Baterilla represented a warm and sunny place in the heart of most people. To Ozark though, it felt more like a prison. It'd been two years since she first set foot on the island. She hadn't been expecting to stay that long, but that's what fate transpired into. The Marines informed her that they would reach her when they had information of the pirates she sought, but it was never supposed to have taken this long. It was as if they had forgotten about the Kuja and left her to her own idleness with the Marines on the dull island. Having graduated the training facility of the island, however, she hoped to be picked up by any passing Marine corp but none would have her. Excuses always came—“Only a man will do for this crew.” “I heard these Kuja were always savages.” “This ability of yours seems unnatural!” The ability, of course, was haki, something Blue Sea marines never seemed to understand.

That day, in the island's Marine facilities, Ozark watched the new recruits spar on a thick blue mat in the training room. Despite all the people sparring and watching in the room, she had a way to stand out. She wore her regular red suit, for instance, after obtaining the rank of petty officer. The rank, however, was practically something just thrown at her to keep her content as if she cared for ranking. It did little to change the rut she was in after all. There was also the axe she carried around on her back wherever she went. Marines weren't required to carry their weapons with them while in the facility, but going far from her family's personal weapon seemed unthinkable. The attention it garnered was much less flattering than the red attire she suited. People, often civilians and recruits on the island, often found themselves intimidated by it.

She was leaned back against the wall, never once considering sparring with anyone there. It was always clear the greenhorn Marines could never stand up to her, a woman who grew up as a warrior since the age of six. Once the recruits grew strong enough to face her though, they always left the island to wherever they were assigned, leaving Ozark to bitterly sulk on the island. If were not bad enough that Ozark waited endlessly for word of the whereabouts of her targets, she did so in boredom. It was pretty obvious that the Kuja did not enjoy her surroundings either. Her hawk-like eyes brooded with a sour expression. A simpleton might even assume she'd roar at anyone who came near her. It had nothing to do with the smell of sweat or the overly heated room, but it had everything to do with disappointment and malcontent at how little she had managed to achieve in the past two years.

To calm herself, as she always did, she retreated to a social lounge in the Marine facility. She picked up her idle axe from the wall and latched it into its sheath on her back headed out the large doubledoors. As the sound of fighting in the sparring room grew more faint, the sound of her clacking heels echoed ever more through the dull, gray hallways. The boring infrastructure only seemed to make her feel worse though. She tried not to think on it.

When she reached the lounge, she entered to find it completely devoid of life. Its gray walls and gray floor made it seem just as dreary and hopeless as Ozark's circumstances, but she reached for a white cord on the window and tugged to allow a beam of light in. With the sun setting, the light seemed faint but its strength just enough to distract Ozark from grim reality. The swishing of the tide sounded like a sweet tune in reminding her of the beaches of Amazon Lily. Truly, for a moment, she felt forgot where she was in the nostalgia. But then, she remembered where she was, and she wanted to leave once again.

A sound, a man's voice, creeped into Ozark's ear and broke the somber silence. With the Kuja forced out of her daydream, she turned to face the room's new company. Her body blocked the path of light in the window from reaching the opening of the door, but she could see the two figures clearly.

One, the most notable of the two, stood much taller than Ozark. It was a very rare thing for her to see outside of Amazon Lily. In fact, even the taller ones of the Island of Women did not reach that man's height. It might have been intimidating in a tenser situation. Then again, there were many more sinister parts to the man's being. The dark rings of his eyes, for instance, told something unsettling. There certainly had to be a good story to this man.

The other man posed as average in the height department, but he certainly had an oddity to him as well. Apart from his scrawny (if not sickly) fram, he word what Ozark could only guess to be an iron mask on his face. She supposed he must have been horribly wounded to hide his face, but the beautiful flowing hair told something different. It was very odd.

The two man shared just one visual thing in common and it was their dark suits. Suits like those were not a common site at that particular Marine base, so it drew Ozark's curiosity.. The two almost looked like classy devils prepared to make a Faustian bargain. And so, the curiosity turned into suspicion.

“Hello...” She spoke lowly, but the quiet room carried her voice well enough. As her awareness grew, however, she crossed her arms to give off her usual air of confidence. When the suspicion in her body language died down in a moment, she almost seemed tense. Had she known the ranking of the two men, she might have returned her greeting with a salute. Instead, she gave looked them over once more and followed up with, “Are you two lost? Is there something you need?”

Ozark didn't say it out loud but her brow made it clear she wanted to ask so much more. She had never seen the two before, so they were obviously from a much different place. Were they Marines? It seemed hard for her to believe the smaller of the two had ever seen combat. And what's with their... peculiar appearances? The dark-haired one came off as particularly unnerving despite presenting no immediate danger, though she tried to match it with her own dagger-like stare lest she be taken advantage of.

Ozark's interest rose up higher at the mention of the ranks of the two men. She could not decipher what “agent” meant but keeping the company of a Marine captain certainly hinted at someone higher up the ladder than her. Retaining formalities, she straightened her posture erectly and let her arms rest to the side, chin up. She did every thing short of salute, if only to not embarrass the two. They seemed somewhat casual after all, with the captain taking a seat the other leaning like a bored schoolboy. Regardless, she tried herself with a professional introduction.

“Petty Officer Ozark.” No name or rank had been asked, but she felt it proper to respond to superiors in such manner. It was clear the tone had shifted though, with Ozark's voice growing from suspicion to attention. That changed with the follow up question. Indeed, Ozark grew a slight smirk that shined a confidence at heart. She almost looked like a mother being asked about her children.

“To stand on my feet and fight is my livelihood, sirs. Almost since I could walk, there has been no greater pride in the world than what I possess as a warrior.” A glint could be seen in the sharp eyes of hers. She'd clearly been awoken deep inside, stirring with pride as she recalled what she could do. It was feeling she assumed the island had robbed her of long ago.

As she reeled in from her euphoria, she stared into the dark eyes of Derous and muttered, “So yes... I certainly do.” A hint of resent followed those words. She longed to throw her body into combat once more. Not in a sadistic way that desired the blood of foes but in a nostalgic way that wished to be reminded what it meant to be a Kuja warrior. It was a feeling that almost killed her inside.

Ozark's gray eyes grew with excitement as she listened, clearly surprised by this sudden request. For an instant, her face seemed motionless and agape, but her lips quickly curled into a grateful smile.

“I promise I have whatever it is.” Her head lowered in thought, contemplating on what she must do. “I don't much mind what it is you have in store for me, but if I am to leave this island without going AWOL, then I will gladly throw my lot in with yours and face the danger you seem eager for.”

The delicious smile on her face and joy in her expression slowly morphed in that of seriousness as she matched the men with her own desire. “There's something I must ask of you though. There's a man in the Calm Belt, a pirate. He's a man that I must find.”

Ozark approached the taller man, crossing her arms again as she looked up into his dark eyes. ”If you promise me that we may look for him if we ever cross into that wretched sea, then you have my word that I will behead each of your enemies and protect each of your allies to my very own death.” She could not say if giving herself up to this man might slow her down, she was more than willing to make herself a weapon for Derous if that was what it took to find the damned pirate.

Derous had given the Kuja relief in his promise. The stress of wait imposed by the island seemingly disappeared into thin air. Her mouth pursed into an almost humble smile before she nodded and back away and took seat in one of the lounge's comfy chairs. She felt a little more at ease, more so than forever ago, and almost seemed unguarded as a lazy contentedness flowed in her eyes.

It looked odd to see a captain of the Marines so easily pushed around, but Ozark paid it no mind. She was given Derous' assurance that he would return, and it was enough to tame he into a lull. She merely smiled and gave another nod as the agent left. She did not ponder on these great threads past the Blue Seas nor did she really consider how much danger she might be put through in future's time. All that mattered now was the road to the pirate she needed. The path, though apparently deadly, could now be walked and with the help of a Marine crew no less.

When Zed and Ozark were left alone, the Kuja sat in silence. She had no questions, just eagerness. She listened to the sea once more, but the nostalgia in it did not die out this time. If anything, ti strengthened and brought her more comfort than she could recall. As the sun grew ever darker in the horizon of the water, it appeared that the two year dread would soon come to its own end  as well.

Ozark turned her gaze into Zed's snow-white eye holes. She could not see his true eyes, though she felt he could see hers regardless. She slowly stood up from her chair and produced a respectful tone but somber tone.

“Shall I show you to the barracks, captain?”