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Annabeth was absolutely livid.
It was bad enough that Perseus Jackson had just waltzed into classes three weeks into their second year at the academy, but did he also have to be so damn arrogant about everything, too?
Everyone knew that he was only at the Academy because of nepotism. His father had been instrumental to the invention to the water recycling systems used in every deep space vessel. If Annabeth was completely honest, before meeting his mediocre spawn, she had a lot of respect for him and his contributions. But her respect for the brilliant scientist and inventor was fast being eclipsed with his clear failure as a father. A person only needed to stand in Perseus Jackson’s general orbit for fifteen or so seconds before the obnoxious bastard name dropped his famous dad.
Annabeth was beyond over it.
“Maybe you should let slip who your mom is,” Piper told her in the cafeteria after Annabeth had found herself ranting once again as Jackson worked a crowd of clout chasing idiots outside in the solar yard. “He’s not the only one here with a kick ass parent.”
“I never even knew my mom,” Annabeth responded, more sharply than she had intended. She sighed. “Sorry, Pipes. But I’m not going to use the name of a woman who died four months after I was born in order to gain some imaginary popularity points. She’s not the reason I am where I am today. Everything I’ve accomplished has been because of hard work, not who my mom was.”
“It won’t matter after tomorrow,” Piper said. “There’s no way you won’t be the Cohort Captain.”
Annabeth smiled at Piper’s certainty. It was based in facts; Annabeth had been top in their cohort since the very first round of midterms their first year at the Academy. But she also knew that the faculty took more than just academics into consideration when selecting cohort officers. Still, based on her glowing progress reports, top test scores, and history of volunteer work for the Academy, she wasn’t expecting any surprises to come the following afternoon.
Annabeth did not fidget or twitch or nervously babble the way her fellow cohort members did, all piled into the Academy’s main assembly hall. She kept her body perfectly under control and her tone and facial expressions mild as she and Piper made light conversation. She had woken up extra early to smooth her curly hair into an appropriately neat and modest bun at the base of her skull, and she had made sure that her red Academy uniform was steamed and pressed to perfection. She had waited for this day since she was a child — the day all of her hard work and dedication had led up to. Today, she would be named Captain of her Academy Cohort, the first real step towards becoming the captain of a real ship.
The doors at the back of the stage opened and the entire cohort fell silent as the members of the Selection Committee made their way to their seats in an orderly line, with Professor Chiron, the Head of the Committee, taking to the podium.
“Thank you for joining us here today, Cohort Twelve,” he began without much pomp or circumstance.
“It seems as if I was only just welcoming you to your first semester, and already, we are at our mid program officer selection. I know that each of you in this room have worked hard in the hopes of securing one of these coveted positions in this program. We have taken into account every facet of your person when making our final decisions
“If you are not selected as an officer today, please do not despair. This is not the end of your journey. There are still two more years left in your training, and we are always looking for students who have what it takes to advance in the ranks.
“If you are selected, your hard work is not over. It has only just begun. Being an officer comes with many benefits, but it also requires great dedication and personal sacrifice. If you prove yourself unwilling or unable to put forth the effort, you will find your position swiftly reassigned. Now, we shall move on to announce the officer positions. All other assignments will be posted outside of this assembly hall as soon as we adjourn.”
He shuffled his papers and cleared his throat. The silence in the hall grew tense. Despite their earlier demeanor, Piper and Annabeth grasped each other’s hands and squeezed in anticipation.
“First Linguistics Officer,” Chiron read, and Piper’s grip on Annabeth’s fingers tightened until they felt like they might break. “Piper McLean.”
Piper let out a huge sigh of relief as the hall clapped for her. Annabeth shook her shoulder excitedly and gave her a massive smile of support and congratulations.
“First Mechanical Officer,” Chiron continued. “Charles Beckendorf.”
And so he read off his list of names, allowing for polite clapping between each of the first and then second officers. None of the names were much of a surprise. All of the officer positions went to students who had been top in their chosen specialities. Linguistics, Engineers, Medical, Weapons, Mechanical; the officers were drawn from the cream of the crop, the students who had stood out among the crowd from day one.
“And finally,” Chiron said at last, having called the last of the specialities. “It is time to announce the Captain of Cohort 12. Or, in this case, captains.”
Whispers spread through the crowd. Annabeth’s heart races. Captains? Plural?
“Yes,” Chiron continued over the swell of whispers. “This year, after much deliberation and consideration, the Committee felt that there were two students who were both ideal candidates for the role of Captain, and we have made the decision to select both as Co-captains of the Cohort. It has been many years since more than a single captain was chosen to lead a cohort, but I’m certain that these two exemplary students are up to the challenge.
“Cohort 12, please welcome your Co-Captains. Annabeth Chase —”
Annabeth’s heart soared and swelled. Piper was bouncing in her seat.
“ — and Perseus Jackson.”
Her heart promptly crashed.
“What?” Annabeth couldn’t stop herself from saying out loud, sharp and incredulous.
Piper, also suddenly more sober and serious than just a second before, nudged her with her shoulder as the auditorium clapped — for her!
And Perseus Jackson.
Chiron adjourned the assembly and the rest of the cohort filed out to find their positions on the ship while the chosen officers made their ways to the stage to thank Chiron and the other members of the committee for their consideration and belief in them as students and leaders.
Jackson had beaten her to Chiron’s side.
“Congratulations, Captain Chase,” Chiron said with a smile. “I look forward to seeing you take these next steps towards running your own ship one day.”
“Thank you, Professor Chiron,” Annabeth responded with a respectful bow of her head. She let her eyes drift to Jackson’s face, that smug, overly confident face. He hadn’t even bothered to tame his wild black hair. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore him. “I do have some concerns about… the unusual nature of this year’s officer selections, though.”
“What are your concerns, Captain?” Jackson asked with a smile. Annabeth resisted the urge to clench her teeth.
“I’m concerned that…” She paused. Trying to pick her words carefully. “That, perhaps, there being two Cohort Captains instead of just one won’t… adequately prepare either of us for the realities of leadership.”
“How so?” Chiron asked.
“Well, I can’t speak for… Captain Jackson, but I hope to be a ship captain one day. I worry that having a second captain to… split responsibilities with means I won’t fully understand what it means to lead on my own.
Chiron nodded, thinking for a moment before speaking.
“I know that you had your sights set on Cohort Captain since you enrolled in the Academy,” he said at last. “And I know that having a co-captain was never a part of your vision. But I think that having to work with another captain as a team is an invaluable skill, and can only strengthen your leadership abilities, not weaken them. Learning how to communicate and work through disagreements to present a united front for your crew will ultimately make you — both of you — a better captain.
Annabeth felt deflated. His reasoning was sound. There was no room for further argument.
She plastered a fragile smile on her face. “Thank you for this amazing opportunity, Professor,” she said, hoping that she sounded genuine. “I’m not going to let you down.”
Chiron placed one hand on Annabeth’s shoulder. “I know you won’t. You are every bit as bright and dedicated as your mother was. I know that she would be proud of everything that you have accomplished.”
This time, her smile was genuine. “Thank you, sir. I wish she could see where I am now.”
Chiron turned to Piper. “Congratulations, Officer McLean,” he told her. “There was no doubt in our minds that you were the best choice for the position, what with your beautiful translation of Ovid’s Heroides last term.”
“Hey, can we talk?” Jackson asked her quietly as Chiron and Piper talked about her translation process and how she was currently learning several American tribal languages. She didn’t particularly care to speak with him, but unless the Committee changed their minds, Annabeth was going to have to learn not only how to talk to Jackson, but also how to work with him. As equals.
She nodded and he led her to a side exit, away from the massive crowd outside the main hall and the small group of professors and new offices.
“Look, I know you don’t like me,” he began.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Annabeth asked flatly.
“I just got some feeling,” he deadpanned back. “Anyways, I get it. But just because our parents didn’t get along —”
“What?” Annabeth interrupted. “How do you even know who my mother is?”
He looked at her with his brow knit together. “My dad told me. He and your mom worked together, back before she… Well, they didn’t really get along, which is putting it mildly. Like, I’m pretty sure that some of their arguments actually came to blows. I thought that’s why you didn’t like me?”
“No, I don’t like you because you’re an annoying showboat who never takes anything seriously and who only got into this Academy because of your father’s name. I didn’t even know that our parents knew each other.”
He let out a long, low whistle. “Yikes,” he responded after a moment. “You realize that I had to take the same entrance exam that you did, right? It’s not like my dad took it for me.”
“And you skipped an entire year, and showed up almost a month into classes,” she pointed out. “Your dad may not have taken the exam for you, but he kept you from starting behind, like you should have.”
“But I caught up,” he said. “I may be ‘an annoying showboat’, but I’ve still worked hard. Even if I like to have a good time and not always treat classes like they’re life and death.”
Annabeth held his gaze evenly.
“Besides, the Committee clearly things I’m capable of being Captain. Equally capable as you, or else they would have just made you captain instead of both of us.”
She had no idea why they thought that. But then again, she had always know that her fatal flaw was hubris. She had always worked hard to keep it hidden, but maybe it had prevented her from giving Perseus Jackson a fair shake.
She sighed. Maybe it was time to swallow that deadly pride and accept the reality of her situation.
“You’re right,” she said at last. “Whatever I may have felt about you in the past, the Committee thinks that we both have what it takes to be a captain.”
Jackson smiled at her. “You know, I don’t think we were ever properly introduced,” he pointed out.
Annabeth laughed in surprise. “Yeah, I don’t actually think we were,” she admitted and stuck out her hand to him. “I’m Annabeth Chase.”
He took her hand and gave it a friendly shake. “Nice to meet you, Annabeth. I’m Percy Jackson.”