Captain Jim Logan: A Pirates of the Caribbean Story, is a quasi reboot-prequel to The Logan Family Story, following the early years of James Logan. The story shall ignore the established history of Logan's character as to make more room for story telling possibilities.
"My dearest, sweet Katherine, I know it has been many years since I have written to you, since you relocated to Boston in the New World, but I write to you now, knowing my final days approach me, I write to you, my early days in the Caribbean, my highs, my lows, my triumphs, and my sorrows. I write to you, to tell you the story I have been dodging these past two decades, about how I met your mother, of how my greatest joy came to this world...you. I hope you receive this...memoir before I pass, but none truly knows where fate shall take them.
It all started, on any ordinary morning in Tortuga, July, in the year of our Lord, 1748.."
Logan stood in the dusty, abandoned cabin of his brother's former ship, The Florence, running his hand over the desk that stood at the center of the room, a bed hastily put together on the floor behind the wooden monstrosity, feathers bursting from the pillow. James chuckled to himself, picking up the near-empty bottle of rum out of one of the drawers.
"Never could finish a drink..." he mumbled to himself
Logan examined the coat hanger, positioned to the left to the desk against the wall, there, Victor's short black coat hung, a grim reminder of their childhood. Logan remembered convincing their father to purchase the item from a dandy during a visit to Havana some years back, it had always fit Victor perfectly, but it was always too big on Logan, looking more like a trench coat on him. Logan nodded to himself, knowing this was the last reminder of his brother that existed on the planet, just a week prior, Victor was killed via firing squad in Port Royal for his crimes against the King, in his will, Victor's belongings, all of them, went to James. His home in Tortuga, his ship, his weapons, his funds, but James did not want that, he did not want the life Victor had, of pirates, and treasure, pain and misery, he was a mere student working to become a banker in London, but the recent economic crash closed most of the banks, and with the death of Victor, Logan took the opportunity to come out to the Caribbean, possibly to start his own bank.
Logan made one last circle around the cabin, brushing his hand against the jacket, went a ring clattered to the floor, falling out of a hole in the outside left pocket. He investigated it, it was a small golden ring, with a rather large red jewel in the center, very beautiful, would probably fetch a high price at any jewelry shop. But something in the back of his head convinced him otherwise. Logan slipped it onto his left ring finger, and although it felt rather large at first, it was almost as if it shrunk itself to accommodate his size. Before he could investigate the ring further, there was a knock at the door to the cabin.
"Hmm, must be the Harbormaster," he thought, as he opened the door.
Instead of the old, fat, edge-of-death man of a Harbormaster Logan was expecting, he was greeted by the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid his eyes on. She was at least a full head taller then him, she had firey red hair, which was tied in a knot behind her head, she hadpiercing emerald eyes, and her attire consisted of black trousers and boots, a white undershirt, and a crimson vest, both emphasizing her amazing figure.
"I-uh..help you, can I?"
"Look, I'm going to keep this short, my ship was destroyed by pirates, I need a new one. The Harbormaster said this one was going to get destroyed anyway, I want to buy it off you. Just name your price." The woman said, her voice angelic, yet threatening.
"I don't-I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Trish. Trish Qetesh. Yours?"
"James. James Logan, I'm..the owner of this vessel."
"How much do you want for it?"
Time almost stopped dead in it's tracks, what could he do? He wanted this woman, he wanted to be with her at all times, there was just something so magnetizing about her, he knew if he sold her the ship, he would never see her again. If he denied her the ship, she would just go find another ship to purchase, and leave him with a hunk of wood he didn't want.
"I have another proposition for you, m'lady."
Trish raised an eyebrow at the statement, "Oh?"
"Please, take a seat in my cabin."