Hello, Internet, and welcome to a Surprise for the Argo! Don't worry, I am continuing XCOM- Operation: Angry Gods, I just really wanted to write this. Expect a new instalment of that story by next Friday.

A couple notes for the Aubrey-Maturin fans out there: First, I will try to keep a level of historical accuracy on the part of the Patrick O' Brian characters present in this story, but I am by far no expert. Please give me pointers on when I biff some important part of sea life of the Nineteenth Century.

Secondly, This Story follows the books, but diverges timelines. This story takes place during the pursuit of the Norfolk in Far Side of the World, and diverges timelines after they leave the Galapagos Islands. The Percy Jackson timeline diverges right before the half-dolphin pirates attack the Argo in Mark of Athena.

With all of the continuity issues sorted, on with the show!

Quote of the day:

"There I have you, you are bit – you are completely dished.

Do you not know that in the Navy you

always choose the lesser of two weevils?"

Jack Aubrey, The Fortune of War

Standing on the quarterdeck of the H.M.S. Surprise, Lieutenant Mowett looked out on the fog. The oppressive atmosphere had come out of nowhere earlier that watch, two days after leaving the Galapagos. Headed after the Norfolk, they have yet to encounter the damned privateer. They were hoping to intercept it near the Marquesas Islands, and finally put an end to this confounded chase. While the Norfolk was much larger, Mowett and the rest of the crew weren't worried. Lucky Jack would see them through the battle.

Mowett scanned the fog. No ships were visible or audible, yet the Lieutenant was extremely unsettled. Fog at this time of the year in the Pacific was unusual, and there was nothing natural about it.

The watch was almost over, with the bell ringing the half-hour of the third hour. As Mowett rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, there was a flash of green light, followed by a loud boom.

"What the hell was that?" A middie asked. "It sounded like thunder."

"That was no thunder I have ever seen," Mowett muttered. Before he could decide on a course of action, however, a shape loomed in the fog.

It was another ship, much larger but of a peculiar design, set to make a head-on collision at speed.

"STEADY TO PORT!"

As they passed, the crew of the surprise saw that the other ship was armed, and appeared just as surprised to see them there. The two masts had between them several mounted weapons, none of which looked like a modern cannon. The Figurehead was a bronze dragon, and a ram protruded from the bow. Rows lined the side, stroking a steady beat. What was weirdest, though, was the two visible crew members. A man who looked young enough to be a midshipmen stood on the prow of this new ship with a young woman. As the man eyed their ship, he looked at the ship not as if he was studying it, but as if it was telling him something that troubled him. Mr. Mowett immediately knew what to do about this mysterious appearance, and any potential hostility.

"Beat to quarters."

"WE SHALL BEAT TO QUARTERS!"

Let Captain Aubrey assess the situation, and give them hell when necessary.

Percy's eyes widened. "We need to turn."

"What?"

Percy leaned against the bow's rail. A ship had simply appeared from nowhere, not sailing into his senses but actually popping into existence. He sensed it heading straight towards them at 12 knots, fast enough to cause damage. "Leo! Port ten degrees!"

Leo didn't question the order. After all, Percy was the one with perfect bearings and senses at sea. They were lucky the Argo II turned when it did, as a nineteenth-century frigate bolted out of the fog, barely missing as the two ships passed. Leo raised the alarm at the same time as the other ship "beat to quarters," the term simply coming to the son of Poseidon. It also told him the small frigate was as surprised to see them as they were.

At first, Percy thought okay, a replica. Then he realized it was the middle of the night, and the other ship had no backup motor or sonar, as a modern replica was supposed to have. The other ship also consisted entirely of men in period uniform, which even the most stringent reenactors would fail at achieving in a modern setting (okay, Percy was a bit of a ship nut. Blame genetics) Then Percy looked at the ship. And he didn't just see a three-masted ship that was smaller, a shorter length, and had much a shorter keel than their ship. Because of his heritage, he saw the ship for what it was, as if she had told him her history as it sailed past. And what she told him troubled him greatly.

Percy took charge. This mysterious frigate – the H.M.S Surprise, it told him — was formidable, fast, and lucky, but Percy was in his element. He had controlled a sailing ship before, and spoke the language of wooden ships and iron men. He was going to use that to his advantage, and take charge before this came to a battle. He strode briskly towards the quaterdeck of the Argo II, ordering the other seven to the crossbows and the ballista as they appeared. As he did so, the Captain of the surprise appeared, quickly taking charge and reading the situation on his own end as the two ships finished passing each other. Percy turned back to the crossbows. "Load and ready them," he shouted briskly, "but do not aim or fire. Hold them steady." The Surprise began turning to port, upwind of the Argo II. Percy cursed "Leo," Percy said, reaching the helm, "Steady starboard. Match their speed and heading."

"Yes sir, captain waterboy." Leo saluted. Percy almost rolled his eyes, but he understood Leo was nervous. They all were.

The two ships pulled parallel fifteen feet from each other. Percy cringed when he saw the currents and wind were not in their favor. The Surprise and her crew stood ready, everything wound like the spring on a catapult ready to strike. For a brief second, the son of Poseidon locked eyes with his counterpart. The captain of the surprise was a large man with some girth, and a scarred appearance. He was a man his crew respected; they all stood a little straighter in his presence. The eyes showed a determined and cunning sailor, one of the best at his job. The two seamen saw the same determined look in each other's eyes, and the blonde captain of the Surprise nodded once.

The moment passed, and Percy turned to Annabeth, the only person besides him and Leo not manning a weapon. "What do you think?" Percy asked.

Annabeth looked at the other ship. It appeared that the officers were convening on what to do next. Then she gave out a frustrated sigh. "For starters, is that actually an eighteenth-century ship, as in they are from the 1800's?"

Percy nodded. "The HMS Surprise, a sixth-rate frigate with 38 guns and 136 souls. Launched in 1794 by the French under the name Unité, captured by the British in 1796 and renamed, it has been in the British Navy for 17 years."

Leo gaped. "I thought your girlfriend was the encyclopedia."

"What are we talking about, Leo?"

"Oh," the helmsman said sheepishly, "nautical stuff."

Percy rolled his eyes and turned back to Annabeth. "The important thing is that ship is telling me it's the year 1813 right now, and last I checked the blockade of Toulon was a long time ago."

Annabeth started. "Since when did you know Napoleonic history?"

"It was a school project at Goode," Percy responded. "World history. I went a little overboard when researching Nelson's Navy. Blame genetics."

Annabeth took a moment to process what her boyfriend had told her. "Well, what should we do?"

Percy shrugged. "Anyone got a spare Letter of Marque?"

Just then, a voice coming from a megaphone—which appeared to be merely a wooden tube – "Unknown ship, in the name of His Majesty's navy, stand down and identify yourselves. If you refuse we shall open fire."

Percy had several planned responses, none of which he was sure would sound believable. In the end, he decided to go for the privateer angle. "Leo," The son of Poseidon calmly stated, "hand me that bullhorn."

Leo nodded, then handed him the bullhorn. Percy brought it to his mouth, facing the British frigate, and calmly formed his reply.

"THE COW GOES MOO!"

Godsdammit, Leo.