Hi, this is Tazal Terminal here. I had being meaning to write this story for quite some time but hadn't being able to decide on what kind of beginning I should have. Well I have finally decided and here we have a little prologue. Sorry if it's a bit short and confusing but prologues are meant to tease the readers after all. Now without further ado, LETS BEGIN!

P.S I do not own Percy Jackson. Seriously

Prologue

Two men stood in the middle of a strange shipyard. What made it strange was the fact that not only was there neither ship nor men could be seen, but also it was not built on the banks of a river or on the shore of a sea. It was located on gear shaped platform which was floating some two hundred feet of the ground. Four rather large towers connected it to the city below. The streets were full of activity was men went to and fro. Some were carrying boxes, crates and weapons while others armed to the teeth were moving towards the city walls. Above was the same story. Massive ships the length of well over half a kilometer, made entirely of metal and wood were slowly entering blue swirling portals. Once a ship entered its portal, there would a moment of nothing before it would close suddenly with a mighty crack.

"You sure you made the right decision, High Marshall?" said the taller of the two observers. He wore a dark green cloak that hid covered most of his body except for his steel toed boots. A sheathed sword hang from a belt on his left. His black hair was tied back in a pony tail while a grey mask hid his face with the expectation of the electric blue eyes. He continued with:

"I mean no disrespect sir but now that I think over it, the plan seems rather desperate. We both know that the chance of the colony ships finding a habitable world is one in a hundred. That is not counting the fact that the jump might not even succeed along with the danger of supply shortage before reaching their targets. It would have being better that they-"

A hand silenced him from the now identified High Marshall. He was a man well past his prime as the grey hair and moustache showed. The navy blue coat and pants he wore were old and battered. On his back was a scrap musket, also showing signs of old age. His face was lined with age but the light in his grey eyes had not dimmed since the day he was born. It was the eyes of someone who had seen much and knew much. When he spoke, his voice was one of world weary and gruff, but underlined with gentleness usually found in elder people. "Ow, stop using the sir Lurn. We are old friends are we not? I know full well that my plan is a desperate one, but what other choice was there. Staying here would have meant certain death for them all. Out there, they at least stand a chance of survival. Our enemy is strong, even after fifteen years of war. In that time, almost all of our worlds have fallen expect our home world, a home world I might add that is also about to fall. They now carry the hope of humanity on their shoulders. We will stay to buy time for them and create the illusion of our extinction. With luck, our enemy will take it and will not look for survivors but I have long since stopped believing in luck."

After he finished, the two didn't speak until the last of the ships had departed for their uncertain journey.

"My family is on one of them you know. My wife Laurence, the twins Zun and Zul and my newborn girl Nikk. I didn't get the chance to even say goodbye."

"I know how you feel. My grandchildren are also onboard one of them along with their mother. My son decided to stay, saying it was his job to make sure his loved ones were safe."

Then as the sun slowly sank behind the mountains east of the city, the cold southern winds came howling. Along with it was the sound of horns. It was time.