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Lieutenant Stacker is on his fifth cigar and his last nerve.
The amount of paperwork in his future is looking bleak, and he has to resist the urge to press the ash of his smoke to the manila folder beneath his arm and be free of it.
If only it were so simple.
He’s in charge of six goddamn islands in the Grand Line under Marine Base Seven. Six. No more, no less.
And he likes it that way.
He doesn’t house the ambition and drive his older brother does. He wants to do a decent fucking job, get decent pay, and retire at the ripe old age of sixty two.
He doesn’t want to spend his entire afternoon digging into why his most peaceful island of the six was suddenly in an uproar of chaos.
And yet- here he fucking is.
Stacker turns into the interview cells with a grimace.
A young cadet rushes up to report in the moment he’s stepped into the corridor. “Lieutenant, we’ve got all but one!" She informs him brightly. She rushes to keep up with his stride, a stack of cluttered paperwork clutched to her chest shuffling with the movement.
“Don’t get cocky,” Stacker chides gruffly, “Keep searching. He’s bound to be nearby, trying to figure out how to spring his crew.”
“Understood, Sir.” The cadet bows her chin in respect. Then, with a fluster of movement, she slips a single page of her paperwork free. “The affects list, as you requested.”
He nods, taking the paper and tucking it neatly behind the other pages in his manila folder. “Are they all in seastone?”
“Yes- even the pet,” she affirms.
“Good,” Stacker clenches his cigar to the corner of his mouth as he pauses to check the cell log on the wall. He reads over the names several times before making his decision. With an even stride, he makes his way to cell four.
He pauses, leaning his to the narrow hinge window, and after a brief moment of silence- raps his knuckles on the metal of the door.
And abruptly- on the opposite side of the door- there’s a squawk of surprise.
The Lieutenant smirks, “I’ll start with this one,” he tells the cadet.
She nods, stepping politely aside as Stacker opens the latch and heaves the door open.
A single bulb hangs over the metal table, yellow and aged. From somewhere off to the left there’s a constant drip drip of water. The air is stale and damp.
Sniper King Usopp of the Straw Hat Pirates holds his hands tightly in his lap where he sits at a bare metal table, illuminated by the single hanging bulb lamp overhead. The pirate's knee is bouncing up and down with nerves, rattling the chains of the shackle fastened to his ankle.
When Stacker lets the door fall shut behind him, the hefty metal clunk makes the sniper flinch. Silently, Stacker takes a seat in the narrow metal chair across from the pirate.
“Welcome to Marine Base Seven, Sniper King.” He drawls, taking his folder out from beneath the crook of his arm and dropping it atop the table. “My name is Lieutenant Stacker, and I’ve been tasked with reporting the details of what occurred on Albite Isle to Marine Headquarters.”
Stacker then tucks his thumb beneath the edge of the folder and flips it open. After a moment, his dark eyes rise once more, peering through the smoke of his cigar as he regards the sniper with idle interest.
“I was hoping you could help me with that.”
“Well, uh, I don’t know about that,” Usopp warbles, eyes darting off towards the corner of the room as his hands twist at his waist. “There sure was a lot going on.”
“There’s currently a crater in the northern districts,” the Lieutenant drawls. “Maybe you could start there.”
“Oh-!” Usopp’s voice pitches high. “Well if that’s what you’re asking about then we oughta start from the beginning.”
“Yeah-” Stacker takes a measured breath. “Why don’t you?”
The sniper takes a deep breath, nodding to himself as his brow furrows in solemn thought. “It all started when I was a young boy. I think about eight-”
“Not that far.” Stacker growls.
“Right right- of course,” Usopp waves him off. “I guess, then… You might start the tale from when we reached Albite?”
Stacker nods, encouraging.
“Our log pose was pointed right at it, you see.” The sniper continues. “So our incredible navigator guided our path directly into the island's lovely port.”
“Your navigator,” Stacker flips through his folder. “That would be… Cat Burglar Nami.”
▪────
“We split up when we reached port,” Cat Burglar Nami says. She sits further back in the chair, one lean leg crossed over the other as she twists her hand around to check her cuticles. “So I couldn’t speak to everyone's business.”
“How about just yours then?” Stacker prompts dryly, tapping his pen on the blank page of his record.
“Well I brought Zoro with me to the markets,” she shares, pulling a nail file from her bosom and beginning to tidy her nails. “We’d picked up this gaudy little lamp back on Johans and I just knew it would fetch a great price in the right hands.”
Stacker sighs, “Pirate hunter Zoro?”
Nami looks up at him through her lashes, her brow pinched in condescension. “Obviously.”
▪────
Pirate Hunter Zoro has pushed his chair back far enough to prop his heels on the table. His forearms are crossed loosely atop his exposed abdomen. His head is leaned back on his shoulders in rest as he snores lightly.
“Hey,” Stacker prompts, glowering across the table.
The swordsman doesn’t respond. His mouth is hung open in sleep and there’s a sliver of drool sneaking out of the corner of his mouth and cutting a line through the grime that cakes his skin. A laceration on his temple has bled into his eyebrow.
“Hey!”
▪────
“I’ll be done in a sec,” Cyborg Franky squints as he twists the bolt in the lampshade a hair tighter.
“That’s not necessary,” Stacker informs him flatly.
“No big!” Franky grins.
Suddenly, from within the shade- the single lightbulb shines brightly, properly illuminating the room for the first time in about twenty years.
“Yeah!” The cyborg pumps a fist in the air before falling gracelessly into his seat. The welds groaning from the weight of him. “Now- what was that you were asking?”
“What were the intentions of the Straw Hat pirates on Albite Isle?” The lieutenant grits out.
“Intentions, huh?” Franky frowns. “Well I needed some supplies to make Jin-bro a new bed. So him, Usopp and I went to check out craftsman alley.”
“A bed?” Stacker echoes.
“Mh-hm,” the cyborg agrees solemnly. “He’s a big guy, yanno. And I gotta make the ship comfortable for our newest crewmate.”
“...Right.”
▪────
First Son of the Sea Jinbei has seated himself on the floor in the cell. His ankles are crossed politely as he maintains a posture of idle meditation.
“Would you like to take a seat?” Lieutenant Stacker drones.
“No thank you,” Jinbei replies.
Stacker sighs, thumb flicking at the corner of his papers before he continues. “What was your purpose on Albite Isle?”
“I was joining our shipwright and sniper on the pursuit of materials for a new bed,” Jinbei shares. He lifts a hand to his face, scratching at his cheek sheepishly. “Unfortunately there wasn’t a bed on the ship suitable for a man of my size.”
“And did anything of interest occur during that… endeavor?” Stacker questions blandly.
“No,” Jinbei smiles, “nothing out of the norm.”
▪────
“Albite is a lovely isle,” the Demon Child Nico Robin informs him, her blue eyes sharp as she sits demurely in her seat. “The cathedral was quite the sight to behold.”
“Is that why you were there?” Stacker questions, watching the woman cautiously. “To destroy the cathedral?”
“Not in the least.” Robin replies politely. “Our musician and I merely went to indulge in the culture.”
“The Straw Hats Musician-” Stacker grimaces. “That would be Soul King Brook?”
Robin smiles, “the very same.”
▪────
“What happened on Albite?” Soul King Brook sits politely in his chair, his skull tilted in what appears to be delight. “Would you like it in a song?”
“No,” Stacker tells him.
Brook sighs grandly, with a great heave of his shoulders. “Then I’m afraid I just can’t help you,” he laments.
Stacker clenches his jaw and feels the fibers of his cigar crush beneath his molars.
▪────
“Well I was really excited to go to the food festival,” The Straw Hat’s Pet, Chopper, explains. He’s standing on the seat of the chair because he’s too short to see over the table otherwise.
Stacker tilts his head aside, eyeing what is likely the smallest seastone shackle he’s ever laid eyes on fastened to the creature's ankle.
It almost feels cruel.
“And did anyone join you at the festival?” Stacker questions.
“Sanji and Luffy did!” Chopper smiles.
Stacker nods, jotting that down. “And did anything unusual occur at the food festival?”
Chopper’s fur scrunches up in excitement. “Sanji took us to so many great stalls. Luffy’s belly got so round I could roll him! And I tried a soap pillow. It was delicious!”
“A sopapilla?” Stacker corrects before he can stop himself.
“Oh!” Chopper’s face brightens, “yeah that! Some of the honey got in my fur but Luffy found a fountain and we scrubbed it off so then we could keep exploring and get even more treats! Sanji got some cookies for Nami and Robin, and matcha tea for Zoro.
“And there was this stall that had spicy fried peppers- when Luffy ate it fire came out of his nose!” The reindeer lifts his hooves to gesture in emphasis. “I didn’t eat that though, I don’t like spicy things. So instead, Sanji got me a…”
Stacker closes his eyes briefly, searching for patience.
▪────
“I was just trying to get some berri for that stupid lamp.” Nami huffs in irritation. “There was supposed to be a high end auction in the northern district. I got us in, but then the appraiser got distracted-” Pausing, the burglar scrunches her nose up. “Why aren’t you asking Zoro this?”
“He’s asleep,” Stacker gripes.
“Typical,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes as she lifts a soda glass and tucks a curly straw between the bow of her lips.
The lieutenant stares agape at the drink in his captives hands. “Where the fuck did you get that?”
“Concierge,” Nami shrugs.
“We don’t have a concierge,” he replies scathingly.
▪────
Stacker glares suspiciously at the Pirate Hunter. The swordsman is lounged in the same position as before but his face has been wiped clean of grime. A plaster’s been applied to the cut on his temple.
He’s still snoring.
Stacker strikes the metal table with an open palm- the sound ringing like a shot and jolting the swordsman awake with a grunt.
“Oi-” Roronoa bares his teeth, a hand snatching to his waist despite the lack of his swords.
“Thank you for joining,” Stacker drawls. “I have some questions about Albite’s auction.”
Roronoa clicks his tongue, leaning back as he returns to his sprawl, “the shitheads stole my sword,” he summarizes.
Which is progress.
“Okay,” Stacker nods encouragingly. “What did you do about that?”
The swordsman grins with all of his teeth, “hunted them down.”
▪────
“The Church of Purification,” Robin recites calmly. “On the surface, their goals were quite auspicious. However-”
The quiet tap of ceramic cuts through the silence as a teacup is placed delicately back on its saucer. A wisp of steam rises from the surface of the liquid.
“In practice- Their actions were quite stringent.”
Stacker stares incredulously at the fine china set. “Who served you that?”
“It’s unfortunate that I didn’t get the chance to fully study their rituals,” Robin continues with a tone of mild disappointment. “Some of the depictions indicated a lengthy practice of mummification.”
▪────
“So then-” Franky pauses to wipe his mouth with his wrist and crumbs fall from his chin. “This guy comes up and he’s like Hey Brother- You’re on the wrong side of the city.”
Stacker shifts in his seat, and abruptly notices something off. He leans back from the table and looks down, shocked to find the pitiful metal frame chair he’d been sitting on before was now twice as wide, with armrests and scrollwork finishings.
“Nice, huh?” Franky throws him a thumbs up.
“Wha- how?”
▪────
“The gentleman then shows us to the underground auction,” Usopp regales, he waves his hand in gesture Stacker notes there's a smear of ketchup on his wristband. “Lovely man, just pleasant as could be-”
“Continue,” Stacker prompts flatly.
“And he seems to think Franky is expected at the proceedings. Which is fine.” The sniper nods to himself. “We handle that with the utmost of class and get a pass to the backrooms of the event.”
▪────
“The underground passages of Albrite might be worth the Marine’s consideration for review,” Jinbei comments politely. “I don’t believe the appropriate government regulations were being followed in their construction.”
Stacker stares at the fishman for a long moment.
“The underground passages you’re describing are now above ground passages,” he informs the fishman.
“Hm.. Yes,” Jinbei nods, lifting a slice of mango from his palm to his lips. “That’s probably for the best.”
▪────
“There was an organ in the cathedral,” Brook muses. “The acoustics were just incredible! You can’t imagine the absolute beauty that was the ringing of a perfect note with those ceilings!”
“Mh-hm,” Stacker frowns.
“But-” The skeleton lifts a single finger. “There were one too many pedals- You see.”
“Uh, sure.”
“And low and behold. When held- A passageway appeared between the columnades!”
▪────
“Sanji knew something was weird when he tasted the salted fish at this guy's stand,” Chopper regales. “This isn’t the quality you serve to customers. He’d said. Something is off.” The reindeer recites, lowering his pitch in an effort to match the other pirate.
“And he would know that?” Stacker raises an eyebrow.
“Of course he would!” Chopper affirms, his hooves planted firmly on the tabletop. “Salt is a compound that includes chlorine and sodium. Both are important dietary minerals!” The reindeer explains passionately, his eyes sparkling “But even in its base form there are unimaginable nuances that linger beyond a molecular scale. The flavors are incredibly complex depending on the source of its structure!”
“...Right.” Stacker blinks. “So you did… what?”
“We followed the merchant guy back to his evil lair!” Chopper explains, his voice pitched in excitement. “And when we got there we found Brook and Robin!”
▪────
“Purification can hold many meanings,” Robin muses aloud as she dips a square of shortbread into her tea. “To cleanse. To refine. To expunge.”
Stacker scowls, “okay?”
“In its essence- however. What mattered was intention.”
▪────
Usopp gestures tall with his arms, “the whole place was carved out of this weird, chalky white stone.”
Stacker furrows his brow, “a natural mineral?”
“Uh, I don’t know exactly, but it was certainly popular with the locals.” The sniper tilts his head and lifts a hand, beginning to count off of his fingers. “Sanji licked it and deduced that it wasn’t salt. Chopper licked it and thought it might be calcium. And then Luffy licked it and said it didn’t taste good. Then Zoro licked Sanji and said he didn’t taste good- so they started fighting.
“And then Franky licked it and said it was probably flammable. And man-” Usopp laughs dryly. “He was right.”
“Wait- Back up-”
▪────
The pirate hunter lifts his arm, and lifts a ceramic bottle of sake to his mouth, taking a generous swig.
Stacker blinks in quick succession. “Is that- where did that come from?”
Roronoa scowls back at him. “M’not sharing,” he replies.
The lieutenant shakes his head, trying to focus.
“What happened with the sword? The stolen blade?”
The swordsman drops the bottle on the surface of the table with a solid tak. “Got it back,” he grunts, the corner of his lips curving upwards. “But not before they used it to summon their god.”
▪────
“I didn’t know the stupid lamp was a relic, or whatever,” Nami exhales, her straw slurping noisily as she reaches the end of her beverage.
▪────
“A vessel of impurities,” Usopp recites with a grimace. “It sounded pretty serious. And there was a big- glowing thing in the center of the cathedral that did not look friendly.”
“Who summoned this… vessel?” Stacker frowns.
“The people in the robes,” the sniper waves his hands in the air as if in example. “They had Zoro’s sword on the altar and were chanting weird words with, like… emphasis- you know?”
▪────
“Zoro took his sword back, but they were all- ‘We require a bond,” Chopper recites, his voice thrown low in mimic. His short legs swinging freely where he’s perched on his seat. “But then Zoro was all ‘If it needs a bond- There’s one right here. And he grabbed Sanji.”
The reindeer giggles then around a mouthful of sweet licorice. “Oh- would you like any?” He offers.
“No thank you,” Stacker tells him blandly.
▪────
“It was quite touching,” Robin smiles, politely covering her mouth as she laughs in reminiscence. “Their god accepted the bond almost immediately.”
▪────
“It was incredible-” Franky grins, tears gathered in his eyes as he swings his arm in excitement; an iced flagon in his grip fuzz to the rim with cola. “The most romantic thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”
Stacker watches the carbonation spill over with abject confusion. “What?”
▪────
“I must say- It was indescribably beautiful,” Brook declares, lifting his saucer before bringing his teacup to his mouth. “A moment you’ll never forget.”
“Wait- Where- Stacker gapes, looking around the cell briefly as if he would find some damn answers. “Where the fuck did you get that?”
▪────
“They’re so fucking dumb,” Nami rolls her eyes, idly jostling her straw through the ice of her beverage. “As if we didn’t know already.”
▪────
“So it was a little rushed,” Zoro drawls, leaving the empty sake bottle on the table as he leans back again in his chair. His collar is rumpled and there’s a dark bruise on his neck Stacker doesn’t recall having noticed before. “Didn’t see a reason to wait.”
▪────
“And then I said - I do!” The Straw Hat Captain laughs. “So I’m pretty sure Zoro and Sanji are married now.”
Stacker stares, agape as the captain snickers, leaning back as he rests his hands over his rounded belly, bones strewn about the cell like decor.
“I’m happy for them,” Luffy decides.
▪────
Stacker slams the door of the interrogation corridor with a clash of metal.
“Does anyone have a lead on Blackleg?!” He roars, to the immediate clamor of his cadets. “And can someone please figure out where the hell they’re all getting this damn food!” Stacker fumes.
“Sir, please- come have a seat you’re smogging the corridor,” a cadet encourages, leading him off into a nearby office.
“This is ridiculous,” Stacker gripes, slapping his folder onto the desk and glaring at his own notes. “Corrupt salt merchants, underground arms deals, a cult!? What’s next?!”
The cadet doesn’t reply. The door latches behind him-
And then.. the lock clicks into place.
Stacker turns on heel, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
A sharp blue eye catches his gaze on the opposite side of the grating. “Not to worry Lieutenant- The next guard rotation should be here to collect you in exactly thirty minutes. And I’ve left some refreshments to tide you over, Sir.”
“Blackleg!”
“Actually,” The features tilt, the blue eye crinkling in abject amusement between the narrow field of view. “If you would be so kind as to jot it down for your record- It’s Roronoa Sanji now.”
▪────
Lieutenant Stacker watches from the window of his office as the Straw Hat’s ship sails off into the horizon.
He’s on his fifteenth cigar and his last shred of dignity.
He sighs heavily and reaches to click the line on his DenDenMushi.
It rings only twice before it’s answered.
“Smoker.”
“Hey- It’s Stacker.”
“Ah-” His brother chuckles knowingly. “How’d it go?”
“The Straw Hats escaped,” Stacker admits.
“Of course they did,” the Vice Admiral snorts. “Why the hell are you calling me about it?”
Stacker stares off into the distance where the pirate flag wanes from view. “I thought you might be interested to know that Blackleg and Roronoa got married.”
There’s a long pause as that information gets digested. And then-
“Aw shit.”
▪────▪