Chapter Text
"The problem with the Marines is that those that desire to be amongst their ranks are not correct for the position. And those that marines would love to have, that would fit in well with its structure and its goals, simply have no desire to join them.
"It has been said on more than one occasion that the perfect people for a job are smart enough to know how bad the job actually is. That the galaxy has seen the best Chancellors for the Republic live and die without ever holding political office because they understand that the cost of that position is far too great. That businesses desperately try and convince workers to rise up through the ranks but having seen the corruption that lays within the organization these men and women simply refuse. They are happy with where they are and do not see any reason to try and continue on through the ranks. There is a reason why the Neo Trade Federation was able to so easily surpass the original Trade Federation: with the fall of the TF the rebuild was done with the rot purged, allowing those with the skills to help make the Neo Trade Federation into something grand able to do so without problem or conflict that would have come before.
"The same is true for the Marines. When they were formed Grand Admiral Tarkin famously stated that they were seeking to create the most powerful fighting force that the galaxy had ever seen. In some ways this did come to pass. The marines certainly have at their disposal the largest pool of men and women to call upon, beating out even the Sons of Fett within a year of their creation. They also had more ships than any single pirate crew. This allowed the Marines to be able to hold vast sections of the known galaxy, with strongholds upon many sections of the Core and the Mid Rim.
"But where the marines failed in being the most powerful fighting force the galaxy had ever seen was in their discipline.
"Many men that joined and rose up through the marines did so for reasons that did not fit in with the desires of their creators. They saw the marines as a chance to have power and to gain wealth. The former came in the form of brutality and abuse of power. The latter was through corruption. And thus a systematic corruption began to form, like a wound that isn't cleaned properly so that even when it scabs over deep within the tissue the infection remains, moving deeper into the muscle, branching out until it is either remove the limb entirely or allow it to remain.
"This is not to say that there are not men and women within the Marines that deserve the title. There are plenty who have proven themselves, time and again, to be what the creators of the Marines wanted the organization to be. But sadly this is few and far between. And it takes a great strength of will to be able to withstand the organizational ineptitude and the, to be brutally honest, sleaze that exists within."
-Excerpt from "Killing Tarkin: How the Assassination of a Marine Changed the Galaxy", by Ginos Minul, 734 AOP
~MC~MC~MC~
12 Years, 3 Months, 19 Days AOP
Captain Firmus Piett had long understood his place in the marines.
He was the captain of the Star Destroyer Intrepid. Not the most decorated of the Star Destroyers but it got the job done. He had spent much of his career in the Mid Rim. And there were plenty that saw that as the worst section of the galaxy to be stationed.
The Core was where you went if you wanted to be safe. Those were the cushy jobs, where the ensigns and the like got to mostly just walk around with their blasters while they assumed that the citizens that were looking at them were trying to flirt while their commanders dined with local politicians who thanked them for protecting the system. Often they were the ones that were selected to talk to school children who wanted to hear tales of pirates and instead got vague stories about driving away suspicious ships before they were given buttons or yoyos to play with. The worst they had to deal with when it came to criminals were local problems; pirates sometimes, yes, but often it was just smugglers and the like that were trying to bring spices to the rich and powerful who outlawed the stuff in the name of family values before placing large orders for the goods.
Marines in the core worlds wore crisp uniforms and had the shiniest of blasters. They were teased for being too delicate to actually do much to help fight against the pirate menace. They would charge back that they were the final line of defense against the likes of Captain Kenobi or Hondo Ohnaka… then weeks later brag about attending a dinner where Mars himself was in attendance.
The Outer Rim was where you went if you wanted action. Other than the Unknown Regions it was the most dangerous of placements but also where a Marine could rapidly make a name for themselves. Where Emperors like Gentleman Dooku held more sway than the Chancellor and planets traded in the flags for their forefathers for the current pirate that had laid claim to their sector. Marines there scrapped by with what they had and saw the Laws of Engagement as a checklist of what NOT to do if you wanted to survive. They were the ones that, if they came to one of the Marine Games, would sweep all the physical contests with ease. They were the ones that jumped when someone suddenly burst into a room but wouldn't react if a bomb went off that shook a barracks.
Marines in the Outer Rim dressed much like how the ones in the Tales of the One Piece did. They would keep a hat or a coat but otherwise would dress like smugglers, wearing all sorts of strange outfits. Their weapons were more unique and had to be if they wanted to be able to take pirates out with surprise. They were mocked, though never to their faces, of being loose cannons that didn't want to obey the rules.
The Mid Rim was the worst of both worlds.
Because of how close it was to the Core Worlds, and thus the grand might of the Marines could be summoned at once, pirates didn't launch major offenses like they did in the Outer Rim. But it wasn't peaceful either, as plenty of pirates would try and nibble at the edges of the Mid Rim, wondering about just how much they could get away with. This meant that a Marine in the Mid Rim always had to be on guard but never fought in the grand battles that could make themselves a name. People trusted the marines more in the Mid Rim than they did in the Outer Rim but they weren't respectful like in the Core Worlds. Firmus had never gotten kisses and flowers when he arrived in a town like some marines in the Core claimed they got. But on the other hand the planets of the Mid Rim would not put up with any potential rule breaking and were rather quick to call up HQ to complain. For his part in the last year alone Firmus had been called in for 9 different meetings about his conduct; yes, nothing ever came of it and he could prove he was right. Sometimes he got an apology… or at least was informed that the records would be deleted and he could just go. But it was still a far cry from the Outer Rim where a Marine could shoot a man in the face while standing in a crowd and no one would see a thing.
Firmus though understood his role in the marines. He wasn't looking for glory and he wasn't looking for a life of ease. He wanted to serve, simple as that. To be able to make the Republic a safer place. If that meant he was in the Mid Rim then so be it. He would do his duty.
Blaster bolts fired over his head and he checked the power cartridge in his blaster; still full, so that was a small relief.
"Why are we even here!?" someone, he couldn't even tell who it was let alone their rank and which ship they belonged to, cried out. Draped across his lap was another man that he had refused to lessen his grip on even after Firmus had informed him that the marine was as good as dead thanks to the blaster bolt he'd taken to the belly. "They don't want us here! Why did we come here?"
"Get a hold of yourself, Marine!" Firmus shouted. Not because he was angry, though he was, but because it was the only way for him to be heard over all the explosions and blaster fire happening around him.
The other thing that Firmus understood, which tied into his role in the marines, was that even if he were a captain, even if he commanded men into battle, even if he had the ranks on his shoulders and the best quarters in the ship, there would always be someone else who told him what to do… and he had to do it.
The Vice Admirals all had the things that… well, some would say triggered them but Firmus had never been a fan of that word so he preferred the more simple 'upset' them. The small issues, the dumb ones, that would cause them to become distressed or frustrated or just make them lose sight of the big picture and become utterly locked into a single thing.
For Grand Admiral Tarkin that was Canto Bight.
Canto Bight.
It all came back to Canto Bight.
The great failure of the marines. Or, Firmus supposed, the continuous failure of the marines. They had moved to try and reclaim Canto Bight five times in the last few years and each time been met with failure. At first it had been the pirate alliance that had driven them back. While Mars held the planet and had placed it under his protection the other pirate crews that had joined in with taking the planet had seen its recapture by the Republic as a slight against their honor and thus were ready to defend it.
Tarkin's Great Offensive weeks after the capture of Canto Bight wasn't called that because it was some amazing campaign. No, many of the lower serving men said "Great Offensive" with derision because, to them, it was 'offensive' that so many marines had died thanks to Tarkin not thinking out his plan. It had already had issues, with many comparing it to using a hammer to try and scramble an egg. Too much force that would end up destroying everything, leaving them with the prize of a broken planet. Instead it had been like trying to fling a hammer at a swarm of Alderanian Sting Flies. The alliance had come at the marines from all angles and using methods that they simply had never expected.
'Who would have ever considered that they would use computer viruses?' Firmus thought, remembering some of the shellshocked veterans of the Great Offensive telling him of how the pirates had managed to down their ships by taking out their computer systems. Tales of men making it to escape pods only to find that they were malfunctioning thanks to whatever virus the pirates had used, forcing them to scramble to try and find another one, knowing that the clock was ticking and at any moment they might be engulfed in the inferno of an exploding ship. Of knowing there were men and women who hadn't been quick enough.
What made it all the worse was that the Great Offensive had been the closest they had gotten to taking back Canto Bight. The next four tries had ended in even greater failure. More credits wasted, more marines dead.
Tarkin though was obsessed with reclaiming Canto Bight. While Firmus hadn't met him when the marines were in their infancy many had said that while Tarkin liked to command with a heavy hand he was still a brilliant mind. That he understood the layout of the battlefield well. He was also charming; cold, yes, but still drew people to want to listen to him speak. But that time had long past and the Tarkin that had messaged Firmus a week earlier and commanded him to bring his ship to help with the Final Offensive to claim Canto Bight was a shadow of that great man.
'He knows his time is at an end,' Firmus thought to himself even as he looked about the muddy ground he was currently half sunk in for cover that was better than the downed fighter he was currently using. 'And now he's ending all of us.'
The new Chancellor wanted to put his mark on the Republic and the first step in doing that was shuffling things with the Marines. He did not have the same love of Tarkin that Palpatine had and Tarkin knew it. The Admirals and even some Vice Admirals were all shuffling about, waiting for the moment when they could make their pitch to replace him. The marines were being more daring in their attacks on the pirate strongholds and territories, hoping to bring glory to themselves.
And for Tarkin? Well, he thought the only way he would be able to continue on was by reclaiming Canto Bight.
'We can't even claim a moon,' he thought bitterly to himself as he heard someone scream out in pain.
Tarkin had decided that they would nibble away at Canto Bight. He had envisioned them arriving on the smaller settlements in the Cantian System and would be welcomed as heroes. The men and women that were freeing the oppressed and the downtrodden that had been forgotten by Canto Bight's leaders. That they could build up bases and slowly spread across the system until Canto Bight and its government were forced to recognize them as the true holders.
It was a foolish plan. Ill thought out and reckless. It didn't play to Tarkin's strengths at all, though to be fair his strengths hadn't helped him reclaim the planet. Tarkin had vastly misunderstood the situation and the citizens of the small moon, far from Canto Bight itself, had made him pay.
Firmus could see it still in his mind, crisp and clear. The citizens all bowing in silence as they had arrived. The marines tense but feeling like maybe, just maybe, they had finally gotten it right when it came to Canto Bight. That they had a chance for a victory. Tarkin had been all tight grins as he'd stepped to the town square and bid the moon's governor to stand. Welcomed them back into the Republic. That they were free at last and would never have to deal with the pirates again.
The Governor had nodded… then pulled out a blaster and shot Tarkin right in the stomach.
At once the bowing citizens had pulled out their own weapons. Revealing that under their cloaks were armor that could take a hit or two from a blaster; something the marines did not have despite Firmus suggesting during the planning that they bring with them. Tarkin had said that he would not be remembered during his grand victory wearing armor like a coward.
After that things had gone right into the pit.
All ability to follow orders had fallen apart. Marines had begun firing wildly in an attempt to find some way to deal with the attacking civilians. Firmus was sure that there had been plenty of friendly fire on their side. He had tried to order his own troops to gather together and make for a push but they had been lost to fear and madness and everything had fallen apart.
And now he was huddled behind a broken fighter craft, hoping that his enemies would run out of energy cartridges before he did. Which was a possibility considering that Firmus hadn't been able to get a shot off in the last five minutes because of the storm of blaster bolts that was filling the air.
"We're going to die," someone to his left wailed. "We're going to die!"
Firmus took a breath. Four seconds. That had been his trick to deal with situations like this all the time: pause for four seconds, gather himself, and then speak. For enemies it gave them time to rethink their actions. For allies it gave them a chance to rally and prepare for what was to come. Be it Firmus ordering a retreat or an attack those four seconds meant often life or death for those around him.
"We are going to begin pulling back," he said. "We can take off pieces of this fighter. Make it mobile shielding until we can get to the shuffle."
"We can't-"
"We will," he continued on. "I will not die here-"
Something whistled in the air and Firmus looked up just in time to see a grenade go flying over his head. It was almost lazy, the way that it tumbled through the air before finally landing about 20 feet behind their defensive line, landing in the mud with a wet plop.
The grenade, it seemed, also believed in waiting four seconds.
~MC~MC~MC~
As the ringing slowly faded away and Firmus was able to get some of his vision back his mind took stock of where he was at. And as it took stock he found himself pulling up information from the briefings that he had gotten from the scouts that had gone to survey the planet. Reports he knew for a fact many assumed no one actually read, based on the little in jokes that he had found within them.
'The moon was at one time considered to be too hostile for habitation due to the lack of water and the quakes that were quite common on it. But 120 years ago a scientist discovered that the quakes were actually a result of underground rivers that flowed only about 20 feet deep. He tapped into the rivers and siphoned them completely up to the surface. This had the result of not just making the planet's dusty surface become muddy, which proved the perfect growing fields for Tinu Beans, but also stabilizing the planet itself. The only negative that can be pointed to by environmentalists is that the underground rivers themselves no long exist and 9 species of blind fish were left to become extinct.'
It was one of those caverns, which had at one point been a great churning watershed for the underground river, that Firmus found himself having tumbled into when the bomb had gone off. He wasn't exactly for sure how he had managed to survive, as looking up he could see the drop must have been about 20 meters at minimum; honestly though that wasn't the worst he'd been in himself and walked away from. When he had been a boy he had taken a rough fall off a sled his massiff had been pulling, the last thing he remembered seeing before there had been darkness was a pipe coming right towards his head. When he had woken up the sled had been on top of him and Yinny had been licking his face, thinking nothing of what he had almost gone through.
"Focus," Firmus whispered to himself as he continued to look about the cavern. "That isn't going to help you at all."
The cavern rose up with tall straight walls before suddenly tapering. He could see the hole where he had fallen from but there was no hope of actually climbing up there. The river had polished the wall smooth and even if it had been rough and full of hand holds it would be been a hard climb because of how it curled back into itself; unless he had the best of climbing gear, which he did not, he'd never be able to get to that opening.
He'd walked the perimeter of the cavern and found only two paths leading out of it. But they didn't offer much hope. One plunged down and he really didn't want to walk that one as the light would be gone after about 10 to 20 meters. And he had no idea how quickly it would dive down; he remembered the scout reports saying that some of the tunnels went right into the moon's core. That was a place Firmus did NOT want to go.
The other path though had been a dead-end, quite literally. It had been nearly straight and level but after about 20 meters there had been a cave in. Firmus had tried to move some of the rocks but soon given up; there was simply no way of knowing how far back the cave in went or if it was safe to walk it. There could be another cave in or it could lead down just like the other tunnel.
He simply didn't know.
So now he was taking stock of the massive cavern, trying to figure out if it offered him anything that might aid him.
There were several ships that had fallen into the cavern, though it was hard to tell if they had been near him when the bomb had gone off or somehow fallen in well before he arrived. He had been warned in the reports that it was common for sinkholes to suddenly open up on the moon, swallowing up ships and buildings, only to suddenly close up again. The scouts had explained how the locals used anti grav tech to allow them to farm without fear but Firmus ignored all that; the only thing that mattered was the risk of the hole above him closing again, leaving him trpaped in darkness.
He needed to get out. He HAD to get out.
"Blasters... more blasters..." he muttered as he hurried through another one of the downed fighters. Each one he had entered he had tried to start up only to find that it simply refused to go. Sometimes there was a sputter, often times nothing at all. Missing bits and pieces and it drove him mad to know that he had probably everything he needed to actually escape... he just couldn't because he had no way to force the pieces together!
Others might have given up at that point. Found a ship to curl up in and just waited for death. Used one of the blasters on themselves. Firmus might still do that, if the hole closed and he found himself trapped in the dark cavern with no one knowing he had survived the blast. But not yet.
Not yet.
"There... must be some way,..." He muttered to himself as he moved to another ship. But he only got halfway there before he spotted something half buried in the mud. Something silver and shiny, just managing to catch the light.
Later, Firmus wouldn't be able to explain what made him decide to go digging up the cannister. It was just another piece of scrap in a whole mountain of scrap. And yet he had been drawn to it. Call it destiny. Call it fate. Call it the will of the bloody One Piece.
He had no idea.
He went to it all the same.
Opened it up… and stared at it in shock.
And while it didn't get him out (that would be thanks to him realizing he could boost one of the transponders using pieces of the ships and use that to send a message out to the fleet… though it did help him realize that was the way to secure his freedom) it did mean that nothing would ever be the same again.
~MC~MC~MC~
14 Years, 9 Months, 1 Day AOP
"Vice Admiral, are you sure you should be doing this on your own?"
Firmus Piett gave a slight smile as he adjusted his white dress uniform. Once more he found himself hiding behind a downed ship, but unlike with Tarkin's 6th attempt to take Canto Bight back now Firmus was in charge.
And he had a plan.
"These pirates clearly think that my record is merely an exaggeration. I am looking forward to showing them the error of their ways."
The Yujundo System was a Mid Rim world, though it was closer to the Outer Rim than the Core. It should have been protected from the more fierce pirate crews that desired nothing more than to cause pain and suffering. Perhaps though that was why the Gray Claw Pirates had decided that they could get away with slithering in and trying to turn the system into their new hunting ground: the fiercer pirates were busy dealing with Gentleman Dooku's latest offensive or being absorbed by the Four Fist Pirates.
The lack of major players and the distance from Coruscant made the Mid Rim a more tasty prize for the likes of the Gray Claw Pirates. Case in point: the Trandoshans. With the Ohnaka Fleet swearing to protect the Wookies and the mysterious disappearances of slave ships near the Endor System the normal Mid World planets for the Trandoshans to engage in their blood hunts were no longer safe for even their brutal desires. The Gray Claw Pirates didn't engage in the hunts themselves but rather helped flush out interesting prey for the Trandoshans and other species that longed for the thrill of the chase.
The Yunjundos were avian but had aquatic features. Their ability to take to the air in short bursts while also diving deep under the waves of their home world made them quite good at running and chasing and the ability to fight back against opponents with their taloned feet made them appealing to Trandoshans that longed for a more dangerous, and thus interesting, prey. The Yunjundian Government had asked the Republic to step in when reports had come that the Gray Claw Pirates were attacking their vessels, downing them so that the survivors could be hunted for sport.
Firmus had answered the call, for the Mid Rim was his domain now. And he had found that the Gray Claw Pirates were, indeed, working with the Trandoshans. The Lizards had fled when Firmus had arrived, knowing that they would have to answer for their crimes and it would be best to merely have been spotted than to be captured, but the Gray Claw Pirates had remained, managing to shoot down Firmus' shuttle.
A setback… but it had also allowed him to lure in their captain.
"Come out, marine!" Captain Ginus Glut called out. The heavy set Bynor let out a huff, the hair on either side of his neck billowing in frustration, before he lifted up his blaster. "I mean it… your men are surrounded! You will die here if you do not."
"How interesting," Firmus said with a bemused little smirk before he slowly stood up, hands held out to show that he wasn't going to try and fight. "You don't know who I am. I had thought you merely were dismissing me but you truly do not know."
"You're a marine," Glut retorted with a huff as Firmus continued towards him. "That's all I need to know."
"Not quite," Firmus said as he slowly pulled the hidden needle from his coat sleeve. "I… am Vice Admiral Firmus Piett."
"…the Dark Weaver?" one of Glut's officers said.
Firmus merely stared down the man. "Exactly."
Then, with a flick of his wrist, he shot out the needle.
At once his Devil fruit activated and thread formed around the needle. Glut cried out as the needle went through his arm but it wasn't pain that caused him to shout. Firmus knew from testing his fruit out on himself that it didn't hurt at all. He could stab someone right in the heart and it wouldn't even cause any discomfort.
But when it did do was allow the string he was creating to go through Glut's arm and into the chest of another pirate right behind him.
Firmus at once was on the move, throwing out several more needles which struck the surprised pirates. They found themselves pulled towards their companions, which allowed the Vice Admiral to sweep around them, grab his needles as they dangled from their bodies, and begin plunging them into various limbs.
The pirates cried out in shock as they were pulled together, limbs twisted at odd angles and smashed against thrashing bodies. The power of the Sew Sew Fruit worked so well for Firmus, as he had found that bringing in Pirates alive always netted him more attention from HQ. Not that he was looking for fame or the like. No… the bounties allowed him to get his men better gear and to upgrade his ship. Which, in turn, helped him better capture more pirates.
Win. Win.
Firmus paused and looked at the tangled mess of bodies before calling out that all was settled.
While he didn't revel in it… he had to admit he did enjoy the cheers he got from the people that emerged from their homes, knowing they were safe.
~MC~MC~MC~
"Piett lacks many things to make him truly a force that can reshape the galaxy. But the man has the fierceness of a rancor and the dedication of a wunibu. He is the kind of man that I am pleased to have on my side"
-Vice Admiral Thrawn
"There aren't many marines that I respect. But Piett? Yeah, that's a man I will tip my cap to."
-Captain Anakin Skywalker
AUTHOR'S NOTE!
No new chapter in two weeks... because on May the 4th I will be posting the May the Fourth Be With you special double size chapter "What Comes Next?"
Guys and gals... we're going to the original trilogy timeline!