Chapter Text
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I’m from District Twelve. Was. I was from District Twelve. My tiny moon, like so many other places, has been bombed to obliteration by the Capitol in this sudden war. Well, I shouldn’t say sudden. Apparently, there’s an entity called the Federation. They’ve been hovering over us, watching for years, ready to step in once our planet made a first move. That move was bombing its moon, Twelve.
I ball my hands into fists, crushing the thin grey blanket I was assigned my first night on the starship Freedom, biting my lip so I don’t start screaming and wake up Prim. Thinking about the bombing brings back all of the terrible memories of my expedition into the destruction. Coin hadn’t wanted me to go, but Plutarch convinced her to let me. I don’t know what he had to tell her – maybe that it would be good for my stability – but she approved it and I beamed down to the planet with two red-shirted members of Security.
The skulls are what I remember. I had thought maybe I would be able to tell who people were once I visited and remember them properly. Maybe that I could bury Peeta’s father for him while he was still trapped in the Capitol. But I couldn’t tell who anyone was. Bleached skulls, flesh either burned or picked off by animals, littered my way out of the square. Everyone I knew was either onboard Freedom or here, and I couldn’t tell who anyone was here. Madge was here, trapped in the bombing with her family, and I had no way of telling which of these broken, scattered skeletons was hers.
“Katniss?”
Oh no, I woke up Prim. “Go back to sleep,” I tell her, forcing the words out of my suddenly dry throat.
She shakes her head. “It’s time to get up.”
I look at the clock on the wall to check the time. She’s right. 0700, time to wake up. I force myself to stop thinking about Twelve, about the Capitol, about anything except breakfast. Getting out of bed, I shrug on my uniform. Black, like all the refugees from Twelve wear. The Federation officers aboard wear colours and insignias to denote their rank, but we haven’t earned anything like that yet. Not that I plan to. Gale might want to, especially after his success in Beetee’s lab creating weapons and traps , but I haven’t forgotten how they sat and watched the Games happen and did nothing. Just like the Capitol.
“Are you going to visit Peeta today?”
Because it’s Prim asking the question, I nod jerkily and don’t say anything as we head to the dining hall for breakfast.
The food replicators onboard Freedom are able to make just about anything, or so I’ve heard from eavesdropping on their crew during shift change. Unfortunately, those of us from Twelve are only allowed a limited selection, which mostly amounts to soup and bread for three meals a day, with varying vegetables. It’s so they can conserve resources, one of the Medical crew told me when I was in sickbay recovering from the arena, because they don’t know how many more months of food they have with all the extra mouths aboard. Of course, if they were to win this war, there’s plenty of food in this star system, and even more people who would be willing to share. One starship, even overflowing with food, is less than the Capitol demands for its citizens. But, I’m not in charge here, so I take my portion and go sit alone to eat.
After breakfast, I go down to the sickbay. Peeta is here, still asleep, and the doctors don’t know when he’ll wake up. Or what state he’ll wake up in. Usually, he wakes up violent but lately there’s been some improvement. Meaning he doesn’t attempt to attack me anymore.
“Miss Everdeen,” one of the doctors says as I walk into the room, “the captain has requested your presence today.”
That’s unusual. I try not to let my feelings show on my face. Coin is dangerous, and I don’t want to trust her any more than I have to. “What does she want?”
The woman in the blue shirt shrugs. “She only asked that you head to the bridge.”
The bridge has the usual collection of people I expect to see: the captain, her commanding officer Paylor, and Plutarch. They’re all watching the display screen when I enter and it’s clear to see why. There’s a map there of President Snow’s mansion. I’ve only ever been there once, on mine and Peeta’s Victory Tour, but I see it in my sleep sometimes. A dot blinks in almost the exact centre of the building.
“Private Everdeen.” Coin’s acknowledgement of me is stern, like everything else about her. “Do you know this building?”
“Yes. It’s President Snow’s mansion.”
She stares at me for a long moment. “He has requested to speak with you, privately. Do you know why?”
“No!” I stare back at her. Who does she think I am? Someone that would willingly collaborate with Snow of all people? “I don’t know what he wants,” I insist.
“Federation policy is not to interfere in intrasystem warfare,” Coin says. “However, we have already gone against that by allowing you to board our starship and aiding your rebels.” She pauses briefly to look back at the screen. “You may go, but please don’t expect assistance on your mission.”
“Captain,” Paylor cuts in before I speak, “may I suggest a small crew accompany her? Miss Everdeen is a known target and we shouldn’t be responsible for any more deaths.”
Any more deaths? I wonder if she’s talking about the hundreds of children they’ve let die, or the bombings they didn’t prevent. If the Federation is so powerful, why did they never reach out to us?
“All right,” Coin allows. “But I must warn you again, our directives don’t allow for Federation violence against a non-Federation-”
“Damn your directives!” Plutarch seems to shock everyone, including himself, with his outburst, but he continues quickly. “I mean, the rebellion could have started sooner, could have saved so many more lives, if we had only known...”
Coin sighs. “After this is resolved, I assure you it will never happen again, Mr. Heavensbee. For now, though, we must get Miss Everdeen down to the Capitol where she can talk to your President Snow and find out what is going on.”