Chapter Text
By European standards, the governor's ball room was fairly plain, with clean-but-worn carpets barely covering the wooden floor and cheap tapers staining the wallpaper with tallow fumes. Still, James Gordon reflected, it was positively opulent by colonial standards. Gordon's own governor's mansion in Nassau had not been nearly as fine, even before the war had caused the Crown to essentially abandon the Bahamas to the ravages of pirates. Gordon scowled at the wine in his glass. He preferred a nice strong rum, but he supposed it was best to keep his wits about him tonight. The other guests, the elite of Charles Town, were giving him a wide berth, but this did not bother him. He was not here to socialize.
“Sir Bruce Wayne!” the steward called, and Gordon's head whipped around.
He was hardly the only one. Newcomers, especially ones of high social standing, were always popular topics of conversation, and this young man stood out from the crowd, perhaps deliberately. His clothing was fine and formal, but plain, and all in shades of black and blue. In contrast to the white wigs worn by every other man in the room, his dark hair was gathered at the back of his neck by a simple black ribbon, not even powdered for the occasion. As Gordon carefully picked his way through the crowd, he overheard people debating among themselves whether this should be interpreted as an insult to the governor, or perhaps it was simply the new European fashion. However, only one young woman actually approached Sir Bruce, and the two of them were engaged in a lively conversation when Gordon drew near.
“I believe I saw your ship in the harbor, Sir Bruce. The Batman, isn't it called?”
“Yes, it is. It's a fine ship, though a bit small for my purposes.”
The woman laughed.
“Why, it must be 500 tons! What on earth could your purpose be?”
Gordon decided that this was the moment to speak.
“To wipe out the scourge of piracy, or so I hear.”
The man and woman turned to him, and Sir Bruce smiled wanly.
“Quite correct. I do not believe we have met?”
“James Gordon,” he said, and extended his arm to shake. Sir Bruce only hesitated a moment before grasping Gordon's hand. He then turned to indicate the woman beside him.
“Mr. Gordon, I don't know if you've met Miss Selina Kyle, lately of the Isis?”
“I have not yet had the pleasure,” Gordon said, inclining his head toward Miss Kyle. She curtsied in return. She was finely dressed in a purple satin mantua with a round petticoat. Her black hair was done up in a plaited bun, and she wore a string of pearls and matching eardrops that stood out brilliantly against her sun-darkened skin. He knew that the gossip-mongers of Charles Town would be busy tomorrow speculating on her identity, and he wondered if that had not been her aim.
“So, you are here to fight pirates?” she turned back to Sir Bruce. “That sounds terribly exciting.”
“Oh, I think Mr. Gordon can probably tell you more about that than I can. Assuming that you are in fact the James Gordon who is the rightful governor of the Bahamas?”
“That's me. My family and I only recently vacated the islands when the situation became untenable. In fact, that is what I wished to discuss with you tonight, Sir Bruce. I wondered if I might be allowed to accompany you in your attempt to restore order.”
“My dear Mr. Gordon, I would be honored.”
Miss Kyle's green eyes sparkled as she addressed Sir Bruce once more.
“So, how does one go about hunting pirates?”
“Well, Miss Kyle, I'm afraid I can't reveal too much of my plan to a civilian, even one as captivating as you.”
Miss Kyle laughed again, a high, bell-like sound.
“Do you think I am a pirate, Sir Bruce? That seems unlikely.”
“Indeed, Miss Kyle,” Gordon broke in. “The fairer sex is too mild and gentle for such a barbarous business.”
Sir Bruce shook his head.
“I would not be so sure. Have you not heard the rumors of a female pirate captain, known as the Cat? It is said she is known as such because she likes to play with her victims.”
Miss Kyle's eyes widened and she gasped. Gordon felt the need to reassure her.
“Baseless rumors, Miss Kyle, nothing more.”
“Perhaps,” Sir Bruce responded. “Though it never can hurt to be cautious.”
Another man, about Gordon's age, silently joined Miss Kyle and she introduced him as Samuel Bradley, captain of the ship she was passenger on. Sir Bruce and Gordon both greeted him, to which he responded politely, then turned again to Miss Kyle.
“I apologize for interrupting, Miss, but I am afraid we must return to the ship. We are leaving quite early tomorrow morning to go to Jamaica,” he explained to the two other men.
“Your route will go through pirate-infested waters,” Sir Bruce noted. “If you could wait another couple of days, my ship would be glad to escort you.”
Captain Bradley shook his head.
“That is very kind, but I am afraid we are already running quite late and cannot afford to delay any longer. Our ship is very fast, so we will rely on being able to outrun any dangers we may encounter.”
“I certainly hope you succeed,” Sir Bruce said, bending to kiss Miss Kyle's hand. “I hope to see you again, milady.”
“Likewise,” she murmured. She and the captain said their goodbyes to Gordon and to their hosts, then slipped into the night. Gordon turned to Sir Bruce, who had a hard glint in his eye that had not been there when speaking to Miss Kyle.
“Fascinating woman, isn't she?” he asked Gordon, who shrugged.
“I suppose so. Is there anything I need to know before joining your crew? I would like...”
“Oh, we can take care of all that tomorrow,” Sir Bruce waved his hand lazily, the glint gone from his eyes. “Tonight is for fun and merriment!”
“Oh, well, I don't really...” Gordon began, but his excuses fell on deaf ears, as Sir Bruce led him onto the dance floor to find some partners.
***
“Well, Mr. Bradley, that went about as well as could be expected.”
“Indeed, miss.”
The two pirates made their way through the darkened streets of Charles Town toward the port, Selina Kyle – or Sally as she preferred to be called – with her arm hooked through Bradley's.
“Has all the cargo been unloaded and sold? And the proceeds distributed among the crew?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Good. I cannot wait until we leave this town. I am exhausted with pretending to be a lady of refinement.”
“You seemed to enjoy yourself tonight, though.”
Sally looked at Bradley, but he kept his face carefully blank, and even the intermittent light cast by lamps in windows could not help her decipher his thoughts.
“Yes, well. Sir Bruce certainly is... interesting. Smart, though perhaps not as smart as he thinks he is. Nevertheless, we would do well to avoid him in future.”
Bradley nodded, and they went the rest of the way to the Isis in silence. Once on the ship, though, Sally relaxed. She began to unwind her hair, and turned to Bradley.
“Make sure that the crew understands we will be shipping off for Harbor Island on the first tide tomorrow. We need to warn the others.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Bradley said.
Sally the Cat smiled to herself. If Sir Bruce Wayne thought that eradicating the pirate stronghold in the Bahamas was going to be easy, well, he was in for a rude awakening.
***
Captain Stickley of the small merchant sloop Forever watched nervously as the pirates who had unloaded his cargo onto their own vessel. He had taken one look at the blood-red flag that the pirates had been flying and surrendered without a fight. He hoped thereby to escape with his life and his ship. It was a good sign that the pirates were removing his cargo, because they wouldn't bother if they intended to take his ship for their own.
The pirate captain observed the last of the transfer from the deck of the Forever, then turned to its crew.
“Any who wish to join my crew may do so. Those of you with valuable skills will have no choice, but all others will be given the opportunity to stay here with your captain. I am not a cruel man.”
The mysterious captain smiled at the crew, but Stickley thought it a strange smile. It was too wide, and it didn't reach his eyes. He also appeared to be wearing the pale white makeup and dark red lip dye that had recently become all the rage in European courts. In this context, it was garish and unnatural.
A few of Stickley's crew volunteered to join the pirates, though not all. Stickley was kinder than most captains, and this bred loyalty in his crew. Looking around, he guessed that he probably had enough men left to get to the nearest port, at least.
When it became clear there would be no more deserters, the pirate captain had Stickley and his crew herded below decks at swordpoint, and the doors were locked behind them. Then, Stickley's men heard the pirates' voices.
“Burn it to the waterline.”
“Aye, Captain.”
The imprisoned crew began to shout and bang on the doors, demanding to be set free, but over it all, Stickley heard a high, cold peel of laughter.