Sidestory 4: Opportunist
Really, Laffitte mused to himself as he wove his way out from the room full of sleeping bodies, If this weren't such a critical task for the captain's plan, it'd be almost boring.
This particular crew of pirates, Amicable or whatever they were called, was an incredible disappointment. Oh, they were well-equipped for a mid-level crew on the Grand Line. A decently sized armory with some good variety, mostly geared towards live capture. A solid-looking ship with what looked like submersible capabilities (not that those were in play now, not after he hypnotized the night crew). Everything looked well-maintained, and the crew was composed of hardened, experienced pirates led by a physically intimidating first mate.
No, the disappointment was all directed towards the captain in charge of it all. Whatever-his-name-was in charge had a Devil Fruit power based on nets of some kind; Laffitte's scouting had confirmed that much. But otherwise, the man was lazy, uncreative, and completely reliant on his abilities. And worst of all, he ruled his crew with an iron fist backed by fear!
But needs must, he supposed as he slipped back onto the open deck. None of the sentries reacted to his presence, going about their business exactly as he'd told them to. These Amicable Pirates really needed to beef up their night watch. Not that they were alone in that, Laffitte chuckled internally. Several other crews, including at least one up-and-comer full of powerful young killers, had failed to learn the same lesson until after he'd finished hypnotizing their sleeping captains. At this rate, he'd reach the critical mass Plan C had called for within the month, if not sooner.
The one thing that made him hesitate to simply depart now was what he had read in the captain's journal. He had almost discarded it out of turn at seeing the melodramatic elegies for the crew's victims, with half of the book in another language besides. But the name he had read on one of the most recent entries, and the scant details around it…
One of the legends from Roger's era, the only man who had ever escaped from Impel Down to date, had been silent for twenty years and had spent that whole time planning and preparing. Now, he was recruiting an army, with these pirates under consideration, which was something he could exploit—
"Oi."
But that was when he realized he was no longer alone on the deck. The new voice came out with a low growl from behind him, and Laffitte swore, leaping back and whirling around to see a figure clean out of the history books. He was older, a little more unkempt, but the wheel sticking out of his head and the swords replacing his legs made his identity unmistakable.
"Here I was, hoping I could get an early start on hearing from my newest recruits," Shiki the Golden Lion intoned, hovering before him with crossed arms. "And what do I find but some thief in the night, trying to make a little getaway? Explain yourself, or I'll string you up and let these pirates decide what to do with you."
"The esteemed Shiki 'the Golden Lion,'" Lafitte simpered, tipping his hat and hiding his unease behind the same calm and carefree mask he'd worn to Marineford. "I've heard much of your exploits from my captain; you are truly a pirate all others should aspire to be. But I'm curious that you see enough potential in this crew to justify a personal visit."
Shiki stared momentarily before lighting the cigar in his mouth, the fire illuminating his grin.
"Cheeky," the veteran pirate remarked as he exhaled the smoke. "I suppose you're not wrong. With how much that upstart brat and his pets have been making waves, I've been taking extra care that none of those I deem worthy are prone to embarrass me. And your very presence here inspires little confidence." He paused, one hand rubbing along his chin. "Hmm. I recognize you now. The 'Hypnotist Sheriff.' Your captain clashed with Newgate's brat and wound up in Impel Down for his trouble."
"You know better than anyone that no cell is secure enough to restrain true ambition," Lafitte said, doing his best to showcase a confident grin. "And that at times you may need to sacrifice time and comfort to ensure you reach it."
The Golden Lion blinked before grinning right back at him. "Jihahahahaha. Bold and cunning, I suppose; he will have my respect if he can pull it off. But where does that leave you?"
Lafitte hesitated briefly. This was a deadly risk. But however many things were still going according to one of his captain's plans, these were still desperate times.
"The same as you: looking for potential recruits to my captain's cause. And in that way, perhaps I can be of assistance to you."
"Oh?" The elder pirate raised a brow, grin unchanging, but Laffitte did his best to hide a flinch as the feeling of danger increased. "Tell me."
-o-
"And that's the last of them," Captain Gantos huffed as he dragged the unconscious, chained-up pirate over to the others. "All twenty-three members of the Red Gardeners Crew present and accounted for, including their captain, 'Bloody Harvest' Greaves."
"Good." Momonga nodded. "Dismissed. Ensign Uanav, make sure this scum gets locked away for the journey to Impel Down." The ensign, a monocled new recruit he'd recently gotten assigned to him, saluted sharply and left without a word.
A strange one, this Reg Uanav, with his slim build and an odd, if steadfast, fixation on fate. Though given the burn scars he'd shown off on his right arm, allegedly the results of surviving a lightning strike, his reasoning made more sense than most. And frankly, with his almost unnatural talent for marksmanship, the man could believe whatever he wanted as long as he used his skills for the sake of justice.
"This is the third crew in two weeks," Momonga commented to Gantos. "The promotion of the newest Warlord has done little to calm the seas."
The captain scoffed. "It's not the kid's strength or that of his crew that's causing all this," he said. "Not directly, anyway. These bastards hear the stories in the news about how the kid and Smoker were able to storm Enies and how that duel with the dragon could match several warships, and they start thinking the Marines have lost their touch."
Undoubtedly, the events at Enies Lobby were very easy to paint in an unflattering light. Regardless of the true motivation, the Government giving itself a black eye was always followed by increased piracy.
"Hmph. Indeed…" Momonga mused before shaking his head. "Regardless, this upswing in pirate activity has ensured that even more of these scum are behind bars where they belong." In that way, the Pokémon Champion's actions were even more of a boon in the long run, regardless of the short-term consequences the Enies Lobby incident had brought.
His second-in-command looked amused. "Are you thinking of the kid again, Vice-Admiral?" he asked knowingly.
Momonga's lips curled upwards. "It seems," he said with no small amusement, "that our debt to him only seems to grow." A not-insignificant debt, either, seeing as it was through the boy's actions, and those of Commodore Smoker, that Momonga had not ordered the deaths of far too many innocent Marines. "The next time we meet, I plan to rectify that." While far from slouches, the Warlord's companions likely still had much to learn about facing humanoid swordsmen. It would only be right for him to volunteer his services the next time they crossed paths.
-o-
None of the figures in the laboratory were surprised by the appearance of one of the most powerful men in the world. In fact, based on the refreshments on the table nearby, it seemed like he was expected, even though he'd appeared out of thin air in a flash of light.
"Admiral." The largest of them, a round robot with a wind-up key sticking out of his head, nodded curtly in his direction before turning its attention back toward the data-laden screens it had been studying.
"Oooh, such a formal welcome," Borsalino, more widely known as Admiral Kizaru, drawled lazily as he took in the sight before him. A dizzying array of computer consoles and screens lined the far wall (and all the adjacent ones, and even the ceiling), with laboratory equipment squeezed in wherever there was a free square inch of space. Despite the frankly cramped conditions, the six researchers navigated the room with ludicrous ease, slipping past and around each other like they shared the same mind.
Granted, they did, but the ease of movement spoke of years of experience and familiarity.
It was an impressive amount of data, to be sure, and even after being… friendly acquaintances, let's say, with the genius for several years, Kizaru still had trouble making heads or tails of it. One notable absence, though, did catch his attention.
"No York?" he asked. "I'd have thought you would have all hands on deck for something you made so much fuss about."
"The excitement of it all wore us all out," Shaka explained tersely. "She is currently sleeping our exhaustion off."
Kizaru shrugged. One more or less made no difference to him, really. "I had hoped to pass on a message to our dear mutual friend, the Tyrant."
Vegapunk and all five of the Satellites present went still.
"You know, the Elder Stars weren't too pleased about Bartholomew's actions," Kizaru continued, blissfully ignoring the tension radiating off Vegapunk's body. "Keeping the boy in the public eye like this has thrown quite the damper on their original plan, you see. Can't have one of the Navy's own Warlords vanishing into thin air, now can we?"
Lilith snorted in a very unladylike manner. "Like the old bastards' displeasure means shit. They're already having us hollow his damned head out. What're they gonna do, make us erase memories he won't have?"
"Lilith!" Shaka interrupted sharply. "Enough." The other Satellite glared, but quieted.
"Bartholomew Kuma is currently resting in preparation for the next stage of implantation," he continued as he turned back to Kizaru. "He is not to be disturbed, or else his elevated stress levels will increase the chances of rejection."
That explanation reeked of Sea King shit, and Kizaru wasn't even a scientist. But if Vegapunk was committed enough to lie to his face, then it was probably more trouble than it was worth to force his way in. "Oh, very well," Kizaru sighed, pretending to ignore the soft whirring beneath his feet that indicated the powering-down of some truly unnecessary devices. "Then you will pass on the rebuke in my stead, of course?"
"Of course," Vegapunk himself nodded. "Now, I believe you were here to receive an update on the project." The scientist typed a few commands into the console, and a large, rotating image of a double helix appeared onscreen.
"This is the lineage factor we have extracted from the samples you provided," Pythagoras explained, his droopy, tired-looking expression belying the excitement in his voice. "And I must say it's incredibly fascinating, even more so than the Lunarian sample!"
"Actually cloning a specimen posed little issue," Edison piped up, "Though the viability of the cloned specimens was… Quite poor."
Lilith rolled her eyes. "He means they all died within a few days," she said bluntly. "And trying to clone that psychic one in particular was a major pain in the ass." A few typed commands pulled up a large screen, showing a busted tank and several other destroyed bits of surrounding machinery. "By the way, you'd better get us an actual physiological guide to these things, 'cause what we were getting didn't look much like what the kid's got. Didn't expect to have some baby-looking green-topped brat screaming in our heads, that's for sure."
"In other words," Shaka interjected, "It seems that the abilities of these Pokémon are active starting from birth, and the Lady Devil's species, in particular, gains awareness incredibly quickly." He gestured to the destroyed equipment onscreen. "The results of which I'm sure you can see for yourself."
"Additionally, it seems that the Lineage Factor of Pokémon will violently reject any others that we have attempted to splice with it." Vegapunk himself added. "Attempts to use Green Blood, Lunarian lineage factor, fishman biology, even samples from other Pokémon have all resulted in the test subjects expiring from severe organ failure."
"Ooooh…" Kizaru drawled, "That's disappointing." It looked like the Elder Stars' S-Project would have to suffer the loss on this one, at least for now. The potential boosts in power and versatility weren't worth much when you were too dead to use them.
Though that does raise a question or two. "Then if the original project's goal isn't viable, and neither is cloning," he said, "What good are these samples, hm? Your orders were very explicit on finding a use for the Government." Vegapunk's projects had ended in failure before. It was incredibly rare, but it had happened. But every time, the genius had been upfront about how and why a goal wasn't achieved, and the Elder Stars had received no such message yet.
"Well," Vegapunk said, "I wouldn't say they're no good. I did mention that the Pokémon lineage factor was very easily cloned, yes? In practice, it means we have a near-limitless supply of it."
"And," Lilith interjected with a meaningful glance at the skeletal metal frame hanging off of a nearby hook, "Even if we haven't been able to harness its powers using organic methods, there's still those nifty little 'peacekeeping' death robots that are almost ready to go, aren't there?"
"Ohh," Kizaru said, eyebrows raised in genuine interest. "So, you're recreating them with metal?"
"That's the current plan," Shaka said. "We won't report failure until we've tried everything, of course, and the preliminary bindings have been promising."
"I see." Kizaru didn't stretch so much as shrug as he began making his way out. "Well, that's everything I needed to handle." He paused as something else came to mind. "Oh, wait. You have a name picked out for this project?" He couldn't exactly go to the Elder Stars with nothing more than a vague description, after all.
"Nothing is final yet, and each one will be different. But for the Lady Devil's, with that fighting spirit the boy has shown? We're thinking of something along the lines of 'Iron Valiant.'"
Full disclosure: I had not intended for those samples to be used in the Seraphim project, but you guys took the idea and ran with it. I'm more partial to the cybernetic crime against nature myself, but hey Lucas's DNA isn't as… picky, let's say, as a Pokémon's, so who knows what'll happen?