Chapter Text
It was a warm night, filled with the cheers and singing of drunken pirates celebrating the return of their 4th division brothers. The Whitebeards did not need a reason to celebrate, and today was no different, using the excuse of the 4th division's return from a short departure to deal with some overzealous marines as a reason to pull out the alcohol and gorge themselves on food. Everyone had a drink in their hand and a smile on their face.
Even their youngest and newest member cheered loudly from the sidelines, stuffing his face with any food he could get his hands on. Today was an odd day for a certain Portgas D. Ace, however. There was a buzz in the air that kept the fire user from fully relaxing, opting to avoid drinking because the smell of alcohol made him nauseous and stuffing his face faster than normal to try and distract himself from the odd sense of anxiety. The feeling had started that morning when his brother and friend, Thatch, had first returned. He had made a big show of telling his adventures, obviously stretching the truth.
“You should have seen me! I was surrounded by 10, no, 20 high ranking marines, all armed to the teeth, ready to take my head in an instant! But they were no match for twin-blade Thatch! I took them out in an instant, even with my back to the wall!” The pompadour man had stood on a large storage crate, setting the scene as he mimed out his fight.
“There were 15 marines total. They didn’t even have a lieutenant!” Called out one of Thatch’s division members, causing everyone nearby to erupt in laughter. Thatch pouted that he had been called out, crossing his arms like a toddler.
“Come on, man, you’re ruining my moment! I can still make you clean the kitchen by yourself for the next month.” The head chef glared at his subordinate, who just rolled his eyes in turn.
“Oh, our great and mighty Thatch, he was oh so courageous.” The sarcasm bled heavily in the statement, causing more laughter to erupt.
“Whatever, jackass. There was one thing that I found that was quite interesting. Behold!” The chef pulled out a dark purple fruit from a satchel on his hip. The fruit was like nothing they had ever seen, with dark swirls and the off-toned colour; without a doubt, it was a Devil Fruit. In that instance, dizziness had hit Ace. He felt the world tilt like a great evil was approaching. The last time he had felt something like this was many years ago, when he was a young kid and even more of an idiot, and that feeling ended with one of his brothers being blown up by a celestial dragon. He felt sick as he whipped his head around looking for the danger, but all he saw was the clustering of his family, congratulating the 4th division commander on such a rare find.
“Are you going to eat it?” One of his many brothers had asked. Thatch observed the fruit and shrugged.
“I’m not sure, maybe. I am going to do some research first to make sure it isn’t something shitty, like a flaming blue turkey.” The very obvious jab drew the said “flaming blue turkey,” who appeared and smacked him in the back of the head.
“Watch it, yoi. Maybe you need to go for a little swim to clear that ego-filled head of yours, yoi.” Ace smiled up at the blond commander, feeling reassured that he was there. The chef waved his hands in apology, patting the 1st division commander’s shoulder in an overly friendly manner.
“H-hey now, none of that! I obviously wasn’t talking about you. Unless you are admitting to being a shitty flaming turkey?” Marco’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance, and Thatch just gave him a shit-eating grin. The blond gave the man a fake smile before promptly throwing him off the crate and over the ship railing. Much to his dismay, though, Thatch was quick to catch the railing.
“Oi! What did I do?! Asshole chicken!” Marco rolled his eyes as his brother struggled back up over the railing and onto the ship. A geisha-dressed man smacked the chef in the head.
“Stop provoking him. You haven’t even been back an hour, and this is how you’re acting?” The brunette pouted at the effeminate man, rubbing the bump on his head.
“Izou, not you too.” Everyone started to disperse after that, not wanting to see the two lovers during their play fight. Ace jumped as a hand brushed around his waist and pulled him close. He looked up at the blond commander with a smile, the taller man leaning down to brush their lips together.
“Morning, love. Are you feeling better?” The fire user’s stomach fluttered at the fond look in the man’s eyes. They had been dating for almost a year now, getting together only a few months after Ace officially joined.
“Yes, a lot better.” Ace had felt very ill that morning, throwing up minutes after starting breakfast. Marco had gotten incredibly concerned, having never seen the younger get sick before, and the suddenness of it was startling. Marco still looked worried, even though Ace had been reassuring him since the incident that he had felt fine right after. It probably was just a bad piece of food or something because the sick feeling was gone after a short nap.
“Are you sure you should be up right now, yoi? Maybe you should go back to bed. I am sure one of your division members can monitor the navigation path for today.” Ace just rolled his eyes fondly at the older man.
“Oh, you’re such a mother hen. I promise I am fine.” Marco was still not convinced, but before he could say anything else, he was getting tackled and put in a headlock by his best friend.
“I’m not done with you yet, bird brain!” And just like that, the two commanders, who were supposed to be leading by example, were wrestling on the deck like children. A booming laugh from their father and captain filled the air with their antics. The moment should have been happy; they all should have been celebrating, but a sharp voice of worry still gripped Ace's heart.
Now, Ace tried to eat away that feeling, shoving any food he could into his face, even if most of the food made his stomach roll. He scowled slightly at the feeling in his stomach. He had only been sick once in his life, but even then, he could still eat without a care. A hand slapped him on the back, and he almost fell over, choking on a piece of meat in his mouth. He whipped around and snapped at the assailant.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” The man of the hour blinked back in surprise, face flushed from alcohol and two mugs in hand.
“Whoa, there's a firecracker, woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something?” Thatch may have been drunk, but he sobered right up when his little brother snapped at him like that, eyes heated and teeth bared. Ace blinked a few times, surprised by his own outbursts.
“Wow, um, ok, I-I’m not sure what that was. Sorry, Thatch.” The fire user looked to the floor in embarrassment. He hadn’t snapped like that since he was first brought on the ship. Thatch was quick to let it go, though; he always was one for letting things slide.
“No worries at all, buddy! Didn’t mean to startle you. Now, why in the hell aren’t you drinking? We’re celebrating! Live a little!” The chef shoved a mug filled to the brim with some kind of alcoholic concoction at the younger male, and instantly Ace gagged from the potent smell, quickly shoving the drink back as he dry heaved. Thatch’s expression changed to worry as he started to really look over Ace, trying to see what was wrong.
“Ace, are you ok? You look a little pale. Let me go find Marco…” Thatch was already scanning the mass of people, but Ace stopped him.
“Oh no, I’m alright, he already knows that something's up. I think I just ate something that doesn't agree with my stomach.” Thatch looked even more alarmed at that.
“You ate something from MY kitchen that made you feel sick?” The chef was incredibly territorial about his kitchen; anything that came out of it needed to be of perfect quality, and the thought of someone getting sick from food that came from his kitchen lit a fire in him.
“Maybe? It could be something else.” Ace could see the burn of fury ignite behind the man’s eyes, and felt nervous that it was directed at him. The onyx-haired male tried to settle him down before he did something rash.
“Oh hell no, I will not stand for such a stain on my reputation. Ace, I swear on my life I will purge everything in my kitchen that could have even remotely made you ill! This kind of atrocity will never happen again!” The fire user looked at him in confusion at the theatrics. It was just a little food poisoning, nothing he couldn’t handle. Before Ace could stop the man, though, he was already marching towards a group across the deck.
“4th division chefs! Get your asses to the kitchen now!” Many heads were turning towards the chef, not used to hearing the man use his commanding voice. Several heads peeked up and looked at the man in surprise and slight worry as the individuals scurried to the kitchen under their commander's orders.
“Don’t worry, Ace! I will avenge your poor stomach!” Everyone who had been watching the commotion turned their attention to Ace, who felt his face quickly heat up at all the attention. Ace pulled his hat down to hide his blushing face, trying to remove himself from all the stares.
“What was that about, yoi?” The onyx-haired boy jumped again as Marco seemed to appear right next to him, raising an eyebrow at the boy’s jumpiness.
“O-oh, I just told him I may have gotten some food poisoning.” The phoenix made a noise of acknowledgement, taking a swig from his own drink.
“Ah, damn, I feel sorry for those guys. Thatch is going to tear them a new one, yoi.” Ace looked at the blond in surprise.
“Why? It's just some food poisoning, and it may not even be that.” Marco just shrugged.
“Thatch is quite prideful about what comes from his kitchen, so if someone is getting sick from the food that leaves it, he takes it as a personal insult, yoi.” Ace made a face of worry that Marco was able to read easily. “Don’t worry, he isn’t mad at you. In fact, he is probably going to be giving you special treatment for a while as an apology.” The onyx-haired boy let out a breath of air, exasperated by the brunette.
“I said I was fine…” Marco just hummed again, giving Ace an easy-going smile that pulled a soft smile from the boy’s own lips. The blond started to lean down, intending for a kiss, and Ace started to reach up to meet him, only to quickly shove him away, holding his nose. Marco looked at him, surprised and with mild hurt.
“Sorry, sorry, I just… It's the alcohol. I am going to throw up if I smell it again.” Marco’s mouth fell open slightly in understanding, backing up slightly to give the boy some room to breathe, concern written all over his face.
“Ace, why don’t we head to bed for the night, yoi. You’re not feeling well, and I sure as hell don’t want to be here if you’re not, so let's just turn in.” A large arm was suddenly thrown over Ace, a massive body slumping on him and almost knocking him over.
“WHAT?! Is Ace sick?! Ace! AAAAACCCCEEEE!” It took every ounce of strength the freckled boy had from hurling as his giant, and very drunk, brother, Jozu, basically threw himself on the boy, holding him like a kid with a toy. Marco scowled at the man, quickly ripping him off of Ace and kicking him away. Marco may have been smaller than the giant, but his strength matched, if not surpassed, that of the man. The freckled boy could only blink in surprise as he was suddenly being held in his partner’s arms.
“Asshole… That fucker has morning shift too, and he’s this drunk, yoi.” Marco scowled at the man who was now sprawled out on his back, still moaning out drunken cries. Ace felt a smile break across his face as an uncontrollable laugh took over him. The man holding him just looked down with a soft expression before joining in on the laugh.
“Alright, I think it’s time we get out of here, yoi.” Ace just nodded as he situated himself more in his lover’s arms. They received several catcalls as they walked across the deck, but they didn’t care; it's not like the crew hadn't seen this before.
The walk to their room was relatively peaceful, the sounds of the party getting muffled as they made their way below deck. Marco took them to what was once just his room, but over time became their shared living space. Each commander had a private room where each of their divisions was, but Ace didn’t like having to keep walking back and forth so far and had just started bringing more and more things into the Phoenix’s space, and Marco hadn’t stopped him. They didn’t know exactly when the room became their room, but they haven’t slept separately basically since they first got together. With skilled and practised movement, Marco was able to open the door and slide into the dark room, blue flames encasing his shoulders to illuminate the space as he placed Ace onto the large bed. Ace reached over to an oil lamp on the nightstand, letting a flame flicker on his fingertip to light the wick so the fire users could relax easily.
The two commanders lay together just basking in each other’s presence when Marco leaned in for a kiss again. Their lips were just a breath away when the smell hit Ace again, and he was shoving the love of his life away as he sprinted to the bathroom. The blond was quick to compose himself as he quickly followed after the boy. Ace heaved over the toilet as everything he had just eaten came up. Marco knelt beside him as he ran fingers through his hair, collecting the dark strands and holding them back and out of the fire user’s face.
“Jeez, firefly, if you didn’t want a kiss, you could have just said, yoi.” Ace shot the man a weak glare before a wet sob left him as another wave of vomiting came over him. He hated this, he felt awful, and it was maddening how violent the need to expel everything in him had gotten. Marco patiently waited beside him, rubbing his back and keeping his hair out of his face, whispering words of comfort. After several tense minutes, the nausea finally subsided, and there was nothing left in Ace’s stomach. Marco helped him lean back against the wall as he got up and got some water for the boy to rinse his mouth out.
“Are you feeling better, yoi?” The freckled boy just shrugged. He felt fine, it was just those moments that took so much out of him, and he suddenly became so ill.
“I’m feeling better, but can you please wash out your mouth? I can smell the alcohol from here.” Ace didn’t mean to sound as irritated as he did, but Marco just chuckled as he went to the sink to wash up. After several more minutes of just catching his breath, Ace joined the blond in getting ready as well, happily washing the taste of sickness from his mouth. Once back in bed, they cuddled close, Ace’s head on Marco’s chest, slowly drifting off to the sound of the man’s heart.
“Tomorrow I want you to come down to the med bay, yoi.” Ace groaned loudly at that, voicing his displeasure at the idea. “I know you hate it there, but you’ve been throwing up all day, and with your devil fruit, it’s hard to tell if you have a fever. I just want to run a few tests just to make sure you are ok.”
“Birdy, I swear it’s just food poisoning. I feel perfectly fine!” Ace lifted his head so he could look at the man. They both held each other’s gaze intensely, neither of them breaking from their stance. It was Ace who broke first, though; he couldn’t deny Marco for long.
“Fine, but no needles.” Marco pulled Ace closer, finally being able to bring their lips together.
“I promise I will do absolutely everything I can to only use needles as a very last resort, yoi.” The phoenix was always realistic with his medical practice, knowing that in the worst-case scenario, there may be a need for a shot. The freckled boy groaned loudly at the idea, dropping his head back to the blond’s chest with a pout. Marco just chuckled, running his fingers through his onyx hair.
“Get some sleep, love. You need the rest, yoi.” Ace grumbled something unintelligible in response. “I love you.” Ace turned back to look into deep blue eyes.
“I love you too.”
Ace woke up scorching hot. He threw off the blanket as he sat up, grabbing the water glass on the bedside table and chugging it down. He was drenched in sweat and panting heavily, scowling as the last drop of water dripped onto his tongue. Beside him, his lover slept peacefully, as though Ace wasn’t burning alive. What concerned Ace the most about this situation was that he didn’t really get hot anymore. His Devil Fruit made it so he could withstand extreme temperatures just fine, so he would have to be incredibly hot or cold to really feel anything. As he took deep breaths and woke up more, Ace could feel his temperature going down, feeling normal again. The soft snoring from the blond beside him made the fire user scowl, fucking bastard. The freckled boy got up from his spot on the bed, making his way to the bathroom to fill the glass of water up again and relieve himself.
Looking at the mirror, Ace grimaced at his appearance. He had massive bags under his eyes, and his cheeks looked sunken in, not to mention he was covered in sweat, and his hair was a horribly tangled mess. He groaned as he avoided eye contact with himself, quickly doing his business and splashing some water on his face. Maybe he really was getting sick. Making his way back to bed, the unsettling feeling hit him again, something that made his heart race and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He couldn’t lie back down; something felt wrong, and he needed to figure out what. As quietly as he could, he slipped his shoes on and made his way out the door, looking back at his partner to make sure he was still asleep. The fire user slipped out the door and closed it with a quiet click. The ship was dark and quiet now, everyone having gone to bed or passed out drunk somewhere. Ace lit a small fire in his palm, illuminating the dark, endless-looking hallway and began navigating his way to the deck.
It was too quiet now; he hated it when the ship got like this. He always felt so alone, and the voice that told him he was never enough was always at its loudest. Focusing on his breathing, Ace continued forward, finally making it to the deck. The sounds of the ship creaking and waves crashing against the hull soothed Ace slightly. The panic feeling dulled slightly as he made his way to the railing, looking out at the vast ocean. It was a new moon tonight, making the ocean and sky bleed together into nothing but a pitch-black, endless void. It was like he was in space, surrounded by stars, and any second he could just float away. The fiery man closed his eyes, feeling the cool breeze against his face, and then he heard it. A wet wheezing noise that made Ace’s stomach drop. His head snapped in the direction, catching the sight of a single flickering light off in the far corner behind a wooden wall. He didn’t think; his instincts took over as he sprinted in that direction. He rounded the corner of the back of the deck and slipped. Ace wasn’t able to catch himself as he lay on the ground, a wetness covering his side and hand, a sharp metallic scent in the air.
Red. Ace was lying in a pool of deep red liquid that dripped out from a dark figure in front of him, one with a very familiar pompadour. Ace stopped breathing, small dots of wetness sprinkling on his half-naked body as rain started to come down. A flash of lightning off in the distance, followed by a rumble of thunder, and Ace finally saw everything. Thatch lay motionless, his white chef’s outfit stained a dark crimson as blood gushed out of a large wound on his back. Ace’s entire world shifted as he lunged forward, instincts taking over as his hands slammed down and covered the spewing wound. There was a loud, earth-shattering noise, which he didn’t even realise was himself howling in anguish, his entire body seizing up as he screamed his lungs out. His friend, his brother, his family lay dead below him.
“You couldn’t even wait till morning, could you?” Ace’s head snapped so fast he felt something pop in his neck. A looming figure stood in the corner, holding a large round object with a bite taken out of it in one hand and a bloody dagger in the other. Another flash of lightning, and the freckled boy immediately knew who was with them.
“T-Teach! Get help! Quick!” Ace couldn’t even process why the man from his division was there; he hadn’t seen Teach at all since breakfast, and even then, it wasn’t like they had time to talk. All the freckled boy could think of was getting his friend help, and his other brother was right there. But why was he there? Why did Ace feel like he was in danger? Every instinct in Ace was screaming to run. Finally, the fire user was able to piece more things together. The knife, the bitten devil fruit, the smile. Teach took a step towards Ace with a predatory smile. In the distance, several sets of footsteps came pounding towards them.
“You did this.” It wasn’t a question; the blood splattered across the large man was more than enough evidence. Teach just laughed.
“Yes, but we don’t have time for that right now.” Ace barely had time to react, the massive man moved with speed the 2nd division commander had never seen from the man before. Ace was quicker, though, grabbing and twisting the knife out of Teach’s much larger hand. The fiery teen flipped the knife around, managing to swipe the tip across the large man’s arm, crouching over Thatch to protect his body.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Ace felt a burning hatred rage through his body. Now was not the time to ask why or to understand. All Ace knew was that he needed to kill his brother- no, this devil before any of his family could get hurt.
“Ace!” Relief flooded through Ace at the call of his lover, but he didn’t back down, poised and ready to strike the traitor down. Teach, with his back to Marco, had a wicked grin on his face, one that quickly turned to a false mask of panic.
“Commander! Help! Ace killed Thatch!” An electrical bolt of shock shot through Ace as he blinked in confusion.
“Wh-what- no, He-” Teach cut him off, yelling louder.
“He has the knife in his hand! He is covered in Commander Thatch’s blood!” Several more people appeared, commanders and crew alike, all surrounding and looking at Ace.
“No! No, that's not true! He did this!” Ace hastily pointed at Teach, and the man fell backwards, holding his bleeding arm as he scrambled back like a coward.
“He tried to kill me! You heard him!”
“Shut up!” Flames flickered across Ace’s shoulders as he seethed at the man, but suddenly his blood ran cold as his eyes met piercing blue ones. He couldn’t look away. Marco’s eyes filled with confusion, hurt, and… rage. Suddenly, Ace couldn’t breathe. Marco had never looked at him that way.
“M-Marco, please, he-” Ace was gripping the knife in his hand too tightly for anyone’s comfort. Teach continued screaming about how Ace was a traitor, how Thatch’s blood was on his hands. The freckled boy didn’t even get to finish his plea before Marco was moving with surgical precision, faster than the onyx-haired boy could keep up with, as a sharp and harsh blow landed on the back of Ace’s neck. The last thing Ace saw before he blacked out was the hate-filled eyes of the man who was his entire heart.
A clap of thunder woke Marco. Rolling over to pull his lover close to him, he was met with an empty bed, still warm. The phoenix frowned as he looked around the dark room, not sensing Ace near but assuming he must have just left since the bed was still warm from where he had been lying. Marco barely put his feet on the ground when he heard it. A blood-curdling scream from a voice that clutched at his soul. He didn’t even put on shoes as he flew through the halls, many doors being thrown open and following in his path, having heard the scream themselves. Rain was pouring down heavily when he made it on deck. A rage-filled voice broke through the downpour like a gun shot.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Marco was behind the wooden walls of the upper deck instantly, and what he saw made his stomach drop. The onyx-haired boy who held his heart looked like a feral beast, covered in crimson and blazing eyes of hate targeted on a large figure near Marco. Ace looked like a crazed monster with teeth bared and blood dripping off his form.
“Ace!” He called out to the man, and the tiny twinge of relief when he locked eyes with Marco was shattered at the next words from his brother.
“Commander! Help! Ace killed Thatch!” Everything froze. Time felt like it was moving too fast and not at all, and Marco’s ears started to ring. Killed Thatch? Ace Killed Thatch? Ace killed Thatch. Ace killed Thatch. There was blood and danger; Marco needed to get Ace to safety. No, Ace was the danger. That was his love standing there, fear written all over his face, but that was his brother’s blood dripping off him. Something took over Marco instantly; he couldn’t remember all that happened next, but he remembered a scared look on a boy who all of a sudden looked too young. The instincts of the first commander took over. The threat needed to be neutralised, so with a quick, calculated hit in the back of the neck, Ace was down. The look on his face broke something in Marco as he watched the betrayed and hurt look directed at him come from the love of his life. He caught the boy before he could fall and held him in his arms. He needed to see if he was injured. No, Ace wasn’t the injured one. He needed to protect Ace. No, Ace was the attacker. The battle in Marco’s mind was overwhelming as he fought with himself on what to do, clutching the boy tightly to his chest.
“Commander! Thatch is still breathing!” The blond’s head whipped in the direction of someone who was next to his best friend’s body, and with an immense struggle, Marco laid his lover on the bloodied floor and reached for his friend. Blue flames erupted around the chef’s body as Marco poured every ounce of his healing abilities into the man.
“Grab Ace!” The man was working on autopilot as he forced himself to focus everything he had on his limp brother. Marco knew that if he broke concentration for even a second, he would be back to clutching Ace tightly to himself. He cannot be feeling sympathy for a traitor. The second the blood stopped oozing out of the chef, the phoenix was quick to pick him up and sprint towards the medical bay, needing to operate immediately to securely close the wound in a way that his powers were unable to.
Several tense hours passed before Marco fell back into his office chair, blood-soaked and tired, but relieved by the weak but steady heart monitor beeping that was connected to his brother. Thatch had lost so much blood, and the wound tore straight through his back to his abdomen, slicing open every organ in the blade's path. He wanted to go to the shower, he wanted to go to bed, he wanted to find his lover and pull him close, clinging to his warm body as he listened to that young, beautiful heart beat, but he couldn’t. Time was a blur, but someone had informed him that Ace was in the brig, cuffed in seastone shackles and still knocked out. Marco ran a blood-crusted hand through his hair, uncaring of the mess as he swallowed the sob that tried to escape his throat. He couldn’t believe Ace had done this; he couldn’t have done this.
The freckled boy’s smiling face flashed in his mind, but it quickly shifted to the face of hurt and betrayal, of fear that Marco had been the cause of. Just that night, as he held the sleeping boy close in his arms, did he swear to always protect him, to protect that smile, that happiness, that love. Time meant nothing to the phoenix as he somehow found himself walking towards the one man who had always been there to guide him. Marco didn’t even bother knocking as he walked into the giant’s room, hazy eyes landing on the solemn face of his father. The blond was not young by any means, but in his father’s massive arms, he was reduced to a mere child once again. He didn’t cry; he couldn’t allow himself to cry, but his body still trembled with every emotion Marco forced himself to swallow down. Neither of them spoke for quite a long time.
“Thatch is in bad shape, but he’s alive, yoi.” Marco’s voice didn’t sound like his own when he delivered the news. He felt the giant captain heave a sigh of relief.
“That is good to hear.” The quiet returned, still heavy with grief and pain. “They found a rowboat with supplies off the side of the ship. Some of Ace’s things were in it.” Marco closed his eyes tightly at the news of Ace planning to escape. Questions immediately flooded his head about why he would do this, why he wasn’t escaping on Striker, why, why, why.
“Do you… Do you have any idea why he may have done this?” His father’s voice tried not to show any suspicion of his son, but Marco could still guess as to why it was there in the first place; he was, after all, the traitor’s lover.
“No, I don’t have the slightest idea, yoi.” There was so much pain in Marco’s voice that Whitebeard just held him a little tighter. After a long while of attempting to comfort each other, the giant father released his son, instructing him to clean himself up.
“In the morning, Teach will be leading the investigation. Do not seek out Ace.” Edward could sense how his son craved the onyx-haired boy’s presence, but he couldn’t risk his son’s judgment being clouded by potential manipulation. The phoenix didn’t turn to look at his father, just giving a short and quick nod as he exited the room. The storm had not lessened at all since it had started. Lightning was cracking across the sky, and thunder was booming in the gloomy silence that had taken over the ship.
What no one had noticed was how, amongst the chaos, a large black bearded figure had snuck into the shared room of the first and second commanders’ room and grabbed the youngest member's bag as well as whatever else he could get his hands on before throwing it on the row boat designated for someone else. No one noticed as the man smiled wickedly at the sleeping form of the imprisoned second division commander, and no one noticed the choice words a fake comrade said to be given free rein over the information extraction of the labelled traitor. After all, who wouldn’t believe the words of one of the original crew, who had never sought after power before? Who would think someone who constantly lazes around to be capable of such a thing? Nothing could stand in his way, especially as the only other person who knew the truth lay in a coma, each fragile breath threatening to be his last, and the truth itself edged closer to dying with him.