"Two paces, march!", a solder called out as the others, now divided into two columns, obey the order. "About face!", the soldiers obey and turn, now facing each other, and Norrington makes his appearance at the end of the line. "Present arms!", they once more obeyed. The commodore walked between the two columns of soldiers, and he moves towards the presentation area where Governor Swann was waiting for him. With choreographed precision, Swann removes the sword and scabbard from its case and presents it to Norrington. Norrington accepts the sword, executes a flourishing salute, first to Swann, then to the officers, and to the audience. 

Meanwhile, at a dock, the mystery woman made her way down, trying to cooly pass two marines who were on sentry duty. When she was about to saunter passed them, they were immediately alert, running up to block her path. "This dock is off-limits to civilians", one of them told her. "I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t know. If I see one, I shall inform you immediately", she cooly said with a hint of innocence in her accented voice as she tried to move around them, but they blocked her again. How was she going to do this? Now, she knew. 

"Apparently there’s some sort of event up at the fort, right? How could it be that two upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves, did not merit an invitation?", she half-curiously asked them. "Someone has to make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians", the other marine responded to her. "And that's a fine goal, sweetheart, but it seems to me, a ship like that", she gestured to the Dauntless in the distance. "...makes this one a bit downgraded, really", she commented while gesturing to the Interceptor, perched at the dock. 

"The Dauntless is the power in these waters. But there’s no ship that can match the Interceptor for speed", one of them said to her as he talked about the ship. "I’ve heard of one, supposed to be very fast, nigh uncatchable...the Fancy", she gave a breathed out the name. Clearly, they were confused. Not ringing a bell. "A ship with torn, black sails. Captained by a man, who's so evil, that hell itself spat him back out", she told them with grim in her eyes. 

One of them scoffed. "No", he chuckled with amusement. "It's a real ship, you know", the other told him. "I've seen it. Black sails, it had", the other turned to him. "Oh? And no ship that's captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out could possibly have black sails, therefore couldn't possibly be any other ship than the Fancy. Is that what you're saying?", he patronized him. None of them noticed the woman slipping past them unnoticed as they continued to argue. "No", he answered. 

"Like I said, there’s no ship that match the Intercept..", he trailed off when he noticed that she wasn't there. Looking around, they spotted her standing at the wheel of the Interceptor, casually examining the mechanism. "Hey! You!", she looked over at them with exaggerated, innocent surprise. They hurried towards her and raised their guns at her. "Get away from there! You don't have permission to be aboard!", they told her. "I’m so sorry, it’s just...it’s such a pretty boat. I mean, ship", she innocently corrected. 

"What's your name?", one of them asked. "Smith. Or Smithy, if you like", she responded casually. "What's your purpose in Port Royal? And no...lies", they demanded. She just smiled coyly with charm. "Alright. It is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise, pilfer my weasely black guts out", she answered with a bit of a ramble. "We said, no lies!", one of them told her. "Think she's telling the truth", the other said. "If she were telling the truth, she wouldn't have told us", the other argued. "Unless, you wouldn't believe the truth even if I told it to you", the mystery woman cut in as they seem to consider it. 

After the ceremony, Commodore Norrington approaches Abigail, oblivious to her struggling. "May I have a moment?", he asked her while extending his arm, wordlessly asking her to take it. When she does, he walked her away from the party, toward the parapet of the fort wall. "I must admit, you look lovely, Abigail", he complimented her. "I apologize if I seem forward, but I must speak my mind"