The blue sails were powered by the wind behind them, carrying the dozen or so ships, all of them carrying men and women, all clad in the same shade of blue. Each of them had a unique symbol on the front of the ship, indicating which part of the company they belonged to. The ships were regular galleons, not massive ships, but big enough certainly be intimidating. Each carrying 20 or so men.

They were approaching the island, and as they came into view, ruckus on the island erupted. Both from the remnants of the companies, and the natives of the island. This was an invasion force, and the The Great Horn Archipelago began preparing for another battle, if worse came to worse. And this time, they had no Balder Knights to protect them.

Down by the shore, closer to the breeze, one could find the scatters of the four companies that had fought on the island. Torn pieces of clothes and armors spread across the entire shore, the town square and the city walls. Bottles, glasses and tankards spread every where. Blades, axes and guns were stabbed into walls, the ground, floors and furniture. It looked like the site of both a battlefield and a parade, with no time in between and no time to clean up either.

Down in the town square, the clashing of swords could be heard. The ginger-haired gunner was without his coat for once, wearing only his dress-shirt on his torso. Riding boots without the spurs on his feet and his black dress-pants with suspenders hanging over his waist for leasure. His right hand was gloved, his left without glove, instead holding the hilt of a rapier. His brown leather hat crowning his head, blocking the sun from reaching his red-ish eyes. His gaze was stuck on the two opponents on the other side of the small circle that had been drawn on the ground, each of them carrying a rapier, too.

"Let's go." He commanded the two, one wearing green, the other wearing yellow. They were swordsmen of the companies, and Kuhn had asked them to duel him with swords.

The traded blows, Kuhn performing excellently despite the sword being far from his favorite way of doing battle. But he considered fencing more of a dance than a art of war, flowing excellently he was able to strike points on both of the other combatants, forcing them out of the ring and earning both a technical win and a ring out.

"Well done, chaps. You should mind da footwork next time." The gunner spoke, softly, and the two company-grunts nodded, panting out of exhaustion and holding their shallow wounds on their arms and legs, wincing in pain.

Kuhn was clearing his blade on his sleeve when he looked to the horizon and saw the blue sails.

"Dis better be gud." He spoke, turning heel, tossing the blade into the ground, grabbing his gunbelt and coat from the chair next to him, tossing the coat around his arms and putting on the gunbelt, holding both the revolver and shotgun.

He was going to call on Chester, they might have yet another fight on their hands.

Macario nowhere in sight, Lina keeping low, Kuhn on his way, word sent out to Chester, the encroaching fleet made landfall. From each ship, over a score of blue suited men headed by leaders not wholly conforming to the usual dress code began to assemble. An aficionado with bounty's would recognize over half a dozen names, all under 10 million but feared in their own right. 'Bruiser' Boddy, 'Blue' Blaize, 'Wrecker' Roadan, Silfeed 'the Slimeball'. But among those others were ones that had not been quite recognized, yet the fact that they stood alongside one another meant that they were not to be overlooked: John John Johnsey, Kerbilia, Masquerade Doxeen, Lady Momo.

Oh this could be baaad, Lina worried fearfully. Keeping to herself, sword at hand if needed, she merely observed as they communicated with one another. A few goons scattered off, intent on something. For a moment Lina was prepared to go after one of them, but having some eyes at the ready didn't seem like a bad idea either. This was the hotspot as far as potentially risky opponents went, a couple goons wouldn't cause anyone any trouble.

After a bit of waiting, Lina let out a sigh of relief, Kuhn coming in, guns at his side. He wasn't alone but Kuhn had been the only thing Lina was relieved to see: Chester was as filthy and buzzed as ever. Though, even as Lina frowned, she quickly realized that his natural state was only a detriment some of the time.

The group of Azure Company Lieutenants facing off with Chester, Kuhn a few steps back, Lina only caught some of what they said, "Now...beaten Boss...we hence...defeat you or...waive that...you as leader!"

At that, the leaders all collectively bent the knee, or bowed in their own way. Just as Lina could faintly hear them, they, Chester, and Kuhn could likely hear Lina's faint "Ehhhhh!?" she'd burst out in response.

Kuhn had found Chester in a dark, dank den. The remnants of an inn. The sign had fallen off during the battle, or perhaps during the aftermath. Inside, the unconscious bodies of men wearing all banners, including that of the kingdom's soldiers, themselves. One could even find a fallen banner of the Balder knights, though. Even though Johannes had gathered all of his men, a few of them had left their tabards behind.
Kuhn opened the saloon two-way door, his spurs jangling as he walked in. The ginger haired young man scratched his cheek.

"Hello?" He asked, his voice echoing, a few grunts were heard from within.

"You in here, cap'n?" He said, louder, now, more grunts were heard followed by a quick
"Keep it down, I'm hungover" before someone turned around on the floor, falling back asleep. The gunner stepped over bodies, working his way into the back of the bar, into the storage room. The backroom was riddled with opened, and emptied kegs of alchol.

There, next to a tankard of beer, perhaps the last in the entire establishment, the blonde, bloodied pirate captain sat. He was so dry from drinking nothing but booze for the past few days that he looked husked out. Kuhn raised his eyes at him.

"Holy shit, Cap'n. You alive?!" The gunner shouted, and Chester mumbled something. Kuhn shook him and Chester was barely responding. Kuhn lifted him up a little, and steadied him against the edge of the barrel, turning around to go get him some water.

As Kuhn turned around, he heard the sound of Chester drinking, turning his heel again, the pirate captain was face-down in the barrel, gulping away, a few gulps, and he lifted the barrel up, tipping it with one hand like a giant glass. The gunner thought to intervene, but as Chester's skin began hydrating again, he thought better off it.

"That's really not how any of that's supposed to work."

Chester held up one finger to indicate he couldn't speak right now. He chugged the rest of the barrel and let out a loud, satisfied burp, that echoed through the entire bar, earning a few cries of mercy from the hungover patrons, who could smell the stench of the beer now, their stomach's turning.

Chester put the keg down, and looked at Kuhn.

"What's up?"

"Azure company backup. Ten ships, at least. Armed heavily. Might have a fight on our hands."

"I do like me a fight." Chester said, wiping his mouth. He put on his boot, jumping on one leg as he couldn't fit his foot into it. Kuhn cleared his through.

"It's the wrong foot. You've got da right boot on da left foot." Kuhn told him, snickering a little.

"Oh, woops." Chester said, jumping out of his other boot, checking that he got it right this time as he jumped with both feet into the boots. Chrome's boots were doing him well, still.

They walked down to the beach and saw the Azura crew pop onto the beach. Kuhn was stern, his hand resting above his revolver. Chester was nonchalant, a little excited to bust some heads.

Once they arrived, the leaders of each boat walked up to them, surrounding them in a semi-circle, and spoke in unison.

"Now that you have beaten the Boss, we henceforth must defeat you ourselves in one on one combat, or waive that right and recognize you as leader!" And they all started bowing, except for one, the one furtherst to the right, whom didn't see his mates, only looking at Chester. A knuckle-duster in his hand, he spoke up

"And therefor, we're gonna beat your as- wait wha- oh." As he too took a knee, and Chester had a big, shit-eating grin on his face.

Elder Momo, the current defacto leader looked up at Chester and spoke, solemnly.
"While the leadership of Cerulean was a great time, following you, Chester, shall be an even greater adventure. Your strength is undoubted, young one. And we will be your servants, as that is the company rule. Your coronoation shall be held as soon as possible, on this island, and then you shall tend to your duties as boss."

Chester didn't hear a word of it, he was too busy being stary-eyed, imagining himself on top of the world. Like, literally. Full classic-pirate getup, cutlass in his hand and his foot on the actual planet, small enough to look like a ball under his foot.

Kuhn joined in with Lina, questioning the logic behind any of this.

"Dis can only bode well." The gunner noted.

Rolling her pipe in her hand, Momo had a slight smile on her face. "Very well then. Laid out by Don Mono regarding the formation of the Four Color Companies, as leader of the Azure Company, you will have to take part in the yearly meets. Management of clerical tasks regarding the company will defer to your immediate subordinates to defer at your discretion. You will need to get in contact with the former Cerulean's men to organize the logistics, and also open up contract lines regarding the Blue-wide affairs of the organization, which include resource procurement, shipping, police and bodyguard detail, and subjugation of rebel groups in our territories. Contact will often involve direct dealings with your lieutenants. While generally we can manage ourselves, you will have to memorize our affairs and respond to any queries in the event we need to defer to you, any of the 42 of us throughout the Blue. Should you become involved with the affairs of another company then it would be best you better acquaint yourself with their structures and key members. Also..."

Lina was a fair distance away, not able to make anything specific out, but at the very least there was no fighting...

Chester fell asleep during Momo's monologue. She explained the inner-workings of the business, sitting down next to the Pirate. Whom was sitting with his legs crossed, a bubble popping out of his nose, only to get popped by his absent-minded hand grabbing a bottle and taking a swig.

"Do you understand, Boss Chester?" The older lady asked, and Chester kept sleeping. The lady repeated, and Kuhn lightly nudged Chester with his leg, making Chester open his eye up.

"That's... That's a lot to take in." The pirate mumbled. Kuhn cleared his throat.

"It's also... Really freaking stupid. And boring. You're boring me." He abruptly spoke, and the lieutenants all raised eyebrows at him. Boring him? How?

"Is this really what you guys do? Paperwork and talking? Where's the plundering, the crime?!" He asked, and one of the lieutenants piped up, he was pretty reserved in his style, donning a blue coat over a standard shirt and slacks combo.
"I'm Mars. Mars Mellow. And I've got a pretty mean racketering gig going on back on my island of Puffcream."

Chester blinked his eyes in disbelief. Both at the words said, and the names the man in blue before him had just spouted.
"You made that all up. Every last word." Chester said, promptly, and Mr. Mellow shook his head.

"No, this is our primary income. Racketeering, money loaning and tax-fraud."

"We pay tax?" Chester asked, a horrified look on his face. And Momo nodded, decisively.

"This is so DAMN BORING." Chester added, standing up.

"I quit." Chester demanded, exhaling sharply from his nose, and the liutenants all glared at him.
"You can't quit, you're the boss!" Momo said to him, trying to reason with him, and Chester shook his head.

"Not just that." He said, taking a step forward to Mars, ripping the sleeve off his blue coat from him.

"I am disbanding the azure company. You guys suck at being criminals and you give us pirates a bad word."

"You mean name, cap'n." Kuhn corrected him.

"A bad name." Chester said.

"So as my final act as boss of this sorry lot of goons, I disband you. Shoo. Go rob some old-ladies on your own." He said, trying to sho' them away. Momo laughed under her breath.

"Fufufu, you can't do that, Chester. You leave the company, and someone else will take your place as boss." She mentioned, and Chester dashed over to her, pushing his face into hers. Glaring at her. The lady flinched, but wasn't intimidated.

"I'm the strongest in the company. That means my might is right. And any of you who do not want to disband this fucking sorry excuse for a crew, are more than welcome to come and fight me."

"Just remember that I beat Cerulean." The pirate spoke, his words were cold and menacingly, and even Momo was taken a-back by it. Kuhn whistled in approval.

"Hmph! Very well then, we'll disband."

With those words, Momo left, heading off without a word to her peers. Confused and disappointed, the Azure Company lieutenants gradually dispersed over the course of the next few minutes. Knowing Chester was likely to head to the Grand Line, Momo had full intent to merely continue the organization, but her attempts to contact others after the fact were met with suspicion due to her departure from the Great Stag Archipelago. In an attempt to find a new leader, in fighting occurred, the next months lending to a chaotic battle with no clear winner, many Azure Company groups disbanding or shedding their colors and their ideals, as power didn't mean much if it could not create order. Losing their muscle, the rest of the Four Color Companies would similarly struggle, their fates unknowable in the coming times as their grasp on the affairs of the Blue continued to slip, perceptions fostered by their decisive loss at the Four Color Festival.

Letting out a sigh of relief as the Azure boats headed off, Lina slouched over the ship railing, relieved.

"Maybe we should move on already..."

The Great Horn Archipelago quieting down, dwindling back to the norm, the festival well and over, the poorly named Grog Crusaders would leave later that day with little word of their departure, even if the ripples of influence they left remained in the relative peace. A quiet, swift end to a loud and protracted battle.

---

"Hmmmm..."

"Hmm?"

A finger tapped on a writeup on the desk. "Hmm!"

"Hmmmm..."

The two soldiers, surrounded by desks in the heart of Marineford, hmmed and hmmmmmed. Their information was sparse on the mysterious Hero of Melonberry, allegedly called 'Chest'. As a pirate, Lieutenant Commander Condroy recognized that he should be marked for the crime of flying a pirate flag, but to be frank, aside from that, it didn't seem like he had done much wrong. While he had beaten Boss "Iron" Cerulean, a man worth 30 million, did that mean he was of a similar threat level to that mob boss known for his power? It's not like he was a particular menace. The picture taken of him, a close up up his head and upper torso, the man looking up at to the side of the frame with a dazed look on his face and some notable dirt on parts of his clothes and face, was said to be taken at the moment he was waking up from a drunken nap. Hardly threatening, really.

Scratching at his peach fuzz, the young Condroy looked up as he heard footsteps behind him. White Justice coat trailing behind him, jaw squared and clean shaven, Vice Admiral Trench, in his dark green suit leaned in with a smile, "Who's this?"

"Ah, he's called Chest or something, new bounty I'm trying to figure out. He hasn't even done an-" Condroy went quiet as he looked up to see his comrade go pale. Confused, he looked around, seeing Trench, someone he's only known to be a jovial sort, with a face gripped in raw derision. Large hand grasping Condroy by the back of his head, Trench forced him to look at the image.

"Is the Marine information network so bad that the file for this man didn't include that he's a former Marine?"

"N-no sir."

"Are you really struggling to determine how much of a heinous criminal such a traitor is for shedding a flag of blue and white for black?"

"But sir he hasn't done anyth-"

Condroy's words were interrupted by the splintering of wood as he was forced through his desk to the ground, the room rumbling from the impact. Lifting his hand, Trench spat, "Commanding Justice! Marines follow their orders, and those who can't aren't worth saving! Chester D. Arnold...no, just Chester Arnold. 50 million minimum!" Trench slowed his roll, looking to the terrified junior, then down to the unconscious Condroy. "Tell him when he wakes up. He can decide the epithet himself for all I care."

Storming from the office, Trench took to some of the halls before coming out to a balcony, the path looping around to another corner of the floor. Looking down over the structure of Marineford, he shook his head. What was once a great Marine base, while still serving as a hotspot and the center of Marine activity across the world, was filled with decay, empty and dilapidated structures they no longer had the funding or manpower to refurbish. Hacking out a glob of spit, it hurtled well out of sight on the way to the ground far below.

Not even a century of peace after a battle with no winner, and all Trench could think of was what had been lost.

SOUTH BLUE; SIX MONTHS AGO.

The Crimson Arachna was sailing the south blue seas, after a year in the grand line. The Man O' War was busted up, and the crew looked like nothing more but a cabin of ghosts and ghouls. Two thirds of the crew hadn't made the journey back to the blue, the ship had barely managed to hold up during the travels. The crew were all tired, depressed and lacking any kind of conviction to keep fighting at this point. All they wanted was rest and retirement. All of them but the two cabin boys. Two big-eyed lads whom they had picked up before cruising over the Reverse Mountain on their way into the grand line. The boys were named Hazel and Kaspar, and they had stars in their eyes.

"C'mon Kaspar! I see the port!" Hazel shouted, his blonde hair blowing in the wind as he stood on the bow, looking out. Kaspar leaned over, nervously eyeing the mold-infested railing Hazel was leaning against, worried that it would break at any moment. "Finally. A place to relax at." The ginger-haired boy confessed.

"Dude! Are you also tired? Did the geezers rub off on you?!" Hazel's energetic tone picked Kaspar up, who shook his head.
"Nah. But I need food. And water. And I've never been in the South Blue before."
"You think they have funny accents?" Hazel asked and Kaspar giggled. The boys were no older than 15, and in many ways were too young to be out on the seas like this. Too young to have dealt with the hardships of the Grand Line. Yet, they were loyal to their cause and more importantly, each other. Their captain, Erwin Goldstinger never fucked around. He was a tough man to serve under, especially as lowly cabin boys whom, to many pirates, were worth nothing more than dirt, and Erwin often treated the boys worse than the bugs that lived on the ship.

However, the cook, James Hook was the one who had practically raised the boys into pirates. He had taught them how to do every chore on the ship, and punished them when they were stupid kids by forcing them to do all of the ship's dishes for the month. And a vessel with hundreds of messy pirates, the dishes piled up incredibly fast. But Mr. Hook was worn out from the struggles of the Grand Line, too. They couldn't have prepared themselves for that kind of hardships, surely.

Hazel knew James was cooking down in the mess hall, he could smell his food and hear the tune he was humming. Kaspar joined in and soon both of them were whistling along and humming the melody that the cook was letting out. Salmon stew was on the menu, South Blue salmon, even. They had only been in the south blue one day, and they weren't used to eating food that wasn't made from poisonous fish.

The harbor of Rootport came into view and Kaspar looked up, seeing the sail tatter, he whistled for Hazel to pay attention, and the two boys sprang into action, running as quickly as they could to grab the rope that had come undone, while Hazel used his meat-hook to quickly climb the mast, tying the rotten rope back together, cutting it off on the one end where it was the most rotten, making a better knot. They needed provisions, that's for sure.

"We need new rope, man." Hazel said, mellowly, once he climbed down, and Kaspar nodded. Thinking of their vice-captain and Quartermaster, Evie. She hadn't made it back from the Grand-Line, sacrificing herself to cover their escape when the greatest threat the Tarantula Pirates had ever known came for them.

Terra.

A Man who's name would put fear into the hearts of any pirate.

SEVEN NAUTICAL MILES OUTSIDE OF PALETTE ISLAND, THE SEASHARK SHADOW-ROCK FORMATION.

The Hinnon Breeze was riding along swiftly on the waves. It was a good day for sailing. The skies were clear, the sun was shining and the wind was at their back. Their sails full and their spirits were well. That was, until the cowboy in the nest on top of the mast spotted something in the far distance with his eaglelike vision. Something coming closer to him.

“Oi! Everyone! We got incoming! Starboard side!” He yelled, as the others would pay attention to the galley on their side. The marine vessel belonging to the 41st unit. An auxiliary force of the marines patrolling the entrance into the Grand Line. In pirate-language, it’s what they call a ‘big fucking problem’. Lina poked her head out of the kitchen window, Macario from the door of his own vessel still leashed to the Breeze. “I guess there are still Marines in these parts, huh?”

“Ehhhh,” Lina mused, noting the size of the vessel, notably larger than the one they’d encountered a few weeks ago. However, she didn’t move from her spot, thinking little of it all and going back to work, while Macario, more cautious, hopped up onto the deck proper, keeping an eye out.

On the marine ship, the spotters had already gotten a bead on the Hinnon Breeze. The black flag on top of their mast alerted them that this was a hostile ship. And a pirate ship, nonetheless. Those didn’t come around here very often. The bored marines were all iching for a fight. That is, till one of the men in the secondary lookout nest noticed that there were no more than three or four people on the ship. That wasn’t much of a fight. The Marines let out a painfully bored sigh as they all reverted back to their non-combat positions.

All but one. The Captain of the ship, perched up in the highest lookout point of the vessel, her long gun positioned on the railing. She was kneeling to get onto the right height. Her scope seeing each of the three people on the ground, focusing on the blonde man. The new batch of bounty-orders had come in for the North Blue earlier that day, and the woman smirked as he could clearly see that the man she had in her scope was the 50 million-upstarting pirate and former Marine. Gemma Matrix hated deserters.

As the bullet would rip for Chester’s throat, Kuhn had spotted the glint from the scope, and leapt down onto the main deck, shouting for Chester to get down. The Captain ignored what the gunner told him, as the latter pushed him out of the way, the bullet ripping past him, grazing his shoulder as they both fell to the floor.

Kuhn rolled on the ground, to the side where his long rifle was propped. Grabbing it and very quickly taking a position on the mast. Loading in one of his special bullets, he fired at the sniper in the marine ship. The bullet exploded with a charge of TNT, blowing up the nest, the Marine Captain having gotten out of it right before impact, but lost her position.

“We've gotta fight on our hands!” Chester howled, excitedly. Not even caring that he had just narrowly escaped death. The Marines were all gearing up for battle as the ship turned around towards the Breeze, aiming to get into cannon range.

Rolling his shoulder, Macario muttered, “Guess Marines are Marines. Shoulda thought twice about shacking up with pirates but here we are.” From below there was some stomping, Lina’s light blue sundress rustling as she shouted, “What was that!? What did Chester do this time!?”

“No time to point blame” Kuhn shouted, as he moved his hand to indicate to Lina that she needed to get over here. Kuhn pulled off the Tarp covering the new cannon they had bought, as he glanced at the old one.

“It should still shoot with a little bit of fixing. Captain, Scholar, please fire this one. I’ll fix the other one. Lina, help me.” Kuhn told them. Lina went to help while Chester nodded in agreement… And confusion. He looked at the cannon, and then at Macario, then at the cannon, and then at the stack of cannonballs.

Macario frowned. “What is that look?” With the old cannon a bit further away on the deck, the two were out of earshot, especially as the ringing of cannons sounded out, Marines firing their test shots, still going wide, but each one alluding to the coming barrage as the Marine battleship began to approach, heading to cut off their path and preparing to sail side to side with the Breeze once it was closer.

Chester looked at the cannon, fiddling with it. Unable to figure out how to open it up to load the cannon into it. In fact, he couldn’t even figure out how to prep it to get the fuse lit. Not to mention such things as calibrating the aim. He glared at Macario. “Do… Do you know how?” He asked, sheepishly.

“Uhhhhhhh…” Macario murmured. “I’m gonna be honest, I know how to throw a punch but aside from that I’m definitely in the ‘make research papers, not war’ kind of camp.” The whistling of a cannonball coming particularly close, Macario raised a fist, but it merely impacted the water, the force shaking the boat. Flexing a hand, Macario said, “We might have to improvise.”

Chester grinned at the idea. “You’re not all bad, Mac.” Chester told him, as he grabbed a fistful of cannonball. “Watch this!” He growled as he threw the cannonball at an incoming one, the two exploding in the air.

Macario gawked. “Are you crazy!?” Tensing, he raised his fist, but while he did indeed have a ranged attack, it was no gun, not by a long shot. Mid range would be a more accurate descriptor: he could punch someone on the other side of a room, but now with this alternative in front of him, using it to block cannonballs was…

“Scoot over,” Macario said as he stepped forwards, snatching up a cannonball and holding at the ready. Eyes narrowing at a black spot growing as it got closer, he fired it off. Unfamiliar with throwing them and not possessing the same dumb luck as Chester, it went wide, so Macario reared back his fist. “Xun!” It was pretty close for comfort, but the cannonball exploded from Macario’s ranged punch, the explosion rocking the boat. He didn’t like having to use it, but even so, he had it in the wings if needed. Reaching over, he grabbed another cannonball. “Alright, it’s not that stupid…”

Chester grinned. “See, I told you! Genius! Watch this!” Chester joked, grabbing a ball, and pointing towards another one the marines had just fired, he twirled around and threw it with a motion starting from his back, hitting it mid-air. “Ka-boom!” He shouted as the two iron balls collided, exploding. “Let’ em have it, Macario!” The captain shouted, grabbing another two balls and chucking them at the marine ship, not quite making enough distance, as the larger vessel grew ever closer.

The two continued their cannon-less assault, but it could only go on for so long before they expended their store of ammo. Macario had been a bit more conservative with his use, meaning that reaching to find no cannonballs left him with a grumpy look on his face. Switching to the backup, a ranged fist knocked another cannonball out of the air, but with the ship encroaching, they were about to have to deal with way more. The sails were unfurled but Macario realized no one was manning the helm. “Oh shit!” He cried, scampering over to the wheel. Their course had been a bit erratic, guided by the waves, but only now did someone take hold of it. Eyes scanning the horizon he hadn’t spotted their destination quite yet, but it wasn’t a good time for that anyway so he merely kept the course evasive.

While Macario darted for the wheel, Chester picked up the slack, throwing cannonballs twice as fast, but half as accurately, with careless abandon that for his entire journey had been his signum. With his accelerated chucking of the iron balls, the carts that were loaded were quickly empty, and Chester realized he was out of ammo. And soon after he had, the marines began advancing, now that the hail of balls was over and the pirate vessel’s defenses were rendered inert they could safely sail towards the Breeze. Chester grabbed a bottle and took a swig, deciding to look for more cannonballs. He shouted at Macario.

“We’re out of ammo, I’m gonna look for more! Use your fist-stuff to knock out any incoming fire!” He yelled, disappearing under the deck as the marine cannon-fire once more ensued, now from closer range.

“Eh- Wha- buh- Muh-,” Macario stammered helplessly as Chester ducked out of sight. One arm on the wheel, as he spotted a cannonball headed their way, he jumped off, firing another Xun off before jumping back to the wheel. The ship’s movement was a bit erratic as a result, which assisted in evasion, somewhat, but as a result, their escape was staggered, the Breeze failing to make any headway in escaping the marine pursuit. Another cannonball sailing through the air, Macario’s jaw slowly dropped, matching its descent, when he noticed it was heading towards his ship. Sprinting away from the steering wheel, he was too late, an explosion splintering the wood of his cabin. Macario smelled smoke. “No no no no no no no no no n-” he shouted, hopping down, ripping his shirt off and soaking it in seawater to deal with the flames.

Emerging from below the deck, Chester came out yelling, carrying four, embroidered and engraved cannon balls under his arms, On each of them sat a note “DO NOT TOUCH - KUHN”, Chester, of course, touched. Loading it into the cannon up on the deck, he fired, missing the mark, horribly. The ball exploded into a pool of raw rum on the sea where it hit, several meters in front of where the Marine ship was.

Chester loaded the other into the cannon, but it was taking too long, so he decided to simply just throw the three of them, all at once. One hit the marines, taking out the very top of their mast, making screws and bolts fall onto them, the other contained some kind of sleeping gas and silver-misted gunpowder.

They were out of firepower and the marines were about to sink them. Up from the docks emerged Kuhn and Lina. The gunner was angry. Really angry. The other cannon didn’t work, he couldn’t fix it and he saw how close the marines were getting. Kuhn realized what Chester had done and his look went dark, walking up to the captain, his coat blowing in the wind as a cannonball whizzed past him, his fist clenched as it was pulled, like a trigger and with all of the ferocity of his firearm, his fist was planted into Chester’s jaw, making the captain stagger backwards.

“YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!” Kuhn yelled, Chester grinned, headbutting Kuhn in the nose and then hitting him in the chest, sending him back into the door down below the deck.
“You wanna fight, NOW?!” The captain asked, a little excited at the prospect to fight the gunslinger himself.

A smack resounding throughout the deck, it was as though the cannonfire was drowned out. A red mark on Chester’s face, Lina’s expression one of frustration, she lowered her hand, eyes rimmed with tears. “What are you doing!? We’re in danger right now!”

As if to punctuate matters, a cannonball exploded, rocking the deck of the Breeze. The three stumbled from the force, catching themselves to various degrees, Lina hopping on one foot as the deck rocked back to catch her other leg, Chester was still rubbing his red cheek, and Kuhn was too angry to come up from under the deck. Not before he could figure out a way to beat Chester to death with his revolver.. As the sound faded out, damage done, cries came from within the ship. “It hurts it HURTS!”

Hands gripping her sun hat, Lina grimaced, spouting, “We have to get out of here!”
Kuhn stayed under the deck, investigating the old cannon once more, as if he hoped he was wrong before. Looking it over, he realized a thing. It was loaded. Completely unfireable and it would, like he and Lina figured out before, take far too long to repair. But it was loaded. One cannonball.

He walked up the deck, iron-ball under his arm, Chester smiled upon seeing him “Aaay!” He yelled, Kuhn shrugged him off, his other hand resting on his revolver. “Let me save our assess. Man the helm, please. And after we’re safe, and da lady Lina is no longer in danger, you and me, Cap’n, are going to have a serious fucking discussion.” Kuhn warned, loading the cannon, the marine ship was now so close they could make out the faces of the people onboard, Kuhn being broken out of his anger for a second, upon seeing the strawberry-blonde hair of the woman from his past, standing on the mast of the ship. Jenna Matrix.

“Forgive me, mon ami.” He said, as he fired the cannon, straight into armory, where the gunpowder was kept on the marine ship, a series of explosions erupting, incapacitating the ship and making it block the path for the ships behind it. The Hinnon Breeze could sneak around the bend, and into safe harbor.

But another storm was brewing for the crew onboard. One born from within the ranks of the Breeze, and Chester was gonna feel the winds.