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silverwolfcc) wrote2009-01-20 06:17 pm
silverwolfcc) wrote2009-01-20 06:17 pm
Pirate Hunting Part 1
Disclaimer: One Piece is Eiichiro Oda's not mine.
Pairing: Smoker/Keitha
Title: Pirate Hunting Part 1
Rating: PG-13 for language and references to violence
Keitha bounded about happily, far too much energy for this early in the day. It was well past ten but as far as Smoker was concerned, it was still too early. She appeared to be on a sugar high. He would suspect her of drinking coffee but since she'd been bugging him ever since she got up he knew for a fact she hadn't had any. Sugar though... that she'd consumed in abundance.
"Pirates are coming, pirates are here," she rejoiced in a sing-song overly hyper voice.
Smoker resisted the urge to strangle her reminding himself that HQ would hate to lose one of their hard-trained spies.
"Pirates!" she sang gleefully.
Smoker twitched snapping irritably, "Sit down and shut up lieutenant!"
The spy stopped dancing around the room, sitting in one of the chair but clearly fidgeting at the lack of movement. She was like a hummingbird, desperately wanting to flap her wings to keep moving. Smoker rubbed a temple. He couldn't deny that a 20 million beri gang was a welcome relief from the monotony but he didn't know if he was rubbing off on her or vice versa for her to be genuinely excited at the prospect of action.
"We're going to do this calmly and rationally," Smoker growled at her. "No stupid stunts, got it?"
Keitha nodded slowly.
Smoker huffed over his cigars glaring at the lieutenant. He had to leave her behind. She was liking a ticking bomb itching to explode. As if she could read his thoughts she frowned angrily, "No!" Smoker kept his face smooth, she couldn't possibly know he was planning to leave her behind. "You can't ditch me old man. I've been waiting for something like this as much as you have."
The captain ground his cigars between his teeth irritably. It would be simple to do it all on his own, but then the last few times she hadn't exactly over-complicated the situation. Still she was a right pain in the ass and he didn't want to deal with her. "I'm going for a drink," he announced storming out.
"Going for a drink my ass," Keitha growled chasing after him, "You're going pirate hunting and it's pretty damn obvious old man."
Smoker said nothing to this, just continued walking. He couldn't get rid of her but maybe she'd get bored when she saw him actually sitting there having a drink. Then again, it hadn't happened yet. They walked through the streets of Loguetown, Smoker looking as stormy as ever and Keitha tailing him like an adoring puppy. If an adoring puppy could be grumbling a steady stream of curses and bitching about asshole captains.
Twitching with sheer annoyance Smoker growled at her, "Shut up!"
Keitha glared back defiantly grumbling, "Tell me to shut up, I'll tell you to shut up."
Definitely too early for this. Smoker needed a drink. He ducked into the Gold Roger still trying to get away from her, settling down on his favorite bar stool.
"Yo," the marine captain said by way of greeting.
"Get out," the barkeep responded with his usual retort.
"I'm a paying customer," Smoker grinned reaching for a bottle of rum, "Same as any other."
The little man scowled, "I have no paying customers so get out."
"Then it's a good thing you have me to keep you from going bankrupt," the marine captain beamed.
Keitha scuffled in still sulking about being told to shut but perked up as the bartender grinned at her, "Ah Miss Keitha," he grinned, "And what can I get you? Another cranberry, club, and lime?"
Flipping a hand through the back of her red hair Keitha flushed, "Oh that's sweet of you to offer but I really don't think..."
"It's no trouble," the little man beamed. Smoker sighed. His bar to get away from punks like her was now tainted. Tainted by her bubbly atmosphere in a place that was dark and depressing, tainted by her chipper fruityness.
"I don't really want anything fruity," Keitha murmured, spinning around and around on her stool like a toddler playing on a merry-go-round.
"Well I have tons of other things," the bartender stepped back behind his bar, eager to flex his drink mixing skills.
The spy still seemed trepidatious, "I dunno..." she began.
"Tomato juice," the little man snapped his fingers with inspiration.
Keitha blinked at this and Smoker rolled his eyes. It was a mistake coming here, he should have picked another bar but he liked the rum.
"It'll be perfect!" the withered bartender declared before adding, "Trust me."
The red-head nodded with a twinkling smile, "Okay sure."
The captain refrained from rolling his eyes yet again. Keitha could really turn on the charm when she wanted to; whether she did it on purpose or not. It was too bad that most of the time she was damned annoying. Actually, Smoker adjusted that in his head. When she was trying to be charming she was even more annoying. She was trying harder to be polite, but at the same time fidgeting like a small child as if she was seeing the bar and taking it in for the first time.
Keitha leaned over the bar, her chest thrust out a little too far -- again Smoker didn't know if she did it knowingly or accidentally -- and asked as she twirled a curl of her crimson hair around a finger, "What you doing?"
"Secret recipe," the bartender grunted.
Pouting, Keitha twirled a finger on the bar top, "Awww you can tell me, I won't tell a soul."
"But if you know, you'll stop coming back," the withered man pointed out, still mixing her drink.
Much to Smoker's severe aggravation Keitha giggled, and flirted, "Aw now I wouldn't do that. Most of the fun in coming is getting to see you!" Smoker choked a little on his rum... Keitha had that effect on him.
Maybe because of his age and experience or maybe just because of the stories Smoker had shared about Keitha, the bartender wasn't buying it. "It's a secret. Secrets are meant to be kept."
Keitha pouted again. "Awww but I just want to know what's in it," she fluttered eyelashes slightly but it was noticable.
Smoker shook his head muttering, "Shameless."
The little bartender didn't seem to care about her attempts to weasel the information out. She leaned foward even more in an attempt to look over his shoulder so that when he turned around he was directly facing her chest. "Well I guess I could tell you one or two of the secret ingredients," the bartender beamed displaying his lack of some teeth.
Choking completely on his rum at this, Smoker tried to cover it up by grabbing another bottle when the two other sets of eyes in the room turned to face him curiously. "Utterly shameless," Smoker grumbled grumpily. He thought he'd been quiet about it but Keitha beamed broadly at him in reply. The White Hunter shook his head. She was proud of herself for her depravity. He felt a small chill down his spine at her tiger-like expression of victory.
The bartender of the Gold Roger ran off a small list of added ingredients, Keitha making appropriate oohs and aahs, and, "Ohhh I wouldn't have expected that!" Smoker, snorting to himself all the while.
Sitting back in her chair to sip her tomato juice -- whatever the hell that was -- Keitha seemed to melt into her drink. "Ahhh," she sighed with enjoyment, "This is heavenly."
The bartender beamed with pride over her appreciation. Smoker twitched some more.
"Careful there Taisa," Keitha cautioned, watching him out a corner of her eye, "It looks like you're coming down with epilepsy."
Smoker glared at her furiously.
"Oi, barkeep," Keitha grinned casually making Smoker wonder if the bartender had slipped some alcohol into her drink after all. "What kind of cheese is best for rats?"
"Cheese? Rats?" the bartender echoed with some confusion.
Sighing, Smoker put a hand over his eyes.
"Yeah! I got a pet rat! He's named Herman!" she said proudly and much too excited about it.
The bartender arched an eyebrow, "That's very dangerous you know. They carry all kinds of diseases. Totally unsanitary."
"I gave him bath," Keitha replied dryly still sounding like a little kid.
Taken aback the bartender shared a look with Smoker asking, "Is she for real?"
Smoker viciously rubbed his temples willing the throbbing to go away.
"Miss," the bartender replied, "You shouldn't keep a pet rat, they can get really big in this city. I've seen one that was almost two feet big."
Snorting at the obvious lie Smoker nearly fell off his stool as Keitha's face lit up with excitement, going wide-eyed and hopeful. "REALLY!?" she asked, practically sparkling, "That's so cool! What kind of cheese would I have to feed him to get him that big?!"
The bartender shot another sidelong glance at the marine captain who'd decided two bottles was definitely not enough liquor to deal with Kietha. "He actually lets you keep a rat?" the bartender flicked a gesture in Smoker's direction.
"Awww Taisa's just a big softie once you get to know him," Keitha purred, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and petting his unshaven scruff.
It was rather like a large mastiff being glomped. On the one hand, he enjoyed the touch, on the other hand he had reputation to uphold. Growling low in his throat, Smoker's eyes narrowed on her, "Lieutenant, if you don't get off me right this second you're going to lose those fingers," he said in a cold dangerous voice actually meaning every word.
Keitha's eyes widened and she gulped, pulling back quickly. She cleared her throat as the bartender started guffawing wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Softie," the bartender laughed, "Right."
She turned mildly pink -- rather like her damn drink -- and muttered, "Sometimes he is. You should see him with kids."
The bartender's eyes focused on her, a flicker of worriment across his face. "You didn't take my advice then?"
Keitha blushed even brighter, looking a little hot under the collar. She pulled it out slightly. "Well..." she began spreading her hands helplessly, "There were... complications."
Cleaning glasses now (Smoker found it strange, where had the dirty glasses even come from? The man's only customers was well... himself) the bartender snorted shaking his head. "Complications, right."
"What advice was this?" Smoker demanded, eyes narrowing, voice low and dangerous.
"Nothing," the bartender said off-handedly.
At the same time he said the Keitha beamed and replied, "He told me to stay away from you."
Smoker genuinely didn't care. "I see," he took another swig of rum, and getting ready to leave, throwing berri on the countertop.
Keitha seemed a little disappointed that he didn't care, pouting a little before also placing down some berri and chasing after the captain. "Thanks for the drink," she shot a large smile back at the bartender.
"You really should consider what I said," the bartender shook his head ruefully, "He's trouble you know."
"I know," Keitha admitted with a small sigh. "Really, I do. He's gruff and trouble and a big pain in the neck but..." She didn't know how to explain that he was also the embodiment of every ideal she held sacred, justice and truth and being blunt when necessary and not caring about promotions or anything else so long as those were upheld.
The bartender just kept shaking his head.
The red-headed spy waved saying, "I think we'll be seeing you again sooner than you expect."
If he found this a curious way to say goodbye he didn't show it, just continuing to clean up glasses.
Keitha bounded outside, chipperly seeming to dance rather than walk up the steps. To her mild surprise Smoker hadn't decided to take the extra 30 seconds she'd spent talking to try to run away or go pirate hunting without her. Instead he was leaning, shoulders agains the wall (she wondered at how uncomfortable it must be with the jitte pressed up between his spine and brick but the captain seemed perfectly comfortable) taking a long puff of cigars. "So what now?" she asked cheerfully, smile wide. She was in a good mood, they were pirate hunting and little could be better than that.
"I guess we'll go down to the docks, seems like the best place to start," Smoker shrugged.
Blinking in stunned amazement Keitha felt extraordinarily cocky for a moment. She'd noticed pirates where Smoker hadn't. Smoker; the infamous White Hunter who was considered possibly the best in the world at tracking pirates. "What about the pirates in there?" Keitha jerked a thumb back at the Gold Roger.
Smoker's eyes widened, "Fuck!" he swore furiously, "I thought I was jumping at shadows!"
Keitha still felt pretty damned proud of herself. Granted they hadn't been the most unobtrusive pirates. There was at least a good dozen stashed away all over the small bar, attempting to hide in shadows as the bar had almost no light at all. "There's a back door to this place right?" Keitha grinned, she was trying not to gloat but finding it deliciously difficult.
Smoker nodded curtly, eyes darting back to the bar, itching to smack around some pirates.
"Okay," Keitha beamed a plan already formed in her head. "You go run around back -- you're faster than I am, and I'll go back inside and cover the front. I'll lead them right to you."
Smoker nodded again before taking off running and transforming into a smokey cloud for extra speed.
Humming to herself, thoroughly pleased, Keitha sauntered back into the bar. Several pirates that had been prying themselves out of twisted positions in order to leave froze in place as if her eyes would only be able to catch any movement. Looks of horror and worry flickered across their faces but Keitha was mildly impressed at their ability to stand so still in such uncomfortable positions.
"Ah! Silly me!" she laughed sounding for all the world like the biggest ditz. She swaggered back to the seat, schooling her head foward even though she was itching to make sure no one escaped. "I completely forgot the name of that cheese! You know the one to make the rat grow really big!"
The pirates shared mixed expressions of intense amusement and awe of how could anyone be so dense? The barkeep wasn't fooled at all though. He grimaced knowing the jig was up.
"Gouda," he suggested, playing along.
"Yeah?" Keitha leaned foward over the bar once again checking the pirate curled up under the bartop was still there. She'd been surprised when Smoker hadn't feigned an "accident" accidentally dropping bottles on the guy's head but maybe he hadn't noticed. She wondered what the hell her captain thought she'd been doing leaning over that far.
"Yeah," the barkeep replied, "Or peanut butter."
Keitha spun her seat around to face the pirates trying to tiptoe out the front. They still seemed to think she was too dumb to realize there were there. "Peanut butter you say," she mused loudly, "Is it good for catching pirates?"
The pirates trying to slip out the door froze again, shooting terrified looks in her direction.
The bartender sighed, still scrubbing down glasses.
"Jig's up men," Keitha said unsheathing her sabre. "Now but see me... I'm not really supposed to be on duty today. It's Smoker's turn, you know how it is." They now shared looks of nervous confusion and the barkeep scowled darker. "He's outside that door now," she pointed at the front, "Waiting to ambush you all as you come out."
Very confused looks of why is sharing this information with us flicked back and forth across the room.
"But me," Keitha leaned back casually, "I'm really kind of a live and let live person you know. I've met some pirates," she shrugged at this, "They're not all bad." More confused expressions but a small flicker of hope. Keitha would have felt guilty if she didn't feel so damned amused. "Now I'm supposed to cover the back door but see it's like I said... It's my day off you know and I might not do my job as well as I probably should. I just got my nails done and if I chipped them well do you know how irritating it is to redo them?"
It was an obvious lie, anyone looking at her nails could see they were swordswoman's nails: short, unpainted, and functional, even a bit chewed on actually -- she'd been upset during the ordeal with Aiden and had a habit of chewing them when she got worried. Still, it was dark and Keitha had carefully been giving off a specific kind of persona the whole time so they didn't suspect anything was amiss with this. The barkeep shook his head grumbling something too low for anyone to hear but Keitha could make out the words, "Idiots."
The eager greed on their faces was almost overwhelming and feigning dusting off her nails on her shirt Keitha continued, "So you know... I might just not catch every single pirate that tries to go out the back."
One of the pirates smelled a trap, "What about promotions?" he narrowed his eyes instantly.
Keitha's grin grew broader. "Who said I'd do it for free?" she smirked evilly. It was too easy. So many marines were so corrupt especially the marines pirates typically dealt with so pretending to be as corrupt as them didn't shock anyone; they expected it. It made her a little sad of course but the sadder part still was that she too expected it. Smoker was far from the standard marine. He was a fiercely loyal dog swimming in a sea of sharks.
One of the pirates groaned, another muttering, "Like we've even got that kind of money."
Keitha frowned, "I'm not asking for much. Just a thousand or so. Each."
They exchanged debating glances. A thousand was fairly steep for pirates who were frequently dirt poor, but given that all together they amounted close to 20 million, fourteen thousand wasn't much. "That's extortion!" one of them protested. Keitha refrained from rolling her eyes; pirates lecturing her on the law?
"You could always try the front door," she smiled sweetly.
The one that had been wary of her suggestion from the start shifted his jaw. "I don't trust it," he stated bluntly. The spy frowned, Aiden always said she over-acted but still, she was pretty sure she'd been spot on. "If you're after money, why not just turn us in for our bounty?"
The red-head bit her lower lip hard to keep from smiling ear to ear. "I'm one very small girl," she pouted, "I think I can take some of you... but all? I'd get hurt and then I wouldn't be able to do anything for months and then I wouldn't make any money during that whole time either! And I don't like being hurt," she pouted some more, adding a trembling lower lip to the effect.
"Then why don't we just kill you now?" one pirate suggested, "There are, as you pointed out, a lot of us."
Keitha couldn't keep down the flicker of annoyance that flashed across her face and the bartender looked about to protest to killing a girl (much less a marine) inside his establishment but Keitha shook her head. "Oh that wouldn't be very smart," she tsked. "Remember? Smoker, the White Hunter is right out that door," she jerked her head twoards the front door again. "All I have to do is scream as loud as possible and he'll have you all arrested in an instant. No no, it's really quite simple. A measley fourteen thousand berri or you rot in jail. What'll it be pirates?"
"I've heard of the White Hunter," the skeptic said, crossing arms acrossed his chest. "There's no way he'd let you get away with taking bribes under his nose."
A shot of pride coursed through the spy's chest. "He has a weakness for little girls, he thinks we're all idiots and innocent." She batted eyelashes at them, "Even if you told him I was trying to take bribes he'd never believe it."
Arms still crossed, a muscle twitched in his cheek, and the pirate growled, "Fine, we'll pay your price marine."
"Excellent," Keitha beamed, twirling around again, half expecting one of them to tackle her and try to strangle her with a rope. "Remeber, a thousand each."
"Yeah yeah," the pirate scowled as they produced several bags of money. They were going to try to cheat her but Keitha merely pretended to pay attention to the bags of berri. It was all a ruse anyway so what did she care?
She waved them through the back door outside and when the last one had left the bartender looked up at her bleakly. "That was cruel," he objected.
Keitha arched an eyebrow at the little man. "Setting a pack of blood-thirsty pirates loose on an unsuspecting public?" she suggested mildly.
He snorted at this sounding a little bitter, "We both Smoker's at the back, not the front."
The spy couldn't help grinning, "They are going to be so mad."
The bartender shook his head, "Not all pirates are blood-thirsty thieves and cut-throats you know."
Keitha softened, "I know," she said sadly. "Believe me... I do."
"Then why'd you do it?" he asked her angrily.
She looked him square in the eyes and without missing a beat replied, "Because they were."
"You don't know that," he sulked.
Keitha sighed, propping her head up on her hands, "Do you know where they got their money?"
The bartender frowned, he certainly didn't.
"They attacked a merchent ship, set it afloat without any masts or sails, stranding everyone still on it. On the cruise ship they attacked beforehand they made each person pay a hundred berri 'living fee,'" she replied with a small sigh. They both knew it wasn't that big-time for pirates but she didn't feel the need to run down the entire list of their crimes. "Not all pirates are all that bad. Most marines aren't all that good either. But some are. The world's not black and white, pops. There's shades of gray."
"Trying telling that to him," the barkeep scowled in reference to Smoker.
Keitha grinned wide, "Ahhh, well Smoker... He's a special case. They don't call him the 'White Hunter' for nothing. See ya around kiddo," she waved.
"You forgot your money," the barkeep scowled as she got up and resheathed the Benton.
"Keep it," Keitha frowned before grinning lightly, "Consider it a very large tip."
"I don't want your blood money," he growled.
Keitha sighed, she didn't want it either. It'd only been a ruse to make her story sound more believable. Supposedly according to marine protocol she was supposed to turn it in to HQ to have it sorted and sent back to its rightful parties but she knew as well as any other marine that it just about never reached the right hands and usually just funded more marine operations or lined some vice-admirals pockets. "Sure, great, make me take it back to base and sort it. Thanks," she scowled, heavy on the sarcasm. She really didn't want to deal with it and since she was the one who'd gotten it, she'd have to be the one to sort rocks from coins and tallying it up to send back to HQ. Not a pleasant way to spend the evening.
She took it with her as she went out the back door to greet her captain and his captives. All fourteen men were neatly bundled up, some of them sporting bruises, a few even a little unconcious. "You witch!" the burly skeptic glared at her through a puffy eye and cut lip.
She tossed the coins at his head, "If it hurts it's your fault for putting rocks in it," she said, hoping it did hurt. Besides, now it was someone else's problem.
"That worked well, lieutenant," Smoker stood, back as straight at his jitte, arms across his chest surveying his handiwork.
Keitha shrugged though she was secretly highly pleased with his compliment. "It is something of a specialty," she murmured trying to be modest and failing miserably.
"Hey bitch!" one of the pirates called out struggling against his ropes, "What about our deal?"
The spy couldn't help laughing. "You all could have gone out the back door for free if you hadn't said anything," she frowned, "Not that it would have done you any good."
"What?" he shook his head confused.
One of his friends head-butted him, "She set us up doofus."
Keitha smiled charmingly, "Isn't it pesky how you just can't trust anyone anymore?"
They scowled and muttered amongst themselves but Keitha didn't care. Their leader (though not the captain Keitha noted with a frown) glared at her balefully but she almost welcomed the attempt on her life she was betting he wanted to make. Two small cuts and his neck would snap in a second.
"You got all fourteen then?" Keitha asked her captain trying to count.
"Of course," he scowled at her doubting his abilities, "Not their captain though." He frowned, the idea of even one pirate running loose in his town clearly rankled him.
"He wasn't with them," Keitha echoed his scowl before realizing chipperly this meant the hunt was still on. "Guess we get to go look for him," she grinned, some of the excited overly hyper energy returning.
Smoker gave her a sidelong glance. "We can't leave the prisoners here alone."
Keitha's face turned into the sulky stormcloud that it had been that morning, "Aw hell no Taisa!" she objected, "I'm not going to escort them back if that's what you're getting at."
He chewed his cigars. He could give her a direct order she'd have to obey. But with Keitha there was the risk she wouldn't obey and he'd have to punish her and it was just more hassle than it was worth. "Someone has to take them back," he responded calmly looking up at the windy sky. It was getting dark. It was still only around noon-time, the dark was from storm clouds.
"You do it then," she folded her arms across her chest in a miniature imitation of him. "You drag them back to base and then you can come find me when I've already caught Blue-cheeks."
"Lieutenant," he growled, "Think about this rationally. Clearly the one most capable of finding him quickly without incident is going to be someone who knows this town implicitly."
Keitha growled, "I know more of this town than you think Taisa. I don't sleep much, remember?"
One of the pirates interrupted, "I know where the captain is."
Keitha and Smoker shared a glance with each other before looking at the captive pirate. "Do you think he's looking for leniency?" Keitha asked as if the pirate couldn't hear.
"Maybe he's lying," Smoker suggested, also as if the pirate couldn't hear them.
"It could be a trap," Keitha agreed. The rest of the men tied up with the one that spoke out took the opportunity to do their best to beat him to a pulp.
Keitha beamed down with a wicked smile, "If you are telling us the truth, you will get leniency. If you are attempting to lead us into a trap, then you are underestimating our skills and we will capture your captain, and still give you leniency for your information. Understand?"
The pirate gulped frantically replying, "No trap! The ship took a lot of damage! He went to look at getting it fixed." His friends began yelling and trying to kick him some more.
"You idiot!" one growled, "The captain still could have rescued us!"
"No way!" the coward protested, "They're too strong. Even Davies couldn't beat him!"
"Still could be an act," Keitha mused aloud watching the pirates fight amongst themselves.
Smoker sighed, "Still, it'll have to be looked into."
"Of course," Keitha nodded, "And someone will have to hit the streets, make sure he doesn't double around or anything."
"And someone still needs to escort the prisoners," Smoker reminded her tersely.
Keitha pinched the bridge between her eyes. "I still refuse."
Smoker chewed his cigars crankily about to point out she couldn't actually refuse when a marine came bounding down the side street out of breath, saluting awkwardly with the musket strapped to his back. "Taisa! Lieutenant!" he saluted, panting slightly. "Tashigi said you might need reinforcements!"
Identical grins of delight flicked across Smoker and Keitha's face as they beamed first at the recruit, then each other, then the pirates, back to each other and the then the recruit again. "Excellent timing Danvers," Smoker rumbled.
"Absolutely perfect," Keitha agreed grinning broadly.
"Um..." Danvers looked a little terrified. Any time both Smoker and Keitha were grinning like cheshire cats, something had to be up. "Thank you, sirs?"
"You can handle escorting the prisoners back, can't you?" Keitha said eagerly.
Smoker clapped a hand to the marine's shoulder, "I'm sure you'll do a stand-up job."
"Great, I'm glad that's taken care of," Keitha beamed, "So what do you say Taisa? You'll take the docks and shipwrights and I'll take the backroads?"
"Um wait, sirs?" Danvers tried to interrupt.
"You sure you know your way around well enough?" Smoker asked appraisingly.
Keitha grinned, "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised old man."
Smoker nodded, "I'll take the docks then." Keitha frowned, he clearly thought he had a greater chance of running into the pirate there but Keitha was suspecting they would try to find food while they were in the area -- no matter what the other pirate had squealed.
"Okay, see you soon," she waved jogging off.
"Sir?" Danvers ventured again looking at the tied up pirates nervously.
"Good luck Danvers," Smoker saluted ignoring the man's quailing. He was certain the marine could handle it even if the boy had yet to realize it yet. He took off at an easy walk towards the docks, his long legs more than making up for his decision not to move faster.
Danvers let out a small meeping sound of fear; he wasn't a super-human like Smoker or insane like Keitha. But he was a marine and they were relying on him so taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, doing his best Smoker imitation of a snarl and started dragging the pirates back to the other marines.
Pairing: Smoker/Keitha
Title: Pirate Hunting Part 1
Rating: PG-13 for language and references to violence
Keitha bounded about happily, far too much energy for this early in the day. It was well past ten but as far as Smoker was concerned, it was still too early. She appeared to be on a sugar high. He would suspect her of drinking coffee but since she'd been bugging him ever since she got up he knew for a fact she hadn't had any. Sugar though... that she'd consumed in abundance.
"Pirates are coming, pirates are here," she rejoiced in a sing-song overly hyper voice.
Smoker resisted the urge to strangle her reminding himself that HQ would hate to lose one of their hard-trained spies.
"Pirates!" she sang gleefully.
Smoker twitched snapping irritably, "Sit down and shut up lieutenant!"
The spy stopped dancing around the room, sitting in one of the chair but clearly fidgeting at the lack of movement. She was like a hummingbird, desperately wanting to flap her wings to keep moving. Smoker rubbed a temple. He couldn't deny that a 20 million beri gang was a welcome relief from the monotony but he didn't know if he was rubbing off on her or vice versa for her to be genuinely excited at the prospect of action.
"We're going to do this calmly and rationally," Smoker growled at her. "No stupid stunts, got it?"
Keitha nodded slowly.
Smoker huffed over his cigars glaring at the lieutenant. He had to leave her behind. She was liking a ticking bomb itching to explode. As if she could read his thoughts she frowned angrily, "No!" Smoker kept his face smooth, she couldn't possibly know he was planning to leave her behind. "You can't ditch me old man. I've been waiting for something like this as much as you have."
The captain ground his cigars between his teeth irritably. It would be simple to do it all on his own, but then the last few times she hadn't exactly over-complicated the situation. Still she was a right pain in the ass and he didn't want to deal with her. "I'm going for a drink," he announced storming out.
"Going for a drink my ass," Keitha growled chasing after him, "You're going pirate hunting and it's pretty damn obvious old man."
Smoker said nothing to this, just continued walking. He couldn't get rid of her but maybe she'd get bored when she saw him actually sitting there having a drink. Then again, it hadn't happened yet. They walked through the streets of Loguetown, Smoker looking as stormy as ever and Keitha tailing him like an adoring puppy. If an adoring puppy could be grumbling a steady stream of curses and bitching about asshole captains.
Twitching with sheer annoyance Smoker growled at her, "Shut up!"
Keitha glared back defiantly grumbling, "Tell me to shut up, I'll tell you to shut up."
Definitely too early for this. Smoker needed a drink. He ducked into the Gold Roger still trying to get away from her, settling down on his favorite bar stool.
"Yo," the marine captain said by way of greeting.
"Get out," the barkeep responded with his usual retort.
"I'm a paying customer," Smoker grinned reaching for a bottle of rum, "Same as any other."
The little man scowled, "I have no paying customers so get out."
"Then it's a good thing you have me to keep you from going bankrupt," the marine captain beamed.
Keitha scuffled in still sulking about being told to shut but perked up as the bartender grinned at her, "Ah Miss Keitha," he grinned, "And what can I get you? Another cranberry, club, and lime?"
Flipping a hand through the back of her red hair Keitha flushed, "Oh that's sweet of you to offer but I really don't think..."
"It's no trouble," the little man beamed. Smoker sighed. His bar to get away from punks like her was now tainted. Tainted by her bubbly atmosphere in a place that was dark and depressing, tainted by her chipper fruityness.
"I don't really want anything fruity," Keitha murmured, spinning around and around on her stool like a toddler playing on a merry-go-round.
"Well I have tons of other things," the bartender stepped back behind his bar, eager to flex his drink mixing skills.
The spy still seemed trepidatious, "I dunno..." she began.
"Tomato juice," the little man snapped his fingers with inspiration.
Keitha blinked at this and Smoker rolled his eyes. It was a mistake coming here, he should have picked another bar but he liked the rum.
"It'll be perfect!" the withered bartender declared before adding, "Trust me."
The red-head nodded with a twinkling smile, "Okay sure."
The captain refrained from rolling his eyes yet again. Keitha could really turn on the charm when she wanted to; whether she did it on purpose or not. It was too bad that most of the time she was damned annoying. Actually, Smoker adjusted that in his head. When she was trying to be charming she was even more annoying. She was trying harder to be polite, but at the same time fidgeting like a small child as if she was seeing the bar and taking it in for the first time.
Keitha leaned over the bar, her chest thrust out a little too far -- again Smoker didn't know if she did it knowingly or accidentally -- and asked as she twirled a curl of her crimson hair around a finger, "What you doing?"
"Secret recipe," the bartender grunted.
Pouting, Keitha twirled a finger on the bar top, "Awww you can tell me, I won't tell a soul."
"But if you know, you'll stop coming back," the withered man pointed out, still mixing her drink.
Much to Smoker's severe aggravation Keitha giggled, and flirted, "Aw now I wouldn't do that. Most of the fun in coming is getting to see you!" Smoker choked a little on his rum... Keitha had that effect on him.
Maybe because of his age and experience or maybe just because of the stories Smoker had shared about Keitha, the bartender wasn't buying it. "It's a secret. Secrets are meant to be kept."
Keitha pouted again. "Awww but I just want to know what's in it," she fluttered eyelashes slightly but it was noticable.
Smoker shook his head muttering, "Shameless."
The little bartender didn't seem to care about her attempts to weasel the information out. She leaned foward even more in an attempt to look over his shoulder so that when he turned around he was directly facing her chest. "Well I guess I could tell you one or two of the secret ingredients," the bartender beamed displaying his lack of some teeth.
Choking completely on his rum at this, Smoker tried to cover it up by grabbing another bottle when the two other sets of eyes in the room turned to face him curiously. "Utterly shameless," Smoker grumbled grumpily. He thought he'd been quiet about it but Keitha beamed broadly at him in reply. The White Hunter shook his head. She was proud of herself for her depravity. He felt a small chill down his spine at her tiger-like expression of victory.
The bartender of the Gold Roger ran off a small list of added ingredients, Keitha making appropriate oohs and aahs, and, "Ohhh I wouldn't have expected that!" Smoker, snorting to himself all the while.
Sitting back in her chair to sip her tomato juice -- whatever the hell that was -- Keitha seemed to melt into her drink. "Ahhh," she sighed with enjoyment, "This is heavenly."
The bartender beamed with pride over her appreciation. Smoker twitched some more.
"Careful there Taisa," Keitha cautioned, watching him out a corner of her eye, "It looks like you're coming down with epilepsy."
Smoker glared at her furiously.
"Oi, barkeep," Keitha grinned casually making Smoker wonder if the bartender had slipped some alcohol into her drink after all. "What kind of cheese is best for rats?"
"Cheese? Rats?" the bartender echoed with some confusion.
Sighing, Smoker put a hand over his eyes.
"Yeah! I got a pet rat! He's named Herman!" she said proudly and much too excited about it.
The bartender arched an eyebrow, "That's very dangerous you know. They carry all kinds of diseases. Totally unsanitary."
"I gave him bath," Keitha replied dryly still sounding like a little kid.
Taken aback the bartender shared a look with Smoker asking, "Is she for real?"
Smoker viciously rubbed his temples willing the throbbing to go away.
"Miss," the bartender replied, "You shouldn't keep a pet rat, they can get really big in this city. I've seen one that was almost two feet big."
Snorting at the obvious lie Smoker nearly fell off his stool as Keitha's face lit up with excitement, going wide-eyed and hopeful. "REALLY!?" she asked, practically sparkling, "That's so cool! What kind of cheese would I have to feed him to get him that big?!"
The bartender shot another sidelong glance at the marine captain who'd decided two bottles was definitely not enough liquor to deal with Kietha. "He actually lets you keep a rat?" the bartender flicked a gesture in Smoker's direction.
"Awww Taisa's just a big softie once you get to know him," Keitha purred, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and petting his unshaven scruff.
It was rather like a large mastiff being glomped. On the one hand, he enjoyed the touch, on the other hand he had reputation to uphold. Growling low in his throat, Smoker's eyes narrowed on her, "Lieutenant, if you don't get off me right this second you're going to lose those fingers," he said in a cold dangerous voice actually meaning every word.
Keitha's eyes widened and she gulped, pulling back quickly. She cleared her throat as the bartender started guffawing wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Softie," the bartender laughed, "Right."
She turned mildly pink -- rather like her damn drink -- and muttered, "Sometimes he is. You should see him with kids."
The bartender's eyes focused on her, a flicker of worriment across his face. "You didn't take my advice then?"
Keitha blushed even brighter, looking a little hot under the collar. She pulled it out slightly. "Well..." she began spreading her hands helplessly, "There were... complications."
Cleaning glasses now (Smoker found it strange, where had the dirty glasses even come from? The man's only customers was well... himself) the bartender snorted shaking his head. "Complications, right."
"What advice was this?" Smoker demanded, eyes narrowing, voice low and dangerous.
"Nothing," the bartender said off-handedly.
At the same time he said the Keitha beamed and replied, "He told me to stay away from you."
Smoker genuinely didn't care. "I see," he took another swig of rum, and getting ready to leave, throwing berri on the countertop.
Keitha seemed a little disappointed that he didn't care, pouting a little before also placing down some berri and chasing after the captain. "Thanks for the drink," she shot a large smile back at the bartender.
"You really should consider what I said," the bartender shook his head ruefully, "He's trouble you know."
"I know," Keitha admitted with a small sigh. "Really, I do. He's gruff and trouble and a big pain in the neck but..." She didn't know how to explain that he was also the embodiment of every ideal she held sacred, justice and truth and being blunt when necessary and not caring about promotions or anything else so long as those were upheld.
The bartender just kept shaking his head.
The red-headed spy waved saying, "I think we'll be seeing you again sooner than you expect."
If he found this a curious way to say goodbye he didn't show it, just continuing to clean up glasses.
Keitha bounded outside, chipperly seeming to dance rather than walk up the steps. To her mild surprise Smoker hadn't decided to take the extra 30 seconds she'd spent talking to try to run away or go pirate hunting without her. Instead he was leaning, shoulders agains the wall (she wondered at how uncomfortable it must be with the jitte pressed up between his spine and brick but the captain seemed perfectly comfortable) taking a long puff of cigars. "So what now?" she asked cheerfully, smile wide. She was in a good mood, they were pirate hunting and little could be better than that.
"I guess we'll go down to the docks, seems like the best place to start," Smoker shrugged.
Blinking in stunned amazement Keitha felt extraordinarily cocky for a moment. She'd noticed pirates where Smoker hadn't. Smoker; the infamous White Hunter who was considered possibly the best in the world at tracking pirates. "What about the pirates in there?" Keitha jerked a thumb back at the Gold Roger.
Smoker's eyes widened, "Fuck!" he swore furiously, "I thought I was jumping at shadows!"
Keitha still felt pretty damned proud of herself. Granted they hadn't been the most unobtrusive pirates. There was at least a good dozen stashed away all over the small bar, attempting to hide in shadows as the bar had almost no light at all. "There's a back door to this place right?" Keitha grinned, she was trying not to gloat but finding it deliciously difficult.
Smoker nodded curtly, eyes darting back to the bar, itching to smack around some pirates.
"Okay," Keitha beamed a plan already formed in her head. "You go run around back -- you're faster than I am, and I'll go back inside and cover the front. I'll lead them right to you."
Smoker nodded again before taking off running and transforming into a smokey cloud for extra speed.
Humming to herself, thoroughly pleased, Keitha sauntered back into the bar. Several pirates that had been prying themselves out of twisted positions in order to leave froze in place as if her eyes would only be able to catch any movement. Looks of horror and worry flickered across their faces but Keitha was mildly impressed at their ability to stand so still in such uncomfortable positions.
"Ah! Silly me!" she laughed sounding for all the world like the biggest ditz. She swaggered back to the seat, schooling her head foward even though she was itching to make sure no one escaped. "I completely forgot the name of that cheese! You know the one to make the rat grow really big!"
The pirates shared mixed expressions of intense amusement and awe of how could anyone be so dense? The barkeep wasn't fooled at all though. He grimaced knowing the jig was up.
"Gouda," he suggested, playing along.
"Yeah?" Keitha leaned foward over the bar once again checking the pirate curled up under the bartop was still there. She'd been surprised when Smoker hadn't feigned an "accident" accidentally dropping bottles on the guy's head but maybe he hadn't noticed. She wondered what the hell her captain thought she'd been doing leaning over that far.
"Yeah," the barkeep replied, "Or peanut butter."
Keitha spun her seat around to face the pirates trying to tiptoe out the front. They still seemed to think she was too dumb to realize there were there. "Peanut butter you say," she mused loudly, "Is it good for catching pirates?"
The pirates trying to slip out the door froze again, shooting terrified looks in her direction.
The bartender sighed, still scrubbing down glasses.
"Jig's up men," Keitha said unsheathing her sabre. "Now but see me... I'm not really supposed to be on duty today. It's Smoker's turn, you know how it is." They now shared looks of nervous confusion and the barkeep scowled darker. "He's outside that door now," she pointed at the front, "Waiting to ambush you all as you come out."
Very confused looks of why is sharing this information with us flicked back and forth across the room.
"But me," Keitha leaned back casually, "I'm really kind of a live and let live person you know. I've met some pirates," she shrugged at this, "They're not all bad." More confused expressions but a small flicker of hope. Keitha would have felt guilty if she didn't feel so damned amused. "Now I'm supposed to cover the back door but see it's like I said... It's my day off you know and I might not do my job as well as I probably should. I just got my nails done and if I chipped them well do you know how irritating it is to redo them?"
It was an obvious lie, anyone looking at her nails could see they were swordswoman's nails: short, unpainted, and functional, even a bit chewed on actually -- she'd been upset during the ordeal with Aiden and had a habit of chewing them when she got worried. Still, it was dark and Keitha had carefully been giving off a specific kind of persona the whole time so they didn't suspect anything was amiss with this. The barkeep shook his head grumbling something too low for anyone to hear but Keitha could make out the words, "Idiots."
The eager greed on their faces was almost overwhelming and feigning dusting off her nails on her shirt Keitha continued, "So you know... I might just not catch every single pirate that tries to go out the back."
One of the pirates smelled a trap, "What about promotions?" he narrowed his eyes instantly.
Keitha's grin grew broader. "Who said I'd do it for free?" she smirked evilly. It was too easy. So many marines were so corrupt especially the marines pirates typically dealt with so pretending to be as corrupt as them didn't shock anyone; they expected it. It made her a little sad of course but the sadder part still was that she too expected it. Smoker was far from the standard marine. He was a fiercely loyal dog swimming in a sea of sharks.
One of the pirates groaned, another muttering, "Like we've even got that kind of money."
Keitha frowned, "I'm not asking for much. Just a thousand or so. Each."
They exchanged debating glances. A thousand was fairly steep for pirates who were frequently dirt poor, but given that all together they amounted close to 20 million, fourteen thousand wasn't much. "That's extortion!" one of them protested. Keitha refrained from rolling her eyes; pirates lecturing her on the law?
"You could always try the front door," she smiled sweetly.
The one that had been wary of her suggestion from the start shifted his jaw. "I don't trust it," he stated bluntly. The spy frowned, Aiden always said she over-acted but still, she was pretty sure she'd been spot on. "If you're after money, why not just turn us in for our bounty?"
The red-head bit her lower lip hard to keep from smiling ear to ear. "I'm one very small girl," she pouted, "I think I can take some of you... but all? I'd get hurt and then I wouldn't be able to do anything for months and then I wouldn't make any money during that whole time either! And I don't like being hurt," she pouted some more, adding a trembling lower lip to the effect.
"Then why don't we just kill you now?" one pirate suggested, "There are, as you pointed out, a lot of us."
Keitha couldn't keep down the flicker of annoyance that flashed across her face and the bartender looked about to protest to killing a girl (much less a marine) inside his establishment but Keitha shook her head. "Oh that wouldn't be very smart," she tsked. "Remember? Smoker, the White Hunter is right out that door," she jerked her head twoards the front door again. "All I have to do is scream as loud as possible and he'll have you all arrested in an instant. No no, it's really quite simple. A measley fourteen thousand berri or you rot in jail. What'll it be pirates?"
"I've heard of the White Hunter," the skeptic said, crossing arms acrossed his chest. "There's no way he'd let you get away with taking bribes under his nose."
A shot of pride coursed through the spy's chest. "He has a weakness for little girls, he thinks we're all idiots and innocent." She batted eyelashes at them, "Even if you told him I was trying to take bribes he'd never believe it."
Arms still crossed, a muscle twitched in his cheek, and the pirate growled, "Fine, we'll pay your price marine."
"Excellent," Keitha beamed, twirling around again, half expecting one of them to tackle her and try to strangle her with a rope. "Remeber, a thousand each."
"Yeah yeah," the pirate scowled as they produced several bags of money. They were going to try to cheat her but Keitha merely pretended to pay attention to the bags of berri. It was all a ruse anyway so what did she care?
She waved them through the back door outside and when the last one had left the bartender looked up at her bleakly. "That was cruel," he objected.
Keitha arched an eyebrow at the little man. "Setting a pack of blood-thirsty pirates loose on an unsuspecting public?" she suggested mildly.
He snorted at this sounding a little bitter, "We both Smoker's at the back, not the front."
The spy couldn't help grinning, "They are going to be so mad."
The bartender shook his head, "Not all pirates are blood-thirsty thieves and cut-throats you know."
Keitha softened, "I know," she said sadly. "Believe me... I do."
"Then why'd you do it?" he asked her angrily.
She looked him square in the eyes and without missing a beat replied, "Because they were."
"You don't know that," he sulked.
Keitha sighed, propping her head up on her hands, "Do you know where they got their money?"
The bartender frowned, he certainly didn't.
"They attacked a merchent ship, set it afloat without any masts or sails, stranding everyone still on it. On the cruise ship they attacked beforehand they made each person pay a hundred berri 'living fee,'" she replied with a small sigh. They both knew it wasn't that big-time for pirates but she didn't feel the need to run down the entire list of their crimes. "Not all pirates are all that bad. Most marines aren't all that good either. But some are. The world's not black and white, pops. There's shades of gray."
"Trying telling that to him," the barkeep scowled in reference to Smoker.
Keitha grinned wide, "Ahhh, well Smoker... He's a special case. They don't call him the 'White Hunter' for nothing. See ya around kiddo," she waved.
"You forgot your money," the barkeep scowled as she got up and resheathed the Benton.
"Keep it," Keitha frowned before grinning lightly, "Consider it a very large tip."
"I don't want your blood money," he growled.
Keitha sighed, she didn't want it either. It'd only been a ruse to make her story sound more believable. Supposedly according to marine protocol she was supposed to turn it in to HQ to have it sorted and sent back to its rightful parties but she knew as well as any other marine that it just about never reached the right hands and usually just funded more marine operations or lined some vice-admirals pockets. "Sure, great, make me take it back to base and sort it. Thanks," she scowled, heavy on the sarcasm. She really didn't want to deal with it and since she was the one who'd gotten it, she'd have to be the one to sort rocks from coins and tallying it up to send back to HQ. Not a pleasant way to spend the evening.
She took it with her as she went out the back door to greet her captain and his captives. All fourteen men were neatly bundled up, some of them sporting bruises, a few even a little unconcious. "You witch!" the burly skeptic glared at her through a puffy eye and cut lip.
She tossed the coins at his head, "If it hurts it's your fault for putting rocks in it," she said, hoping it did hurt. Besides, now it was someone else's problem.
"That worked well, lieutenant," Smoker stood, back as straight at his jitte, arms across his chest surveying his handiwork.
Keitha shrugged though she was secretly highly pleased with his compliment. "It is something of a specialty," she murmured trying to be modest and failing miserably.
"Hey bitch!" one of the pirates called out struggling against his ropes, "What about our deal?"
The spy couldn't help laughing. "You all could have gone out the back door for free if you hadn't said anything," she frowned, "Not that it would have done you any good."
"What?" he shook his head confused.
One of his friends head-butted him, "She set us up doofus."
Keitha smiled charmingly, "Isn't it pesky how you just can't trust anyone anymore?"
They scowled and muttered amongst themselves but Keitha didn't care. Their leader (though not the captain Keitha noted with a frown) glared at her balefully but she almost welcomed the attempt on her life she was betting he wanted to make. Two small cuts and his neck would snap in a second.
"You got all fourteen then?" Keitha asked her captain trying to count.
"Of course," he scowled at her doubting his abilities, "Not their captain though." He frowned, the idea of even one pirate running loose in his town clearly rankled him.
"He wasn't with them," Keitha echoed his scowl before realizing chipperly this meant the hunt was still on. "Guess we get to go look for him," she grinned, some of the excited overly hyper energy returning.
Smoker gave her a sidelong glance. "We can't leave the prisoners here alone."
Keitha's face turned into the sulky stormcloud that it had been that morning, "Aw hell no Taisa!" she objected, "I'm not going to escort them back if that's what you're getting at."
He chewed his cigars. He could give her a direct order she'd have to obey. But with Keitha there was the risk she wouldn't obey and he'd have to punish her and it was just more hassle than it was worth. "Someone has to take them back," he responded calmly looking up at the windy sky. It was getting dark. It was still only around noon-time, the dark was from storm clouds.
"You do it then," she folded her arms across her chest in a miniature imitation of him. "You drag them back to base and then you can come find me when I've already caught Blue-cheeks."
"Lieutenant," he growled, "Think about this rationally. Clearly the one most capable of finding him quickly without incident is going to be someone who knows this town implicitly."
Keitha growled, "I know more of this town than you think Taisa. I don't sleep much, remember?"
One of the pirates interrupted, "I know where the captain is."
Keitha and Smoker shared a glance with each other before looking at the captive pirate. "Do you think he's looking for leniency?" Keitha asked as if the pirate couldn't hear.
"Maybe he's lying," Smoker suggested, also as if the pirate couldn't hear them.
"It could be a trap," Keitha agreed. The rest of the men tied up with the one that spoke out took the opportunity to do their best to beat him to a pulp.
Keitha beamed down with a wicked smile, "If you are telling us the truth, you will get leniency. If you are attempting to lead us into a trap, then you are underestimating our skills and we will capture your captain, and still give you leniency for your information. Understand?"
The pirate gulped frantically replying, "No trap! The ship took a lot of damage! He went to look at getting it fixed." His friends began yelling and trying to kick him some more.
"You idiot!" one growled, "The captain still could have rescued us!"
"No way!" the coward protested, "They're too strong. Even Davies couldn't beat him!"
"Still could be an act," Keitha mused aloud watching the pirates fight amongst themselves.
Smoker sighed, "Still, it'll have to be looked into."
"Of course," Keitha nodded, "And someone will have to hit the streets, make sure he doesn't double around or anything."
"And someone still needs to escort the prisoners," Smoker reminded her tersely.
Keitha pinched the bridge between her eyes. "I still refuse."
Smoker chewed his cigars crankily about to point out she couldn't actually refuse when a marine came bounding down the side street out of breath, saluting awkwardly with the musket strapped to his back. "Taisa! Lieutenant!" he saluted, panting slightly. "Tashigi said you might need reinforcements!"
Identical grins of delight flicked across Smoker and Keitha's face as they beamed first at the recruit, then each other, then the pirates, back to each other and the then the recruit again. "Excellent timing Danvers," Smoker rumbled.
"Absolutely perfect," Keitha agreed grinning broadly.
"Um..." Danvers looked a little terrified. Any time both Smoker and Keitha were grinning like cheshire cats, something had to be up. "Thank you, sirs?"
"You can handle escorting the prisoners back, can't you?" Keitha said eagerly.
Smoker clapped a hand to the marine's shoulder, "I'm sure you'll do a stand-up job."
"Great, I'm glad that's taken care of," Keitha beamed, "So what do you say Taisa? You'll take the docks and shipwrights and I'll take the backroads?"
"Um wait, sirs?" Danvers tried to interrupt.
"You sure you know your way around well enough?" Smoker asked appraisingly.
Keitha grinned, "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised old man."
Smoker nodded, "I'll take the docks then." Keitha frowned, he clearly thought he had a greater chance of running into the pirate there but Keitha was suspecting they would try to find food while they were in the area -- no matter what the other pirate had squealed.
"Okay, see you soon," she waved jogging off.
"Sir?" Danvers ventured again looking at the tied up pirates nervously.
"Good luck Danvers," Smoker saluted ignoring the man's quailing. He was certain the marine could handle it even if the boy had yet to realize it yet. He took off at an easy walk towards the docks, his long legs more than making up for his decision not to move faster.
Danvers let out a small meeping sound of fear; he wasn't a super-human like Smoker or insane like Keitha. But he was a marine and they were relying on him so taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, doing his best Smoker imitation of a snarl and started dragging the pirates back to the other marines.