There is a darkness brewing on the blue waters of the high seas, sitting in the shadows and waiting for its proper moment to strike. Whispers about its return are murmured amongst the peasant folk and gossiped about in the nobility, but they are jus...
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Annabeth straightened her back as she observed the hardworking crew, her hands clasped behind her back as the salty spray of the sea splattered only slightly on her pristine military uniform. Annabeth spent almost every minute of her morning, which started at 5:30 on the dot, reining in her blond curls. But a few still flittered out of the tight knot she had at the back of her head, framing her stern face.
"Chase!" General Atlas's voice called out from the captain's quarters. Annabeth rolled her eyes as she entered the quarters, ducking her through the shallow doorway and into the poorly lit cabin. Jason Grace, now broad-shouldered and grown, was standing next to general Atlas. Frank Zhang, still kind eyes but almost as muscled as Jason, stood beside him.
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"Yes?" Annabeth asked, the steel in her voice making it clear she didn't appreciate being summoned like some mongrel pup.
"As you know, I am going to be boarding our main vessel, The Aquila, in about an hour's time. Meanwhile, I am going to be leaving this very boat, Mary Anne, in the hands of one of my most finely trained pupils." General Atlas explained, his black beard combed and glinting lightly in the dull candlelight. Though Annabeth tried to restrain it, her gray eyes shone with hope. She made the slightest eye contact with Jason and Frank, who shared the same thought she did.
"Don't jump to conclusions." Atlas snapped. Annabeth bit her cheek, snapping back to attention.
"You, Miss Chase, were my first option. Ever since I found you drifting on that miserable scrap of wood, you have proven your strength, resilience, power, and strategic prowess over the 12 years you have been in my youth academy. Along with Mister Grace and Zhang, you three have been astonishing." General Atlas complimented, rubbing his finger over the trim of his desk. Annabeth made eye contact with Jason and Frank, all of them both flattered and worried about where the conversation was going.
"Thank you, sir-"
"But," Atlas snapped. Annabeth resisted the urge to cringe in her spot.
"But?" Jason asked.
"The performance during the last transport was tragic." General Atlas sighed. Annabeth swallowed, not allowing her fear to take president.
The last transport was the protection of... a slave trader ship. It tore Annabeth apart, having to stand back and watch as innocent people were traded and sold as property. As merchandise! But Annabeth was trained to obey orders, and Annabeth bit her tongue as she stood to watch over the trader ship, as did Frank. Annabeth tried to provide comfort to the slaves, promising them that one day they will be treated properly and with respect, trying to keep everything quiet. Jason, not as much. He was cursing out the traders, chewing out anybody who spit in the faces of the innocent people treated as cargo. Near the end of the trip, the three of them simply couldn't take it anymore. They made sure that the guards guarding the boat were off duty or mysteriously incapacitated, and the keys to their chains mysteriously ended up in the slave's cells.
