Commander Percy Jackson
As the crew scrambled to secure the ship and heave a gangway, a dozen or so militiamen armed with muskets in brown coats rushed towards their dock from a fortified barracks building. Heavy boots thundered on the wooden planks of the docks as men rushed to move into position through a thick crowd of merchants and tradesmen unloading cargo from a merchant vessel. As the men lined up facing the Argonaut, a carriage pulled up the end of the dock. The door swung open and two Naval Officers climbed out.
"We have the Commodore coming up," Beckendorf warned and then turned to the crew messing around with the gangway. "Gentlemen! The gangway if you will."
Percy glanced at the Officers coming up the dock from the parked carriage and cursed. Sure enough, it was the Commodore and a man who was likely his adjutant. As they headed down the pear they were joined by another officer who he presumed was the harbor master. Cursing under his breath he made sure his own uniform and his officer's tricorn were sitting straight.
Fortunately, the welcoming committee did not need to wait too long and only a few moments later Percy, Beckendorf, and the Stoll brothers in toe walked down the bobbing bridge to join them on the pear.
"Perseus Jackson, Master of the Argonaut, reporting for duty in the Scatter squadron. This is Charles Beckendorf, my first mate. And these fine Gentlemen are Travis and Connor Stoll," he introduced his most senior officers after saluting sharply. The Commodore was a handsome fellow, with sharp blue eyes and a scar that married his otherwise fine features. His hair was of a short light blond. The other was a darker skin tone, though not nearly as dark as Beckedorf, and had brown air and brown eyes. He was a burly, strong-looking fellow who would not have been out of place in a drunken bar brawl were it not for his uniform.
"Luke Castellan," the Commodore introduced himself and returned the salute. "Officer in charge of the Scatter Station. "This is Lieutenant Chris Rodriguez," he then proceeded to introduce his adjutant before extending his hand.
"Not that I'm not thrilled to make your acquaintance, but I was expecting another,..." Luke explained.
"Captain Hendrick died of fever during the voyage," Percy explained apologetically.
The Commodore's grin faded and the two men removed their hats. "Regrettable to hear that. We will have to talk more about this later. For now, I would like to invite you and Mr Beckendorf here to join a meeting at the Governor's residence. Your arrival has been quite timely indeed."
Percy shrugged. "Of course. Mr Stoll, you have the ship?"
The young man chuckled. "She will be here when you return, sir. Once she is secure, I will let the crew disembark for the night."
After one look back at the ship that had been his home for the past few months he followed Luke up the gangway, the militiamen snapping to a semblance of attention. as they passed. If they were marines, he was sure their Sergeant would have had them flogged. He knew that back on the ship the crew and passengers were eager to disembark and waste their money tearing down the local bars and brothels or starting to find some accommodations to move their families into.
Once they had climbed into the carriage Luke knocked on the grilled window in the wall over his head. "The Governor's residence!" the Commodore yelled over his shoulder. "Peter, take the scenic route!"
"Yes, my Lord!" the driver yelled back and Perseus heard a whip crack after which the carriage began to shake and wobble as it drove over cobblestone streets. For a minute or so Percy looked out of the window as they drove past stores, bars, and brothels.
"So," Perseus finally said. "Am I right to assume that you haven't offered me and my first mate a ride just for the sake of our company?"
"Hardly, Commodore Castellan agreed lightly. "I wanted to talk to you in person, bring you up to speed on the strategic picture before the Governor and Chase from the Foreign Office can dig their claws into you."
"I see the Bureaucrats are taking the Vanguard again," Perseus mused. "I hoped the out here I would escape them."
The adjutant chuckled. "Mr. Jackson, I fear you will have to flee further than our humble holdings here to escape their hold. They are as good as they get here, but it is best to get you up to speed before the pen-pushers can over-complicate things."
"That would certainly be appreciated," Perseus agreed.
"To summarize the situation, while all might seem good and well in Port Moray, the scatter is slipping from our grasp. In the three years I have commanded the squadron here, we have had two larger slave uprisings and one major popular revolt in our land here. Aside from that, we have the Titans and Republic making their opening moves."
"Forgive me if I speak out of turn," Beckendorf said after clearing his throat.
"Not at all, good sir," the Commodore assured him with a broad grin.
"But how does Argonaut fit into all this?" he asked, a reasonable question in Perseus's opinion.
"It gives us both flexibility and firepower. We cannot risk drawing Princess Andromeda away from our port. She needs to remain on station to keep the rats away from blockading us or picking off our merchants right outside the range of the port guns. Aside from the smaller vessels, that left us with the Relentless to project power, and now, of course, you. Now, the Relentless is a good ship but is lacking in the weight of her broadside. Argonaut gives us the ability to deliver significant firepower where we need it. I fear the six and nine-pounders of the rest of our squadron will not quite cut it, not with the Republic bringing in a ship of the line themselves if our spies are to be trusted. That is ignoring the rampant piracy and those pesky marauding natives."
Percy absorbed this, and wasn't sure how he felt about being dropped into this hornet's nest; he knew that their redeployment had been a matter of urgency, but hadn't been aware of how complex the situation was. Now, Percy was perfectly happy to engage the Titan or Republic fleets or nail a few pirates to the mast, but this... Well, it sounded like the kind of war where earning the Granite Cross and hanging for treason were uncomfortably close to each other.
"I take it Argonaut will not stay in port for too long then," he reasoned.
"Hardly, Mr. Jackson. A week or two at most. Obviously, your crew will need to make repairs and prepare Argonaut for a patrol as well as recover from your voyage out here, but it will not be long before we have work for you," Luke assured him.
"Now that you have the summary, you should know who holds power here in the Scatter. We have a triumvirate of sorts. There is us, for one, the Royal Fleet and our Marines. Then there is the Governor, obviously ruling in the name of the crown. He manages our interests on this island and, unfortunately, has direct control over the militia. They are an undisciplined bunch, the men of the local populace under the lead of some harpy. But number more than two thousand altogether," the Commodore said and grimaced. Remembering the brown-clad soldiers for a few minutes, Percy could privately only agree. "Then there are, of course, the Chase siblings, heading the Foreign Office's endeavors at this remote station."
Percy sighed deeply. "How is commerce?" he asked. "Any privateering interdicting our merchants yet?"
"No," Luke replied cautiously. "Not at this point in time. However, it could happen at any point that New Rome starts issuing such permits if they feel the time is right to carve out a bigger part of the Scatter. If they do that..." Luke trailed off.
"We will be hard-pressed to secure our trade," Percy concluded.
"Oh certainly. And you can be certain that when they do, the arsenal at Fort Ostia is bound to lose heavier naval guns that will find their way onto privateer vessels; even our armed merchants will be under significant pressure," Chris added in a far more grim tone.
"But enough strategizing for now, I will give you a full briefing tomorrow at the fort," Luke replied. "Now, what you need to know today: stay clear of the brothel down in the port. There is a more appropriate one on Down Street called Elysium if you are a gambling man; it will serve your needs well."
While flattered by the consideration, Percy had so far had very little use for either of the services the mentioned establishment offered. Quite frankly, having to buy his nightly entertainment had always struck him as quite pointless, especially when the daughters of the of the nobility seemed to consider the content of an officer's uniform quite irresistible. Now, back when he was sixteen, it had been something he had taken full advantage of whenever he was on solid land.
Having grown older, and at least somewhat less foolish since it was something he had stopped doing altogether.
"The bathhouse close to the citadel is rubbish, might as well jump into the bay," Luke continued on. "There is a better one further up on Main Street close to the Governor's estate. Opposite of that you will find the Eastern Royal Hotel, the most expensive of its sort. It also hosts the best location for more formal dining on this damned island."
As they rolled further uphill, the buildings became continuously taller and better kept with nearly every passing street. Where down at the port there had been workers and rougher sorts in general, the pedestrians were now considerably better dressed and less rowdy. Finally, their carriage pulled into a long driveway flanked by two militia men trying their best to snap to what could be interpreted as a position of attention, The pebbled path took them through white seemed like a mixture of a garden and park, complete with flowerbeds surrounding a few gazebo, tall hedges, and a few water fountains. They finally came to a sudden stop at the end of the driveway in a loop, the center of which was occupied by a particularly lavish fountain with a statue of a mounted rider of a man he did not recognize and a large wide set of wide marble stairs leading up to the door of a large, white-walled manner.
"We aren't the first," Chris Rodregrez noted, nodding over at several tied-up horses and a few carriages, the drivers of which seemed to be merrily passing the time with a game of cards. "Well, we aren't late either," Luke replied after checking a pocket chronometer.
They disembarked and walked up the stairs, with him and Luke walking in the front as the officers, and their seconds, Chris and Beckendorf behind. When Luke finally knocked on the front a young maid opened the door ajar and looked at them.
"Good afternoon, Ma'am," he greeted the maid with a grin. "We have an appointment with the Governor," he asked pleasantly.
The maid looked back and forth between them and then, blushing slightly she opened the door and let them in a generous oval entrance hall
"Gentlemen," a tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy blond hair and light blue eyes greeted them. "Our Lord Governor is expecting you, Lord Commodore. Forgive my ignorance, but who might you two gentlemen be?" the man asked looking first at Percy and then glancing at Beckendorf with well-hidden distaste. Percy would have missed it if he hadn't been looking for it.
"Introductions are in order I think, Argus," Luke interceeded.
"This is Captain Perseus Jackson, the Master of Argonaut. The newest addition to our squadron. And this Gentleman," he said, beckoning to Beckendorf. "Is Lieutenant Commander Charles Beckendorf, and now his first Officer. He has just arrived, and I have chosen to bring them along to get them up to speed. My gentlemen, this is Argus. The Buttler of this great house."
"A pleasure," Percy said for the sake of politeness, privately deciding he did not like the Buttler very much. Argus nodded his head in return before turning his attention back to Luke.
"Lord Commodore, will you and Mr Rodregrez wait in the Drawing Room? The Governor hoped to speak to two in private before the representatives of the Foreign Office arrive," he said.
"Mr. Jackson, Mr. Beckendorf, will you join the other guests on the back porch until the governor calls for the meeting? You will find both good company and refreshments there in the meantime," Argus offered, though he was certain it wasn't a suggestion.
He wasn't sure what he expected, but a garden party wasn't it. Over two dozen men and women were gathered on the porch. A young gentleman in a dark-tailored suit was playing on a piano, while the guests were standing around in groups chatting. Servants were hovering over the group, with trays burdened with refreshments and snacks. After more than three months on sea, this casual party struck him almost as obscenely luxurious in comparison. Especially the women in their fine, colorful dresses, and oppulant hair dues.
"So this is how the other half lives," Beckendorf asked somewhat bemused, seemingly unaware of the glances he was getting. Though be it from prejidous, or his imposing stature, Percy could not quite tell.
"You should see the great balls at the Royal Palace in Athica or Atlantis," Percy muttered in a low voice. "This is nothing."
"Obviously," Beckendorf said. "But I grew up in the gutters of Tolosk. If I hadn't snuck onto the Royal Providence and been caught as a stowaway, that is where I would still be. Regardless of who my father was. This is something else..."
Percy sighed deeply; it was easy to get carried away by the music, the color, and the dancing. Especially for those who hadn't grown up navigating this terrain. Well, he hadn't either, but he had learned quickly. "No one is here for the joy of it," Percy warned. "This is all a facade. To use the words of another, there are daggers behind every smile. To these people, this isn't pleasure. This is their labor."
Beckendorf snorted. "If this is labor..."
"Well," Percy admitted, "it does come with a few perks, I will admit," he said as a pretty young maid walked up to them and offered them refreshments. Her skin was as dark as Beckendorf's, and it struck him that she was likely one of the many slaves that toiled away in the far reaches of their Empire. Percy accepted a glass of iced lemonade, steering clear of the wine and stopping Beckendorf before the man accepted one for himself. Now was not the time for clouded judgment. Perhaps his concern was misplaced, though, because before long Beckendorf was mingling with the crowd as if he had never done anything else. He was something of a curiosity, Percy guessed. And though quite a few looked at him with contempt, others were intrigued.
Not overly eager to subject himself to the world of politics quite so soon, he left the porch and finally sat down on the edge of a water fountain in the back garden and closed his eyes. For a few minutes, he enjoyed the breeze in his hair as he listened to birds singing. It was hot and humid, and were it not for the mild sea breeze, the heat would soon become unbearable. His uniform had been made for colder climates as it was, and his shirt was sticking to his skin from sweat. As much as he loved the sea, it was good to be back on land.
"You are in the Royal Fleet, right?" a well-articulated and pleasantly cool female voice asked.
Percy opened his eyes and looked to his left, and his jaw nearly dropped. Sitting on the edge of the fountain, only a few steps from him, sat one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She looked like a princess, and not like the real ones, but like the ones from the old fairy tales. She had elegant features with high cheekbones that gave her a regal, and proud appearance. Her warm, tanned complexion and long golden blond curls only added to the allure.
"Pardon me?" he stammered, trying hard to get his mind back on task.
"Forgive me, my name is Annabeth, Annabeth Chase," she said, her expression breaking into a quite lovely smile. Her cheeks were flushed in the afternoon's sweltering heat, and beads of sweat coated her forehead and smooth throat.
Percy rose to his feet and straightened up. "Percy Jackson, Master to the Argonaut. Yes, Ma'am. I am with the Royal Fleet!"
"The Argonaut?" she asked, her face contorting in confusion for a few seconds before lighting up with delayed recognition. "Oh, the ship that arrived today? I watched you come in from my balcony."
"Yes, we arrived today," he said, feeling oddly self-conscious suddenly.
"She is a most beautiful vessel," the woman gushed. "Do you go to sea a lot?"
"It comes with a life in the Fleet," Percy said evenly, finally regaining proper use of his voice.
Now, Percy, just like every sensible man, did not mind being fawned over, but he mentally steeled himself to keep his guard up. It was hardly the first time civilians, especially women in his experience, tended to have an overly romanticized view of life at sea. Probably, he figured, due to them reading romantic novels based in the environment, written by authors who knew next to nothing about ships or the ocean. However, his reserve also came from another fact. Back in the Royal Fleet Academy, they had expressly and repeatedly drilled young officer cadets to be cautious when approached by young women. Not that he was paranoid, nor wished to throw around accusations, but the saying "Loose lips sink ships" existed for a reason.
The beautiful woman looked him over with obvious interest, and when he met her eyes, a most remarkable rare shade of stormy gray, he smiled back despite himself.
"You must have been to many exciting places," the young woman gushed.
Despite spending over a decade at sea, he truthfully hadn't. He hadn't actually stepped foot on land outside the home isles, and in none of the few port calls in foreign lands had he ever had the opportunity to actually disembark.
"I have been to a few," he replied, trying to keep his gaze on her face, and not the generous amount of cleavage offered by the young woman's dress. Not that he paid it much attention, but she wore her corset to great effect.
"And your ship," she trailed off in reverence. "I love ships; they are the most impressive of creations. Sailing off into the horizon and braving storms and monsters must be marvelous."
"They are, but Argonaut is among the smaller vessels in the fleet," Percy agreed, trying to fight back a smile. Deciding he wasn't getting rid of the curious woman without getting rude, he turned to face her. "So, Ms. Chase? What is your story?"
The woman shrugged her slender shoulders in a way that let the dress ripple in rather interesting ways. Then she drew a fan from a light silk sleeve, opened it, and began to fan herself. If he was uncomfortable in his uniform, she must be dying in that dress of hers. "I came to the scatter with my mother and brother a few years ago from Olympus. My mother returned; we stayed," she said. "You know, carrying on the family business."
"Family business?" Percy asked. "Are you a Merchant Family, or..."
Before Ms. Chase could reply, though, Beckendorf caught his eye and called him over with an upwards-tilted nod. "Forgive me, Ma'am, but I think my first officer is trying to get my attention there."
"And here I thought we were getting acquainted," the woman replied, though not seemingly too disappointed. He hated to leave a bad impression, especially with a pretty woman he was bound to run into again.
Percy rose to his feet, took off his hat, and bowed slightly to the woman.
"My apologies," he said, smiling apologetically, and then swiftly walked through the crowd and joined Beckendorf at the piano, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.
"These people," he said as if not quite sure if he should be offended or bemused. "I had a woman ask me how a slave got to wear a uniform."
"She thinks you are a slave?" Percy asked mildly, keeping his voice low.
"I think she thought I used to be one. Who knows, probably owns one of the tobacco or sugar plantations around here. Not the most pleasant woman, I must say." he replied.
"You are a Naval Officer, sir. The prejudice or ridiculous assertions of some Colony Harlot are of no concern to you," Percy counseled, hoping it was the way to go. It wasn't something he had quite accounted for. Where in the Home Fleet, a dark-skinned Officer would be considered a novelty, and perhaps face some resistance from the thicker-headed parts of the ranks, it wouldn't rock the metaphorical boat too much. Especially if the rest of higher society took great offense to such an occurrence, chances were that the officer carda would close ranks around Beckendorf just to spite the rest of the court, regardless of how they felt about it on a personal level. It only now occurred to him that here things might be different.
"And you? That blond, she looks like a fine woman,..."
"I imagine she is," Percy agreed and shrugged.
They were saved from further deliberations by Argus approaching them.
"Mr. Jackson, Mr. Beckendorf. The Lord Governor would be most eager to meet you," the Butler announced.
As Percy followed, he was struck by the odd sensation of being watched. And when he looked around, he spotted the beautiful woman from earlier staring at him. None of the earlier warmth was there, and her gray eyes were hard and narrowed. Noticing him looking back at her, her expression instantly softened and her gaze smoothly slipped away as if having never paid him more than a spare glance. Suddenly something cold ran down his spine and the day no longer felt quite so warm.
He quickly looked away as well, not certain she had even been looking at him. He stepped back into the welcome shade of the large house and was led up polished mahogany steps into the first floor. The further they headed into the three-story building, the more opulent it grew. The purple carpets were thick enough for an entire tribe of savages to hide in and lavish tapestries of satyrs and nymphs frolicking adorned the wall while the ceiling was adorned with life gold adorned frescoes and other pieces of artistry.
Finally, they were let into the drawing room. It was furnished as lavishly as the rest of the building, with comfortable heavily upholstered armchairs and small tables supporting crystal bottles containing golden liquid. The Commodore and his second were present, each holding a crystal glass filled with golden liquor. A younger gentleman about Percy's age with light blond hair, vaguely familiar high cheekbones, and gray eyes also sported a glass. Finally, a short man, with a swollen nose, flushed cheeks, and bloodshot, colorless eyes was sporting a glass of wine and was running a nervous hand through his hair.
"Ah, Percy Jackson," the man greeted him and rose on not the most steady feet after slapping a white wig onto his head.
"Lord Governor Dionysus, I presume," Percy said and stood at attention, Beckendorf mirroring the posture next to him.
"Commodore Castellan told me of your arrival and it took the Fleet long enough to send us some more support out here. Well, take a seat. Drinks?" he grunted.
"Yes, sir," Percy replied, knowing better than to turn it down. "Ah, very good. By the way, this is Sir Malcolm Chase from His Majesty's Foreign Office."
"It is Percy Jackson, my Lord. This is Lieutenant Commander Charles Beckendorf," he then introduced his second officer as they sat down on the empty sofa and pulled off their hats while the Governor poured them glasses of whiskey and exchanged a curt glance with the gentleman.
"I believe I have made the acquaintance of your sister earlier," Percy guessed conversationally, the familiarity in the young man's features suddenly striking. All the men visibly paused for a moment before Malcolm cracked a cool smile. "My condolences on that, sir."
"As I was saying, Lord Governor," Luke said more animatedly, picking up their earlier conversation. "With Argonaut on the station, we have considerably more options at our disposal. I am hopeful we can get one solid patrol out of her before the storm season reaches its peak."
"What do you think, Captain," Malcolm asked calmly. "We were made aware that Argonaut will not be ready for patrol for another week or two at the very least."
Not sure what he was stumbling into, he shrugged. "Technically, all we need to do is some maintenance, and refill our stores. That can be done in a few days if we really scramble. But I would advise giving the crew some more time in port. For one, they aren't quite acclimated to the climate yet."
"I thought so," Malcolm mused. "I imagine sending them out so soon won't be too good for morale either."
"Hardly," Percy agreed.
"Besides, I believe we can find some more efficient uses than just sending an asset like Argonaut out to show the flag against pirates," Malcolm added softly.
"Piracy is hurting commerce," Dionysus replied bluntly.
Luke sighed deeply, and Percy got the feeling that this was a frequent point of contention. "I am sure I can find an acceptable solution. Argonaut is a vessel of the Royal Fleet, and as such I fear both of you have fairly little say in what her assignment is going to be in the end." Luke then glanced over at Percy, catching his eye.
"Gentlemen," Malcolm chided them. "Mr. Jackson and Mr. Beckendorf have barely sat down and here we are, already tearing each other apart. Lord Governor, for the sake of our cooperation I suggest we stay in our lanes. The efficient allocation of our naval resources is the duty of the Commodore. I do not see him trying to tell me how to run this island."
"Especially because I would be quite bad at it," Luke offered humorously. Malcolm, to his credit, only smiled patiently and did not rise to the provocation.
"Very well," the Governor muttered. "There are more matters than ships. What are those damned natives up to?"
Malcolm shrugged. "That is a question for the Commander of the Militia and his second to report on later during the briefing. But to summarize, that particular front is an ongoing affair as far as I understand it."
The conversation turned to more mundane things like supply levels of the fleet and citadel with everything from ammunition to food stocks to readiness levels of certain ships and officer assignments, and by the time Argus knocked to inform them the rest of the expected guests had arrived.
They headed back down to the ground floor to a meeting room with a large table and a small crowd of men and surprisingly also women awaiting them. One particularly mean and brutish of the women even wore the brown uniform of the militia. Then there was also a temple priest. Some were sitting, and others standing around in small groups. Light flooded in from four windows on one wall, while the other was occupied by large maps, diagrams, and other charts that he couldn't quite make out.
After a round of greetings in which Percy managed to not catch a single name, nor actually introduce himself to anyone, did the Governor call for everyone to take their seats.
They settled into their seats to the left of Castellan and his adjutant, as the Governor took his place at the head of the table.
Malcolm chose the seat one seat removed from Percy. A number of civilians, including the Priest, slid into the opposing rows of seats. Beckendorf, positioned next to the Commodore's adjutant, had the foresight to procure a pen, ink pot, and paper from a nearby table, poised to record the proceedings.
Luke's attempt to speak was interrupted by the door swinging open, revealing the elegant figure of the woman whom Percy had met previously. Ms. Chase fanned herself leisurely, a bag clasped in her other hand, her gaze sweeping the room and pausing briefly on Percy.
"Ah, Ms. Chase," greeted the Governor, lifting his wine glass in her direction. "Your presence graces us. You all remember Ms. Chase, of course."
Her entrance drew a muttered remark from the rugged woman beside the Priest, earning a disapproving glare in return.
"Apologies for my late arrival; an urgent letter demanded my attention," Ms. Chase said, disregarding the undercurrents of attention as she approached the table. Percy, noticing the sole vacant chair beside him, stood abruptly, almost toppling his own chair in the process, and gallantly pulled it out for her.
Despite a flush of embarrassment, he managed a composed expression.
"Ma'am," he greeted hand on his saber, offering a respectful nod. Ms. Chase held his gaze, a flicker of amusement in her eyes, before gracefully accepting the seat he offered.
"Thank you, Captain," she acknowledged, settling into her chair as Percy resumed his own.
Beckendorf's whispered commendation, "Well played. Very dignified," barely broke the ripple of amusement through the room. Annabeth, with a discretion born of grace, pretended not to notice the exchange or the collective interest it sparked.
"Now, with everyone present, let us introduce our guest, Commander Peter Johnson for one," Dionysus began. A whisper from Luke prompted a quick correction. "Ah, yes, Percy Jackson. He captains the new arrivals in our harbor and is here to understand our challenges. And the...," his doubtful glance towards Beckendorf prompted an introduction, "gentleman beside him serves as his second."
"Well Captain," the priest said, smiling at him. "I am Father Charles Brunner. As you might have guessed, I am a shepherd to the flock in the Scatter. On behalf of the temple, I welcome you as a guardian of the flock."
"Major Clarisse La Rue," the brutish woman grunted. "I am second in command of the Scatter militia."
Percy smiled politely and then listened as the rest of the attendees introduced themselves. They were a list of local plantation owners and other members of the community, most of whom had their wealth to thank for their seat at the table.
"Yeah, whatever. Now that the formalities have been observed, let us get to the point. Commodore Castellan, will you enlighten us about the state of the fleet this month?"
A tight smile plastered on his face, Luke pulled a few papers from a bag offered by Rodriguez. "Gentlemen, Ladies. For obvious reasons, I cannot divulge too much information, but to summarize for those attending, Relentless is getting ready to head out as we speak and will remain on Patrol for at least the next two weeks, concentrating on the area of the Western Banks. She will be taking over for the Archer. Also, as you have already learned, Argonaut, under Commander Percy Jackson, has officially been added to our ranks. We will be putting the Commander's services to good use in the weeks to come. The farmers among you will be pleased to learn that our Marines have concluded their exercise and have returned to their barracks in Fort Ashton, so your fields are safe for the time being. The vessels Snowball and Brimstone also returned from patrol this morning. I fear there is not too much to say."
Judging by the rest of this ad hoc council's reaction, they barely understood a word of what the Commodore had reported, and soon one by one the city's officials made their reports until finally, the metaphorical cup reached Malcolm.
"My department has nothing to report, I will allow my sister to pick it up from here," he announced illusively, nodding at the young woman next to Percy.
The young woman's gaze swept the table, her eyes cold. She now had very little in common with the woman he had met earlier, Percy thought. Then it struck him that her almost flirtatious demeanor when approaching him earlier had been less than sincere. The thought made him sad, though he had not exchanged more than a few pleasantries with her.
"The Special Service has nothing to report at this point in time. Rest assured, all information uncovered is processed, and any pertinent intelligence, especially including information concerning piracy, has been passed on to the Governor, the Fleet, and of course General Ares."
It wasn't much of a briefing, Percy thought. Then again, he should not be surprised if no actually useful information was shared in a meeting with attendees like this. The briefing only began to get more informative when it was La Rue's turn. The woman strolled over to a map of what Percy recognized as the island. "Ladies, Gentlemen. My father apologizes for not being here, but he is in the field. We were caught off balance with that one raid, I will admit that. But we are reacting. We have pushed two companies out to our outpost at the big lake," she announced, pointing at the map. "And our scouts have managed to locate a village here." She then pointed at a location on the map. "So if they try anything else, we have a good place to hit back at. We also assume that the slaves that escaped recently have joined ranks with the savages, so keep your eyes open in case they turn up again. If they do, report it to your local constable or a militia guard post."
It wasn't, Percy thought, so much a strategic-level briefing. It seemed more like some sort of circus where the Scatter's rich and wealthy got to feel important while His Majesty's servants humored them with half-hearted reports. Sure enough, soon the meeting devolved into a lively debate about far more mundane topics like grain prices, a particularly violent bar fight, and other such topics. He largely kept his thoughts to himself, though, only quietly marveling at the pace the Governor's servants were forced to refill his wine glass.
Once the members of this peculiar council had heard their own voices enough, the meeting was finally concluded and they filed back out. Most of the crowd hurried back out to the little party in the backyard, including the Governor, leaving him standing there with the group that Percy realized actually ran the damn territory.
"Well, I have to be back to Achaea before dawn, so I better get going," La Rue finally grunted.
"Fair travels to you," Luke replied smoothly.
"It will be if it doesn't start raining again," she grunted and briskly strolled off.
"Malcolm, Annabeth, is our ten o'clock for tomorrow still on?" The Commodore asked lightly.
"Wouldn't miss it," Malcolm said dryly.
"Brilliant. Mr. Jackson, Mr. Beckendorf, I think we owe you a ride back down to port. I can have barracks arranged for you and your crew tomorrow, or you are at liberty to find accommodations down in the harbor. Come up to my office when you can." Luke announced.
So, the second chapter is up. Did some more editing. And here we go. Do leave Reviews
With regards,
HJL over and out