The light from the moon is partially concealed by the clouds as the lone fishing boat motors through the waves. Antipatros Thomas looks left and right as he pilots the boat through the darkness of the evening. He shudders as he grips the wheel in his hands. His heart rate is through the roof, and he is clammy with sweat. Although the young man failed to find anything when he scanned the boat for any bugs, that doesn't mean they aren't there. He gulps as he spots the rendezvous point on the GPS screen.

Yet there is nothing out here.

He cuts the engine and drifts to a stop. He walks to the railing and peers out, his eyes wide as he scans the dark horizon.

Then he hears it.

It's soft, but it's there.

The sound of water running off something. He looks back towards the bow of the boat and stares in shock as he sees a glimmering black shape rising from the waters. For a moment, he fears it's one of Panem's Kraken-class submarines. He grips the gun in his shorts pocket and pulls it out, aiming it at the submarine as it finishes coming to the surface.

He is tense, and is willing to fight to the end this time. No more of his fear getting the better of him.

The conning tower hatch opens and a man sticks his upper torso out, shining a light in the direction of the boat.

(The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns...)

Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town.)

Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series.)

Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel.)

Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers.)

Sekai ga kawaru to (The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well.)

Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky.)

Kieru hikarinonakade (With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane.)

Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows.)

Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen.)

Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away.)

Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them.)

Chapter 6: The Last Journey Home

Location: Pacific Ocean - International Waters

Time: 0100 hours

Date: Saturday, 13 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)

Antipatros grits his teeth as he aims the gun. His eyes are hard like shards of ruby as he tightens his finger on the trigger.

Then the man calls out.

"Are you the bloke we were told to grab?"

His eyes widen as he hears that unmistakable accent. He slowly lowers the gun, but he is feeling hopeful.

"What is the date of the American Revolution?" he calls. Seeing as how he is a Capitolite, he has greater knowledge of the world Before the Fall. Yet he does not use the dating system so common in Panem.

"1776 BF." The man allows the young spy to see his face and Antipatros laughs in relief. The man before him has a shocking blue hair color, but his facial features are clearly Oriental. And on the shoulder of his uniform is the flag of the Confederation. "About time. We were wondering if you'd been nabbed, mate."

"Hardly. I almost was," the Capitolite says as he lowers the gun. "I'm Antipatros Thomas."

"I'm Captain Yang Man of the USS Arista," the Australian replies. He lifts up his cap. "Although I'm surprised someone such as yourself would be willing to defect."

Antipatros sighs. "It's that I'm so tired of this mentality that the Government has regarding the rest of the world. Specifically those Ultranationalists."

The submarine captain's lips curl into a smile. "That makes two of us," he remarks as he gestures. "C'mon. We've gotta bug out before those bastard blokes spot us."

The Capitolite looks at the submarine with some trepidation. He gulps before he holsters his gun and turns to make his way down belowdeck to gear up for the swim. But Man clears his throat. Antipatros looks back.

"Don't even bother, mate. We got this covered." The captain merely gestures again. "Best to just leave it all there."

The spy gulps again and nods, taking the advice and slips into the icy cold waters of the ocean. He gasps as the cold bites into his flesh and he starts to shiver uncontrollably. But as he feels the data drive in his chest pocket he grits his teeth, and drawing on reserves he never knew he had, starts to swim towards the sleek craft, forcing his shivering body to obey his commands. He starts to fall into a rhythm of sorts, thinking over and over in his mind free will not drone free will not drone free will not drone like a chant.

He starts to stroke all the way to the submarine. He doesn't even know he's reached it until he feels two pairs of hands grabbing his arms and hauling him out of the water onto the slick black hull.

The young man is shivering as he's ushered up onto the conning tower and then into the depths of the boat. A few people give him a blanket and he looks up, surprised. Someone, apparently a woman with pink hair and green eyes, pats him before moving deeper into the submarine. He is led to the bridge where he is told to sit by the captain.

The captain approaches and looks at the Capitolite. "So... you have it?" he asks, getting right to the point.

Antipatros nods as he pulls out the data drive. "I do."

Man holds out his hand to take it, and although he hesitates, the spy hands it over without a fuss. The captain examines it, checking it over with a fine-toothed comb, so to speak. He seems to not find any sign of tampering or Capitol technology embedded in it, so he hands it off to his XO and the woman walks off.

"Sorry. But we can't afford to take any chances with Panem," he says, folding his arms. "Once we get back to Australia, we'll examine it more thoroughly."

Antipatros shifts nervously in his seat. His eyes dart down to his hands as he wrings them. He knows not to ask questions regarding his fate, as all spies are treated as possible double agents unless proven otherwise. Truthfully, Antipatros was such an agent. But he genuinely wanted to be on the side of the Australians, as he is sick of seeing children dying all for the sick amusement of the Capitol. He is stunned, and rather horrified, by the kinds of things he has heard the Career families praising their children for in the Career Academies. And it makes his stomach churn.

Man's eyes narrow as he watches the Capitolite man. A frown mars his features. "Something's bothering you," he notes.

The Capitolite nods, feeling his stomach twisting in knots as he looks down at his clenched hands. "It's... I will be honest. I was asked to do this as a double agent... to betray you and reveal key things about you to my handlers..."

A few crew members grasp their guns and Man's eyes harden as they pull their pistols and aim them. "So? Why are you telling us this?" he asks, unfolding his arms and his hand inching for a button on the console.

"I... I no longer wish to do what I was recruited for," Antipatros mutters softly. "I... I'm just so sick of it all!" He grits his teeth. "I mean... Have you heard what the Career families are praising their children for?!" he blurts out. "I'm sick of all of it! Killing children is not a sport! It's a barbarity that needs to be stopped and corrected!" He clenches his fists and slams them on his lap. "I just want it all to end! I... How can so many generations even take pride in sick, glorified murder?!"

Man's eyes widen a bit as he halts his hand just inches from the button. "I thought Capitol types were supposed to enjoy this shit," he muses.

"Not me..." Antipatros says in a soft tone. "I... I hate it... I know I should like it, but... after seeing what our history has said... I... I just also want the rest of Panem to be opened to the truth about the outside world..." he adds. "I... You are right on one thing: Panem is not free. Under Snow, things were much worse..."

"Kane has changed things, we know that much," Man says as he keeps his hand where it is. "But we need up-to-date information, not the out of date stuff the whistleblower sent back. And that data drive... does it have it?"

Antipatros is silent as he nods. "Yes... Everything and then some."

That gets Man's attention. "And then some?" he asks, pulling his hand back from the console. "How can we be sure that it's not a trick?"

"You can't," the Capitolite confesses. "Not until you get back to your shores..." He looks down at his metallic-toned hands. "Or rather... our shores..."

"Why do you wish to join us?" a crewmember asks harshly. "Did you not just say you were supposed to be a double agent for Panem?"

"That was supposed to be my original mission," he admits. "But I don't want to be. I want to be on your side... fight for a world that is better than this...shade, did you call it?... of a world we live in. I...I want to see openness, willingness to trade - not steal like some thugs or bandits - and tolerance for others, along with a reduction in coal and oil usage." He clenches his fists. "And I want people to be normal, not this... mockery that is Panem..."

Man is intrigued. He folds his arms and purses his lips. "When you say normal, mate, what do you mean?" he hums.

"I mean... that we of the Capitol no longer have this ridiculous accent," Antipatros says, gesturing to his face and mouth. "And that District Two has a sense of humanness to them; in other words, not focusing on being some damn murdering sociopaths who could care less for the weak." He winces. "My brother... he was supposed to be a Career, and he took great pride in his sadistic fantasies of killing children with his bare hands..." He outlines some of the more gruesome fantasies and the crewmen and women present all grimace and one even runs off to the bathroom to puke. Man however, only grows more angry with each one he hears until finally he has had enough.

He slams a fist on the console. "All right! I bloody get it!" he snarls. "So that's it... You want their killer instinct to be subdued back to normal levels, is that it?"

Antipatros nods, feeling sick to his stomach. He finally looks up. "That's what I mean by normal, sir."

"Hmm..." Man purses his lips as he frowns. He folds his arms. "I see."

Antipatros is pleading as he suddenly lunges out of his seat, grabbing onto Man's uniform shirt, his eyes wide. "Please... don't let me go back there... Take me on! I'm begging you!" he cries.

Tears prick at his eyes and he looks down at the metal floor beneath his feet, his shoulders shaking. "I...I'd give anything... Anything to become one of you... One of the good guys... One of those who at least respect the rights of children! I..." He finally lets go and starts sobbing as he breaks down. His very belief in Panem has been broken. All he knows has been revealed to be lies. Everything he's heard has become nothing but smoke and mirrors. While Panem has started to change, it is the mentality of the Careers that needs to be changed. And all he can feel is enormous guilt, hatred, and sickness at what the Government has done to Panem's youth.

He is sick to his stomach again and he actually does throw up, right on the floor.

Man is right there, grasping his shoulders and murmuring to him as he helps the ex-Panemian to his feet. "It's okay, mate," he whispers. "We'll make sure this doesn't go on..."

"You've done your part," a second crewmember says as she steps close to him. Her hands land on his shoulders and she gazes into his eyes. "Leave the rest to us."

Antipatros nods, feeling overwhelming relief flooding his body and, for the first time in years, he can feel at ease. He finally grabs her, hugging her and just letting it out.

Man smiles a bit before he becomes serious and dials in on the comm to the Chief of the Navy.

The communique is put on fats track, and it works its way up to the higher command of the Navy. But due to the fact that the Chief is on family leave for a few days, it doesn't reach her until she gets back. By that time, Antipatros Thomas no longer exists. The man that has taken his place is named Andrews Thomas, after a man who once built a great legacy...

A legacy that now rests beneath the harsh waves of the North Atlantic Sea...

Location: Presidential Quarters, Meldney Complex - Australia

Time: 1400 hours

Date: Monday, 15 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)

Seph watches the monitor with a grim look on his face. His uniform is neatly pressed as usual, and his right arm's metal armor glimmers in the light from the comm on his desk. He waits for a moment before the confirmation code comes through.

Confirmation response: Omega-Nine-Four-Gamma-Banshee."

The screen comes up to reveal Vitus Nordstrum's face. He clearly looks relieved to see the Australian.

"Where is Antipatros" he asks. "Was he caught by Peacekeepers, is he alright?"

"No, no. Nothing of the sort my friend." He smiles. "He's on his way to the land down under. He's in good hands," he replies as Vitus blows out a sigh of relief.

"How are you Vernon? Did they execute the spies yet?" he smiles, but deep inside he is reeling from the implications this may have.

"No, not until after the interviews."Vitus says as his face darkens with anguish.

"They'll be remembered, they're on the right side of history, and I know this."

He murmurs in agreement. "Other than that, things are well Matthews; we had just wrapped up our private sessions for the tributes." He taps a couple keys here and there. "You should be getting a copy of said footage . . . now."

A notification sound chimes on his end of the line. "Data received. Thank you, my friend. Let the world see the atrocities this government promulgates."

He nods. The screen flickers briefly before it goes dark, revealing the Confederation's emblem. Seph tents his fingers as he leans in, his eye hard. "Computer: open file: Private Sessions."

The computer beeped before the device searched for the data, and within minutes it is shown on the screen. Seph's eye narrows as he presses a key on the keyboard and the video starts to play, along with the scores for each tribute... or rather, each pawn. He frowns as they start to do their sessions, and he takes note of all of their strengths and apparent weaknesses. His teeth grit as he watches Districts 1 and 2 go through their motions, and he pauses it, analyzing them. His eye becomes a mere slit as he notes the female tribute from 2, and he snarls.

He at once knows who he doesn't want to win.

"Proficient in all weapons, lacking in human skills. Just like a damn BCPU..." he hisses, remembering one of the old Gundam series, Gundam: SEED and the most deadly antagonists, the Biological CPUs. He wonders if the Ultranationalists considered District 2 like that... eager to supply them with soldiers to mold into superior specimens. But he brushes the thought aside as he finally continues examining the other tributes.

He takes note of the low score of some, but then his eye lands on the tributes from 12, and he smirks as he notes their scores, particularly Jai.

But what gets him is the information he gives. The revelation of the Head Gamemaker Mayfair nineteen years ago, back in 0120 AF, makes his suspicions begin to grow. The discovery that this boy mistakenly thought of himself as someone else... His theory has changed now. No longer is he sure the boy was touched by the Lord, but has a gift... or a curse, depending on how one looks at it.

The President frowns as he studies the boy, and his optic flickers a bit. Maybe this boy... has a connection to the past. A connection that could give him an edge in the arena, provided he knows how to tap and use it to great effect. But from what he's seeing, it doesn't look like young Jai has any idea of how to use it, let alone what it is. Even Seph himself has no idea, just a guess at best.

The door to the room slides open and he turns as Tina enters.

"Seph? You busy?" she asks.

The President shakes his head as he turns back to the tribute videos. "Nah. Just reviewing the data from our spies overseas," he says, resuming the video. There isn't much left, just one last tribute and then it goes dark. He rewinds it and starts from 2 this time, going out of order.

"I heard. But also that one of our spies got out with some data on the arena, right?" his wife asks.

Seph nods. "Yeah. Poor bloke is sick of it all. And I can't blame him."

Tina purses her lips as she analyzes the footage beside her husband. "And what of the other stuff? Did Captain Man say what it was?"

The Australian leader pauses the footage and looks at her. "Yeah. We got it. Up-to-date information on Panem. And let me tell you, people don't deserve to be monitored like in that Orwellian fiction, Nineteen-Eighty-Four. It's time we start to make a difference."

"And Sister Nina's concert may be that chance?" Tina asks. Seph turns to the footage and nods.

"Yeah. I just hope we can get them to see the truth... And that the whole world will see sense with this revelation one day..." He grips his hands together as he pauses, looking at the screen as he resumes it.

Tina's hand slides around his shoulders and he looks at her like she's nuts. She grips his right hand, kissing his grizzled left cheek right below his optic lens. "We will. There are still those who are willing to fight... And the world will see it one day..." she purrs.

A smile crosses his face as he returns the gesture, gripping her hand in his own, and kissing her passionately on the lips. They part before he speaks again. "Heh. You got that right, love," he whispers huskily.

The two lean in and kiss passionately once more, their tongues dancing before retreating and the two part, gazing at each other lovingly. Tina squeezes his hand gently before letting go. She glides out of the room, the door sliding shut behind her.

Now alone, Seph returns to the matter at hand. His optic lens locks onto Jai's face, and he ponders his next move.

Thankfully he doesn't have to wait long as the comm on his desk chimes. His gaze darts to it and he presses the button with his left hand. "Yeah? What is it?" he asks, minimizing the video window on his computer with his right hand.

"Sir, the Admiral and the spy are here," his security watch says.

A smirk crosses Seph's face. "All right. Send them in, Savanna," he tells her.

He turns to face the door, his hands tenting in front of his mouth as it slides open not even five minutes later. He can see the Chief of the Navy, Admiral Maya Fujioka, and beside her is the ex-Capitolite.

Seph's optic locks onto him and he notes that the boy is terrified, if his reaction is any indication. His metallic skin is streaked with sweat and his silvery hair appears greasy with it. The youth is no longer wearing the ridiculous fashions of the Capitol, and instead dons a simple black T-shirt with brown slacks and grey sneakers. The President takes note of the boy's rather lean physique and toned arms. He wonders briefly if he is one of the rare few that works out for natural looks, rather than altering their bodies in grotesque ways through surgery.

The two stand in front of his desk as they salute as one with the old American military salute.

Seph stands and returns it. "At ease, Admiral," he says.

The two drop their salutes as does Seph. He finally sits back down and glances at the boy. "He the one?"

The Admiral nods. "Yes, sir," she says. "We were able to get him back to our shores, but he did admit that he was supposed to be a double agent. Only he wished to betray his handlers and assist us for real."

Seph purses his lips, but says nothing. "I see. And?"

The woman reaches into her pocket and pulls out the data drive. "This is it. We had several of our Naval Intel spooks run it through a quantum supercomputer to check for any bugs or viruses. It turned up clean." She hands it over to the President.

He takes it and studies it for a moment before pocketing it. "That's good. Admiral, I'd like a full report on the boy's arrival after I debrief him. So stick around, okay?"

Admiral Fujioka nods and walks over to the couch, sitting down as Seph gestures for the youth to sit across from him. The trembling boy nods and takes his seat. Seph finally folds his hands in front of him as he sits back in his own chair. "So I heard you wish to betray your handlers. And for what reason?" he asks.

"I already told the Admiral!" the youth snaps, his Capitol accent already gritting on Seph's nerves. "I and my boss want to change it for the better! It's time to end this slaughter of children and brainwashing of Career Districts!"

Seph holds up a hand to calm the frightened youth. "Okay. Just calm down. We'll do just that." He moves his hand to the comm unit on his desk. "But first, want anything to drink?"

The boy's eyes widen as he hears this. "Y...You're not going to grill me for information?" he asks.

The President shakes his head. "I'm not as ruthless as I look. I only act that way when dealing with dictators like Pok." He sighs. "And off topic for a bit, but that accent of yours has got to go. Try and speak without it."

The kid's face flushes visibly and he nods.

"Now, what do you want to drink?" he asks again.

"I...Do you have any wine?" the boy inquires, trying his best to remove the Capitol accent by speaking in an Australian accent as best he can. Seph notes that some minor speech therapy can cure the rest. Seph nods his head in regards to the question though, returning to the matter at hand.

"We do," he says. "Just not the same as in your former home."

"Anything is better than there," the youth admits with a smile.

Seph nods as he presses the button. "Janice, can you send some wine up?" he asks. "And not that toxic stuff from 2021. The older or newer stuff."

"What year?" Janice Whitman asks. "I got a whole winery here, remember?"

"Any year. Just no 2021," Seph says. The woman at the other end of the comm unit affirms the request and he turns back to the boy. "So, what's your name, mate?" he asks.

The youth shifts nervously before he speaks. "Antipatros..." he mutters softly. "Or that was my former name..." He seems to straighten up, squaring his shoulders and speaking with renewed confidence. "But no longer. I go by Andrews Thomas, now."

That gets the Australian. His eye widens and his mouth falls open before he recollects himself. A smile crosses his lips. "A good choice," he says. "History for sure remembers that name. Except in that case it's reversed." His smile grows. "You got a bright future ahead of you, kid."

Andrews flushes a deep red as he runs a hand through his hair. "I... I suppose so," he mutters, feeling embarrassed.

Then Seph becomes serious as he finally tents his fingers. ""But back to the matter at hand. You brought some key data that we needed. Especially as now that we know how harsh the Government has been when it comes to freedoms."

Both Admiral Fujioka and Andrews perk up at the way he says the word. "W-What was that, sir? Why did you say 'Government' instead of 'government?'" she asks.

"Because it's not a true government if it doesn't truly represent the poorer peoples," Seph says. "And it reminds me all to well of Orwell's Nineteen-Eighty-Four. That book was a foreshadowing of what was to come in a sense. But not even he predicted what Panem would do to innocent children." His eye hardens as he gazes at both of them.

Andrews nods as he runs his hand through his silvery hair once more. "I know..." he whispers.

The door chimes at that moment and the President presses the comm button again. "It's open," he says. The door slides open and a uniformed server enters, but then, much to Andrews' shock, actually speaks to the man.

"I brought you the wine, sir," he says, handing the bottle over. "It's from 2001. Also, here's your usual." He hands Seph a can of coke as well.

Seph nods and takes them both. "That'll do. Better than that toxic 2021 stuff." He pauses, then hands the man a tip. "Here. Use it for your son. I think he may enjoy that new Gundam model kit he's been eyeing." A small smile flits across his lips. The man nods, bowing in return. Then he leaves.

"W...That man... He's not an Avox?" he asks, genuinely surprised.

The Australian President grimaces. "No way in bloody hell, mate! We don't cut out the tongues of traitors! Rather they get sent into the bloody Outback Prisons! We're not friggin' barbarians like those in the Capitol are! Trust me. We at least don't deprive them of their sense of taste!" he growls.

Admiral Fujioka's eyes widen as he mentions the prisons. Constructed in the aftermath of the Apocalypse to house traitors and those who bore ill intentions, the Outback Prisons are the harshest places for criminals or even traitors to go. Minor things are for the normal prison system; foreign spies and collaborators are locked in the Outback Prison, in addition to child molesters and pedophiles. While considered inhumane by some human rights groups - not that many remain in this new world - it is a necessity that Seph knows has to be done in order to keep the spies from leaking critical intel back to their masters. It also helps as the Outback is still considered by some as rather hostile, even after the climate changed.

She knows how harsh they can be because her father was a former prison guard there, and he was no stranger to carrying out brutal actions towards those imprisoned inside. At least it stopped short of slavery. Beatings, whippings, and mild torture are carried out there to keep the most sickened minds in their place.

The admiral feels bad for those inside the prisons; but she knows that if given the chance, Seph would imprison all the elites of Panem in that place so they could get a mild taste of what they put their victims through in the arena.

Andrews though doesn't know of them, but he can grasp that they are a nasty place to be. He shivers against his will.

Seph though gently reassures the boy, "Don't worry though. We're not inhumane. We may give them food and shelter, but we don't treat them too kindly."

He nods briefly. "I-If you say so..."

The President grasps the wine bottle and pops the cork. "So... thirsty?" he asks.

The ex-Panemian nods and Seph pours them a standard glass each; none of the fancy glasses for this man. He hands them the glasses and takes the

"Now, let's start..."

The debriefing lasts well into the evening, and during that time, Seph learns a lot about how Panem actually works. His eye is hard as he listens, and he interrupts to ask a few questions or inquire for some clarification on things. When it's over, the time is 1800 hours and everyone is hungry. So Seph puts in an order for something simple, but filling: pizza and salad.

To say Andrews is shocked is an understatement when Seph asks him what kind of topping he wants on his pizza. The boy is so used to indulging on fancy foods and wine that he finds it unusual that this man prefers to eat simple, but filling meals. But then again, Seph is not one to indulge like the fat asses in the Capitol. He knows from the footage that the Gamemakers - or rather Butchers, as he calls them - tend to feast and drink during the private sessions and it makes him sick to his stomach thinking of it. He grimaces and he clenches his hand around the coke can - his left, not his right.

Andrews finally agrees to a pizza, but with three toppings to compromise; he chooses anchovies, sausage, and mushrooms. The pizza doesn't take long to arrive to the office; there's about ten pizzerias in the Meldney Complex. The door opens and the delivery woman takes the tip with enthusiasm and runs off, leaving the three to eat in peace.

The ex-Capitolite is actually overjoyed to be trying something he considers exotic. The pizza is a far cry from the fare he is used to. It's everything that Panem's food is not: simple and filling. The boy eagerly dives in for his second slice, and Seph laughs as he greedily gulps it down, as if he had been starved for weeks.

Seph chugs down some of his coke before turning to the Admiral. "So, you say that Captain Man found the bloke in the middle of the Pacific Ocean on a fishing boat from Four?" he asks.

She nods. "Yes, sir. He brought the kid to me as I was out checking the cleanup ops. It's quite a mess out there."

Seph nods, his eye hard as his optic flares ever so slightly; he's trying to keep it in check for the youth with them so as to not scare him or give him the wrong impression. "I see..." he mutters, recalling the most recent projections on the cleanup. He briefly notes to contact Zero as soon as possible once this meeting is over.

The Admiral nods before continuing. She outlines his quest to reach District 4 before his near discovery at a local watering hole and then his escape to international waters. Seph is rather impressed this boy has managed to escape discovery for so long until this point. He smiles at him. "I gotta admit, Andrews. I'm rather impressed. For a Capitolite, you sure showed resourcefulness, something unheard of in Panem. All I can say is that you have a future besides being a Butcher. No offense."

Andrews is rather surprised at the compliment coming from a man like this. He is a far cry from what he has expected; he had half-expected a man who was brutal, harsh, and condescending towards all from the Capitol or Panem. Instead, this President Matthews is rather kind, considerate, and even - dare he say it? - friendly. His eye - of which there is only one - is rather keen, taking in his guest with a calculating gaze, and yet there is a hint of friendliness in that eye, and his optic glimmers with it as well. Despite his grizzled and scarred features, his muscular build, and rather intimidating height, he is a gentle giant at heart.

A small smile creeps out of hiding. "Y-You think so?" he asks, a tinge of hopefulness filling his voice.

Seph nods. "Yes. I do. Now... what talents do you have besides..." His voice trails off and he pauses.

Andrews draws into himself, his shoulders hunching and he gulps. "I... I have no real other talents..." he mutters, tears pricking at his eyes. "I...It's all I know how to do... help make arenas that kill innocent children..."

Seph feels a pang of sympathy for this boy, and he gets out of his seat, concern filling his features as he comes around his desk. He places his right hand on his shoulder, and Andrews jerks his head to look into Seoh's red optic lens and green eye.

"Andrews... listen to me. Everyone has something they're good at that does not involve such barbarity. I know it's all you know how to do, but... I want you to think on this one." He kneels down. "I mean, hell... I'm a damn good soldier, but that's not the only thing I'm good at."

"It's not?" the boy asks. Seph shakes his head.

"No. I'm rather keen on the intelligence aspect of politics, and I make a mean chili!" he jokes, winking at the kid.

Andrews looks at him like he's nuts. "You do?"

"Sure can," Seph says as he grins. "I know you've got something in there that can be translated into a profession you enjoy. So let's try again. What skills do you have that you enjoy?"

Here Andrews bites his lower lip, squeezing his hazel eyes shut as he tries to think. He recalls many days in his childhood where he loved to draw and to write. But he also has had a deep fascination with the programming of the protocol for security in the arenas. His love, he could say, came from that. He had applied to go to technical school, but was turned down for programming courses and so he went on to become a Gamemaker's Apprentice. He caught on quick to the basics, but when he expressed a desire to learn security programming, he was immediately sent down to the computer specialists where he was trained in security programming. Much to their surprise, he proved proficient enough to be assigned to that, and he rose quickly to become the head of security programming. He found it much more satisfying than anything, knowing he wrote those codes, so to speak.

As he returns to the present, his eyes widen as he realizes his real talent.

He turns to the President. "I... Actually... I find myself happiest when working with machines and coding..." he whispers.

Seph's eye widens and his optic flares a bit. "You like programming?" he asks.

The boy nods. "Yes. I do," he admits. "It's much more satisfying. Actually, I used to be head of the security programming division for the arenas..."

Now that is a twist that he's not expecting. Seph's eye widens a bit more and his mouth falls open. "You... You did the programming for the security?" he asks, not just in awe, but shock and... and realization. Realization that they have here a major advantage in more ways than one. Here they have the head of the security programming, which means... they can hack the arena's cyber defenses!

His keen mind is already working, trying to figure out what the consequences will be and how to implement this advantage into their future foreign policies. He knows the biggest one is war, so he rejects the idea of altering the Games as these are the last five before they are shut down. But he keeps it as a 'nuclear option' if the enemy wins the war he is sure will break out upon the end of the Games. His memory of the conversation with Nina comes forth briefly, and he remembers her vague words on the future. He finally forces it aside and returns to the matter at hand.

"Andrews, I've got a proposition for you." The boy looks at him, confused. "How would you like to help us on something?"

"What?" he asks.

Seph smirks. "How would you like to sabotage any future Games if they continue after the Fourth Quell?"

Location: Matthews House, Sydney - Australia

Time: 2000 hours

Tina is shocked as her husband informs her and their two friends about the situation with the boy. "You're serious about this?!" Martha blurts, slamming her hands down on the living room table. "I mean, he could turn on us at any time!"

Seph shakes his head. "No. Besides, if he was going to turn traitor, he'd be more than eager to try and hack our security. When I presented him with such a firewall, he actually backed off from it. Said it was too complex, even for him."

Hunter frowns. "I dunno, mate. I mean, sure he developed the security code for the arena, but is it even right to risk war like this?"

Seph looks at his best friend with a serious gaze. "I agree it's not worth the risk, but it may come in handy if the Games continue after the Fourth Quell. I'm keeping it open as a last resort 'nuclear option.' I don't like it either, but we'll have no choice if Nina's future prediction proves true."

Tina becomes serious as she picks up Sophia who is purring near her legs. She places the cat on her lap and rubs between her ears. "I'm not saying I doubt Nina, but isn't this a bit risky, placing it all on a single possible vision? I mean, she's had them before and they've never really passed entirely."

The President sighs. "True on that one, Tina. True on that one. But this time she seemed certain. And I'm willing to put a bet on that. But also, remember. The Ultranationalists will want the bloody Games to continue while the moderates and others will want them to end. No doubt it will lead to a split, and a civil war." His eye is hard as he looks at all three of them. His optic flares red briefly. "Cold, rational logic is pointing to that. Not just Nina's prediction."

Martha leans back in her seat and gazes out in the direction of the city. "So in short, you're preparing for an eventual loss," she muses.

"As much as I hate to admit it, yes," Seph admits. "But you gotta remember. We have to play it safe for now until we have enough mobile suits and Gundams to offset our naval discrepancies." He looks at the table briefly. "And if there is a civil war once more... this time..." His optic flares brightly. "We're getting involved on the side of the resistance."

The other three become grim-faced as he says this, and they each nod as one.

This time, there is no holding back. And they are ready for war if it comes down to it again.

Hunter finally remembers something as he looks at Seph. "Oh! I just remembered! We got the spy sats up and running. We're scanning for the arena now."

Seph's eye is hard as he hears the news, and his lips curl upward in a grim smile. "Good. The sooner we know of its location, the better. Then we can start tracking the tributes and... if need be, sabotage the mutts somehow..."

Location: Oil spill

Time: 0000 hours

Date: Tuesday, 16 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)

Zero watches as the nanobuilders continue their work of disassembling the spill, and the oil rigs that have been destroyed are nearing the quarter point for disassembly. The three rigs that had their pipes damaged are still working, and the pipes are three-quarters of the way repaired. He has to admit, it helps that the oil has metal and carbon inside it for use. And the destroyed rigs have also contributed in some way.

He finishes up compiling the report on the progress and stows it away in his briefcase before closing it.

He then turns to look out at the window at the shimmering fluid pulsing within the thick spill. It still never fails to amaze him as he feels a smile cross his lips against his will. Some small part of him finds seeing the nanobuilders in action relaxing, and he watches for a few minutes, letting his mind wander free from the stress of the job.

The beeping of his commset gets his attention and he turns back to it, pressing the side of the device. "Yeah? Zero here."

The familiar voice of Colonel Fritz Adler comes over the line, his thick German accent easily recognizable. "Sir, we have some rather upsetting news down here in PNG."

"What now?" he growls in frustration.

"It's the soil contamination. It involves the use of highly toxic pesticides that were once banned by the former United States!" the German immigrant blurts. "Pesticides that ve have proven to be lethal to humans and other animals in high concentrations. I'm afraid ve have no choice but to use the nanobuilders to remove these toxic substances."

Zero can't stand it. He grits his teeth and shouts in a wide variety of Vietnamese cuss words, slamming his fists against the wall of the helicopter. "Damn đồ đạc! They think their ngọc hành are superior, huh?!" he growls. "Well, think again, you weak-willed côn đồ!"

He looks back in the direction of Panem, and he snarls in anger. He finally presses a hand to his commset once more. "Colonel, you have my permission. Just get that soil detoxed so we can start restoring the fauna and flora at once!"

"Yes, sir!" Adler replies. Static fills the commset briefly before Zero turns his gaze back to the spill below him.

"Lord Almighty, help us now..." he whispers. He clenches his hand right over his heart as he mutters a small prayer under his breath.

He finally looks up once more and turns to the pilot. "Get us back to the ship," he orders. "I've got the reports to send."

The pilot nods. "Yes, sir!" he says, putting the helo into a tight turn. Zero grips his seatbelt in one hand and watches as the spill reorients itself below the aircraft. It falls behind them, beyond the booms which are doing their job of holding back the spill, and fades as the carrier comes into view. The USS Enterprise is lit up, and he feels an immense sense of relief as he sees the ship. The only Gerald R. Ford-class carrier to remain, he feels an immense sense of pride knowing that this ship still fights for what's right, and for what they believe in. That is why Australia has become so powerful, he knows. Because of those who are willing to fight for what they believe in.

He is brought back from his musings as the carrier's control tower radios in. He shifts in his seat as the craft begins landing procedures.

Once the report is sent, I'll be able to get some rest at least... he thinks to himself. And maybe catch up on times with my husband...

All right, peeps! Here's the next chapter! :D Hope you all are keeping up with Haus der Toten, as well. :) It looks like Seph has offered the newcomer the job of a lifetime. And what of the tributes? And the arena? How is the hunt for it going? Be sure to read and review both fics, peeps~! ;D

Ja ne! :)