T'was the day before deployment, a festive mood in the air.
No seriously, it's wild how excited they are.
427's unit was lined up with a few others, at military rest. They were all arranged in a clean square. He was guessing they were all under Ichiji's command, as the 66 on their chests were red.
The atmosphere is… explosive.
Electric would have been a better word but 427 wanted to link the pun back to Ichiji.
Damn my jokes suck balls.
At least he was self aware.
The newer clones were stationed towards the back, with the more experienced clones having the "honor" of being closer to the stage. At the front was a large stage, a lectern, and a… black board?
You're telling me they've invented laser cannons but they haven't thought of goddamn markers.
Shaking his head at the sheer absurdity that was the One Piece tech tree, he held back a flinch as a sharp whistle sounded out. Two clones walked solemnly onto stage. With an air of ceremony, they sharply turned to face the crowd.
The atmosphere was solemn. Between the two of them, they held… a stepstool…
What the actual hell is going on?
They set down the stepstool and took two steps back where they stood.
Bit of a tongue twister.
"Introducing: Lord Ichiji!" The clone on the right bellowed out.
The commander strode out. His red hair was perfectly in place, his raid suit and cape fluttered majestically in the wind. All 4 '7 of him was composed.
HE'S 4 '7.
It hit like a bombshell. The relief he felt was immeasurable. He had instinctively assumed that he was starting his life at the same time as Luffy's journey.
The idea of having to survive against the Big Mom pirates in just a few years had filled him with dread.
Assuming I even stay that long. Honestly, if I'm still here after three years, I deserve to die.
Ichiji looked around eleven to twelve. He was going off how Sanji looked when he first met Zeff, but who knew if the modifications made him grow up faster.
Assuming he was eleven, that meant the year was 1515. Seven years before the story started. He shoved that revelation to the back of his mind as Ichiji strode up to the lectern, standing on the stepstool.
427 wanted to laugh, but he didn't dare risk any changes in expression. The Vinsmoke kids were beating up clones and bending metal bars at eight. Who knew how sharp their vision was?
Ichiji's eyes swept over the crowd. At least, 427 was assuming that. It was kind of hard to tell with the sunglasses.
The alternative is that he has stage fright, which is too bizarre to consider.
Ichiji squared his shoulders, hands on the lectern.
"There is only one thing I have to say. Victory is expected. Anything else is irrelevant."
A crisp snapping sound echoed across the grass, as every clone made a perfect salute in sync.
"SIR YES SIR!" The resounding voices of the clones sounded out in unison.
That's… That's it?
All 427 could say was that it was very in character. At least he wasn't under Yonji. That speech would have taken hours.
Ichiji somehow managed to hop down from the stool elegantly, and strode off the stage. And yes, his eyebrows were somehow as curly as they appeared in the show.
As he left, one of the two clones off to the side approached the stand, presumably to give a briefing that extended longer than one sentence.
He started by putting a fist over his mouth, clearing his throat.
"Ahem, Ahem!"
Ohhh! So professional!
"This deployment will be to Lvneel, a traditional monarchy situated in the North Blue. Expect pastoral meadows and smaller cities spread throughout."
Despite the coma-inducing tone he spoke in, 427 managed not to fall asleep standing up.
"We have been hired to quell a rebellion. The deployment will be to not only defend the royal castle, and neighboring port city," - He paused to take a sip of water from a bottle -
"but also take care of any pirates approaching during this time of unrest, and any cities that have attempted to secede from the kingdom."
The implications of a civil war were concerning morally. 427 didn't have any problem fighting to survive. At the end of the day, it was either them or him. That didn't mean he was comfortable with the idea. He'd never killed anyone before, and it didn't help that in this case, he was the "bad guy."
He turned his attention back to the lecturer.
"The estimated duration we have been hired for is two weeks. That is all."
That's it? Well, I suppose even knowing this much is good for chaff like us.
As the clones were dismissed, 427 pondered what to do next.
No point in training the day before, who knows if I'll injure myself.
The thing he most lacked at this point was actual knowledge of what to do on the battlefield. He needed advice, and the only person he could think to ask was Nine.
He said he wouldn't teach me, but it's not like he can't give a few pointers. Right?
Wandering over to the back of the castle, he looked around. The area was a hive of activity. Clones rolled cannons out of the weapons depot, the presumed science center had medical supplies hauled out by the cartload, and the royal guard was… about the same.
Now that he was here, he had no clue where to start.
Might as well find the oldest looking clone here.
Though, he reckoned Nine was closer to middle aged than elderly.
He gazed around, but it was hard to gauge the years when they were wearing their combat uniforms. It covered their hair and the upper half of their face.
A hand landing on his shoulder made his heart leap into his throat.
"You need something, rookie?" He turned around to see a clone.
What the hell else would I see?
"I'm looking for Nine." The older soldier looked at him scrutinizingly.
After a moment, he asked
"Do you know him personally?" 427 was pretty sure that if his mask was removed, there would be a raised eyebrow underneath.
"Yep."
Always gotta be shameless! And in this case, it isn't even a lie!
After another pause of consideration - Who knows? Maybe he's just slow up there - a response came.
"You can find him in the medical storage building."
Is that what it actually is, or just a cover? More importantly,
"Am I even allowed to go in there?" 427 asked, confused.
As expected, another pause came. Then a yawn.
Yeah there's something wrong with this guy.
"Mmmm… Should be fine. And remember, no casual conversations about it with your other recruits." With that, he waved off 427 and continued walking to God knows where.
His bed, hopefully.
Walking over to the building, he walked in to see what looked like a regular lobby. There were two clones manning a desk, on a sterile white tiled floor. Behind them loomed a massive 3D 66, lit from underneath like a supervillain during their monologue.
To the left was a giant, metal vault door, also emblazoned - you guessed it - with another 66. It was cracked open, making it impossible to see inside. Out of it came a stream of medical supplies, all carted along by clones wearing lab coats.
Turning his eyes back to the front desk, he walked up to the clone secretaries, one of which looked up as he approached.
"Can I help you?" He asked politely.
"I'm looking for a soldier named Nine. It's not an emergency though, so if I need to wait that's perfectly fine."
"One moment please." He took out a den den mushi, and started speaking over it in a hushed tone.
"Gacha." Hanging up, the secretary looked back at 427.
"He'll be with you shortly."
"Sounds good." He turned to awkwardly stand and wait by a wall.
What kind of lobby has no chairs? Seriously, this entire building looks straight out of Despicable Me!
After a few minutes, the trademark laugh echoed towards him, making him look up.
"Bwahahaha! My shameless junior! What unreasonable request do you have today?"
Ghhk! The words landed with a critical effect on his embarrassment. Despite this, he persevered.
Shamelessness is eternal!
"I know you said you wouldn't give any tips about fighting unless we survived this deployment, but I just wanted to know if there was anything useful to boost our chances at survival? Please!"
He ended it with a formal bow. The One Piece world had a lot of similarities to Japanese culture - surprise surprise! - so he figured it wouldn't hurt.
"Bwahaha! Raise your head!" he looked up to see Nine with a serious expression on his face.
"I'll only give you one. Go get a backpack from the quartermaster. You're allowed to bring things back, and you'll need currency to trade with the civilians." Regardless of his cold tone, 427 was shocked that he said anything to begin with. He didn't exactly seem like the person to violate the rules he had set himself.
Unable to stop himself, 427 blurted out
"Why are you giving me advice?" He immediately hit a mental facepalm.
I should have just taken the advice and dipped. I'm such a dumbass.
Nine blinked.
"Bwahahaha! What a funny junior! Why ask if you don't expect a response?" He paused for a minute, looking slightly more solemn.
"Hmm… If I had to say, you remind me of someone I used to know." Before 427 could even think of what to say without tripping over himself, Nine continued talking.
"Bwahahaha! That's enough outta me for now." Like clockwork, the smile abruptly stopped.
"Bother me again before deployment ends, n' I'll beat the tar outta you."
"Understood!" 427 threw in a salute for good measure.
"Bwahahaha! See ya shameless. Don't die too pathetically!" With that, he shambled back into the lab, through the vault door.
An experience, like always.
427 wandered over to the quartermaster to get a bag. Stopping in front of the supply depot, he stopped abruptly.
Of course there's a line.
He spotted 341 about halfway in between. He sauntered over to him, to have a quick chat. Definitely not to cut the line.
Hey, I may be about to kill people defending their right to live, but even I'm not that evil.
"Whaddya up to?" He asked, all casual.
341's piercing look locked on to him.
"Do you intend to skip the line?" What would have been a second critical strike on his embarrassment in one day was deflected! He had no intentions of doing so from the start!
"Are you casting aspersions on my character?" 427 asked incredulously.
"Yes."
Shithead.
"To answer your question, I wish to requisition cleaning supplies for my firearm. Also a knife."
"A knife, huh? Probably a good choice for you." What with the range from his arms, and his primary being a sniper rifle.
"I know." Came the retort.
Why's this little shit always gotta get the last word? He inhaled and exhaled.
Be the bigger person. Be the bigger person.
"Alright, I'm heading out. See ya." 427 turned to leave for the back of the line. As he moved to step away, 341 made another statement.
"I look forward to working with you." 427's eyes locked back onto him.
Does he… feel bad for what he said? If this was earlier in his new life, he would have dismissed it as a programmed response. Knowing what he did now, he couldn't tell.
After a second's pause, he responded.
"Same." With a nod, he finally left for the back of the line.
As he waited, he thought back to his past experiences with 341, and how they lined up with what he knew. He knew the clones could express concern, at least for the royal family, from the show.
They showed it multiple times with Sanji, including when he "died." He wracked his head, but he couldn't recall seeing any clone-clone interactions. There was one scene, when Yonji was revealing the secrets of the clones, where the soldiers were laughing arm and arm.
That most likely meant there was some form of camaraderie amongst them.
I doubt it extends to the battlefield, though.
After waiting through the line, he grabbed a large rucksack, and a cleaning kit for his guns and gauntlets.
I forgot to tell 341 about the bag thing. Oh well.
There would be chances to find bags on the island.
He already knew what he was going to be searching for: high quality meat.
Pause.
It was a non-negotiable essential to his further development.
After he tried to go to bed, he finally fell into a fitful sleep. Wracked by dreams he'd rather not recall, the night passed slowly.
Finally, it was time for war.