First of all, I would like to formally apologize to everyone and anyone who might have been keeping up with this fic a year and a half ago, and waited for an update for so long.

Though, many of you are probably stumbling across this fic for the first time, so...

Sorry. My life went crazy after my exams and such, with hospitals and diseases and general real life things that take people out of commission for a while. And then I became a senior, made some actual friends (which was kind of huge for me at the time) and next thing I know, more than a year had gone by.

I'm really, really sorry.

But now I'm a college student! Yay? At a university so out of my league it's not even funny, or lucky, just terrifying. Hence, I've gotten back into the swing of writing about the comforting world of Home Free.

So, we'll be going back to the original update schedule, of a chapter every two weeks or so.

Thanks, darlings~

Disclaimer: One Piece and all characters and concepts associated with it do not belong to me.

Familiarity and Historian

He woke up to her in the crumbling ruins, a hole in her back from a hook and blood leaking from the corner of her mouth. Had she bitten her tongue or lip, or was her internal organs so badly damaged? Tears were rolling down her face; quiet sobs echoing in the ancient tome as she told the king the truth about her wishes.

"Hoping, and expecting, are two different matters. I have always been looking for the true history." His vision was blurring around the edges, and he was lying on the hard tile of stone, but there was still feeling in his limbs. The king did not grasp her words, but they struck a chord of recognition within him.

A distant memory of three years ago.

"I don't understand, what is this 'true history'?" The woman grew silent, as if disappointed that the royal did not know what she spoke of, before shuddering out a painful breath. Her eyes were familiar, in that moment, to Luffy at least. They were blue, but the same as his brother's despite the disparity of color.

"...Forget it."

He didn't want to see that look on her face, or that broken curve of her lips, or the cold acceptance and despair in her countenance.

"For twenty years, I have searched for it. Here lies my last hope, nothing more than another failure." A familiar rage and love bubbled in his chest, like that moment in Arlong Park where he landed in Nami's prison cell.

Nico Robin should smile honestly, with shining eyes and a bell-like laugh. She shouldn't bleed or cry; she should be happier. She should eat more; she was too thin. He wanted to brush the dust out of her hair and make her laugh. He wanted to tell her that whatever she was trying to do, she hadn't failed, because she was alive and that meant she could try again. As long as you live, you can always try again.

"Dying here, like this, it was inevitable. I'm tired of this life! All I wanted... all I wished was to find the true history. Yet...my dream...just had too many enemies."

Enemies? Who? She couldn't die here! No matter who her enemies were or how many they numbered, she, who had saved his life without a catch, should not be so crushed.

"But...What if...we found the history that cannot be told? The meaning of the true history-"

The true history. The truth. It sounded nice, the truth. He didn't like lies.

Why did the government want such a lady dead, from when she was eight? She must be like Ace. He had to get her out of here, she should live, just like Ace should live, just like Sabo should have lived.

He rose to his feet shakily, but he felt sturdy. He felt more certain about what he must do than he had in a long time. The cloaked man in the rain had told him that someday, he'd know what he wanted from the world, and he felt closer to those words now, as if they suddenly mattered while before they were just another mystery.

He grabbed the king and the woman, slinging her over his shoulder and ignoring the hole in her back. She would live, he'd make sure of it.

"Stop, you stupid marine! I'm going to die anyway, so leave me!" She clawed at his back, yelling in his ear, but more importantly, she was still crying. The king was shuddering in his grasp, eyes wide and body frail. He was old and brittle, the woman thin and fragile. Handle with care.

"I don't want you to die." He said, because it was that simple. She saved him tons of times already, and she had dreams that made his heart soar. He would make that pretty goal his own, just like all the others.

So he carried them out, the woman hissing and spitting about bounties and greed, the old man watching him with awed eyes.

The truth, he liked the sound of that. It was a pretty word, blue. Definitely blue. But the lady was purple...

And he collapsed, after somehow sitting the king down and setting the woman on her feet. Must...be hard to...walk in those shoes...of hers...

"King guy," He managed to force out, "Don't let them get her. Can you- can you hide her in the palace?"

"I can, if she is willing."

Ah, that was good. The king was a nice guy, like Vivi. Wow, the lady's heels were... really tall. She was really tall...

"I like it. Your dream." And it was all black as the skies cried.

"Geez, Luffy, what's going on with you? You only just woke up, but have such a serious face on!"

"Yeah, and what are you wearing? The nice servants patched up your uniform for you, so why-"

"Everyone," He interrupted, and they all fell silent, recognizing his tone. "There's something I need to talk to you all about."

Chapter 4: In Your Eyes

Day 2: 3:00 A.M.

It was funny how his hometown affected his current life in so many ways. Some days he felt endlessly dogged on by nostalgia, unable to think of much else but the brightest days of his childhood. If all headings lead to Sabaody Archipelago, then all thoughts lead back home.

Now, the underlying stink of trash and sickness not quite masked underneath layers and layers of pungent Alabastan perfume and cheap incense burned the nose of his companion, causing the not-quite-man to cough into his sleeve and wheeze at intervals. But the odor tickled his nose and attempted to make him smile and laugh, resulting in a struggle to maintain his mask. The horrible smell was just so familiar.

Across the beaten, dented and grease-marked table, the amateur reporter Abusa was muttering under his harsh breaths about the stench, glowering about the dark, musky room, even though he had thought the man would appreciate how the dark and the stink of death resembled Thriller Bark. Still, since he was apparently relaxed enough to complain, the man must have been unperturbed by his presence, though he chalked the reporter's comfort up to arrogance. Apparently the subordinate of a former Warlord maintained his dignity and status within his own mind, even in the piranha pool that was the pirates' New World.

"About my pay?" His companion demanded after a minute of struggling to breathe in the backroom of a seedy bar in the middle of one of the grimiest towns on the sea. Considering the entire inelegance of their situation, one would think that Abusa would be a bit more polite toward his employer, but even coated in filth with torn sleeves and stained shirts, the man with a lion face believed himself to have enough ground to act like he was still an actual player in the game on the high seas, not an obsolete laughingstock writing for gossip rags.

Nevertheless, he pulled out the requested bag of coin and tossed it upon the table. The hybrid creature leaped upon it with a sort of rapid desire that caused him to chuckle. How the mighty can fall.

Once the payment was in grasp, Abusa regained his prideful demeanor, leathery nose high in the air. "Not enough," He hissed, even as he clutched the money close to his chest, "I said I wanted to be completely reimbursed for the dangers I had to go through to get that information."

He laughed again. He couldn't help it. "Revenge was part of your pay. We aren't going to pay you a fortune for the payback you've been dreaming of."

"Payback." Abusa snorted under another suffering breath. Zombie land must have smelt better than he initially assumed. "Except there's no guarantee of that at all, is there?"

"If you think one of our plans is going to fail, you've been reading too much propaganda. And not even the good stuff."

"Maybe Whitebeard will snuff those bastard Marines for us, maybe not. I want my fair cut either way."

"Those 'bastard Marines' are already suffering a great deal because of your article, I assure you. If you'd like, we can provide front-row seats to the fallout when this finally all blows up."

"I—we—don't want seats, we want blood and our status back. But we can't get either right now, so give me my damn pay."

"No." The affect was instantaneous. Abusa stiffened and quaked almost unnoticeably. The pirate turned reporter may have skin harder than some rocks, a fantastically useful Devil Fruit, and combat skills and experience of one of the top dogs of Paradise, but it seemed even lions know when they were outclassed and outmatched.

A moment passed like sake on the tongue, and Abusa shifted. He cradled the sack of coin, but his eyes were narrowed with a final question.

"Why?"

He laughed again. There was the question at the center of everything. Why were they involved in what seemed to be a clear-cut pirates vs. marines confrontation in the New World, the ocean they focused on the least, because it was already lawless? Why were they focused on a single Marine base in particular?

"There's a war brewing, whether we interfere or not, Absalom, and one side has to give. The strongest aren't going to survive this battle, and no matter what, the fallout is going to shake the world to its very core. But why rely on luck and chance when you can rig the game in your favor? When they fall we shall take their place, and this whole world will know a brand new era. Our era!"

Day 2: 5:00 A.M.

Marco had found his way to the secluded dock he had summoned his friends to entirely by accident. He had really just been wandering about, until he had somehow managed to stumble across a rather suspicious scene.

There had been a single Marine standing by the rocky outcrop the phoenix had elected to hide within, on the edge of the base yard, muttering into a transponder snail. Every bit of the man's posture had suggested that he was up to something; honestly he had seemed more like a fugitive than Marco himself did, in that moment.

Most importantly, the man had been reporting to some authoritative sounding voice on the other end of the line about some "suspicious dock" that the Vice-Admiral in charge had personally announced off-limits months ago, due to some kind of fault in the cavern's structural integrity.

The furtive man had made sure to specify that he was sure "that the Vice-Admiral had no idea what those words even mean" and that none of the surveillance in the cavern worked any longer.

All in all, it was definitely suspicious, and wonderfully convenient.

So Marco had found his way to the sanctioned off dock and directed his brothers in.

"'Bout time." Haruta muttered as they disembarked the little dinghy, stretching their legs and cracking all sorts of sore joints in the slovenly way only truly experienced sailors could manage. "Where's Ace?"

Marco shrugged. "I lost him in the river."

The scandalized look Vista shot him had been expected. But really, what could Marco have done?

"Well," Izo pursed her lips, "this plan is just going great."

The phoenix sighed. Criticism was not what any of them needed right now. But she had a point, considering they had barely begun and already screwed themselves over. "Let's just go find some place that can tell us where the hell Thatch is being held."

"Right," Vista agreed, eyebrows turned towards the sky with some kind of mix of anticipation and exasperation, "What about the boat?"

Marco surveyed the area. In the dark, it was nearly impossibly to distinguish the identity of all the dark, shrouded shapes scattered around the cavern, but there were some other small crafts bobbing in the water that he could barely make out in the gloom.

"Leave it, there's plenty of junk here, and this place is supposed to be off-limits. Nobody will notice."

He really should not have said that, but he did. Just as they were all walking away, a light turned on somewhere on the other side of the cavern. It wasn't nearly bright enough to illuminate them or anywhere close to their position, but it did reveal a huge lumbering figure rising from the floor.

"What a suuuuper nap!" A loud voice echoed over to them as two disproportionately gigantic arms lifted into the air in a stretch.

"Off-limits, huh?" Izo muttered, fingering her pistol's handle. Marco motioned for the group to be still and quiet. Whoever-or whatever-was over there hadn't noticed them yet, and he wasn't about to give their position away.

The bizarre figure began to fiddle around with the dark constructs around him, humming in a loud rumble, and seemed to be thankfully turned away from their position.

The phoenix gave the signal to scram, and as one they crept away from the dock back to the lightless passage from which he had originally entered.

Until Vista mistepped, and just a single foot-wide square gave way under his foot, like some kind of trigger.

Observational Haki was the only thing that saved them from being bisected by the axe that suddenly came swinging down upon them from the darkness above.

It did not, however, prevent Haruta from losing a chunk of his sleeve to it, and screaming "Holy fuck!" in the highest pitch voice that Marco had heard in years.

The big guy-thing across the way jerked his head up.

"Shit, just run!" Marco hissed, shoving Haruta forward. Another bad move, as when Izo moved to follow, her sandal caught onto some kind of wire lying across the floor, and Vista stepped on some sort of tiny contraptions on the ground as he stumbled in the murky gloom of ocean fog and shadow.

Marco smelled the gas immediately. "Go, go!" He yelled out this time, running for all he was worth the moment the others kicked themselves in gear. The wire Izo had pulled must have been some kind of ignition device, as he saw a spark tracing along the ground as he ran.

Behind them, the walls started spitting fire like flamethrowers, and the blast of heat was so hot it singed their backs.

Hot licks of flame burst into the passage right after them as they dashed through, and for a moment, Marco sardonically wondered if this was some kind of karmic retribution placed upon him for leaving a certain Fire Fist behind.

Day 2: 8:00 A.M.

"Zoro!" The came echoing down the hall to him and he did not even blink. The tinge of panic in it was normal after all, since the secretary was always freaking out over something or another, high-strung as he was. Typical Usopp.

Nonchalantly, Zoro turned back towards the office, hand rubbing over the handle of Kuina's blade. Patience.

The distressed sniper collided with him before he could make two steps, hands waving in the air, holding some kind of glossy paper.

"What," He grunted, trying to escape the reach of the flailing arms, and paused when an elbow swung dangerously close to his nose, "is it, now?" A while back, he wouldn't be fazed at all by any kind of impending blow by Usopp, considering he used to be a complete stick, but nowadays, after Zoro had personally instructed him in weight training, the younger man was ripped. An elbow to the face would definitely hurt now.

"Pi-pi-pirate!" The sniper wailed, shoving his paper-cut inducing weapon into Zoro's face, and again the swordsman had to mentally restrain himself. Patience.

On the page was Whitebeard's second division commander, a half-dressed man with fair, freckled skin and dark wavy hair, and an almost familiar grin. Zoro couldn't remember immediately what the smile was reminiscent of, so he let the brief thought go, figuring if he couldn't initially recall, it probably wasn't all that important.

"Yes," Zoro grinds out, focusing on the idiocy going on before him, "that's a pirate."

"No!" Usopp snapped, shaking his head so hard his hair escaped his bandana, "Well, okay, yes, but that's not what I meant!"

Zoro waited, measuring the sniper with an even stare. Usopp was generally neurotic on the best of days, but most of that was over exaggerating his own feelings since he was so used to always acting out. But there were days when the sniper division captain was absolutely spot-on with his worry, considering he was by no means a stupid or unobservant man.

Forcing himself to acknowledge the current situation, Zoro admitted it might just be one of those days.

Usopp took a breath, began again, broke off, and took another for good measure. Days at sea and experience in battle had taught him ways to steady himself, at least.

"Last night I went fishing—"

"In the river with no fish?"

"Yes, in the river with no fish. Except I caught something."

"Look, you idiot, now's not the time for your—"

"I'm not lying this time!"

Zoro believed that, as Usopp only ever really weaved stories for Luffy, Chopper, and occasionally Brook, knowing full well that the rest of them would fall for his bull on the same day Zoro let Kuina's katana rust.

"I pulled a guy out of the river. Which seemed weird at the time, but lots of weird stuff happens here, Luffy's in charge, for god's sake, and if that's not the weirdest—"

Zoro interrupted with a grunt, and Usopp backtracked to the actual topic of relevance. A calloused finger points at the cheerfully grinning Fire Fist.

"Right. So the sketchy guy, I only just realized, was definitely this guy!"

Patience. Quiet breath in, quiet breath out. Something excited and bloodthirsty bubbled in his chest, and his hands slid to the hilts of his swords habitually.

One of the strongest active pirates sailing the world's oceans, one whose name was so infamous that citizens quivered when they spoke it, was somewhere on this blasted rock they called a base.

Sadly, the pirate commander was no swordsman, but thankfully he would without a doubt be a tough opponent, as most Logia fruit users were. And there was a chance that there was a talented swordsman with him, as Zoro seriously doubted that the Emperor famous for being protective over his men would send a single crewman to fetch a captured comrade all alone.

A viciously ruthless grin stretched across his face.

But before he could go hunting, he had to take care of his responsibilities outside of battle.

"Go report this to Luffy and Sanji. There's probably other's about, so keep it discreet. They've shown up sooner than expected, but if they don't know we're onto them, we still have the advantage."

Usopp gulped, nervous sweat making its way down his wan face. "Right." He nodded, gathered his bravado, and set off into a hurried, but resolute strut.

Zoro grinned proudly after him, recalling the broken wreck of a kid they first encountered what felt like a lifetime ago. Their sniper still had a ways to go, but his progress was still not bad at all.

Now, it was time for him to track down some pirate scum.

Day 2: 8:00 A.M.

She felt confident walking through this portion of the base. This particular ship bay, built into the cliffs, was private and sealed off from any without clearance, aka the whole base with the exception of ten people. Normally that would not be enough to keep curious troops away, but the ghost stories and severe security sure helped. Franky's workshop was his and his alone, though he often left and worked among the other shipwrights on the docks, but this spacious, echoing room held his special and discreet projects. The bay was an old cavern in the harbor's cliffs that had been converted and walled with steel. Every sound always echoed, including the heavy ringing of a hammer against metal that sang through the air all around her. Music was blaring out of the speakers built into the walls, mixing in with the racket of a heavy cyborg at work. Her movements were silent in comparison, until she announced her presence when her eyes fell on the great curve of his back. "Working hard?"

Franky turned to her with a friendly grin, unsurprised. His usually immaculately blue hair was streaked with machine grease, and his skin shined with sweat, but his characteristic energy remained. "You can say that again!" He barked out a laugh, lifting up his sunglasses to look at her. Heaven knows why he needs sunglasses indoors when the sun was barely up in the sky. "What's a pretty lady like you doing down here so early in the morning?"

She smiled at him congenially, "A request from the commander. It seems that little project of yours is going to be needed sooner than anticipated." She glanced about for said project, but the machines all around her were almost undecipherable. She supposed some were engines, but the others she could only guess about. Franky was currently beating at a cylindrical piece of sheet metal, but she has no inkling at to what it would be for.

Franky blinked at her before refocusing on the work before him, tapping patiently at it with his hammer. "Eh? I know. Luffy just came by yesterday to tell me he needed it to be done soon."

She chuckled under her breath. The problem with the base's layout was that Franky somehow ended up almost isolated from the rest of the base's activity. The cutoff was the reason for him journeying out of his bunker to work in the open so often. "Unfortunately, the situation has changed since yesterday. We need it completed sooner than soon."

His face was contorted in a gruff frown as he turned back to her, "Pah! Well, that's just totally suuuuper." He muttered unenthusiastically at first, but soon brightened up again seconds later. He had an insatiable appetite for challenge, after all. "Heh, no matter, something like this is a cinch for me! After the all-nighter I pulled, this baby's gonna be complete by tonight."

"Really? You're amazing, Franky." The words come surprisingly honestly, and she did feel genuinely impressed. He clearly appreciated the praise, knowing her approval in the past was not so easily earned.

"This is nothing! I'll even have time to put the finishing touches on that other project of mine…" He drifted off at the end, wistful. Franky had been boasting about his little pet project for weeks, calling all sorts of bizarre materials in secret, all hidden within the base's budget, and smuggling them away before anybody saw them. Luffy had been eager to crack the mystery for roughly an hour, a long time for him, and had then lost interest.

"The one you still refuse to show anybody?" She teased, partly to hide her own curiosity. Franky was not a secretive man, and she could not help but find his rare secrets enticing.

"It's a surprise! You better not have been peeking, Nico Robin!" His answering laugh was good-natured.

"I would never dream of it."

Her arms sprouted along the floor behind her in a long line, pushing forward a cart borrowed from the kitchens. She couldn't help but chuckle as Franky immediately perked up, metal nose caught by the intoxicating scent of Sanji's cooking.

"That breakfast?"

"Of course."

"SUPER!"

Robin selected her own mug of coffee from the cart as it passed, before taking advantage of Franky's distraction via buttermilk biscuits with gravy, baked fruits, quiche, and stuffed French toast. Her own breakfast had been far less heavy, and hadn't included bottles of Cola for refueling, but even she had to admit it smelled divine, so it was no surprise Franky fell upon it like a starved wolf. With the cyborg unfocused on her snooping, she was free to wander around his workshop a little. She still recognized very little of what was around her, so decided to go look at the finished pieces that were in the water at the mouth of the ship bay. The Mini Merry II was there, bobbing in the water cheerfully as always, but seemed bizarrely excited, rising and falling in the still water.

She took note of the other crafts tied to the dock, noting there was a little dinghy she didn't recognize. It was a rickety thing, plain wood with paddles, and most importantly, decidedly unFranky.

"Franky?" She called out, before summoning a head on the cyborg's shoulder when he didn't respond.

"Hmmm? Something wrong?" He asked.

"Did you have any visitors last night?"

"Somebody snuck around and triggered a bunch of my traps. I figure it was just some newbies, ya know?"

Robin kneeled, inspecting the remains and wreckage of said traps. In the clutter of some broken device, she found a torn scrap of cloth, green, smelling starkly of salt and the sea.

Soldiers on their base were all required to wear their uniforms at sea, and she was familiar with each custom uniform the higher officers often wore. The fabric was of South Blue origin, based on its texture, and matched no uniforms or clothes that saw long voyages on base.

She stood, rolling the scrap in her hand. "I find that unlikely. Can you come here? I believe we have some, ah, vermin to take care of."

Day 2: 9:00 A.M.

He had arrived on base just a month ago, which made him the rookie of his unit, and therefore the natural delegate for all shit nobody else wanted to do.

Like giving some G7 guys a tour of their base instead of preparing for imminent invasion via the strongest-and-quite-possibly-angriest pirate in the world. So here he was, greeting a group of twenty or so Marines he didn't know on the docks, early in the morning. They weren't an unusual bunch for Marines of the New World, with non-regulation haircuts and uniforms and curious weapons, and particularly unremarkable compared to the quirky personalities he had grown used to encountering on base. He noted one due to his extraordinarily long and very square nose that was reminiscent of the Sniper division, and a few others because they looked and acted just plain bizarre. Who had a zipper for a mouth anyway?

But whatever, the head doctor on base was furry with a blue nose, so he really couldn't bring himself to care about why the one with long pink hair was attempting to cut open his own stomach on their nice, clean dock, just that he stopped before Captain Nami saw and decided to charge them for vandalism and neglect.

"Can we start the tour now?" He groaned at the one that seemed to be the leader, a tall man with funky facial hair and a pigeon. "I don't want to get robbed so early in the morning."

"Robbed?" The little bird perched on the visitor's shoulder echoed.

"Nothing," He replied, maybe a little too quickly, considering the raised eyebrow the goatee man gave him. "What was your name again?"

"Were we not about to begin the tour?" The blond woman cut in, and wow, she was pretty. Like, Captain Nami pretty, just in different ways.

"Oh, right. We ready to go?" He addressed the rowdy group that were arguing off to the side, with the two huge guys and one with a greasy black ponytail who looked more like a thug from G5 than a Marine. The woman, square-nose, horn-guy, and weasel boy standing behind goatee were more behaved, along with the less interesting others.

"Sure, whatever, let's get this over with already," Pony-tail thug grunted, looking positively thunderous, and he was tempted to point out that he didn't want to be here either, and was perfectly willing to let them get lost on their own, but figured he should play nice with visiting divisions. Might get him off this crazy base sooner.

"Okay, let's start then. Welcome to G9, one of the smaller Marine bases in the New World, and the one with the most sweltering weather and most absolute nothing around. We've got a several training fields on the other side of base, one forested, the others covered in very, very exciting sand. Feel free to make use of these facilities over the duration of your stay, just try not to die of dehydration, because we probably won't find your body for a while."

Nobody even chuckled as he talked, some tough crowd, huh? Whatever. He was too exasperated for laughter anyway.

"Once we step off these docks we'll be in the shipyards, and if you actually look where I'm pointing you'll see many of the entrances to the actual base. We have many buildings here on G9, and to maximize air-conditioned space and minimize the amount of time we have to spend in the blazing heat in the summer, these buildings are connected with bridge corridors that link together the third floors. One, as you can see, even goes over the Boiling Brook, the river that runs into the harbor. This river brings in the extremely hot water from the Southern side of the island, in the Blistering Strip, so try not to fall in. On particularly hot days, men have come out with third degree burns—"

He talked mostly on reflex, spewing out the things he had learned about the base during his month stay. It helped to be a motor mouth, sometimes. He was on a roll, about to lead the group into the administration building and introduce them to the true wonders of air-conditioning when the pigeon interrupted him.

"Where's the pirate?" It chirped, but he was pretty sure that Goatee was just a master of ventriloquism and was really the one speaking, even if he didn't look remotely like the kind of guy to try that kind of joke. But the question caused him to pause.

He and everyone else of base had been confused and anxious over the topic of the captured Whitebeard pirate, and he was ashamed to admit that almost mutinous thoughts had been swirling under the surface of recent events. But a base must always put aside its own internal issues and stand as a united front when faced with outsiders, fellow Marines or not.

"That's not of any concern right now." And it wasn't any of their business. There were plenty of things on base he didn't understand, the base commander's decision to put all of them directly in the line of fire of an Emperor one of them, but there were the others: the singing he heard in the halls, the purpose behind the presence of strange, unregistered people like the green-haired swordsman, the blue-haired Speedo guy, and the elusive woman he glimpsed sometimes. Some twisting feeling in his gut told him to keep his mouth shut about all of those things. It wasn't any of their business, absolutely not.

The swordsman had saved his entire division, two weeks ago, from an ambush on the high seas, tearing apart the murderous scum with two katana in his hands and one in his mouth. The Pirate Hunter, everyone called him that, Roronoa Zoro.

The Speedo guy, Franky, was a fun and always there to talk with anyone who needed to, always working in the carpenters area with a smile and laugh. He had big hands and a metal body, not to mention a terrible idea of fashion, but he blasted loud music and always offered cool drinks on training days, and was all around a great guy.

He had never spoken to the woman, it seemed like nobody ever did, or if they did they weren't being forthcoming about it. She seemed to be perpetually reading, and could be spotted sitting on a balcony if one looked hard enough or glimpsed for brief moments out of the corner of the eye in one walked the aisles of the library. She was a forbidden topic for the most part; Captain Sanji seemed to be able to hear anything and everything in the mess hall and was notorious for despising gossip, and would shut down any mention of her with a kick, and Captain Nami, his Captain, or Captain Usopp always seemed to pop up and derail the conversation everywhere else.

He trusted his Captain, admired her, so he kept his mouth shut.

It was just a precaution, because it's not like these guys were here to dig up secrets anyway, right?

Ace had never been so grateful to run into a tour group in his life. He didn't understand how something so impossibly convenient could present itself on a silver platter to him, who was usually so incredibly unlucky, but hey, he's not going to question it. He snuck after them, keeping out of sight behind stacks of barrels and supplies, and grinned when they began to head into a building.

He'd been lost since he got separated from Marco and pulled from the river, wandering hopelessly in the dark until he was so thoroughly turned around that he hadn't a clue where he should be meeting up with the others. Dawn had come eventually, and he had been forced to try and stay out of sight, at least until he could steal a uniform and change out of his very, very distinctive clothes. He stuck out like a sore-thumb now, orange hat bright in the mid-morning sun, and had been trying to find his way indoors without being spotted by a patrol. Normally, he would just knock some poor trooper unconscious and steal his clothes, but he didn't want to risk anyone being alerted of a hostile presence of base.

He had located many entrances into the buildings, as well as many open caverns for ships carved in the cliffs that joined up directly with said buildings, but was wary of entering the labyrinth that was the inside of most Marine strongholds without any sort of sense of the layout.

He followed the tour in, the strained voice of the guide filtering down, at a safe distance. They had entered through heavy iron doors that he had to catch before they slammed shut, and entered into a long corridor with metal walls and little else. The corridor would take them past the storage rooms and such, he heard, until they reached the stairs that would lead them up to the next two floors, where the administrative offices were. Once he was sure the tour was out of earshot he started opening up the doors on both sides of the hall, locating boxes of supplies and filing cabinets, copying machines and janitorial carts, all typical storage.

A couple minutes of rummaging like an expert, or rather a kid that grew up in a giant heap of trash, and he eventually triumphantly found a cleaning crew outfit, with a matching cap that might obscure his features.

He would have preferred a typical troop's uniform, but he figured the administrative building didn't need to keep those handy.

"We're being followed." He whispered to the leader, glancing behind them, but only hiding an empty corridor. He turned forward again, feigning to be interested in the rambling of their guide. His boss didn't reply, but he hadn't really expected anything besides the coo of the pigeon.

The blond to his side nodded and agreed, serious as ever. "Yes, but by whom? They can't suspect us already."

"Maybe the base commander sticks a spy on everyone who comes by to visit." He wondered, only half serious, half joking. None of his companions seemed to care.

"People only become suspicious enough to do something like that when they legitimately have something to hide." Unexpectedly, their leader threw in his two cents, the glint of a beast coming down of cornered prey in his eyes.

He almost felt bad for the base commander, but considering that the head of the Navy didn't usually call for a secret, intensive investigation on loyal subordinates, he figured sympathy was unwarranted.

Treason was a crime, after all.

"Hey, does anybody smell flowers?" He heard one of the random Marines that had been sent to accompany them ask his buddy, but paid it no mind.

He never noticed the eye that watched them from the edge of the corridor's ceiling, and was completely unaware of the woman observing them from buildings away.

Ace realized belatedly, while striding down yet another steel hallway for what felt like the fifteenth time, that he was starving.

Awkward.

But justified. After all, he hadn't eaten since some rations the evening before, and now it was midmorning, or at least, it was last time he saw outside. Why didn't any of these halls have windows, or clocks, or anything besides more metal plating?

And how come he hadn't seen anyone in ages?

Apparently, the administration buildings in this goddess-forsaken hole were actually a very clever disguise for a labyrinth, ingeniously designed to trap wayward intruders. Or all the paper-pushers had just packed up and quit.

At this point, he wasn't sure which situation was more plausible.

But he didn't have time for this nonsensical meandering. Thatch was somewhere in this place and here Ace was, lost beyond belief and entirely separated from Marco and the others. He was starting to wish that they had risked being tapped by the enemy and brought personal transponder snails, because at least then he'd have some kind of way to contact his brothers.

Just then, in some bizarre stroke of luck, as he turned another corner, he found himself in a broader, but still vacated lobby, dotted with cleaning supplies and renovation equipment. More importantly, there was, miraculously, an emergency evacuation map placed on the wall.

Just a productive few minutes later, and Ace found himself in much more frequented halls, making his way down towards the mess, equipped with a janitor's cart and everything. Some troops even waved awkwardly at him as they went by.

Sometimes, the Marines just made stuff like this too easy.

And goddess of the sea, the smell wafting through the air was heavenly. Clearly, somebody in this place needed to quit their dull life of military-paid minimum wage pay checks and take to the free world to become a professional chef. It would be illegal for government workers to eat food that smelled so good, if he could do anything about it. He needed to devour something soon, because his thoughts were starting to derail like they always did when he was running low on blood sugar.

Well, this was probably why taxes were so high. All the people's money was being wasted on fancy meals for rundown bases in the middle of nowhere.

(Why did he care? He didn't even pay taxes.)

He forced down a fond smile, recalling days spent gazing through snow-lined windows in the evening, watching wealthy families casually eating feasts of rich meat and fresh fruit. He would stand there in the cold, wondering if he would someday treat such lavish food so mundanely. When he was famous pirate, his younger self had promised so long ago, he'd never go hungry again.

And neither would Luffy, because he would take care of his baby brother, even when he was feared worldwide and rich.

Well, here he was, stomach and hands both empty, of food and of brothers.

But Marco and the others had to be somewhere, he mentally kicked himself to punctuate the reminder, and they would get Thatch back no matter what.

And maybe someday soon he'd get to see that smile again.

But getting fed came first, so no time for missing what he could still get back. Rescuing took energy after all.

Okay. Yeah. That's chapter 4 done. Another mystery man! Except, this one's probably really, really obvious, 'cause come on. But just what are they up to?

Next chapter the action begins. And things will be going very, very fast from then on. Shit hitting the fan and etc etc.

I didn't really proof-read this chapter super carefully, so there may be some errors. I'll probably come back and fix it up, I'm just so happy to be able to finally update.

EDIT: Did as promised above~~

R&R!