Gibbs discovered their destination with a sinking feeling in his gut.
He stood hunched over the chart table, one hand braced against the wood as the ship gently rocked beneath him, eyes narrowing as the familiar coastline markings resolved into something he very much did not like.
"…Damn it," he muttered.
Jack Sparrow stood at the helm, one boot hooked casually over the railing, hat tilted just enough to look effortless. He was humming tunelessly, swaying slightly, bottle of rum dangling loosely in his left hand.
Gibbs marched up beside him.
"We can't go there," Gibbs said flatly.
Jack didn't look away from the horizon. "Can't is such a strong word."
Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're heading to Arabasta."
Jack blinked. "Oh."
Then, after a moment: "That explains the sand."
Gibbs stared at him. "You knew?"
"No," Jack said cheerfully. "But I suspected something unpleasant."
Gibbs leaned in, lowering his voice. "Arabasta is a World Government–affiliated kingdom."
Jack grimaced. "Ah. Bureaucracy."
"And," Gibbs continued, even quieter now, "rumors say King Cobra of the Nefertari family is directly related to the Celestial Dragons."
That got Jack's attention.
He turned slowly. "You're telling me the Nefe-what-ever Cobras are… celestial pigs?"
Gibbs sighed. "They didn't stay in Mary Geoise. They came down. Ruled a kingdom instead."
Jack's face twisted in visible disgust. "Well that's just dishonest branding."
He glanced at the compass in his coat, fingers brushing against it through the fabric.
"So," Jack said slowly, "if they're so… elevated… why did the compass bring us here?"
Gibbs opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"…The compass is broken, Jack."
Jack stared ahead, eyes narrowing just a fraction. Whatever answer the compass wanted, they were already too close to turn back.
"We keep our heads low," Jack said finally.
Gibbs deadpanned. "You are physically incapable of that."
Jack smiled brightly. "You know me so well."
The Black Pearl docked at Nanohana beneath a blazing desert sun.
The port-town was alive—merchant ships packed the harbor, sails of every color fluttering in the hot breeze. Cargo was being hauled, perfume crates unloaded, voices shouting in a dozen accents. The air itself was thick with scent—sweet, floral, almost overwhelming.
Ragetti gagged. "Smells like a flower died and cursed us with its ghost."
Nanohana—the "Little Flower" of Alabasta—was a melting pot. Traders from across the seas. Pirates too, though carefully watched. Jack noticed the guards immediately: alert. Pirates were allowed here, but only here.
One wrong move beyond Nanohana, and the kingdom would act.
Jack tipped his hat lower.
Pintel stayed aboard, arms crossed protectively over the gold. "If anyone touches this," he muttered, "I'll scream."
Gibbs and Ragetti headed for the banks, with Gibbs grumbling about exchange rates and suspicious-looking clerks.
Jack turned to Augur. "And you?"
Augur adjusted his coat. "Weapons shop. Ammunition. Maybe attachments."
Jack nodded. "Practical."
Augur hesitated. "…You aren't coming?"
Jack smiled. "I'd hate to distract you."
Augur narrowed his eyes. "That's suspicious."
"A wise man once said," Jack replied, "time is money. And one shouldn't waste money."
Augur stared at him a moment longer, then shook his head. "Be careful."
Jack saluted lazily as Augur walked away.
The moment he vanished into the crowd, Jack's smile evaporated.
He pulled out the compass.
The needle spun.
Then pointed.
Jack followed.
Jack Sparrow walked through Nanohana like a man guided by destiny—or alcohol.
He wandered through markets without noticing stalls, bumped into camels and apologized to them, nearly walked into a spice merchant's fire pit before being dragged away by an angry vendor. At one point he stopped to argue with a cactus because it "looked judgmental."
The compass never wavered.
Jack drank.
He followed.
The city thinned. Streets became paths. Paths became sand.
Hours passed.
Jack didn't notice.
By the time he realized the buildings were gone, the sun was already dipping low, casting long shadows over endless dunes.
Jack squinted.
"…Huh."
He turned around.
Nothing but sand.
He checked the compass.
Still pointing.
"Well," Jack said to no one, "if you wanted me dead, you could've been honest."
He trudged onward, boots sinking slightly into the desert floor, humming again. A vulture circled overhead.
Jack waved at it. "No rush."
Back at the docks, Gibbs stood on the deck, arms crossed, jaw tight.
Jack was late.
Again.
"How shameless can one man be?" Gibbs muttered.
Pintel peeked over the railing. "Should we put up missing posters?"
Ragetti nodded seriously. "With a reward?"
Pintel suddenly remembered, "Isn't that basically a bounty poster?"
Augur returned, jaw clenched. "I shouldn't have left him."
Gibbs shot him a look. "You think?"
Augur exhaled sharply. "I'll get him."
Gibbs nodded. "We'll wait here."
As Augur stepped onto the dock and disappeared into the city, the sun dipped lower over Nanohana.