sympathy for her state. She found none. Not one single potential ally. She didn’t let herself get too disappointed in that - the last place an ex-pirate would want to live out their civilian life would be Port Quantico, crawling with government officials and military men.
She did note one face among the crowd that wasn’t ogling her with morbid curiosity - a man, taller than her, a few rows back in the masses along the docks, close to where the governor and his family stood at the very end. His hair was cropped so close to his skull that Penelope could barely distinguish it from his dark skin. Nice eyebrows, though. Short facial hair around his mouth, too. He wasn’t ogling - his expression was surprisingly neutral. It was like he simply wasn’t interested in seeing the infamous pirate captain marched down the dock like livestock, like the other civilians were.
Penelope noted his handsome face and filed it away, her interest piqued. So if this man doesn’t care about seeing a prisoner… why is he here, I wonder?
Her train of thought was interrupted as the hands of the two lieutenants halted her behind the commodore as she stopped before the governor. Penelope couldn’t see the governor himself, but standing beside him with his hands clasped behind his back was a much younger man, closer to her own age and dressed very fine. A member of the governor’s family, then. This is quite a spectacle.
“Governor Gideon,” Commodore Prentiss nodded, her authoritative voice carrying across the wharf. “The pirate captain Penelope Garcia.”
At least she remembered my title, Penelope thought bitterly as she was shoved into full view.
The ruler of Port Quantico studied her. Despite being presented to him as a prisoner, a criminal, Penelope was somewhat surprised to see him look upon her without a hint of disgust or superiority. His wrinkled eyes were almost kind, though he didn’t smile. It was almost… like the governor pitied her.
Well. Fat load of good that would do her. She didn’t need the governor’s pity. Instead, while Commodore Prentiss began rambling off her various crimes and he nodded solemnly along, Penelope focused her attention on the young man by his side.
Pretty boy , was the first thing that came to mind. Tall and slender, with large, dark eyes. His brown hair was immaculately brushed and pulled into a tail. He looked somewhat uncomfortable - Penelope figured she’d be uncomfortable, too, if she was forced to stand outside under the baking sun in all those fancy, embroidered layers of his. Your generic run-of-the-mill politician’s relative. Definitely pretty, but pretty wasn’t particularly Penelope’s type when it came to men.
She hazarded a self-indulgent glance back at the man she’d taken note of earlier - now there was a fine man, if she’d ever seen one. But to her surprise, he wasn’t looking at her anymore, unlike the other civilians crowding around him to hear the commodore list her charges.
He was looking just beyond her. At… at the pretty boy?
She snapped her head back around to study him again. He wasn’t paying her any attention, either - and he was glancing in the other man’s direction from time to time. Returning his gaze, however fleeting.
Interesting.
Governor Gideon finally nodded as the commodore finished her spiel, drawing Penelope’s attention. “Captain Penelope Garcia,” he said, “For these crimes against the crown, your sentence will be execution, by hanging by the neck until dead. Until your execution, the prison of the fort shall be your residence.” He sighed, shaking his head. “God save your soul.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across her face. “I thank you for your concern, Governor,” she said, “But I’ve found that I’m typically rather good at saving my own soul.”
“Not this time, pirate,” Commodore Prentiss said, her gaze cutting to her. She glanced to her lieutenants, and the city guards who had shown up to accompany them. “Take her to the fort.”
There was a chorus of “Yes, Commodore,” before rough hands took hold of her arms and began marching her towards the haphazard street that would lead to her fort. But Penelope’s mind was already swirling with the information she’d gathered.
The female commodore and the authority she wielded with such dexterity.
The man on the docks, who deemed a member of the governor’s household - a man well above him in station, by the look of it - more worthy of his attention than a convicted pirate.
And the young man by the governor’s side, who didn’t seem all that opposed to the other man’s attention.
None of this, she realized, would be particularly helpful in forming a plan to get her out of Port Quantico’s clutches before her execution, of course, and that did put a significant damper on her morale… but at least she’d have some interesting people to pay attention to before the end, she thought morbidly.
She just hoped she’d be able to keep herself alive long enough to see what would come of them.