Collision

Smoker snarled at the men training in the yard for their sloppiness and half-hearted attitude, biting down viciously on his cigars. He'd got back this morning after four days at sea; four stressful, irritating days in which he had lost five of his underlings to their own overwhelming and insubordinate stupidity. Dracule Lisska had been a model prisoner, rarely straying from his office except to sleep in his cabin –he'd spent the nights on the couch in the office– and visit the small private bathroom that was one of the few privileges of rank he was prepared to take advantage of. He'd brought her meals, ensuring the cook made twice as much of his own usual fare and shared it with her so as to prevent anyone attempting to poison her. Rebellious and violent though they were, none of his Marines dared even consider poisoning their commanding officer.

The deaths… Smoker was angry about the deaths because Dracule Lisska had committed three of them in defence of Tashigi, placing him in the Artificer's debt. Of the other two, one he had committed himself on deck in full view of the rest of the men so as to beat into their heads how serious he was about real Justice. The other had climbed in through the window to his private cabin on the first night and tried to rape his prisoner, who had blasted the moron into fist-sized chunks and through the door leading to his office in her sleep. He'd been woken by the sound of splintering wood and seen the streak of debris, quivering meat, ruptured organs and shattered bone that was oozing blood across his floor, sighed and gone to order the more loudly insubordinate men currently on night watch to clear up the mess. Seeing him scowling at being woken, arms crossed as he loomed over the heap of cooling flesh while behind him his prisoner grumbled and turned over in her sleep had at least prevented any more late-night attempts on Lisska's life.

The artificer dodged most of the more subtle or casual attempts with ridiculous ease, demonstrating a full and precise understanding of haki of all three kinds. A Marine delivering paperwork who 'accidentally' fumbled his pistol and shot at her was dodged without Lisska even looking up from cannibalising a pair of shirts donated by Tashigi to fit the pregnant woman's more ample frame; Smoker had put the man in the brig for the night and lectured him on weapons' safety, a gleam in his eye making quite clear to the trembling idiot that, had the shot connected, the Commodore would have had him on charges for murder and executed him without turning a hair.

A more cunning idiot had a tray of cannonballs fall on her head during her first and only trip on deck; she'd Hardened her entire body even as the skull-sized iron balls fell towards her and calmly continued her conversation with him even as they bounced off her head, shoulders and back. Smoker had demoted that butterfingered Petty Officer back down to recruit and lambasted him furiously then and there: one of the cannonballs would have hit him if Lisska's sudden change in colouring hadn't alerted him that something was amiss. With the threat of being charged with 'assaulting a superior officer' hanging over them, the remaining fools had resorted to something more sneaky for their third and final attempt.

Smoker had been on deck when a commotion in his office had him dashing onto the scene to find Tashigi sprawled unconscious across the floor between Lisska's feet, her glasses crushed on the other side of the room and two headless bodies slowly collapsing backwards in front of reddish pink smears on the walls. He was just in time to see a third Marine take a swing at Lisska with his ensign's katana; his prisoner had ducked and twisted under the blow in a way he wouldn't have believed possible for a pregnant woman then darted upwards and shoved her glowing palm under his chin. Seeing her power work at close range was utterly nauseating: the Marine's head had literally exploded upwards to paint the idiot's brains across the ceiling. The fourth man had then levered himself off the floor and shoved a pistol under Tashigi's chin, not having noticed Smoker's arrival yet. Lisska had simply turned and looked at the man, who had crumpled to the floor frothing at the mouth, the gun falling from nerveless fingers.

"What just happened here?!" Smoker had snarled as his prisoner stepped sideways and knelt next to his ensign.

"Tashigi opened the door, then there four barged past her, knocking away her glasses," Lisska said calmly, gently probing the dark bruise on his ensign's temple. "She tried to draw her sword on them but they knocked her out. I then blew those two's heads off and got her out of the line of fire, but the one you saw grabbed the sword as I was pulling her away. I dodged the first two swings and got Tashigi down onto the floor, then stabbed the last one with a hairpin; I must have missed the pressure point for him to get up again that quickly." His prisoner made a dissatisfied face at such carelessness. "Then the one with the sword had another go at me and I think you saw the rest."

"You used haki on the last one," Smoker noted neutrally. A very rare kind of haki at that.

"He threatened his senior officer, not me personally," Lisska said calmly, the bruise on his ensign's temple fading away beneath her glowing fingertips. "I believe you Marines have rules about that."

Smoker hadn't been able to say anything more to her as Tashigi woke up at that point and apologised profusely for her part in the debacle, but the entire incident had left a sour taste in his mouth even after he had executed the surviving moron the next morning at dawn. He had failed to keep his word: his prisoner had done a better job of protecting herself than he had. She hadn't called him on it, not even when he apologised for failing to keep his promise, instead saying that he could not be held responsible for those who deliberately disobeyed him. He privately disagreed, but hadn't said so: they were his men, so all of their actions were his responsibility.

He didn't think his prisoner cared much for Justice, but she certainly had Honour, which was more than enough for him considering. However he owed her for protecting Tashigi and he hated to owe, especially someone as hard to pin down as Dracule Lisska.

The first thing Smoker had done on returning to G-5 was escort his prisoner to his private rooms and lock her in with Tashigi; the second thing he'd done was report directly to Headquarters the events that had led to him taking the Shichibukai's daughter into protective custody. The man on the other end had been incredibly helpful and efficient as soon as the Commodore uttered the name 'Dracule', redirecting his call to Vice-Admiral Momonga who listened attentively, did not ask pointless questions and informed him that the World's Strongest Swordsman would be joining him at G-5 the next morning.

Momonga also informed him that the Marine base on Spinoza Island had burned down three days previously with no casualties, though a great many Marines had suffered minor burns and other injuries from falling debris and Commodore Henken was afflicted what looked like torture wounds from something very, very hot that had put out one of his eyes, destroyed his dominant hand and castrated him, among other, lesser things. The perpetrator had apparently introduced himself as 'Spadille', was clearly some kind of fire Logia and had invaded the infirmary and politely inquired after Smoker's prisoner, claiming to be her bodyguard. Smoker confirmed it, was informed that Hawk-Eyes had also confirmed it and was requested to allow the man full access to Dracule Lisska when he inevitably arrived. Momonga also thanked the commodore for the information regarding the nature of the incident on Smokestack Island; apparently four ships and over eight hundred pirates had died there, nothing left of some of them except ashen silhouettes on bleached stone walls. The Vice-Admiral added that the Shichibukai had referred to Spadille as 'barely competent, but dedicated' which, coupled with the information provided, painted a disturbing picture of the unknown man's skills. Competent from a man of Hawk-Eyes calibre, even if barely so, was a considerable endorsement, never mind that the swordsman was a pirate. For Dracule Mihawk to call Spadille 'dedicated'… Smoker suspected 'utterly focussed and completely unstoppable' was a more realistic description. Not having a bounty despite being that strong suggested the man wasn't a pirate, or at least wasn't a pirate yet. The way Lisska had said that her father 'acquired' Spadille suggested there was more to the bodyguard's relationship with the Shichibukai than what was immediately apparent.

In a truly terrible temper after finishing the call Smoker had called all his men into the yard and assigned them extra training and chores, personally overseeing them and making sure nobody dared slack off.

Several hours later Smoker was catching up with the paperwork in his office when Tashigi's startled shriek from the next room had him barging in to see what the problem was. He found Tashigi clutching her sword and staring in shock as a tall, broad-shouldered man in a top hat swung inside the open window –on the tenth floor!– and dropped to his knees next to where Dracule Lisska was sprawled across the couch.

"Precious!" the man said intensely, wrapping his arms around the pregnant woman and pulling her close. "Thank God, Precious, I was so worried-"

Lisska patted the man who could only be Spadille on the shoulder. "Hey, I'm safe and you got here before my father did. Emergency over."

"Bar the inevitable shouting," Spadille muttered ruefully, letting go of the pregnant woman and turning to face Smoker. To the Commodore's surprise the massively built man knelt and touched his head to the floor. "Commodore Smoker, you have my gratitude for securing the wellbeing of my charge in my absence."

"I was doing my job," Smoker said gruffly, not sure how to take this. "No thanks necessary."

The man rose, planted his feet firmly and grinned, fists on his hips. "A competent, honest Marine officer in the New World; who'd have thought it. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Smoker stared, suddenly hit by a thunderbolt of memory. That build, that stance, that grin, that voice… hell, that nose! "What's your name?"

"Spadille."

"No," Smoker's teeth clenched over his cigar, "your full name." He knew he was right!

Spadille paused and then laughed out loud, tipping his hat back to give the White Hunter a good look at his face. "Rahahahaha! Very well, Commodore Smoker: my full name is Edward D. Spadille and it really is a pleasure to meet someone of your calibre."

Edward D. Spadille.

Edward D. Spadille.

Edward D. Spadille.

Whitebeard had a child of his own blood and that child was a D; this man was the son of an incredible powerful Yonko and was clearly just starting to grow into his full potential. And he stood firmly under the protection of one of the Shichibukai.

Damnation!

Smoker deals with his new and still troublesome subordinates defying him, then meets Spadille and spots something upsetting. It really isn't his day.