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. It wasn't exactly [i]the[/i] truth...