A/N: Hey, guys! This is my first One Piece story and I just wanted to stop by to say that I hope you guys like it. I'm kind of testing the waters so this is a trial chapter to see if I could continue it or not. So please favorite and follow just to let me know and shoot me a little review.

I am only playing in the One Piece bathtub.


Chapter One: The Battle of Marineford

Blood. So much blood. As the battle had come closer to the platform, the sound of it splattering through the air and across the cement had become more apparent. It was horrid. For the rest of Mata Hara's life, she would be able to smell it on her skin, the thick, salty scent infusing into the strands of her hair. The air was so thick with it that for a moment or two the ebony haired girl thought that the fog that had started to roll from the melting ice was thickened with the death and slaughter like a contagion that had even reached the wind.

Lightly, a breeze whipped down the high walls of the headquarters. Mata had trailed her fingers along the rock so many times in her long life inside the Marines that the tips of her fingers had grown tough with callouses. The walls of Marineford shook. Impregnable, they had said. Now they were crumbling beneath the combined assault of a million pirate ships and a few giants. And even due to the Navy themselves.

In their haste, some had bombed the sides, canon fire denting the exterior. But nothing came close to the destruction that the giant Oars had caused.

"HEY!" Sengoku screamed, his fingers tensing into tight balls as the Marine's below. Over the tall walls of Marineford, Mata picked out the final, desperate charge of the pirates. Her eyes narrowed, the unnatural green of the irises flashing as she stared across the body flooded area. Wavy, obsidian black hair rolled down to her chest, dancing in the wind. What few of the younger, less battle hardened officers was that the aura's of the pirates making their way toward the fallen giant was far from final. It was near bewildering the the emerald eyed girl. They were beat down, bleeding - their numbers cut in half and their main mission set so far in enemy lines that reaching him would be impossible. "What's wrong?! It should be activated!"

Down below, the Marine lacky below fumbled, others clustering desperately around the fallen body of Oars. "I-I'm afraid that the wall can't lift the giant body of Oars!"

Kneeling before Mata, the ebony haired boy shift, his shackles grating across the metal bolts and paneling, his head lifting a bit to stare tensely out at the scene before him. Mata's eyes narrowed into slits, the guns at her hips and in her shoulder holsters glinting in the pale light. Although she didn't like to admit it, she had grown some...sympathies for the men and women bombarding Marineford.

Portgas D. Ace had a big mouth on him and Mata Hara had been his constant companion after the breakout of former warlord Jinbe and his move to Impel Down. Under orders of Sengoku and the other admirals she had been assigned to him as an extra layer of protection. Mata had no illusions on the reasons. She was a deadshot and in the delicate features of her face there was a serenity that belied her inner thoughts. Her shorter frame and appearance of disinterest had earned her quick rank increases and missions that few others would receive. Because the only thing that truly stood out about her was the unsettling color of her eyes, Mata Hara was able to blend very easily into crowds and corridors. And over the years she had used that to her full advantage.

At that very moment, what Mata Hara was thinking was that the death of Oars was more than a little unsettling. It made her heart itch in ways that she found extremely irritating. And even more annoying to her was the fact that one Portgas D. Ace was crying, his shoulders rolling in silent wails and his spine bent as he sunk forward. If it weren't for the shackles, drawing his shoulder blades at a painfully stiff angle that anchored him back he would fall forward. A muscle in Mata's face twitched, her lips thinning as her eyes flicked over the bruises that danced around his spine and kissed his ribs. He was filthy, dirt caking his skin, collecting in the curve of his collarbone and along the defined ridges of his abs and ribs.

For a bit, they had starved him. Then taken away his water so that the food they shoved through his grate was inedible. He had lost over 20 pounds and his skin had been so raw from the boiling vat that he had been thrown in the first day had made the rough brick walls and ground that he had to sleep on unbearable.

It was the first time in 19 years since she had been left on the doorsteps of the Navy with only a name that she had come face to face with the cruelty that the Marine's held inside their walls.

"Th-they're dying." Emerald eyes flicked over to stare at the chained boy, his eyes wide as sweat and tears tracked through the dirt coloring his skin. On his other side, Old Man Garp shifted. Sengoku refused to see the signs. Mata wasn't so diluted. The Old Man was so close to breaking that she could smell it in the air.

A winced tsk hissed from Sengoku, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. "Hara!"

The ebony haired girl shifted, the bullet holders crossing her chest shifting into place over the bandages that bound her breasts and waist, the material thick and constraining. It was very easy to tell what type of fighter she was. Worn leather holders stacked with bullets looped across her torso, banding her arms and thighs and hanging lowly around her waist. A sharpshooter, her haki had been given to her at birth.

Slowly, like a dog that was suddenly remembering that it had a master, her head lowered. "Yes, Fleet Admiral?"

Mata easily caught the sniper rifle tossed at her, shock running through her as her grip adjusted easily around the weapon.

"Shoot anyone that comes over the giant." Unfamiliar pain lashed through ebony as she stared at the imposing figure of Sengoku.

Mata had been mentored by all the admirals. Each of them had given her small nuggets of advice and training. They had let her fight with them until she couldn't move, her body feeling like a discarded glove covered in sweat. And then they had laughed, helping her to her feet and leading her to the mess hall. She had admired them. When had that changed?

"Food call!" Mata's eyes flicked up from the rifle that she was cleaning, her lips thinning as she saw the usual marine hauling in the usual slop. He gave her a smile and a nod as he neared her spot, weapons and cleaning supplies sprawled around her as she sat crossed legged by the imposing door. Secretly, none of the other marines could fathom why the utterly ordinary, small girl was guarding the infamous pirate. What they didn't know was that more than keeping him in, she was there to keep all rescuers out. The slamming the bolt back into place, the click reverberating off the thick, cement walls.

When had their jokes become unbearable?

The butt of her riffle slammed into place, barring the grate as the marine ducked down to slide it through. His brown eyes widened, brows furrowing in confusion. Mata stared at her for a moment, her expression deceptively impassive but her eyes blazing angrily.

"Where's the water?" Slowly, a crooked smile curled the man's lips.

"Haven't you heard? Your prisoner's trying to watch his figure. Water diet."

Mata's lips curled back in a sneer at the joke, her eyes flashing dangerously as the man stuttered into silence, the laughter leaving his lips slowly.

"Funny." Her voice suggested anything but. "Tell the rest of the marine's that Portgas D. Ace will get full portions and water. The only one that has to look at his girlish figure is me."

The man forced a laugh, glancing around nervously. "Ah, come on, Mattie. Loosen up. We gotta make the pirate look his best for his big day."

Something angry and painful roared inside the ebony haired girl like a beast suddenly waking to scrape it's talons along her guts. The tip of her riffle was against the man's temple so quickly that her movements blurred together, leaving both of them in shock at the unexpected motion.

"Listen well, lunch lady," she hissed, her words matching the arctic winds of Drum Island. Her empty hand held the barring riffle in place. "If you try to fuck with my prisoner again without my permission then the only thing that will be loose are your brains from your skull. Do you hear me?"

His adam's apple bobbed, sweat dribbling down his chin, splattering the floor. He didn't need to say anything. The look in his eyes was enough. Disgusted, Mata shoved him away with the butt of her riffle.

"Bring back the proper amount of food and water," she snapped, her attention already back on dismantling the series of weapons in front of her.

Behind the heavily barred door, Mata's ears picked up on the shuffle of shackles and muffled groans.

"Finally growing a heart?" The ebony haired girl's lips curled downward, the heel of her palm slamming the magazine on a pistol into place with such force that her teeth jarred together.

"I made Old Man Garp a promise," she whispered, not caring that her words might be lost. It was true. Before she had been shoved into this deep, dank hole with Ace, her old mentor had made her swear to him on her honor as a Marine.

"To only let them mummify me a little?"

"Both of us," a deep voice that she recognized as her other prisoner, Jinbe griped. "Mummify both of us. I've had the fortune to be trapped with the most hated man in the prison."

"You're such a downer," Ace complained and Mata heard the sound of someone kicking another. "Shut up."

In side her cell, she heard the sound of scuffling and jangling chains. Mata's movements were swift as she loaded a revolver and shot a warning bullet at the wall, hitting a crack in the corner of one of the bricks. Blowing away some of the smoke, she reloaded it.

The noise had stopped.

Her tongue worked around words as she stared down at her weapons, her face pulled tight in disatisfaction. "To defend his insolent fool of a grandson. As he so elegantly put it."

There was a rasping snort that ended in hacking coughs. "Uh. Yeah. That sounds like him. That old, pruney, bastard."

Mata resisted the urge to snort, trying to hold back the reflexive reaction. Garp's grandson was funny. It was hard to dislike funny people who you saw get beat up on a daily basis. Kind of made them seem like dumb dogs with sadistic owners.

Irritated, she slammed the magazine into another pistol, taking quick aim at a crack in the wall and firing. Silence roughened the air as Mata focused down at the task at hand.

"Hey. Have I told you about my little brother?"

"Dear lord, not again," Jinbe whispered in obvious agony.

Portgas D. Ace and his big, stupid mouth. This was why Mata Hara felt like a she was about to throw up.

But there was only one answer in the Marines.

"Yes, sir." Rolling up the sleeves of her Navy coat, she slipped past Ace and took careful aim, adjusting the sights and unclipping a sniper magazine from a clip filled with them at her hip.

"Mata - Mata, you don't have to -" Ace's words fumbled off as emerald eyes met and held his. The problem with being in front of one of Garp's grandson was the fact that all they needed to do was look into a person's eyes. They could see everything if they caught you.

And what Ace saw was everything that Mata Hara had been pressing down inside of herself for the last few years. The doubt. The fear. And the mind numbing reality that at any moment she would shoot one of his friends. Maybe she would even shoot Luffy.

"His face is kind of stupid. But in a really likable way. Ya know?"

Mata slammed her head back against the cement wall, squeezing her eyes shut. "Do you usually talk this much?"

"He does," Jinbe rumbled.

"Why? Do you like it?" Inside the cell, she heard shackles jingling as Ace slipped forward, ignoring his companion. "You like it don't you? Marco told me I had a nice voice."

"I've heard better."

"Ouch," Jinbe murmured.

"Aw, that was mean." Mata rolled her eyes, fiddling with the bullets at her waist. For a moment, everything was silent. "I miss him, ya know?"

The ebony haired girl blinked, glancing at the prison door from the corner of her eyes. "Marco?"

"My brother. Brothers. Both of them. Not Marco." It was a foreign sentiment to Mata. "They were stupid. And useless most of the time… But they were mine. I'm the only one that would protect them. Ya know?"

Mata stared at thin cracks spidering from one of her bullet holes. Her lips parts and then closed. She had been a Marine from birth. No one had ever taught her about family. And protecting other people seemed like rather a lot. A nuisance. Full lips curled down. A set back.

"No. I don't."

"Ah," Ace sighed after a moment of silence. "That's sad, Navy Girl. You've never wanted to protect something?"

Mata's mind spun, her stomach tensing. Herself. On missions she had wanted to protect herself.

"I - I -" She stopped, going silent.

Ace was silent as well, even his shackles going quiet. "Luffy. That's his name - my brother. He's a crybaby. If he was here … Ah, that doesn't matter. Why are you making me talk about this, Navy Girl?"

"Mata." She said suddenly, not even thinking about it before it was out.

"Huh?"

"My name's Mata."

There was a chuckle. "Nice to meet you Navy Girl Mata. Portgas D. Ace at your service and under your command."

Mata's lips curled wryly, her head turning so that her cheek pressed against the brick.

Mata tore her eyes from Ace's, turning back to the horror of Marineford. Oozy molten lava rained from the sky, Akainu's fist's extended to the sky as ice melted and heated to boiling water. Shrill screams pierced the air and the muscles of Mata's arms tensed as the canon's circling the wall went off. The pirates were trapped in a funnel of death, like sheep being herded to the sheers. Ace's friends, Mata thought bitterly, wincing. His silly, sloppy baby brother. His smooth, slow crew mate. His captain. The captain that had taken him in. Cared for him.

Mata hissed out a curse, slamming the sniper rifle into the wood of the deck and drawing the attention of Sengoku.

"Cramp," she muttered out, turning her eyes away. Mata wasn't an ordinary Marine. She wasn't way out in the field where she could tear off her Marine coat and start attacking her own people. Why was she even thinking about this? Angrily, she raised her sniper and slipped a finger along it's side whispering out a ragged, "Track."

The first pirate that came around the bend saw her, ducking back to hide. Mata smiled writing and fired, watching as her bullet flew threw the air and then swerve and the body of the pirate fell face first into a puddle of his own blood. She took down ten others in rapid succession.

It all happened with a great roar of rubble. Oars was alive, his eyes unfocused but his body moving like a puppet that had some of its strings cut. And a dark haired boy with red shorts and an oversized yellow shirt was flying over the wall and landing with a boom in front of the admirals. Mata's teeth sunk into her tongue as she lowered her rifle.

"Luffy…" Ace whispered out from behind her and she resisted the urge to turn around and see him. It wasn't a simple name. It was his fucking bible. It was a silent prayer for salvation and also protection.

They didn't look anything alike. A crudely stitched scar crescented Luffy's wide, innocent eyes where Ace's eyes were narrowed and critical. Ace's skin was dotted with freckles where Luffy's was completely unblemished. Ace was built like a leopard, Luffy a kitten. Curly, flopping hair versus spiked, unruly strands. They were completely different.

But their smiles were the same. The laugh lines were their around their mouths and eyes.

Why were they executing them like this?

"Warrant Officer Hara!" Mata's nose twitched, her head tipping toward the rumbled voice of Sengoku. "You are to protect this platform until Portgas D. Ace is executed. He is still under your charge. Are we clear?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, Mata saw Old Man Garp twitch and Ace draw in a shaky breath.

Mata's lips thinned dangerously, the unsettling emerald depths of her eyes sparkling and glinting with obvious defiance. It was a long tense moment as the girl stared up at her admiral. Sengoku had trained her before. Maybe the more appropriate words would be that he had thrown her around for an hour or two once or twice a months, giving her helpful pointers while she was mid-air.

"Yes, sir," she finally whispered, her eyes catching on the green-clad executioners, the dull light of Marineford catching on the long blades of their weapons.

"A paddle boat, sir!" One of the marine's below near the canon's shouted. "It's coming at us at full speed!"

"What?!" Sengoku screamed. He had started out so cool and composed. Slowly and surely, that mask had been chipped away.

"Sink it like the Moby Dick!" Canon's went off - so many that the wood beneath Mata's feet shook with the blasts but the paddleboat kept going. Right toward Oars.

"No! Not the boat! Shoot at Oars!" Sengoku roared.

It was too late. With a roar, the giant grabbed hold of the boat, pulling it out of the water and right into the home territory of the Marine's.

"They got us," Old Man Garp murmured and Mata quickly threw her sniper over her shoulder and went to the far corner in front of Sengoku. "There was only a space the size of a rathole."

"They're accustomed to that way of thinking," Mata sneered, taking aim and shooting down as many pirates as she had bullets before she was snapping out the magazine and clipping in another.

"Don't be mean because you're conflicted, Mattie." Emerald eyes snapped to stare back at Ace. He gave her a wane smile. "Kinda hard to keep thinking of us like rodents, am I right?"

"Shut up," Mata snarled, taking aim again. "If you don't, I'll shoot you myself. And I never miss."

"I'm a foot away from you so it would be kind of sad if you did."

Explosions shook the platform and a boom loosened the pillars holding it upright. Cursing, Mata grappled with the wood as her feet slid toward the edge.

Oars was dead.

The yard fell eerily silent and behind her, she heard the ragged intake of breath. "Oars…"

"WHITEBEARD HAS DESCENDED TO THE PLAZA!"

Mata's breath froze in her throat, the fingers grasping her sniper growing clammy. The legends didn't do him justice. He was bigger than life, with calculating tawny colored eyes and a chest marred with scars and bruises. He didn't look his age. His shoulders were too straight and his head held to high.

With one massive swing of his blade, all the marine's around him flew back, dust clouding Mata's vision and forcing ragged coughs to tear from her throat.

The only ones left standing were the admirals.

"Th-that's the man that you told me about?" Mata suddenly whispered, her eyes wide in an unusual expression of awed fear. "Your pops?"

"Yeah," Ace finally rasped out after a moment and Mata was ashamed to see tears pooling in his eyes. "That's my pops."

A bundle of blue fire was heading toward them at an alarming rate. Gritting her teeth, she reached for the revolvers at her thighs. She really didn't need to. With one leap and a sucker punch to the face, blue fire guy was plummeting back to earth and Old Man Garp was at his seat in the lines of admirals. Mata stared. He was choosing the Marines over Ace.

Something nasty and dark tore at her chest, clawing viciously at her heart. That wasn't right. This whole thing wasn't right.

Behind her, she heard the piercing whistle of the wind as the twin blades of the executioner cut through the air. Mata swallowed, a roar tearing through the air.

Why did she feel so sick and weak? She turned, her muscles thumping under her skin as if she was working through honey. He wasn't bad. Why did he have to have such a big mouth?

"DON'T DO IT!"

Mata's head throbbed, her eyes rolling as her legs gave way.

She was falling.


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