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Chapter Text

“Who the fuck even are you?! ”

Ace stares with incredulity at the woman who had saved his life not once, but twice, nearly ready to tear his hair out. 

Taking a sip of her tea (and he doesn’t know where that came from, all he knows is he turned around and suddenly she had a cup), she takes a moment before responding. “The top and only PR Officer of the Marines. Likely former, after the stunt I pulled today.” 

Up above him, leaning heavily in his chair and already being fussed over by the nurses, Oyaji strokes his moustache as he eyes her with mild suspicion, masked strongly by the overwhelming curiosity. “I cannot help but notice that you have neglected to share your name, young lady.” 

“Not exactly young, I’ve been doing this for decades now. As for the matter of my name, it’s of no importance and would gain you no insight as to my motives, since I imagine that’s what you’re truly attempting to figure out.” She goes to have another sip of her tea, frowning as she realises it’s all gone. “Oh, I’ve run out already. That was fast.” 

Decades? She doesn’t look to be any older than her early twenties, if he had to guess. Perhaps 25 at most. Ace knows it can be hard to tell how old a woman is sometimes, but surely she couldn’t be that much older than she looks. 

But the more he thinks about it, the more he realises, they really don’t know anything about this woman. She saved him and Luffy, and brought Crocodile along for the ride for some godforsaken reason, but what do they know about her? Why did she feel the need to step in, not once but twice back at Marineford? Why did she know all of those secrets she’d broadcasted, and why did she choose to spill them at all? Did it have something to do with her job as a… PR Officer, whatever that was? Maybe this was all a big trick by the World Government, and she was planning on killing them as soon as they let their guards down. 

He can’t allow a spy to infiltrate, especially not while Luffy is on board and vulnerable. Whatever he did back in Impel Down knocked him out quick the second they set foot on the Moby Dick. 

(It’s Ace’s fault that Luffy is in this situation to begin with. If not for his capture, the loyal little idiot never would have gone to Impel Down and – if Crocodile is to be believed – fought Magellan. The least Ace can do is protect and stay with him until he recovers.) 

(He still doesn’t actually know why Crocodile is here. For all Ace knows, he’s a Marine agent, too)

“What are your motives for assisting in Ace’s rescue?” Oyaji questions, eyes hard as he watches her frown at her cup. “And for that matter, why did you ask to board my ship and leave Marineford with my crew? What do you hope to gain from this?” 

Setting her cup down on a nearby table, she looks up at Oyaji, folding her arms behind her back and falling into a professional stance. “As I said, my plans are my own, but truth be told, I don’t actually have any stake in the life of Portgas D Ace. He just happened to be there at the right time, and I’ve never liked the idea of killing someone because of who their family is, so I decided to intervene. Besides, you were far more likely to allow me safe passage on board your ship if I brought your rescued son along with my request.” 

Oyaji raises an eyebrow. “You seem to be quite the conniving young woman.” 

“Once again, not exactly young, though the conniving part would be correct.” 

“And why exactly did you feel you needed safe passage upon the Moby Dick? What is your business aboard my ship in particular?” 

“Nothing much. It could have been any ship. I only picked yours because it had the lowest chance of the Marines catching me after the stunt I pulled at Marineford.” 

“Yes, I suppose that’s true, but if it put you in so much danger, why did you decide to take that risk in the first place?” Oyaji’s brow furrows as he leans down, eyeing the woman with some confusion. “You don’t seem the type to take unnecessary actions, so what drove you to do such a thing?” 

She smiles, and it’s then that Ace realises that this is the strongest emotion he’s seen her display so far. It’s not quite happiness, no – if anything, she seems a little unnerving now that she’s baring her teeth. “Oh, that’s easy! It’s because I despise the Marines as an organisation and I've spent my entire career doing everything in my power to gather enough evidence to one day take them out of the equation entirely.” 

The whole deck falls silent at that declaration, and Ace feels the group of brothers that have surrounded him start to shift uncomfortably. It’s not as though he doesn’t know why they’re suddenly nervous – nobody ever decides to do something so frightfully intense without a very, very good reason, and considering how far she’s apparently gone to achieve that goal… well. Ace fears for the lives of whatever poor bastards happen to get between that woman and her prey. 

“Your plan is to… what, take the Marines out entirely?” Someone asks from behind Ace. He’s pretty sure it was Jozu, by the sounds of it. “Plenty of people have tried and failed, so what–” 

But he cuts himself off as a large shadow crosses overhead, turning everyone’s heads toward the sky to see Marco in his phoenix form, making his way over to land on the arm of Oyaji’s chair. With a full-body shake, he transforms back into his human form, placing one hand on the back of the chair for balance and looking around to make sure that all of his brothers are present and accounted for. They may have lost a few of their number, but overall, the casualty count was surprisingly low for such a high-stakes war, and Ace strongly suspects that it was that Officer’s fault. 

(He still can’t help the twinge of guilt he feels at the knowledge that everyone on this ship could’ve died for him . Ace was too weak to keep himself from getting captured by Kurohige of all people, and that reckless stupidity put his entire crew in danger. It put Luffy in danger. That, of all things, is unacceptable.) 

Up on Oyaji’s chair, Marco nods in satisfaction as he sees that everyone seems to be here and that those who need medical attention are receiving it – excepting Ace himself, that is, who probably should be but who also really doesn’t want to miss the show with this Marine lady.  Turning to Oyaji, Marco opens his mouth to speak, but something catches his eye as he turns his head and he freezes entirely. 

It’s that Marine again. She’s staring right back, but judging by what he’s seen so far, she sort of just… does that. If she’s looking at something, really looking , she stares at it with the intensity of a thousand suns. No wonder she never misses any details. 

Marco lets out a strangled sound of shock, pointing to the woman with the face of someone who's just seen a bloodied ghost. “Weren’t you dead?! ” 

Her brows furrow and she tilts her head, clearly confused. “What would give you the idea that I’m dead?” 

“Son, do you know her?” Oyaji asks, turning to Marco, who nods shakily. 

“We’ve met,” he replies evasively. “Over fifty years ago, that is.” 

They what.  

“Indeed. You look much the same, Fushichou Marco-san.” 

“I could say the same for you, but I have the excuse of an Akuma no Mi, yoi. There’s no way that you should still look twenty-five right now when I know you’re at least in your sixties.” 

“Seventies. And yes, you’re correct. I look the same because of your Akuma no Mi, as a matter of fact. I did mention at Marineford that the higher-ups were involved in some rather unsavoury scientific pursuits, didn’t I?” 

Is she suggesting that they experimented on her? And with Marco’s Akuma no Mi, at that. Ace doesn’t know how it’s possible, but this whole conversation is giving him a headache. Apparently, the Marine (former Marine, really) is in her seventies, and doesn’t age due to experiments with the phoenix fruit. What else has she been involved in? What else does she know? 

Considering the fact that Marco clearly recognised her, and considering his fruit’s involvement… it’s highly possible that this happened after Marco had eaten his Akuma no Mi. Was Marco working with the Marines voluntarily, or was he captured? Clearly, he held no love for the organisation now, but Ace can never be certain of what was in someone’s past. 

(They still haven’t talked about his past yet. Ace knows that they’re all aware of it now, after the Officer had spilled all his secrets before Sengoku had the chance to, but no one has said a word about it. 

Ace doesn’t want to be the one to remind them that he’s the son of a devil. Just for a little longer, he’d like to relish in the feeling of having a loving family before it all gets taken away because of his accursed blood and he has to be all alone again.) 

“I didn’t hear much of what you were saying,” Marco notes, “but judging by the fact that you’re on our ship and sitting on the deck amongst our brothers, I’d assume that none of it was very Marine-friendly, yoi.”

“You assume correctly, I brought a file with me of all the worst things I could think of that the Marines had done, and I was planning on broadcasting as much of it as I could before I had to leave for the benefit of my own health and safety.” Reaching into her messenger bag, she pulls out the thick file that Ace remembers seeing her with up on the platform, opening it and pulling out the papers within to organise them in three stacks on the deck before her. “These are the events I already covered, these are the ones that I plan of having News Morgan air in his prints, and these are the ones I'd rather expose myself due to their complicated nature.” 

“News Morgan?” Oyaji questions. “Then you plan to take this further?” 

She smiles, even more unnerving and pleased than before. “Oh, absolutely. I don’t intend to stop until I’ve gotten what I want.” 

And apparently, what she wants is the destruction of the Marines as a whole. Lovely. 

Yeah, Ace is fucking terrified of what will happen when she’s done with her crusade against the Marines and decides that she needs a new target. Either she’s going for the pirates or the Celestials, and he’s really hoping it’s the second. He’s not sure if even the Yonkou crews could hold up against her sheer tenacity. 

oOoOo

Her plan thus far is going perfectly. 

She escaped Marineford intact and managed to save both Portgas D Ace and Edward Newgate in the process, which is already more than she was hoping for. Not only that, but the broadcast stayed live the entire time she was speaking, meaning that the whole world heard every word of her speech. 

Crocodile had been a bit of a surprise, a joker card thrown in the deck, but he’d proved to be quite helpful, even if she knows for a fact that he doesn’t trust her as far as she could throw him. Seeing Marco again, on the other hand, hadn’t been as much of a surprise – no, the surprise was that he had recognised her on sight. She’d assumed that it had been long enough that he wouldn’t make the connection so quickly, and even if he did, she was somewhat counting on him second-guessing the assumption. 

It’s been decades since she’s last seen him in person – though, it’s been decades since she’s last seen a lot of people in person. It’s no big secret that the PR Officer of the Marines is never seen in public, to the point that most people don’t even know she exists. Sengoku had recognised her at Marineford, but she’d been counting on the fact that no one else would. She needs to be a wild card, a wrench thrown into the works. 

But the last time she’d seen Marco… well. The Marines always had been a little too good at meddling in things that ought not be meddled with, and the phoenix Akuma no Mi was one such thing. Marco had been young then, fruit only just acquired, and he hadn’t yet been familiar enough with its powers to keep himself from getting captured. It hadn’t been her first taste of the Marines’ cruelty, but it had been the worst she’d seen personally at that point. After all, the PR Department’s job was to clean up the messes, not watch them happen. 

She takes a sip of her tea, relishing in the familiar spiced flavour. She’s fairly certain that this is her fourth or fifth cup now, but after such a stressful day, she would argue that she deserves a little treat.  

“Still refusing to share your name?” 

Looking up from her cup, she finds herself meeting Marco’s sceptical gaze, one she returns with full intensity. “I haven’t a name to give you, I’m afraid.” 

He tuts. “What exactly do you expect us to call you, then? You could always just pick something, yoi.” 

“I would rather not.” 

The pair fall silent for a few moments before Marco responds with a sigh. “You know, I don’t believe that you stepped in purely for your own sake.” 

She says nothing, only raising an eyebrow. 

“If you had only helped Ace because you wanted to use him as a bargaining chip,” he continues, “then you wouldn’t have sent him off towards Oyaji on his own, yoi. You would have dragged him along with you during that broadcast.” 

“I see you’ve been figuring out everything you missed during Marineford from your brothers.” 

“Yes, I have, and it’s clearer and clearer that you weren’t doing this for selfish reasons alone. I think you wanted to help Ace and Luffy.” 

“Oh?” 

“Once again – if your only reason for stepping in was to gain negotiating grounds with Oyaji, you could have just dragged Ace off the second you got your hands on him. But not only did you try to send him away on his own, you also saved Luffy when you had the opportunity to do so, yoi.” 

“Perhaps I had my own reasons for doing that. Sending Ace to Shirohige-san on his own would mean that Ace could back me up and explain how I helped him, even if we arrived separately, and as for Mugiwara, you know Ace never would have left that battlefield if his younger brother hadn’t been right next to him. There are plenty of selfish reasons why I did what I did.” 

“Yes, but those weren’t your reasons, yoi. They were your excuses to attempt to distance yourself, but they weren’t the real reasons behind your actions.” 

He’s looking a little too closely at her. She doesn’t like it. “Then perhaps I had more than one reason.” 

Marco leans back, settling himself against the railing as he turns his face skyward. “Perhaps you did, yoi.” 

A few moments pass by as she once again drains her cup, face falling into a slight frown as she looks down at the place where there should be tea and there now isn’t. Disappointing, but unsurprising. A minute later, however, her head snaps up at the sound of something moving in the water over the side of the ship. Something big . 

oOoOo

Sabo has been having a really weird… well, life, to put it shortly. This week in particular was just the latest example in a long, long line of incredibly bizarre experiences. 

Something happened at Marineford, something that he doesn’t think was orchestrated by any of the three major players – neither the Marines nor the Revolutionaries had a hand in this, and he’s positive that the pirates expected it no more than the other two. However, that begs the question: if this wasn’t them, then who was it? 

The woman had come out of nowhere, by the looks of it, but she’d apparently had enough pull to make even Sengoku follow her commands. The Pacifistas had listened to her above the orders of the Fleet Admiral (and wasn’t that a lovely shock, seeing the face of one of his friends used for the likeness of a mindless mechanical soldier), not to mention how she’d managed to get Akainu to stand down by simply… telling him to. Akainu is notoriously difficult to control, especially when he feels that someone is encroaching upon his ideal of ‘justice’, but he’d listened to her. He’d allowed Shirohige and his entire crew to walk off of that battlefield with no further trouble. 

Just what kind of pull does this woman have, and how does Sabo get her on their side? 

And of course, having wondered the same thing himself, that was exactly what Dragon had sent Sabo here to find out. As the Chief of Staff for the Revolutionary Army, Sabo is high enough on the chain of command that it wouldn’t seem like a slight to send him as an envoy to meet such a powerful player, but he’s also not the leader, meaning that he’s slightly less at risk in this scenario. 

Besides, he’s strong enough to defend himself if need be, so he doubts there will be any problems in that regard. He hadn’t seen the woman fight during the live showing of the Marineford debacle, but his Haki is incredibly powerful, even at such a young age. 

A Dragon Claw to the skull is always a possibility if things start to get too messy. He thinks Koala might actually kill him if he does that, though, so it’s only a last resort for the moment. 

Looking up at the vast form of the Moby Dick, illuminated from behind by the slowly setting sun, Sabo grins. Whatever happens during these negotiations, at least it will be more fun than being trapped in the office with a pile of paperwork bigger than himself (and no, Koala, he’s positive that it would still be this big even if he turned in his reports on time, it’s not his fault that people like to bother him with stupidly mundane problems). 

Hopping up onto the rail of his own ship, he knocks against the hull a few times, hoping to catch someone’s attention. “Hello? Anyone up there?” 

A head pokes over the side, and to his surprise, it’s someone he recognises – Fushichou Marco, the first mate of the Shirohige Pirates. Sabo recognises a lot of people, of course, he’s just usually terrible at remembering their names. “Who are you and what’s your business on our ship, yoi?” 

“Revolutionary Envoy,” Sabo calls up. “I’m afraid I can’t share my name with you for safety reasons, but I’m here to speak to the woman seen at Marineford who boarded your ship. May I have permission to board?” 

“I suppose so, yoi. Amir, bring the rope ladder over from the storeroom, would you?” 

“Will do!” 

Sabo doesn’t recognise that voice, so he’s assuming it’s Amir, whoever that is. Most likely a random crew member. He waits a few minutes before something comes tumbling down from above – the end of the aforementioned rope ladder. 

Clambering up the wooden steps of the rope ladder, Sabo finds himself at the top in a matter of moments, swinging himself over the side to land gracefully on his feet. He takes a moment to dust off his pants and straighten his coat before looking up and giving Marco a small, polite bow. No need to be rude to a gracious host, after all. 

“My apologies for the intrusion, I promise you that I don’t intend to cause any trouble here. I only wish to speak to–” 

“Me, I presume?” 

A voice sounds from behind him, and he whips around. It takes a moment for Sabo to figure out exactly where he knows that voice and face from, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hat’s brim as soon as he makes the connection. “You’re the woman from Marineford?” 

She nods. “I am indeed. Do you know, there are two young men inside this ship who would be utterly ecstatic to see you alive and intact rather than blown to bits?”
  

Sabo furrows his brow at that, somewhat confused. “Pardon?” 

Was it meant to be a threat? It didn’t sound like a threat. More like she knows something he doesn’t – which, considering her stunt at Marineford, is very likely – and is simply informing him in a very casual way. But… what could she possibly know. 

“The Revolutionary Sabo, Chief of Staff and biological son of two nobles from the Goa Kingdom, though I believe you disowned yourself in order to forge a brotherhood with two others. Both of them are on this ship right now and have believed you to be dead for the past ten years. Though, you wouldn’t be aware of them, as I believe you’ve had amnesia for the past decade as well. Correct?” 

He nods numbly, mind reeling. What the hell is this all about? He wants to tell her she’s wrong, she’s making this up, but– 

But. 

None of that seems like a lie. Not a single word of what she said actually rang false in his mind. 

Beside her, Marco is starting to look somewhat concerned, but he doesn’t interrupt. Smart man. 

“Allow me to ask you a question, Sabo-san,” she says, placing her teacup on the railing. How long has she been holding that? He didn’t even notice it before. “Do the names Gol D Ace or Monkey D Luffy mean anything to you?” 

Marco sucks in a sharp breath at that, but Sabo can barely hear him. His head is pounding, brain feeling scrambled and shaken from the ache in his skull. He knows those names. He knows those names.  

“He prefers Portgas,” he murmurs, feeling very much like his coherence is getting eaten up by a terrible fog. 

She smiles. “I know. But the fact that you corrected me means that you know, too. Would you like to see your brothers again, Sabo-san?” 

“Y-yes. Yes, I need– where are they? Please, I do-on’t–” 

“Marco-san?” 

“Already on it,” Marco replies, turning on his heel and dashing off to go… find Ace and Luffy, he guesses. The woman watches him go with a rather satisfied expression. 

Sabo leans up against the railing, pressing the heel of his palm into his temple. “My head is killing me… ” 

“You’ll feel better after you pass out,” the woman says matter-of-factly. “Just wait.” 

“What?” 

But a moment later (or perhaps a few moments, he’s not feeling too good at comprehending the passage of time right now, or anything else for that matter), Marco returns from wherever he went, followed by two black-haired strangers. One is taller than the other and both are bandaged heavily, the taller one supporting the shorter one as they make their way over. Both of their eyes widen as they catch sight of Sabo, and he feels his own do the same. 

They’re not strangers. He knows those two. They’re– 

“My brothers,” he whispers, and it’s the last thing that goes through his head before he slips from the railing, crumpling into a heap on the deck. 

(Well, that’s a bit of a lie. The real last thing that goes through his head as his eyes close is ‘goddamnit, that lady was right’. ) 

oOoOo

Well, she wasn’t quite expecting that to happen. It does make things a bit more convenient for her, though. 

If Sabo credits her as the one who reunited him with his brothers and jogged his memory, she’s going to have far more pull among the revolutionaries than if she had just walked up to their base as the supposed ‘traitor’ from Marineford. Despite the information she has to offer, it’s far more credible if she already has the trust and support of one of their highest-ranking members besides Dragon himself. 

Marineford is dealt with, Ace is dealt with, Sabo is dealt with, she muses, going down her list of priorities with a meticulous hand. Law may want an apology for my involvement in the cover-up of the Flevance Massacre, but I’m sure he’ll understand if he realises my hand in his first mate’s survival. Shirohige is his own problem now, since he’s no longer dead as a result of the Marineford debacle. Luffy… will have to be convinced to follow the pattern of the two-year timeskip. If I can prove that his crew is safe, though, he’ll be a lot more likely to agree to whatever I request of him.  

Beside her, Marco seems to be freaking out over the fact that their Revolutionary guest just collapsed, and Ace and Luffy are, of course, understandably shell-shocked by the reveal that their dead brother is in fact alive and unconscious right in front of them. That won’t be a fun thing to explain. 

“Did you do something to him? What did you do?” Ace demands, jabbing a finger at her while still holding onto Luffy with his other arm. “What the hell is this?!” 

“Well, that is your brother, and that is the Revolutionary ship that he arrived on, and that is the head wound that gave him a traumatic brain injury, resulting in him suffering from amnesia for the past ten years,” she says shortly, pointing to Sabo, the ship over the rail, and finally, his burn scar. Ace pales as he leans in to get a better look at the scarred-over wound, clutching Luffy tighter. “Any other questions?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, but I do believe that I need to have a look at that ship of his, so I’ll leave you to deal with your family matters.” 

She hops over the side of the rail without another word, landing lightly on the deck of the Revolutionary ship just in time to hear everyone back up on the Moby Dick start yelling. It’s a good thing she got out of there when she did, then. She’s not a fan of the yelling. 

As soon as she touches down, the door to the cabin slams open, revealing a young woman with an orange pixie cut and a steampunk ensemble.  “Sabo, I swear to fuck–” 

But she cuts herself off just as quickly as she’d entered, face going pallid at the sight of a stranger. 

“If you’re looking for your Chief of Staff, he’s up on the deck, likely on his way to the infirmary by now,” she says helpfully, pointing up above. “He’s largely uninjured except for the collapse.” 

“The what?! ” Koala shrieks. “Who the hell are you and what did you do to Sabo?” 

“I’m the Public Relations Officer of the Marines, likely former after the Marineford debacle, and I haven’t harmed him, if that’s what you’re asking,” she explains, raising an eyebrow. “He collapsed due to his brain being unable to handle all of his memories attempting to recover themselves when confronted with all of the pieces of his past that he wasn’t able to remember. His brothers are currently handling that, though, so I doubt there’s too much reason for concern.” 

“His brothers? Just what the hell happened up there?” Koala scrunches her nose, looking confused for a moment before something clicks. “Public Relations… you’re the PR Officer. You’re the woman we came here to speak with, aren’t you?” 

“I am indeed. Luckily, a meeting would be beneficial to both of us, seeing as how I’m fairly certain that we both desire the destruction of the Marines and all of their disgusting hypocrisy.” 

“O… kay, we’ll unpack that later. Where did you say Sabo was?” 

“Infirmary, most likely. Fushichou Marco would be able to take you there.” 

Koala nods decisively and rushes over to ascend the ladder, leaving her alone on the Revolutionary ship. There don’t seem to be any more presences on board, meaning she’s perfectly unsupervised. 

For the first time in so long she can’t even count, there’s not a single person watching her. 

It’s refreshing, in a way, to be able to relax her shoulders and look around without having to keep up either of her masks. Her Marine persona is largely fabricated, of course, though it’s the one she’s had to keep up the most. It’s hard to let that one drop, and much easier to simply swap it for another mask – one with a bit more political dissention. A bit more freedom.  

Her anarchist persona may be less manufactured than the Marine one, but it’s still not completely her. She hasn’t been able to just be her in a very, very long time. It’s not an option, and she doubts it ever will be. 

But that’s all right. She’s achieving her goals no matter what she has to do to get there. She knew when she started out that this wouldn’t be a path she could walk away from – she’d accepted it then, and she still accepts it now. This is what she chose, and this is what she’s sticking with until the bitter end. 

Running a hand through her hair, she shakes off the introspection and makes her way into the cabin of the Revolutionary ship, eyes scanning the small room for anything that could possibly be useful. She hasn’t put her own bag down since leaving her quarters, too concerned about someone getting ahold of its contents to let go of it for even a second. If she loses even one of her files, the consequences could be disastrous, and not just for her. 

Two hammocks, two desks, two filing cabinets. The setup makes sense for a pair of high-ranking Revolutionaries, and she can’t help but wonder what information is in all those cabinets and drawers. 

Even after gathering information from and for the Marines for the past five or six decades, there’s still so much that she doesn’t know, and this could finally help her fill in a few of those gaps. Pulling the file out of her bag, she tucks it under her arm and goes to open the filing cabinet on the side she assumes to be Sabo’s, as the other side has Koala’s hat hanging from a hook beside the door. It’s locked, but that’s nothing a pair of bobby pins and some finagling can’t fix, and in moments she’s staring at the biggest treasure trove of information she’s seen since she was granted full access to the Marine records as the only one left in her department. 

She grabs a few files marked Pacifista and lays them out on the desk, opening her own folder to pull out a few papers on the subject. Her records appear to have more information on how exactly they’re put together, but the Revolutionaries have a section dedicated to dismantling them. That… now, that is what she would call useful. Grabbing a sheaf of scrap paper and a pencil out of her bag, she starts copying down everything she doesn’t recognise, stuffing it into her folder sheet by sheet as she finishes each one. 

She’s got to be quick about this, she knows. There’s no guarantee that the Revolutionary Army will agree to work with her, and if they don’t, she can’t pass up this opportunity for information. 

She may be in favour of freedom and the end of a corrupt government, but that doesn’t mean she’s as morally decent as the rest of them, either. If the ends justify the means, then she’ll weigh her options and take the one that gets her what she wants while doing her best not to cause more harm than absolutely necessary. 

In this case, there’s no harm in her copying down a few files to put in her own store of records. The Marines can’t get into her records anyways, not after she locked down the facility with a myriad of safeguards that only she would be able to bypass, and she’s putting the original files right back as soon as she’s done with them. No harm done, and no evidence left. Even if this world used fingerprinting technology, she got into the habit of never taking her gloves off decades ago. The only evidence is whatever she chooses to leave behind, and in this case, that’s nothing. 

They’ll never know she was here, and that’s just how she likes it. 

Chapter Text

“We’re coming up on the rendezvous point, Captain!” Bepo calls from somewhere inside the control room. “Should we surface?” 

Law shakes his head, then pauses and answers aloud, remembering that Bepo wouldn’t be able to see a nonverbal response from the other room. “No, stay under a bit longer. Don’t surface until the Shirohige Pirates have docked.” 

“Sorry! Got it!” 

Law leans back in his chair as if relaxing, but no pantomime can ease the tension building in his muscles right now. He hasn’t felt like this since he was a child, and yet, it feels completely warranted in the face of the situation he just witnessed at Marineford only hours ago. 

That woman had known about Flevance. Had said in front of the entire world that it was the government’s fault, that the Amber Lead was a toxin and not a contagion, that all of his people had been wrongly slaughtered for the government's greed. Someone had finally, finally admitted the facts of the massacre that had robbed Law of his family and his home, and she’d done it on a live broadcast that was being sent to every sea in the world. 

It’s refreshing, in a way, to finally hear the truth spoken plainly. And yet, he still can’t help but wonder why. 

Why now? Why her? Who even was that woman, who had spilled every secret she had time for and then had left with not only the intended victim of the execution, but with that straw-hatted idiot from Sabaody. 

Law can’t figure out what the hell this woman is playing at, much less why she’s chosen to do what she’s doing, but he refuses to be caught off guard. He needs to know more, and the only way to do that is to speak to her himself. The Heart Pirates had already started following the Moby Dick out of Marineford, ready to jump in if Portgas or Mugiwara’s wounds had begun to worsen, hoping that their offer of help would accrue good favour with the Shirohige Pirates. It’s always good to have a Yonkou’s esteem, after all, even if they don’t have an immediate favour to ask. It was merely a matter of adding another motive – this time, a desire for information rather than leverage.  

But no matter. The Moby Dick was docking up above them at some abandoned island, followed by a small ship that, according to the lookout, was flying the Revolutionary flag. No doubt it was a rendezvous of some sort, and whatever they planned on speaking about, Law would be involving himself. He refuses to leave this place until he’s gotten some answers out of that Marine woman about just what the hell she was talking about back at the execution. 

Rising from his chair and grabbing Kikoku, Law heads into the control room and makes a beeline for the sonar panel, walking straight past Bepo at the helm. “How long until they dock?” 

“Uni says they’re almost docked, but he can’t see the starboard side,” Bepo responds, pointing upwards. “We’re on the wrong side if we want to see when they drop the gangplank– um, sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise. How quickly can we get around the other side of the Moby?” 

“…In a few minutes, maybe? It won’t take long if we go underneath.” 

“Is there enough room for that?” Hakugan interrupts, head tilting. Law is sure they’re frowning behind their mask. “They’re getting awfully close to the island, and I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’d rather not get mushed under a Yonkou’s ship.” 

“Fair,” Law concedes. “We’ll go under, but stay close to the edge in case it starts getting tight. Got that?” 

“Yes, Captain!” 

Trusting his crew to handle the situation, Law glances out the window, watching as the currents shift and the water swirls. 

This is a risky plan, possibly one of the riskiest he’s ever had aside from anything involving Doflamingo, but Law needs to go through with it. He needs answers, and if there’s even the slightest chance that this could give him those answers… well. There’s just no way he could pass up this opportunity – not now, not after what he saw at Marineford. 

That woman has knowledge, but more than that, she has power . Law could do a lot with that on his side. 

(He’s needed power for a long, long time, and finally, he’s got the opportunity to acquire it. Law refuses to pass up this chance to finally have the ability to be free of that bastard that’s been haunting him for all these years, no matter what he has to give up to get this woman to agree to help him.)

“We’re surfacing now!” Hakugan yells, grabbing Law’s arm and shoving him into the chair in the corner of the room, left there and bolted to the floor for this express purpose. “Everybody hold onto your hats!” 

Law pointedly does not hold onto his hat, more concerned with gripping the arms of the chair to prevent himself from being thrown out of it by the harsh jolts of the submarine. The ascent is usually much smoother, but of course, the waters are still out of sorts from the docking of the Moby Dick above them. No matter – the Polar Tang can handle a bit of rough treatment, and he’s sure that Ikakku will be able to fix any damages incurred. 

The ship breaks the surface of the water with no issue, and soon enough Law is stepping out of the submarine and onto the beach. He looks around, but none of the Shirohige Pirates have disembarked yet – if he wants to see that Marine woman, he’s going to have to go and find her. 

“Bepo, wait here,” he orders, slinging his sword over his back. Perhaps it’s not the best move to go in with such a visible and dramatic weapon, but it’s not as if Law even needs his sword to be dangerous. Besides, when among such prestigious pirates as this, he’d be a fool to go in unarmed. “I’m heading onto their ship. I want to find that Marine from earlier who left with them.” 

“W-wait, but shouldn’t you bring someone with you? Maybe Penguin or Shachi? Sorry!” 

“It’s fine. I’d rather go on my own in case things go south. There’s a higher chance of me escaping on my own than if I had to worry about any of my crew at the same time.” 

“Oh… sorry. That makes sense.” 

Law watches as the Shirohige Pirates lower their gangplank, and he takes this opportunity to stroll right up the beach to where the base of it now rests in the sand, careful to keep his demeanour cool and collected. He looks up at the two Commanders standing on deck. 

“Permission to come aboard?” Law drawls, hands tucked into the pocket of his yellow sweatshirt. 

After a moment in which the two Commanders share a long look, one of them turns to him and nods. “Permission granted. Trafalgar Law of the Heart Pirates, isn’t it?” 

“In the flesh, as they say.” Stepping up the gangplank, Law notes that neither of them seem to be all that threatened by him, for all that they are still wary. Clever. They may be stronger than him, and well aware of it, but they’re still treating him with respect and caution, as is befitting of his station here. “I’m here to speak with the Marine woman who boarded your ship to leave Marineford. Where is she?” 

The Commanders share another glance, and this time it’s the other one who responds. “Why do you need to know?” 

“Because during her speech, she said something that I would like to know her connection to, and I’m not exactly going to find that out without asking her directly, now am I?” 

“Fine, fine, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” the first Commander huffs. He rakes a hand through his hair, thinking for a moment before finally coming to a conclusion “Jozu, go fetch her. She’s with that Rev right now, isn’t she? I doubt either of ‘em will mind if you interrupt.” 

So she’s with a Revolutionary? Law hadn’t known they would get involved quite so quickly – unless they were already involved, that is. It would certainly explain how she got so much information on incidents that she should be too young to have been directly involved with. The woman can’t be more than twenty-five, at the very most – there’s no way she was involved with the Flevance Massacre herself. Knowing about it from someone else’s firsthand sources, however, is much more likely. 

Law leans against the railing to wait, perfectly content to stand here and make the remaining Commander uncomfortable while the other, Jozu, runs and fetches the person he’s here to see. Soon enough, however, Jozu returns, and he’s bringing someone quite recognisable with him. 

“I hear you’ve sought me out,” the woman greets. “To what do I owe this conversation?” 

“I have questions about one of the incidents you mentioned,” Law begins. “And I would rather have this conversation in private if that suits you.” 

“Fine by me. Shall we go to your ship, then?” 

“Now, hang on,” the unnamed Commander interrupts, “are you sure we can trust this man? I’m not about to send you into the lion’s den because he claims to have some vague question he wants to ask you. You’ve got to admit, that’s sheisty as hell.” 

The woman gives him a sharp look that would have even a Yonkou cowering. “ I will decide where I do and do not go, thank you very much. Lead the way, Trafalgar-san.” 

Law nods and starts to head back down the gangplank, more than happy to comply. He’ll likely get his answers much quicker if he simply goes along, he decides. “It’s this way. We docked beside the Moby Dick as soon as they’d made landfall.” 

“Clever. Your submarine would be far less likely to get crushed by a larger ship if you were the last to dock.” 

He briefly wonders how she knew it was a submarine, but considering everything else she knows, it really shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise. As they approach the Polar Tang, Penguin sticks his head out of the hatch that leads to the deck, jaw dropping in surprise as he catches sight of their new guest. Law shoots him a look that he completely ignores as he climbs up onto the deck. 

“Oh, good, you found her!” He grins. “Name’s Penguin, welcome to the Tang!” 

“We’re here to speak somewhere private,” Law informs him pointedly, and Penguin nods in understanding. “We’re heading to the study. Tell the rest of the crew to fuck off or they lose hand privileges.” 

“Yep, you got it, Cap’n!” Penguin gives him a thumbs-up and disappears back down the hatch, presumably to go and warn the rest of the crew that Law is in one of his moods , as he and Shachi tend to refer to them. It’s not even that inaccurate, just obnoxious . 

Throughout all of it, the Marine says nary a word as they enter the ship, head down the hall, and go into the study – until the door to the study closes, that is. 

“Trafalgar D. Water Law,” she says, and Law’s blood runs cold. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

oOoOo

The PR Officer watches as Law’s face goes slack in shock and horror at the sound of his full name. She raises an eyebrow. “There’s really no need to give me that look. It’s not as if I’ve said it in front of anyone else.” 

“How did you know?” His voice comes out as little more than a murmur. “Who told you?” 

“Nobody. I found out myself. No one else in the Marines knows – only me. I’m a great many things, but one thing I’m not is a snitch – without a very good reason, that is.” She wouldn’t be a snitch at all if the Marines were any less corrupt, but, well. Airing out all of their dirty secrets in front of the entire world is a form of snitching, she supposes. 

Law’s tone grows sharp as he responds, eyes flashing. “And why are you telling me this? Do you think you’re going to get something from it?” 

“On the contrary. I’m telling you this because I’m hoping to disavow you of the notion that there’s any important information anywhere that I’m not already privy to. I’m sure you already heard my speech, but allow me to introduce myself properly: I am the one and only PR Officer of the Marines, and my goal is to destroy that entire organisation and their corrupt government once and for all, and with as much petty vengeance as I can possibly manage.” 

There’s silence for a moment as Law blinks, taking in her words. “What.” 

“Simply put, I’m the Public Relations Officer and I’ve made it my life’s goal to be a fucking menace. I’m just choosing now as the time to start menacing publicly instead of secretly.” 

“You want to overthrow the government that you… work for? Why?” 

“Well, you see, they’re incredibly corrupt and also a bunch of motherfucking bastards. Does that clear things up at all?” 

Law pinches his nose, collapsing into the armchair sitting in front of the desk. “No, not really.” 

There’s silence for a few moments as he tries (likely unsuccessfully) to process what the hell just happened, but it’s interrupted once again by the PR Officer as she decides that she does not, in fact, have time for this today. “ Did you want to know about Flevance, then?” 

“Yes. Yes, fine, tell me– what do you know about Flevance? You can’t have been involved yourself, so who did you know that was?” 

“Oh, I was involved. I’m somewhere between sixty and seventy years old, I think. I’ve been involved in everything .” 

“You’re what. ” 

“Blame the World Government’s experiments. Now, I did have a hand in the propaganda up to and following the incident, but I’m also aware that a certain breach of privacy protocols was mysteriously leaked by someone who was most certainly not connected to me in any way, and that breach was what allowed a rather significant number of citizens to escape the city and the impending genocide. I’m sure you and your First Mate are well aware of it.” 

Law stares at her incomprehensibly for an impressive amount of time before he stands and pokes his head out the door of the study. “Lami! Get in here!” 

The Officer takes a seat on the sofa as Law closes the door again and begins pacing. He looks rather stressed – understandably so, of course, but it can’t be good for his spine to have that much muscular tension. She would think that a doctor would be aware of that, at least. 

After a few minutes of silence (in which Law does nothing but pace and the PR Officer does nothing but sit and watch with mild and well-hidden amusement), the door opens once more, revealing a woman in her late teens to early twenties, with golden eyes and dark hair pulled back into two low pigtails. She raises an eyebrow at Law as she enters, looking supremely unimpressed. 

“ Again , Law?” She sighs, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him back into his chair before plopping down on the sofa right beside the Officer. “You’re gonna wear a hole in the carpet if you keep doing that, dumbass.” 

“Lami,” Law begins in a slightly strangled voice, “behold the source of the leak.” 

He gestures vaguely at the Officer, who simply looks from Lami to him and then back again. Lami stares uncomprehendingly. 

“Leak? Like… like in the wall or something?” She frowns. “That’s not good, we really ought to get that fixed before we submerge again.” 

“No, not– the leak . The information leak, the Flevance– the thing that got all those people out of Flevance, it was– it was her. She did it.” 

Lami’s eyes go wide, and she whips around to stare at the Officer with a mix of shock and awe. “Oh, she’s the– ohhh. Yep, that– I can see why you were pacing now. Okay, you’re gonna have to explain that a bit more.” 

“I’m the PR Officer for the Marines, but unfortunately for the Marines i think they’re all rather fucked in the head,” the Officer says politely, offering a hand for Lami to shake. Surprisingly, she takes it. “I’ve been doing my almighty best to discreetly undermine everything they do without exposing myself, since it would defeat the purpose if I were to get myself removed before I accomplished my end goal of overthrowing them entirely.” 

“Ah. Yep, that makes perfect sense.” Lami nods slowly, releasing the Officer’s hand. “So, where do we come into this, again? Just coincidence or was there, like, a plan for us? Because if there’s a plan, I would really like to be aware of it. Just to be clear.” 

The Officer shakes her head. “No, it was mostly coincidence. I didn’t want a massacre, but I couldn’t prevent it entirely without causing enough of a fuss that the citizens would likely just die anyway, so I did my best to minimise casualties from the outside. I sent that anonymous message to the Revolutionary Army, and the Army did the rest of my job for me in getting as many people out as possible.” 

Law eyes her, slowly nodding along. “And I assume it’s no coincidence that many of the Flevans ended up as Revolutionaries, and your main goal is… well, revolution?” 

“Mm. Yes, I see where you’re going with this, but I hadn't actually expected the majority of the Flevans to stay with the Army. That part was actually a coincidence, just a very convenient coincidence. I tend to have quite a lot of those. Inconvenient coincidences are equally common, I just prefer to ignore them.” 

Both Law and Lami stare at her for a little longer than she would like after she says that last bit. Not for the first time in this conversation, she finds herself wishing that she’d had the foresight to bring some tea with her so she could take a sip to diffuse the tension. That usually works, and if it doesn’t, well, at least she’s more hydrated than she was before. 

That data leak had been one of the most dangerous things she had ever done. If it had gone wrong in any way, she would have been completely and utterly fucked, and there wouldn’t have been a thing she could do about it. But… it was the only event that she knew she could help with. She had enough details, its accuracy wasn’t wildly plot-relevant or needed to keep the timeline from veering off into some other random direction, and as long as she played her cards right, she could still get everything set up in the right places while also making sure that countless people survived an event meant to spell their doom. 

It had been a gamble as well, not only with her own life but with everyone else’s, as well. Had the Revolutionary Army not managed to get ahold of the World Government’s notes, had they not been able to reverse-engineer the cure, well. She wouldn’t have been able to help them at that point. Those people would have died, plain and simple, and it would have been far more drawn-out and painful than a simple shot to the head would have been. 

And yet, her gamble had paid off. Her setup had worked perfectly. Now, everything was falling into place, and all she had to do was sit back and let it happen. 

“When you mentioned being the one who made the propaganda,” Law finally says, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the room, “what did you mean by that? What propaganda were you referring to?” 

She thinks for a moment, wondering how best to phrase it. “Namely the propaganda of Amber Lead Syndrome being a contagious disease. The Gorosei wanted a way to fearmonger against Flevance, to justify the purge they wished to wreak upon it – burning a city under quarantine in order to prevent the spread of infection is cruel and unwarranted, yes, but it isn’t unheard of.” 

(At least, not where she came from, it wasn’t. She still remembered learning about it in school – how some towns survived the plague because they simply torched any house whose inhabitants showed signs of it. She forgets the names of the towns now, but she remembers the lessons perfectly even a lifetime later.

With the inhabitants inside, of course. 

Functionally, was the Flevance Massacre really all that different, in the eyes of the World Government and their propaganda?) 

Lami rubs at her face, looking a bit sick. “That’s… fearmongering makes sense, but still .” 

“It was extreme, but the government does tend to be. I was only involved in the beginnings of the propaganda for this incident – I believe that for the most part, they felt my talents would be more useful elsewhere.” 

“And where was that?” Law asks. “Where were your ‘talents’ needed?” 

“Gathering and organising information, mostly, though I did continue to do a bit of twisting to their contagion story to make sure it was actually plausible before it was distributed. I travelled to Flevance after the massacre as part of the team who made sure that no survivors were left in the city. I didn’t do much of the groundwork, though – it was mostly chronicling what others found and making sure everything pertinent made it to the records.” 

Specifically, making sure everything pertinent made it to her records. She’s sure that the government would kill and die for even a fraction of what she has stored in her private archive… not that they’ll ever get ahold of it. 

(And even if they did, how would they read all of it? She wrote her most important files in Russian. It’s not like anyone here would be capable of reading cyrillic, let alone translating the words. It took her years to learn when she was young, and that was with a competent teacher and countless resources to pick and choose from. 

Granted, it may have been taking so long because it wasn’t the only language she was learning at the time, but still. She has no doubt that not a soul in this world could read that unless she allowed them to.) 

“Well. Anyways .” Standing up, she offers a short bow to each of the Trafalgar siblings before heading for the door. “This has been grand, but I have got rather a lot to do and I really must be getting back before certain people wake up from their amnesia-induced fainting spells. Sayonara.” 

Law stands abruptly, making as though he’s going to try and grab her arm, but she dodges nimbly, slipping right out the door and heading for the hatch as quickly as she’s able. Sabo will be waking up any moment now, and she must admit, she is incredibly invested in whatever he’s going to do once he regains consciousness. She has no doubts that it will wreak havoc of epic proportions – in short, her favourite kind of incident, whether she’s inciting it or merely observing. 

Things always tend to be the most fun when somebody gets to go buck-wild.