𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. ── 𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞

𝐢. 𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞... 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫?

UNTIL SHE MET THE EXPLODING STATUE, Andy thought she was prepared for anything.

She'd paced the deck of their flying warship, the Argo II, checking and double-checking the ballistae to make sure they were locked down. She confirmed that the white "We come in peace" flag was flying from the mast, and that Leo wasn't hanging on it, screaming My Heart will go On at the top of his lungs. It was a genuine issue. Annabeth, on the other hand, was going around, and reviewed the plan with the rest of the crew—and the backup plan, and the backup plan for the backup plan.

Most important, she pulled aside their war-crazed chaperone, Coach Gleeson Hedge, and encouraged him to take the morning off in his cabin and watch reruns of mixed martial arts championships. The last thing they needed as they flew a magical Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp was a middle-aged satyr in gym clothes waving a club and yelling "Die!" Everything seemed to be in order. Even that mysterious chill she'd been feeling since the ship launched had dissipated, at least for now.

The warship descended through the clouds, but Andy couldn't stop second-guessing herself. What if this was a bad idea? What if the Romans panicked and attacked them on sight?

The Argo II definitely did not look friendly. Two hundred feet long, with a bronze-plated hull, mounted repeating crossbows fore and aft, a flaming metal dragon for a figurehead, and two rotating ballistae amidships that could fire explosive bolts powerful enough to blast through concrete...well, it wasn't the most appropriate ride for a meet-and-greet with the neighbors.
The crew had tried to give the Romans a heads-up. Annabeth herself had asked Leo to send one of his special inventions—a holographic scroll—to alert their friends inside the camp. Hopefully the message had gotten through. Leo had wanted to paint a giant message on the bottom of the hull—WASSUP? with a smiley face—but practically everyone vetoed that idea. They weren't sure the Romans had a sense of humor.

Too late to turn back now.

The clouds broke around their hull, revealing the gold-and-green carpet of the Oakland Hills below them. Andy gripped one of the bronze shields that lined the starboard rail in her free hand, and her four crewmates took their places.

She looked down at her outfit, which she had carefully selected: a blue crop-tank, (as to not show preference to CHB or Camp Jupiter), black flare jeans, and Jason's fleece jacket. Every time she wore the jacket, Jason's eyes seemed to twinkle a little bit, so she couldn't resist bringing it on the quest. Oh yeah, and the fact that it was the most comfortable jacket she owned. Thanks, Aphrodite. 

On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling levers. Most helmsmen would've been satisfied with a pilot's wheel or a tiller. Leo had also installed a keyboard, monitor, aviation controls from a Learjet, a dubstep soundboard, and motion-control sensors from a Nintendo Wii. He could turn the ship by pulling on the throttle, fire weapons by sampling an album, or raise sails by shaking his Wii controllers really fast. Even by demigod standards, Leo was seriously ADHD.

Piper paced back and forth between the mainmast and the ballistae, practicing her lines.
"Lower your weapons," she murmured. "We just want to talk." Her charmspeak was so powerful, the words flowed over Andy, filling her with the desire to drop her sword and have a nice long chat. For a child of Aphrodite, Piper tried hard to play down her beauty. Today she was dressed in tattered jeans, worn-out sneakers, and a white tank top with pink Hello Kitty designs. (Maybe as a joke, though she could never be sure with Piper.) Her choppy brown hair was braided down the right side with an eagle's feather.

Then there was Andy's... situationship? Significant other? Boyfriend?: Jason. The both of them hadn't truly put a label on it yet, but she'd like to think that they were dating. He stood at the bow on the raised crossbow platform, where the Romans could easily spot him. His knuckles were white on the hilt of his golden sword. Otherwise, he looked calm for a guy who was making himself a target. Over his jeans and orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, he'd donned a toga and a purple cloak—symbols of his old rank as praetor. With his medium length, wind-ruffled blond hair and his icy blue eyes, he looked ruggedly handsome and in control—just like a son of Jupiter should. He'd grown up at Camp Jupiter, so hopefully his familiar face would make the Romans hesitant to blow the ship out of the sky. Andy wanted to kiss him, but she wasn't sure how much he liked PDA yet, but she was anxious to do it before they saw Percy. So, you know, Percy didn't try to kill Jason in protective brother fashion, though she was sure Jason could hold his own.