I'm assigned to Boggs's squad. Star Squad. Having grown accustomed to all the boring uniformity of District 13, I'm pleasantly surprised that the squads at least have some individuality. To be honest, I had expected something like Delta Squad 41B or something like that. My gray military jumpsuit is stiff but not difficult to move in, and its weight settles around me comfortably. My squadmates don't bother telling me their names. Their faces are all cold and professional. I shiver. There's no hint of friendliness in their faces, not even in Boggs's.

"Private Everdeen." Boggs addresses me stiffly.

"Sir?"

"In training, you are expected to give one-hundred-and-twenty percent and nothing less," he barks, "If you do well, you are promoted. If you do not do well, you are punished! Punishments include loss of privileges, solitary confinement, banishment, and death. Do well. I expect a lot from you."

I nod, grateful for his faith in me. I wish I was as confident in myself as he is.

The training is hell. Pure and utter hell. I am treated like trash by my superiors, and even my squadmates. This means only Gale is my friend. The exercises we are forced to do push me to my limits. Each time, my muscles scream in agony as they tear and become sore. What's worse, Gale is assigned to a different squad. Deliberately, I suspect, by Coin in order to take away any attachments I might have.

It's weeks before I'm deemed fit to train in armed combat. They have destroyed my body and rebuilt it, stronger than ever. My muscles are now defined beyond what I could imagine. I still have my slight, swimmers build, but I feel heavier and yet lighter. I carry myself with more confidence and am in much more control of my body. I no longer walkmy slouch, but now move like I do in the woods: catlike, slinking around like a dangerous predator. My squad still treats me with indifference. I've grown not to care. I still haveGale. At least, when we're assigned the same lunch time. I hate the punctuality of District 13. Each morning we wake up at the same time. You're supposed to stick your right arm in this contraption in the wall. It tattoos the inside of your forearm with your schedule for the day. The nasty purple ink doesn't wash away until 22:00-Bathing.

Today I see that 7:00-Breakfast is directly followed by something I've never attended: 7:30-Arms Assessment. I smile. If this is what I think it is, I should have no problem. After finishing up my oats and eggs in the cafeteria, I follow my squad down a hallway I've never been permitted before. We pass the armory where my precious bow and arrows are kept. They took those because only military can keep weapons. The next door down, we stop.

I'm struck speechless at the sheer awesomeness of the room. Its immenseness makes me feel like an ant, and weapons cover every wall except for one. The farthest one. On that, there are life-sized dummies of various shapes and species. There's an entire section devoted to humans. I don't find myself surprised. Boggs turns to me, catching me off guard, and barks out in a clipped tone. "Private Everdeen, this is your first weapons training! Do you have any declared specialties?"

Stammering slightly, I reply after a moment's hesitation. "I'm good with a bow, sir."

He strides over to a nearby wall and hefts a huge contraption that barely resembles what my idea of a good piece of equipment is. He hands it to me and I nearly drop it, surprised at the weight. "This, private, is a compound bow. I want you to shoot that dummy." He points at the farthest one. "And I want you to shoot it from here." I feel intimidated. It's one thing to shoot an animal from thirty yards. It's quite another to shoot at a human from across a room over five times that length. I squint at my target. This particular dummy is the smallest of all of the collected dolls and I realize what he wants me to do. He wants me to shoot a child.

I take a breath in, trying to convince myself that he's just trying to test my accuracy, not that he's training me to kill innocent children. He's a good man and I know he wouldn't do that. But he's also a man who follows orders and I trust Coin about as far as I can throw her. Then, I reach out my hand expectantly. Boggs smirks as if he knows what I have been thinking and tosses me a quiver bristling with arrows. I nock one and am surprised at the ease of the draw. This bow's pull is miniscule compared to my longbow in the armory. This feels like a hunting shortbow, good for short distance fire and remarkably accurate. However, I know that by the length of the bow, it's a longbow and will shoot like one. That is to say, fast, strong and deadly.

I release the string but am surprised by the difference. My shot goes wide and I flush. This is not what I want. Focusing more intently, I take aim again. This time, my arrow flies true and I am already loving my new bow. Its craftsmanship is obviously manufactured but it is still a work of art. Its pull is greatly reduced and its accuracy and power are augmented. This is a bow that Apollo and Diana would have lusted after. I follow the arrow with several others in quick succession. Each flies into the dummy's eye, my favorite target. Each consecutive arrow splits the previous. When I am done, it almost seems like there is a black flower growing out of its eye.

I turn triumphantly and toss my now empty quiver at Boggs. He says nothing, just nods mutely at my squadmates. I face them defensively. They also say nothing, just stare incredulously at my target 200 yards away. I smile hesitantly at them and they finally tear their eyes away from the dummy. In their faces, I can see their newfound respect. I can't believe that the respect of people that I don't know could feel so satisfying.

I soon find that I'm mediocre in most other aspects of weaponry. Knives, I'm decent at seeing as I've had to use them alongside my bow. Guns, though, are an entirely different story. The moment Boggs hands me a rifle, I nearly blow his head off. He takes it away rather hastily. With good reason, I'm sure. He then turns on the safety and hands it to me again, stepping back and nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get away. I find that vaguely insulting. I'm not that bad… am I? I turn of the safety and shift into the firing stance that I've been taught. With newfound determination, I aim to the best of my abilities and squeeze the trigger. The sudden kick and loud bang startle me and I yank the gun upwards with a girlish shriek, missing my target completely. I hear muffled laughter and realize that this must happen nearly every time. Good. I haven't lost their respect. With a loud crash, the overhead light that I hit shatters on the ground, breaking into a million shards of glass and metal.

Only after I've fired again and again, achieving the same results and leaving us now in the dark does my squad finally realize that I'll never amount to anything with a gun. I'm no marksman, only a very skilled archer. I am surprised once again when this does not diminish the newfound respect that these men and women have for me. I'm different but no worse. I'm no longer their underling, but a peer. I'm one of them. This does not reach me in words, but in subtle ways. A friendly wink or nudge, a single nod, a pat on the back. Once, a full blown smile from one of the friendlier girls. I don't know her name, but I know that she has a twin and her gold-speckled brown eyes sparkle with life. She then follows up her smile by handing me her bread roll from lunch as we pass through the door. Her kindness reaches me in more ways than words ever could. I find myself hungry from the extreme training today and take a bite out of the smashed roll.

Normally, it's at least a year before a soldier is promoted. I never expected this, much less to become a leader, but here it is. Tonight. In a few moments, I am to walk up these steps and receive my patch. I never thought I could be promoted since I'm from the Districts and yet here I am. Promoted eight months early and to squad leader at that. I don't know why Coin would do this for me, but I have an idea and I don't think it will end well. They call my name and I ascend the steps, my heart thudding painfully in my chest, threatening to burst if I so much as smile. I stand before the President. She is so close that I can see every wrinkle and worry line that mars her once-beautiful face. I feel a rush of pity when I realize how much the Capitol has destroyed her. The sound of my name snaps me out of my thoughts and I realize that I have ignored most of her words. "Private Everdeen, do you accept your responsibility as a leader of a squad?"

My voice rings tremulously through the silent room. "Yes."

Coin pins my emblem, three golden chevron stripes outlined with dull bronze,, and looks into my face with pride. I smile cautiously back at her. She then hands my a document that states my position and tells me, "Your new squad will be called Mockingjay Squad. Its designation is Squad 075."

With a rush of realization, I know what's going on. She wants me to lead the rebellion.

I lay in my bed, contemplating my future. What exactly does Coin want me to do? Why does she want me to do it? I know that she's planning something for the third quarter quell which will happen in a little over seven months. My squad designation is just as symbolic as it is utilitarian. My squad name is also symbolic. I'm the Mockingjay. Everybody in Panem knows me. Some hate me, but most love me.

Flashback

It's my third covert mission. I've trained for two months and have been deemed trustworthy in the field. My peers look up to me and would trust me with their lives. Even Boggs has been known to smile proudly at me. Normally, my missions are basic reconnaissance, hunting, and border patrol. This one is different. We are to liberate Finnick Odair from District 4. Apparently, he has leaked a secret from an important lover and will soon be taken. Maybe he will become an Avox. Maybe he will be executed. Maybe, I shudder at the thought, he will be imprisoned and used as a sex toy. I know how the Capitol treats him. They shower him with adoration and yet allow his female–or male–fans to rent and use him for a night. At least that way he has his freedom. I do not fully understand why Coin wants to retrieve him, but I imagine that he must be very useful to the rebellion. Our stealthcraft hovers silently over Odair's spacious home in the Victor's Village. It's pitch black and the moon's light is nearly nonexistent. Every detail in the extraction procedure is meticulously planned out, including the time: 0:30 on the new moon. We don our night vision goggles and hook onto our lines. We rappel down directly to his bedroom window and release the lines. Concealed in the deepest shadows, our navy blue tactical uniforms make us invisible to the unsuspecting eye. Leeg 1 scans the room for bugs or surveillance and finds none. Then, Lieutenant Boggs slides open the window, slowly, cautiously, making certain to be unnoticed. We slip soundlessly into the room and the plan is going perfectly fine until we hear the raucous cries of a mockingbird. Boggs curses at his carelessness. Mockingjays are often used as security alarms because of their keen sense of hearing. Any unusual sound, no matter how silent, is detected. These particular mockingjays are trained to go off at these sounds. They are the perfect alarm to the amateur infiltrator. In fact, they are the perfect alarm to anyone who doesn't have a CO2 detector. Mockingjays are not technology, and therefore are not detected by a bugsweeper. Even with a CO2 detector, an intruder can never be sure if there's a mockingjay because a smart warden will hide the bird where there appears to be only one CO2 source. In other words, concealed near the target. Leeg 2 rouses Odair quickly, shaking his shoulder roughly. As expected, he leaps to his feet, grabbing for the trident at the foot of his bed. We all put our hands in the air, showing our intent to help. As he slowly lowers his trident, Boggs whispers harshly, "Finnick Odair, the Capitol is coming to kill you. Come with us."

Odair looks suspiciously at him and growls, "And who exactly is 'us'?"

I step forward urgently. "We're District 13. The end of the Capitol." His eyes light on me and widen in recognition.

"Katniss Everdeen. The lost love of The Boy on Fire."

My face scrunches up in confusion, and by the expressions on the faces of my squadmates, they are equally mystified. "What?" I ask.

He smirks, looking confident once more, looking like his old, handsome self. "You didn't know? Peeta Mellark, The Boy on Fire, loved you. He hoped to see you when he returned from the Games, to comfort you and to apologize for your loss. He never knew that you had disappeared the day he was taken. Peeta's heartbreak was on the news for weeks."

My heart sinks as I see the truth in his eyes. I always knew Peeta was a kind person. But I thought he treated me like he did only because of that. Not that he loved me. I don't feel the same about Peeta. He's a good boy but I prefer the company of Gale. And I don't want to love any more people. The more people you love, the more the Capitol can take. I will never marry. I cough to cover my discomfort and resume my icy façade. "It doesn't matter now. All the that matters is that we get you to safety."

I can see by his expression that he believes me about as much as he believes that Snow hasn't killed all of his political rivals. "Yeah? And why would you go rescuing me? I mean, if you're telling the truth and District 13 really exists, why try to help now?" His face is hard and skeptical.

"I know how you're feeling, Finnick Odair. I went through that too. The important thing right now is getting you out. When you're safe, we'll tell you." Boggs's deep rumble has a hint of urgency in it.

Finally, Odair relents. "Alright, I'll come with you." His eyes widen as he hears a muted ticking coming from the door. "DOWN!" he bellows, tackling me to the ground before I can react. Moments later, the door explodes inwards with a column of fire and a loud explosion. A squad of Peacekeepers all in white, tactical gear storm the room with their guns held at the ready.

One of the Peacekeepers, obviously the leader, barks, "By order of the Capitol, Finnick Odair, you and your accomplices are to surrender. Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air. Resist and you will be killed."

Finnick sneers at them and says, "When I've caught a hint of true freedom? I don't think so!"

A small, round object rolls across the room and rests at the feet of the Peacekeepers. They only have a moment to look at their doom and blink before it explodes, ending their lives. We make for the window, knowing we have few precious moments to get away before the Capitol is alerted and the metaphorical shit hits the fan.

"Freeze!" A terrified voice comes from the doorway. I see a lone Peacekeeper, his armor torn and charred. The visor on his helmet has been shorn away, revealing his youthful face. He's a teen, barely of age. His pimply face shows only fear. He holds his handgun in a shaking hand to the head of a gagged young woman with disheveled red hair. Her eyes are wide with terror and she seems to be silently begging for help. "Surrender and she lives!"

Odair nearly leaps out of his skin trying to reach her. "Annie!" he shouts. He runs at the man with no regard for his own safety, but Boggs and Leeg 1 catch his arms in an iron grip. "Let me go!" he screams hysterically, kicking and thrashing. "Annie! ANNIE!"

Boggs tries to calm him down. "Finnick Odair, you're our priority. I promise we'll get her to safety but you need to come with us first." His reasonable tone calms Odair down considerably.

I step forward. "Lieutenant, I'll stay and surrender to ensure the safety of the hostage." He nods in my direction once, then disappears into the shadows, my team following. Both he and I know I have no intention on following through on this. Finnick also begins to walk away reluctantly. He throws one desperate glance over his shoulder. His gaze goes not to Annie, but to me. 'Thank you,' he mouths silently.

I turn to the Peacekeeper. "I've complied, Peacekeeper, and if you want me alive, you'll release the girl." I slowly set down my gun and slide it over to the young man. He agrees and pushes Annie roughly away. I snort. Amateur. I know he's in no condition to shoot me or even react. He's never taken a life before. I can see it in his eyes. Abruptly, I spring into motion, rolling away from him and pulling my bow off of my back. By the time I've completed my roll, I'm on my feet with an arrow loaded and ready to fire. I release, knowing that there's nothing he can do and nothing I can do. The arrow enters his right eye at an angle and exits through the back of his head. At this range, there was no missing. The gun slips through the boy's nerveless fingers and lands on the floor with a loud clatter. It's several more seconds before he realizes that he's dead and it's several more seconds before he finally falls. I feel a pang of regret, but I suppress it. I've killed before. He was doing his job, and I was doing mine.

I walk to his body slowly and shoot him once more in the head for good measure. It's what I've been taught to do, after all. That's the first thing I learned when it came to killing. Men can do superhuman things when they know they're about to die. I bend slightly, retrieving the blood-soaked arrows and placing them gingerly back in my quiver. Then, I motion to Annie and we climb out the window. My squad's waiting for me in the stealthcraft.

I rappel back up, and the aircraft begins moving. "Took you long enough!" Leeg 2's eyes sparkle with humor. Her twin laughs.

I reply wryly, quoting Boggs, "You know the drill: Measure once, cut twice!" Everybody laughs, partly out of humor, partly out of relief. This mission was harder than expected.

Finnick runs at Annie with his arms outstretched, and they embrace. My heart swells with happiness for them but I retain my cold demeanor.

Nobody pursues us, and we arrive at base without any trouble.

It's several hours later when I'm roused from my well-earned sleep. As I come to, blinking and rubbing my eyes groggily, I see Boggs standing by my bed with a grave look on his stony face. "Private Everdeen, President Coin requests your audience." I know that can't be good.

I walk into the war room with no small amount of trepidation. Outwardly, I'm cool and collected, distant. Inwardly, I'm a wreck. What happened? What did I do wrong? Coin's already waiting at the head of the table with a neutral expression. Her face betrays no emotion. "You requested my audience, President?" I inquire, trying my best to keep my voice from trembling."

"Indeed I did." Coin's voice is quiet. She points a remote at the large vidscreen behind her and an image flickers to life. I see the news. It's showing our raid. But… how? How would that happen? "You see, the Capitol meant to make an example of Finnick Odair. They had a squad of Peacekeepers ready to take him into custody and execute him. Each Peacekeeper was equipped with contact lense cameras. I assure you, this is not your fault. In fact, you are to be commended." President Coin's tone is… approving? I shudder because I know that I have to look under the underneath if I am to understand her angle.

"Th-thank you, President Coin," I stammar. "But why then am I needed here?"

She motions toward the image on the vidscreen. I take a closer look. There I am with my bow drawn, about to end the life of that poor man. "Do you see what I mean?" Coin's voice has a tinge of excitement in it.

"Sorry, ma'am, I don't." I really don't see what's so important about it.

"Katniss, there's been riots in Districts 8 and 9!" Coin's statement shocks me but I hide my surprise with the ease of a life of deception. "Don't you see? You are now an icon! Those Peacekeepers meant to make an example of Finnick Odair. They were unaware that you were even getting him out until they blasted that door open! They thought that alarm was Odair trying to escape! That vidfeed was broadcasted live to all of Panem. All of Panem except for District 4 for security reasons."

I look at her strangely. "Ma'am, for all they know, I'm a crazy lady in a group of crazy people who got it in their heads to rescue our sworn love from certain death."

At this, she throws her head back and a loud, boisterous belly laugh escapes her lips. "Girl, you aren't even aware of what you've done for our cause!" She makes a motion toward the vidscreen and it zooms in on my chest. I see my patches. Above my left breast pocket, there lies the District 13 emblem, and I finally understand. She sees the look of recognition on my face and chortles. "Oh yes, our wonderful little Mockingjay finally understands!"

I shoot her an odd look. She must be getting used to those from this day alone. "Mockingjay, ma'am?"

She gestures once again at the vidscreen. "Look closer."

I do. At first, I see nothing. I see the single chevron stripe on my left black combat sleeve. I see my identification patch on my right breast pocket. 'Everdeen.' I finally understand when I look just above that and see my mockingjay pin. The only thing I have left of Prim. Technically, it's not following dress code regulations, but Boggs lets me get away with it because he understands me. That man's more bark than bite once you get to know him. "So I wear… a mockingjay pin. Congratulations?" I say this sarcastically but I know the significance of this pin and she knows I do too. Mockingjays are a muttation but not the kind you'd expect. They were an accident, an attest to the sheer will of Nature and the defeat of the Capitol. The Capitol made Jabberjays during the Rebellion to spy on the rebels. Their ability to recall and repeat weeks of information and conversation made them an invaluable tool in the war. However, the rebels caught on quickly and began feeding the Capitol false information. Frustrated at the uselessness of the birds, the Capitol released them into the wild knowing that they were all male and therefore could not reproduce. How wrong they were. The male jabberjays mated with female mockingbirds and created a new breed before they all died. Mockingjays. The mockingjays couldn't recreate conversations, but they could mimic songs and sounds. The Capitol was defeated by a small act of Nature.

"So I show that the Capitol isn't so invincible?" I ask.

Coin nods. "You are our mockingjay. You're the face of the rebellion. From now on, we're public and our raids will be as well. Everybody on your team will wear contact lense cameras and we'll figure a way to patch the feed into the Capitol cable network to use as propaganda."

I scoff disbelievingly. "Are you kidding me? The Capitol's firewalls are too strong! Nobody can get through them!"

Coin stares at me icily and I shudder, knowing I've overstepped my bounds. Then, her demeanor is once again pleasant and she titters uncharacteristically, "And who else to get through it than the one who made it in the first place?"

I groan. I've literally just come back from one retrieval and I have to go back on another?

End Flashback

I can't sleep. I just can't. Just because I was seen with a mockingjay pin does not mean I should have all this responsibility heaped on my shoulders! I roll out of bed and land lightly on my feet. I take a long look in the mirror. My reflection stares back. Her haggard face looks into mine and her shiny new badge gleams even in the dim light. I slip into my combat boots and begin to pull my hair into the familiar braid that I've been wearing since that fateful Reaping. I snatch my bow from its position leaning on my nightstand and march out the door to the place I know best besides the forest.

"Here so soon, Catnip?" I look up to see Gale already in the training room, leaning casually on the door.

"Couldn't sleep," I answer wryly. "Care to join me?"

He laughs and strides to his station. I follow, pausing only to unshoulder my bow. We pass the next hour in a comfortable silence, shooting at dummies from different places in the room, kind of like a game of HORSE. A really violent game of HORSE. By the time we're done, I'm dripping in sweat from the exertion but I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I look at the digital clock on the wall and see that it's 6:30. I only have a half hour to freshen up before breakfast. Gale and I leave the training room, each to our own quarters. I take my time in the shower, enjoying the warm water running down my back. When I finally make it to breakfast, practically the whole of District 13 is already there. Great. I can't find a place to sit. Gale is hidden from me, covered up by the crowd. So when I see Coin beckoning me, I walk to her table.

"Hello, Sergeant Everdeen," she greets me jovially, "how's your first day being an officer?"

"Pretty good, surprisingly," I reply.

She rubs her hands together excitedly. "Have you chosen your squad?"

I gape at her in consternation. "I was under the impression that I was to be assigned a squad, President."

"Oh no," she laughs, slapping her knee, "I think you'll make more of an impression on the people of Panem if your team is made up of people you like and trust. There is no teamwork without trust and I know that trust comes to you as easily as freedom will for Panem."

I give her a polite smile. "Thank you!" Although her blunt words irk me, I know they are true.

"So what are you waiting for? Who do you want?"

"If it's alright with you, I think I'll take Gale and Finnick."

She cocks her head. "Anyone else?"

I think for a moment and come to a decision. "Leeg 1 and Leeg 2."

She gives me a confused look. "I'm not aware of those two. Who are they?"

Sparks! I always forget their names. I cast my mind back, trying to recall their names. Storm? Ornery? Then it clicks. "The Ormiston twins. We call them that just to differentiate. Do you know them?"

Her eyes light with recognition. "Oh yes! They have made significant contributions to our missions! I'll gladly add them to your squad."

I give her a thin smile. "Thank you, President. Will that be all?"

"Yes, yes." She gives me a dismissive wave and turns to talk to one of the higher-ups, a rail-thin man with balding hair and a fox-like face.

"I'm sure you all know why I was placed over you," I address my squad, "but I just want to say that I'm no leader. I'm just a poor soldier unfortunate enough to have been noticed by the higher-ups." The assembled soldiers laugh and the tension in the room dissipates. "What I mean is that if I'm doing anything you find unsatisfactory, I'm more than willing to listen. I don't want you to feel like I'm your superior because I'm not. President Coin made us a special squad so that's what we're going to be. Anybody can throw out orders; I trust you that much. The only thing I am is a figurehead and a link to HQ. And that's only because it's apparently too risky to give everybody the wavelength to HQ."

Leeg 1 snorts mirthfully. "You must really be regretting having rescued 'ol Nuts and Bolts!"

I grin wryly. "They're great and all but I really wish Beetee'd stop hacking the Capitol's news network and putting all those propos about me and the Rebellion!"

"You could have 'failed' your mission though!" Finnick chortles. "I mean, you rescued them hours after you rescued me! Exhaustion's a legit excuse in my book!"

"Nah, I love 'em too much for that! Besides, they would've gotten rescued sooner or later." I'm beginning to loosen up from the light banter.

"So what's your plan… Sergeant?" Gale grins at me from behind Finnick.

I resist a giggle and say, "Since there's a four-week training period before a new squad can go into the field, we'll be training every day except for Sundays. I want to push you to your limits and make us the best, most well-oiled team in all of Panem. I want to make us a force to be reckoned with. A force for good."

"That's great and all. It's what every squad leader says..." a voice pipes up from the crowd and I see Leeg 2 looking shrewdly at me with her head cocked. "...but can you go through with that?"

I answer honestly. "I'm not sure I can on my own. But I trust you guys and I know that with us all working together, nothing's impossible."

A/N: I couldn't find the names of Leeg 1 and 2 so I used the actress' names.