Percy looked over the armor one last time before nodding his approval. He was never really picky about how his armor looked, but times have changed. He knew that he'd inevitably be dragged into the hell of Roman politics, and that when he did, someone would eventually make a comment about him not being a "true Roman". While he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop some dumb senator from squawking, he hoped that by looking the part, he'd plant a seed of doubt in the minds of anyone who agreed with that sentiment.

And that started with his armor. He opted for the iconic Lorica Segmentata of the late Empire, however he had the pteryges blackened and engraved with images of wolves and tridents, in honor of his father and the mother of Rome. The individual segments of his armor with all engraved the same accents, and the Imperial Gold glistened in the sun. His helmet was a simple Gaela, and he left that blank, as he did with his greaves and Manica.

All an all, it was an impressive set of armor, and it fully encapsulated his new station as an officer of Rome.

He opted for sticking with his Riptide, however he would pick up a standard Scutum when he could. He might be Primus Pilus, but he wasn't going to showboat any more than was required.

"How much do I owe you?" Percy asked the blacksmith

The blacksmith just shook his head. "it'll be taken from your pay"

Percy's eyes widened at the mention of pay. The Greeks weren't exactly "paid". The Hermes Cabin was usually in charge of money, but at Camp Half-Blood, there was simply no need for money. Armor and the like was done without payment by the Hephaestus Cabin, and food was provided by the camp kitchens.

But Camp Jupiter was different. There was an economy here, and there was a reason for it. There wasn't just demigods here, and not everyone was a fighter either. This was a society, and a society needed money to thrive.

Percy might have been Praetor, but there were lots of things he had yet to learn.

Percy thanked the blacksmith for his work and set off for the Field of Mars. He was going to train, however he was also hoping to run into Michael while there. Percy was new to this leadership thing, and he knew better than anyone that he needed to be shown the ropes first.

Timeskip

"Michael?"

Michael turned and chuckled. "The only people who call me Michael are people who are either trying to flirt with me or people who want to kill me. Everybody calls me Mike"

Percy shook the hand that Mike offered. "Percy. Can I ask you something a little personal?"

Michael nodded and pulled him into the First Cohort barracks. "What's up?

"I'm not too sure how to ask this, so I'm going to be blunt: any ill will because I'm technically usurping you?"

Michael shook his head. "Nah. I'm not too proud to admit that I was way out of my league trying to lead the First. Maybe when your service is up, I'll be able to step up again, but for now, the Praetors made the right decision."

Percy blinked. He liked this one. Humble, yet also ambitious enough to hope to climb the ladder. It was certainly not the response he was waiting for, but he was more than happy that Mike was mature enough. If he'd have usurped Octavian, it would've been a very different story. Percy shuddered at the mere thought.

"Thanks Mike, that takes a weight of my shoulders. Anything else I should know before I take command here?"

"Uhm...well I can give you a run down over the entire cohort if you want?"

Seeing Percy nod, Michael continued. "In regular battle, we will deploy in five battle lines. Since we number seventy legionaries in total, that's 14 legionaries per line. However, depending on our orders, we can also deploy into more or less battle lines. The structure stays the same, the rear lines are reserved for senior staff and triari, the middle lines are for principes, the front are for probatios. You can look up the explanations in a book I'll get for you. Got that so far?"

Percy nodded

"The only senior staff in our cohort is myself and you, so we'll be in the rear" seeing Percy's disapproval, Michael quickly finished. "you're in charge now, you can shuffle the battle lines however you want. I just kept it the same way that the Centurion before me did, and he from the one before me. Anyways, the Probies are training well, and they'll be able to hold their own. The others have enough experience that all they need it to be kept in shape. Nobody's service it coming to an end, so you don't need to worry about contracts or anything. In fact, you shouldn't have to deal with much paperwork at all as far as I know. Understood that?"

Percy nodded again

"Now to your other duties. Because you're Primus Pilus, you're the most senior officer in Rome besides the Praetors, so the other Centurions might look to you to guidance, and the Legionaries will definitely look to you to set an example, but I'm not going to insult you by explaining what that means. However, you're still just a Centurion, so you'll need to attend war councils, appear before the Senate, plan the cohorts training schedules and of course, win the War Games for us. Don't get me wrong, it's eye wateringly boring, but it has it's moments too. Got all that?"

Percy rubbed his temples. "This is all a little much."

Michael chuckled. "You're damn right it is. But you'll get the hang of it soon enough. Anything else you want to know?"

"Not right now. But thanks Mike. You've been a big help so far" Percy answered.

"Don't mention it. I'll go gather the cohort. I'm sure they're waiting for their esteemed Centurion to speak" Michael joked.

Percy laughed. He liked Mike. He was honest, down to earth and no nonsense, all things that Percy would need in the coming weeks. It was one hell of a culture shock, and Percy only hoped that he'd adjust easily.

He heard Mike bellowing orders in Latin before poking his head back into the barracks.

"They're ready for you sir."

Gone was the joking manner of Michael, and in it's place was a stony mask. This was the face of a soldier, not a someone helping another out adjusting to their new life.

Percy took a deep breath before stepping out into afternoon sun. He took in the seventy legionaries in front of him. He felt the responsibility of leadership settle onto his shoulders, and he knew that he wouldn't let these people down.

"Legionaries. As you know, I'm here to replace Mike. The Praetors watched him run around with baby powder falling out of his crack and decided that they needed a new Centurion." Just as Percy hoped, the legionaries snickered. It was a fifty-fifty between laughing and being insulted. The Romans however, where reminded of that hilarious prank that the probies managed to pull off. Percy had witnessed it firsthand while on a date. It definitely was one hell of a sight.

"Anyways, I suck at speeches, so I'm not going to rattle on about how awesome I am and how perfect I think I am. Instead, all I'm going to ask for a patience. I'm new to this whole thing, not just the Legion, but Rome as whole. So let me hand down my first order as Centurion: if there's something I'm not doing right, let me know. I want to be the best Centurion as I can, but a wise man once said that a leader is only as good as the men he leads, so I can't represent our Cohort in the proper manner if I don't have you all helping me stumble through Roman traditions." Percy continued.

Silence reigned for a few moments, before someone started the chant. It spread throughout the lines, until the entire Field of Mars was ringing with the sound of two very important words:

Ave Primus Pilus!

AN: Updates will as regular as I can, but work's going to get a little hectic for the next couple weeks. Unfortunately, that means writing's on the backburner again.

This story's going to have lots of Latin in it, and while I took three years of Latin in school, I haven't done anything with Latin in a very long time. So all those that know it better than me, let me know if there's anything wrong with it.

Aside from that, any questions I'll be happy to answer whenever I get the chance.

Have a great weekend!