So, while my accomplice and partner-in-crime, Arachna D Seth (Hertz) writes the Ferris Island arc, this is what I shall be doing: The Seas of History. This arc will cover each of the original 6 crewmembers; their origins, their encounters, and one or two smaller adventures before the start of the Kingdom of Oz arc. Enjoy!

As usual, One Piece is owned by Eiichiro Oda, but all original ideas, locations and characters are owned by Myself and Hertz. This arc is going to be written by us both, but Episode One will be written by Richard Carr exclusively.

Badger Kaizoku-dan: The Seas of History

Episode One: Horatio Badger

Chapter 1: The Blighe Pirates

"Duck and Cover!" roared a hoarse cry from the Crow's nest, moments before the first cannonball's impact sent showers of splinters cascading over the ship's deck. Luckily, the iron sphere had only hit the wooden fence barricading the edge of the ship's form, the bulk of the sleek black craft remaining undamaged for the time being. All around the open deck, pirates of all natures flung themselves to the wooden ground, as the next array of cannon fire was announced with a volcanic thunder.

With an almost mystical distortion of reality, the cannonballs seemed to hang suspended in the air for a moment, supported purely by their own presence before the scene resumed, and the iron spheres continued on their course towards the centre of the deck; the opponent's cannoneers had adjusted their measurements in accordance with the last near miss, so that this volley was aimed with deadly precision.

As the cannonballs fell, a darting blur of orange fur rushed across the wooden framework of the ship, leaping from raised surface to raised surface, until tiny obsidian claws were aiding its ascent of the central mast of the ship. One more leap and the squirrel was gliding through the air, passing winds caught easily within the flaps of furry skin spanning between its arms and legs. As it soared, its body began to twist and contort, growing larger by the moments as beady black eyes took colour, clawed paws twisted into fingered hands, and orange fur thinned slightly, revealing a toned, slim body through the mass of hairs.

Landing on the closest cannonball, the pirate redirected its path with a flick of his body, leaping from it as it careered into the azure sea; he spread his limbs again in order to carry him onto the next sphere. After three such diversions, however, his initial momentum was spent, and instead of leaping majestically onto the fourth ball, he could do nothing but simply fall.

"I'm out!" he shouted, loud enough for the other crewmembers to hear, before morphing back to the pure animal form and gliding seamlessly into a shadowed corner.

The final three cannonballs closed in on their target, but each was swiftly dispatched by a different source; the farthest from the centre of the ship suddenly jutted to the side, falling calmly into the ocean, a simple wooden arrow piercing it perfectly through its diameter; another acquired a small hole in its centre where a rifle bolt had pierced it, which seemed to grow of its own accord, as if it were being eaten away from the source, until there was nothing left at all.

The final cannonball, however, was taken out in a much more dramatic fashion; as it neared the frail wooden deck, its flight path seemingly stopped dead as it collided with the flat head of a large metal hammer. The hammer, although held in one hand only, didn't budge an inch, the iron ball dropping harmlessly to the deck with a soft thud. A soft hissing sound pervaded the air. Raising his hammer to eye level, the burly man who held it admired the weapon; its head was so clean, he could easily see a reflection of himself in it; an ageing, yet unchanging face, who's hair seemed to grow from the wrong place, as endless curls of the brown locks protruded from his chin, but none could be found upon his gleaming bald skull.

Turning to look over his shoulder, the man's mouth stretched into a wide grin.

"This hammer we bought sure is a piece of work, Cap'n Blighe," he said, his voice as hard and reliable as the metal he held in his hands, "I sure am glad you let me keep the bastard!"

"Enough of that language, Vercix!" replied the figure who stood at the prow of the ship, "and I let you have it as you would put it to its best use. Don't disappoint me now."

For a moment, Vercix observed his captain with a warm smile; the small, slight figure was one from whom you would not expect a powerful command, but something about him let off an air of unquestionable certainty; he was in charge, and that was all there was too it. His short brown hair was hidden beneath a large tricorn hat, the brim of which lay a shadow over his face; although not one large enough to obscure his piercing green eyes. The exact nature of his physique could not be identified, as his torso was covered by a thick navy blue jacket, the shoulders adorned with golden tassels. Leather boots hid his feet, the legs of dark blue trousers tucked into their tops.

After an elongated moment of pausing, Vercix returned to the task at hand.

"Right you are, Captain!" he grinned, turning on his heels and running towards the edge of the ship. Stepping up onto the guarding fence with one easy step, he flexed all the muscles in his legs, and launched himself from the deck, the impressive leap setting him in easy stead to clear the gap between the two ships with ease. As his parabolic arc decayed, he fell towards the enemy cannon that lay furthest on the left, and began to swing his hammer, slowly curving the metal weapon through the air. Enemy pirates moved to stop him, but the unexpectedness of his manoeuvre and the swiftness with which he had made it left all their efforts in vain.

As the hammer's head approached the cannon's side, a single word erupted from the man's lips with the solemnity of ten hungry lions chasing a heard of gazelle.

"IMPACT!"

With an unearthly ringing sound, an invisible blast with the power of a cannonball accompanied the hammer's own momentum, and collided against the cannon's side. Wrenching it immediately from its secured position, the cannon spiralled madly across the deck, taking three more cannons and a fair few unwary crewmen with it on its journey before it punctured the side of the ship, and spun into the depths of the ocean. With a wild smile across his face, Vercix pushed himself backwards and dove into the sea, making his way steadily back to the Blighe Pirate's ship.

It seemed that even this extravagant attack left the bulk of the assailant crew unaffected, however, as the pirates soon rallied together and prepared another assault. Having observed this through a pair of bronze binoculars, Blighe lowered his arm and let out a pitying sigh. Turning his attention to the crow's nest, he addressed another of his crewmen.

"Torei, establish contact," he said, his voice carrying easily through the air. A gruff shout of "Aye," confirmed the order, as the tall, slight man atop the mast readied another arrow, notching it into his bow as he took aim, letting it loose barely a second later. The arrow cleared the distance in moments, lodging itself neatly in the mast of the other ship; once its movement had ceased, a string could be clearly seen tied around its shaft, an odd looking shell hanging from it.

Curiously, a pirate who'd just had a near-miss encounter with this particular arrow grasped the shell in one hand, running his thumb over its smooth surface. After a few moments, to his absolute surprise, a soft 'click' from the shell's base prompted a voice from its heart; the more learned amongst them might recognise this device as a Tone Dial, but whether or not they did mattered little, as the message was what was important.

"Will you just leave us alone already?" came Blighe's voice from the shell's depths, "We're just trying to make it to port in time for a cheeky pint before sunset."

Back on the Blighe Pirate's vessel, Torei's voice floated down from the crow's nest.

"What happens now, Cap'n?" he asked; his voice still as rough and unemotional as before.

"We wait for a response," Blighe said simply, his arms crossed neatly behind his back. After a few second's reprise from the mayhem, the sound of igniting gunpowder hailed the next volley of cannon fire from the ship's few remaining cannons. Although unsurprised, Blighe let out a disappointed sigh.

"Someone fetch Jihmon or Walt, and let's finish this," Blighe said authoritatively, "and where the hell's my First Mate?!"

While emerging slowly from the shadows, a small, redheaded boy who couldn't be out of his teens replied to the captain's order.

"Jihmon's in his deep sleep phase, and Walt's got a monster of a cold. As for the First Mate, I haven't a clue, Captain."

"Blast it all," Blighe cursed, as the sound of heavily forced water indicated the initial volley's failed attack. The second fire wouldn't be so unlucky.

"Get Walt here, and we'll do what we can!" he ordered. Without hesitation, the boy disappeared into the belly of the ship. A few moments later, another figure shuffled through the open doorway.

His physical features would remain a mystery, as his entire body was wrapped tightly in a thick feather quilt, held in place by one hand as he shuffled across the deck. His face was drooping and an ominous shade of yellow and thin slivers of watery slime ran with all their might from his nostrils. His breathing was heavy and staggered, as if every breath caused him more effort than it was worth.

Despite his somewhat comical appearance, Blighe spoke to him as plainly as he would in any other situation.

"Walt, use your Devil Fruit power to end these fools so that we can make it to port." He said, indicating the enemy vessel with one hand. Opening his mouth, Walt attempted to reply, but all that could be managed was a breathy whimper, the noise barely loud enough to be heard by even the most perceptive of creatures.

Damnit, thought Blighe, he can't make a goddamn sound, so his ability is useless. Blighe knew how invaluable Walt's power had been in the past; the power to amplify any sound he made as much as he pleased. In this situation, however, such an amazing ability was rendered completely obsolete; a problem only intensified by the roaring cannon's fire a moment later.

"Prepare for impact!" cried Blighe, moving from his position and moving swiftly across the deck, "and for the love of God, someone get this man a lozenge!"

All over the deck, the crew scattered themselves in preparation for the next assault, while the bedraggled Walt tried his best to clear the gunk obstructing his throat. A few times, he opened and closed his mouth experimentally, getting little more than an exhalation of air, but little by little, as the cannonballs approached, his attempts were becoming more successful.

And just as the cannonballs were mere feet from his body, his lips parted, and the seas shook. Although it would be a weak sounding noise normally, it's amplitude was so great that the noise itself became irrelevant, the deafening roar laying waste to all other sounds in its path. The two cannonballs seemingly shook in the air for a moment, before shattering into a shower of metal filings, dropping to the vibrating deck, unable to cause damage.

The sound waves were so devastating, that they shook the ship to its very core; and the opponent's equally so. However, while the Blighe's ship had only sustained superficial damage, their opponent's was torn and battered from the battle so far, and the enormous vibrations simply exacerbated its condition. Screws and planks worked their way loose from broken fixtures, rope wound its way loose of knots and ties, and within moments, the ship seemingly dissolved into an intangible mass of debris.

Closing his mouth, Walt dropped to the floor; face now beetroot red and sweating from exertion. After a few moments, the crew's sense of hearing buzzed back from deafness. Blighe let himself smile as he observed the defeated opponent's ship. It wasn't until a moment before he turned away, however, that he noticed the grappling hooks looped around the mast, and the waterlogged pirates climbing swiftly upwards from the ruins of their ship.

Will these fools never give in? Blighe questioned internally; however, any fears he may have held in that moment were instantaneously quelled, as an object buzzed passed his head, sweeping majestically through the skies. The boomerang curved in a perfect arc around the mast, the blade attached to one side slicing the ropes free of their claim, and leaving the pirates to fall back into the ocean's embrace.

"Nice of you to finally join us, First Mate," Blighe said, without turning to face him.

"Sorry, Captain," said Horatio Badger, wiping the sleep from his eyes with one hand as the other gripped the handle of his newly returned weapon, "What did I miss?"