things always go one way or the other

[commodore_jln]

It's more an effort to escape Sparrow than anything else that prompts James to push back his chair and shuffle his papers in order, quite ready to leave.  He won't take Beckett's coin, but it wouldn't do to do him the discourtesy of refusing his summons entirely; James may dislike the man, but he is a Commodore; he represents not only His Majesty's

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[commodore_jln]

Despite the fact that Sparrow's followed him to Beckett's office, James doesn't really expect him to continue following him into it. Presumably, after all, there was a reason Beckett hadn't told him what it was he wanted Sparrow to fetch him for. But follow he does, and James regards him with a hint of sceptecism as he sprawls languidly in a chair in the corner, ready to watch their conversation as if it was theatre. Beckett appears utterly unsurprised, but behind his eyes and on the edge of his voice as he greets James, there's an edge of steel that's clearly directed at Sparrow.

Who, equally, is unfazed.

James holds back a sigh. If this is going to turn out to be two unpleasant conversations at once, instead of just the one... But then Beckett speaks again, the tone of his voice one James recognises; it commands attention, and gets it, but it makes James bristle slightly nonetheless. The unspoken accusation is clear in his tone. That tch, Commodore, you're clearly not doing your job, if we have to step in to intervene. It rankles at his pride, that a merchant with delusions of grandeur should imagine he has any place to tell James how to do his job.

He doesn't have time to say anything, though, before behind him, there's an outburst from Sparrow. James's eyebrows lift, and he turns to give the man a withering glare. So he loves pirates, does he? The glare seems to have no effect, but when Sparrow does wilt slightly, James turns to find the cause of it a cruel smirk from Beckett. It sends an uncomfortable shiver twisting in his belly.

It's not much, what he's seen of these two, and what sort of a relationship they seem to have, but it's more than he ever wanted to see. It's unnatural, whatever it is. Not that he's particularly eager to think on that, though, and he turns back to Beckett with studied mildness.

'A worrying problem indeed, Lord Beckett,' he agrees, and his voice, though pleasant enough, easily meets the hard edge he can hear in Beckett's. 'Though I assure you, we have been exerting all our efforts. More pirate ships have been captured in the last eighteen months than in the decade previous.'

The last eighteen months, he doesn't say, is the time in which he's been Commodore. Beckett, he's quite sure, knows that already.

[captjacksparrow]

There's something hollow inside Jack that got carved a long time ago. Some empty place behind his ribs that's easy enough for him to retreat into, suspended, able to wait and watch and discover bits of information without without earning some smart rebuff twisted his way. He falls into that hole immediately as soon as Cutler gives him that slight warning to stay out of this.

Jack knows better than to betray anything to Cutler, knows that Cutler already knows what he is, what he could so easily become without the protection of the Company. But when Norrington makes his own comment, Jack flashes back to the welcoming gallows at the entrance to the port and his fingers go to his hat, eager to doff it in respect to those that died in the call to sea. He didn't removed it then, on that very first day, and he won't remove it now when nothing is the cause of it, but the impulse is a strange one still. Jack fidgets in the chair, struggling out of his quiet.

"Hence the title. Scourge of Piracy, our Commodore." Directed to Cutler, because Norrington's back is slightly less receptive than Cutler's smug stoicism.

The inclusion of our should get a response at least and it does, Cutler twisting a bit towards Jack before eyeing Norrington again in a new light. "Is he really? You won't mind me saying, Commodore, that your predecessors hardly set the mark very high and any pride you must feel in surpassing it cannot be very great at all."

A map covers one entire wall of the office and Cutler goes to it now, commanding all eyes to follow. Jack would be tempted to rise from the chair if he weren't so well seated. It has nothing to do with the way Cutler's voice drops, getting that hard chill that Jack hates. That makes Jack wonder sometimes.

"It's not the ships I want. It's the pirates themselves. What is it you always say, Jack? You can never tell when a man is about to do something incredibily... stupid?" Cutler's lips curl at that, like it's a joke, and when Jack says it, it is. A forgiveable mistake. Nothing to be done over it. When Cutler says it, it's a crime of the worse order. A cruel, harsh laugh to have over hanged men and ghosts. "I'd like to prevent as much idiocy from upsetting my new kingdom as possible."

[commodore_jln]

Beckett is barely even making a concession to civility, but James is more than equal to that; he knows how to fight with words just as well as he does with a blade. His tone, then, stays utterly neutral, showing no hint of the further wound to his pride at Beckett's words.

'If the bar is not set particularly high, my lord, than it must fall to somebody to raise it. A poor record in past is no excuse to maintain it.'

It's not just words, that, either. James very firmly believes it, and in the eighteen months he's held this position, he has done a great deal to raise that bar. And if not so very many more pirate's bodies have decorated the quay than before, it is because James is not a cruel man; he prefers to give a man a death by the sword than by a final dance with Jack Ketch.

He pivots slightly on one foot to follow Beckett's movement as he crosses to the massive map hanging on one wall. That, James cannot help but think, does not bode well. A mural-sized map installed on a wall of his office is not the mark of a man planning on staying for any short length of time. His words, though, are even more disturbing. They're cruel, as if he enjoys the prospect of those pirates' deaths, tinged with a delicate, sadistic pleasure.

Though death is his trade, in a way, the act of killing in itself is not something James has ever enjoyed. It's not something a man should enjoy, killing. Serving justice, yes, enforcing order through death, but never death for its own ends. One eyebrow lifts, cool and disdainful, as Beckett's eyes trail over his map.

'Your kingdom? Perhaps you forget, but a lordship does not make one a king.' He clasps his hands behind his back, tipping his chin up slightly so as to look at Beckett down his nose. 'May I ask, Lord Beckett, what precisely your business is in the Caribbean? Surely the East India Company should merely be concerned with commerce in these waters; your military influence, as I understand it, extends merely to the Indies and the Far East.'

Because it's true. Beckett and his company have no business trying to exert any military control over these waters. The Caribbean is ruled by the Crown, and its laws enforced by the Crown's blades and ships; here, the East India Company ought to have no business other than trade.

[captjacksparrow]

"Perhaps I spoke too broadly before. My business is, of course, simply business," Cutler says, back strengthening in an attempt to match Norrington' height. He continues but Jack fades him out, having heard before Cutler's vision for the Caribbean, how he plans to build up the Company as that is the way to power and the House of Lords and a ministry.

All things Jack wishes he understood less than he does.

He rolls his eyes and settles on watching Norrington, the line of his shoulders, the way he can trade tone for tone and pound for pound with Cutler better than most men living. At least most men still living. It will be a shame if it plays out that way, but Jack has no motive to intervene. Not when Cutler has promised him enough coins until the Wench can be his and Jack will be able to strike out on his own, away from the Caribbean and England or anything with a horizon.

That is until he filters in the last bit of Cutler's speech. Cutler has a way of making his voice go that demands listening, even when the listener is well skilled at ignoring everything around him for the sake of something pretty to watch.

"That is where you come in, Commodore. Tomorrow morning I am putting out a decree -- arranged with the Governor, of course. Every man, woman, and child found abeting or abling pirates will be found guilty of piracy as well and suffer the just, final punishment. I trust you shall do all in your power to enact this new law."

Jack's never heard that bit before. That's new. That's mad. Accidentally, a laugh shouts out. "You'll wind up with the entire bloody Caribbean backed up to queue for the noose."

Cutler turns a suspicious eye towards the window and Jack swallows back the laugh into something more of a chuckle. It only sounds nervous because Cutler is looking at him like that. "We can build larger ones to accomodate the influx if necessary."

That's probably a joke, Jack nearly sure. It's hard to tell sometimes with Cutler, his sense of humour edging towards -- well, not like Jack's at the very least. His eyebrows creep up the barest inch, though, giving it away, and Jack lets out his shaky relief. It is a joke. The entire thing.

Cutler smiles, adding, "Surely you under-estimate the people, Jack. Once they realise that such activity cannot be condoned and we have a stronger authority in place, they will fall in line."

Oh. Oh bugger. Not a joke. The smile more than the words gives it away. Jack tucks his chin to his chest as Culter goes on to mention his world without piracy.

"I expect you both to help in this matter," he is saying but Jack is not listening. Even if Cutler tried to do his voice thing, Jack wouldn't listen. His head is too full up on images of so many feet dangling mid-air. Cutler doesn't know the Caribbean like Jack does, this being his first proper visit. He doesn't get the same ache in his bones when it comes to practical things like death. Jack really hates practicality.

His name draws attention and Jack looks up to two sets of displeased faces.

"Jack, perhaps the material of this discussion is boring you. If you would like to wait in my chambers, I can debrief you on its important aspects as soon as I've finished with Commodore Norrington."

By "debriefing", Jack can guess Cutler means "arguging until you see my point", which Jack is either very good at or very bad as depending the perspective. He always manges to see Cutler's point sooner rather than later. It won't be any different now except --

Jack shifts his eyes to the left. Norrington had asked him barely an hour ago what Jack had to say for himself apart from Culter, and no one's ever asked Jack that. No one's ever particularly cared, including Jack. It might be possible to get his own way for once, with a little wheedling.

He purposefully relaxes his expression. "Perfectly fine here. I reckon the good Commodore could use some help sniffing out pirate-keepers and I know just the man for the job."

[commodore_jln]

It's not this new law of Beckett's that sets James ill at ease- though he can't help but agree with Sparrow, it is impractical- but rather his easy assumption of power. As if he had any right to dictate the law here. The man has no authority in either law or military, and yet he's proposing here to hang, as Sparrow says, nearly half the population of the Caribbean. Though that too sets James's skin on edge. He's an idealist in some respects, perhaps, but hanging women and children is not going to do anything to solve the problem with piracy in the Caribbean. It is rife here, yes, but wanton killing is pointless. And James would not see anyone hanged who did not deserve it.

'You've spoken to the governor regarding this matter?' He says it as if making sure. He can hardly believe Governor Swann was thrilled about this new law Beckett is proposing, but good man though he is, he's also easily swayed, and James can imagine more than one use for Mr. Mercer standing outside the door.

'Why was I not informed?' His voice loses much of its earlier neutrality. 'Governor Swann may be the representation of the Crown in the Caribbean, but any proposed change to the military here should have been discussed with me before anything was settled.'

Beckett seems to have a way of dodging laws and putting his own in place, and James will not hold for that. With the lack of any constant Admiralty here, James is the law, and that is a position he takes seriously.

[captjacksparrow]

Cutler doesn't seem pleased by Jack's suggestion, but then again it could be the line Norrington takes with him that makes his expression go all cool and blank like that. "I was under the impression that the military's view of piracy always was that it should be eliminated at any cost," Culter says, voice somehow managing to be easy and sharp all at once.

That's probably not the answer Norrington was looking for but Jack can't help the smirk it causes. It's true enough in Jack's experience, what Cutler says, the Navy being little more than men with a lust for treasure. And from what Jack's heard of Norrington, he the most obsessive one of the entire lot. Scourges don't get named for being particularly lax.

Jack studies him while he has the chance for it, Culter's attention not liable to slip to Jack for the next few moments. It's a strange objection to raise, one of power and who has it. If that's all Norrington is after, then all he will get is a power struggle and a meeting with Mercer. Jack has no interest in stepping in between that.

But if it's something else -- because it very well might be. The thing that doesn't fit about Norrington, or one of the things, is that in general everyone seems to like him. Jack can't hear a cross word about him even if he paid for it. And men who search for power are not men who go about in high public opinion.

It's a funny world for that.

"If the job's too great for you, mate, we could always find another Commodore wanting to put in through to gain the rewards," Jack offers suddenly from his perch, flopping a wrist in consideration.

If Norrington would rather give up the standing Cutler could bring him than follow orders, Jack might have more of an idea of how to start putting the pieces together. Decide whether or not power is the key, like it is with everybody who works for the Company, or if it's something else entirely.

[commodore_jln]

James remains easily stiff and upright as Beckett speaks, his expression cool and unimpressed. In reality, though, he's growing increasingly curious about who this Lord Cutler Beckett really is. Increasingly uneasy as well. He's skilled, that smooth tongue, the way he twists words; James recognises all the tricks he's using, he just doesn't understand why.

And James Norrington has never been a man who's done well with not understanding things.

Sparrow's words draw a sharp glance over to him, and James's eyes flick over him, the way he's sprawled so casually; far more casually than any gentleman should ever be in public, and his lips thin out. 'It's hardly an issue of rewards, Captain Sparrow.' And his voice positively drips with disdain on that word- rewards. 'It is an issue of justice. Who has the authority to carry out the law, and how it is carried out.'

He turns back to Beckett, the disdain replaced once again by faintly polite neutrality. 'As one familiar with this area and its people, Lord Beckett, I confess, I have doubts about the efficacy of your proposed plan. Hanging women and children will do you no good; all you will achieve in the end is the death of innocents.'

[captjacksparrow]

Not rewards then. Not for personal gain of power or money. Jack remembers the coins in Norrington's office, how Norrington has rejected them in the same matter he rejects Jack's implication now -- with distaste that borders on violent retching. Jack stretches in the chair, one knee hooked over the arm, and laces his fingers over his chest.

Very interesting, that. Almost everything with which Jack knows how to tempt a man is out the window at the loss of those two things. At least, everything he learned about the art of temptation from Cutler. It's an on-going debate between them, a silent one -- Jack's not even sure Cutler knows they're having it -- whether a man cares more in life than about money or power or pride. Norrington has pride, but so does every man. He must have something else, though, to make the game playable.

Every man has something else to him that Jack knows how to toy with, and with a sly smile he's about to suggest it when Cutler intercepts. Jack's teeth click shut, biting off the statement. "No different, then, than what the Navy already -- "

"Anyone consorting with pirates could hardly be found innocent," Cutler says quite smoothly, and Jack glares at him, both for the interuption and for the idea behind the words. Cutler seems fit to ignore it. "And as far as who as the authority in these waters, I believe that is no longer a question that begs any concern. With the pirates removed from the picture, there shall be only one dominating sea force. I should hope the Navy wants to be part of that."

[commodore_jln]

James chooses to ignore Sparrow's bitten-off slur; he has no need to defend the Navy or its actions to anybody, much less a jumped-up businessman with no concept of social graces. What's more important are Cutler Beckett's words. And James thinks he's beginning to get some sort of idea of precisely what sort of a man he is, if he'd hang children, and call them deserving of it.

Whatever sort of man that is, it's not one James wants holding any power in his waters.

He lifts his eyebrows. 'With respect, Lord Beckett, the Navy is the dominating sea force in this area of the world.'

The threat unspoken in Beckett's words does not go undetected; that should the Navy not want to be part of that dominating sea force- which is to say, ally itself with the East India Trading Company- things can be changed to force them to. Officers more malleable, or less honourable. Well, if Beckett thinks him that easy to get to, he's bloody well mistaken. If he imagines that he's going to stage some kind of coup here... Well, he doesn't know the Royal Navy.

[captjacksparrow]

"With respect, Commodore Norrington, they were."

Jack's gotten use, over the years, to being little more than decoration in a room for conversations. Not that he keeps to himself very well but there are moments that erupt, moments like this, where it suits him better to keep still and keep silent and hope when the blows come, everyone forgets to aim at the man imitating a rather dusty wall hanging. At Cutler moves towards the fire place, this seems more and more like one of those moments.

"The world is changing, bringing with it a New World order. The Navy's part in it is of yet undecided. I do think..." Cutler bends to poke at the embers with something -- a something Jack winces to see when it swings into the air, "a place for such an ancient instutution could be discovered. Only with the right actions afforded, of course. Otherwise, they too must fall the way of everything that stands in the way of progress."

The brand at the end of the poker glows white hot and Jack presses himself back into the chair cushion, doing his best not to draw any attention to himself lest that thing come near him. His skin burns at the sight of it, at sense memory rising up, and he focuses on Norrington, on something stable and hopefully unmoved by the threat. With his back to Jack, Jack's not quite sure if he manages it.

Cutler smiles, twirls the poker a little, and sets it back down in the fire. Jack tries not to let the way his muscles unravel into boneless relief echo too loudly in the room. "The decree goes into effect tomorrow morning at dawn. I'm sure you'll want time to prep your men. Good day, Commodore."

[commodore_jln]

Well, so much for unspoken threats. That threat is fully and unequivocally pronounced, and it sets James's hackles to bristling. The brand is an obvious prop, a theatrical point that Beckett is making. It's hardly as if he'd keep a pirate branding iron heated and ready at all times, after all, and James barely restrains the urge to sneer at it.

Beckett's a little man with delusions of grandeur, but the East India Company is a force to be reckoned with, James won't deny that. If Beckett wishes to establish them as an enemy, so be it. It's not how James would have it, but if Beckett sees himself as the leader of some kind of... New World Order, he gives James no other option. He will, of course, have to talk to the governor about this, and the Admiralty. Beckett's superiors and peers in the Company must be consulted- or confronted.

His face impassive, lips set in a thin line, he nods curtly at the obvious dismissal. 'Good day to you, Lord Beckett. I'm sure I will.' He pauses before he turns to leave, looking very obviously down at the other man. 'I'm glad we had the opportunity to have this conversation.'

And with a faint inclination of his head, he firmly exits the room. Mr. Mercer is still standing outside the room. Listening, James thinks uncomfortably, but gives him a nod as well, before striding off down the corridor. He doesn't know if Sparrow is following him and doesn't particularly care. He has things to think about.

[captjacksparrow]

Norrington shows signs of leaving, and Jack takes it as an opportunity to follow. He's become fairly apt at doing it and it would be a shame to break that pattern now. He knows Cutler and Cutler's designs, but Norrington's plans are the more important of the two right now. It's Norrington, after all, who could make life very different for any man sailing a ship in these parts.

Jack tries to leave without a word, to sneak out the door and entrap Norrington into a conversation before he can go very far, but Cutler stops him. "Not leaving so soon, are you? I was just to have tea brought in."

He sounds different now, calmer, less Commander and more London-bred boy Jack found it easy to be make friends with. He still stands by the fire place, close enough to the brand to make Jack wary, even though he shouldn't be. The only good thing that comes with being branded is that it only happens the once and then never again.

Jack hooks a finger to the door. "Though I should go -- "

"Nonsense. Commodore Norrington will come around in his own time. He will simply run out of the alternative options."

That's a line Jack would expect to hear with the man in question in the room but without his presence, the need to exaggerate gets taken away. That really means that -- "Got in with Swann already? Makes you wonder where his daughter came from then. Must get all that spirit from her mother."

"Jack." Oh, and that's a warning tone. Jack side-steps closer to the door as Cutler bares down on him. "I've already warned you about prying into subjects that do not require your" -- twists his chin up in a way that Jack could kiss him if he wanted -- "particular brand of skills. I would hate to need to repeat myself."

Jack does kiss him, hands kept to himself and just the dip of his mouth, because no, not exactly keen on going through this morning again. And if he protests any, he'll never catch up to Norrington. "No worries," he promises (lies), and smiles in a way to put Cutler at ease. "Might just go see how the crew's getting on. Didn't manage to check up on them last night."

"Nor will you be able to tonight," Cutler says, eyes slow in re-opening, and that's also a promise, a true one, and one Jack doesn't particularly mind to call honest.

"Ta, then," he says, and with another quick kiss, leaves Cutler to track down Norrington in the hall. It takes a moment to find him, Fort Charles being large and Jack not yet fully aware of Norrington's patterns of movement. He'll learn them quick enough with a few more days of study.

Eventually, Jack runs into him near his office. Literally, actually, collides, turning a corner without looking who might be in the way on the other side.

Jack braces a hand against Norrington's chest, pushing distance between them. "Steady on. Oh, you again." Like he wasn't just looking for him. He narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Not following me, are you?"

[commodore_jln]

James's head, as he makes his way back to his office, is full of the conversation he's just had, methodically going through everything he needs to do in order to at least forestall Beckett's plans of instating this New World Order of his. He's got glimpses of the way he seems to have made Jack Sparrow into some kind of twisted pet, and now it seems he wants to do much the same thing with the Caribbean.

Well. James simply won't have it, and that's that.

Beckett had said he'd cleared his plan with Governor Swann; James's first intent is to go and speak to him as soon as he can. Weatherby Swann is a good man; Beckett, he's sure, will have couched his version of things to him in polite words, perhaps even outright lies, for him to have consented at all. James has no doubts about his ability to get the governor to see the truth of things, and from there, they can move on to other authorities.

He's rounding the corner to his office, quite absorbed in thought, when a figure dressed in lace and brocade collides with him. James's hands instinctively go up to steady the other man, and an 'I beg your pardon,' is halfway voiced when he realises precisely who it is that's run into him.

He gives Sparrow a thoroughly unimpressed look. 'My office, Captain Sparrow.' He inclines his head towards the door. 'So really, I might ask the same of you.'

[captjacksparrow]

It's probably not an invitation, that little gesture to the door. In fact, Jack would wager a fine sum to say it isn't. But he's never gotten anywhere by side-stepping opportunity so when Norrington makes the motion, Jack presses his palms together in a little bow and throws out an arm to gesture for Norrington to unlock the door for them.

"Pleased to accept, mate. Seemed time for tea anyway, and we never did get to finish our earlier conversation."

The topic of which Jack can't quite remember now, other than it was entertaining him well enough to be sorry to see it end. Thoughts of gallows and pirate brands are too fresh in his mind for anything else to really stick.

"You're not going to listen to him, are you?" he adds quiety with a curious tilt of his head while he waits for Norrington to fish out the key and unlocks the door. It's not really a question, because Jack was present for that entire conversation and already has his answer, but he wants Norrington to solidify it for him one way or another.

[commodore_jln]

A little something in James's head sighs and starts bashing its head against the nearest wall at Sparrow's intentional misreading of James's words. He really, really has neither the time nor the inclination to spend any more time with Jack Sparrow than is absolutely necessary. But, perhaps if he indulges him now, he won't have to deal with him later, so he merely sighs, a tight smile stretching his lips.

'Tea. Very well.'

He's just fitting his key in the lock when Sparrow speaks, sounding genuinely curious, and James casts a sideways look at him. The door swings open, and he doesn't answer the man for a moment, merely looks at him after he walks through.

'You are his man, are you not?' He says, his voice once again finding the polite neutrality he used with Beckett. 'I should have thought you'd be asking me quite the opposite question.'

Although he's not sure that he would have. James has no idea how to process what little he knows of Jack Sparrow's relationship with Lord Cutler Beckett, and frankly, has no wish to. It's disturbing enough as it is.

[captjacksparrow]

"Already told you -- I'm no one's man," Jack says, and after a split second of waiting for Norrington to back off from the doorway, slips around past him into the office. He takes up his old position in the chair in front of Norrington's desk and props his feet up once more, deftly avoiding a stack of papers.

That's not quite the lie Norrington seems to take it to be, anytime Jack admits to that. It's not quite the truth, either, because Jack knows where the best for him exists and that's with Cutler rather than against him. But just because Jack knows how to take advantage of that doesn't mean he always necessarily agrees.

He'd rather know what Norrington thinks, anyway.

"So reserve the question. It weren't a bluff, you know, what he promised to do if you don't listen. He doesn't bluff."