~Five Days After Enies Lobby's Destruction~
With the many adamant supporters of Absolute Justice assigned to the New World, Sengoku could finally enjoy a semblance of the stress relief that the Marines' medics had ordered, despite the continued fallout from Enies Lobby's destruction. But it was soon to be shaken; while many miles away, Jeremiah Cross was formally refounding Marine Integrity into the New World Masons, another conversation of earthshaking potential was underway in the highest of Marineford's pagodas.
With Akainu in pseudo-exile, Kizaru still recovering, and nobody else of their rank available, Aokiji alone was present as the Elder Stars spoke to Sengoku. Given that the Fleet Admiral was almost hyperventilating, the Logia was currently doing what he could to ease Sengoku's nerves. It helped only enough to ensure that he wouldn't be suffering another heart attack while he glowered at the snail.
"Why… in the world… would you suggest we wage war with one of the Four Emperors… when we've just been crippled from tangling with a group of rookies!?" Sengoku incredulously demanded. "We do not have the resources to attempt a full-scale war with Whitebeard, and if we tried mustering our forces now, I bet my life that half of them would resign instead, whether of their own volition or spurred on by that loud-mouthed brat!"
"Fleet Admiral—" the voice began again.
"I don't give a damn that he's Roger's son! Keeping him imprisoned or trying to execute him will cause more harm than he could produce if he were still at Whitebeard's side! You can't make me agree to—"
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku, stop insulting our intelligence. We know."
The Fleet Admiral fell silent, as much from surprise as the sharpening glare on the line.
"Under no circumstances are we going to allow Roger's son free now that we have him in prison where he belongs," the Elder Star stated without a hint of give, which drew an aggravated scowl from Sengoku. "But we are acutely aware of how much damage has been done, and that we cannot hope to win against Whitebeard as things stand now. We need more time to recover and build our resources."
Sengoku leaned back slowly, his temper cooling a scant few degrees. "Very well. What are your orders?"
"Keeping Whitebeard's followers in a comatose state will deceive Vivre Cards to the state of their health, and we will use a gaol ship to keep them at sea level; the depths of Impel Down would be too conspicuous. We will keep them hidden for however long it takes to build our forces back to the point where we can stand against Whitebeard. Then and only then will we announce the newest Warlord in our ranks, the imprisonment of the Spider and Witch, and the execution of Fire Fist. Until then, no Marine ranked lower than Admiral shall be informed of any of this."
Sengoku sighed, the tension bleeding out of him. "…I apologize for jumping to conclusions," he ground out, barely managing to keep his tone even, mildly respectful.
"As you should. However, we will still require a contingency plan."
Sengoku's body tensed again, and he very deliberately limited his response to a simple "Yes?"
"We must be prepared to assemble our forces at a moment's notice. It will only be as a last resort, but should news of their capture somehow reach the ears of any of Whitebeard's allies, we run the risk of allowing Roger's son to slip through our grasp. Provided that you maintain secrecy, we should have nothing to fear."
Sengoku ever-so-slowly relaxed once more and closed his eyes. "…so be it. We'll focus resources on fixing the damage from the Straw Hats' assault. Scrutinize all communications surrounding the gaol ship. And I'll keep our strongest forces rotating near Marineford; in the face of Enies Lobby's destruction, it should raise no suspicion."
"See to it, Fleet Admiral. KA-LICK!" And with that, the connection closed.
Sengoku shook his head with a weary huff as he started mentally arranging formations. But first… "Aokiji," he ordered, barely glancing up at the Ice-Man. "Return to the containment of Fire Fist and his allies and maintain their state. Ensure that no harm comes to them and that operational security remains airtight. You have unrestricted authority; do whatever needs to be done."
Aokiji nodded in solemn acceptance and stood to leave. "Yes, sir." He ambled to the office's door, hand poised to let himself out… and paused there, standing silent for a small eternity, before slowly turning his head over his shoulder. "Sir… I feel compelled to ask a question."
Sengoku glanced up from his paperwork, an irritated expression on his face. "Of all the times for you to actually show some life… What?"
"Fleet Admiral, given the circumstances and potential consequences of our actions, I feel compelled to ask…" Aokiji set his jaw. "Should Fire Fist Ace… really die for the crimes of his father?"
Sengoku's fist slammed down onto his desk, his scowl intensifying and his expression contorted viciously. After a moment, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, before giving Aokiji, of all people, a thoroughly chilling stare. "Do not lose focus now, Admiral. It is not, nor has it ever been, a matter of whether or not he should die. But rather, Portgas D. Ace must die."
The Fleet Admiral refocused on his work, dismissing the Admiral with a wave. "That is the last I'll hear on the matter. You have your orders, now go."
A chill of frost briefly crept over the office's door-handle, but just as swiftly it passed. "Understood, sir," Aokiji nodded tersely. And with that, he departed, and the matter fell dormant in Marineford… though not in the Ice-Man's heart.
-o-
When the Transponder Snail disconnected, the Five Elder Stars exchanged glowering looks.
"It is sickening that we have been brought to this point. Enies Lobby's destruction on its own is nothing; a blow to our pride, a reduction in our resources, but nothing that would necessitate anything but an increase in their bounties. But this problem has become absurd," the youngest of the five sneered.
"It is impossible enough for a transceiver to have survived the purge. Vegapunk despised our orders, but he followed them to the last," the tallest mused as he stroked his beard. "Nothing survived, and the likes of the geniuses capable of designing such a device are few across the world. It would take recklessness to the point of insanity to entrust such a device to an erstwhile unknown like Jeremiah Cross."
"The boy is reckless to the point of insanity himself," the katana-wielder grumbled, patiently tapping a finger to his temple. "By broadcasting the invasion, he invited us to send our best forces against him to support CP9, knowing that he couldn't match them. Yet they escaped, and he, along with that insufferable Spandam, has done the unthinkable: they've scarred us. A no-name rookie pirate and one of our own men have torn the veil."
"Our choices are limited," the mustachioed member grumbled as he rubbed his hands in thought. "The talk of freedom will become more and more widespread the longer that he speaks, and this debacle has cost us the chance to eliminate them directly; another broadcast of this magnitude would push us to the point of no return, and martyring them would turn too much of the world against us at once. As satisfying as it would be, Sengoku made the right choice in stopping Admiral Akainu from burning down Water 7."
"The Straw Hats claim that they beat the world." The cane-wielder tapped his oaken staff on the tile. "The only thing that they've done is guarantee that we will fight again. And when we do, no amount of luck or skill will allow them to walk away. Orders will be sent to Akainu in the New World to recruit replenishing forces from every island that he visits, and we will monitor the Straw Hats' journey for anything that we can exploit. We will bide our time, build our resources…"
His demeanour and that of all the Elder Stars darkened significantly. "And when the time comes to put an end to Roger's line and to Edward Newgate, Absolute Justice will become the only justice. As for the whistleblower… for once, Garp's eccentric whim works in our favour. With him proudly accepting the blame, we can issue Jeremiah Cross the highest starting bounty in history. If we're lucky, some random ignoramus with more bullets than brains will make our lives all the easier for base recompense."
"You will forgive me if I find our recent track record in matters of chance to be… less than encouraging…" the blond grumbled despondently.
~Present~
"Remind me, which of us was speaking about fortune so long ago?" the blond Elder Star scoffed, grimly watching corsairs trade blows with individuals who rated only slightly higher than the black flags they fought.
"Not. Relevant at the moment," the mustachioed Star ground out impatiently.
"Indeed," the sword-bearer nodded sagely, his eyes closed, and expression pinched in intense thought. "The question of the hour is how we intend to handle this situation. As it stands, the Straw Hats have a non-negligible chance of passing the blockade. We always knew this maneuver would be a stopgap measure and that they would pass eventually, but we never predicted they would manage it on the first clash. So… the question stands: should we leave Komei's orders unchanged…"
The gi-clad man cracked an eye open and regarded the image of the Thousand Sunny and all upon it with the intensity of a Sea King considering its prey.
"Or should we cut our losses here and now, and order Komei to give Straw Hats an opening?"
A contemplative silence stretched out between the five for interminable minutes… until ultimately, three of them shook their heads in denial.
"The time is not right," the tallest stated firmly. "Our resources have recovered, and recent events have served to enhance our capabilities, but not to the extent that we need to be truly ready for the war. To attempt our stratagem now would be folly."
"And their reputation aside, this blockade was specifically designed to be capable of facing down the likes of the Supernovas," the mustache-wearer groused. "It would smack of suspicion, not to mention incompetence, if the Straw Hats came through."
"And there is also the matter that they would most likely assist 'Black Bart' Bartolomeo's crew to consider," the cane-wielder mused in an almost idle fashion. "As well as how we can only surmise what alliances have been formed between them in the meantime; open a crack, and they would not stop before they'd made it a chasm."
A silence fell.
"…And finally," the youngest started slowly, uncertain of the idea he was about to air. "I'm assuming it's because it's doubtful the blockade could actually stop them if we gave them express orders to?"
The still air of the chamber was shattered by the sound of a single splinter cracking out of an ancient cane. "We," the cane's owner ground out, livid fury tinging his every word. "Are not. Determining the Straw Hats' actions. To be a fait accompli."
None of the other Elder Stars commented on their comrade's breach of decorum.
Nor on the tinge of uncertainty that had entered his words.
-o-
"AND THEY'RE OFF!" Itomimizu declared as Chuchun banked after the fleet, flapping and banking furiously to try and compensate for the Knock-Up Stream's updraft. Putting up a pair of binoculars, he scanned over the ships. "All ships that didn't sink and managed to surf off the tsunami are off to a fantastic start, but currently, early lead goes to the Barto Club's Cannibal!"
"Heheh, yeah, well, temporarily having three times the sail-to-ship ratio of anyone else will do that," I quipped, eyeing the shimmering barrier Barto had erected on the bow of the Cannibal. It was effective, true, but if the way he was laughing while the rest of his crew scrambled to hang on for dear life and maneuver them properly, he'd be dropping it soon.
"But right on their heels is the Straw Hats' Thousand Sunny!" Itomimizu continued. "And a ways back, but gaining is the Kid Pirates' Iron Tramp, belching all kinds of smoke! Looks like the paddle ships are proving themselves as the design of tomorrow!"
"Yeah, but they'll only chug AS FAR AS THEY'VE GOT FUEL AND WORKING PARTS! Good for a burst, NOT SO MUCH FOR LAYING DOWN PURE HURT. CHECK IT," Soundbite gestured his eyestalks downward, where the Tramp and Sunny were indeed stowing their paddles and decelerating. "They've got the leads they wanted, but now they're drawing it out for the long game. STILL NECK-AND-NECK FOR SECOND, BUT EVERYONE ELSE IS STILL IN IT TOO."
"As for everyone else…" Ito nudged Chuchun to swing about and start sweeping over the rest of the fleet as he squinted to get a better look at the flags. "Well, looks like most of the frontrunners are made of the Supernovas, as well as a few others such as my very own Silver and Brass Foxes—"
"The former thankfully rechristened from the cringe-inducing name of 'Sexy Foxy,' though I dearly hope you didn't reverse the titles," I cut in, cringing at the name.
"I will have you know that I am now known the world over as Fiendish Foxy!" Foxy smugly cut in. "I may have lost to your monster of a captain, but I still pushed him to the brink! And there's not a thing you can say to me that will belittle—!"
I gave Soundbite a flat look as I chopped my hand across my throat in a request for a moment's peace. "You only got that name by begging the Divine, didn't you?"
I took way too much pleasure in the way Soundbite's facade crumbled. "It was going to be either that or Split-Head Foxy…" he whimpered in utter misery. Said whimpering is what met the viewers' ears as I unpaused the broadcast.
"Sorry for the cut there, everyone; what I said to bring him down was a little too caustic for a public broadcast," I gloated, smirking smugly.
"…as I was saying," Itomimizu continued, his teeth grinding together in a forced grin. "My crew's ships are part of a nice clump about a kilometre behind the Iron Tramp. Another two kilometres behind them is the main mass of pirates, jockeying for position!"
"And behind those scrubs are the wrecks," I cut in, grinning as I buffed my nails on my chest. "Pro tip of the day: combat power is nice and all, but seamanship is just as important! And keep those anchor cables maintained!"
"Right you are, Cross," Ito concurred, nodding sagely. "I'd say we've got about nine pirate crews permanently out of the race and pretty busy trying not to sink on top of the poor bastards caught in the whirlpool."
My grin widened a bit more; honestly, I'd expected more dismastings and collisions right at the start. I wasn't kidding when I referred to the tail-end Charlies as 'scrubs'; only a few had bounties above even thirty million. I guess Nami's briefing only got through most of the skulls present. Pity.
Still, I'd gotten a nice thrill of schadenfreude with what we did get, and as it stood, we still had more than enough warm bodies to ram into the blockade.
Meanwhile, Itomimizu was still going. "And with the race settled down for now, I'd like to invite my gracious co-host to explain our little starting booster!"
"Gladly," I replied, sweeping my arm out in a grandiose gesture. "Well, as my good viewers may have guessed, there are perks to knowing a weather witch and a wind Logia. It took a bit of practice, but they were able to combine their powers and whip up one hell of a wind. How are you holding up, ladi—ERGH!?" My commentary was cut off by an invisible force that blindsided Chuchun into a tailspin. "Hey, what was that for!?"
"To get a word in edgewise here," uttered Vivi. "Until you've experienced getting your arms wrenched out by the entire universe, go suck on a duck egg, Cross. I already have a migraine from this, and you're not making it any better!"
"Got you covered, Vivi," Chopper piped up. "Thanks for this, by the way. You're really helping my research."
"Yeah, no pro—wait, what do you mean research—?!"
"Vivi and Chopper, everyone, doesn't my crew just say the darndest things?!" I chuckled as I hastily chopped my hand across my throat to cut the connection. Though I don't think we managed to cut the pink-laced mini-twister that blasted up from the Sunny's deck in time. "Anyway, while Vivi and Nami are maintaining our momentum, we've got our friends in the Great Kung-Fu Fleet to thank for the initial starting turbo-booster! Everyone, give those loveable dugongs a hearty round of applause!"
"Belay that applause, Cross!" my co-commentator waved me down, suddenly intent on the horizon. "We've just run into our first obstacle!"
I followed his gaze and frowned, as indeed we had.
-o-
Crocus grimaced at the sight of the lone three-masted ship utterly dwarfed by the pirate fleet facing it. Behind him, Laboon let out a pained warble. The said ship wasn't turning and running; instead, it was charging in, bowchasers booming.
Closing his eyes, Crocus clasped his hands together. "Lord of the seas, forgive them," he huffed wearily, saying it more for the sake of saying it than anything else. "For they know not what they do."
"Yeah, that's a privateer, alright," Itomimizu noted with barely-concealed venom. "Looks like it's going for the Supernova cluster, which I really don't get. This isn't normal privateer behaviour. Every true-blood buccaneer hates their guts, but half of that is because the bastards have the survival instinct of a shark. They wouldn't be charging the strongest of a generation, they'd be going for the weakest parts of the pack instead."
"Well, from what I've heard, the Marines have decided to provide some… incentive for them to press the attack," Cross tsked, kneading one of his temples in irritation.
"Guns to their heads?"
"At the bare minimum."
"Hang on, THEY'RE ALMOST in gun range."
Indeed, as Crocus watched, the splashes from the privateer's bow chasers were now landing among the nearest edge of the Supernova cluster. The fire was also finally provoking a response: one ship, sporting castle crenulations, a castle Jolly Roger, and some of the biggest cannons Crocus had ever seen, was tacking from near the center of the ragged formation right to the edges.
More gunfire bloomed from the privateer—and this time, one shot rang true, a cannonball smacking right onto the nose of the ship.
An impact that did absolutely nothing as the cannonball literally bounced off the stone-clad prow.
"…OK, I've seen fortified ships before, but I wouldn't expect that kind of no-sell unless it was thanks to Black Bart's barriers!" Itomimizu exclaimed.
"Well, it only makes sense that someone like Bege would know fortifications! A fact that goes both ways, as we're about to see!"
And indeed, the pirate ship's two bow chasers did a hell of a lot more than 'nothing' in return as they blasted out a simultaneous barrage. One cannonball missed, 'merely' tearing a large hole through the privateers' sails, but the other smacked into its opponent's bow and kept going in a stream of burst seams and flying plankage. The destruction ended about three-quarters down the length of the poor ship, leaving it wallowing in the sea, at which point the pirate ship turned to present its broadside and opened up. Four more cannonballs burst from their barrels, and of them two hit; one dismasting the ship and the other caving in the keel right where it ran up the bow.
The last broadside was just plain overkill; the hapless ship sagged in a great many important places, and a large chunk of the deck was suddenly blurred into obscurity.
"The heck…?" Crocus wondered.
"And first blood goes to the Firetank Pirates' Nostra Castello!" the Foxy's announcer pronounced. "I don't think those privateers are going to be trying anything anytime soon. I almost feel sorry for them. And yes, folks, that blurring is on Cross' order; trust me, I can see what's behind it, and it is not for sensitive stomachs!"
"Yeah, well, no matter the gore or… let's go with 'thoroughness' involved, it looks like that's a pyrrhic victory for the Firetanks," Cross noted sagely. "They got the kill, but now they've fallen a bit behind the pack."
Indeed, despite some furious tacking and maneuvering, the Nostra Castello was visibly a few hundred meters behind the rest of the Supernovas when it returned to the current.
Crocus grinned and nodded with pride. "Yes, this is how a Dead End Race should be, more decisions like this. This is a strategy." His grin twitched irritably as a memory niggled at the back of his skull. "Unlike a certain cannonball-happy cabin-boy's ideas I could name."
"Bwoooh…" Laboon warbled, sinking away from the evil aura his caretaker was giving off.
"Actually, Cross, chances are that this was a calculated move," Itomimizu shrewdly noted. "Since that was just a scout for the blockade and it had plenty of time to transmit its location, that means that the Firetank Pirates will have everyone else between them and the front line when the fighting starts. Risky long-term, but smart. We have some time, but get ready, viewers. Things are gonna pick…up…soon? What the—uh, Cross? What is that?"
Crocus blinked clean out of his bad mood as Gif's view swung around to display—"A bird?"
-o-
"Is that a crane or something?" Perona wondered.
"Yeah, yeah, I think that's a crane!" Xiao nodded, full of eager energy. "I remember seeing a bunch of them in a swampier bit of the Summer Zone! They were really, really tall, with legs like tree trunks, and their eyes were really glowy and when they saw something, they'd zero in on it, and then their necks and beaks were super-fast and strong, and they managed to break through the shell of a turtle-gator in one hit, and it was so scary—EEP! The tyke's babbling sputtered out into a panicked gasp as she suddenly swayed on her feet, on the verge of passing out.
"So… new crane mutation in the swamps, got it," Perona chuckled as she patted the child's head. "Granny, could you—?"
"Already recording it," Granny assured her, jotting the observation down in a logbook. "We've also got a particularly coordinated pack of cow-sized gophers in the eastern prairies of the Spring Zone, and something's been leaving carcasses riddled with iron needles in the more ruin-covered sections of the Fall Zone."
"Ugh," Perona lamented, sagging into her overstuffed throne as she swept her arm over her eyes. "So much work… I thought it was Shiki making the local ecology go nuts! Shouldn't the evolution be calming down without his dosers around anymore?"
"Oh, it has!" Granny noted with a sunny grin. "Now we've only got half a dozen species popping up a week instead of two dozen! But if you'd rather leave them all to go on a rampage instead and have us go on strike—?"
"I'll tame them, I'll tame them!" Perona yelped, waving her arms in panic. "J-Just let me spend a few more minutes relaxing watching the SBS, alright?!"
"Whatever you say, dear," the old woman simpered with an ill-hidden grin.
"Okay, someone wanna explain why two of my cousins ARE BEING TOTED AROUND BY A CRANE OF ALL THINGS at twelve o'clock?" Soundbite sourly queried.
The proof of Soundbite's words was now close enough to confirm: a snow-white crane with a harness akin to the one Shiki had equipped his eagles, two snails within, was flying directly towards them. It perched gracefully on Chuchun's head, avian and gastropod eyes alike alighting on the Voices of Anarchy.
"Jeremiah Cross and Soundbite," an aged and sophisticated voice drawled from the snail next to the gastropod. "Your reputations precede you."
Cross blinked in surprise, and then his expression sharpened. "Vice Admiral Komei," the pirate returned in a respectful tone. "Yours as well. I must say I'm surprised you'd meet with us in such a civil manner. You do realize your superiors will have your head for not lambasting us before a global audience, right?"
The Marine-channelling snail's eyes shifted in such a manner as to indicate the dismissive waving of a hand. "As it so happens, I'm at a point in my career where they, quite frankly, can't make me give a damn. I will show respect where it is due, and I refuse to let my superiors dictate what that might be."
A stunned silence stretched out for a minute before a pair of dangerous grins spread across the Voices' faces. "Oh, I am definitely going to enjoy matching wits with you, Vice Admiral sir."
Perona's eyebrows shot up nervously. "This… just got dangerous, on so many levels."
"Sounds fun!" Xiao chirped.
"Depends on your definition of 'fun'…"
-o-
"Well, only if you're comfortable with that risk," the Marine responded, his tone and expression perfectly neutral. "After all, our orders are to prevent passage. We may be disinclined to attack if you move far enough out of cannon range. After all, your odds of success are, shall we say… less than positive? We outnumber you all by quite a bit, and any attempt to run this blockade will have casualties. Quite frankly, running back to whatever hole you might have come from would be preferable to being sunk or imprisoned, no?"
That message sank in, clearly directed towards every member of the invasion force that it carried to if the way Gif turned around to behold the fleet again was any indication. After several seconds, some of the fleet began to break off from the main group.
"Of course," I cut in frigidly. "That also comes with the caveat that if this breakthrough attempt fails because of too many deserters, whoever survives the defeat is going to hunt them down and murder them in their beds."
At that, most of the ships resumed their heading with almost indecent speed. There were still a handful who branched off, allowed by both sides to leave the group. Unspoken was that they were the ones too foolish or too cowardly to be of any help anyway.
"Using fear as a tool, Cross? I thought you to be a more sophisticated orator than that," Komei sniffed imperiously.
"First off, glass houses and stones, you weasel," I retorted, rolling my eyes. "Second, and more importantly, it's not exactly like I'm threatening saints here either. Lotta the crowd here's the scum of the seas that not even we acknowledge, and they all know it." Cross paused, glaring balefully at the fleeing pirates. "Or at least, they should know that by now. But hey! If they take offence to that… they can say it to our faces."
That refocused the majority of the yet-hesitant pirates in the pack, and anyone who'd abandoned their posts swiftly got back to work.
Komei let out a sigh that smacked of resignation before donning a more sincere grin. "Applying intimidation in an appropriate manner for proper benefit. Alright, Cross, I will admit: I am impressed. And I hope that you'll continue to show me the skills that have earned you the place of the Straw Hats' world-famous tactician. It will be the first true challenge I've enjoyed in a long while." A feral smirk came onto his pseudo-face. "A challenge I foresee myself overcoming."
I returned his smirk with a grin of my own. "Don't count your Sea Kings just yet, Vice Admiral. Plenty of people have tried to bring us down, and thus far none have succeeded."
"Why, what a coincidence!" Komei exclaimed in an overly grandiose tone. "The same could be said of my own track record when dealing with pirates. So in the end, I suppose there's really only one question left, isn't there?"
"Indeed, there is…"
I leaned in to shove my smirk right in the snail's face, and we spoke as one.
"Whose prowess shall prove superior?"
The standoff lasted for about ten seconds before I leaned back with a cheeky grin. "Ten beri says you're gonna lose."
"I'll raise that to life in Impel Down, but best of luck nevertheless, Cross," Komei chuckled casually. "After all, I'd hate to only trounce you once."
And before I could say anything more to that, the crane spread its wings and took off, swooping away and soaring high to circle above us.
"…damn, he got the last word on you," Soundbite whistled in awe. "THAT NEVER HAPPENS."
"Well… may as well let him have that victory, at least," I smirked. "But it'll be his last."
"N-n-not without a fight, anyways…"
"Eh?" I blinked and looked over at Itomimizu in surprise, the pencil-neck quite literally shivering in his seat. "What makes you say that?"
All my co-commentator could muster up was to raise his wobbly finger and gesture at the horizon.
I followed the direction he indicated… and sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth.
"Oh. Right," I bit out tersely. "That… could be a problem."
-o-
The camera panned ahead of the great pirate armada to share the commentators' view, and displayed a horizon that had turned black-and-white with ships. Iceburg and Lulu's eyes widened.
Paulie and Zambai's reactions were… decidedly more operatic.
"HOLY SEA KING BARNACLES, THAT'S A LOT OF SHIPS!" the ex-bounty hunter belted out.
"But what kind?" Iceburg wondered out loud.
Thankfully, the camera view cooperated with his thoughts, zooming in on the approaching armada. From the slowness of said Zoom and the continued good picture quality, this was accomplished by Cross and Itomimizu's bird-mount winging closer.
"… How many ships is that?" the latter weakly asked.
"Let's go with a metric shitton and call it a day," Cross replied in an equally wary tone.
"Wasn't this supposed to be a weak spot on the blockade!?"
"Yeah, well… credit to Kid: he's a raging jackass, but he is a Supernova for a damn good reason."
The gathered shipwrights listened with only half an ear; most were busy taking in the various ships gathered. While overall a decidedly heterogeneous mass, some patterns could be discerned.
"Lotta Aberdeen clippers," Paulie noted, intently gnawing on his cigar. "Rest seems to be a mish-mash from every damn shipyard on the planet. Tyne, Boustead, Severnaya, Split—"
"And Water 7," Iceburg noted with an exasperated huff.
Lulu squinted at the screen. "Hmm, now that the Mayor points it out, I'd say he's right. That's the Arniston there, I designed half of the metalwork on that tub myself."
"So, typical privateer ships. They've always preferred whatever merchant ships they happened to have and could stick cannons on," Paulie scoffed, waving his hand. "I don't see what the problem is. Even with how many of these guys there are, these are the Supernovas we're talking about here. They'll go through single-deckers like these like a wood chipper."
"Okay, Itomimizu, you're more familiar with privateers than me. How bad is this?" Cross inquired.
"Pretty bad," the wide-mouth grimaced nervously. "For starters, privateers carry oversized crews, so boarders are going to be a problem. And more importantly… where the hell are the vereens?"
"… I'm sorry, vereens?"
"Uh, Vereenigde convoy ships. Those are nasty suckers, and privateers love buying them second-hand," the commentator rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "They're not Marine battleships, but they're the closest you're going to find outside of the Navy and the larger national fleets. Something like this, the Marines would shanghai them in a heartbeat."
Paulie flinched back under the weight of the stares on him. "Okay, so I forgot about those guys! Sue me, I don't see any of them on screen!"
"And I take it that not knowing where those things are is a bad thing?"
"You have to ask? But hold that thought. We're about to get a clash!"
And indeed, the screen swung about to display the Cannibal racing into view from the bottom, Barto's barrier visible as a shimmering middle finger. In response, the line of privateers turned broadside and opened fire. Water spouted around the Cannibal, but any hits simply bounced off a barrier. And shots further afield at the Thousand Sunny and Iron Tramp were equally ineffective; any cannonballs against them were simply hurled back at their senders, where they did hit home.
Still, while all that was relatively straightforward, one question remained in the viewers' minds.
"What the heck is the plan here?" Zambai demanded. "The pirates are just gonna crash right through at this point!"
-o-
"Okay, I gotta ask: what is the guys' plan here?" Itomimizu wondered. "None of the Supernovas are firing! Not the Barto Club, not the Kid Pirates, and not even the Straw Hats. Are they going for a melee?"
I slowly turned a thoroughly flat expression on Itomimizu. "Remind me, I have put out how many SBS broadcasts on my crew by now?" I pointed out.
"…Fair point."
Still, I did get where Itomimizu was coming from. The Thousand Sunny, for all his virtues, did not have a big cannon battery, only ten on either side. There was… that, but we were saving that for a bigger target than these guys. The Cannibal and Iron Tramp, on the other hand, had batteries closer to the expected forty that you'd see on ships of that size, so they had fewer excuses. Still, as Capone had so helpfully demonstrated, turning broadside to get in a gunnery duel was an invitation to let everyone pass you; a head-on assault was the best idea.
But still, that didn't explain why they weren't using their bowchasers… unless…
I adopted a deadpan expression as I snapped my fingers and pointed at the Sunny. "Robin, you wouldn't have happened to overhear Luffy and a few of the other Supernovas getting into an argument over something or other before the race started, would you? Something about, oh, I don't know, body counts and bounties?"
"However did you guess, Cross?"
I kneaded the bridge of my nose as I waved the connection away. "And of course they're intentionally getting into a brawl. Because why would we expect sane behaviour during a life-or-death bloodsport race, huh?"
"A failure to employ pattern recognition?"
"You realize I could just punt you off this damn bird to your screaming doom, right?"
"UH…" Soundbite's eyes shot back and forth in a momentary panic before snapping to Ito. "SO, latest updates, FRIENDO?"
"Hey, I'm not done, you little—"!
"The Cannibal is still in the lead, the Thousand Sunny and Iron Tramp right behind her!" Itomimizu declared, bodily shoving his way in front of me and into Gif's eyeline. "The privateers are still firing and laying down a hail of lead that would be deadly for anyone else, but they're not stopping! Instead, the Supernovas are going for a melee, and damn the cannons!"
I gave Ito a sidelong glare for a second before leaning forward eagerly. "And… Impact!"
CRUNCH!
With an almighty cacophony that we could hear from our perch without Soundbite's help, the Cannibal—Barto's barrier reshaped into a pointed ram at the last second—smashed into a privateer ship, messily splitting it into two ragged halves. Credit where it was due, the privateers tried to leap onto the Cannibal as it passed, but the higher sides meant the attempts were doomed from the start. And throughout the carnage, Barto displayed his 'respect' for the privateers' efforts by planting his foot on the Cannibal's figurehead and throwing his head back and cackling like an absolute lunatic.
The Sunny joined the scrum bare seconds later, his bow-mounted axe dials doing an even better job splitting his ramming target like so much plywood. The privateers had no more luck boarding him, either. The Iron Tramp, on the other hand, worked solely on raw momentum. It smashed up the ship it crashed into, no problem, but the wreckage immediately got tangled up with the steamer, and privateers immediately began swarming the ship.
Their reward for such enthusiasm was to face Killer in open combat. Poor bastards. Idly, I waved for Gif to censor that, too. Eurgh, just looking at the results was making me nauseous.
"And it looks like the Iron Tramp is stuck!" Itomimizu forged on, getting a closer look at the carnage with a spyglass. "Not that it's helping the privateers; what Killer's doing to them is illegal to show in 153 of the original 174 member nations of the World Government!"
SQUELCH! "MY SPLEEEEN!"
"Correction, make that 162!"
"Yeah, well, sucks to be them," I gagged, waving my hand uncomfortably. "Now, let's check on… the…" I stared at the hole the Sunny and Cannibal had busted open. Right in front of them was another line of ships, and the privateers in the line they'd just broken through were turning to close in on them from the flanks. "Well, Sea King balls. They got here fast."
Cannon fire erupted behind us, and with a thought, Chuchun whirled around. There, we saw two more fleets, smaller than the ones blocking us but with bigger ships, advancing on the Supernova cluster.
"I take it those are the vereens you mentioned?" I demanded, my mind racing. Where the hell had they come from!?
"Yup," Itomimizu replied, popping the P. "And can I just say that this is all bizarrely coordinated for a bunch of privateer scum?"
"Word to the wise from an adrenaline junkie, brother: Don't mess with Vice Admirals on any level, physical or otherwise," I groused as I crossed my arms. "They will find ways to fuck you up."
-o-
"Why, I do believe I might have left something of an impression on the poor boy," Jonathan mused, tapping a white queen against his knee.
"I can't begin to imagine what would give you that idea, sir," Drake responded through grit teeth.
"Hem-hem?"
Said gritting intensified at the feminine cough behind him, and he held up the tray in his arms with a terse jerk. "Also, would you care for some more tea, Captain Ain?" he ground out in a voice that promised murder.
"That would be lovely, Lieutenant-Commander, thank you," Ain simpered politely, profering her teacup to him.
Drake reached for the teapot and, completely by accident, knocked it against the table, cracking it.
"Oh, look. It's broken. So easy and fragile to do that to some things. Like some people's necks," the grim-faced Marine growled as he marched out the door. "Pardon me while I go and get more." And with that, he slammed the door shut behind him—
CRACK!
—with… excessive force.
"You'll need to get a new door, too!"
"GRARGH!"
Vice Admiral Jonathan turned his focus away from the screen by a few degrees so that he could address the smug Captain. "Just for the record, you do realize you're pushing my second-in-command ever closer to a mental breakdown with your treatment of him, yes?"
"Oh, of course I do, yes. But it's just too much fun to stop," Ain responded with a smirk. "You yourself should know that, Vice Admiral."
"Hmm… fair enough," Jonathan shrugged casually. "Just know that I'd advise you to change your fake cough a bit, please? It sounds like you have a fat toad stuck in your throat."
The captain's hand shot to her neck with an "Eep!" and a blush. "S-so noted sir," she coughed, for real this time.
Jonathan chuckled before turning his full attention back to the race, as well as the strategies being employed by his fellow—if he was being generous—masterminds.
The scene on the screen was undoubtedly a fine strategy on Komei's part: Tangle up the fastest ships—which, naturally, would bear the strongest pirates—and then slam them in the flanks with the largest privateer ships around. And knowing both Komei and what he himself would do, Jonathan was certain that this wasn't even close to the only gambit Komei had planned.
Just as he knew that there was no chance that Cross's own tried and true strategy of applying overwhelming amounts of force with pinpoint accuracy would be so easily overcome.
Honestly, he was torn between wanting his comrade-in-arms' war plan to succeed and wanting to see how his other comrades and their fellow pirates would get out of it.
"But where did they come from?" Itomimizu's demand snapped attention back to the spectacle on the screen, where the commentators watched the approaching rear line with dread. "They couldn't have approached us this fast without someone noticing! Soundbite?"
"Nobody expects attacks from above…" The snail's already present scowl deepened. "But in this case, THERE'S ANOTHER BLIND SIDE. I DON'T KNOW HOW, but they came up from underwater!"
"Tch, of course!"/"Coating, how could we have been so blind!"
Soundbite did a double-take and divided his eyestalks, somehow managing to look very indignant with one eye apiece. "EXCUSE ME!? YOU TWO KNEW ABOUT THIS!?"
"The Captain is not unfamiliar with Sabaody Archipelago, so yes…" Itomimizu groaned, rubbing one temple.
"But for the rest of the world, quick notes version: by coating a ship with a special soaplike residue found only in Sabaody, it is entirely possible for any manner of ship to become capable of travelling underwater," Cross lectured, intensely gnawing on his armoured thumb. "It's for that entire practice that we pirates have no choice but to sail for Sabaody in the first place! Rrgh, but because we focused so intensely on the blockade line itself, we never considered how they'd exploit what lay behind it, damn it!"
"But we had submarine forces scouting out the blockade all over the past week, how could they have missed so many ships!?" Ito questioned incredulously.
"Because Komei's a genius, and if there's one section of sea you survey to hell and back, it's the sections immediately surrounding your organization's Global HQ. He must have hidden ships in every aquatic nook and cranny he could find!" Cross snapped his head to the side with a sharp tsk. "I'd call it brilliant if it weren't in the process of biting us in the ass!"
"Yeah, if you say so… ah, but more importantly!" Ito snapped his hand out over the ongoing fighting. "We've got action up and down the line here! The privateers are closing in, and the Supernovas are slowing and bringing out their own cannons!"
Onscreen, the blob of the rest of the Supernova ships, joined by the Silver and Brass Foxies pulling up the rear, let loose with a furious cannonade that quickly blanketed the battlefield in smoke. Remarkably, the privateer ships remained silent, grimly pressing on.
Well. It might have been grim if it weren't for one teensy, tiny, insignificant little detail.
"And… everyone but the Firetanks and Drake Pirates are sucking Sea King balls. C'mon, captain, I thought our gunnery crews were better than this! This is an embarrassment to the Foxy Pirates!"
"Heh, chalk one up for actually aiming! You go. Conis, line 'em up and knock 'em down proper when you get the chance!"
"If any gunners under my command got results this bad, I'd bust them down to seaman recruit, then let them work their ways back up to their old ranks just to bust 'em down again," Ain groused, running a hand down her face. "This is just painful to watch."
"You're a very kind person, Ain," Drake drawled as he walked back in, a renewed tea set held in his close-to-too-tight grip. "I'd just demote them and then assign them to potato peeling and shit cleaning between drills."
"Well, then I'd—"
"While I'd love to hear you two get into another argument over who's the bigger hardass," Jonathan cut in with an exaggerated put-upon sigh. "Why don't you take this chance to try and impress me by looking at the vereens and tell me what you see?"
The two officers squinted at the privateers, in between broadsides.
"But, ah, still, for the record, I get where you're coming from. I mean, I live with 'Sniper King' Usopp, this pains me on a physical level. I can almost hear him cussing out all these incompetents for how badly they're doing. And no, that's not a request, Soundbite."
"DAMN, AND HE'S GETTING creative too."
Finally, the straddles the Drakes and Firetanks were achieving became hits, two vereens flying to pieces in a matter of seconds. And that finally jarred something loose from the junior officers' brains.
"Huh, did they offload the cannons on the lower gun deck?" Ain noted. "Why would they do that?"
"More speed and more men for boarding, probably," Drake answered, before wincing as another ship disintegrated.
"Still, three of these 'vereens' are so much matchwood, but they're still closing. I'm almost impressed, except for the fact they're planning to go to melee."
"Which doesn't make any sense!" Drake continued, louder. "Gunnery is their advantage, with how badly the pirates are shooting! Why close to melee range with this many high-bounty pirates?!"
"… Yeah, I got nothing," Ain admitted, however much it sounded like it hurt her to do so.
"Hold that thought, Cross, let's check in on the lead—OH NEPTUNE'S HAIRY BALLSACK!"
Further tirades were halted in favour of the camera-screen snapping away, forcibly swapping back to the fight at the head of the race. Ain and Drake's eyes widened: each of the three pirate ships now had two privateers crammed up against their sides, men swarming up the sides heedless of the havoc the pirates were wreaking on them.
Then again, the lightning bolts, sprays of metal, and ship-splitting barriers that frequently lashed out to smite ships to the rear were probably excellent incentives to vacate those general areas.
And, naturally, the two ships grappling with the Iron Tramp were completely censored out. But there had been a brief glimpse as the camera view changed, and all the Marines present were thoroughly grateful for the censoring.
"Oh, so that's how you match the Straw Hats through sheer brutality…" Drake groaned, covering his mouth.
"You should try experiencing them up close and personal, the smell really pulls it all together," Ain deadpanned.
"That is sick and wrong, and I really should not be surprised Kid did it. Please hold for withholding vomit…"
Silence for a moment. Then…
"Okay, that's better… Anyway, the leaders are completely tangled up. Everyone's got a privateer ship, or two grappled to them, and the privateers are going deck to deck just to get at them! And man, are they getting creamed for it!"
"Wait, they're just gonna leave it at that?!" Ain demanded.
"You mean you want to see more of Kid's carnage?!" the Lieutenant-Commander boggled at her.
"More like I want to see more of the Straw Hats fighting so that we can better model strategies focused on capturing them. I believe that that's a goal that we, as fellow Marines, can agree upon, yes?"
"…let me get back to you on that."
"Which seriously begs the question of just what the hell is the gun the Marines are holding and where can I get it?" Cross forged on, sounding increasingly befuddled at the ongoing brawl. "Because these guys are getting massacred!"
"…What is the leverage we have, by the way?" Drake wondered.
Jonathan just smirked for two seconds, at which point the smirk fell, and he squinted at the Thousand Sunny. "Wait, what on earth—?"
"Hey, what the heck are those two doing?!" they heard Cross yelp.
The picture zoomed in, and Ain and Drake eagerly leaned forward.
-o-
"I mean, it looks like they're jumping onto one of the privateers grappling the Sunny?" Itomimizu stated questioningly, tilting his head as he watched a pair of dots leap off the, well, sunny ship.
"I can see that!" I snapped. "I'm wondering why!"
-o-
Two minutes ago:
"Coup de… Vent!"
Compressed air blasted out of Franky's inflated forearms, flinging an entire line of privateers clean off the Sunny's sides. Naturally, more climbed up, and Franky tried to charge up again so he could blast them too, only to run into an increasingly familiar issue.
"This SUPER! Never ends!" Franky groused as his hair flopped in front of his face. "Oi! I need a cola recharge! And more cola storage, note to self, bug the little furry dude about helping me with that later… " he added under his breath.
Arms sprouted from the sides of the ship and started snapping bones, letting Franky step back and grab the bottles of cola that Merry tossed into his hands. As he installed them in his stomach fridge, he took the opportunity to size up the situation.
In short, it was hell. The air stank of gunpowder and piss and fear. Groaning bodies littered the Sunny's decks, and the ships grappling them were charnel houses. And despite that, these assholes just. Kept. Coming! Seriously, it was almost as bad as Enies Lobby. The melee fighters even had to rotate in and out of rail-defence duty to keep up their stamina, while Conis, Lassoo, and Usopp kept up suppressing fire, and Nami soared over the ships on Billy, raining the wrath of God on the other privateer ships jockeying for position.
KRAK-THOOM!
In fact, there was one tree-sized lightning bolt frying another ship now.
"Oi, Merry!" Franky shouted up to the wheel. "You SUPER! Sure, we can't just change directions and shake these guys off?"
"Answer hasn't changed since the last two times you asked it!" the ship-girl shouted back. "We lose distance and risk losing the current if we try tha—there they are!"
Every gear and joint in Franky's body ground to a halt, and he slowly flipped up his sunglasses to sideglare at her. "Are. You. Sure," he bit out.
"Unless Kid lied to us or was really badly mistaken or their ships are lying beneath them, then aye! Those are the bastards!" Merry punctuated her statement both through a snarl and by ramming half a dozen levers in place with a single swing of her arm. "Somebody man the helm, we be engaging in some boarding action against these bilge-suckers!"
"I'm on it!" Chopper shouted, clambering up onto the poop deck and slipping into Merry's place in front of the wheel. "Just don't give me any extra work, I'm already working on three different lists for Boss alone!"
"Say what?!" The named dugong paused in his repeated punching of a privateer he had trapped under his arm to give the human-reindeer an incredulous look. "Why the hell are you—?!"
"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!"
"Ah… aheh, as you say…"
"Don't worry, we're not the ones who'll need a doctor after this!" Franky shouted back before joining Merry in jumping off the Sunny and onto the neighbouring ship.
-o-
"They… could be trying to cut down on the flow of reinforcements," Itomimizu slowly suggested. "They're certainly doing a good job of it."
"Yeah…" I muttered as Merry busted out her rotary cannon and hosed down a good chunk of the deck of the ship she was on. "But knowing my crew, there's no way it's something so simple or logical as that."
-o-
Merry quickly stowed her new and newly beloved weapon after she ran through the first ammo belt. It was amazing firing it, as expected, but two things kept her hand from it. First, Nami, naturally. She had a few choice comments about that she wanted to vocalize, but she withheld them for fear of a certain mollusk screwing her over.
Second, and more importantly, while she and Franky wanted the deck clear, they also wanted the reinforcements to keep coming, so that their targets would actually chance getting within hand-to-hand range rather than cower behind cover. And, thankfully, they were actually climbing up onto the ship right now.
Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the pair of dingy bastards charging them. Charybdis helped her; they even looked like the types to abuse their ships. One sallow and gaunt, with a hooked nose and an overall cruel demeanour, and the other big and beefy, with a ridiculous mustache, flowing blonde hair and a generous layer of fat over his admittedly impressive muscles. And both dressed in some of the most impractically fancy Navy-adjacent outfits she'd ever seen. So, frankly, either way, they'd be doing the world a significant favour.
"Is that them?" Franky asked, striding up next to her.
"Let's confirm," she growled, cupping her hands around her mouth. "OI! Were you two the jackasses who attacked Kid?"
"Who are you calling jackasses, jackasses?!" Mustache roared, charging at them with his fists cocked. Which, in Merry's mind, was close enough to a confession for her.
"Franky, do me a favour…" She raised her free hand and snapped her fingers with a flat expression. "And wreck these bastards."
"WITH PLEASURE!"
Franky proceeded to do just that with extreme gusto, landing a punishing uppercut on the charging bastard and knocking his ass skyward. Then, exchanging a thoroughly malevolent grin with his smaller comrade, he took Merry in one hand and flung her towards the other Marine. The unorthodox maneuver, along with Merry's absurd strength, took the poor sap aback, leaving him sprawled on the ground. The next moment found Merry heaving him into the air and jumping after him, even as Franky followed suit with a Strong Hammer uppercut.
-o-
"Okay, now what are they doing?!" I snapped, throwing up my hands.
It was an honest question: I had put together what beef they had against these guys, but honestly, a few good shots would have been enough to put them down for the count. But no, they were determined to put on a show, it seemed; they had both sent their opponents flying into the air, and now they were… were…
"Uhh… Ito?" I dragged out uncertainly. "You want to try taking this, buddy? Because I… I just really lack the words."
"Uh, well, it looks like Franky is flipping his guy upside down, while Merry is wrapping her arm around her opponent's neck, and… uh…" Itomimizu slowly tilted his head. "I'm right there with you, Cross. Not a damn clue."
"Incredible!" said another voice beside me.
I whipped my gaze around to Boss, who was now sitting right next to me. If it hadn't been for the logical side of my mind reminding me that he could Moonwalk, I probably would have joined Ito and Chuchun in their yelp of, "WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"
As is, I did still make my opinion of his unprompted appearance known: "WHAT IS ONE OF OUR CREW'S MONSTER QUARTET DOING THIS FAR AWAY FROM THE BATTLE!?"
"Cross, that isn't important," Boss waved me off way too casually, straightening and pointing down at the fight. "That is what's important! For the first time in a generation… no, two generations, the legendary finishing moves are being performed!"
"Since when in the blue hell are you a wrestling fan!?" I demanded… and then shook my head. "Forget I asked, of course you're a wrestling fan."
In search of a bit more sense, I looked back down to see how the fight below was going: Merry had now flipped the one guy upside-down and released his neck, grabbing his thighs instead and leaving his head resting on her shoulder while she held the rest of his body up. Franky, meanwhile, had his legs wrapped around his opponent's torso, his hands gripping the legs to drive the poor sap into the deck.
"Muscle Buster! Muscle Driver! Only the greatest of men can even attempt such techniques! To see both together—!" He froze, eyes widening. "No… could it be?"
Glancing back at Merry and Franky, I noted that they were still holding their opponents, just in mid-air and streaking towards the deck. Oh, and also lined up perfectly. Nice bit of coordination, there, if it weren't for the intense migraine it was causing me.
"It is!" Boss interrupted, still wide-eyed. "It's the legendary tag-team finishing technique!"
"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" Itomimizu whispered to me.
"It already is…" I growled, massaging my eyes.
"THE MUSCLE DOCKING!"
Down below, we watched Franky pile drive his opponent headfirst into the decking. And simultaneously, Merry landed on his shoulder, driving her opponent's neck straight into her shoulder with a snapping sound that we heard all the way up here. Both of us winced.
…but it really said something about how desensitized I had become that I was able to look away from the grievous injuries to the childishly grinning dugong next to me, my full attention. A dugong, I was starting to have a sneaking suspicion about.
"…how wasted are you?!"
Boss snickered shakily and held up a sake gourd that was still dripping. "Parting gift from Izo, straight from Wano. Why do you ask?"
I stared at him flatly for a second before holding my palm up to his. "…Sobering Attack: Impact."
I didn't even twitch as I blasted him clean off Chuchun.
"FOUL!" he yelled as he plummeted towards the ocean, only to get plucked out of the air by a passing Nami and Billy.
"Old man, I kindly request that you tell your sons not to share whatever booze you make in the New World with Paradise rookies anymore," I deadpanned, looking Gif straight in the eyes. Sighing and looking back at where Boss had fallen, I added, "And man am I going to catch complete hell for that later…but damn if it wasn't worth it."
CRASH!
I snapped my eyes back down, and the sight that met my eyes was that of a plume of dust rising from an enemy ship below.
…a ship that looked like someone had taken a bat to it so hard it had split in half.
"Monster," I said dismissively.
"How can you say that so casually?!" Itomimizu demanded before freezing as my words processed. "Ah, apologies for the interruption, viewers. Why don't we, ah, switch away from the madness for a bit and check in on the mid-line action?"
-o-
The shot glass shattered against the wall, dangerously close to the screen that the assembled executives of Dressrosa were using to watch the broadcast. Panting, Señor Pink stomped out of the room, visibly steaming.
"Make sure he pays for that," Trebol noted, not taking his eyes off the broadcast. With the Young Master and a small team of his choosing handling business elsewhere, he was left in charge of Dressrosa.
"Er, what was that all about?" Sugar whispered to Pica next to her. The giant man could only shrug indifferently.
On the screen, the view shifted back to the cluster of Supernova ships, locked in a sprawling melee with the privateers engaging them. The Drakes and Firetanks had positioned themselves in the center, blasting away at the privateers and using their fellow pirates to soak up the boarders.
It was a job they were doing very well.
Bodies streamed off every ship and lay in heaps wherever there was space. Shattered hulks dotted the waters behind them. It was a slaughter, not a fight, and yet the privateers just pressed on.
"Huh. So, Cross, how much do you think this setup was deliberate on anyone's part?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure Drake and Capone planned their positions. The rest… probably serendipity. Hang on, zoom in on the Silver Foxy."
The camera obliged, showing a charnel house and some very good infantry tactics. The Foxies appeared to have been organized into units, and as the Executives watched, one such unit surged onto the sides, letting another fall back to medics near the masts.
More importantly, the captain seemed to be locked in single combat with a sharp-dressed man whom everyone present recognized.
"Hey, that's Abel Tasman, the business-stealing rat bastard!" Jora squawked indignantly.
"Nihihihi! Maybe they'll knock him off for us!" Machvise chortled, slapping his stomach with glee.
"Huh, who's that?" Cross wondered, sending everyone present scrambling for a notebook to record another thing Jeremiah Cross didn't actually know.
"Abel Tasman, a freelance merchant admiral who runs the Vereenigde merchant convoys I mentioned a while back," Itomimizu elaborated, the casual tone undercut by an acidic scowl. "And by freelance, I mean 'works privateer when business is short', which is most of the time. The Marines tolerate it because Tasman has pretty much the largest private fleet in the Blues, and he's no slouch in a fight himself."
"Well, Foxy's doing pretty well for himself and—whoop, there's Big Pan, flinging him into the air. Does he—No." Cross shook his head as he watched the ill-dressed 'admiral' flail in the air. "No Moonwalk. Glad to know that some things aren't getting picked up by every prick alive."
"A fact that Captain Foxy takes advantage of by nailing him with a Slow-Slow Beam!"
The executives all leaned forward, eyes wide and eager as the business-thief 'flew' through the air in slow motion.
"Big Pan's picking up Foxy and holding him up to Tasman! Foxy's laying down the Nine-Tails Rush from hell into him! And the Slow-Slow Beam has worn off, sending him blasting towards the Jewelry Margherita! Well, I'll be damned, it actually looks like he's going to stick the landing—!"
"Oh, shit, Bonney's right there!"
WHAM!
Experienced pirates all, the Executives did not wince at the fate that befell Tasman. It was a near-run thing, though; even for them, that was gruesome.
"And he slams right into Bonney's head! His back is in an inverted V… and Bonney hasn't budged! Oh, that's gotta hurt!"
"From the shape his spine is in, I'm not sure he's feeling much of anything!" Cross cackled ecstatically.
It helped that it was a disliked rival getting injured like that.
"That whippersnapper GOT what was coming to him!" Lao G bellowed… probably a bit louder than he intended.
"More than what that opportunistic prick deserved," Baby 5 sniffed petulantly. "Think there's any chance he actually bit it?"
"Looks like a snap between the T6 and T7, meaning…" Diamante analyzed as he squinted at the contorted admiral before scowling irritably. "Damn it, he's still alive!"
A resounding exclamation of "CRAP!" echoed around the room.
"Oh, hey," Cross' decidedly peeved voice interrupted. "Look who finally decided to join the party!"