Together in Balance

"You can stop pretending." Isaac sat beside the medical bay bed where Shaad was being held, fingers tapping as he looked down at the younger man with some mix of a sneer and amusement.

Shaad stirred only slightly, his own voice casual even as he pulled at his restraints. "Guess I'm not gonna catch ya off guard, eh," Shaad smirked, indicating the cuffs on his wrist as he added, "Seastone?"

"Devil Fruit or not, K'ron figured you were probably strong enough to break out of regular cuffs," Isaac calmly explained, standing up to again confirm the effectiveness of both the cuffs holding Shaad's arms above his head as well as the chains restraining his legs before continuing, "and seeing as this was a military ship, there were a few of these among the supplies."

Shaad remained still as Isaac, almost mockingly, pulled at the seastone cuffs wrapped around an impromptu stake at the bed's head and retook the nearby seat. Like it or not, he was trapped. And, struggling would only waste energy better served by other endeavours.

"Thank you for keeping a level head. There's a conversation that needs to be had, and it would go far more smoothly if we're both calm and honest with one another."

Briefly, Shaad considered conducting himself antagonistically. It wouldn't be totally dishonest to point out that he could probably manage a decent conversation with Isaac's corpse, but instead he opted against voicing that opinion. Isaac was the only one he hadn't figured out yet. Two of them were hotheads and the other was too absent to be relevant. "I'm listening," the captive captain ultimately said.

Isaac explained that they were now aware Raine was his and Vega's crewmate, not captive, and that she was suffering horribly. Throughout, Shaad listened with a raised eyebrow. He was particularly wary when Isaac said they were going to drop him and his crew off at an island where they could get her some medical help.

Shaad fidgeted, testing his restraints while appearing to make himself marginally more comfortable. He couldn't break seastone, but if he could slip free of the stake, Isaac would be a fine hostage. That line of thought didn't go far, though, as Isaac caught his eyes with a hard glare.

"Your partner Raine is innocent here," the older Isaac spoke with a hard resoluteness. "But, if you keep plotting your escape, I'll be hard pressed to justify the trouble you've already caused any longer."

Searching Isaac's gaze for some uncertainty or thread he could pull, Shaad found none. For whatever faults may have been glimpsed earlier, it was clear attributing them to the young man Shaad now faced would be a critical misjudgment. "And, what of my other friend," Shaad asked as he settled in. "Your C.O. decide he wasn't worth it?"

"C.O.?" Isaac looked puzzled before the pieces soon fell in place. "Your third's in the brig. All of you will be dropped off at Sihar as I said before; we're pirates not a military unit."

Isaac was either the best liar Shaad had ever met or was being entirely honest, prompting the restrained rookie to ask, "Why? You obviously have some idea who we are, and it's not like we're friendly, so why help us? Why not just turn us in?"

"Differing reasons, but I can say that was never a consideration. As for why we'd help you? I don't believe you're a bad person." Shaad almost laughed out loud at that. In the days that followed, he found himself in a few more 'laughable' situations.

This certainly applied. Standing in front of Vega - the masked man locked in a cell - Shaad couldn't keep the humorless smirk off his lips. "This brings back memories, doesn't it? At least this time, if we fight, neither of us will have our weapons. Though I don't particularly like my chances of beating you with my hands behind my back." Shaad coughed up a dry scoff as he showed his bonds to Vega. "One of them, maybe. But, not you. Anyway, they're gonna let you out of there and move you to the infirmary. Just go along with it. Cuffs and shackles are non-negotiable, apparently. . . You know, I'm almost offended they seem to think you're more dangerous than me," the captain ended, noting his own lack of shackles. "Bottom line, settle in. We've still got a few more days before Sihar, and I need you healed up for that."

Turns out, some down time was useful. While Shaad couldn't completely relax, it was good for him not to need to stay abreast and ahead of every scenario. Meanwhile, Vega didn't have to stay moving for the first time in a long time. While each of them worried for Raine in their own way, Vega would never speak of how much he'd needed to let his body simply recover and Shaad threw himself into his meditations, sharpening his senses and strengthening the connection between body and mind.

A clearer head served him well in a myriad of ways. Information that he'd let slip by in the stress and rage-fueled plotting of their earlier encounters now came back with renewed relevancy. Berret, who he'd assumed to be the leader based on the connection between the flag flying above the ship and his military dress, clearly wasn't in any position of command though his sharp features did indicate some connection to that annoying commander he'd fought in the Namijima Forest. In fact, Isaac seemed to be the most clear set leader as well as the most level-headed of them but K'ron was the only one to take action without looking to someone else for confirmation. At the same time, the others put on airs almost subconsciously with the constant empty threats of killing/executing Vega or himself. Their actions not only told of people who'd never taken a life, but were good enough to not do it in situations where lesser men or women would be unable to avoid doing so.

Jin Sun was the only outlier. That man was skilled and deliberate, but uncaring. He had the eyes of someone who'd killed, not for lack of better options or because he enjoyed it, but simply because it was the simplest thing at the time. Most disturbing, though, was that he felt vaguely familiar, like someone he'd only briefly crossed paths with but not interacted.

Still, Shaad's newfound clarity most revealed itself in the implacable calm with which he responded to a sudden storm, the likes of which he hadn't run into since setting off on this new adventure. He knew he was out of his element and lacked control, but instead of fighting against those realities or lashing out in some way, he was at peace with the world in the state at which he faced it. He would do what he could do, accept the result of that which he could not control, and constantly strive to set up for himself the most advantageous future possible. Just as his martial instructor had directed in his first lesson just over a decade earlier; he'd failed that lesson in spectacular fashion, he found himself fondly remembering. Even if their personalities differed a great deal, he was still his father's son.

The time for introspection, however, came and went quickly as Isaac released Shaad from the cuffs so he could help their efforts and, for the first time in a while, Shaad felt the fresh surge of energy and power from his Devil Fruit overflowing. Combatting the waves and wind amidst the lightning and swirling downpour was frantic and heart pounding, if not entirely difficult, work.

Amidst the heavy rains exploding on the ship deck like so many small cannon blasts, the crew was already rushing all around when Shaad came topside: K'ron fumbling with the rigging while Berret made sure everything was secure below deck. Jin Sun manned the wheel, his usually unreadable expression marred by the effort required to keep the ship afloat and free of the unforgiving, unrelenting grasps of powerful currents.

"Sun, hold that wheel! We drift any further, that hurricane 'll rip us in two!"

"I pull any harder, the steering column snaps," came the gritted reply, prefacing an unbidden recollection in Shaad of the punch that sent K'ron flying.

Isaac missed the wince that memory brought about in their uninvited guest, distracted by his own musings for how to get out of this terrible storm. Soon after, a violent lurching put Shaad and Isaac off-balance while K'ron was brought crashing down from the crosstree, a pained cough muffled in the whipping winds. Seconds later a ragged and panting Barrett stumbled through the entranceway from below deck.

"Okay. . . E'erything not already bolted is tied down. . . That won't matter if we capsize, though."

"Hold her steady, Sun!"

"Need helmsman," was the simplistic, muted response.

Isaac evaluated the bleak circumstances with a growing sense of angst and frustration. Sure, he'd read about the occurrence of 'flash storms' here in the Grand Line. The phenomena were by no means common, but they weren't exceptionally rare either what with Grand Line weather being known for its penchant to turn on a dime in the eyes of those untrained in recognizing the signs. It was just Isaac's luck, though, that they'd found themselves caught up in a particularly nasty storm this close to a whirlpool and without a Log Pose.

No ideas seemed forthcoming in which the ship survived, and given the pulling force of the current, Isaac presumed a nearby riptide. He'd released Shaad to help, but more manpower was useless if the ship couldn't make it anyway. And, with a broken or fractured steering column, it never would.

So lost in his own inadequate musings was he, Isaac practically jumped from his skin when Shaad roughly nudged his shoulder. "Hey! Isaac; I said I might have an idea to change our course, but, somebody's gonna have to save me before I drown." Isaac's raised eyebrow prompted further details, and Shaad obliged, simply stating, "I'm gonna push the ship."

Moments passed with the raging winds and pounding storms as the only sounds before a look of recognition and inspiration flashed across Isaac's sullen expression. A smile cracked through the deep frown before a pair of large, lustrous feathered white wings spread from Isaac's back, stretching to fill length with a couple of experimental flaps. "If you can really push the ship, I'll make sure you get back on board."

Shaad pulled back the half-smirk he'd let show, nodding in satisfaction at Isaac. "Gimme a few minutes, and I'll be ready."

"How's five?"

"Perfect."

"Perfect. . . Sun, hold out just a little longer. Isaac, I need a full battery from the cannons on the starboard side and keep it coming. There's an extra pair of hands in the med bay; use 'em," Isaac instructed, tossing the keys to Vega's cuffs to the gunman. "And, K'ron, get that ass in gear. You need to lighten this ship."

K'ron simply rolled over to his stomach at the instruction, leveling a blank gaze at Isaac before it was overtaken by a wide, wolfish grin. "You're trying to kill me," he declared with every bit of the illicit anticipation Isaac had come to expect from the brawler.

Shaad took the sparse time to meditate. The pelting rain was stingingly dissimilar to sitting under a waterfall, but it merely made him focus more intently. Still, even if he had been lauded as somewhat of a prodigy in reaching the state of 'balance', he was still very much a novice in how frustratingly fragile that 'balance' was. It was due to his lack of skill in that area that Isaac's screeching yell and shoulder push shook him more than a high pitched whistle amplified through a megaphone during morning prayers as he was hurried to do his part in their gambit.

Secured by what leather strips and rope could be spared, Shaad felt no small amount of trepidation as the suspender like bands of rope were pulled taut and his feet left the deck with unfamiliar slowness. There was no time to show what he felt, though. There was a job to do, and Shaad needed his energies focused and free flowing to do it.

Brought to the side of the ship, violently lapping waves crashing below his unsupported feet, Shaad brought his hands together as if in prayer, fingers touching in a kite or spade like shape.

"Full Burst!" With a couple of deep, measured breaths, the young captain pulled his arms back and channeled his energy into a dual palm thrust. The monk from whom he'd learned meditation and hand-to-hand had taught Shaad that open palms transferred force and closed fists channeled power yet a part of him still expected to see the tell tale signs of damage blown into the ship; he'd always had a proclivity for destruction over technique. Shaad had never tried pushing a ship before and thus had no idea what to expect, but watching the heavy vessel turn ever so slightly, he couldn't help but to be surprised by how effective it was.

Still, he needed more: a sustained push. "Get me closer," Shaad implored over the howling winds. As he dangled from the ropes that served as a harness, close enough that his cheek pressed against the side of the ship, he flattened his palms gingerly, almost reverentially, against the smooth wood.

"Strength Boost 3!" Strength empowered through speed had had its chance. Now, pure sustained strength pressed for opportunity as Shaad gave his all to divert the mid-size schooner.

Isaac's smile stretched from ear to ear watching the ship turn, Shaad too thankful that he hadn't talked himself into using more and splintering both his arms in seconds focused on keeping an increasingly tenuous balance to do what he said he could. Still, the younger pirate became aware that his plan was working as his arms extended forward from his chest, allowing his chest to expand with each desperate breath until at last. . . he could breathe easy. Or, at least easier.