Percy was thrilled by the second volley of cannon balls.

He'd never felt this excited since escaping the British Royal Navy. Across from The Atlantis's Curse—the massive galleon he had inherited—was a third-rate shooting large, metallic cannon balls that looked like balloons on steroids. The opposing ship was obviously faster than his, but Percy didn't mind. Surely, there were bandits on the boat, begging to get their loot robbed. Percy would happily oblige.
His crew members were confidently in their respectful positions, each one where they belong. His first-mate Piper and his gunner Hazel were on each side of the right flank of cannons, lighting them and aiming them for fire at the enemy ship. Behind him, all the way towards the stern, was a scrawny boy with curly black hair—Leo, who was steering the ship, acting as the crew's pilot. Percy looked around. He was missing one more member of his crew, he was missing his navigator.

And at that moment, someone with dark shaggy hair and eyes the same color as his hair slid down the mainmast and dropped right in front of Percy. Nico gave Percy a small nod and jogged towards the cannons where Piper and Hazel were gunning.
Percy took one good look at his crew. He noticed how Piper and Hazel wore the same Motley clothing except Hazel had maroon stripes in her shirt while Piper had a blood-red in hers. Each of the girls wore dark baggy pants and large leather boots that reached up their knees. Piper had nothing on her head, but on her neck she had large pearls which she earned on a previous treasure hunt. Around her wrists, an abundance of bracelets the color of a raincloud that glistened beautifully around her light copper skin. Around her waist, she wore a leather belt that held her bronze dagger on her right and a clean iron cutlass on her left. Hazel on the other hand wore a dark blue bandana that fit too big, nearly covering her eye. Her dark chocolate skin looked just as perfect with the large, golden earrings that circled her ears, shaking with ever movement as she moved from cannon to cannon. Just like Piper, Hazel had the same leather belt that held one large cutlass that Percy instantly knew to stay away from—Hazel could be dangerous with that thing.

Leo was probably the most flamboyant and the most poorly elegant at the same time. He had a large confident grin on his face, once in a while getting slapped by the black-and-white checkered scarf that flapped in the furious wind. He had a dirty white shirt, with baggy sleeves. On top of the shirt, he wore a navy blue waistcoat—a mock of the British Navy, Percy presumed. In diversity of the rest of the crew; Leo's belt was much larger, for he carried a few dozen tools around his waist. He wore dark blue breeches that reached under his knee, while the rest of his skin was covered by black leather boots. Leo liked to wear an eyepatch over his left eye, but Percy knew he only did it for fashion.
His navigator, Nico, took his style more seriously than Leo. He wore a dark plain shirt that was covered with a huge black coat that was several sizes too large for his body. Nico wasn't much of a person to wear accessories, in fact, he avoided them. He wore pants the color of the night sky that poured down his legs until it reached the top of his feet, which were covered with plain shoes, very different from the rest of the crew.

Percy grinned, despite the war his ship was in. He loved being around the ocean. He loved sailing. He loved his crew members. He treated them with respect and equality. No one was below anyone on this ship. To him they were all his brethren, all his friends. He'd trusted every last one of them with his life and vice versa.
The sun glared in his face, but that didn't keep him from looking forward. The wind was dangerously potent, but still warm. The air smelled like sea rocks and salt, a scent Percy had learned to adore due to his years at sea.

"Everyone, duck!" Piper had yelled.
And so they did. Each member of the ship crouched to the ground—even the pilot—as a flock of canon balls soared toward them. Percy couldn't exactly see what happened, but he felt the ship tilting, shaking as if an earthquake had happened belowdecks.
"Schist!" Percy heard Leo yell, "That's gonna so some serious damage!"
Percy didn't know what he was talking about…until he looked up. He almost wished he hadn't because the sight twisted his stomach into a knot. The foremast was bent, almost twisted. It had been leaning towards the left flank, dangerously about to snap.
Percy gritted his teeth. There was no way he was losing his ship.
"Leo," He shouted towards the pilot, "Try keeping it out of distance from the cannon shots!"
"Yeah, tell me something I don't know, Cappy!"
"Captain," called Hazel, "All artillery is ready for fire!"
Percy ran towards the sound of her voice. Once again, he'd lost Nico. He looked around him, made a three-hundred and sixty degree turn, but still had no luck.
"Where's Nico?" He asked Piper.
Piper shot him a big smile that said something like don't worry we have it under control.
"We sent him to the cannons below," She finally said.
"Will he be all right down there? Won't he need any help?" Percy somehow felt protective over his navigator. Being belowdecks could be solitary, and the firepower down there was too much for a single person.
"Don't worry," Hazel said, "my brother is good with the cannons. If anything, he knows how to operate the ones below better than I do."
Percy nodded at this.
He placed his foot on one of the metallic guns, pointing a finger to the smaller ship across the sea.
"Okay, crew—fire!" He felt the world under his feet tremble. His ship vibrated as a volley of eighteen cannon balls arched in the air, using the wind as it's guide and impulse towards the enemy ship. As soon as the first set of cannonballs flew, there was a second tremble belowdecks as Nico di Angelo fired sixteen more shots, only these were flying in a lower angle than the ones before.
Percy laughed as he saw the action. He felt proud of his friends and their organization. Usually, they were a mess when it came to keeping the ship clean, but when it came to the fun stuff—sailing, loot robbing, sea fighting—they were perfect.
The series of firepower had done a major damage to the opposing ship. The collection of the top cannons had destroyed their sails and had knocked down their mast, leaving them with no escape. The bottom volley had made large dents in their defense, creating large hollow holes in the sturdy wood. Percy had noticed a piece of the wood crumbling down at the bottom, like the way paint peels off a wall.
He looked back at Leo. Percy had to smile as he saw the look of concentration on his face. Leo was generally a laid back kind of person, but when he sailed, he sailed.
Leo caught the look in Percy's eye and got the signal he was sending him. Instantly, he jerked the ship's wheel to his east, allowing the galleon to turn course with him. Percy sauntered to the foredeck, digging his hands in the pockets of his coat. He reached the bowsprit and climbed on to it, being extra careful not to fall off as if he were walking on a tight rope. The sun's reflection was echoing orange in the transparent blue of the ocean's water. Percy loved how the wind whistled in his face, nearly knocking off his tri-cornered captain's hat.
Percy had a chance to catch a glimpse of the opposing ship as theirs approached. Threw his golden-bronze telescope he saw the enemy's panicking as the ran around the deck, expecting orders from their captain—a short, scrawny man with a scruffy white beard and a dead look in his eyes. He wore the typical bandit clothes such as the bandanas that did a horrible job covering his balding head and his bushy beard. Percy guessed he was the captain, since he seemed to be the one shouting orders and acted the calmest amongst the rest of the crew.
The Atlantis's Curse rammed the smaller ship before Percy had a chance to walk off the bowsprit, which nearly tumbled him overboard. As soon as he regained his balance, he pulled out a single flintlock pistol from his belt. He shot into the air once and yelled out a battle cry, "All right, crew—attack!"
Percy smiled as Piper and Hazel hopped from the galleon's deck to the third rate's deck, large steel cutlasses waving in the air. Nico climbed back up and realized the action immediately. He glanced over towards Percy, looking uncertain about something.
"Stay here with Leo!" Percy ordered. "We need you two taking care of the ship."
With that said, he jumped from the bowsprit to the enemy ship, soon taking in the action and madness that was abroad.
The bandits' crew had already been overwhelmed, even if it just were two members of his crew. Piper and Hazel were deadly as a team, better than an army of elephants with the minds only set on "trample." The two girls had managed to tie up have a dozen bandits around the mainmast as if they were expecting the ship to be flipped over. Percy caught Piper clashing with tall and muscular man. He had dark hair with an odd buzzcut Percy had never seen. It was like a mountain had been cropped at it's crest, leaving it at an odd angle.
It seemed that Piper had it under control, though the man kept pushing her back towards the edge of the ship. They're blades parried, creating a shrieking shink each time the metal crashed against each other. Piper took a glance back and nearly stepped off the edge. She stretched out her leg and crouched, rotating in a perfect circle like a human vortex as she swiped the muscular man off his feet. He hit the wooden board with a horrible crash, sending him into unconsciousness.
Piper looked back at Percy and smiled, but her grin soon faded into a look of terror. Percy felt confused as he stared at her, but he soon realized the cause. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a tiny man raising a cutlass—the captain. Percy dodge-rolled as soon as he could, allowing the captain's blade cut a gash in the lining of his coat. Percy had to catch his captain's hat from falling off as he regained his composure. He lifted up his hand, aiming his pistol directly at the scrawny captain's face.
"Give it up," Percy spat, still aiming the flintlock directly at the captain's face.
The old man snickered, giving Percy a mocking expression. "Coward. A useless pistol will not do you any good."
Percy smirked, lowering his aiming arm, keeping the pistol's nose away from the other man. He brushed his thumb over a small metallic bottom between the handle and the pistol. As he pressed it, the pistol shifted, elongating into a weapon majorly deadlier. The flintlock's handle had turned into a rough leather grip in Percy's hand; the snout, metallic and bronze, changed into a glowing bright blade the same color. On the hilt of the sword were words written in an ancient language. Anaklusmos, it read, but Percy had known it's meaning: Riptide.
Percy raised his new weapon, pointing it at the man once more.
"I'll say it one more time," he said in the same dangerous tone, "Give up. Now."
"Fight me first. Then we shall see who keeps this ship's riches."
"Who are you?"
The bandit captain laughed, as if the answer to that question was obvious. Percy hated feeling like he didn't know the answer, he hated being the most ignorant of people.
"Haven't you heard? I'm the great bandit Scatron," said the man cheerfully. Percy had never heard of him, sure he'd fought bandits and other pirates before, famous and dangerous alike, but he'd never bothered to keep track who they were before any of their encounters.
He looked around to find his crew mates, but they were no where near the deck. He'd guessed that they were probably ransacking the small ship. He stole a glance at his ship. Conflict was occurring. Somehow, bandits had managed to hop towards his galleon, leaving Leo Valdez and Nico di Angelo in defense of the ship. Percy didn't worry too much, he trusted his friends, and he knew how strong they could be.
Percy had grown tired of the tension between Scatron man and himself, so he charged. Their blades locked, a piercing shriek as bronze and steel collided. Percy could see the man smiling through the gap between their blades. How and old man could be so strong, Percy had no idea, but he figured he didn't have much time to figure it out.
Each of them pulled back their blades, losing the lock. Scatron thrusted his cutlass, aiming towards Percy's heart, but he had side stepped just in time. Percy slashed in a wide arc, damaging scatron in the knee. The old man howled in pain, but regained himself immediately.
Suddenly, he was a killing machine. Scatron swiped and slash, lunged and thrusted so fast, Percy hardly had enough time to dodge. He'd gotten cut by the bandit's blade several times, but that didn't stop him from keeping away. The old man had driven Percy to the edge of the ship, leaving him no where to dodge, so he tried blocking with all his might.
Percy felt the waves hitting against the crumbling wood like pounds from a vibrating drum. He felt the ocean churning, renewing himself in its essence. Now, he didn't mind a dip in the water once in a while—in fact it would have revitalized him—but he figured now wouldn't be the best time for a beauty bath.
He felt a tingling sensation in his gut, a slight pain as if he felt the ocean calling for him. With one big scream, a tidal wave rushed over the him, nearly tipping over the smaller ship. The wave had been so powerful, it had knocked Scatron off his feet, sending him sprawling to the floor. He looked both astonished and disgusted, as if Percy had slapped him in the face with the world's largest tuna fish.
The bandit was about to stand until Percy put the tip of Riptide on his neck. A whimper escaped Scatron's throat, but the old man scowled as if he had newfound hatred for Percy.
"Poseidon scum," spat Scatron. "The gods shall fall. Their reign in the world will end, along with their pathetic little demigods. He rises again. And when he does, you better find yourself hiding before it's too late."
Percy had no idea what he was rambling on about, but he felt that it must have been important. "That's flattering, do you mind being more specific about who 'He' is?"
The sinister smile on Scatron's face made Percy feel a little nervous, as if he were planning a deliciously gruesome death for him. "The Great Lord, of course. The Master of the Abyss. The Crooked One. "
Percy wasn't the smartest of guys, but he was pretty sure those titles meant something extremely powerful and dangerous. He was about to press the old bandit on, but Hazel ran up to him with an abundance of shining gems and gold inside a sack.
"Captain!" She called. "We managed to take everything on board. Piper is already back on the Curse with Leo and Nico, and we should be heading back too. I've got a feeling this ship won't last longer." She was right, of course. Percy was sure the export was decomposing in a way. Once every few minutes you could hear the clashing of wood falling into the ocean, or the creek of one of the mast's daring to drop on top of them.
"Women on a ship!" cried Scatron. "A disgrace to sailing under the Black Flag. They bring bad fortune!"
For some reason this angered Percy. He hated when other people trashed on his crew mates. "Oh, really? What are the odds? Looks like we seemed to turn out luckier than you."
He glanced at Hazel to see if she was offended, but her face was blank of emotion. "Let's go back to the Curse," He told her. "The rest are waiting."
"What about the bandit?" She asked.
"Leave him here. He'll find out a way to survive." Despite his anger toward Scatron, Percy still hope he would survive the wrecking ship. Sure, he'd caused them a lot of trouble, but he was still human.
They had left the old man glaring at them as they crossed on board to the Atlantis's Curse. Leo and Nico stood triumphant over downed bandits, the same ones who had tried to interlope their ship. Leo had a confident grin on his face as his crew mates returned, while Nico just leaned against the foremast, giving his sister a small smile as she walked toward them.
"Leo, head course to Ogygia." Percy ordered, "We'll need to restock on supplies and make some repairs."
Leo frowned at Percy, obviously sensing something wrong. "You sure about that? I mean, didn't we plan a few pits stops at some villages?"
"Those will have to wait, pal." The mood on the Atlantis's Curse was jolly. They had won, acquired a ton of cash, and beaten a hoard of bandits, yet the warning that Scatron had given Percy worried him. Still, we didn't feel like killing the happy mood among his crew mates just yet. If anything, they earned it after some hard work. Which was another reason why he wanted to head back to Ogygia, they needed rest.
Percy stared at the orange glow of the ocean as the sun set into rest at the base of the sea.