Chapter 16 – Fateful Coincidence

"If I remember correctly," Drogon drawled. "That lady with the weird hair said that this place was mined."

"The ground is full of mines, I think she was trying to say," Volta replied. "If it were mined then there'd be big bloody caverns everywhere."

"I caught on to her meaning," Zoro said. "I can't see any."

"They likely had the townspeople make them," Slasher said. "With their skills, hiding them wouldn't be an issue."

All three of them were looking up the mountain, toward the jagged Trump Castle at its peak. They had left the city behind, along with the worries and fears of its citizens. The windmills that dotted the upper slope all had the same twisted design, cylinders topped with pink swirling roofs, yellow blades turning in the breeze. It was a bit boring compared to the vibrant colors below, but Volta had noticed the largest buildings in the city also had pink roofs. Perhaps it was a lucky color on this island, or the color of progress.

"How exactly are we gonna get past the mines?" Drogon asked.

Volta noted the ropes connecting the windmills. "If I get my blood pumping, I could make tendrils of ink that carry myself across those lines. But I couldn't carry the rest of you."

"There's gotta be a deactivation switch of some sort," Akisu considered. "I mean, the Siblings gotta get down somehow."

Borodo snapped his fingers. "I've got an idea!" He ran back the way they had come, only to stumble and fall. Zoro jumped to his side and caught him.

"Careful, you still haven't fully recovered."

"I won't recover if you keep me down!" Borodo cried, jumping back to his feet and hobbling toward one of the outlying houses. He knocked on the door, and as soon as it opened he thrust a wad of berries at the owner. He pointed to the side of the house, at a pile of large baskets. One aggressive negotiation later, Zoro carried a basket back. Borodo got out his parachute, undoing the handles and retying its rings on the basket's lip.

Slasher grinned. "The parachute saves us again!"

"Of course it does!" Borodo exclaimed. "Never underestimate the air power of the now-defunct True Doors Company!"

"But will it be strong enough to hold us all?" Drogon questioned. "Seems a bit on the thin side."

Before anyone could object, the martial artist stomped the basket's lip, flipping it over. He launched a devastating downward kick, hitting it so hard it reverberated into the ground. The basket shook but did not break, or even crack.

"You could have destroyed it!" Borodo screamed.

Drogon shrugged. "Better that then it breaking under us as we fly."

Slasher nodded. "Good call. But there's another problem. Will we have enough wind?"

"We will soon." Volta pointed to the sky, where the clouds were moving more rapidly than before. "We might have more wind then we can handle. Everyone in the basket!"

Not a moment too soon, as the parachute went taunt against the air, pulling the whole thing up and over the mountain. The landscape shifted rapidly, but Borodo's foresight saved them from flying off-course, an extra strap on the parachute allowing him to direct it without issue. Well, almost without issue. The wind blew up, but much faster than Volta had anticipated. They all rolled back, poor Akisu almost going over the edge before Zoro grabbed him back.

"Can you slow this thing down?!" Slasher shouted.

Borodo pulled with all his might. "Er, not really!"

Volta felt his heart hammering in his chest, and his tattoos erupted. They traced up the ropes and pressed down on the parachute, adding enough weight to slow the ascent. The basket began to lower, and as the wind died down he withdrew his ink.

"Thanks for the save," Borodo shivered. "For a second I thought we were gonna overshoot the castle. Then you guys couldn't beat up those Trumps!"

Zoro frowned. "You've been very insistent that we take these guys down. Ever since we met in fact."

Borodo nodded. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be? It's essential that we free this island from the Bear King's control!"

Slasher nodded. "Yes, that's right. Very essential."

The former key deliverer returned to his ropes, pulling them more frantically as they rose toward the peak.

"You know," Slasher continued. "These windmills look an awful lot like this toy I've got." He took out the little windmill wind-up, the one they'd found on the beach.

"You still have that?" Zoro asked.

"Why not? It's a good stress reliever, or at least it was until it broke."

Akisu turned his head. "Broke? I can fix it for you." Without asking, he swiped it out of Slasher's hand, several screwdrivers suddenly within his own.

He unscrewed the top, revealing the basic machinery within, and with a few twists of his tools undid much of that as well. Each screwdriver was unique, their tips made for different heads, and Akisu used them all throughout the toy, wiggling them around the gears and knocking them against the base as if trying to perceive the problem through sound alone. He put one away and set to work with the other two, one in each hand. He was ambidextrous, Volta realized, and more than capable of putting the growing number of pieces back in the exact order he had taken them apart. It was amazing, like watching Zoro clean his blades, a mesmerizing process that had no wasted motions. Almost a sort of swordplay in itself.

With a few final twists, Akisu screwed the top back on, and this time a turning of the knob made the blades spin around, but even faster than before.

Borodo laughed. "Like I said, Akisu is something else when it comes to machines!"

Slasher smiled. "Thanks for your help kid."

He blushed. "Ah, it's nothing. Just a toy."

"But it means something to me. Don't sell yourself short on credit if you've lent someone a hand. The world would be on a good path if there were more kids like you out there."

Akisu beamed. "Thanks mister!"

"Alright everyone!" Borodo shouted over the wind. "We're almost there!"

Volta had a better view of the castle now, and it was just as bizarre up close as it had been down below. Several small buildings surrounded it, hundreds of pirates training on the grounds.

Zoro gaped. "How many soldiers does this bastard have?"

"Between this and all the ships," Drogon growled. "No wonder he thinks he can become King of the Pirates. It's an army to be sure."

"I saw a lot of young men on the streets," Volta noted. "So it's not like he's snapping up the city's population for his forces. Probably because he needs them as workers for his machines, along with everyone else on this island."

Zoro nodded. "Fishy."

Shouts began to go up from below, as soldiers spotted their makeshift balloon. Shots rang out.

Volta took out his sword. "Get ready folks, we're coming in hot!"

"Do we have a plan?!" Drogon cried above the gunfire.

"Beat the Trumps, save our team, contact the Marines." Slasher unsheathed his blade, twirling it in a menacing arc. "And above all else? Survive."

==============={%}

TEN MINUTES AGO

.~===)===============

The music swelled, the attendees stood, and the wedding ceremony began.

Well, they tried to stand anyway. Most of the castle's army had been worked to the bone, worn down by three straight hours of preparation. The results were impressive; balloons, streamers, flowers, a first-rate buffet, and a stunning wedding dress that Buki was keen on keeping. Just in case Mr. Right appeared on her radar within the next few years. A large bell hung from the ceiling near Kibatto's age, and it rang twice as the organ music resounded.

Skunk One, only two years her senior, walked her down the aisle. He certainly lookedold enough to play the father role. Buki shuddered to think of what his father had looked like.

Down the carpet they came, toward the dais and her 'future husband.' He stood as straight as a rod, cheeks flushed, almost on the verge of hyperventilating. Honey Queen and Boo Jack stood off to the side, maid of honor and best man respectively. The fat pig-wearer hadn't even tried to fit himself into a tuxedo, only wearing a bow tie over his stained wife-beater and fluffy coat.

The priest was…also Skunk One. He led her up the dais, then dropped her hand like a hot potato and tore off his aviator cap. He pulled a miter and a Bible out of his pack and took his place at the center of the stage.

"Heeriye, heeriye, all ye gathered scum!"

Oh, fuck me.

"We stand today before a coming union, that which is most sacred and precious in all the world! The union between our dear captain, and his bride to be, Boomy!"

Thunderous applause.

"But we are not just celebrating the merging of pirate and captivvvating individual! We are also here to rejoice in the completion of the King Cannon!"

Buki froze, eyes wide in horror. "I thought it wasn't ready," she whispered.

The Bear King giggled. "It wasn't, but I thought it would be a nice touch to have it finished for the ceremony! It'll shoot confetti as we kiss!"

"You said you'd let all the scientists go free for the day," Buki growled.

The King giggled again, and a menacing gleam entering his eye. "Only some of them. Never take a pirate at his word, dear."

As he spoke, a deep rumbling shook the castle. The stone wall facing the dais slid into the floor, revealing a large terrace that overlooked the entire island. From the center of it rose a metal box, its front open to reveal a cloth-shrouded object. Several accompanying pirates did a little dance before rolling the monstrosity in, the box sliding back into the floor. With a flourish, the cloth was swept away.

Buki paled. It wasn't just a cannon, but a full-blown tank, the sort she'd only seen in comic books. It had a dull-gray color, offset by a colorful gage bolted to the side. The arrow lay firmly in the light yellow on the left, so it was likely a measure of how hot the internal mechanisms were. The cannon itself was screw-shaped, barrel ridged and lip hexagonal, and card suit-shaped symbols covered the front. Worst of all were the shells loaded onto the back, held up by a steel rack. Each one was as wide as the Bear King himself, a dull bronze bullet capable of untold devastation.

"It's beautiful!" the King cooed. "With this, our legend can begin! Between my army, my cannon, and my family, the Throne of the Pirate King is as good as mine!" He laughed uproariously, and for the first time since meeting him, Buki felt fear.

All this power. All this strength. And no restraint or maturity to go along with it. How old was he again? Twenty-three, twenty-four? He felt so much younger, a teen with a brand-new fishing boat. A child with a new toy gun, and a new doll to play with.

His laughter ceased. "Resume the ceremony!"

Skunk nodded, continuing his hackneyed speech. "We are all gathered together to honor and commemorate this holy union! And with that being said, twice now I think, we can get the vows underway!"

"Hey, wait a minute!" Boo Jack spoke up. "You forgot to ask if anyone has any objections!"

The Bear King nodded. "That's very important."

"Oh yeah!" Skunk One chirped. "Any objections?"

Kibatto banged on his cage from the ceiling. "I object!"

BANG!

"Nevermind!"

Skunk One cleared his throat. "Bear King! Do you-"

"I DO!"

"Very well then. Boopy, do you take our beloved captain as your husband, through sickness and health, through fire and brimstone, through all our adventures to come, whatever those might be?"

Buki gulped, eyes locked onto the expectant monster before her. But before she could open her lips to say anything, faint gunfire sounded from behind. Everyone turned around, just in time to see what looked like a giant blanket get shot to pieces. And through those pieces flew a very large basket.

Right toward the glass.

Buki smiled. "Nope! I very much don't!"

"WHAAT?!"

CRASH!

The glass shattered, and five men and a child burst into the throne room, raining shards down into the buffet. Which was promptly smashed by the basket itself, food flying everywhere and splattering the nearby chefs.

One fell to the ground, tears in his eyes. "WHYYYYYYY!"

"BASTARDS!" the Bear King cried. "HOW DARE YOU CRASH MY WEDDING! KILL THEM ALL!"

The gathered pirates lurched to their feet, but they moved sluggishly, barely able to get their weapons out before the hunters were upon them. They went down hard, some crashing into the benches and splintering them with their fallen bodies. Blood flew through the air, splattering the glass floor.

Skunk screamed, and his pack roared to life, thick yellow clouds of smoke exploding out of the bottom. Buki coughed, eyes tearing. She felt light-headed, limbs growing slack.

"The wedding! How dare you ruin the wedding! I'll choke you all into unconsciousness with my gas!"

"Damnit Skunk!" Queen cried. "You'll choke all of us as well!"

The ugly little man took the hint, divebombing Slasher and grabbing him right off his feet.

"You seem like the weakest," he sniveled. "So I'll take you out first!"

Slasher smirked, before breaking out of the hold easily. Skunk scampered back, but not fast enough to avoid a fist to the teeth. They went flying everywhere.

"You're not very good at perceiving strength," Slasher stated, as the jetpack-wearing pirate smashed into the wall.

"Skunk!" Boo Jack cried. "You'll pay for that!" He switched into his ball form and rolled across the floor, shredding everything in his path. He only got halfway to Slasher before Drogon kicked him from the side, ricocheting him off the bell that hung from the ceiling.

"Don't think you can get close to the boss without answering ta me," the martial artist growled.

"DRAGON TWISTER!"

The gas in the room dissipated, as strong winds carried it and many mooks right through the glass walls of the throne room. The chaos had reached its peak, and in the midst of it was Volta, slashing and stabbing everyone in sight. His tattoos sprung out, slicing and slapping away the pirate scum surrounding him.

The Bear King turned dark red, but not from embarrassment. Veins stood out on his neck and forehead, and he gripped his gun so tightly he cracked the handle.

"DAMN YOU ALL!" he roared, arm raised. Buki saw her chance, jumping up and knocking the pistol right out of his hand and into her own. She twisted through the air.

BANG!

The King grimaced as the bullet pierced his foot. He backed into the musical pipes behind him, crushing them under his bulk along with the poor organ player attending them.

The ceremony lay in ruins. Buki couldn't help but wince at all the hard work going up in smoke around her. A sham it may have been, but the castle staff had gone all out. They must think of her as a monster.

"You monster!"

She yelped, barely avoiding a thrown kitchen knife. A dozen angry chefs bore down on her, armed to the teeth.

"You and your friends will die this day," the head chef intoned. "For the crime of WASTING OUR FOOD!"

They charged her, knives barred. But Zoro swooped in, blocking them all with far larger blades. "Forget the food. Focus on your lives." With a sweep of sparks, the knives went to pieces, tips falling to the ground.

Zoro held his swords high, eyes full of murder. "Get lost."

The cooks raced for the elevator.

"Thanks for the save," Buki said, sniping another pirate from afar before he could sneak up on Borodo. "What took you guys so long?"

"We got lunch."

"What?!"

"And you didn't bring me anything?" Kibatto cried. "I've been stuck in this cage for hours man!"

"I'm not even on your team, damnit!"

"That's my fault," Slasher spoke up, as he cleaved through the shields of three defending pirates. "I should have gotten a to-go box of something. I'll get you some fried rice and oysters later."

"Hold on," Volta interjected. "Fried rice and oysters?"

"It's a surprisingly good combination," Kibatto protested. "Don't judge me."

"Oh, I will. With extreme prejudice."

A burst of gas signaled Skunk One's return to the fight. He cackled through a shattered smile. "Fools, fools! My Devil Gas will paralyze you the moment you breathe it in!"

Buki didn't feel very paralyzed anymore, so she put a bullet in his jetpack. The side ruptured, and Skunk One was sent flying around the room, screeching as he smashed into pipes and furniture. The wedding cake, miraculously untouched by the buffet massacre, exploded into a shower of pink goo as the pirate crashed into it. He flailed wildly, the runaway jetpack pulling him right off the terrace and down to the castle grounds below.

BOOM!

A giant yellow cloud wafted over the sky, filling the castle grounds. Hundreds of pirates coughed, dropped, and found they could not get up again.

"No, our reinforcements!" Boo cried, attempting to get to his feet. Drogon didn't let him, punching him in the side and sending him flying onto the terrace.

He knocked into a weird cross structure perched on the terrace's edge, keeping him from falling eleven stories to the gas-filled courtyard below. "Bastard! You can't beat me! Not when I've got my Spike-Spike Armor!"

"A Devil Fruit ability?" Drogon questioned.

"I wish. It's a special armor developed by the good citizens of this island, using the Spike-Spike Fruit as the inspiration! Now fall before its might!" He resumed ball form, zooming at Drogon with frightening speed.

"TARGARYEN TATE!"

Drogon's fist went right through the ball's surface, sinking into Boo's pudgy face. He went flying back, smashing into the cross yet again and nearly uprooting it. He popped out of his ball, spitting teeth and a copious amount of blood.

"How?!" he squealed. "I was rolling so fast, how would you know where my face was?! How were you able to punch me in the first place?!"

"Your spikes are a liiiitle too spaced out," Drogon smirked. "If you're precise enough, you can punch the spaces in between just fine."

"Impossible! I roll so fast my spikes are a blur!"

Drogon shrugged. "Like I said, ya gotta be precise. And that's what I am, ya bastard."

Boo squealed again, rolling across the stonework even faster than before.

"Oh, and one more thing."

BAM!

In a single kick, the rotund pirate was halted, knocked right out of ball form. He was stunned, then horrified to discover his front spikes shattered.

"For a guy like me, who needs shoes that can hold up under his own kicks? Those fancy shmancy spikes may as well be candy canes."

"I surrender, I surrender!"

"Too late fatty! This is for capturing Buki! BALERION BASH!"

A flurry of blows, tenderizing the large ham.

"TESSARION TETTSUI!"

A horizontal fist, crunching his piggish nose.

"DREAMFYRE DROPKICK!"

A kick that snapped away many of his remaining spikes.

"AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, DROGON'S DOLLYEO CHAGI!"

The roundhouse kick smashed into Boo's stomach, sending him flying off the castle and into the front gate. It exploded in a shower of splinters and stone.

Drogon shook out his hands and legs. "Damn, hitting that bitch still hurt. Glad I dodged the spikes."

The greater battle inside had ended and dozens of pirates littered the ground, none conscious.

"I took out that Boo dude!" Drogon called out. "That's three down now!"

"Borodo is looking for a snail transponder downstairs," Volta replied. "With any luck, the Marines will be here to clean things up soon."

The Bear King was lurching to his feet, one still bleeding profusely. He didn't seem to care though, eyes glowing with hatred. And not in the metaphorical sense, they really were glowing. So were his upper arms, the tuffs of fur ringing them burned away.

"Take down my family, my crew, and me," he said, in a tone that was far too calm. "So that the Marines can storm this island without the threat of me bringing it down."

Volta narrowed his eyes. "So, they did know you were here. Your disappearing act was a big farce."

"When one has all the power, one doesn't need to hide oneself," Bear King sneered. "This island is mine! These people are mine! Power and control are how one becomes successful, and I've become one of the most successful pirates in the East!"

"Maybe so," Slasher conceded. "But if you use power wildly, without restraint or care, then you only inspire those you oppress to rise against you."

"Gahahaha! You don't get it, do you? The reason I've been able to rule this island for seven years is because I used restraint! Those damn scientists can complain all they want about the blood I'm spilling with the fruit of their efforts, but I don't disrupt their city, and I don't demand they work without rest! This island is just as prosperous as ever! I'm only using that prosperity for my own ends. And now that my cannon is complete, I'll make this place the centerpiece of my empire! It'll be richer than ever!"

"Your arguments don't mean anything to me," Volta intoned. He pointed his sword at the massive pirate. "So long as you oppress others, I will not rest until you have been defeated."

"Just try it!" Bear King snarled. He slammed his fists together repeatedly until they shone blood red, simmering with heat. "My Hard-Hard Fruit makes my body harder to damage, with the added benefit of generating heat! Your attacks won't affect me!"

Volta ran across the glass, meeting the monster head-on while Zoro and Slasher flanked him. Buki fired from the side, but the Bear simply caught the bullet with his teeth, crunching it and spitting out the shrapnel.

"Buki! Your betrayal sickens me! I thought I was everything you wanted in a man!"

"I don't even know you!" Buki screamed. "You can't force yourself upon everyone and everything you want!"

"Damn you!" the Bear roared, jumping back just before the three swordsmen could slash him. "If that's how you feel, then you can join your friends' fate! Behold!"

He jumped again, this time on top of his precious King Cannon. A detonator stuck out of its top, the sort used with TNT, and Volta's attempt to knock him down was batted away. He slammed his fist into the tank's side, swerving the cannon around to face Buki.

"DIE HEARTBREAKER!" He pumped the detonator.

"No!" Slasher cried.

BOOM!

A rainbow's worth of color burst out, showering the gunslinger.

She smirked. "Does it kill you with a thousand papercuts?"

The Bear roared. "Damnit, I forgot about the confetti!"

"You also forgot about me! DROGON'S DOLLYEO CHAGI!"

Drogon slammed his foot into the Bear King's side, knocking him off his cannon and nearly through one of the last bits of window still intact. It cracked under him, but amazingly held when so many smaller minions had been thrown right through it.

Drogon laughed. "Ahahaha, you bitch, you just broke my foot!" He fell over.

Volta winced in sympathy. His injury from Goa was starting to flare, the pain of his toes slowing his movements.

The Bear King righted himself and charged, fists shining brighter than ever. Everyone dodged, and a storm of attacks struck him.

"BULL NEEDLES!"

"RUBICON CROSS!"

"ZWEITE BLITZ, SCHRÄGSTRICH!"

The attacks tore through his tuxedo, but the King himself was unfazed. He didn't seem to feel them. And he responded with attacks of his own, slamming his fist into Drogon's chest and smacking Volta across the room. He was far faster than he had any right to be, and before Slasher could even think to dodge, the King headbutted him, the spade tattoo on his forehead glowing with the impact.

Zoro attempted Bull Needles again, but the King barreled right through it, smashing Zoro across the face and knocking Wado right out of his mouth, blood splattering the floor once more.

"Bastard!" Buki shouted, firing at the ceiling.

The King laughed. "Just what do you think you're aiming at?"

CONK!

The cage smashed right through the King's head, which Kibatto proceeded to kick repeatedly. "Take that, you big hunk of greasy fat!"

The King growled, grabbing the cage's sides and tearing it in half, Kibatto jumping away before he could be grabbed.

"BRUTUS BRUTALITY!"

A whirlwind of strikes from Slasher sent the big pirate careening across the room. A recovered Zoro was waiting for him.

"CRAB SEIZE!"

The guillotine move snapped the King's head back, spittle flying from his lips. His foot spurted blood and gave out beneath him, just as Zoro jumped into the air, swords flashing.

"TIGER TRAP!"

The King grunted, smashed against the glass. It was hard to see the massive turning key underneath all the debris, but Volta was suddenly wary of how screwed they would all be if the glass broke, and the chasm beneath filled with bodies and broken benches.

Thankfully, the floor held, not even scratched by the impact of the Bear's massive frame. He slowly rose, every last inch of him a bright steaming orange. His strikes hadn't landed long enough to leave lasting burns before, but Volta did not doubt they would now.

"To hell with all of you," he growled. "I'll burn and break your bodies, then hang them from my balcony for the buzzards and the vultures."

Slasher glanced at the remaining crosses. "I think that's a terrace, actually."

"GRAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Bear King!"

BOOOM!

A few more glass panels burst from the blast, and debris was tossed around by the displaced air alone. A dark blur shot across the room, faster than Volta could track. A red trail was left in its wake, some chemical he really didn't want to breathe in.

And then, the second sound. A crash of impact. The trail had gone over the side of the island, and while Volta couldn't see ground zero, he didn't need to. Everything trembled, the great key groaning, and for one hideous moment, Volta felt everything tilt.

.~===)==============={%}

Denny paled, an unlit cigarette falling from his fingers. The point of impact had become a tower, thousands of tons of water blown skyward. The shockwave hit a nearby patrol, throwing the ship into the air and shredding the masts.

I'm going to die.

The thought popped into his head, with the same casual acceptance as something like I need to use the restroom, or, my foot itches. Denny collapsed onto the sand, eyes twitching. His lighter slipped from his other hand.

Death did not come for him, or anyone else. The shockwave hit the tower but failed to shake it, or if it did it was invisible to the human eye. The ships rocked, and the waves rolled, but all Denny felt was a strong breeze that knocked him on his back.

He lay there for a bit, too stunned to move until the ever-growing waves entered his field of vision. He jumped to his feet and sprinted to the cave, barely getting out of the path of a small tsunami that rolled through the docked ships, overturning some and smashing others into each other. Riggings became tangled, deckhands were thrown overboard, and the prized flagship of the fleet was smacked so hard the hull cracked. Or maybe that had been something else. Denny wasn't too sure, his ears were still ringing from the initial explosion.

He surveyed the ruinous state of the fleet, and wondered, for the first time, if the King Cannon was a good idea after all.

.~===)==============={%}

Volta should have been stone deaf, but his ears were just as superhuman as the rest of him. As the red dust cleared and his ears stopped ringing, he finally saw who had fired the damn thing.

Borodo leaned against the pump, hands clenched around it. He breathed heavily, arms shaking. "The Marines are on their way!" he announced. "I told them that we'd beaten the Bear King already! And now that he really is…WHAT?!"

Sadly, the Bear King was still standing, another burst of his frightening speed letting the shell go just past him. His one regal cape had been mangled, but his body remained infuriatingly unblemished.

"How?!" he roared. "The Cannon requires my strength for the pump to be pulled tight again! How did you even load the shell?!"

Borodo grinned, rolling back his left sleeve. A gleaming metal arm caught the light of a thousand reflecting shards.

"The power of steam and steel! And with that power, I'll make sure my next shot doesn't miss!"

"You'll never fire my precious cannon again!" The King swiped a gun from the floor, cocking and aiming it in one fluid motion. "Die!"

BANG!

Borodo had no time to dodge the bullet, but he didn't need to. Forgotten in the chaos, Akisu ran forward and jumped.

An inarticulate scream tore out of Volta's throat, running to block the bullet himself. But he was too late. The little guy took it in the stomach, the force of the impact knocking him across the room and through the glass.

"AKIIISUUUU!"

Borodo leaped after him, through the opening and off the side of the castle. He ripped at his pack, and another parachute sprang out.

The Bear King watched them go, a disgustingly big smile on his face. "Gahahahaha, how nice of those two to take themselves out of the equation! So many dumb kids these days…"

He turned back toward Volta, as cheerful as a kid himself. "Are you ready to die now?"

Three men rushed him from behind, their faces etched in fury.

"BRUTUS BRUTALITY!"

"HAWK WAVE!"

"DREAMFYRE DROPKICK!"

The attacks smashed into him, but the smile didn't fall from his face. With a clap of his hands, his skin shone even brighter, and the three fighters fell back, blades and good foot steaming.

"Come now, little hunters. You've already tried all that. Honey, stop hiding and finish these bastards."

Volta froze. Had no one taken her out? Where was she?

He was answered in the rudest manner possible, a geyser of jelly bursting from a nearby pipe and swamping him. His hat was knocked from his head, and soon he found himself encased in a growing wave of liquid.

Another Devil Fruit power, he realized. Verdammt. It's that bloody bastard Albedya all over again.

He was beyond grateful for the naming scheme of these fruits, always upfront about what the power was. Didn't make the power itself any less dangerous, and in truth, this was worse than the Glug-Glug. The jelly was just solid enough to escape difficult, and every time he got his head out for air, it would swamp him with even greater speed, trying to get into his mouth and suffocate him. Through the blurry haze, he could see his friends struggling just as much, the jelly submerging them.

Volta couldn't hold his breath forever. His movements slowed and his eyes stung. Everything sounded very far away, and darkness began to creep along the edges of his vision.

Was this it? Doomed to die in the jelly construct of a psychotic pirate woman? He wanted to growl, to scream, but he would die in minutes as the jelly filled his lungs. All he could do was squirm.

SHUMP! SHUMP! SHUMP!

Volta was thrown against the ground, the jelly vanishing completely. His senses returned to him, and he took deep gasping breaths.

The hat! Its pin had fallen out, and the jelly must have warped into it after getting too close! Other defeated pirates were sucked in as well, along with a large amount of debris. Volta jumped to his feet and sheathed his sword, running around and grabbing the hat by its top. Where was the pin?

"What the hell did you do to Honey?!" the King roared. He stomped toward Volta, batting aside any attacks. He had grown so bright he was hard to look at, and the throne room was starting to feel like a sauna. He charged him, hands outstretched to grab and burn.

There it was! Volta snatched it up and plunged it into the hat, just before Bear could reach him. He had no time to look surprised as a cavalcade of jelly, wreckage, and limp bodies hit him square in the chest, knocking him back. The bleeding foot, looking more ragged by the minute, gave out once more as the King collapsed.

"Buki!" Slasher shouted. "How did you wound him?"

"I took him by surprise," Buki replied. "He didn't have his power up."

"But he does now," Drogon groaned, holding his broken foot. "And he ain't turnin it off any time soon."

It was a bad situation made worse by the swirling jelly, which began to consolidate into the shape of a woman. Clothing within the liquid wrapped around her, and she solidified into Honey, an expression of rage twisting her face.

"You can turn into jelly?!" Volta exclaimed.

Queen tried to respond, but a sword through the gut cut her off. Her midsection jellified, and she responded with a blast of the stuff from her fingers. Slasher fell back, slipping on the floor and falling to the ground.

"The power of a Logia Fruit is in its invincibility," Queen cooed. "No sword, fist, or bullet will even hurt me."

That…was horribly broken. And there was nothing they could do to counter it. Between her and the King, the situation was looking bleak. Did they retreat? Find some way to get them out of the throne room and away from the key? But the Marines already thought that they'd won. Their reputation was on the line thanks to Borodo.

Drogon couldn't fight anymore, Zoro helping him get away from the melee. Slasher was covered in jelly, burned from constant barrages from the King. Buki was running out of bullets. And Volta's foot trembled in agony. Rebreaking his toes was a real possibility now.

What could he do? Their powers were overwhelming. The bright glow of the Bear's skin shimmered with power, and Honey was already melting, becoming a swirling vortex of lethal liquid.

They had him in their sights, moving forward with the intent of pincering him. Drown, or burn to death? Those were his options unless he did something soon.

He glanced at his hat, still held tightly in his hands. Perhaps an answer lay within? Nothing but tea, books, a few makeshift maps, and other supplies lay within. He doubted salted crackers could defeat these monsters. The only thing that could serve as a makeshift weapon was the pin in the hat's tip, but Volta might as well use his belt buckle, for all the good it would do. His sword couldn't pierce Bear's skin, pricking him would be useless. All the damn thing could do was suppress the hat's power.

Wait.

Suppress the power. The Devil Fruit power. The only reason he could wear the hat without its Room-Room ability warping him was that the pin kept it from happening. The hat wasn't alive, it couldn't think, at least not in a conscious way. The power was automatic. But the pin still suppressed it.

Could it be?

"TIME TO DIE!" The King charged in, eyes glowing with rage and heat. Volta felt the intensity, but he no longer feared it. He leaped above the King's fist, dodging a torrent of jelly at the same time. The hat was flung away, pin between his fingers. He stuck the King's shoulder, crying out as his fingertips ignited.

And then they went out. The glow vanished, as if a light switch had been flipped somewhere in the King's body. Blood trickled down the spot where the pin had pierced him. The King paled, and his rage gave way to fear.

He reached to pull the pin out, but Volta kicked his hand with all his strength. A snap resounded through the room, and the King roared, clutching his broken wrist.

"The pin!" Slasher cried. "It was seastone! Damnit, why didn't I realize sooner?!"

"Your brain doesn't work real well when you feed it salted crackers for a week," Buki laughed, as he fired her last bullet into the King's other foot. He fell over again, and Volta doubted he'd be getting up this time.

Well, best to be sure.

"How can this be?! My army, my canon, my family! It was all so perfect!"

Volta's response was to rip the pin from his arm and punch him right in the ribs before he could think to reactivate his power. They cracked, and Volta followed it up with a roundhouse kick, slamming his good foot into his chest so hard the crunch could be heard across the room. Maybe across the whole island. The King's eyes rolled up in his head, and he went flying into the last bit of glass left, shattering it and falling to the grounds below.

THUD!

The castle shook, and the ceiling began to collapse, water from the pond above spilling over the sides and creating waterfalls around them.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall," Zoro mused.

Honey stared like a fish out of water, powers forgotten in the wake of her big brother's defeat. Volta didn't even look at her as he stuck the pin in her arm, and before the pain could rouse her from her shock, he chopped her neck. She went down like a sack of bricks.

"The ceiling's gonna fall!" Drogon shouted. The groaning and crashing could have told Volta that. He hoisted Queen over his shoulder and ran from the room, out onto the terrace. The other hunters followed, Slasher and Buki dragging a number of the downed pirates with them.

A horrendous shattering filled the air, and the throne room collapsed, tons of stone and water smashing down on top of the glass floor. Amazingly, it was the stone that broke first, scuffing its surface but failing to even crack it. The water drained away, leaving Slasher's ship unharmed but stranded on a pile of wreckage.

Volta glanced at Slasher, who surveyed his beached pride and joy with an expression of despair. "How the fuck are we gonna get it down now?"

Buki pointed up. "A small part of the roof is still intact, and it kinda looks like a tube. The wall behind the throne was made of stone too, so maybe it's some sort of water lift."

Slasher nodded. "I see. But how exactly are we gonna get it back up there?"

"I could try to kick it up," Drogon said while cradling his foot. "Just not today."

Slasher shook his head. "You're not strong enough, and if you were you'd damage the keel. Maybe we can ask the citizens of this island to make a lift of some sort, hoist it back up."

"We've got bigger problems," Zoro interrupted, pointing to the castle grounds below. Skunk's gas cloud had dispersed, and while he and his siblings were still unconscious, their many soldiers were beginning to rise. Some reached for their fallen weapons.

.~===)==============={%}

Borodo parachuted to the ground, eyes searching all the while. Fear squeezed his heart, making it beat faster by the minute, and a cold sweat had broken on his forehead. Where was Akisu? Where could he have fallen?

He found him in a tree, banged up but not too badly. Well, except for the fucking hole in his stomach, and just thinking those words filled Borodo with shame. How could he have failed so badly, that his adopted young bro had to save him from certain death?

He detached his parachute and fell amongst the branches, landing near Akisu.

"Akisu, speak to me! Please!"

The kid grinned, turning over and pulling a metal plate out from under his shirt. A very dented plate. "Always be prepared," he said with a smile. "It only hurts a little."

Relief flooded Borodo's veins, and he felt tears spring to his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! If I had been faster, more prepared, more, more…if I'd planned this out better I'd-"

Akisu shushed him with a shake of his head. "Stop beating yourself up, big bro. When you lost your arm saving me from that shark, you would have died if I hadn't been there to stop the bleeding."

Borodo paused, the events of that day replaying themselves. "That's right. And I wouldn't have this arm without you either."

"I saved you then, and I saved you now," Akisu continued. "Just like you saved me, big bro. We're always saving each other, because that's what family does."

The tears spilled over, and Borodo had to put his face in his arms to choke back his sobs. "Thank you Akisu. You truly are the best little brother I could ask for."

The soldiers down below began to stir, so Borodo and Akisu retreated deeper into the tree. "Borodo, I do have a question. I didn't get a chance to ask before since things got so crazy."

"What is it?"

"Why did we steal the hunters' ship and leave it in Trump Pirate's waters?"

Borodo stiffened. He bowed his head. "Akisu, I need to be honest with you. My plan was never to steal the Diamond Clock."

"What?! I thought that was always our plan! Don't you wanna be the Thief King?"

"I do," Borodo confirmed. "But when it comes to you, stealing isn't nearly as important as giving, and I wanted to give you answers about your past. And…I want to give you a home."

"A home?!" Akisu cried. "But my home is with you!"

Borodo grimaced. "I don't plan on staying in the East forever. I could spend half a century visiting every island on this ocean, but to truly be the king, the best of the best, there's only one place you can go."

Akisu gasped. "The Grand Line."

"That's right. Everyone's stronger, everything's bigger, and most importantly, the stealing is much, much harder…and all the more rewarding for it. I want to rob from the Emperors, from the hallowed halls of Mariejois itself! I want to etch my name into the annals of criminal history!"

Now tears sprung from Akisu's eyes. "Why can't we do that together?"

The older brother winced. "The Grand Line is a harsh place, Akisu. I could die. It's all too likely that I will. And if I took you with me, you could die too. I'll be damned before I take my little brother into danger he couldn't handle."

Akisu jumped up, face red. "What do you mean I can't handle it? If I'm not there to watch your back, then you'll be dead for sure! You've saved me twice, and I've saved you twice, and if we're ever in danger on the Line, we'll just keep saving each other! Don't insult our bond big bro!"

Borodo frowned, considering the words of his little brother. He sighed. "Akisu…back to what I said before, my plan was never to steal the Clock. It was to have someone strong beat the Trump Pirates. This is your home island. Your innate talent with machinery is proof of that. And I wanted to free it so that you could live a life of peace."

"Fuck peace!"

Borodo gasped. "Language!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm really not, because I don't want to live here! I don't want this place to suffer under the Trumps, but settle down with my parents? No way! You found me in a basket floating on the sea, without food or water! Would responsible parents ever do that to their child?"

"That's…actually an excellent point. Who would do that?"

"I'm sticking with you no matter what!" Akisu declared. "Brothers stick together!"

Borodo smiled, tearing up all over again. "I guess I'm not that good a big bro after all. I should have considered your feelings about this."

"You're considering them now," Akisu said brightly. "But there's something else you have to do, and that's apologizing to those hunters."

The thief hesitated at first, then nodded his head. "That's right. Slasher will probably kill me, but it's what I gotta do. Even a thief like me has his honor."

A crash from above drew their attention. The Bear King fell from his throne room, smashing into one of the small buildings and crumpling it under his weight. He didn't get back up.

"They did it," Borodo whispered, mindful of the moving pirates below. But the sheer joy he felt resonated through his statement. "Akisu, there are two things I need you to do for me. Meet with your parents. You don't have to stay with them, or even like them, but it will bring me some peace of mind. Every man has the right to know where they came from."

Akisu pouted slightly, but he nodded his head. "Okay. What's the second thing?"

"Eat this."

Before the kid could get away, Borodo shoved a bar of soap into his mouth.

.~===)==============={%}

The waters before the cave lay shrouded in mist, a lasting effect of the King Cannon's shot. The lookouts couldn't see through it, and the scout ship sent out had disappeared inside.

Denny felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, a prickling of the skin sending shivers down his spine. The mist rose so high it seemed to blot out the sun, though a move to the east side of the cave entrance revealed it again. Denny moved, letting the warmth from above ease his fears.

What exactly did he have to be afraid of? They had finished the Cannon and tested it, nothing more. That must have been what had happened. What other reason could there be?

He wondered if Joker was getting proper medical attention. Again, a silly thought! Of course he was, he was one of the Siblings!

Such notions of dread are unbecoming of me.

With this thought, he turned back toward the gathered officers, if they could even be called that. Donny and Danny stood at attention, a very un-pirate-like thing to do. But their numbers had grown so much over the past few years, and a measure of discipline was now necessary.

"Damage report?"

"No ships lost," Danny replied. He tussled his purple hair, eyes shifting. "But plenty of wounds and entanglements. The damage to the Heart will take a few days to seal up properly."

"See to it at once," Denny commanded. "I want all of these ships ready to sail within the week. The Cannon's done, which means the order to sail out will be coming down soon."

Donny shook his head, red locks swaying. "Fraid not for a time. Apparently, the King is getting married."

Denny's eyes shot up. "Really?! After all these years?"

"And all those advertisements," Danny snickered.

"Don't tease the boss," Denny growled. "We'll be in big enough trouble as it is if we don't get these ships in ship-shape. How's he gonna act if he finds out his fleet got messed up just as he's ready to start his conquering spree? We're lucky getting him his bride took the King's mind off the five ships he lost today, or are heads would already be rolling!"

"Good point," Donny gulped. "We'll get on it on the-"

BOOM!

Silence. The bustling noise of the harbor died, as a new sound faintly echoed throughout the cave. But it did not come from the cave.

BOOM! BOOM!

"Cannon fire?" Donny squeaked. "Who could be attacking us?"

"Are those idiots firing at sharks again?" Denny groused. "That's all it is boys. Now get back to-"

BOOM!

A dark shape blew through the mist. It sailed into the cave, smashing into the side of the nearest vessel.

BOOM!

The cannonball exploded, taking the ship with it. A small thing, barely the size of a caravel, and its crew died with it, blown into chunks of meat and bone, limbs flying off into the water and onto neighboring crafts. Splinters rained down upon the gathered pirates, and Danny collapsed, crying out as he held a hand over his right eye.

"We're under attack!" Denny roared. "Prepare for battle!" He turned toward the mist, glaring at the dark shape that grew ever clearer as it exited the mist.

His glare soon fell away as another two shadows emerged from the fog. And then another three after them. And another five after them. The very first shadow burst from the mist, a Marine man o'war in all its imperial splendor. Denny felt his blood freeze, and an old smugglers rhyme popped into his head, one he'd been told on his first day drug running.

Tan n' blue, it ain't comin for you. Dark green n' red, it's after yer head.

All Marine ships had cannons, but the caravels and cruisers handled patrols, troop transport, and the island-based mop ups. Lightly armed, brightly colored, and perfect for civilian interaction, the Navy's handsome face. Man o'wars were the blood-stained teeth behind it. Bright red doors dotted the aft castles, a foreboding sign of the carnage to come, and their dark green hulls bristled with cannons. Four long guns flank the bowsprit, which itself served as a battering ram if the fighting got up and personal. A mass of Marines roared from the deck, their cutlasses flashing.

All four of the guns were smoking, but Denny knew they'd be loaded again soon.

"BATTLE STATIONS!"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The guns fired, one after another, and Denny jumped behind a storage box, his next orders forgotten. The cannonballs flew into the cave, obliterating the nearest ships and reducing their men to a fine red mist. Denny feared for the key, but none of the shots went that far into the tunnel.

"RETURN FIRE!"

His order went unanswered, dozens of hardened pirates running form the cave's mouth. The next wave of man o'wars left the mist, but they did not add to the cannon fire, most likely in fear of destabilizing the island.

But the small shred of hope this gave Denny was snuffed by the appearance of another shadow, one that dwarfed the emerging warships. A demonic figurehead tore through the mist, the ship behind it a colossal behemoth of towers and gilded rails. Was this one of the dreaded battleships of Marine HQ, the fleet killers of the Grand Line?

Why were the Marines attacking in the first place?! The Bear King had this island hostage through the key from Trump Castle!

…unless he didn't. Unless something had gone horribly wrong. Unless the unspeakable had occurred.

An inside job? An assassination? He knew these men. He knew all the men. Seven years of service bred familiarity, companionship, a sense of unwavering loyalty. Contact with the outside world was restricted anyway, there were no chances of-

"…no."

"No?!" Donny cried. "No what?! We're getting massacred!"

His head jerked back, more red mist filling the air. Denny flung himself away, and what felt like hellfire sliced into his back. Donny collapsed, his body jerking as more bullets tore through it.

"GATLING GUNS!" a pirate screamed, right before he too was cut down. The pirates were in full retreat now, many falling as they tried to return fire with their muskets. The first couple man o'wars had made landfall, their troops thundering down the planks and storming the beaches. Several of the gatlings gleamed from the ships' bows, spewing death into the Trump hordes.

"They can't risk destroying the key," Denny mumbled. "Cannonballs are too destructive. Can bullets hurt the key?" Who was he even talking too?

He didn't feel any pain, and he couldn't hear much beyond a dull ring. The world seemed to darken, to blur. Or was that…tears. It was tears. He was crying.

"I did this," Denny said to no one. "I let them in. I let them in."

Another pirate, another of his men, his comrades, collapsed near him, knife falling from limp fingers. Denny picked it up. An explosion propelled a splinter into his arm, and he ran, away from the guns and the bullets, from the men in white uniforms tearing apart seven years of work.

How long had it been since the shadows appeared? Seven minutes? Had seven years been lost in seven minutes?

The tunnels. Safety in the tunnels.

He ran to the nearest opening, deep within the cave. It led down into the depths, the dank rock of the undersea island, where the groaning of the great key reverberated without end.

He grabbed a lantern from the shelf, the one made for such travels, and ran into the darkness. The screams and guns faded away, echoes and whispers, and then nothing. Nothing but the slaps of his feet against the cold hard rock beneath them.

How long did he run? How far did he go? He couldn't say, would never remember. But he found himself on the floor, shaking and crying, the lantern near him but no longer in his hands.

He'd done this. He'd doomed them all. Those bastards must have wounded Joker and played him for a fool. Why did he ever entertain the idea that Joker could have fallen on his own? How long had he practiced on those stairs, amongst those traps that would have grown ever more predictable? He hadn't believed in his boss. He'd believed in strangers instead.

"I bet there wasn't any fucking funeral," he moaned. "No grandma or lost suits. Nothing but lies, lies, lies, LIES LIES LIES!" He punched the wall, skin splitting on his knuckles, and the pain grounded him, brought him to his senses.

Except, what sense was there? The Trumps were doomed, kaput, out of the running. Those assassins must have been successful, for the Marines to finally risk an assault like this. All the lieutenants were likely dead. His men were dead. He felt dead. He could be dead, with this knife. Why go on? He'd given his late teens and early twenties to the Trumps. Now he stood at twenty-five, with nothing to show for it. His best years had been wasted. He was wasted.

He gripped the knife, pressing its edge to his throat. Shit, cold! No, he couldn't do it, it would be too painful, and he couldn't handle any more pain. His back was wet with the blood where the bullet had grazed him, arm dripping where the splinter had speared him.

Footsteps. A growing light. Denny froze. Had others followed him down here? Were they his men, what was left of them?

"Who's down here! You're under arrest!"

Shit shit shit fuck! Oh god, please no, please!

He was going to spend his life in prison, rotting away from the inside out. He'd be tortured and interrogated. He'd be sent to Impel Down, to suffer forever. They say you never die once you pass its burning gates, not even when they tear off your head and stuff your neck full of brimstone.

The light grew brighter. No choice, no hesitance. If he died, he would die fighting. The knife shook in his hands, but he steadied them. As soon as he rounded the bend, as soon as he saw his face and the whites of his eyes-

What?

He was dressed like a Marine, navy-colored pants and a white sleeveless shirt, blue neckerchief and baseball cap. His musket was the same musket a million other Marines carried. Standard as standard got, more of a mook then he was.

His face was the same as Denny's. Same square-like jaw, same high cheekbones. His sideburns were shorter and he had no goatee, but from the light of the lantern, Denny could tell his hair was the same color as his too. Even the fucking eyebrows, the lines on his face, the little squint of his eyes. The slight hook of the nose. The light brown of his irises.

They stared at each other, neither moving, neither blinking. Their faces were truly identical now, perfect replicas of shock and confusion. The world around them fell away, the groaning of the key fading to a whisper.

Long-lost brothers? A hiccup in some family's bloodline? Or coincidence, fate bringing impossibilities out of the ether?

The Marine's mouth twisted, trying to find words and failing. Denny spoke first, in the tone of the reverent.

"I'm saved."

What followed next felt like a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare. The musket was fired, and the bullet missed, and Denny sank his knife into something soft. Stomach? Leg? Neck? It didn't matter. He kept stabbing. He stabbed as if his life depended on it, because it did.

And then he wasn't stabbing anymore. There wasn't much air down here, and he collapsed against the wall, breathing hard. The Marine gasped for air too but didn't find it, blood bubbling out of his mouth. Something vital had given way.

And then he didn't do anything. Gun fell into the pool of blood, growing steadily on the ground.

Did anyone hear that shot? The echo effect down here isn't strong, so I could be safe for the next couple minutes.

There was an implicit statement in those thoughts. That he could do what he planned to do quickly, without pity or feeling. That he could sacrifice something just as vital as what he had just taken from the younger soldier before him.

He stared into the light of the lantern. In a way, it felt like staring into himself. Yes, he could do this. The details were working themselves out in his mind, like clockwork.

"I will survive."

He shivered. It had sounded resolute in his head, but against the walls of the cave, the words held an ominous weight. Perhaps that was only right.

He stripped off everything, even his boxers, the ones his mother had made for him. He wondered what she would think of him now, but he'd never met her, so why should he care? He stripped the Marine next, undoing his shoes and slipping off his pants. Most of his clothes were bloodsoaked, the once white shirt slashed all over the front. He abandoned it. The hat would serve, and it was spotless. Instead, he used the shirt to clean off his knife. Without a mirror, he cut himself twice, but that only added to the effect. His goatee and half his sideburns fluttered to the ground.

"I will survive," he repeated. It sounded better that time.

Now came the hard part. He sliced into his chest and stomach, deep enough to cut the skin. Only by biting down on his own clothing did he keep from screaming. They bled, but not terribly. Wounds would distract from any mannerisms he exhibited that his lookalike had not, and over time he'd piece together what needed to be done to keep up the charade. He didn't plan on using it long anyway, but details mattered. You learned that quickly when you became a bookkeeper.

One last step, and this could kill him. But he'd come so far already. With a grunt, he bashed his head against the wall. The pain blinded him, and everything went gray. He fell into the pool, which had begun to congeal.

Stars and stripes, and a seagull that screamed bloody murder at him. He supposed he deserved that last one. Then all became clear again. He had a splitting headache, and the final excuse for what was to come. Now all he needed to do was sell the part.

He piled his clothing, his knife, and the body together, then opened the lantern and ignited the Marine's ragged shirt. He tossed it on top of the pile, picked up the musket, and walked back to the surface. He didn't look back. He wasn't sure he'd be able to go forward if he did.

.~===)==============={%}

"Commodore, this is Hardy," the Lieutenant Commander called. "I've secured the cavern. Most of the enemy pirates have been destroyed or captured."

The transponder snail glared, its bulging cheeks flush with red swirls. "And the elevator?"

"Secured. We forced one of the pirate leaders to clear it for lowering, and we're loading our best troops into it as we speak to secure the outpost above."

"Excellent work," the Commodore replied, a smirk curling the snail's lips. "I'll be there soon. I can't wait to finally impound those audacious brats!" CA-LICK

Hardy put away his snail, turning toward the key. Its width was incredible, as was its blemishless surface.

"These Clockwork people make some incredible things," Hardy muttered. He stroked his mustache, wondering if the Commodore would take an interest. He usually did when something strange and powerful lay in his sight.

"Captain?"

Hardy looked behind him, and all thoughts of the Commodore fled his mind. "Kubomi?! What the hell happened to you?!"

Kubomi, Seaman First Class. A Marine with promise, which Hardy had taken notice of. He didn't see any of that promise now. The soldier was shirtless, bleeding profusely from his stomach and arm. His head was even worse, a nasty gash spilling more blood over his face and neck. But his eyes were the worst, dull and colorless. The eyes of a man who had seen far too much in too little time.

"Sir…captain…I…I…"

"MEDIC!" Hardy roared. Several Marines scrambled to his side, their shirts and hats marked with the red cross. A stretcher was prepared, and Kubomi collapsed into it. In minutes he was wrapped tight, a healing salve applied to his wounds.

"They're worse than they look," one of the medics assured. "We can stabilize him back on the ship."

"I…killed them."

The medics paused, and Hardy blinked. "Killed who?"

"Pirates…in the caverns…underneath. Killed them…to the last...man."

"Well done Kubomi," Hardy said with a smile. "I'll see you rewarded for your sacrifice."

Kubomi blinked, eyes unfocused. "Kubomi? Who…is Kubomi?"

"Oh, shit," one of the medic's breathed. "His head…"

Hardy teared up, the implications hollowing him. "Don't worry soldier. We'll help you remember. Your squad will help you remember."

"Squad…ah, yeah…I have a squad…"

"GET HIM TO THE SHIP IMMEDIATELY!" Hardy screamed. The medics picked up the stretcher, carrying it as fast as they could without upsetting its occupant.

"You're going to be alright," a medic said brightly. "The Navy's got the best medical equipment on the seas. You know what the Navy is, right? We'll take care of you soldier. You will survive."

Kubomi chuckled weakly. "I know."