Struck by Lightning

XVI

They did, however, leave notes for each other. With such mundane tasks like running messages or standing guard in front of a room, they had plenty of time to take note of everything that they saw. As such, they each kept a running tally of how many monsters and humans they saw onboard, to better keep track of how large this contingent of Kronos' army was and the disposition of enemy forces. They also made notes on priority locations, like weapon storage facilities and command centers, as well as important people such as commanders.

Zoë, on the other hand, had gone completely native. In the near-week that he and Thalia had been onboard the Princess Andromeda, Percy had not talked to the former Hunter a single time, and had only seen her twice from a distance, both times in the company of mid-ranking people on the ship. Evidently, she was working her way up the intelligence foodchain. There had been zero contact between them and her, but both demigods trusted that Zoë was working on something.

A passing-by soldier bumped into Percy, nearly elbowing the wind out of him.

"Hey!" Percy grunted, annoyed at the hit. He looked down at his armor, noticing it a small white slip that had been slid into the crack between his torso armor and pants. Quickly looking back up, he caught a glimpse of dark brown hair turning around the corner, gone before he could even reach out or mutter a cry to.

Zoë, Percy realized. He grabbed the small slip of paper, unfolding it to read its hurried scribble.

Staff meeting. C103.

-Z

Innocuous and to the point. Percy looked back up. That person was definitely Zoë. If he was reading the situation correctly, she wanted him to sneak into the meeting or eavesdrop in on it. That meant it could be something important, like the plan for an attack on the Camp. Percy got ready to start heading down the decks but stopped as he realized his position. He couldn't. He was a lowly guard, and if he left, he would be hunted down as a deserter or a traitor – which, in all fairness, he technically was, unless never being loyal discounted being a traitor.

"What do I do," Percy muttered to himself, before he saw another guard walk past him. This one, he recognized, was Darv, a son of a minor god that had his own grievances against Olympus. However, from what Percy remembered of Darv's interactions with other guards onboard, he was something of a pushover.

"Yo, Darv," Percy greeted, moving slightly and waving out an arm to keep the demigod from going too far. Darv turned a suspiciously looked at Percy, not recognizing him.

"Fenrir," Percy supplied, anticipating the reaction. "Anyway, I really gotta go... you know, use the can. The little demigod's room. And I'm really not supposed to leave this post. Can you cover?"

"I-I'm not sure if that's allowed," Darv quietly replied, his timidity showing through his thin veneer of toughness and roughness. "Maybe you should ask your commande..." Percy waved him off.

"Just this once man, I'll seriously owe you one if you cover me here." Darv looked down for a few moments, before he nodded.

"Good man," Percy praised, slapping a hand on Darv's shoulder as he took Percy's former spot. For his part, Percy just ran down the stairs that led to the lower decks.

C103. That means it's two decks down. Percy quickly turned the corner and rushed down another set of stairs, arriving on Deck C. Unfortunately, he didn't expect to see a gated corridor, complete with two guards standing at the end. Quickly moving to avoid them, he slipped into a restroom right beside the staircase.

"What do I do?" Percy whispered to himself, staring as his own visage in the mirror. He had taken off his helmet, letting it sit on the sink as he splashed his face with cold water. Looking up, he blinked as he saw an air ventilation duct above the leftmost mirror in the bathroom.