Full summary:

After the dealings with Captain Jack Sparrow, Miranda never believed to be drawn back into the dangerous world of piracy again. Until the arrival of new men subvert her life in more ways than one and she soon finds herself from a new adventure. As if her broken heart hadn't proven grave enough ordeal to handle, not but a year later everything familiar she'd started to believe in and hope to build her future upon proving to be completely untrue. Will's arrest and imposed death sentence but complicating the matters, the uncovering secrets eventually forcing Miranda to make a choice between family and love that might be lost to her, but which still lives on within her as strong as ever.

Somewhere in the Caribbean…

What was that awful smell, which continued to keep my conscious too aware of everything around me I'd so far tried to drown into good old crunk? Well only one lift of my shirt told me with amusing self-irony it to be me, me releasing a indifferent laugh for this notion as pour my cup full with that sweet nectar of oblivion to the edges. I fit right in there though, among that cluster of untidy, plastered low lives who had nothing to lose except their money in drink and women to bring them needed break from the world. Where I differed from the rest of the scum there that I didn't seek only fleeting memory loss, but eternal one. Maybe that was why I'd found myself entrenched into that hovel of thieves and murderers against all my reason, because of just that drinking it away. Sunken the lowest I'd even been, but a human wreck remaining. But I didn't give a crap, honestly. Maybe that was the time I could finally see the world in the eyes of the kind of human riffraff I'd always despised. As one of them, with scruffy, bruised looks. Hell, I probably looked like that wretched Sparrow while slouched in my seat, drunk.

The tavern was truly pure rathole, place for illegal gambling, where sods like me seemed to have only arrived there to drink and cause trouble to the fellow patronage. And the sight of my bloody knuckles, scratched face as well as my dirty, very unkempt appearance told everyone near me that I'd been there, done that. The wrong guy to mess with, and to stress that to every man bold enough to near my table I gave a murderous glare behind my tankard. Too kind of a person to give them an actual warning, really. Because regardless of my notably lowered care for the world other than the delusional one I wallowed in within my head, I wouldn't have liked nothing more than give a taste of my fists to each and every numskull present. But now I focused on the matters that mattered more than the lives of a few criminals. Closing my eyes as allowed another wave of pleasure to wash over me, take away the thoughts. My memories, all I wanted to get rid of. This stuff I'd bought from that Obeah woman at the street did its job, messing with my head completely. Keeping the undesirable, churning feelings at bay. Perfect.

The pub was but a room, too small for the amount of men packed inside, sitting at the crowded tables gulping down that terrible alcohol this place served. Due to the lack of space and fresh air moisture level jumping as high as my senses, the smell of me and the rest of this place explained rather reasonably. My shirt was soaking for sweat and my skin covered in drops, some water as well falling on top of me from the cracked ceiling. The walls covered in slimy grime not left behind my men alone, the air indeed thick with narcotics several people were smoking in their pipes. The light emanating from those few candles spread about on the walls seeming dark itself, making the tavern glow in murky color of grey and green due to the vegetation which pushed in from the walls. Thriving in that ideally warm and moist place, me releasing a breath as ripped my shirt open to gain even slight sensation of coolness. For nothing, me cursing out loud as grasped my drink, downing it.

I'd intentionally managed to keep my company limited to only me and my pity party, but though chosen a seat at the corner near the door where as little light as possible shone, I couldn't have been missed by that woman who'd appeared some time ago in search of her next customer. She seemed to fit right in as well, her appearance proving purity to be completely foreign concept for her. But nevertheless even I did my best to express how remarkably disinclined I was to receive her services, her disgusting presence soon found itself next to me. Her honey words drowning under the buzz in my head as I simply directed a pungent glare at her, grabbing her too friendly hands making their way toward my crotch before threw her away. The woman stumbling back against a barmaid in laughable dismay for my so straightforward rejection of her, my attention instantly drawn away from her back to my drink I noticed to be yet again too empty. After three bottles I still wasn't satisfied at the level of intoxication I'd achieved. This crap wasn't worth my money. But then again any tavern of this unknown island I'd winded up after weeks of drifting about Caribbean would serve as equally poor beverage. That's where the narcotic comes in.

Suddenly I see a shadow appear on my right side, coming to a halt at the other side of the table, starting to address me with a tone that says us to be very friendly with one another. Like we'd met before, though it receives no recognition form me.

"Can I offer a drink to the young sir?" it asks, me eyes glancing at it to see a man I most certainly didn't know. I couldn't make out his exterior that well due to the fallen dimness of the room, the least helpful aspect being my vision which wavered and saw everything in two most of the time as my eyes roamed over the man. But that moment my aversive attention was drawn to him I did separate the finer tailoring of his clothes. Whereas his features were unpleasant, conniving, his eyes too inquisitive as they momentarily met mine, and his altogether appearance was rather shabby. As if he'd spent a long time traveling seas without a chance to wash up like me, him now removing a tricorne hat covering brown, back tied hair and placing it at the bend of his arm. But in the end waking but negative interest in me I turned away from him, gulping down another swig of throat tingling alcohol.

"Bugger off. I got that covered quite nicely without your puny pennies."

I hope the most unfriendly tint in my voice makes the anonymous individual understand him to be one disagreeable answer away from becoming toothless. But as only silence responded I then flinch when something falls on the table with a thud, me inattentive gaze turning to see the man to have dropped a pouch right next to my forearm. The significant jingle emanated from within causing me to smile, as I keep on drinking nonchalant.

"Rarely do people pay me to kick their arse. But I guess you're just stupid then", I mused, amused even more. Not directing a single glance away from the pint in my hand. But this stranger's voice remains calm as it replies quite cocky.

"I have with me a proposition which I reckon to likely interest you."

I empty the tankard before turn, leaning forth to sneer at the man and his guts. "As intriguing as that sounds, I'll pass. You only came here to say that to have my guard lowered by buying me drinks, making me your mate by throwing yourself all friendly before eventually emptying my pockets. So no dice, pal. And as the good sir can see…" At this point I whistled loudly, throwing a coin to the Asian man behind the counter, who was quick to toss a brand new bottle of rum back as I locked eyes with my new unwanted acquaintance. "…I'm too busy tippling assholes like you out of my head to whoop you, so if you'd oblige me by leaving me alone with my companion."

I tapped the side of the bottle gently to make myself clear, no smile however rising on my lips to antagonize the man before I yanked the cork loose. Taking a long swig.

"So it appears. Nonetheless I'm afraid my employer isn't a man to take refusal as an answer", the stranger mused, apparently not taking the hint regardless of my rudeness. I scoffed.

"Who's he? King of thieves? Well you'd better find yourself another drunken bastard to coax, because I for one aren't drunk enough to sign up into your ranks."

"I highly hope for the opposite", the man stated, the corners of his lips rising as against all indications from me he took a seat across from me. His nothing but confident essence irritating me, causing my jaw to clench before I slammed the bottle onto the table. The anger I'd harbored deep inside of me ever since leaving Port Royal now once again overflowing, my left hand taking out a knife I'd kept prepared under the table in a blink of an eye. The blade soon enough sinking into the wooden table swiftly and forcefully, between this cocky scoundrel's fingers. Me leveling enraged leer at him, suddenly cleared from my intoxication.

"Go on then. I'm generous enough to give you a shot. Speak your business or I'll make you sing it. One finger at a time."

"I see my lord wasn't wrong about you. We could certainly use your unpredictability to our mutual advantage."

I smirked, grimly, the least amused of his still determined tone. "I must warn you. The more groggy my mind becomes the more dangerous I am to approach."

"And I know that after days of heavy drinking you've gone through you couldn't hit me even with that chair you're sitting on", the appeared man replied, in slight mock which ticked me off. My smile turning even more grim as ire bubbled under my skin in a familiar way, like when I'd prepared into a fistfight with some local rogues.

"Wanna try your luck?" I asked jeering myself, until it then hit me. His just said words, confusion causing me to frown incredulous. "How do you know that?"

"I've been watching you. Waited for a right moment to introduce myself to you, Mr. Martins."

"How do you know my name?" I queried, tensely. Narrowing my eyes as they drilled into the crooked nosed man, where he simply lifted his jaw matter-of-factly.

"We know a lot about you, sir. More than even you know about yourself. About your father, your sister."

The mention of Miranda caused me to flare up again, me jerking the dagger from the table to point it directly at the man's neck. My eyes but icy granite as they locked with his the second time, him staying completely calm even my sharp weapon rested upon his carotid artery. But a flicker of my hand needed to kill him.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, my own voice trembling for rage. "This employer of yours, how in hell does he know about me and my family?"

Our eye contact remained for a few more seconds until I was honestly taken aback by this stranger, him causing me to frown this time for surprise as he grasped the blade with a bare hand. Flipping the weapon skillfully away from his neck before it ended up into his possession, my own useless proved hand falling down in astonishment as I watched him place my dagger on the table. Not even attempting to raise it against me, only returning my stare calm as ever. His ghost of smile reappearing after the fleeting grim expression.

"All will be explained, sir", he reassured, me leaning back with stiff movements, following his every move vigilantly. In case he did try something and was only trying to hoodwink me. "…But though I was sent here to find you Mr. Martins, my employer wishes to have a chance to speak to you directly."

We exchanged another stare as I thought about his words, my seething anger surprisingly decreasing a bit by bit. And after awhile I then only frowned again as instead of indeed launching himself at me the man pushed his hand inside his coat. Me next following him to take out a letter and a fancy stamp from a pocket concealed within the lining, at this point truly sparking my interest as these objects were handed to me. My eyes hardly sweeping over the stamp before falling to examine the seal pressed on the letter.

"We are in need of your services, Mr. Martins", he stated as I broke the seal. Starting to read the letter which for my as great amazement had been addressed to me, devised with handwriting and signed by a name unfamiliar to me, not ringing a bell. But it was the contents that caused me now to straighten me back, all irritation vanishing and replaced by serious features as I skimmed the lines for a few times to made sure had I understood right. The revelations and indeed presented proposition contained in that letter in fact shocking me. Frown stuck on my forehead, me noticing from the border of my vision how the messenger smiled at my reaction in satisfaction.

"While we wait for your groggy mind to decide, how about that drink to convince you of the beneficial influence working for us has to your military career? And this money…" he slid the pouch over the table to me, my irises peeking at it thoughtful. "…let's call it your first, and may I add, very munificent reward should you be willing to consent to our suggestion and hear more about the nature of our operation."

I stopped reading, my expression very earnest as my gaze rose to stare at the man in silence. Me gauging at him and the credibility of this abrupt situation, until in the end took hold of the bottle again. Snapping my fingers to get another pint, instead offering him that drink by pouring some beverage for the man.

"I'm all ears, pal."