At first, Marco was determined to tell the authorities to bugger off. Between the war of Marineford and four years of the political bullshit between Balamb and Galbadia, Marco's temper towards established authority figures hadn't softened much. Still, he promised Grell and Espio he'd listen, so fine, it couldn't hurt. And if he didn't like it, he'd walk out. No problem. But the minute they started talking about folding space and artificial gravity, it all clicked. He'd been toying with time in order to fold the space, but he hadn't been able to counter the pull of gravity from other dimensions. He'd need to use someone with control over gravity, of space. And that.... was not going to happen easily. Especially since even if Blackbeard wound up here, Marco would murder him in a second. He heaved a sigh of relief, his hand going to his forehead.
Wherever Thatch and Ace were, it wasn't dead. Suspended in time maybe, or moving slower, but likely due to the pull. It'd been risky from the start. He told Thatch that, but... Well, it was his brothers. He'd do anything for them, and he'd do it again.
Marco rubbed his temples trying to figure out more about the deaths - probably a part of the anti-gravity and jump -- and more importantly the military and scientists aspects.
Which is roughly when the part about how they were on a freaking spaceship the size of a port, in fucking space sunk in. Espio had said it before, and for all Marco refused to concede he was panicking, he'd definitely been distracted by thoughts of time, death, dimensions, and way too much of the rest.
Space.
They were on a ship.
They were on a flying ship.
In space.
Fuck.
Marco raised a hand. "Can you please tell use more about the military and how it's organized, the Wadjit who think we're pirates," maybe they didn't consider them pirates but hopefully they did, he could work a lot better with that, "And what kind of previous work experience applies for ranks?"
The scientific studies of dimensions he could help with, especially when it came to time, but right then, he had no intentions of going home until he found a way to secure his brothers first and foremost.
no subject
Wherever Thatch and Ace were, it wasn't dead. Suspended in time maybe, or moving slower, but likely due to the pull. It'd been risky from the start. He told Thatch that, but... Well, it was his brothers. He'd do anything for them, and he'd do it again.
Marco rubbed his temples trying to figure out more about the deaths - probably a part of the anti-gravity and jump -- and more importantly the military and scientists aspects.
Which is roughly when the part about how they were on a freaking spaceship the size of a port, in fucking space sunk in. Espio had said it before, and for all Marco refused to concede he was panicking, he'd definitely been distracted by thoughts of time, death, dimensions, and way too much of the rest.
Space.
They were on a ship.
They were on a flying ship.
In space.
Fuck.
Marco raised a hand. "Can you please tell use more about the military and how it's organized, the Wadjit who think we're pirates," maybe they didn't consider them pirates but hopefully they did, he could work a lot better with that, "And what kind of previous work experience applies for ranks?"
The scientific studies of dimensions he could help with, especially when it came to time, but right then, he had no intentions of going home until he found a way to secure his brothers first and foremost.