SH: (walks in, hampered by the drygrass cough) Just for the record (hoff) , this is a intermission/filler part before (achooo!) the actual arc begins. Thus, it's mainly to explain (hoff) the plot a bit better and reveal new characters essential to the storyline. Expect some non-OC cameos as well, ACHOOOOOOOO!!!!!! (gets sent flying by the super sneeze)

Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece, or Kilnorc's works. Any thing pertaining to other OC authors is their own. Please read and enjoy Kilnorc's OP fic and his other fanfiction, they're quite good! And if I did own One Piece, I would at least find out where the heck the other crewmembers are, and I doubt Oda will turn his focus away from Luffy to individually make new chapters for each person. All hail the last Saw movie!


CH 28

"Day 1. Mom and Dad dropped me off at the Marine Base with a loaf of bread and a comb. Bawled my eyes out for hours. The Marine chief kicked me in the face to stop the tears. It hurts. Love, Alto. "

It was said that Thriller Bark was the largest Ship in the world. A entire island, refitted from the East Blue surrounded by a thick wall with a mouth to trap pirate ships. How it was defended against Sea Kings was a mystery since lower ranked zombies were along the edges and weren't exactly great fighters, but it could be assumed the Mysterious Trio had some ways of combat.

However, those rumors were only rumors processed by those in the Navy, since they wanted to keep their own things secret. One month after Enies Lobby fell, the war between Marines and Pirates had escalated. And chaos had erupted in several islands because of it.

Those in the Marines trained harder than ever to meet the standards of the Vice Admirals, randomly chosen for the long trip ahead and transported directly to the Red Line. Because of Ace's capture, Whitebeard will soon be up in arms to stop the execution from occuring.

Which comes back to who has the biggest ship. Namely, the Navy Fleet. Over 100,000 tons and 570 ft long, with a width of 88 miles, a new form of ship was made for the sole purpose of protecting both the crew and the 3 Admirals that came with it. It made the Leviathan that was hanging by several grappler chains on the side look like a chew toy by comparison.

In other words, it was classified as the first Supercruiser, a unique battleship that could take on enemies both in the water and in the air, with a rather large crew made of different Navy personnel in the tens of thousands. After the first bottle of wine was smashed against the hull, the Leviathan and other Marine Warships clung to the sides with anchors and chains as it made it's way through the Calm Belt's entryway.

Unfortunately, despite it's size and heavy firepower, it was freaking slow since no sails were equipped to it and relied on steam-powered wheels on each side to push it along. Hence, everyone's nerves were on edge since there was little to do.

Save for the paperwork. "Help! I'm drowning!!!!" Alto thrashed wildly, trying to stay above the workload that had practically overfilled his personal office aboard the W.G.G. ( World Government Guardian) Tsuru. From open vents in the ceiling, forms, documents and office supplies fell down each minute causing him a bit of alarm.

As a Captain, he had to fill out the important documents for roster changes, payment plans, local island repairs, drafts, marine selections, weapon repairs and so on. However, because of his 'not interested' attitude, he barely felt the need to work on such trival items when he craved a challenge. Which sorta explained why the Leviathan was in such disrepair and disorderly since there was no change for it.

"Darn it all! I hate this sorta stuff!" He said angrily, producing a red stamp with a ink pad to randomly hit the files that spread around him in his small 7 foot office. Having only a foot remaining of space with his feet dangling above the ground, he passed the papers that he signed and processed through a thin slot in the wall to take to the Main Mailing Room.

He wasn't the only one. Dozens of Commanders, Captains, Commodores and even the elusive Rear Admirals who recieved their offices were under constant pressure to fill out important forms without the time and effort to read them first.

"When did we owe 11 million berri for the destruction of a oil tanker? Or this 45,000 berri restaurant that ended up flattened to rubble? I know we had that mishap when Bolero got bubblegum and went bonkers on Luda Island, but I didn't expect this much property damage." He muttered, his eyes silently crying inside looking at the bills of how much he currently owed. "Looks like I'm back to ramen again for the rest of the year..."

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Luckily, one floor down, the Lieutenant Commanders, Lieutenants and lower ranked officers had no such troubles since they had barracks set up. It wasn't like the Captains needed them after all, so they felt it was fine to party all night and day. Dancing on tables, playing pranks, flushing newbies in the toilets, starting up hazing rituals, laying around or doing normal chores, it was a rowdy fest of booze and fun since their superiors were unable to keep them under control. And because of it, seamen went to other barracks to check out the competition and study the infamous Gandros Marines who were said to be the toughest despite lacking quite a few members. And boy were they surprised....

"Another round, boys!" Prelude said drunkenly, sitting on top of a pile of her halfway comatose victims at the Barrack's bar. Ten new shot glasses of Grape Wine slid down the row which she picked up one at a time to drink out of. The other Liuetenants, trying to save face, drank to their fill in order to catch up to her.

"GOOD GRIEF, PRELUDE. DON'T DRINK ALL OF IT, EVEN MERMEN LIKE A STIFF PATCH OF ALE AND GROG ONCE IN A WHILE."Bolero muttered, sitting on one of the metal 'lunchroom' tables, eating his daily rations of Amberfish.

"Heh, Bolero, don't be stupid. Last time I gave you a wine keg, you ended up in the hospital for a week. You're such a lightweight with alcohol." Prelude smirked, gleefully downing another shot.

"AND YOU'RE JUST DROWNING YOURSELF IN IT BECAUSE THE GIRL YOU DISLIKE IS BECOMING MORE POPULAR WITH THE MARINE FANBASE. OWCH!" Bolero teased her until she shot him 5 times in the face with her red flares, making him wince from the impacts. "WHAT, IT'S TRUE."

"Yeah, I have about five different Niri pin-up posters by my fold-up bed." One of the Warrant Officers said, blushing a bit about his idol.

"Posters? I got wallet-sized pictures in my pocket, plus a mini-wax replica action figure." Another marine boasted, revealing over 30 pictures lined up of his idol in different poses.

"I got a 'Attack on Enies Lobby" bibliography book made by the marine survivors with the crew's signatures on it. They look forged but it has plenty of pictures." A boastful young lad said, pulling out the book from his knapsack so everyone can read it.

"Cool, I got a few T-Shirts with her face on them." A chubby marine with freckles said, eating a chocolate ice cream cone.

"I got Niri trading Cards with 3 super deluxe holographic types!" A tall marine with smooth silky hair said proudly, taking out his wallet to show a collection of cards inside.

"Me too, wanta trade for a limited edition Niri in Swimsuit card?" The guy's best friend giggled, showing off a picture album of the AxeHead crew as they swapped cards.

"I hear Captain Attachan enlarged some of her Bounty Posters to paste onto various buildings so everyone could recognize her." A pair of gossiping girls said in unison, their eyes sparkling with admiration.

CRUNCH! The Bar Table was split in half due to Prelude's monstrous karate chop, her teeth gritting so much that sparks were coming out of her mouth. Even her shallow, liquor-hazed eyes were burning ablaze with rage. "Damn it!!!!! Stop talking about her already, she's a freaking pirate for crying out loud! Marines capture pirates, we shouldn't admire them! Next person who states something related to her gets a cap in the face!"

With that, everyone turned away and discussed meager conversation with each other, knowing that they had caused Prelude of all people to blow a gasket.

"......" Requiem gulped down a jug of fine wine without stopping for air, then refilled it to the brim to chug it all over again. Being completely soulless meant that the effects of being drunk were negated completely, yet she watched as Prelude growled in frustration.

"I swear, I respect her for saving her friend and all, even taking out that CP9 jerk. Never did like those guys since they were nasty assassins. But the guys in the Merchandising department are really milking it overboard to make these pirates famous by appealing to the Otaku-types in the Navy." Prelude grunted, moving to sit down next to Requiem and asked for a light grape wine.

"....ignore it...." Was Requiem's reply, since she seriously didn't care about her comrade's problems. If anything, she was overreacting over nothing.

"Easy for you to say." Prelude's voice sounded slurred. "I mean really, we just learn now after Enies Lobby fell that King of all people was taken out by a Miko like yourself. Heck, even I was a bit uncomfortable with that guy since his face was ugly as sin."

".....not a true one..." Was her answer, plain and simple. In other words, she didn't care at all.

"And what about you, Bolero? Found anyone in the bounty posters to be your rival?" Prelude giggled slyly, losing her consciousness by the second as she drank out of the bottle this time.

"NAH, LOOKED OVER THEM. CAN'T FIND ANY ONE WHO WOULDN'T GET SICK BY MY POISON." Bolero laughed, causing his tendrils to wildly 'slap' anyone close by, sending them into a temporary relapse with foam bubbling out of the mouth. He ducked quickly to avoid an incoming Marine seaman which was pitched over him like a softball.

"...invitation time...." Requiem's eyes narrowed, watching as more and more marines were sent flying through the air. Prelude grinned, amused at the sight of men smashing through tables and chairs like they were bowling pins. In the center of the barracks, Crescendo was fending off about fifty different men with a wild smirk on her face as they closed in like a den of wolves.

It was rather simple, defeat the little girl and you get a Rank on the Leviathan. Being Rank 10, Cresendo was effectively the test of passage for those who wanted a piece of the action, but she was also the most difficult. Especially since she weilded Hoppi as her weapon of choice, slamming it hard into the fragile bones of the Marine officers. Already gurneys were brought in by the medical corps to collect and gather the fallen so they would be revived later with severe injuries only Navy Insurance can pay for.

Gladyr had no trouble getting 'customers' for his services now that the captain had recovered quickly from his injury, standing with a row of professional doctors on the far left corner of the room to receive the 'fallen' patients who were out of breath and too sore to move. He was enjoying the fact that he wasn't anywhere near his walking disaster of a captain, conversing with his own brethren and testing new medical tools for faster repair.

"Hey, Gladyr! Want a pint or two?" Prelude sluggishly called out to the doctor, raising a large mug to cheer in a carefree fashion.

"Nah, you know that I gave up the stuff long ago when I fell overboard that one time and you saved me from swimming downwards without a clue how to go up." Gladyr waved her off, sweatdropping at how immoral her behavior was since she was too young to enjoy that stuff. "Besides, it damages the liver and kidneys."

"Bah, I'm intolerant to that stuff." Prelude said, chugging down another bottle of grape wine despite needing to use the restroom. "Of course, later on I'll be hogging the co-ed toilet, so don't think of coming in."

"Who would want to? ARRGH!" THUNK! Gladyr slumped backwards as the heavy wine cask slammed straight into his face, knocking him out from the weight and speed of Prelude's pitch.

"Idiot..." Prelude puffed her cheeks out in anger, then revolved the bar stool around a few times in a playful manner, kicking off the floor to gain speed.

"....your momma...." Requiem said plainly, turning her head slowly to the right as she heard a fast heartbeat approaching them.

"What?" Prelude said, barely registering reality at the moment. That was when a tall, brazen-tanned woman with short red hair down to half her neck and emerald eyes came up and socked her straight in the face. She was wearing a Commodore uniform with multi-colored feathers spread out along the shoulders and pants. A 7 foot long bazooka was strapped to her back, designed to illuminate the night sky for a few hours.

"Daughter of mine, didn't I tell you that the open bar is for those with cash? You've been calling for more and more but I don't see any pay. You should be glad I've been watering these down so you wouldn't get sick." Amelia Hikari shouted, clenching the bloody fist in outright rage. "Liutenant or not, you still have to pay for those drinks!"

"Yes, mom." Prelude groaned, rubbing the sore bleeding spot on her forehead. Going into her wallet, she brought out a few hundred berri notes and handed it over to her mom. After hearing that her daughter, who gained her previous title, took such a savage hit from Dreamweaver, Amelia signed her transferrable slip to keep an eye on her by working the Local Barracks.

"I swear, you're as unkempt as your father." Amelia muttered as she went back to cleaning mugs and refilling them for the countless joyful marines. "I'm cutting you off for now, come back in 9 hours or so when it's out of your system."

"Killjoy." Prelude grumbled, stumbling about off the stool and into the crowd of onlookers. If anything, watching Crescendo's fight would help her relax a little as men and women held fistfuls of berri notes to bet on the fighters.

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"Attention! Attention, please!" A heavy blaring of sound screeched out from the Den Den Mushi loudspeakers, causing a few water glasses to crack and shattered several windows in the process. Some Marine Officers even attempted to block it out by covering their ears, but ended up with blood on their hands as a result.

"This is Shadow Cabinet Vice-Admiral Moe Haggins! To those Captains currently drowning in files, we have now sealed off the venting system for the time being and unlocked the specialized padlock doors. Once you get out, proceed to the War Room. Once everyone is here, we will proceed with our plans for the upcoming months." A musky, dry-sounding voice said, as the flow of bills, documents, important forms, charts, graphs and other items of self-interest stopped pouring in the offices. The latches, which were supposed to be shut, detached automatically and the doors swung open as one.

And just as quickly, any unsuspecting marine passing by were hit by the heavy flood that ravaged the hallways like a giant anaconda, buried alive like the Marine Captains trying to keep their heads up for oxygen. Small windows broke apart from the pressure, spewing out forms and license agreements into the unmerciful sea. Luckily the stairwells were closed off, and soon the flow was reduced to a drabble in a matter of minutes.

The damage was minor, but painful at the same time. Many suffered intense paper cuts all over their unprotected arms and legs, or burns from skidding across the floor once it smashed them down and pushed them across the tiling and walls. Alto was one of the lucky ones, using his strings to create a Double Hand Ball Barrier to shield him from suffocation and being dragged along, yet his hands were sore from writing his signature so much.

"The toils of a captain can be overbearing when claiming responsibility for the property damage his crew does." He sighed, retracting his strings as he stood up slowly. "I really need to give Bolero a freaking muzzle and a guide dog one of these days."

TWANG! A oversized lawn dart nearly grazed his scalp by a mere inch and dug the razor-sharp point into the wall behind him, causing a few of his hairs to 'part'. His first reaction was cringing, but when he realized there was no follow-up, he turned to face a band of seven very obnoxious people that he knew all too well.

Altough each of them were wearing the standard Navy Jacket with the Logo of "Justice" on it, (Alto decided not to put his logo on for personal reasons) they were wearing their own personal clothing around it. Like the weird 5'6" guy with black gelled hair handcrafted into a ducktail mullet with ebon black pointed shades, with chains in his pockets attached to 'morningstars'. The one next to him was a man who never took the time to iron out his clothes or wash his glasses, his head turning to see every possible angle out of nervousness and his legs looked jittery, causing the four guns in his twin holsters on both sides to 'jingle'. The third one in line was a sturdy-built, impatient man with a golden helmet covering most of his head, with specialized goggles and a oxygen tank and tube for easy breathing, and the fancy golden boots with wires and small motors seemed to hum for a while.

Another man wore a cross necklace around his neck and a brown tattered cape on his back, his shoes looked worn out and he looked like he was fasting due to his ribs showing. There was also a young, attractive woman in her 20's, with a long dress that went down to the floor to hide her legs, and wore a black veil over her face. She was being hit on constantly by the guy with puffy blond hair, his eyelashes long and stringy and sorta smelled like peaches in a way, in which most people call a 'Bishonen type'.

In the corner was a young boy, maybe close to Prelude's age, with long unruly black hair running down his back, his arms and legs were covered with protective body armor designed for amplification of physical strikes. And finally, the mass of lard that covered half of the hallway and the reason Alto had to wait his turn, as he was having trouble getting through the doorway into the staircase. Alto pinced his nose since the guy had obviously forgot to shower again, standing in line with the other captains who were impatient to get this over with.

Since they wouldn't be around for a bit, he summarized them in this fashion.

Fonzo Gonzo-Believes in the art of "Cool Justice", his head is steel-plated to protect him against psychic attacks and to pound away at the skulls of others. A naturally decent person, he weilds specialized darts with seastone tips, and has the power of absolute focus, making it hard to miss his target. Like the others, he has mastery over a powerful martial art, his is known as "Koppou", a had-on flash step style with explosive strikes.

Mick Daniels-The most paranoid, has concocked hundreds of rumors and half-truths during his stay in the navy. However, this also makes him very fast on the draw with his Ruger Magnum, a master of the practical art of 'gun fu'.

Welker Bobbo- Genius captain who managed to make a pair of gasoline powered rocket boots. Unfortunately, they can only go about a foot in the air. The kicks are extremely painful though. His mastery is over Krav Maga, a no quarter martial art of crippling and adaptation for keeping himself safe.

Francis Jurin- Religious captain, enjoys a good prayer during each battle and uses a deadly prayer bead in battle. Said to be a Itako since he can revitalize his men depending on the injury. With specialized seastone brass knuckles and knowledge of Jambuvanti Malla-Yuddha, he can force a pirate into a painful submission.

Rebecca- Sharpest tongue in the room, can put down anyone in 2 seconds flat. Well known for having numerous lovers who enjoy being mocked. She specializes in the quick footwork stave martial art known as Silambam, since she always carries a multi-segmented walking stick due to lack of stamina on long hikes hidden on her person.

Nick Walker -Highly vain, likes to look at mirrors reflecting himself. Talented with the rapier and the rose, tries to lure Rebecca into dates. His speciality when he can't fence off with others is Pencak Silat since he is more animal than man in some ways.

Troy Malst-The one guy in the Navy that required nose clips, since the ship he has doesn't have a shower. Burly, tough and a sweaty pig of a man, he hasn't taken a bath in 4 years since he became a captain. Thus, anything he touches turns grimey and spoiled, like causing pimples to sprout on the skin or mold over one's hands. His mastery is over Sambo, a powerful grappling art that takes full use of his immense size of arm reach, causing any pirate to submit voluntarily before passing out.

"To enter the territory, kid, you gotta pay the toll." Fonzo smirked, clenching his hand a bit to show he wanted a roll of berri or more.

"Kid?" Alto leaned his head to the right, slightly confused by the statement. "Aren't we basically in the same class?"

That earned him a super fast snap punch to the head, followed by another 5 punches. All in a single second as Fonzo simply vanished and reappeared before him using the Koppou sliding technique. His glasses took the brunt of it, bending inwards a little before he countered with reverse palm slaps to change the hand's course trajectory.

"Hmmph..." Fonzo grumbled, rubbing the sore knuckles on both hands once he backed up. "Just because we were once classmates, you think you're all that. Lately I've heard you decided to pick on the rodents instead of the tigers like we do everyday."

"It's not like I wanted to avoid confrontation, Fonzo. They held my crewmates hostage, I had to take them on." Alto said sternly, staring him fully in the eyes, even if he couldn't use Haki like the seven of them could.

"Bah. How worthless of you to think so little of your subordinates when they had the tools and ability to escape. You can go, but the War Room is not a child's playground." Fonzo said, speaking for the others and himself as he coolly twisted around with his Navy Jacket flittering in the air like a cape. No use speaking to a fool who couldn't even handle a man with one of the world's most lamest Devil Fruits, he didn't deserve such a powerful title as the legendary "Alto".

"Jerkish jock...." Alto mumbled under his breath, knowing that if it was a real fight, Fonzo would have buried him like a tombstone. He may have gotten the title of Alto for his loyalty and ability to use the wires like a pro, but that in turn spawned many, many enemies wishing to claim his title. What was worse is like him, all seven captains had never eaten a Devil Fruit. Thus, somehow or another, they could beat up pirates with 200 million bounties or higher with their skills and techniques without taking a lot of external damage.

He also blew on his swollen, red hands as soon as they went downstairs, shaking them a bit to let the blood flow normally. Koppou, being a form of 'leaning forward' karate, allowed Fonzo to punch gaping craters into mountains. That by itself made him a very formidable rival to Alto who relied on hand strength to lift and shove objects away.

'I wonder what's on the menu today?' He thought, taking a seperate staircase on the left hallway side. Those who he passed by stood up straight to salute him, or handed him files to be processed later. The documents he recieved were tossed into the mail room since he wasn't in the mood. 'Today's Sunday so I suppose I'll have a Brat or Spaghetti with Meatballs. That is, unless the Captain's Cafe is overcrowded like yesterday.' He shivered, recalling how uncomfortable it felt for him to be trapped in a massive crowd of unfamiliar people awhile realizing that over 30 of them had pilfered his wallet the minute he prepared to pay for his Carrotcake Special.

Luckily, despite his bad navigation skills, he followed the Green Flashing Arrows with the words "War Room" painted on them in large letters. Yellow Arrows were for the maintenance staff, red arrows for the chefs and blue arrows for everyone else trying to get to the hangar or the barracks. Several more officers and door guards saluted him which he gave a curt nod to for acknowledgement.

'Ever since Ace got captured, everythings been so lively despite this ship being on it's maiden voyage. Still...I can't believe so many captains are here to fight one guy. Last I checked, all he had was skill with a Naginata and that haki hocus-pocus.' He thought, going down another stairwell and towards a wide room with two burly, 8 foot tall guards protecting the seastone-laced, 4 foot thick steel doors with several locking mechanisms.

The second they laid their eyes on him, they scowled in disgust. This wasn't the first time some thin-looking, poor-faced, beardless guy came to 'spy' on what goes on, stealing a captain's uniform from the Locker Room. Licking their dry lips, they slowly withdrew their long katanas to teach the brat a lesson in humility. Only to realize their hands were no longer attached to their arms, the blood vessels cauterized.

"Heh...let that be a lesson to the both of you." Alto said calmly, walking towards the entrance as the two rushed him. He threw them like limp rags in a backwards flipping throw by grabbing their other hands upon passing through. "Sausage Roll Toss..."

It was child's play for him to find the lock combination once he was certain both guards were out cold (he put Gladyr's business card in their pockets since he knew the doctor could easily patch up a small injury like that). Slowly by carefully, he unlatched the locks and opened the right door cautiously in case there was a trap behind it.

What he found instead was a well-lite room half the size and width of a football field (high school-sized, not stadium), with a ebon black-painted Adam Wooden table and dozens of chairs on either side. On the walls were pipes designed to 'listen' in to private conversations via the venting system throughout the ship, and personal Den-Den Mushis next to each chair. Charts, graphs and bounty posters were everywhere, even on the floor which he placed his shoes with the others in the left corner of the room.

The Seven Fangs, as he called them, ignored him completely as he walked by to his seat. He 'hopped' over a foot meant to trip him over, then stomped it hard causing Francis to yelp a bit before covering his mouth. 'Gotta have to do better than that....' He thought, not even bothering to sense the killing auras coming off of them. So what if he had defeated pirates below 200 million? They were worth more than that since their strength didn't match the threat level.

"Yo, been a while." Captain Shuu greeted him, looking a bit fatigued after being shot hard by the masked pirate hero known as Sogeking. His right shoulder took the brunt of it, the skin slightly burnt and stung like hell.

"Indeed." Alto nodded, glad to see some familiar faces and one not so decent face like Captains Very Good, Sharingu, Nezumi and T-Bone (who looked like a drowned rat, severely depressed that he lost). He didn't practically like Nezumi very much, but he was one of the few who had ways of keeping the mermen who joined the Navy under his thumb, as well as his knowledge of black trade in the pirate world.

Ensign Makko, although not a captain, was sitting on his own personal chair twiddling his thumbs impatiently for he was under Captain Hina's orders to attend the meeting. Apparently she and Smoker and several other captains had chosen to take their own routes, as well as the Admirals who were currently stationed in the Holy Land for the moment.

He wasn't the only one who seemed out of order since Commodore Pudding Pudding didn't look much worse for wear in his seat, despite nearly drowning in that whirlpool that Arlong's crew whipped up months ago. His braided purple hair was a mess though as the front braid covered half of his face to cover the deep scars from the surgery. It was said he held his breath for over 20 minutes until he reached the surface of the water with his light body mass, then found a long piece of driftwood to lay down on until a day later when a Navy Ship came to pick up Arlong and his defeated crew. He was thirsty, sore and covered with splinters, and parts of his body were damaged severely as a result, but he healed quite well afterwards.

Major Rapanui, as well as his lower ranked Marine Officers Longo, Akibi and Isoka, were chatting up a storm about what to expect from the meeting. Although not many marines knew about their origins, they agreed that because of his handling of pirate ships and hard effort, he and his group could join the cause. That, and because of his friend Hanzo who supplied the Marines with new gadgets and non-lethal weaponry for capturing pirates.

Captain Moor and Commander Jonathan were bickering away in the back about moral and absolute justice, trying to get the other to see that fast beats slow or Strategy beats Recklessness. Despite Jonathan being in charge of G-8, the World Government saw him as a inspiration to prepare for anything Whitebeard might have, allowing Commander Nelson to act as a powerless figurehead at the base until he returned. His wife, Jessica, was among the cooking staff on the Tsuru since she couldn't stand not being near her husband, allowing the Marley brothers to take her place until she got back. Apparently the new menu she had was a hit with everyone on board, save Alto who didn't like it that much due to too much meat and not enough fiber.

And finally, to round things out was a King-sized, bed-ridden Commodore Nelson covered in thick casts with his new consort assistants, Saga and Touma, and his subordinate Commander Shosa. After being cut severely by the traitorous Erik, he was given time off to recover. Without the ability to fan himself since he was paralyzed, the sweat he gave off slowly reduced his body mass inch by inch until he could actually see part of his legs. But because of his rage towards Luffy for screwing up his plans, he decided that going to the New World will help him find other dragons once his body fully recovered. After all, he was the Captain of the 8th Branch.

Saga and Touma, on the other hand, were doing it of their own accord after their bout with Zoro. After enlisting into the Navy, Saga worked his way up to a Lieutenant Rank with Touma as his senior, knowing that if anything he would get a rematch with his old friend, having the support of the village and Maya. In a way, they were Nelson's 'temporary bodyguards' since the Commodore provided large cannons and a wide fleet of battleships for the Tsuru as escorts. There were several other captains, but Alto didn't have the time to know them better since time was short.

"Attention!" All the captains and Commodores stood up straight as Shadow Vice Admiral Moe Haggins walked through the door, the atmosphere tense and deathly silent. He was a Long Arm-type of person, 4'9" with muscular arms going down to the floor and short stumpy legs. With a 4 'o clock shadow on his smug botox-fixed face and spiky-gelled hair, he was known as the "Grand Undertaker" due to his specialized assassination DF. That, and the large 6 foot shovel on his back that had taken the lives of hundreds of pirates.

Standing next to or 'over him' was his on again, off again girlfriend Victoria Hunt, the 'Black Sorceress' who was enjoying a light smoke using a black narrow pipe attached to a cigarette. Wearing a skimpy frill dress for her lower half (hips and legs) and a Vice Admiral uniform with a strong corsetto show off her 'assets', she threw up a few pints of blood into her hand and rubbed it on her cherry pink beehive hairdo to improve the coloring. Black, heavy ribbons were wrapped around her arms and her leg stockings, said to be her limiters to prevent her from going all-out in public. She grinned at some of the captains, increasing their heart rate as they could smell the aurora of delicious tempting perfume coming off her.

"I call this conjoined meeting to order." Moe said strongly, smacking the table with the shovel to silence the murmuring and quiet conversations the captains had. "As a member of the Shadow Cabinet of the World Government, I welcome you all to this assembly. Many of you are not only here because of rank, but because of your individual talents, regardless of loyalty. At this time, Blackbeard has accomplished what we feared, a attack from Whitebeard."

"Now, I know most of you are young and haven't been around enough to see his power, but I assure you that he is as powerful as they come. Now that Red-Hair Shanks is currently acting with him, the need to stop him in the New World is essential. As such, the three Admirals and the Seven Warlords will be taking a separate Flagship into battle. Our group on the other hand is to delay or capture the Commanders of Whitebeard's Armada."

Pulling down a chart along the side of the wall, with a large bar graph and number of ships he continued. "As you can see, the number of pirates and marines are almost equal. Almost. Although most of his crew are odd, they can be taken out with a high degree of haki but at the same time, the same goes for most of our men and many captains. Likewise, his Commanders may be prepared for a sea battle which they may have a upper hand in experience. Most likely we will have causalities on both sides."

Turning to face Alto, he grinned a little in recognition. "Ah yes, and I couldn't forget about the legendary Alto who had survived death countless times. Unlike the others, you get a special mission that requires your talents."

"Huh?" Alto's eyes widened, taken back by this news. He wasn't informed of any such task when he got the invite fifteen days ago.

"Hold on there! Any task that he can do, the Seven Fangs can do a hundred times better!" Fonzo roared, standing up awhile bashing a deep imprint of his arms into the thick wood like it was made of toilet paper. "This guy is incompetent! He only goes after the small fish instead of doing his job!"

"Calm down, Fonzo. I'm sure that I'm not the only one assigned to this if it takes priority over Whitebeard." Alto chuckled nervously, sweating a bit under the intense killing aura his rival was giving off, as the other six also stood up in a fit of fury. "Vice-Admiral, please!"

"What? You're a adult, you handle it." Moe said, not even slightly concerned to take part in such a small matter.

'Easy for you to say.' Alto thought, watching helplessly as the seven warriors of destruction jumped at him, readying their respective techniques.

For example, Mick was loading up his specialized Super Magnum 600s with bullets with a seastone tip, capable of blowing half of a human's body apart. Rebecca conjoined her stave staff to launch a full-out barrage of stabs which would make a regular man's bones shatter like glass. Nick became a whirling tornado of flesh and blood, his hands able to shatter boulders due to the high spin. Francis came up from behind to deliver a mind-numbing brass knuckle punch which would follow with a merciless arm twist. Troy, despite his size, jumped ten feet in the air above his head to crush him into the floor and cover him with his nasty mossy behind. Troy only performed a simple snap-kick, but in the process spewed a giant plume of fire straight at him, and Fonzo finished it off with a hundred razor darts instead of jumping right in.

"This could get tricky...." Alto said under his breath, extracting the strings outwards and curve his hands. A Spin-Shredder would work against the darts, but he was still under strict orders not to kill other people, even if they wanted to kill him. "6 Finger-"

FWOOOOOMM!!!! Before he could start the defensive barrier, a strong wind broke out in the center of the room, sending everything and everyone not bolted down (save for Nelson who was basically chained to the bed for his own protection) flying weightlessly around it. That included the darts that ended up stinging Pudding Pudding's and Makko's rear ends, causing them to yelp out in surprise and extreme pain.

Likewise, the other attacks never came close to getting close to Alto, but ended up half-killing several of the unknown captains or dealing heavy damage to the walls and ceiling, bursting holes through layers of reinforced steel and concrete. Those who ended up hitting the holes became stuck on the other side, or shot out of the room into the ocean sea.

Alto, on the other hand, was holding back tears of torture hanging on for dear life on his One Finger Zip-Line. Why? Some of the Commodores and Captains noticed that he wasn't being pulled with the currents but 'hovering' in one place with a hand out in front, so they ended up grabbing him by the legs. Which was why his poor, delicate finger was feeling like it was going to pop off at any time. That, and his pants were pulled down, exposing his giraffe underwear.

He blushed, feeling embarrassed a bit from this sudden exposure. Some of the men were already snapping pictures and laughing at him despite the fact the wind speed was slowing down. As soon as he felt that he was no less than 2 inches to the floor, he curved out three wires to slash the cameras and film into a pile of useless junk.

Then, gravity kicked in as the tornado-like winds faded away. The captains and commodores who fell only took minor to medium bruises and cuts, others were out cold smashing into the table or the chairs that were flung about. Alto took the time of confusion to pull his pants back up and locked the belt, hoping no one else would mock him.

Of course, no one even noticed him. They were too busy looking at the blue sphere of wind swirling around and around in place, possibly the cause of the sudden gale. Marines prepared their pistols and swords, ready to counter-attack if it would strike again.

"Hold your fire, all of you!" Moe shouted, barely even fazed by the wind as only his clothes were a bit tattered. "This is the one who had organized and respectfully paid for the war campaign! You will do him the same respect in not fighting in his presence and sit down."

"Heh, same old Moe." A carefree, sly tone of voice came from the ball as it opened up to dissipate into thin air. Those who looked on gasped in astonishment or awe at the sight before them, for the amount of ebil the person had was enormous to say the least.

"Greetings, Shadow Cabinet Admiral Tango. I hope the bed was to your liking." Melanie said, bowing down courteously to the 3 foot tall cat who was licking his left paw. Adjourned in make-shifted tailored Admiral clothing (shirt and jacket), the green-furred Oncilla (Tiger Cat) with brown stripes grinned ear-to-ear savoring his mayhem over the humans. He wore thick rubber galoshes for his hind legs and a belt to hold his sheath and small kodachi katana on his right side.

"So that's who my commander is." Alto said in disbelief, watching the furball walk on his hind feet like it was normal for cats to be up straight their whole lives. "The Oni Slayer of the North Blue, Shadow Admiral Tango."

"It was okay, I suppose." Tango shrugged, or attempted to despite having no shoulders. "You know that you didn't have to fluff the pillows that much. But the Water Bed was great to relieve some of the stress I've been having, ever since I was 'de-clawed' by that shrewd woman in the Shadow Cabinet. The Ratburgers were also a nice touch, you caught them?"

Many captains went pale thinking of the gorgeous Victoria catching mice with her manicured, smooth hands or fainted dead away at the thought in their seats. Melanie chuckled at the small joke though, amused at the cat's brazen wit.

"Anyway, Shadow Admiral Tango, now that you're here, we can finally get to the main course of the meeting." Moe said calmly, trying not to think of the rancid Ratburgers that the cat chewed on. A Movie Projector, probably a few decades old, was brought in by two A.V. Club Seamen close to the outer rim of the table's center. The lights turned off one by one, shrouding the War Room in absolute darkness.

Turning on the switch, a 2-Dimensional image formed on the front wall which appeared to be a bounty poster of Whitebeard. Alto gave a slight whistle in admiration of how high those figures went up, for it was higher than Black Crow. Everyone else glared at him for a second before giving their full attention to Moe.

"As we know, Whitebeard is powerful, but we believe that even now, he is tracking a peculiar pirate ship. After Vice-Admiral Garp had returned from Water 7, we have confirmed it to be called the "Ocean Dreamer", which holds the Axe-Head crew." The slide shifted to the Axe-Head pirates. "As well as the ship belonging to the StrawHat pirates." The slide shifted to Luffy, Zoro, Sanji and the other member's posters. "Sadly, due to Attachan's mistake, we have not been able to catch Black-Leg Sanji despite numerous attempts on a small island as he was last seen fleeing with mermen on Flying Fish."

"And as I told you before regarding your countless letters that I refused to address, I ain't interested in offing Axe or any of his nakama." Alto said under his breath, knowing full well of what kind of battle he would expect if Axe didn't have full control over his powers. Moe didn't seem to hear it though, and if he did, he ignored it since Alto was thinking small.

"Furthermore, new pirate crews have been spawning like rabbits all over the GrandLine and beyond. One of them is a Pirate Company that legally breaks former pirates out of our Government-type facility prison zones, another is a traitorous marine that has declared war on the World Government. This behavior cannot be overlooked." The slide shifted to dozens and dozens of new wanted posters which spread the camera angle widely.

He turned his focus squarely on Alto again, taking out a small seastone box the size of a Size 12 shoe and a pair of metal tongs. "And that's where you come in, Captain Alto. After your runabout with the Clinic, our forensic scientists had located this letter that once was in the hands of the one called "Bookworm"." He pulled out a white letter with the tongs and tossed it into Alto's capable hands, which he caught quickly.

"Two months from now, a event that happens once every ten years will take place. You were probably three or four at the time so you couldn't remember, but it was basically a bloodbath massacre for the Navy twenty years ago. To the people who run it, it's referred as a 'Convention', a social gathering similar to the Council of Kings. Which couldn't be farther than the truth."

"For it appears to a special three-day session for veteran pirates, which turns out to be a lot. And in this convention is a special activity known as a Scavenger Hunt, which as you know requires following a list to find certain items in a specific place. To summarize it simply, whoever wins can send every last pirate in that convention on a mission of destruction for a day. The last time, ten years ago, the Shabondy Islands were nearly ransacked by the tens of thousands of crazy pirates who vandalized the shores and took everything not bolted down. Even the Admirals had trouble driving them out."

"And what does this have to do with me?" Alto inquired, curious to where this was going.

"Simple, Alto. Before you managed to destroy the Clinic, we at Marine Headquarters had no idea that the attack on our shores was part of a 'Game' twenty years ago. Or the conquering of a small peninsula forty years ago. As it is, we have no way of getting together a counter-force in time, but we do have a few people on the inside. We believe a strong group of Pirate Captains who have aligned themselves with a long-forgotten prophesy will be attending this event, all of them in the 195 to 299 million bounty ranking."

"This group, believing themselves soon to be rulers, have acquired a large armada of 5,000 followers to attend the convention. Although that number is only a drip in the bucket of the massive gathering, it is said the individual pirate members are New World strong. We may not know what their plan is, but is seems to be far more different than the last 5 Conventions this century."

"In other words..." Tango said coolly, walking towards Alto with a slight leer. "We want you to infiltrate and sabotage the 'game'."

10 minutes later....

The War Room was deathly still as Alto had walked out the door with a hung, sorrowful head on his shoulders. Even the Seven Fangs, who objected to this at first, felt a bit of pity for their comrade. Moe was infamous for making people do what he wanted, even if it meant losing their freedom.

"Now that that part is over with," Victoria said cheerfully to brighten up the mood. "There is another job that we must attend to besides Whitebeard. Namely, the Second Coming."

"I've heard about it in History Books on my island, is it true?" Saga asked her, recalling the many, many books he studied on the island before he came in contact with the Seven Star Sword.

"That was the First Coming. The Second Coming was when revenge was sworn on the world. Big difference." Tango purred, curling up and lying down on the table.

"But how do you know if it's true? I haven't seen any signs of it." Rapanui said plainly, tossing a nickel up and down in his left hand. He and his subordinates had been doing research on supernatural activities for a few decades for some odd reason, which didn't surprise any of the captains.

"Just because you have not seen the signs doesn't mean he isn't around. After the Coral Island incident, we had lost contact with three different islands close by to the Red Line. Over 40 ships, both civilian merchant and Navy Warships, have either sunk or turned their cannons on one another for no reason. One of our main Prison Zones was compromised three days ago, and inspection teams had found that over 670 people had butchered each other in the most barbaric of fashions, including the Marine Personnel whom we believe took head shots of all attempting to flee. This behavior is not acceptable." Moe said strongly, bashing two more large dents into the table. "We had managed to capture one of the captains, but his mental state was so damaged that he ended up destroying the ship and all the inhabitants with only his fingernail-less hands."

"All around the world, the effects are first budding into those who already have deep anger issues instead of the innocent bystanders you pass on the street. Thus, more sudden suicides, creation of slasher-type fighters and deeply troubled psychopaths appear on the individual islands. This person, whom we fear, plans to reclaim the New World and this time, the rest of the world with his influence alone. Which is why we had assembled the greatest minds in the Navy to help cut down on the amassing hordes before they overrun the villages and islands we have influence in."

"Purrrrhaps..." Tango interrupted, "But you forgot the most important thing, the power this person has. Although it's not a usual run-of-the-mill Devil Fruit, it has ended up damaging private property. Houses imploded in the middle, sign posts twisted into pretzel-like shapes, roads folded upwards like a rug, brick streets as brittle as glass, and even the animals looked mutated into sleeker, more sinister forms. To me reading the files and pictures of the islands he conquered, it was like a tampered picture of chaos itself. Some of our investigators who went up stairs ended up trapped in a labyrinth of stairways for hours on end, or fell down pits that had ended up sending them halfway across the island."

"Worse yet, it was said this person's power does not require him to actually harm another person. Instead, those he defeats instantly 'join' him for some reason, and it is said four specialized bodyguards were with him at the end of the First Coming. We do not know the extent of his power or where those bodyguards are, but he had wiped out nearly all our warships including those involved in Buster Call warfare with his bodyguards and his ship known only as the ARK during the First Coming."

"So why not allow Alto to deal with him like his ancestor did?" Fonzo smirked, also familiar with the old story, but only about how it ended. Getting rid of his rival would leave the spot open for the Seven Fangs to move in for fame and glory.

Tango looked at him with cold, unfeeling eyes before answering, knowing this human was undeserving of being a Navy Captain. "At this time, he is untrained for this task. Despite his accomplishments in the past, this growing threat has taken into hiding to conserve and gather energy like he did in the First Coming. The people he has 'assimilated' have become his eyes, mouth and ears, basically average civilians now extremely dangerous with their talents and techniques amplified a hundred fold. Alto wouldn't stand a chance given his oath of non-killing."

"This is why he is charged with such a hazardous mission which make take his life in the process. I may condone killing of prisoners not on Death Row, but the one that we face is an enigma of true terror. I have faith in his abilities as a captain and I do not wish for him to suffer a similar fate. He and the others will have to work together if they wish to survive, isn't that right, my friend?" Tango grinned, looking at the new person who seemed to 'emerge' from the floor, causing some of the Marine Captains to back away out of fright or panic.

"Yes, of course, Shadow Admiral Tango. I will not fail you in tracking and obliterating that man, even if it means destroying a few islands for the sake of destroying my old records." The Revolutionary Hunter, Mezzo, said chillingly, bowing down in respect for his Master.

-----------------------

Meanwhile.....

"P-pi-pir-PIRATES! Have you lost your freaking mind! We catch them not impersonate them!" Prelude shouted angrily, stomping on Alto's bloodied skull for the fifteen time as she kicked him in the ribs. They were on the front deck of the Tsuru; Alto, Requiem, Gladyr, Crescendo, Prelude and Bolero, the rest of the marines were at the Huge Party that Prelude's mother was throwing. "I came up here because you had something important to tell us, but you want me to be a pirate for three days on some stupid event? How stupid do you think I am?"

"Very stupid." Gladyr, Bolero and Crescendo slapped the air, mocking her.

"Stay out of this, you jerks!" Prelude barked, kicking Alto in the ribs out of frustration. He groaned, knowing that he might need a bone transplant later on. "Captain, you should just say no to those people. There's no way in heck we can pull this off without exposing ourselves. Bolero alone could set off alarms with a 50 mile radius, sorry Bolero, but it's true."

"EHHH, IT'S OKAY." Bolero nodded, blowing small bubbles upwards to make a few mini-firework explosions.

"Besides, we'll be outnumbered. Over 90,000 pirates will be attending this thing. Even I know better than to chose a job that is a death sentence." She poked him on the cheek a few times, wondering if he had fainted. "There is no way, no chance, no slim possibility that I'll ever-"

"80 percent!" Alto choked out, despite the fact that his windpipe was nearly crushed by Prelude's Heaven's Light thrust kick. "80 percent of the bounty we reel in will be yours!"

That earned him a steel boot to the head, nearly knocking off his glasses. "You're not listening...." She said in a murderous, yet gleeful tone of voice. "We of the Hina clan don't care about money the same way you do. Instead, we trade items for items, as it had been that way for centuries."

Gladyr shook his head in dismay, annoyed at how the captain was being treated like a rag doll. "I swear, she mutinies against him almost every day because he lets her beat him up."

"......idiot pervert...." Requiem nodded in agreement, sipping her sugar-high coffee. For some reason, she didn't even feel awake or even alive at the moment.

"HA HA HA! PRELUDE'S DOING THE BEATDOWN!" Bolero laughed, knowing that if the captain willed it, he would poison her a dozen times over.

"How about a new gun then? You've always been oogling the gun shops inside the Supercarrier but they're currently out of your monthly salary range." Alto tried to bargain with her, only to wince as she kicked him where it hurts the most, curling in half-conciously.

"Buying my allegiance with guns? Have you no shame? The fact of the matter is that I will never be a pirate, even if it's pretend acting. Absolutely not!" Prelude hissed, barely listening to the peanut gallery.

"But it's only three days. You don't even need a bounty if anything to get in." Alto waved his arms, which Prelude noticed something very odd that made her stop thrashing him.

"What is that?" She asked, standing up with a scowl on her face.

"What is what?" Alto said, befuddled that she had stopped her relentless attack that would have caused musclebuilders to bawl out in tears.

"You have some weird smudge on your hand that wasn't here before. Is that why you're insisting so much?" She narrowed her eyes, stomping down on the right hand that would have chopped her into tiny chunks of human flesh. It was a small ebon circle the size of a cashew, but it had small black veins along the sides of it connected to his blood arteries.

Rolling on his right, he gave a faint smile of admiration to his lieutenant before answering, "Kinda. Apparently when I read the letter, it just 'attached' itself to me. According to Shadow Admiral Tango (who's overseeing the operation), it was on the hands of the ones known as Jester and Bookworm. A week after they were tossed into a Navy Prison, the black spot took their lives somehow by turning them into fertilizer as black moss sprouted out of the eyes, mouth and other open areas and spewed all over their rooms in large clumps. They're still trying to find their bodies even now."

"And if you don't attend, then you'll end up with the same fate as those two. Is that it?" Prelude glared, not really believing her captain had acquired such a sinister disease.

"Right." Alto shook his head, disturbed by the fact that no one else in the war room would take such a hazardous mission. "I should have had been more cautious, but the atmosphere of the room made me drop my guard. According to the fine print magnified on the bottom of the invitation letter, provided I'm not captured and imprisoned, once I am at the convention with a crew, the mark will leave my body."

"Yet you're forgetting something important." Prelude pointed out again, somewhat mocking him. "Once you use those strings of yours, no matter what disguise you have on, you'll be exposed in an instant. Requiem's too dull of a living doll to be among roughneck pirates, Gladyr has the tendency to pester young folk, Bolero's screaming could drive everyone mad and don't even get me started about Crescendo when we were at the King of Osfrord Island's ball!"

"......" Requiem just looked ahead, barely registering the comment made at her and sipped some more tea.

"Hmmph....I can keep my mouth shut once in a while." Gladyr snorted, crossing his arms in contempt.

"I CAN'T HELP IT, YA KNOW! IF I DON'T TALK, I'M FREAKING BLIND!" Bolero shouted, causing the planks and metal pipes to rattle and moan from the strong vibrations.

"Mmmmmm, I can recall how tasty those elephant-sized wolves were..." Crescendo smacked her lips at the memory, her bottomless stomach growling since she put in such a good fight beating up all those beginners.

"Regardless, you guys, what chance do we have to impersonate actual pirates? We believe in justice, not some stupid make-believe Code of the Sea that those scoundrels take heart in. Our faces aren't known, but Alto's ability as a captain would drive the plan into the ground. Besides, last I checked, you promised we would find Nocturne. This will not help the search one bit. " Prelude silenced them with a stern look, allowing Alto time to get back to his feet and rub his sore neck and sides.

"So? I'll improvise if anything. Besides, there's always the chance that we can obtain information on Nocturne's whereabouts." Alto said smoothfully, quickly disarming a nearby Marine Seamen of his saber using a frontal roll flip. He held the gold encrusted blade to face her head-on, slashing like a amateur at the air. "I'm not Nocturne, but I did train in sword combat before I became a cap-" POW! A flare blasted him straight in the gut, knocking the wind out of him as he was flung far off down into a staircase.

Spinning her flare gun and blowing out the smoke, Prelude reholstered it into her gunbelt. "Idiot. He should never compare himself to my fiancée without consequence."

"HARSH." Bolero blinked, stupefied that she could swat the captain away like he was nothing. he could also tell by his sonar radar that Alto was dropping down the stairs floor by floor, covering his face and curling into a fetal position to absorb the impact.

"It's his own fault, and I expect the rest of you to ignore it for now. If he wants to go so badly, he should ask some other crew to handle it." Prelude turned around to walk down the stairway off the front deck.

".....larger shadow...." Requiem said plainly, noting the fact that Prelude's shadow on top of her was expanding larger and wider by the second, despite the fact nothing could be seen above her at the moment.

"What now?" Prelude grunted, shifting her head halfway to look at Requiem's dead eyes, then looked down to see that her shadow was indeed widening out. Her own eyes widened in shock, as she leapt quickly out of the large shadow's range as it came down even faster and faster like a falling star. Gladyr ended up 'catching' her with her butt striking his face, his mint glasses shattered from the powerful impact and his nose was once again broken as a result.

It was like a hammer hitting a nail, and the front of the supercarrier was the wood, as something huge smacked down on it with enough force to slightly 'tip' the back of it by 10 feet in the air before balancing out, causing panic within the barracks and washrooms as well as damaged the main turbines that worked the propeller.

Requiem stared long and hard despite the cloud of thick steam that seemed to prevent the others from seeing clearing without tears in their eyes, looking up and up at the monstrosity that had entered their presence. It was definitely not organic since the heartbeat was far too small for it's large size and there was more electrical signals and impulses centered around it to make the body move properly.

To put it simply, the body frame was a giant 30 foot weasel with white fur and a black tip at the tail. It was clearly mechanical once the steam stopped pouring out of the long metallic tail, the vent cooling system finishing off the routine of preventing the rubberbands from melting. Two long tungsten steel fans with oriental paintings were in it's claws, and parts of the metal white body looked half-done given the missing screws and panels.

Slowly, it began to rise upwards on it's bulky robotic feet, turning the kneecaps to move itself to the right to face the flaggergasted crew of marines. Bolero hung his jaw all the way down ( in which it stretched for about 2 feet or so), Crescendo had already brought out her steak knife and fork with a starved look on her face, Gladyr was looking in pure disbelief and horror rubbing his bloody nose, and Prelude, although dazed, was loading up her flare guns.

The weasel-like creature seemed to smiling at the group, as blue steam seemed to flow out of it's backside. Gears collided, pulleys went up and down, rubberbands stretched, paperclips held on tight, dozens and dozens of hidden mechanisms switching on and off. Some of the completed and uncompleted metal rectangled panels opened up along the arms and legs, revealing a armament of specialized sidewinder missiles, awhile 6 circular panels opened on the shoulders to reveal unique box-machine guns with 20 barrels.

To summarize it the best way for those confused, it was a newly off-the-production line mech that ran on steam power and had enough firepower to blow apart a few Navy Battleships. Unfortunately for it, the four Marines before it had lots of experience handling large opponents.

"Since the boss is away, the rest of us can play." Prelude said sinisterly, a cruel look forming in her eyes. "Requiem, take out the autoguns when you get close enough. Gladyr, sorry about your nose, but we need ya to bind those hands so he can't use those fans as melee weapons. Crescendo, if you knock it down, I'll give you extra ration of those watermelon-sized donuts that they hold at the board meetings. Bolero, you focus on the heavy artilliery, don't let one of those missiles sink the ship. And I'll see if I can pull the one operating it out. The metal doesn't seem too strong, so a few punches should do it in."

"Aye, Aye!" Crescendo said, drawing back her right arm as it began to grow fur and grow in size several times over. She planned on trashing the mecha if it came down to it, shame Hoppi was getting a suntan with the other Zoan weapons on the other side of the ship.

"LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!" Bolero laughed, knowing that he couldn't put a dent in that tin can if he tried, sucking in the moisture in the air until his chest expanded outward, converting water into explosive saliva.

".......whatever....." Without a care, Requiem formed her bow and began to form several arrows, her steely eyes cold and silent to get accurate marks on each gun barrel.

"Why me?" Gladyr sighed, digging into his briefcase for a few rolls of cast bandages.

"GOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Prelude yelled, suddenly rushing in with revolvers ablazing, the flares ricohetting off as she moved in for the epic kill.

Meanwhile....30 floors below deck....

"Help? Please? I fell down hard and I can't get up." Alto moaned, barely hanging on to the railing for dear life with one foot as seamen and captains alike passed by without even noticing his presence.


Amelia Hikari- Prelude's mother and the former holder of the title as she resigned it, former head of Marine Secret Investigations designed to track down thieves and solve puzzles left by them. She taught her daughter all about riddles and the different kinds of puzzles, training her in the Hina Arts when she was little as well as gun welfare. Highly intelligent, she weilds the wide-area obliterating Light Ball Cannon to crush her enemies.

Amberfish- A adult-sized brown trout-like fish with red stripes and several fins, said to be quite deadly to normal fishermen since it can carve boats apart with one strike.

Prison Zone- A stationary island for the sole purpose of keeping low level pirates and vile crooks under heavy guard until their sentence is up.

Victoria Hunt-A beautiful Vice Admiral woman with uncanny wit and specializes in rapid-slight of hand karate, she holds command over 40 Battleships.

Moe Haggins- A powerful Vice Admiral Long-Arm man with a reputation for winning. To lose is unacceptable, thus he sets the rules that must be obeyed at all times or the person will suffer a terrible death at his hands. Also uses a shovel in combination with his special DF(classified)..

Shadow Cabinet-A Oppositing Front of Senior Marines who act behind the WG's back to conduct experiments and illegal acts, also had been genetically altered or given a powerful devil fruit so their tongues would be silenced.

Shadow Vice/Admiral-A Minister of the Shadow Cabinet, they oversee Buster Calls and other activities, using the black market and other cheap tactics to fund the WG's treasury and are very powerful both in physical strength and material wealth.

Tango- A experimental genius animal with a high IQ and a specialized translator module in his throat to speak like a real human, he has been trained to act and think on his feet like a human would. Ironically, he was a great swimmer before he was fed the Swirly Swirly fruit, a power that causes him to swirl the air or objects around him to project a expanding barrier or toss heavy projectiles. Very good with his hand-gripped modified kodachi.

Zoan weapons -Because of a lack of normal DF users on board (many of the marines are selected on physical stength, agility or talents), the WG had authorized special weapons that 'ate' Zoan-class devil fruits to aid some of the stronger marines in case of a emergency. Of course, when unweilded, the weapons fully morph to animal form and do their own thing since they have free will.