Eleven – Pirates on the Horizon! The Doctor, the Assailant, and the Fishman
"Aki, how long ye plan on wearing them mittens?" Captain Kiba yells at me, a couple days after we've left Mock Town.
"Doc said to keep 'em on for week, Cap'n." I respond.
"Our doc?" Asks the captain.
I shake my head no. "Port clinic."
The captain reaches under his hat and scratches his scalp. "I wouldn't trust the quacks in that town with a scraped elbow. Go see what Malkov thinks." Dang. I'd hoped to avoid this…
From what I've seen of Dr. Malkov, he's a reclusive old man who doesn't speak much with others, but he knows how to treat illness and injury better than most doctors. He carries with him an air that suggests he was raised in a higher class of society than the rest of the crew; how he ended up a pirate is beyond me. When I walk into his office on the ship he's fast asleep in his chair, a book over his face, snoring loudly. "Doc." I say. My voice should've been loud enough to wake him, but he keeps on sawing logs. "Doc!" I shout. No change. Annoyed, I pinch his nose shut. His snoring stops, and a few moments later he jolts awake and falls out in his chair with a crash.
"Aki? Goodness, you nearly gave me a heart attack." Grumbles Malkov, getting back to his feet. He has a slight Mariejoian accent that gives me pause for a moment.
"Quit bein' such a heavy sleeper, then. Cap'n told me to come pay you a visit."
"About…?"
"These." I hold up my arms.
"Ah, vhat? Is he vanting me to take zem off?"
"I guess, I dunno."
"Hm. Well, lemme have a look zen." Several minutes later and my arms breath the sea air once again. I try bending my wrists, and am rewarded with a bit of pain. "Still hurt?"
"Just a tidge." I answer. He tests a few more spots along my hands and forearm, looking to see what still hurts.
"Vhat happened, anyway?" He asks me.
"Wouldn't believe me if I told you." I say.
"Please. Vhen you get as old as me, you've seen so much crazy stuff you'll believe just about anysing. And if you want a proper check-up, I should know anyvay."
This oughta be interestin'. "The Knock-Up Stream got me."
Dr. Malkov fumbles in his seat for a moment. "Beg your pardon? Ze Knock-Up Stream 'got' you?"
"That's what I said. You noticed it while we was at port, didn't you? It was just off the coast a' Jaya. I was chasin' down a bounty," I explain, altering the tale just a bit, "and his ship got caught in the Knock-Up Stream. Shot us up a good piece. I abandoned ship before we was too high, but it was still a drop several hundred feet before I hit the ocean." I try to relay all of this as nonchalantly as I could, but it's rather difficult considering how ridiculous of a story it is.
The doctor takes a handkerchief and wipes his brow. "If zat's true, I'd say it's a miracle you're alive at all."
I grin. "Doc at Mock Town said the same thing. Guess I'm built a' tough stuff."
"Qvite. Regardless zough, I'd better look you over, just to make sure you don't have any furzer injuries to speak of."
"'Look me… over'?" I repeat, with a cringe.
"Yes, yes. Injuries don't always trigger pain you know. Somesing could've become dislodged here or bruised zere, and it vouldn't manifest itself until later. Best to treat anysing here and now."
I let out something halfway in between a sigh and a groan. "What happens here stays in here, right?" I ask.
"Yes, yes, of course, of course, I'm a doctor before a pirate. Vhy are you so being so shy?" Reckon I gotta take his word for it. Systematically I remove my hat, goggles, and bandana and set them down on the floor. I expect a startling reaction, but the doctor doesn't give one. "Aha, zat's it then. I understand. I've seen lots of vomen disguise zemselves as men and sneak aboard as pirates. More commonplace than you sink. Don't blame you vis zis crew. Vell, vell, what are you vaiting for? Ze rest comes off too. Don't give me zat look; I'm a doctor!" I give a weak smile, and comply. What the hell am I worried about? He's a fragile old man. It ain't like you to be so timid, Aki. I lift up my shirt so he can check for broken ribs and he lets out a tiny gasp. "Zose are some dreadful scars on your back. How long have you had zem?"
"Since I was a child." I tell him. "Don't ask me how I got 'em."
"Vasn't going to. You're far from ze only pirate with a past they'd rather forget." If only I could be allowed to forget.
Dr. Malkov determines that I have no additional injuries. Wrapping my arm in bandages from the palm to the forearm, he tells me not to do anything too strenuous with my wrists for the next week, but that other than that I should be fine. He then sends me on my way and resumes the nap I had interrupted.
Except for one incident, not much happens within the next three weeks. Overstocked on food and supplies, we sail the open seas at a leisurely pace. In that entire timeframe, we don't come across a single ship. I had always thought the Grand Line was full of pirates, but I never really took into account just how big the sea actually is. As odd as it is for someone of my species, I've spent most of my life inland, having with only a vague concept of the sea and its grandeur for most of my life. It's quite ridiculous just how much of nothing it seems to be, even if it does become incredibly violent at times, and without any warning.
"Aki." Larson shouts to me one night, as I'm swabbing the deck. "You're coming with me. Now."
"Captain's got me swabbin' the deck. He change his mind?" I say.
"The captain can stow his damn orders." Larson scoffs. "Come on." He leads me down below deck, and I follow begrudgingly. I don't know what's up, but I might could use this to drive a wedge between him and the captain. We make our way into a spare storage room, unused and empty of anything but dust and a few boxes.
"The hell's this all about?" I ask.
Behind me, Larson shuts and locks the door. The only light is from the stars and a low moon beaming cold light into the room through a circular window. "Your clothes." He says, pulling out a pistol from behind his waist. "Take them off."
"Excuse me?"
"Did I stutter, princess? Do it, or I swear I'll tell everyone your secret."
"This disguise is the only thing keepin' that 'secret' from gettin' out." I know what this rat's up to, but I'll be damned if I don't go down without a fight.
"I locked the door; no one's going to know a thing. Now do as I say!" His breathing is heavy, uncontrolled.
I growl out a sigh, and follow his order, hesitantly, cautiously, testing every move. The hat, goggles, and bandana come off first, exposing my face. I look him in the eyes in a scowl. He doesn't flinch. Perhaps he wasn't entirely sure of what he was blackmailing me with, and needed confirmation. He took a moment, then growls "Alright, now the rest."
"I know what you're thinkin' a' doin', Larson…" I tell him, throwing my cloak to the side. A crazy idea pops into my head, and with nothing else other than overpowering him and jumping ship as a course of action, I decide to try my luck. "…and you'd be plum crazy to try it."
He cocks an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" He snarls.
"I mean," I say, grabbing the collar of my shirt, pretending as if I'll continue, "don't you know what happens to human fellas who do… that with fishwomen?" He doesn't say anything, only starts to look a little frightened. I think it's workin'! Okay, come up with somethin' good, Aki. "That look tells me you don't." I pause. "Certainly you wondered why fishmen are so strong, right? Well they gotta be! Because, well… Now how can I put this best?" Walking slowly up to him, I hold my hand up in the air in front of his face. "You ever take a banana, or somethin' nice and soft, and just…" I clench my hand into a fist, "do like this to it? Squish it into a nice, pulpy mess? Eh? Let your imagination run wild for a bit there, hot shot."
He looks genuinely horrified, but tries to keep his courage about him. "Y-You try anything funny, and I swear you'll regret it!" He boasts, shaking the gun in my face.
I continue the charade. "Oh, it ain't a matter of tryin' or not tryin'. It's like a motor reflex; it just can't be helped." I say with a shrug. "Ah, and then there's the matter a' the teeth…"
"Okay! Okay! Shit, forget it!" Larson yells, and lowers his weapon. "You're not anything like I…" He trails off into mumbles.
"Like you…?" I taunt.
Before he can say anything, a voice rings out through the speaking tubes. "Ship on the horizon!" It's the voice of the lookout. "1 o'clock, heading away from us! Methinks we can overbear them and steal the wind from their sails!"
"Damn it! Don't think this is over, princess." Larson sneers as he swings open the door and slams it on his way out. I almost want to burst out into laughter at him for falling for it like a chump, but the captain'd have a fit if I'm not present immediately, so I make haste in putting my disguise back on and heading up above deck.
"Aki!" The captain spits. "Where the devil ye been? This ain't the time for lollygaggin'! Swim out to their ship and be at the ready! If ye hear cannons firin', smash the bottom o' their hull!"
"Aye aye, sir!" I say with all the punctuation of a Marine recruit. I throw my hat to the deck, leap into the water, and dart through the waves out towards the other ship.
When I'm about three quarters of the way there however, I come upon something I had not expected at all to see: a fishman, swimming in the opposite direction, coming my way. At first I think he's just a large fish, but as we come closer, his shape becomes more humanoid, and then I spot a face. I immediately ready myself for a fight, but then a voice travels through the water. "Oi, you there!" Is that his? "You with that ship's crew?" How do I respond? The fishman swims close enough that I can make out what he looks like. He has many arms, eight or so if I had to guess, and his skin is the same color as mine, a pinkish lavender hue. He actually has hair, unlike me – a dirty brown color, tied back behind his head. Across his eyes is a black mask, not unlike something you might see on the stereotypical image of thief.
I shrug my shoulders at him. "Eh?" he says. "Can you not hear me?" I mouth out that I can, but he doesn't seem to get it, so I point upwards towards the water's surface, and swim towards it. I surface, and he comes up a second later. "What's the matter man, could you not hear me down there?" He says a second time.
"No, I could hear you just fine! How'd you do that, though? Talk underwater? I ain't able to do that."
"Seriously?" He messes with his hair for a moment. "Well, anyway, you're with the crew of that ship, right?"
"Yeah, you with that one?"
"That I am. My captain wishes to speak with yours. Go tell him quickly that we come to trade, not to fight. Be quick about it too, before this turns ugly." I nod, and take a good look at his ship. It's huge; I thought ours was big, but this one dwarfs it by far. The front sails are black, bearing a Jolly Roger with little pointy animal ears on top of the skull. Adorning the top of the ship's bow is a giant grinning fox's head. Leaving the fishman to return to his own ship, I make haste back to mine. The two vessels are much closer to one another now, and it takes little time to return back.
I leap up onto the deck, startling a few of the crewmates. Captain Kiba is at the helm. "Captain!" I shout. "Talked with a fella from their crew, a fishman. He says-"
The captain interrupts me. "Aye, we got the message too. Stay on guard though, men. Could be a trap. Their firepower be looking far greater than ours. Pull up nice and tight with their ship, so's that they can't fire upon us, but we can pelt them if we like." He then laughs boastingly at his own plan.
We scoot the ship up close with theirs. At this vantage point, we can truly grasp the magnitude of its size. I find myself in awe, as do most of our crew, that something that gigantic stays afloat.
"Fehhh feh feh feh!" A ridiculous laugh bellows from onboard the gargantuan ship. We all strain our necks to look upwards. Looking over the deck's edge is a short, middle-aged, pot-bellied man with absurd hair. "Who among you is captain?" he shouts.
"That be me." Kiba replies. "Captain Kiba o' the Fang Frog pirates!"
"Excellent! In that case, let me reveal to you my intentions!" The short man says with a strange sort of pride in his voice. "I, Silver Fox Foxy of the Foxy Pirates, hereby challenge you to a Davy Back Fight!"
