Chapter 3: The Misfits
Year 1516 - Marineford, Personnel Records Division
The Records Division was buried three levels below Marineford's main structure—a labyrinth of filing cabinets, dusty archives, and the occasional Den Den Mushi terminal glowing in the dimness. It smelled of old paper and forgotten dreams.
Commodore Danzo Aiko had been here for six hours.
"Another one," he murmured, pulling a file from the cabinet marked "DISCIPLINARY ACTIONS - SUSPENDED."
The clerk who'd been assigned to assist him—a nervous Ensign named Tomas—peered over his shoulder. "Uh, Commodore? That's the fifty-third file you've reviewed. Most officers just recruit from the active duty roster..."
"Most officers aren't building the kind of crew I need." Aiko opened the file, his eyes scanning quickly. "I want Marines who think for themselves. Who question. Who've been punished for doing the right thing instead of the expedient thing."
"But sir, those Marines are suspended for a reason—"
"Yes. Usually the wrong reasons." Aiko's finger stopped on a particular passage. "Tell me, Ensign, what do you see when you read 'insubordination resulting in mission compromise'?"
Tomas read the file nervously. "I see... a Marine who refused orders?"
"I see a Marine who refused to burn down a village to smoke out three pirates." Aiko closed the file and added it to his growing stack. "Context matters. The official reports tell one story. The truth often tells another."
He'd learned that lesson the hard way.
The stack beside him contained twelve files so far. Twelve Marines who'd been sidelined, suspended, or assigned to dead-end posts because they'd chosen conscience over convenience. Some had refused illegal orders. Others had protected civilians when they were ordered not to. A few had simply asked too many questions about missions that didn't add up.
These were the people Aiko wanted on his crew.
"Sir?" Tomas ventured. "May I ask... why are you doing this? You could have any crew you wanted. Elite Marines, specialists, graduates from the top of their academy classes—"
"Because elite Marines follow orders without question," Aiko interrupted, not unkindly. "I need people who'll tell me when I'm wrong. Who'll stop me if I cross a line. The moment I surround myself with yes-men is the moment I become the kind of officer I killed two years ago."
Tomas went pale. "You... you're the one who—"
"Yes." Aiko met his eyes directly. "I killed Captain Veros of the 73rd Division for executing civilians. It's in my file, though the official report is sanitized. I tell you this because I want you to understand: I'm not looking for followers. I'm looking for people with spines."
The Ensign swallowed hard, then straightened. "Then... then you should look at Lieutenant Commander Isra Vex's file. She's in the women's division records. She was demoted and transferred to archives duty three years ago."
"Why?"
"She punched a Rear Admiral."
Aiko's eyebrow rose. "Grounds?"
"He was... taking liberties with junior female officers. Making inappropriate advances. When she reported it through proper channels and nothing happened, she handled it personally." Tomas actually smiled slightly. "Broke his jaw in three places. They couldn't court-martial her because then the Admiral's behavior would become public, so they just... buried her here."
"Show me her file."
FILE #3471-V: LIEUTENANT COMMANDER ISRA VEX
Age: 29Specialty: Hand-to-Hand Combat, Tactical AnalysisHaki: Armament (Advanced), Observation (Intermediate)Status: Suspended - Assigned to Archives DivisionNotes: Exceptional combat record. Recommended for Captain rank before incident. Considered "too aggressive" and "insubordinate" by review board.
Aiko studied the photo clipped to the file. A woman with sharp features, dark skin, and eyes that looked like they could cut through steel. Her stance in the picture was military-perfect, but there was something defiant in the set of her jaw.
"Where is she now?"
"Archives, Level Five. She's been cataloging old mission reports for three years."
"Take me to her."
Archives Level Five was even dustier than Level Three. Lieutenant Commander Isra Vex sat at a desk surrounded by towers of folders, her Marine uniform immaculate despite the environment. She didn't look up when Aiko and Tomas approached.
"If you're here to tell me about another thrilling filing project, save your breath," she said, her voice carrying a West Blue accent. "I'm already cataloging the riveting 1502 supply requisitions."
"I'm here to offer you a position on my crew," Aiko said simply.
That made her look up. Her eyes—sharp and amber-colored—studied him with the intensity of someone trained to assess threats.
"You're the Snow Demon. Danzo Aiko." Not a question. "Heard you got promoted to Commodore. Youngest one in twenty years. Impressive." Her tone suggested it was anything but. "And now you're slumming in the archives looking for... what? Redemption projects?"
"I'm looking for Lieutenant Commanders who aren't afraid to punch Rear Admirals when they deserve it."
Isra's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes. "You've read my file."
"Every word. Including the parts they tried to redact." Aiko pulled up a chair uninvited and sat across from her. "You had a ninety-three percent mission success rate. Saved four Marine units from annihilation during the Briss Kingdom conflict. Personally trained fifteen officers who went on to distinguished service. And you've spent three years filing paperwork because you chose to protect junior officers from a predator."
"Allegedly protect," Isra corrected dryly. "The official report says I assaulted a superior officer without provocation."
"The official report is bullshit, and we both know it."
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Careful, Commodore. That kind of talk could get you assigned to Level Six. That's where they keep the records from before the Void Century—completely empty, naturally, but someone has to watch the empty shelves."
"I'll take my chances." Aiko leaned forward. "I'm building a crew for a special task force. Autonomy, high-risk missions, and the authority to make decisions that headquarters won't always like. I need a second-in-command who isn't afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. Someone who'll stop me if I cross a line. Based on your record, you seem qualified."
Isra was quiet for a long moment, studying him with those sharp eyes. "Why me? Really. There are dozens of active-duty officers who'd kill for a position on a Commodore's crew."
"Because active-duty officers wouldn't have punched that Rear Admiral. They'd have filed a report, gone through channels, and when nothing happened, they'd have convinced themselves it wasn't their problem." Aiko's voice was quiet but firm. "You didn't. You saw something wrong and you acted, consequences be damned. That's the kind of officer I need beside me."
"And if I tell you to go to hell?"
"Then I'll respect your decision and find someone else. But I think three years of filing reports has been long enough, don't you?"
Isra looked down at the stack of folders on her desk, then back at Aiko. When she spoke, her voice was harder. "If I join your crew, I need one thing clear: I don't follow blind orders. I see something wrong, I speak up. If that's a problem—"
"It's a requirement," Aiko interrupted. "I'm not looking for yes-men."
Another long pause. Then Isra stood, brushing dust off her uniform.
"When do we leave?"
"Five days. We need to assemble the rest of the crew first." Aiko stood as well, extending his hand. "Welcome aboard, Commander Vex."
She shook it—her grip was iron. "Call me Isra. And for the record, Commodore? If you turn out to be another corrupt officer playing rebel, I'll punch you too."
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."
Over the next three days, Aiko and Isra—who proved invaluable in navigating Marineford's political landscape—recruited seven more Marines:
Lieutenant Koji "Hawkeye" Sato - A sniper with Observation Haki so refined he could hit targets three kilometers away. Suspended for refusing to fire on a ship of refugees fleeing a warzone. His file read "lacks killer instinct." Aiko read "has a conscience."
Ensign Maya Frost - A Devil Fruit user (Mist-Mist Fruit, Paramecia type) who could create obscuring fog. Demoted for helping civilians evacuate during a Marine operation that prioritized capturing pirates over protecting innocents. Twenty-two years old, idealistic, and angry at the system.
Chief Petty Officer Marcus "Wall" Stone - Built like a fortress, Armament Haki user specializing in defense. Suspended for physically blocking a Captain from executing surrendering pirates. His file said "insubordinate." Aiko saw "protective."
Lieutenant Yuki Nanami - A swordswoman with a slim build but devastating speed. She'd been transferred to training duties after questioning why a Rear Admiral's son received promotions despite poor performance. Her file mentioned "attitude problems." Aiko saw "refuses to accept nepotism."
Petty Officer First Class "Doc" Reiner Cross - A combat medic and former pirate hunter who'd joined the Marines seeking redemption. Suspended for treating wounded pirates against orders to let them die. In his fifties, scarred, world-weary, but still believing medicine should heal everyone.
Lieutenant Junior Grade Akira Chen - A navigator and cartographer who'd been shelved for refusing to falsify reports about civilian casualties in the South Blue. Brilliant mind, perfectionist, couldn't tolerate lies in official documents.
Ensign Tomás García - The clerk who'd helped Aiko in the archives. When he heard about the crew being assembled, he'd quietly asked to join. "I'm tired of filing away the careers of good Marines," he'd said. Aiko had tested his resolve with brutal honesty about the dangers, but Tomás held firm. He became their communications and logistics officer.
On the fifth day, Aiko stood in Marineford's harbor, looking at his new command: a Marine battleship slightly smaller than a Vice Admiral's flagship but still impressive. The ship had been decommissioned from active service after the previous Captain retired, and it needed a new name.
His crew stood assembled on the dock—nine Marines who'd been forgotten, sidelined, or punished for having principles. They looked at him with a mixture of hope, skepticism, and determination.
Isra stepped beside him. "They're waiting for a speech, Commodore."
"I'm not good at speeches."
"Then don't give one. Tell them the truth."
Aiko nodded and turned to face his crew.
"Most of you have been told you're failures," he began, his voice carrying clearly in the morning air. "That you're too idealistic. Too questioning. Too unwilling to follow orders blindly. The Marine brass looked at your files and saw problems."
He paused, meeting each person's eyes.
"I look at your files and see exactly what I need. You're Marines who chose conscience over career. Who protected the weak even when ordered not to. Who refused to compromise your values even when it cost you everything."
Snow began to fall lightly around them—an unconscious manifestation of Aiko's Devil Fruit responding to his emotion.
"I won't lie to you. This posting will be dangerous. We'll face pirates that would make normal Marines flee. We'll handle missions in moral gray areas. And sometimes, we might have to choose between our orders and what's right." His voice grew harder. "When that happens, I expect you to tell me. To question me. To stop me if I cross a line. I don't need followers. I need officers with spines."
Marcus "Wall" Stone spoke up, his deep voice rumbling. "And what happens when headquarters doesn't like our choices?"
"Then we face the consequences together," Aiko said simply. "I won't abandon you for doing the right thing. That's a promise."
Yuki Nanami raised her hand. "What's our mission, sir?"
"Sabaody Archipelago. There's a rogue Logia user operating there, and reports of Marines disappearing. We investigate, we identify, and if hostile, we neutralize. Standard operation."
"Nothing about this crew is standard, sir," Doc Reiner observed with a dry smile.
"No," Aiko agreed. "It's not. Which is exactly why we might actually accomplish something meaningful."
He turned back to the ship, then looked at Isra. "We need a name. Something that represents what we're trying to be."
Isra considered, then smiled slightly. "How about Hakusetsu? White Snow. It's clean, pure, and covers everything equally—no discrimination between noble and commoner, Marine and pirate. Just... justice without prejudice."
Aiko thought about that. His Devil Fruit was snow. His epithet was the White Death. But snow also represented new beginnings, clean slates, the possibility of starting fresh.
"Hakusetsu," he repeated. "I like it. Lieutenant Chen, file the name with harbor master."
"Yes sir!"
As the crew began boarding, preparing the ship for departure, Vice Admiral Garp appeared on the dock, hands in pockets, his usual irreverent grin in place.
"Quite a crew you've assembled, Commodore," Garp observed. "Bunch of misfits and troublemakers."
"The best kind, in my experience, sir."
Garp's grin widened. "You know, forty years ago, I was considered a troublemaker too. Refused to become an Admiral because I didn't want to protect the Celestial Dragons. Still gets brought up in meetings." He clapped Aiko on the shoulder—hard enough to stagger a normal person. "You've got good instincts, kid. Trust them. Even when everyone else tells you you're wrong."
"I will, sir."
"And Commodore? Watch your back on Sabaody. That place... it's where the darkness of the world comes to trade in broad daylight. Slave auctions, human trafficking, pirates and nobles rubbing shoulders. It'll test everything you believe about justice."
Aiko felt a chill that had nothing to do with his Devil Fruit. "Understood, sir."
As Garp walked away, Isra appeared at Aiko's side. "Ready, Commodore?"
Aiko looked at his ship, at his crew working together already—misfits and troublemakers who'd chosen principle over promotion. At the vast sea beyond Marineford's walls, where pirates sailed free and slaves were bought and sold like cattle.
"Ready," he confirmed. "Let's show them what justice actually looks like."
The Hakusetsu set sail thirty minutes later, its white sails catching the wind, its newly painted name gleaming in the sunlight. On the mast, the Marine symbol flew proudly, but somehow it looked different now—carried by Marines who questioned instead of obeying blindly.
As Marineford shrank behind them, Aiko stood at the helm, Isra beside him, and felt something he hadn't felt in years: hope.
Maybe they couldn't change the world.
But maybe they could change their small corner of it.
And sometimes, that was enough.
END OF CHAPTER 3
Next Chapter: "Sabaody Archipelago - Where Dreams and Nightmares Meet"