The idea of Jack Sparrow, the legendary Pirate Lord, the man who had supposedly escaped the locker of Davy Jones scrubbing a deck was a concept so absurd it left the crew in a state of stunned disbelief.
Gibbs and Billy exchanged a look of pure bewilderment. They knew Jack's pride. They knew he would usually rather spend a month in a Spanish prison than lift a brush for another man's hull.
"Commodore," Gibbs whispered, leaning in toward Hugo. "This is a bit... well, it's a bit much, isn't it? Jack is, after all, a man of a certain station. Making him do the work of a powder monkey is an insult that usually ends in a mutiny."
"He's a guest on my ship, Gibbs," Hugo replied, his eyes never leaving Jack. "On The Explorer, no man stands above the law of the deck. We have no kings here, and we certainly have no lords. If he wants to eat our salt and drink our rum, he'll sweat for it like any other sailor."
Hugo was testing the legendary captain's breaking point. He didn't need a cleaner; he needed to know if Jack's desperation for a ship was strong enough to suppress his ego. A man who couldn't endure a minor indignity was a man Hugo couldn't control.
The atmosphere turned brittle. The crew waited for Jack to explode, to draw his sword, or to leap back into the sea in a fit of pique.
Instead, Jack's face underwent a series of rapid, comical shifts before settling into a smile that looked like it had been painted on with grease.
"Scrubbing? Cleaning? Polishing the very skin of this beautiful lady?" Jack asked, his voice a frantic, theatrical trill. "Master Hugo, I am a man of many talents, and it just so happens that 'Sanitation Specialist' is one I've been looking to add to my resume!"
He lunged for a bucket and a brush, performing an exaggerated, flamboyant bow toward the deck planks. "For the privilege of staying in such fine company, I'd lick the barnacles off the keel if you asked me to! Consider the deck already shimmering!"
The pirates of The Explorer stared at him, their mouths agape. This was the Pirate King? He looked more like a performing monkey in a tattered coat. But Hugo saw through the performance. Jack wasn't surrendering; he was infiltrating. He was planting himself on the ship, biding his time until he could find the leverage he needed to seize the helm.
"Enough," Hugo said, stopping Jack before he could actually touch the brush to the wood. "I have men for the cleaning, Jack. And they do a better job than a man who spends half his life trying to remember which way is up."
Billy and Hanson straightened their backs, a flush of pride hitting their faces at Hugo's acknowledgment.
"Then... my dear, illustrious Commodore," Jack said, straightening his hat and dropping the brush. "What exactly do you require of your humble, salt-soaked guest? I am a master of the sail, a virtuoso of the wheel, and a legend with the blade!"
"I don't need you for the wheel, and I certainly don't need you for the fighting," Hugo said, his voice dropping to a low, cold hum. "I'm going to Port Royal. I need a shadow. I need someone who can slip past the Royal Navy, find the woman I'm looking for, and retrieve the item I require without a single alarm being sounded."
He looked at Jack, who was already vibrating with excitement at the mention of the harbor. "You know the fort. You know the guards. You are the only man in this sea with the specific brand of luck required for a silent heist."
Jack's eyes lit up. Port Royal was his destination, the place where he intended to "requisition" a new ship. Hugo's plan aligned perfectly with his own.
"Port Royal? A stealthy infiltration? A retrieval of a fair maiden and a shiny trinket?" Jack's fingers twitched in a rhythmic dance. "It's a specialty of mine. Truly. But... what is the fee for such a specialized service? A man of my... unique skill set doesn't work for mere gratitude."
"I'll pay you a hundred gold doubloons once the task is complete," Hugo offered.
Jack let out a sharp, mocking bark of laughter, shaking a finger in the air. "A hundred? My dear Hugo, you're trying to buy a masterpiece with a copper. I am Captain Jack Sparrow. My price is far steeper than a bag of coin."
"Then name it," Hugo said.
Jack's gaze swept over The Explorer. He looked at the black hull, the twelve-pounders, and the reinforced masts. He licked his lips, his eyes burning with a naked, unadulterated greed.
"I don't want your gold," Jack whispered. "I want... the ship."
He had finally shown his hand. He wanted the flagship of the Explorer Fleet.
The crew grew tense, waiting for Hugo to throw the man overboard for such an arrogant demand. But Hugo simply looked at Jack, a mysterious and unreadable smile touching his lips.
"Alright," Hugo said, his voice as calm as a summer breeze. "You can have the ship. But before I hand over the wheel, you have to do one thing for me."