Smoker opened his eyes, head spinning. He had no idea where he was or where G5 had went off to. The last thing he remembered was barking orders to his subordinates before everything went black.

All he knew is that he was alone in a room. He was definitely on a ship, but was lying down a bed far too comfortable for it to belong to any kind of marine.

Even so, he seemed to be able to freely move around, his jitte lying on a bedside table. He wasn’t bound, there were no cuffs or chains in sight, and the door seemed to be unlocked. Just where was he?

He got up, hand instinctively reaching for his jitte as he opened the door.

He froze, his jaw dropping. He was on a pirate ship.

Perhaps even more concerning, nobody on board seemed bothered by his presence.

What was he supposed to do? Should he declare all of them under arrest? Should he rough them up and ask where their captain was?

It seemed he wouldn’t have to, as a crewmate walked up to him, giving him directions to the captains quarters where you resided.

Smoker burst through the door, composed and intimidating on the outside but still quite unsure how to handle a situation such as this one. Was he supposed to thank you for saving him? Never. You were a pirate, after all. Even worse, he’d probably have to ask you to drop him off somewhere, and he HATED being in debt to a pirate. It’s dishonorable for a marine.