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The Going Merry groaned like an old man's bones as she rode the uneasy swells, caught between the approaching Marine fleet and the gathering storm. Lucas gripped the rain-slick railing, his fingers numb from tension. Salt spray stung his face as he squinted at the horizon, where dark sails multiplied like ink spilled across parchment.
"Thirty million berries says we'll have to fight them eventually," Lucas muttered. "Might as well get it over with while we still have daylight."
Behind him, Usopp collapsed onto the deck with all the grace of a sack of potatoes, his chest heaving from their narrow escape through the squall. The sniper's long nose twitched as he spotted the blockade reforming ahead. "G-guys…!" he croaked, pointing a trembling finger. "They're like cockroaches! Stomp one, and ten more crawl out!"
Zoro didn't bother looking up from polishing Wado Ichimonji, the white blade gleaming even under the storm-darkened sky. "Quit whining. We fight now or fight later when they've got reinforcements." He tested the edge against his thumb. "I vote now."
Luffy, who'd been poking at a seagull perched on the figurehead, suddenly perked up. His straw hat cast a shadow over his eyes as that familiar grin split his face. "Then let's give 'em a show they won't forget! Maybe they'll put up more of a fight than Buggy's circus clowns!"
Nami's navigation charts flapped wildly in the wind as she shot him a withering look. "This isn't a game, Luffy! That's a full Marine blockade!" She jabbed a finger at the largest warship, its triple gun decks visible even at a distance. "See those? Thirty-two-pounders. One broadside turns the Merry into toothpicks!"
From the galley doorway, Sanji exhaled a smoke ring the wind shredded instantly. "Nami-swan, your tactical mind is as radiant as your smile! But perhaps…" His lovesick expression hardened as he glared at the Marine ships. "...we discuss strategy after I kick those Navy dogs into next week?"
Lucas found himself oddly comforted by their bickering. It was the same rhythm they'd fallen into since he'd joined—Usopp panicking, Zoro itching for a fight, Nami calculating odds, Sanji flipping between simping and battle-ready, and Luffy treating imminent death like an afternoon playground scuffle. The familiarity steadied him more than any pep talk could.
Abis, silent until now, gripped the railing until her knuckles whitened. "They're not after you," she said, voice tight. "It's me they want. If I just..."
"Stop." Lucas cut her off, harsher than intended. When she flinched, he softened his tone. "You're crew. That means we sink or swim together." He nodded to Luffy. "And our captain doesn't know how to sink."
Luffy, now gnawing on a mysteriously procured meat bone, waved it cheerfully. "Yep! Besides, Marines are always after someone. Last week it was that guy with the weird nose..."
"THAT WAS ME!" Usopp screeched.
"...and before that, Nami when she stole their..."
"Luffy!" Nami's fist connected with his head, producing a sound like a mallet hitting a watermelon. "We don't talk about that!"
Zoro sighed, sheathing his swords. "Can we focus on the twenty warships about to kill us?"
As if summoned, the lead Marine vessel fired a warning shot. The cannonball sent a geyser of seawater crashing over the Merry's bow.
Sanji flicked his cigarette overboard. "That's our invitation."
Luffy stretched his arms around the mizzenmast. "Ready?" His grin never wavered as the crew took positions, Zoro tying his bandana, Sanji straightening his tie, Nami securing her Clima-Tact, Usopp loading his slingshot with shaking hands, Lucas checking his kunai.
"Gum-Gum…" Luffy's arms coiled like springs. "ROCKET!"
The launch sent Zoro and Sanji flying after him, their curses ripped away by the wind. Lucas watched the trio arc toward the nearest Marine ship, chaos erupting before they even landed.
Usopp gulped. "So… just us four against nineteen ships?"
Nami smacked him. "Don't jinx it!"
Abis stared between them, torn between guilt and awe. "You're all insane."
Lucas adjusted his gloves. "Took you this long to notice?"
Aboard the Justice's Blade, Major Henshaw's polished boots echoed on the oak deck as he adjusted his bicorne hat, gold braid glinting under storm-light. His first officer, Lieutenant Eric, emerged from the cabin with the precision of a metronome, his academy-straight posture a contrast to Henshaw's salt-weathered bearing.
"Major," Eric began, voice clipped, "we've identified the pirate vessel. Recommend immediate action to disable and secure the girl." His hand rested on his saber's ornate hilt, a ceremonial piece that could split a man in two.
Henshaw raised his spyglass, brass worn smooth from decades of use. Through it, the Merry's sheep figurehead loomed larger. "Thirty-million-berry bounties aren't handed out for petty theft, Lieutenant. That boy's either lucky or dangerous." He snapped the glass shut. "And luck runs out before thirty million."
Eric's jaw tightened. "With respect, sir..."
"Is that for my rank or my forty years of service?" Henshaw's burn-scarred eye pinned him. "Recall what happened to the last officer who questioned me before the crew."
A ripple passed through the nearby Marines. Every sailor knew the tale of Ensign Rove, reassigned to permanent latrine duty after challenging Henshaw during the Loguetown riots.
Eric straightened. "My concern is the Millennium Dragon intelligence. If it leaks..."
"...the Admiral will have our heads on pikes." Henshaw surveyed the deck, gunners priming cannons, sharpshooters in the rigging, the electric fear of green recruits. Command was a noose that tightened with every promotion.
After a silence long enough to remind Eric of the chain of command, Henshaw decided. "No broadsides. Disable, board, and capture them alive."
"Alive?" Eric's composure cracked. "Their bounties state..."
"Orders, Lieutenant." Henshaw leaned in, tobacco and salt on his breath. "Or would you explain to Sengoku why we shredded the Dragon Girl?"
Eric's fingers twitched toward the strange compass at his belt, his "insurance", but he saluted sharply. "Aye, sir!"
As he turned, Henshaw grabbed a midshipman. "Double the lookouts. Have the surgeon prep the operating theater." His grip tightened. "The Admiral wants her intact, not unharmed."
The Marine cutter sliced through waves with unnatural speed, its prow defying the churning sea. Usopp's slingshot creaked in his white-knuckled grip.
"L-Lucas! That's no ordinary officer!" Usopp's voice cracked. "Look how the water parts, it's a Devil Fruit!"
Nami's Clima-Tact snapped open. "Wind manipulation. Our projectiles won't work."
Abis grabbed Lucas sleeve. "That's Lieutenant Eric—'Zephyr's Edge.' He's—"
"Fire Star!" Usopp's attack streaked toward the cutter.
Eric flicked his fingers. Wind blades shredded the pellet midair, the explosion blooming harmlessly twenty feet away.
Usopp's jaw dropped. "That was my best shot!"
Nami's staff crackled. "Let's see him redirect lightning!"
"Wait—" Lucas grabbed her wrist.
Too late. The Thunderball Tempo sizzled toward Eric—only for him to sweep it aside into the sea.
"Amateur hour's over," Eric called, voice smooth as steel. "Hand over the girl, and I'll make your deaths quick."
Usopp's knees knocked. "New plan! We throw Abis overboard and—"
"Usopp!" Nami and Lucas shouted.
Abis stepped forward. "I'll go. You've been kind, but—"
"Kid, stop," Lucas said, pushing her behind him. "We don't negotiate with bullies."
A crash from the rigging—Sanji landed in a crouch. "Apologies. Had to educate a few Marines on manners." He lit a cigarette. "So. Who's the dandy ruining our deck?"
"Devil Fruit user," Lucas said. "Wind blades. Ranged attacks fail."
Sanji's eye gleamed. "Ah. Close-quarters, then." He adjusted his tie. "My specialty."
Eric's boat pulled alongside. "Last chance."
Nami whispered to Usopp, who grinned wickedly. As Eric leapt onto the railing, Usopp fired: "Special Star: Glue Shot!" The pellet splattered at Eric's feet just as Nami shouted, "Mirage Tempo!"
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T/N: Thanks for the support from: Lam Sha, Black Widow, Hamza Masfar, Lord Of the Mysteries, Andrew, Jiri Stehule, trey hill, Agustin Monti, Tightless, Impulsionimulsion.