In case you didn't notice the senate in this story is going to be more like the historic senate than the one created in HoO

Octavian

After returning to the temple of Jupiter for a bit Octavian entered the senate building and noticed a newcomer to the meeting, a soldier from his cohort was standing in front of the senate. Octavian, having noticed the rest of the senate stop talking when they saw him enter quietly slipped into the stands before the meeting began once again.

"We've done as you asked, all of the captured soldiers who refused to tell us anything have been executed." The soldier said, standing straight up, his helmet still in his arm splattered with blood stains.

"How many are left?"

The soldier, Henry Calveit, as Octavian remembered, remained in his structured and collected position before answering, "only one sir, and he's unconscious."

The senator who asked this grumbled a bit before he spoke up again, "Keep him alive, let Octavian handle things from here," he said turning his attention towards the Augur a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Give this new guest of ours a welcome.

Octavian looked up from his place in the senate, "You want me to show mercy to an enemy of the empire?"

"If we gain his trust than we will have all we need to know about this new threat." the senator said standing.

Octavian nodded standing up, "I understand. I'll go meet with this barbarian." he said drawing out the last word.

Octavian had just arrived at the military hospital outside of the captive's room where he was now talking with the soldiers who had brought him here and were guarding the captive and a doctor was inside attending to the patient.

"I was told that the prisoner was unconscious." Octavian said as he looked inside of the room, observing the tall blonde patient who was wearing a crisp white hospital gown.

"He was, he just woke up the doctor is in checking his vitals, we'll be able to interrogate him shortly after he's done."

Octavian studied the unaware patient for a while, observing his dazed and slow reactions, "tell me about him."

The guard who originally spoke up stepped forward, "that's the strange thing sir, unlike the other enemies this one," he said motioning inside of the room, "wasn't part of the raiding party, he didn't even look like he was involved with the attack."

Octavian frowned, the senate wasn't going to be happy if this one didn't have anything on the unknown enemy either, "yet you're still going to interrogate him?"

"Come with me," the guard said looking around the hospital hall before leading Octavian to the temple of Jupiter. The two of them walked in silence, ignoring the glances the residents of new Rome were giving them as the Augor and a captain of the Guard walked quickly towards the temple of Jupiter.

As they entered the temple the captain turned around digging into his pockets and pulling out three medallions, one of copper, another of silver and the final of gold, "We found separate charms like these on all the bodies and prisoners that attacked us," he said throwing the silver and copper ones to the floor, "the golden one was found on the person in the hospital right now."

Octavian took the medal from the guard and looked over it, the golden circle looked like a denarii but instead of a picture of one of the emperors there was a symbol of the moon on one side and a symbol of a peach on the other.

"We found a couple silver ones, but the majority were copper, the only golden one was from the person in the hospital. Due to the rarity and the placement of the silver medallions my guess is that the ones with silver and gold were the experienced members, but that doesn't sit well with other members of the guard, they say that because of the uniforms worn by the three classes were different from each other, the ones with copper were all wearing your usual mail and leather, while the ones wearing silver had more ornamental uniforms signifying an increased rank."

Sounds reasonable." Octavian said before handing the emulate back to the guard.

"But the fellow in the hospital wasn't wearing any armor at all, he was wearing a suit and tie." the guard said interrupting Octavian.

"So, he might be nothing more than some homeless person who somehow wandered onto the battlefield and found that medallion." Octavian asked his hopes for an easy conclusion sinking faster than a Roman trireme after having been struck by a ram.

The guard shook his head, "Not unless this homeless person also had a private investigators license, a short highlander dirk, made of some sort of imperial gold like substance, and a pistol."

"Imperial gold like substance." Octavian asked raising an eyebrow. "Thank you, I'll keep this in mind when questioning him." Octavian said looking around the temple before he had back towards the hospital.

By the time Octavian returned to the hospital the doctor had finished examining the captive and was walking out of the room, his attention fixated on his clipboard.

"How is he." Octavian asked stepping in front of him.

The doctor, surprised, almost dropped his clipboard before he looked up not expecting Octavian, "he's suffering from retrograde amnesia, I doubt that he'll be of any interest to you or the members of the senate."

Octavian was silent for a minute before the doctor sighed and spoke up again. "He doesn't remember who he is or what he was doing there."

Octavian bit his lip trying to come up with an idea to help get him in good standing with the senate. "If possible, I would still like to question."

The doctor looked back over his shoulder into the room where the patient was reading the Aeneid translated into English. "You can try, but like I said he doesn't even recall his name."

Octavian looked at the patient, he was beyond a doubt older than him as well as the majority of the other members of camp Jupiter, a beard was starting to grow on him and he was at least six feet tall from what Octavian could tell with him sitting down. Octavian looked down at the private investigator's license it was torn but the only part missing was the man's last name.

"Erik" Octavian said reading the name on the licenses, "Germanicus," Octavian said taking another look at the patient. "Erik Germanicus."

Malcolm Pace

Malcolm sat up, clutching his head in pain, trying to ignore the dull throbbing he looked around for a bit confused on how he made it into the big house. It felt like he had been ran over by a parade of elephants when he tried to sit up straight. "Bloody." he whispered silently under his breath, as he tested his arm, making sure it was still functioning.

Surprisingly enough for him, Malcolm realized that the pain in his arm had diminished and that he was able to use it without any repercussions. Looking down at himself he observed his near death like physique, he had lost most of the muscle in his arms and legs and his hands were shaking unceasingly.

"I look like Mot." he heard himself whisper, before he head over to a night stand where a clean set of clothes was waiting for him. He stopped for a moment thinking about what he said than shook it off, and threw on the clean clothes. Malcolm didn't have the focus to start thinking about a change in vocabulary.

Confused, in pain and, as evident by his growling stomach, hungry Malcolm decided he should first seek out Chiron, or Dionysus Malcolm had to remind himself that if he wanted an official account of what happened since his incapacitation he'd have to have an audience with the god of wine.

Thinking of talking to the deity Malcolm's hand wandered to the jeans pocket where he always kept the medallion he was given by the high priest of Tanit back during his non official quest, only to be met with his wallet, containing twenty dollars in cash, his debit card, three golden drachmas, his Pennsylvania state I.D., and his old high school student I.D., and his new Molloy College Student I.D. Silently cursing Malcolm made his way back towards the bed he woke up on frantically looking for any signs of the medallion.

As a child of Athena, he wasn't prepared for his clumsily orchestrated search for the medallion, he was used to having a plan laid out in front of him before he rushed out into any action, while this type of methodology certainly helped him with plans, data, and outcomes, having to solve a problem that incorporated a large level of emotional attachment that needed to be fixed at that moment, ensure a hectic, clumsily executed performance, and this was exactly what happened.

Malcolm started first trying to through the sheets off the hastily made surgeon bed but stopped when he noticed a sharp pain jolt up his arm where his arrow wounds had been.

Taking in a sharp breath before he sat back down on the bed he cupped his head in his hands, to overwhelmed by his situation to do anything to improve his current situation or to notice that the front door had opened and in stepped his half-sister.

"Malcolm, you're awake." Annabeth said relieved that her brother was out of the woods.

"I guess." Malcolm responded finding the energy inside of himself to rise from the bed dusting his clothes off to hide the fact he was holding his head in his hands just a minute before.

"I take it you won't be joining the rest of the cabin for fencing practice." Annabeth said narrowing her eyes, looking over her brother's unkempt appearance.

Malcolm bit his lower lip, sure he was tired confused and hungry, but on the other hand if he didn't start doing anything to help get back in his previous athletic ability he worked so hard to gain he might never.

"It's fine, I'll be fine." Malcolm said to a shocked Annabeth, "Just don't expect anything spectacular from me, whatever medicine was given to me, while I appreciate it, seems to have given me some feverish like symptoms." Malcolm said thinking back to his previous outburst when he invoked a foreign deities name comparing that to an intrusion of his body by a bacterium leading to a fever.

Annabeth seemed to want to interject but was stopped by Malcolm.

"It's fine Annabeth," Malcolm responded holding up both of his hands in peace, "I just need to get out of here. I think some fresh air would do me well." Malcolm said motioning towards the door.

Annabeth Chase

Annabeth was not having a good day, that much was certain. First off it was her turn inspect the cabins. First, there were only two cabins, inhabited cabins that is, that didn't make her want to sneak into the cabin at night and rearrange it while no one was awake. Sadly, her boyfriend wasn't one of those two.

"Honestly it's like Tyson is the maid of your cabin." she remembered scolding the red-faced son of Poseidon.

Secondly becoming an architect was her dream but she had envisioned it as planning one glorious monument to the gods at a time, not reconstructing a war-torn city, and constructing dozens of new cabins for minor gods.

All in all, she was having a hectic morning, and her daily routines of checking in on her brother had started to grow wearisome. Nicholas had already left the camp and Malcolm had been showing no signs of waking.

Needless to say, she was both ecstatic that her brother finally had woken up and guilty for half of her reasoning of her wanting him to get better was for her own personal relief.

Annabeth hesitated for a while looking at her brother's gesture, not sure what to make of her brother's sudden change in attitude. Sure, he had always been concerned with practicality and efficiency, but even out of all her siblings Malcolm had always been the most unforthcoming, and going out of his way to position himself in a social position, even if they were related, surprised her. Thinking back to the night that Malcolm had collapsed he seemed to be less like himself, more revered and secretive than ever and his outburst, however Annabeth shook it off as just him being in shock.

"Fine," she smiled, honestly pleased that she would be able to keep a closer eye on her older brother. "The rest of the cabin are already at the arena, were practicing with Arese's cabin."

Malcolm groaned, and Annabeth couldn't blame him, her own injury still ached during intense combat and while getting used to it would mean getting back into her own rigorous routine, the Ares cabin was the only combatant that the Athena cabin had trouble with.

"Anyway," Annabeth said changing the subject "I heard Molloy accepted you, congratulations."

Malcolm smiled, "it's nothing, I just wished that I could have found a way to attend a school with a larger history program that was in distance of the camp. "Annabeth cracked a smile at this, sure her brother was one of the smartest and most athletic people she knew, and still he couldn't pass a simple drivers test.

"So," Malcolm said, his expression hardening, "what have I missed"?

"Not a lot, I'm busy helping the newly claimed demigods design and plan their new cabins while Tyson has left to gather some builders to help get them built as soon as possible, and juggling all of that while searching for colleges can be a bit hectic. Other than that, everything's just as it was before your incapacitation."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow at this, they were standing outside of the Arena now and the campers who knew Malcolm had already started to head over to the two of them. "Your planning for college already? You're an incoming sophomore, take it easy for a little bit."

Annabeth shrugged, before entering the arena, "Some of us have a bigger pool of schools to look at, I for one, have already completed drivers ed."

Annabeth left Malcolm behind her forcing him to deal with the questions from their siblings by himself but could swore she heard him mutter under his breath "Some of us never lived in California."

Thankfully training wasn't a bad as it could have been, Malcolm was tasked with training some of the newer recruits, this allowed him to both gradually work his way back into his previous routine as well as avoid getting into combat that might slow his recovery time.

That being said, this meant Annabeth was in charge of the older campers, she winced realizing that this meant working with Clarisse on finding suitable partners for everyone.

"I'm glad Malcolm's back, it was getting ridiculous having to train the new campers along with the veterans." Clarisse said to Annabeth, gripping her lance while her gaze remained focused on the group of campers forming around them.

Annabeth smiled good naturedly, "Thanks, that means a lot to us."

Clarisse took a quick glance over to the area where Malcolm and her second in command Sherman Yang, were trying to organize the group of wildly energetic younger demigods. "Sherman's not that good with younger Demigods," Clarisse said grinning, "One of the only things he can't handle."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at this, "So you thought Malcolm would be able to better handle them, Sherman may not be able to handle inexperienced new recruits, but Malcolm can barely tolerate crowds of people he knows."

At this Clarisse just smiled.

Annabeth just shook her head and turned to the group of older campers not sure as to be impressed by Clarisse's thinking or offended.

Malcolm Pace

Sure, he was a son of the goddess of battle but that didn't mean he was great with swords, honestly when he first came to camp other than his preference for the academic life and his grey eyes, most of the campers assumed he was a child of Apollo as both his archery and javelin skills revealed those of the sons and daughters of Apollo. But even as a self-proclaimed prodigy he had his shortcomings, fencing was unfortunately one of them. During the second Titan war he had sneaked out of the Athena cabin to practice his shadow fencing, a training exercise he started to build the techniques he would practice into becoming second nature. However, this was a practice that he hadn't done since, well, when he fainted.

Malcolm however wasn't one to back down from a challenge, scratch that, Malcolm wasn't one to back down from a non-lethal challenge, after all as Publius Cornelius Tacitus put it "He that fights and runs away, may turn and fight another day; But he that is in battle slain, will never rise to fight again.

Malcolm shook his head, where did that come from? These foreign thoughts were coming to him, Phoenician, Roman, even English as he thought grey looked better. Malcolm shook his head once again, he needed to focus on the training.