It took Zoë only one week to run out of supplies. She had made good progress on the first few days, but on the fourth and fifth she had hit a headwind that threatened to turn her around and further out to sea, so she had to stow the sail and begin rowing to regain the current. Though progress was slow, it gave her ample time to learn about her new ship. It was very well built, no leaks or cracks as of yet. The cabin wasn't completely warm, but whoever had left extra supplies (she figured it was her Uncle Maki) had known about that. The rudder liked to veer just barely starboard, but not enough to cause any problems as long as there was a current.

Late on her seventh day Zoë found a place to harbor. Though it wasn't a sheltered cove like Tarvos, it had no significant riptide, making it simple enough to row her way in. When she was close enough, she threw a mooring line to a few fishermen, who thankfully caught it and began helping her reel in. She stored her blankets in one of the barrels, stowed the oars, and thanked the fishermen for their help. A few weary smiles were given in response.

"It's two hun'ed beri to use t' space, miss," one of the fishermen said. He might have been in his late fifties, but he was probably older, and missing a few teeth. "That young lad'll take t' money," he added, pointing to a (relatively) well dressed man with a large leather-bound book and a small strongbox. Figuring she wasn't getting cheated on, she thanked him for the information and made her way to the young man.

He stepped up from where he was lounging as soon as she neared the end of the pier. "'Ello, miss," he said when he reached her. "End o' t' pier?" he asked, gesturing towards her quarter schooner.

"Yes," Zoë responded, reaching into her jacket where she kept her funds.

"Be two hun'ed beri, miss," he confirmed what the fisherman had said. Though, judging by his accent, they may as well have been father and son. No marine at least, though she saw a large structure just out of town with the symbol of Justice on it, meaning there was at least marine presence in this town.

Zoë handed over the money, and after taking a moment to examine it, the man placed it into the strongbox. "Hold a moment," she said as he made to move back to his chair. "I'm just stopped to pick up some supplies, can you recommend me to a good place?" As she asked she gave him a winning smile.

He smiled back and stopped. "Aye, miss. There be a place down that road there," he said, gesturing to the second street leading away from the harbor. "It have a few carts 'n a big tarp o'er it. Madame Baer, she sells food 'n stuff. Make suren you tell 'er Hunt send ya." With that, he walked back to his chair, presumably to wait for any other travelers.

Zoë thanked his back as he walked away and headed down the indicated street. It wasn't particularly busy, though that might have had to do with the time. From over the row of houses she could hear the sounds of laughter and clattering plates, indicating some sort of bar. Few people roamed this street, and most barely glanced in her direction as they hurried about their evening business.

A building with the outdoor furnishings the toll collector had described was only a short distance away. Underneath the tarpaulin, illuminated by the light of two torches stood an extremely obese woman, perhaps seven and a half feet tall. Presumably this was the Madame Baer she had been recommended to.

Zoë conducted her business quickly with the large woman, making sure to mention that Hunt had told her about the place. That earned her a two hundred beri discount on what she purchased, essentially negating the cost of the docking. Prices were basically the same as she would get on Tarvos, so Zoë didn't waste time haggling. Besides, if the woman refused her business out of spite, she'd be stuck with whatever price the next shop asked.

While packing away the supplies she could buy, and commiserating the loss of so many funds, a shrill cry came from down the street. Turning, she saw a young woman, no more than sixteen, sprawled on the ground. In front of her stood two marines with lewd grins on their faces.

"C'mon girl, lighten up," one said. "Night with us has benefits you know."

"Yeah," snickered the other, "roof that doesn't leak and a really warm bed."

"No thank you," the woman cried, turning the other way and attempting to walk away.

"Hey, bitch!" the first one called, grabbing her skirt and yanking her back to the ground. "We said you're spending the night with us and you'd better like it!"

"Yeah," the second chimed in, "who do you think protects your sorry ass from pirates and bandits? You should learn to give back once in awhile, bitch." He grabbed the woman by the shirt and lifted her onto her feet, but made no move to let her go.

Angrily, Zoë took a step in the direction of the marines, but a voice from behind her made her pause. "Don't do nothin', miss," came from the shopkeeper. "Won't change nothin' and get you in a whole heap o' trouble." She turned around to see the shopkeeper shaking her head sadly. "We tried to stop 'em before, we have, but they tell their friends before they go out. We don't need no more rounds of 'reparations' for 'interfering with official marine duty'."

"Can't you tell whoever is in charge of the base up there?" Zoë asked quizzically, gesturing in the direction of the marine base she had noticed on the way into town.

The shopkeeper just shook her head again. "That Captain Zil up there practically orders 'em to do it, he'd just laugh in our face if we tried." She shook her head a third time. "Best if you let it go, miss. If they want Clarissa for a night, well that's the price we pay. Can't do nothin' to stop 'em anyway."

Zoë looked from the shopkeeper towards the scene where the top marines were dragging the woman, Clarissa, up the street. Her hand went instinctively towards her sword, but she heeded the shopkeeper's advice. Besides, even if she did do something, it would only cause trouble for the people in the town, and how do you help someone who doesn't want your help?

"Marines! What the blazes do you think you're doing?" A soprano voice split the night, and Zoë's ears twitched towards it, coming from the direction of the docks. Running up the street was a woman in marine uniform with flame red hair and a tonfa in left hand.

"Looks like help's arrived," whispered the shopkeeper from behind Zoë. Zoë spared a glance at her relieved face, but her attention was focused on the new arrival. She couldn't be any taller than six foot, and she had the insignia of a marine Lieutenant Sergeant… And the look on her face was downright murderous.

"I asked you what you think you're doing, marine," the woman said when she got closer. Both of the male marines froze in their tracks, spines stiffening comically. In their surprise they let go of the clothes of the woman between them, who darted into a nearby ally.

"Oh, Commander Penny…" the first one said in what was probably supposed to be a normal voice. "We were… That is, Fordel and I had found this woman with a twisted ankle, so we were taking her back to base to have it set by the doctor." He gave the marine next to him an unsubtle elbow.

"Oh, yeah! Yeah, it's was as Jene said, ma'am. Me an' him was just taking the pretty lady to get that ankle looked at." Both of them turned to look at the woman who was no longer standing between them.

"Really," the new marine, Penny, responded at length. "And I suppose she just ran away with that broken ankle because she was surprised?" Both of the men gulped. "And I suppose my hearing her yell for you to get off her was just her way of saying thank you?" Sweat began beading at their brows. Penny snorted, and turned away. "You're pathetic excuses for marines. Your job is to protect the people, not take advantage of them. As of this moment, you both are on half rations for the week. Now get back to base."

"Little bitch… Make her pay somehow…" muttered the first one in a voice that probably wasn't supposed to carry.

Unfortunately for him, Penny heard it. She spun on her heel and slammed the tonfa into the man's stomach with enough force to drop him to his knees. He let loose a broken cry of anguish as it hit, sinking all the way to the ground. Penny glared at him, then turned her focus to the second marine. "Did you hear something, Fordel?" she asked sweetly.

He shook his head like it would cure the plague. "No ma'am. I didn't hear nothin', and I didn't see nothin'. Jene just collapsed all of a sudden like. Must have eaten something, he must." Hurriedly, the second marine helped up the first one and began walking as fast as he could in the direction of the base. The Commander snorted again and went back the way she came, towards the busier street.

Zoë turned to face the shopkeeper. "What was that all about?"

"That was Commander Penny. She used to be in charge of the marine detachment here before the doubled its size and sent along Captain Zil. She and the ten that worked with her are the only ones still worth a damn among the whole lot."

Zoë thanked Baer for the supplies and information and headed back to the docks. No point in renting a room when she had a perfectly fine ship to sleep on. Besides, the less time she spent in this town, the better it would probably be for her.

Her (relatively) good mood shattered when she got back to the docks however. Where her boat was was now just empty water. Off to the side, the toll collector was slowing backing up into the house behind him, and the fishermen on the pier were pointedly not looking in her direction.

Zoë stalked over to the toll collector before he could make it to the house. He stiffened as she stopped in front of him, eyes narrowing. "What. Happened. To. My. Boat," she spat, tone low and dangerous.

"I dun-" He barely got the words out when Zoë's hand dropped to the hilt of her katana, and she gave him a sharp look. "Marines, miss. Theys was asking about the boat, said it looked good like. We couldn't do nothin' to stop 'em, theys took it to the base." He sounded scared enough to not try to lie, or he was a much better actor than she gave him credit for. "We couldn't do nothin', honest. Please don't chop me up, miss, I got-"

Zoë took her hand off her sword and almost spat. His desperation was plain to see, and it was too consistent with what happened earlier. Besides, if these people wanted to steal her ship, all they'd have to do is take it out to sea and wait there, no point in staying here for her to take revenge on them.

Zoë gazed out over the westward facing harbor and towards the sun that had just about set. There was no point in heading to the marine base tonight, she probably wouldn't be able to get it away in any case. Nighttime winds blew east, and she doubted her little tub could outpace a warship.

She considered asking Hunt and the fishermen for help, but their inability to do anything worried her. She didn't trust they'd have the backbone to say anything if the marines did something else. Instead, she headed back up the street she came down, towards Madame Baer's little store.

"Back so soon, miss?" the shopkeeper asked. "Did ye forget to buy somethin'?"

Her warm smile faded as Zoë began to speak. "The marines seem to have appropriated my boat. Do you know where I might sleep the night?"

"Oh no," she said, expression dark. "You're not thinkin' of… You know…" Zoë's expression didn't change. "Well, it's not my problem if you do somethin' rash. I've got an empty room where my son used to sleep, if you don't mind an old cot."

Her serious demeanor lasted all of a few extra seconds before her face split into a huge grin. "I'm just going to ask to buy it off them, Mistress Baer. I'm not going to storm a navy base for a little boat like that, but I will take you up on that offer, thank you."

"Oh," replied the shopkeeper, almost seeming saddened that Zoë wasn't going off to chop up marines. "Well, I got plenty of soup on the stove, if you don't mind watin' a little while."

Baer closed up the shop while Zoë waited at the table. The two talked as they ate, meaning the shopkeeper talked a lot and Zoë mostly listen. She learned that the town used to have a very small marine detachment, but someone higher up had decided the town would make a good spot for a base of operations for the entire quadrant of the South Blue. Lieutenant Penny, who was in charge of the town before, was promoted to Commander Penny, and became the second in command of the new base. Unfortunately, the man they had chosen to command the base had a nasty streak, which was only revealed once he moved out of headquarters and out of supervision.

"He plays tin god out here," Baer told Zoë. "Don't give a damn what happens to us so long as no one can report it. Poor Penny can't even write a report for headquarters because he just stops 'em all. He don't have the authority to demote her, but we all know he would in a heartbeat."


Zoë's night wasn't particularly restful, as she kept waking up to make sure she still had all of her possessions. She left early in the morning, before her host had awoken. She left a note asking the shopkeeper to make sure nothing happened to the supplies she left in the room that had been provided, and thanked the woman for her generosity.

The crisp morning air was chill at this time of year, and Zoë zipped up her jacket for warmth. She made her way up through the town in the direction of the marine base unhurriedly. A dirt path separated the town proper from the base, which seemed rather unnecessary to her. Why not just build the base closer to town?

Two guards stood outside the wall to the base, keeping watch on the road. Both straightened visibly when Zoë came into sight, though they seemed to relax a little when they got a good look at her. Based on the actions of the two dimwits from the previous night, these marines didn't seem to take women who couldn't threaten them seriously. A trait that might backfire here, she thought with glee.

The two marines stepped into the road, forming a human blockade to stop her from entering the base. Both topped Zoë's diminutive stature by a solid eight inches or more, a fact which seemed to only enhance their feeling of superiority.

"State yer business, miss," drawled the slightly taller of the two, hand moving rather obviously to the flintlock pistol at his hip. The other guard contented himself with either sneering or leering, it was hard to tell.

"I wish to speak to one of the base commanders," she replied in a soft voice. "Can you give me directions to one?"

"Oh ho," said the one who had spoken before. "Lookin' to talk to Captain Zil are ye?" His eyes made a far too long inspection of her body before latching onto her sheathed katana. "That's a mighty pretty sword, girly," he said at last. "Little thing like you don't need that. Tell ye what, how about you give that toy to us and we'll show ye to the captain." The other didn't say anything, only moving his hand towards his own pistol either as a threat or a precaution.

"No, thank you," she responded, letting a little steel slip into her voice. "Please take me to see one of the base commanders." While she kept her posture just as unthreatening, her tone made it clear she wasn't to be taken for granted.

"Tch," the talking marine huffed. "Yer no fun. Oi, Arral," he said, turning to the marine beside him, "take her in to see the captain or the commander, whichever you see first." The marine in question moved to attention, then headed off into the base, sparing a quick glance to see if Zoë was following.

The inside was exactly what she expected. White walls, clean floors, the occasional picture of a higher-ranking marine or bounty poster, and doors that seemed to have been made using a cookie cutter. The marine, Arral, led her down a few twisting corridors to what appeared to be some sort of office.

"What's your name," he whispered as they got up to the room.

"Zoë," she replied, deciding that including her last name would only lead to more questions. Besides, it was kind of against the spirit of the challenge to use family connections to get everything she wanted.

The marine stepped into the office a few paces ahead of her, loudly clearing his throat. "A Zoë here to see you, sir," the man almost shouted. The woman almost winced at his volume, ears lowering in protest, but that was only the beginning.

"Is there," a bellowing response came out of the office. "Well then show her in, man!" Uproarious laughter followed, as well as the sound of a chair scraping against stone.

The marine swiftly came to attention before stepping to the side to allow Zoë in. The space was surprisingly well maintained though the man behind the massive desk probably didn't do his own upkeep.

Speaking of that man, he stood more than twice as tall as Zoë, and almost three times as wide at the shoulder. He wore a white dress uniform with the jacket of the marines over it, arms not in the sleeves. It made Zoë wonder why they even made the jackets with sleeves anymore if no one used them. The man's face had three horizontal scars running across his cheeks and nose that looked like little stripes, and not an ounce of fat on him. Upon seeing her, his laughter faded somewhat, only to be replaced by a voice that shouldn't be allowed to speak while indoors. Or within a hundred feet of another person.

"Hello, little woman!" it blasted. "What can the marines do for you today? Find a lost dog? Missing cat? Help you move some furniture?" His every word seemed the shake the walls and windows of the room, and her ears pressed completely flat to compensate.

"Not quite, sir," she said once the ringing was done and she was fairly certain she'd be able to hear herself talk. "I-"

"Well, out with it," he interrupted. "The marines are very busy people, helping people and all that!"

Zoë merely stared at him blankly for a moment. Either he was an idiot or was very good at making people underestimate him. "I was actually looking for my boat, sir. It wasn't docked where I left it when I got back, and I had heard the marines had seen it." She carefully did not say, 'stole it', as one didn't pick fights while standing in the middle of the enemy's base.

"A boat is it?" he asked rhetorically, laughing all the while. "Marine, have you seen any strange ships around?" Despite his lackadaisical manner, his eyes snapped to the other man with unerring accuracy, considering he hadn't even been looking in their direction before.

"Err, yes sir," Arral replied, "there is-"

"And what would your boat happen to look like, little lady," the marine Captain interrupted. Clearly he was smart enough to stop her from claiming any old ship as hers.

"It's a quarter schooner, one cabin on the back half, couple of barrels in it," she said more to the marine than the captain.

Captain Zil's eyes rolled lazily from her to the man next to her, who seemed to gulp at the unspoken question. "A-a ship befitting that description was found just floating in the sea last night, s-sir," he stammered. "It's currently docked in our harbor."

"Ah, what a stroke of fortune for you, miss," said the captain. "Unfortunately, as we seem to have rescued your ship, it would normally be ours. But!" he bellowed suddenly, fist slamming onto the desk with enough force to make the wood crack, "I'm sure you could buy it back from us, for, say… fifty thousand beri! Nay, a hundred thousand!" He continued laughing with a triumphant look on his face. Until.

"Okay," replied Zoë. The massive marine's guffaws cut off like a knife.

"...What?" was all he could manage.

"I said, 'Okay,'" she reiterated. "Fifty thousand beri. I'll be back in a few days with the money," she continued on into his silence, "so make sure not to get any scratches on my boat." With that, she left, taking a perverse glee in the silence of the office.

Unfortunately, it only lasted for a second or so, before the captain began laughing again.

Leaving the marine base wasn't quite as difficult as she feared. Though she got the occasional strange look (and leer) from the marines, it turned out that the Captain's office was just one hallway down from the main corridor. While the marine that had escorted her in had gone through numerous winding passages was beyond her.

The marine who had done the talking when she arrived was no longer there. Instead, another two schleps held the post, watching for intruders and shivering in the cold morning air. Zoë gave them a brief nod as she left, not wanting to seem impolite.


Predictably, most of the town was awake at this point. Fishing was best at dawn and dusk,after all, and the streets bustled around her as she made her way down the other street of the town. As expected, it held far more points of interest. Fishmongers, various shops, bars, restaurants, and even a repair shop. More than she had expected of such a poor town.

Deciding one was as good as any other, Zoë made her way into one of the bars, the most likely place to find bounty posters and to hear gossip. She was treated to the sight of a slightly pudgy man, perhaps seven feet tall, cleaning tables with a rag so dirty that she was amazed it hadn't simply disintegrated. He was missing his right arm at the elbow, his left foot was made of wood, and his face had so many scars that it was impossible to tell where one started or stopped.

Other than the mutilated man, the bar was empty, not that anything else was to be expected so early. Much as fishermen like to drink, they had to think about their profits first. Drinking came in the afternoon, when the fish retreated from the sun and there was far more time to spare.

The grizzled man look up at the sound of the door closing. Somehow, it appeared that both his eyes had been spared when whatever happened to him had occurred.

"Mite early for someone to come in," he growled in a voice like gravel, echoing her previous thoughts. However, he didn't seem to begrudge her entrance, and went back to "cleaning".

Zoë took the chance to look around the simple bar. There were perhaps ten tables, with four chairs apiece. The bar proper had only three chairs seated at it, though plenty of kegs behind it. On one of the far walls was what she sought; a bounty board. She made her way over, taking care to skirt the long way around where the man was cleaning. She didn't want to get any closer to that rag than necessary. The man grunted as she passed; as a greeting or acknowledgement, she didn't know.

Unfortunately for her, the board held a paltry six posters on it, two of which were useless to her. Eustass "Captain" Kid and Killer weren't anywhere close to this area, and even if they were, she didn't want to get anywhere near them. Another held a name she had never heard of, surprising with a bounty of thirty-six million, one Jewelry Bonney. Thankfully, not all of them were big fish, and she turned her attention to the other three. Pad "Mystic" Remra was also out, as she heard rumors of him reaching the Grand Line before she had even left.

That meant that her only two real options were Jor Mance, worth one million, and someone named Cudgel, worth one hundred thousand.

"Hey, mister," Zoë called over her shoulder, not bothering to turn around. "Know anything about these blokes?"

"Eh," he grunted. "Let me see which one you mean." The sound of wood scraping followed, and Zoë turned to watch as the man made his way over to the board faster than she expected of a person with his injuries. Once he got close enough to see properly, she motioned towards to the two in question. "Eh," the grunted again, followed by a vigorous throat clearing. "Yeah, I heard of 'em."

"Anything recent?" she pressed.

"Yeah," he replied, then reached towards the board and tore off the paper for Cudgel. "This 'un died last week." He crumpled the paper into a ball, then threw it towards the corner farthest from the door. "Other 'un's local, lives on the other side of this island."

"Really?" Zoë's surprise was probably justified, considering there was a marine base on the island. Any pirates making their homes here should have been routed by now, or at least they'd have been smart enough to leave.

"Yeah," the mangled man repeated. "Marines don't give two tosses of shit what happens to us. Besides, that Captain Zil up there knows that if there isn't enough pirate activity down here, they'll move him an' his men somewhere else. And he might not be in charge of that new place." The man snorted, the pulled out the rag and went back to cleaning.

It was, Zoë thought, a rather absurd situation, but luckily one she could take advantage of. "Where, exactly, is he?" she asked the man.

"Eh," he grunted again, turning around to look at Zoë with an appraising gaze. "You a bounty hunter," he asked gruffly.

"Something like that," she replied.

The man made his predictable grunt, looking at her for a few more seconds, before shrugging. "There's a cove on the opposite side of the island from the base. Can't miss it. Should have a ship anchored in it, pirate flag with a harpoon down the center of it."

"Thank you," said Zoë, turning to leave. The man just grunted again and wished her good luck.


A/N

Put this in the wrong category by accident, oops.