The Marine

Leaving the MCT building, Bill accepted his initial defeat but knew he hadn’t lost yet.

He had not expected the troubles Sasha and Ricky had faced at the Marineford Academy, nor that Sasha and Ricky would have been willing to accept Ranse as a superior officer – no matter how temporary the arrangement was planned to be.

The fact they had, either shown they had matured over the last couple years, or they had understated just how poorly things had been going.

From their story Bill couldn’t understand the motivation of the Marineford Academy, but either way, all that mean now was he had to convince Ranse and he’d get the whole group.

He wouldn’t count his chickens before they hatched but he had a good feeling about it. Ranse and Bill had always gotten along and as a kid he was the one Bill most related to.

Ranse was the one who Bill had most sparred with as Aramaki had trained them and most importantly, he was, after all, similar to Bill when he was a kid.

In fact, Ranse was the only person Bill had gotten a gift for, it was even a teasing one at that.

Feeling good about his prospects, Bill patted his chest and felt his gift then looking up at the sky he realized it was now about midday. He knew he had to get home as soon as possible but thought there was enough time.

So, from the fortresses second floor, he jumped in the air and headed around the mountain. On his way he had been spotted be several Marines, but they had either recognized him or his Captains coat and so there hadn’t been any alarm raised.

It didn’t take but a couple of minutes until Bill landed in front of Sheriff McGrew’s house, where he figured Ranse and Fia were staying.

Clearing his mind, Bill gave the door three moderate knocks, and it didn’t take long to hear feet shuffling behind the door.

Opening the door stood a nearly six-foot-tall bronze skinned girl wearing an apron.

“Bill?” Fia said, before continuing: “Come on in, Ranse and Mr. McGrew are in the living room.”

Nodding and then ducking his head slightly to get in the front door, Bill said thanks and watched as Fia went into the kitchen with Ranse’s mom.

“How are you, Mrs. McGrew?”

She was a small lady, no more than five feet high and slightly round, but upon seeing Bill she lit up and came walked over.

“Bill! You’re just in time! Fia and I were just about to make some lunch, should we prepare some for you too?”

Bending far down, Bill accepted Mrs. McGrew's hug and after thinking for a brief second decided to accept her offer.

“Well, that’s just fine, we’re glad to have you here young man.” Said the short rotund lady as she went back into the kitchen.

As Bill started his way to the living room Fia called out to him: “You still eat the same stuff?”

Turning his head with a smile, Bill said: “You know I’ve never turned your food down and I don’t plan starting today!”

This was not just flattery. Fia had worked in the kitchens as a Chore Boy since she was nine years old. She was twelve when she started helping the head chefs cook and by fourteen could run a shift herself preparing breakfast for eight hundred Marines.

If there was anything at all to say, it was that her job limited her to be very good at making a few dishes and having not much experience with others. Bread, leafy greens, eggs, sea king, and citrus desserts were her wheelhouse and with those ingredients she could feed an army.

She seemed to be pleased with his answer and turning around on her heels started chatting with Mrs. McGrew as Bill went forward.

“Bill, I thought I heard you out there!” Said a familiar looking face.

“Hey Ranse; how are you Mr. McGrew?”

Seeing Bill, the man didn’t stand but nodded and said: “We’re doing fine, sure are glad to see our boy home.”

Bill smiled to this and went to sit down.

There was a chair fitting for a nine-foot-tall person in the living room, perhaps added for his dad but Bill had never asked.

Without televisions, living rooms were essentially lounges and taking his seat he joined the conversation.

Ranse: “Bill, as I was telling my dad, the reason why pirates keep multiplying is that too many islands protect them.

I’ll tell you both a fact, the same merchant who complains about being robbed at sea is the very first merchant willing to purchase suspect goods.

These people are eating themselves for profit, and if things keep going this way, there won’t be single honest man left on the sea.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Mr. McGrew replied back: “There’s always been piracy, it’s impossible to avoid. What we need is to promote better ways of living. Most islands make more than enough to pay their tributes, for most the only excuse for being poor is laziness.

You don’t work, you don’t eat. That’s what your grandpa told me, and boy was he right in doing so.”

Bill kept silent and watched as Ranse shook his head.

“That’s not right, dad. I’ve seen myself the benefits to be had by being a criminal.

When the pirates do work, they probably work harder than most us Marines. The issue here is that you can have a pirate crew make one big score and then after they sell their stolen goods, they gain more Beli than what they would have made from half a lifetime of work.

Now, most of the time that doesn’t happen – because pirates are degenerates – but the fact is that if they didn’t squander their money, piracy is profitable.”

To this, the sheriff nodded thoughtfully and spoke before Bill could interject: “Degenerates is the key word. These people lack any sensibilities, and so they do what good for them and who cares about the rest.

As Grandpa said, you don’t work you don’t eat, and I have a mind to let all these pirates starve.”

While they spoke, Bill thought.

Surely moral fortitude was lacking in people who became pirates, but why was that morality lacking to begin with?

Ranse: “They wont just starve, and the numbers of pirates are increasing. So many people have turned to piracy you wouldn’t believe how many attack each other!

And as that happens, more and more islands are turning into dens where these people hock their stolen goods!

I’m telling you; the merchants are the ones who are really profiting and until the Marines find out a way to stop them this situation is just going to get worse.

They say we’re living in the ‘Golden Age of Pirates’ but what it really seems to be is the death of the legitimate trader.”

 Hearing the two speak, Bill recognized that both had points but from the history of his previous world knew there was more to it.

As Mr. McGrew started talking, Bill thought aloud as he looked into space:

“Do pirates lack morals? Yes

Do corrupt merchants make the situation worse by profiteering off their actions? Yes

Does this become a cycle… where… the more people lack morals the more people will adapt to that lifestyle? Yes”

Thinking this, Bill thought about the corrupt nations of his last world. Did he consider the corrupt politician who worked in a corrupt city a bad person?

Well, yes, he did.

Despite what he had learned about the personality spectrum from Vegapunk, he believed in free will, but that did call into question the situation these pirates had found themselves in.

“Going back to the first question, why do these people lack morals?” He said still looked off into space.

“It’s because they don’t have any prospects.

They’re Poor

They’re Ignorant

They’re Miserable

Pirates fight for treasure because they think that treasure will give them something they can’t get otherwise…”

Cutting his eyes towards Ranse and his father, Bill finally said: “They want a better life, plain and simple.

They don’t want to toil and see nothing for it, so they work towards a goal just like you said, Ranse! They even will outwork many Marines!

What the World Government should do is try and stimulate islands into growing for better futures.”

After saying this, Ranse looked at Bill strangely while Mr. McGrew huffed and replied: “So we forgive them because they’re poor?! I grew up poor and didn’t have to resort to robbing people!”

Shaking his head, Bill thought that perhaps the good Sheriff didn’t understand how lucky he had been to be born on Vallipo, so said simply: “No. People who break the law should be punished. At the end of the day, they know right from wrong.

But even if we can’t save everyone, we can make moves to reduce the future numbers of pirates. And that’s why I came here today.”

After this, Bill described to Ranse and his father what he had described to Ricky and Sasha.

He spoke about the Science Division his commission and the two largely asked the same questions the others did. It had been a long time and the food was about to be ready when Ranse finally asked: “Well, what do you plan to accomplish by establishing a lab and base?”

Looking at the two in front of him, Bill said simply: “Look at how the islands differ in terms of quality of life. I've basically only been to Marine harbors and the differences are outstanding!

So here the thing, I’m going to create a laboratory that sells things that will help end the tedious work so many people have to do just to live.”

Shaking his head, Ranse said: “I’ve seen those islands, but I don’t think they’ll have any Beli. That’s another thing those corrupt merchants are doing.”

Waving his hand to dismiss the thought, Bill replied: “They won’t have to pay in Beli. The first things we sell will be simple but practical and they can just pay in resources if that’s all they have, then we’ll turn those raw materials into better products that we can sell in the Allied Kingdoms for a high price.”

To this point, Mr. McGrew said seriously: “Can your commission actually allow that? You’re talking about using World Government resources to start a massive business!”

Bill: “Why not? The point of the Science Division is to make and sell innovations. I’ve checked and checked again, there is nothing limiting the types or quantity of products I sell, except for weapons.

But I don’t plan to make any weapons, so there’s no problem.”

Hearing this, Ranse seemed enthused but asked cautiously: “Bill, that seems like it’s going to take a lot of people… and you said yourself at most we’re only going to have the five of us.”

Nodding his head, Bill smiled widely: “That’s the thing.”

Then, pointing his finger up as he spoke, he continued: “That’s the kicker. Ranse, I found there are dozens of technological islands across the Blues and in the Grand Line.

I’m not saying it’s easy, but we just have to recruit them to work for us. I even know who we’re going to start with.”

By now, Bill could tell that Ranse had bought in, but he pressed: “What are you thinking of?”

Bill: “There’s an island in the East Blue, it’s famous for creating the ‘Diamond Clock.’ Now this clock is famed because it’s only needed to be wound once and that it’s never stopped since it was made.

It’s never even needed repairs!

And that’s the thing Ranse. We need durable, long lasting, and easily repaired products to trade to the poorer island. If we can get these things, we will be successful.

The place is called Clockwork Island, and I need you to help me get there.”

Ranse bought in to the offer on the spot and given his rank Bill could initiate the transfers himself.

Eating lunch, Ranse had mentioned to Fia that he was joining the Science Division and when he asked if she was coming the girl answered with a simple: “Yeah, sure. I can’t leave the Marines anyway.”

It was a good day, and as Bill left, he gave Ranse his gift.

Ranse: “What’s this?”

In his hands he held a rough looking star which had a faded outline of a ‘D’.

To his question Bill laughed and said: “That, my friend, is how I graduated with a top Metallurgy certificate.

It’s pure seastone, and it was supposed to say ‘Deputy’ but…” he said somewhat embarrassed “Pure seastone is pretty hard manufacture and engraving letters into it was way harder than I thought.”

Rolling his eyes, Ranse laughed and put the seastone star in his front coat pocket and slapped Bill on his arm.

“Well, thanks.

So, when are we shipping out?”

To this, Bill looked off into the distance and turned back.

“Three days from now we’ll be leaving first thing in the morning. Our flagship is called Frontier Run.

Don’t be late.”