Hook - Hamilton

Prologue

(Warning: Pretty vivid mention of violence, loss of limbs, and cauterization. Read at you own risk.)
It was the dead of night. The crew of the Odyssey was asleep in the cabins below the ship's deck, and the captain in her quarters. Only four men were awake; three were preparing a rowboat that would take them to a ship about half a kilometer away, and the fourth was sneaking about the Odyssey. Their intentions were ill, and their minds determines as the men set about their task.
The man working alone scoured about in the scroll room beside the captain's quarters, trying to find the prized maps he had heard stories about. It was not long before he found what he was looking for, shamelessly pulling them off of their shelf and stuffing them into a netted bag, unaware of the noise he was making.
   
Jameson Moore woke to the sounds of heavy footsteps coming from the room next to hers. Swiftly but silently, the captain donned her boots and coat, both coming to a halt at her calves, but the former was black, as opposed to the latter's blood red hue. She retrieved her sword from her bedside, and stepped out of her quarters and onto the ship deck. Jameson began to walk towards the door, when she saw the knob turning. She moved behind a pillar, peering around the side in the hopes of figuring out who the person was. A man holding a bag of several scrolls stepped into the lights. Anger flared up inside of Jameson as she realized the scrolls he held were her prized maps, leading to treasure and bases she had kept hidden for the last seven years. She stepped out from the shadow, pressing the tip of her sword to the man's throat. He froze, eyes widening in fear.
"Thief," James growled. "You shall die for your crime," Her eyes widened as she suddenly recognized the face of the man. "Alexander?" Jameson's eyebrows knit together briefly before her gaze hardened. "You dare betray me!" She slashed her sword at him in a diagonal motion.
Alexander leapt back, narrowly dodging her attack, and drawing his own sword. He held it up defensively as he took a step away from the livid pirate captain. Jameson lifted her chin as she glared at the man, disgusted.
"I let you and your men board my ship," She hissed. "Allowed your men to stay in the quarters below. Let you dine with my crew, even inviting the four of you to eat with me in my quarters once. I have done nothing but extend my hospitality in your direction, and you repay me how?" She jabbed her sword at Alexander's chest. He dodged. "By stealing!" Jab. "My!" Slash. "Scrolls!"
Alexander blocked each strike with difficulty. Captain Jameson Moore was easily the best swordsman in all the seven seas. Those who had met her feared her presence, and those who had not feared her name and reputation.
"I showed you Pearl Caves, gave you all you required and more," Jameson seethed. "I trusted you!"
"A mistake made by many." Alex replied, jumping onto a wooden supply crate as the two continued to brawl.
Jameson slashed at his arm, causing Alexander to let out a cry of pain as her blade made contact with his bicep, leaving a sizeable gash. He stumbled slightly, dropping off of the crate unintentionally. James kicked him square in the chest, and he tripped over a broken plank. "One I'll not be making again, Hamilton." She sneered. Showing no mercy, James hefted her sword once more, slamming it against Alexander's, causing it to clatter to the ground. He tried to go after it, but James kicked it away, grabbing the bag of scrolls and ripping it from his grasp. She held the bag over the side of the boat, still pointing her sword at Alex.
The man froze. "What are you doing, Jameson?" He asked cautiously.
"I have every single one of these maps memorized, Hamilton. The only purpose they served was for my successor when I die," Jameson dropped the bag into the ocean, the current taking it away. "Even if you go after them, the water willed have washed away the ink, or at least made it illegible. And it's Captain Moore to you, you traitorous bastard."
Alexander's face contorted with rage. In his haze of anger, he brandished a knife from the strap of his thigh and slashed at Jameson's wrist, slicing her hand clean off. The hand that once held the bag of scrolls fell into the water. A scream of pain ripped itself from Jameson's lungs, no doubt awakening some of her crew.
Hamilton turned tail and ran to the opposite side of the ship, grabbing hold of a rope and leaping overboard into the escape boat where the three other men, John, Hercules, and Lafayette, were waiting to take him back to their ship.
Thomas was the first to reach the deck, sword in hand, trying to discover the source of conflict. But by then, Hamilton and his crew were already on their own ship's deck. Hearing his Captain let out another cry of anguish, he raced to her side. He grimaced at the amount of blood pulsing from the stump that once had her hand attached to it. Looking around the ship, he found a rag nearby and wrapped it around the wound in the hopes of cutting off her blood flow. With one hand, he untied the string that was holding up his hair and wrapped it around the base of the cloth to hold it steady. Thomas lifted Jameson up in his arms, carrying her over to her quarters.
Maria, the crew's second mate, met them at the door, eyes wide in horror at the state her captain was in.
"Fetch some matches and gunpowder," Thomas ordered. "The wound is too great, we will have to cauterize the wound." He set Jameson down on her bed as Maria ran off to retrieve the supplies they needed.
"If I die at fucking twenty-seven, we're going to have a serious problem." James said feebly, but not lacking the venomous tone caused by her newfound hatred for Alexander Hamilton.
Thomas looked at her. "You're not going to die, James. As great as Captain Jefferson sounds, I refuse to acquire that title if it means your death."
"Don't get soft on me now, Thomas."
"How is it, that even after getting your hand cut off, you're still a smartass?" Thomas asked.
Jameson gave him a lopsided grin. "'Tis a secret." Her attempt at a light hearted remark was cut off as she let out a groan of pain.
Thomas grabbed her remaining hand comfortingly. Sentiment was an emotion he reserved solely for his captain and a few members of the crew. Jameson saved his life. That was something he'd never forget.
Maria burst into the room with a jar of gunpowder and a box of matches. Thomas took them from her and set them on the bedside table. He proceeded to unwrap the cloth from Jameson's wound as she grimaced with pain. Unscrewing the lid of the jar, Thomas sprinkled a large amount of gunpowder onto the bloody stump. He set the jar aside and picked up the matchbox and pulling one out.
"I gotta warn you, Captain," Thomas said, waiting to light the match, "This is going to hurt more than the actual infliction of the wound. But cauterizing it is absolutely necessary for-"
"Just do it already." Jameson cut him off, wanting to get it over with. She gripped her bedsheets as she prepared herself for the pain to come.
Thomas nodded, striking the match across the side of the matchbox, setting it aflame. He pressed it against the gunpowder causing it to flash and sizzle, sealing the wound. Jameson let out a strangled scream as she writhed in agony.
Maria watched her captain with sad eyes. Seeing her long-time friend and commander in pain caused her chest to ache. Unable to watch, she grabbed the matchbox and jar of gunpowder and exited the room, making sure to harden her expression should any of the ship's crew be waiting outside the captain's quarters.
James Madison and Aaron Burr were standing near the main mast, looking miffed at the sound of screams coming from the room Maria had just left.
"Where's Lee?" Maria asked, noticing the other crew members was nowhere to be seen.
Burr scoffed. "The moment he heard sound of a fight, he hid beneath his bedsheets."
"The man ne'er was one for a brawl. It's a wonder Jameson's kept him around this long," Madison remarked. "Speaking of, what happened to the Captain?"
"Someone attacked her. She lost her hand, Thomas has been tending to her," Maria explained. "The screams were from him cauterizing the wound."
Burr grimaced. He'd experienced many battles and had wounds cauterized on multiple accounts. "Any ideas of who did it?"
Maria's gaze darkened. "See that's what I was thinking about. When I left the cabin, I did a head count. Thomas was gone, but so was Hamilton and his crew. I figured they all gone up to help the Captain, but when I get up to the main deck, only Thomas and Jameson are there. Hamilton and his men are nowhere to be seen." Burr and Madison's eyes widened as they realized what the second mate was getting at. "And I'll bet that if we were to check the sides of the ship, there will be a rowboat missing."
The three did just that, and sure enough, only three of four boats were present.
"Blast." Madison growled.

Back in the captain's quarter's, Thomas had wrapped Jameson's arm in gauze and pressed a damp rag to her forehead. The woman had quieted down, becoming used to the throbbing pain.
"I owe you, Thomas." She said softly.
Thomas shook his head. "You do not. You saved my life before, I am simply returning the favor." He insisted.
"Turning down the opportunity of a captain being in your debt? Some pirate you are." Jameson teased.
"Good to know you haven't lost your humor as well as your hand." Thomas said, pulling the chair away from James' desk and sitting in it. "Who did this to you, James?"
Jameson was quiet for a moment before she finally spoke. "Hamilton."
"That bastard," Thomas growled. "How did this happen?"
"It was all a ploy, Thomas. His crew boarding my ship, it was all an intricate plan to steal the maps."
Thomas stood abruptly. "He didn't succeed, did he?"
"No." Thomas sighed in relief at Jameson's word. "I threw them in the ocean. I'll make a new set. Hide them properly."
Thomas sat down again, dropping his head in his hands. "He may not have gotten the maps, but he did manage to beat you in one way. I can almost hear him boasting about cutting off the Captain Moore's hand."
"Not to worry, Thomas, he won't be boasting long."
Thomas looked at Jameson in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Jameson's gaze darkened. "Dead men tell no tales."

(A/N:And thus begins the story of Captain James Hook. I came up with this story a week ago around four in the morning, and I finished the prologue a bit ago but I needed to decide if I wanted to post it here or not. Clearly I decided I would. Not sure if I'll actually go through with it though. Stay tuned.)