Don't own Hunger Games.


"You want me to what?"

"I need you to get someone to give to a camera and air me on TV." I repeat.

"I know that. My question is why?" Peers asks.

"One: it gets annoying when everyone thinks I'm dead and ask me tons of questions because I'm not. Two: the country needs to know I'm still alive. Three: did you see that promo that thirteen aired yesterday? How do you think Panem feels after seeing that? I mean, no disrespect, but Katniss was never good at acting. Not without me there to help her."

"Yeah, I noticed." He scratches his head. "Hmm. I have a friend who's in our promo team. He can get you the equipment, but you'll have to convince them to let you do this. They're the ones who will approve of the message and let it pass through the air ways. Come on, follow me. Maybe you can convince them right now." He motions for me to follow, giving me a hand to stand before we make our way out of the room.

The halls are a heck of a lot more crowded today than normal. More soldiers than anything moving about, some in their armor, others in BDUs. Everyone was in a hurry to do what they needed to.

The reasoning for this was that the Capitol had launched an assault on district nine. After nearly four weeks of sitting and doing nothing, they decided to do something.

It didn't come as a surprise for us; we saw the build up from a mile away, mere days after twelve had been destroyed. From what I kept hearing from soldiers, they were going to pull something sooner or later, and we had massive amounts of troops in the districts bordering ten. We were pushed back a mile or so from what I recall, but we're holding ground and denying them more land. Not exactly what the Capitol wanted.

"Anything knew?" I ask.

"Nope. Same situation."

"Hopefully it stays that way."

We make our way out of the building into a massive field. Said field was acting as our base. Since district eleven was occupied by a massive amounts of peacekeepers, they had to build military bases around the district. The airfield here was the biggest in the district, and the third in the country only to one in district two and in the Capitol itself.

The noise was very prominent here. Hovercraft and aircraft alike were preparing for sorties or already on their way. Even those other flying machines, which I now know are called helicopters, where in the air, though most stayed near the district.

We enter the main building, a six story tower that could take direct hit from some sort of special bomb. What was it? Bunker something. Regardless, this was where most of the planning of the entire revolution was taking place. They don't allow civilians in the building, though I'm the exception. I mean, Pheonix anyone?

Everyone doesn't bother us a second glance. I've been in this building for the last week, so I'm not an uncommon sight.

We head straight down the hallway to the elevator, punching the button for the sixth floor, where the promo team headquarters was located.

We walked into the first room on the right, finding ourselves in a massive room that occupied half of the upper floor, with electronic equipment littering the room: cameras, film, canisters of some sort, green screens, multiple tvs, and this massive machine that they always used to edit and air the filmed promos.

It was filled with people, though no filming was taking place. They might of been getting ready to film something on the frontlines or are editing.

"Alto. I wasn't expecting you here."

The voice came from a woman who was currently watching over two people who were editing some footage from the recent fighting. Her hair was thick but short, black locks only reaching her shoulders. She was short, smaller than I was. The one thing that distinguished her was her very squeaky voice. It was so high pitched, you'd think it was a recording of an altered voice.

This was a friend of mine. One who last I saw was before my first Games, and whose expertise helped me blow up those supplies.

"You don't visit me anymore Thelin. I thought you loved me." I sound heartbroken.

"Oh, grow a pair would you?" She replies.

"That's mean. Don't talk to Peeta like that."

"Uhhh, my god." Said boy covers his eyes.

"Well, Peeta having a pair is besides the point. I came here to ask for your help."

"What is it?" She seems interested.

"I want to make a promo as soon as possible."

"Ah, I thought you'd never ask." She says with a sigh. "Command's been hammering me to get a promo out with you in it. Hopefully this will satisfy. Okay, take a seat in the other room. We'll have a prep team make you look nice and-"

"That's not exactly what I had in mind."

"What?" Thelin looks at me.

"All I need is a camera, someone who knows how to operate it, and some armor. I'm doing this real simple."

"What's the goal for the promo?"

"To let the country know I'm still alive. Let them know that there's still others fighting for them. I don't know how they feel exactly, but they may seem a little down after that promo from district thirteen." I reply.

"Preaching to the quire on that one." She rubs her chin. "Okay. You know what you're going to say?"

"I have a general idea. It's short, sweet, and simple. Let them know I'm alive. Let them know that the recent Capitol offensive was a bust. Tell them I'll be rejoining the fight soon, and maybe a little slogan in the end. It'll sound a lot nicer then thirteens."

I can't get over that.

"People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!"

Really?

After months, possibly years of working on a slogan, that was the best they could come up with? I always imagine people in those crazy clothes the Capitol citizens wear while saying it in a high or strange voice when I think about it.

"Okay. I'll help you. Peeta, can you get the armor? I want the real stuff. We'll also have the promo in your room; no green screen, nothing fancy. It'll give your words more impact. Bring you down to their level, someone they can relate to."

"That's the idea." Anyone could relate to me really, if you cut out the two Games I was in and being the Phoenix. Take those out, and I'm just your average seventeen year old boy.

"On it." Peeta walks out of the room quickly.

"So you're going to join the military?" Thelin asks.

"I have to." I give her a serious look. "I can't just sit here and wait for this war to end. This war I started. I can make all the promos I want, but all it does is make me a hypocrite if I preach about fighting back while I sit safely on a military base. I'm a symbol; I have to show an example of what one can do." I glare at the window to my right. "And frankly, I can't let the bastards in the Capitol get away with burning Twelve. One man, and they destroy a district to get him."

"I just want to make sure you're in it for the right reasons." Thelin says as she takes my shoulder and guides me to the elevator.

"It's personal as much as it's moral."

"A lot of people see it much the same way Hayes." Thelin said with a look of determination. "I'm one of them."


Well that went horrible.

"You can't be too hard on yourself Katniss." Flora tells me as I push my food around my plate.

"Why not? We were counting on that promo, and look how badly that went." I say dejectedly.

"Well...um..." She can't even think of anything else to say. That's how bad it went.

The promo was a disaster. At least the end anyway. When I had to say that stupid slogan. When you looked at me in the promo, I was so herky jerky, and it was the same with my voice. And I looked too nice. They had edited my body to make me look better, but the best way I could describe myself would be a doll. Almost nothing was wrong with me with the exception of a fake bloody bandage on my arm. I was a puppet or something.

Haymitch knew this would happen, flat out told them beforehand, when they forced him to tell me of the promo, but they would have none of it. Now they knew better; knew now to listen to the man that's helped me through my new life when I volunteered for my sister.

They aired it anyways, because there was nothing else we could do. I couldn't go to actual combat since we didn't even have the forces to fight, and I'm considered too valuable to put in danger. We couldn't redo it; it would either end the same or worse. We had to use what we could, and it was absolutely horrible.

"Why did I bother becoming the Mockingjay for thirteen when we can't do a single damn thing to change Panem? All we do is sit in this hole in the ground and wait."

"Didn't coin say we had to gather forces?" Flora asks.

"Yeah. Gather forces. How do we do that when Free Panem and the Capitol has millions to support them? How many people do we have? A few thousand? What's a thousand going to do against a few million?"

...

Flora gives a heavy sigh. "Ah, who am I kidding? This is hopeless."

We both stare at out food, occasionally sticking some in our mouth, silent, and rather depressed. We wanted to make a difference, but we couldn't. Thirteen couldn't.

Maybe we should have joined Free Panem.

"It this thing on?"

...

...

I...I know that voice...but...

That's...not...possible...

Flora and I look at each other, shock present on both our faces. Everyone in the cafeteria is also silent, all turned on the television. Our eyes move to the closest one to our left.

Brown hair.

Tan skin.

Red eyes.

It's him...

"Is it? Oh! Okay. Hah, sorry guys, kinda new to this. So let's start. My name is Alto Hayes. Most of you probably knew that." He says with a smile.

"Now I know what you're thinking; how in the hell am I still alive? The Capitol's been feeding you bull about my apparent death right? Yeah, I'd be confused too. As for how I survived, I'm not to sure myself." He shrugs. "Luck I guess. It's one of the few reasons I'm still alive and all. So, I'm alive. Was out for a month because I had to heal, but I'm planing on getting back out there within another month or so. Want to join our brave men and women who've stopped the Capitol cold in their recent attacks in distinct nine. Who are fighting for this nation's freedom. Can't exactly call myself the Phoenix if I'm not willing to fight. To all the soldiers out there, we're all thinking about you back here. Not much, but it's something to keep in mind. God knows I think of you guys."

"I really don't have much to talk about. I just wanted to let you all know that I'm alive and that the Capitol isn't doing so well. Something of a moral boost. I hope it works. Heh. Oh! Almost forgot. A little message for Katniss." He gets closer to the screen.

"Sorry honey, but that promo...yeah. But I still love you Ms. Hayes ." That gets a smile from me. An actual smile. The last time I smiled was a day before the quall.

He gives a sad smile right after. "I...miss you. Every second of every day." He looks to his left, almost like he knows Flora is here next to me. "And I miss you too Flora..."

He wipes his eyes, then takes a breath. "Well, um, that was a little more than I bargained for. Sorry guys but I've got to get going. Nice talking to you all. And I hope this doesn't sound too bad." He gives his signature sloppy two finger salute. "This is Alto Hayes signing off. And remember; only you can ignite the fires of revolution."

He gave one last wink, and he disappeared, the television returning to the previous Capitol propaganda that was airing. No one was paying attention to it though. They were too preoccupied with the new information they had seen.

Alto... He was...he is alive...

I ...

I can't breath...

My name is the last thing I hear before I feel myself fall backwards and I see darkness.


"Snow..."

"I know you can hear me Snow."

"Didn't think anyone could hack your airways did you? Or even send this little message to you personally huh? Hmph. I'm going to stop wasting my breath and say what needs to be said."

"You remember that promise I made you? That you and the Gamemakers will face the same hell you made for us tributes? I was wrong about one thing..."

"I'm going to be the one who does it."

"I hope you enjoy watching your power ripped away from you. I'll see you real soon. Count on it."

As the Phoenix's face disappeared from the screen, President Snow frowned slightly.

...

...

"Well played Alto."


"So, how was it?"

"Eh. The slogan was a little cheesy."

"Mhm."

It still sounds better then thirteens.