Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.
Note: Whoa, already we've reached the end of the first decade of the Hunger Games. Certainly been an interesting ride so far, I would say. Of course, there's no rest for the wicked and we have quite a lot of time left until we reach the 73rd Games in over sixty years in-story. Only fitting, I feel, that we end off the first decade of the Games with a bang. Thus, here's Olga!
"She was pro-Capitol, right?" Peeta asked, looking down at Olga's imprinted face upon the sidewalk. "Kind of like most Career Victors over the years?"
"That's what I've heard," Katniss replied, her eyes a little bit icy. "So say the books, she considered herself to be more Capitol than District. Apparently her father had a hand in the Hunger Games existing."
"You sure?" Peeta asked, curious. "I always, well, thought that President Orion put them in place. They were always credited as his idea."
"Yeah, true. But they say Olga's father helped him brainstorm ideas which led to those terrible Games," Katniss replies, sighing. She closed her eyes, weary. "He was the Head Peacekeeper in Two back when the first rebellion ended. You can see how that would have effected Olga."
"I can imagine it, sure," Peeta said, frowning with unease. "Hmmm... highest kill count yet."
"They say she was screaming and roaring when she left the arena. She was furious," Katniss said, shaking her head. "Can't imagine why."
Peeta didn't respond, too overcome with a surge of anxiety to form any words.
10th Annual Hunger Games
Name: Olga Machete
Gender: Female
District: 2
Age: 18
Kills: 11
While every Hunger Games was seen as a reason for the Capitol to celebrate, the citizens deeming it as the happiest time of the year in nine out of ten cases, there were naturally bigger milestones that caused even more street parties and uproarious celebrations. Before anybody aside from Orion and his most trusted ministers became aware of what the Quarter Quells were and every twenty fifth year therefore becoming a huge spectacle, the first double digit Games had the Capitol in a state of celebration not seen since the first rebellion was defeated.
It was also a time of pride for District Two, the place that had the overall best track record in the Games thus far. While they currently tied with District Seven for Victors, it was a fact that their tributes were known for lasting longer which set them at an overall first place.
Naturally, as the Hunger Games became a grisly part of Panem culture and the fact they were there forever was being dismally accepted, each District was responding to the death tournament in different ways.
Many chose fear and despair, assuming they had a choice at all that is.
District Two chose to fight blood with blood. They would always send the absolute strongest that they had, without any exception. With this being double digits now and there existing a chance that Seven could overtake them Mr Overwhill was losing plenty of sleep doing his damnedest to work the cadets at the academy to the bone and ensure a Victor could be made of one of them.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, a hand over his face. He sighed, annoyed as he poured out a glass of fine wine. "Nine years already gone and all Two has to show for it are my whelp and that quarry rat."
It was true enough that Baron and Runa were powerful, popular Victors – their not so secret new relationship only further making them icons to the Capitol – but they had no fighting spirit anymore. They had no intent at all to kill again or encourage future tributes. Not in the way that Mr Overwhill needed.
It was clear as day; they were not that patriots that could represent the academy. They couldn't grant Mr Overwhill the power and wealth his greed desired, merely show that the training for the Games was a workable plan.
The ageing man peered out of the window in his office. Down on a bench in the courtyard of the academy – one constructed upon what had been a graveyard for rebel sympathisers – were the Two victors, quietly enjoying each other's company in the evening sunshine. Mr Overwhill scoffed, turning away. He'd never agreed with his son's choice to be with a quarry rat, even if she was a Victor.
For some time he sat in his office, simply looking over the statistic sheets of the twelve cadets who were deemed worthy of being tributes for the tenth Games. It was a strong enough pool of candidates, but the annoying trend was all of them having either personal dreams full of greed or simply wanting a ticket to the easy life. He narrowed the pool down to two boys and two girls in mere moments, but he still wasn't happy.
He needed a patriot, one happy and willing to serve two, the Capitol and their President.
It was around two hours later that his secretary informed him that Captain Machete, the Head Peacekeeper of Two, was waiting to speak to him. The Captain was not the sort of man a person without suicidal tendencies would turn down a meeting with, so Mr Overwhill readied himself for whatever the fearsome man wanted.
The monster of a man entered and was tailed obediently by a muscular, short haired women. She saluted without needing to be prompted, a firm look in her eyes.
For a while Mr Overwhill and Captain Machete exchanged pleasantries and simple talk of the state of Two – they'd battled in the same platoon in the Dark Days, so they had no issues getting right into talking – but eventually Captain Machete got to the real point of his visit.
"I want my daughter in the Hunger Games this year," said the intimidating man. "She'll ensure a victory for us."
"She hasn't been instated into the academy," Mr Overwhill said, calmly.
"That means nothing," Captain Machete said, shrugging. "She's far and away the strongest woman of reaping age we have right now. I've trained her myself since she could walk, first for fighting rebels and now for the Games."
Mr Overwhill listened as Captain Machete listed the skills of his daughter. Swordplay, knife fighting, battle axes, hand to hand combat, parkour, acrobatics... the man had to admit, she seemed like a dream tribute. An easy win.
"Is she loyal to Panem? To our District? To the Capitol and President Orion?" Mr Overwhill asked, firm.
"She's just like me," Captain Machete said, confidently. "Olga, tell him."
Olga snapped a firm salute, her piercing gaze betraying no emotion whatsoever.
"Sir! I, Olga Mars Machete, hereby swear my life to service as a tribute. I'll live for Panem, die for Panem and do all that I can to serve Panem," Olga said, cold as ice. "I will kill one tribute per District, ours included by the end, for none are above the law of Panem and the Capitol. All must serve and bend the knee, living, working and dying as one for the good of the nation. Sir, I truly tell you I shall be the Victor or die proudly in my quest to accomplish this honour."
Olga held her salute, rigid as a statue, until Captain Machete told her to relax. As she went back to a respectful silence the Captain repeated his request, or demand more specifically, for his daughter to be a tribute.
Mr Overwhill smirked, knowing he had found the patriot he was looking for.
Five minutes later Captain Machete and Olga left the office, confirmation having been given that Olga was to be the female tribute. With a content smirk on his face Mr Overwhill returned to looking over the remaining candidates for the male tribute to enter the Games alongside Olga.
Wanting his precious patriot to win he ended up picking Mercury, the weaker of the remaining two candidates.
The tenth reaping seemed grander in comparison to all that had come prior. More cheering, more decorations, more District pride going on. Having a pair of Volunteers at the ready, nobody had any reason to fear anything and so were content to enjoy the fair weathered day.
Even the Peacekeepers, behind their face concealing helmets, were smiling as well. They knew that Two never caused trouble, so why not relax just a bit?
Sure enough the reaping was, once again, a mere formality as Mercury and Olga took to the stage. Mercury basked in the cheers and the attention, while Olga kept a rigid stance and saluted the crowd. She had no room for silliness nor distractions, not when she was ready to begin serving Panem just as a proper patriot should.
She only had one visitor in the hour when they were permitted, Captain Machete. He was there for all of fifteen seconds, asking a question and expecting a quick answer.
"Are you ready to give all that you have and all that you are for the nation?"
"Yes, sir."
The parade hadn't gone any differently the tenth time around other than louder cheers and jeers than the norm, but the training centre was where things began to play out under Olga's firm clutch. One cursory glance at her competition while listening to the Head Trainer explain the rules, what few there were, told her all that she needed to know.
There was almost no real competition.
Aside two reasonable fighters from District One and cocky Mercury it seemed to Olga that it was a rather weak batch this year. A limping boy from Three, two crying children from five, an outright short fused rebel from Six, a dwarf girl from Seven all the way up to a starving pair from Twelve. It was a disgrace in her eyes, the blatant lack of patriotism or spirit for the most important pageant of the year.
But, Olga did respect strength and thus informed her allies that the sailors from Four would be joining their alliance.
"Why?" Mercury had asked, midway through eating a chicken wing at lunch after the morning of training.
"They are strong. Let the weak fall first," Olga said, firm. "Show a little more spirit Mercury."
"I'm all for it," Prince from One said. "Peridot told us that Four tends to have decent tributes, so we may as well keep them around and benefit from them."
"And then cut their throats when they least expect it," Bauble from One added. "Perfect."
"Don't assume anything, that's foolish," Olga said, firm as always. "Anyway, it's the end of lunch. Join me in singing the national anthem."
Olga was annoyed when nobody joined her, but she cared little. If she was the only tribute willing to show some Panem pride then so be it. Win or lose, she knew that she was doing things the right way.
Even so, the sheer disrespect of some of the tributes was disheartening to say the least. Silence during anthem time was one thing – for all Olga knew, some of the Outliers may have been too detached from the Capitol to know how to speak properly – but seeing the boy from Six and the girl from Seven daring to make rude gestures and pull faces had Olga fuming.
They would have to be educated, and educated fast before they were sacrificed for the prosperity of the future.
"Blessed be I, my family and my deeds on this Capitol guided day," Olga said, the first words she spoke that day. Same as every day for as long as she could remember.
The day was not a blessed one. The record books would go on to show that this was the first time a fight had broken out in the training centre. It was one thing for a shouting match to begin, something the Gamemakers would privately admit to enjoying, but a fist fight was something else entirely.
It all started when, after making mincemeat of the dummies at the sword training station, Olga had firmly lectured the six boy and seven girl on their disrespectful behaviour. She'd pressed to them that, like it or not, they were in the most vital of pageants and would need to straighten out their attitudes. The Capitol were firm and fair, keeping them from a serious war. It was plain as day and Olga demanded an apology on behalf of their dear leaders.
"No," the six boy, Chev, said with a shrug.
"What he said," the seven girl, Fernie, added.
"...What?" Olga asked, stunned.
"I'm not apologising because I am not sorry," Chev said, rolling his eyes. "Why should I be a puppet like you and glorify people who make us die and have to steal from the Districts to have any hope of surviving?"
"Because the Capitol guide us. Love, protect and feed us," Olga said, firm. "My father saw things in the Dark Days you'd never want to see. The Capitol prevents a repeat of the mindless violence."
"This all seems mindless," Fernie said, gesturing around the room. "Kids killing kids. That's sadism."
"No. It's sacrifice for the future," Olga said, at this point rather passionate and pissed off that her long drilled in ideals were simply not being taken on board.
One moment Chev spat at Olga's feet, having heard enough out of her.
The next moment he lay on the ground with a black eye.
A moment afterwards Olga was led away for a 'time out' and a severe lecturing on conduct.
As angry as she was, seeing the six boy and seven girl shake hands made her feel a sense of satisfaction. At least they felt something for each other's Districts, even if they were two small parts of a greater system.
Having scored the first eleven ever recorded Olga had been the talk of the Capitol and everybody wanted to know about her story. The patriotic young women beamed with Panem pride on interview night, rising and singing the anthem as a showing of support for her country. The crowd loved it, and for once not so much attention was paid to District One's interviews.
"I'll own up, I got into a fight with a certain somebody who refused to show a little respect for the Capitol," Olga had told Mortimer, solemn. "I acted badly, but only for the sake of standing up for the powers that be whom I forever swear by."
"Well, we all appreciate it Olga," Mortimer said, delighted by the story. "Besides victory, what brings you here to the Games on this fine anniversary?"
Olga filled up her remaining two minutes with a speech that would be broadcast at both the academy in Two and on Capitol television for many, many years to come. A speech about the price of freedom and forgiveness, about how during the Dark Days it had been Capitol Peacekeepers who rescued her when her house set on fire, about how having loyal and strong tributes in Two meant nobody need face the arena if they didn't truly feel ready to serve Panem.
Olga rose and accepted the uproarious applause with a proud salute, a single prideful tear shed from the glory of the moment.
Back in Two it was a perfect evening for Mr Overwhill and Captain Machete, the former eager to see his patriot victor line his pockets with cash and the latter proud of his daughter's obedient, excellent service.
That year the tributes found themselves in what, at least for a few years, was the grossest arena that had ever been seen. It was a grotesque swamp full of gnarled trees, sloppy mud, murky water and a terribly foul odour. The Cornucopia lay on a flat dirt island in front of the semi circle of pedestals, a small sea of swamp water between it and the tributes.
By the time the countdown reached fifty Olga had already picked out her targets for the imminent bloodbath.
By the time it reached forty she stood at the ready, a proud look on her face as she prepared to serve her nation.
By the time it reached one Olga was ready to win the Hunger Games.
All of the tributes ran into the opening melee of that year, but only twenty one actually reached the Cornucopia at all. Due to the thick mud and entangling weeds the boys from Three, Ten and Twelve all ended up stuck on their fronts beneath the water, their screams quite literally drowned out and unheard by the rest.
Olga reached the centre island first, ahead of even her experienced swimmer allies Tug and Reef. As soon as she gripped hold of a large sword set into a sheath in the centre of the scattered supplies and shouted out a line from the anthem, she quickly got stuck in.
It became clear very quickly that Olga was sticking to her vow to kill one tribute from every District. The girls from Three, Ten and Twelve were the first ones cut down, vicious and fast before anybody else could lay a claim to them and from that point onwards Olga was like a blur around the battlefield at the Cornucopia, grabbing up supplies and chasing down anybody who was from a District she'd not yet landed a kill against. One, Two and Four were spared for now, but even the strong and loyal would have a price to pay soon enough. Loyalty delayed punishment, but did not spare them from it.
As was becoming the basic trend every year, the strong remained at the Cornucopia and the scared, weaker Outliers scattered off into the swamp. The five of the pack who still lived, Tug no longer among them, watched as the last of the Outliers ran off into the swamp.
Olga spotted the boy from five decapitated on the ground – handiwork of Mercury – and then saw the girl from five limping away into the swamp not far from them.
"She won't get far," Reef remarked, wiping blood off of her harpoon.
"Indeed not," Olga agreed. "District Five is not innocent. That one is mine."
One moment Olga grabbed the harpoon off of Reef and took careful aim.
The next moment the harpoon hurtled through the air until it hit the Five girl in the back and came out through her chest, killing her instantly.
Thirteen cannons boomed after the Five girl sank under the swamp water. Olga held a salute for the booming of the cannons and, as soon as the last one fired, marched into the swamp water.
"Where are you going?" Mercury asked. "We should gear up and take a break."
"Who would you be to keep the Capitol waiting?" Olga asked, frowning. "I'm just making things a bit easier for them."
The others of the Pack watched as, over the next fifteen minutes, Olga dragged several bodies out from the swamp water and laid them down on the shore. Following that she dragged over the bodies that had been slain around the golden horn and laid them all out in a line. District order with the boy preceding the girl.
The nation could only watch, whether in awe or raw despair, as Olga paced down the line of fallen tributes and read out their crimes for all to hear.
"In the Dark Days numerous factories were detonated by those in Three, leaving innocents slain and all the technology blessed upon both Capitol and District lost to time. This is where rebellion led them."
"In the Dark Days those in Four crashed ships into the vessels of innocents, sinking thousands and wasting untold magnitudes of resources. They drowned in violence and hatred, not peace or prosperity. This is where rebellion led them."
"In the Dark Days power plants in Five had their cores overloaded in suicide bombings that led to explosions, pollution, orphans and death. Power is used to charge up our lives, not to extinguish them. This is where rebellion led them."
"In the Dark Days many fabric factories in Eight were blown up and set ablaze. Resources were stolen, fashioned into ropes used to hang innocent soldiers who only wanted to prevent further bloodshed. The rebels only dressed themselves in blood. This is where rebellion led them."
"In the Dark Days grain fields in Nine were either set on fire or poisoned badly. Sometimes both. People were left starving on both sides, with nobody benefiting from such barbaric actions. Blood soaked into the soil. This is where rebellion led them."
"In the Dark Days animals in Ten were slaughtered needlessly, no humane methods even considered. Others were injected with all manner of nasty formulas and used as rampaging brutes to attack things rebels were too cowardly to do themselves. This is where rebellion led them."
"In the Dark Days those in Twelve collapsed the coal mines to try and starve the Capitol of its power, feeling like they could survive cold winters without guidance and protection. They were wrong, as they froze and starved through their own selfishness. This is where rebellion led them."
By the time the hovercraft came to collect the corpses the nation was split in their opinion on the patriot girl from Two. Only two feelings were felt from the population as she led her alliance out into the murky swamp in search of the remaining Outliers.
Pure admiration from the Capitol for this delightful young lady.
Extreme hatred from the Outlying Districts for this smug, nasty patriot.
Olga meant it when she said that she would kill one person from each District. It led to a scene that would almost always be on Top 100 Craziest Games Moments countdowns over the years.
Till, a small boy from Eleven, had been chased for over a mile by a slow and snarling crocodile. It had already devoured Sunflower and seemed like it would stop at nothing to make him the second meal of its day.
One moment Till was bracing himself for the most agonizing of bites.
The next moment Olga had leapt in out of nowhere, her alliance trailing, and was smashing the crocodile to death with the handle of her sword. The beast was helpless as its scaly head was brained into a red, ugly pulp.
"Get away from him!" Olga snarled. "Don't you dare do it!"
Till felt like, in that moment, miracles were real as the crocodile was dispatched. He was about to thank his savoir for her help and pledge loyalty to her alliance, but he was interrupted.
As in, interrupted by his head being sliced clean off by Olga's sword.
"No mutt is gonna steal my objective away from me," Olga muttered, looking at the dead mutt in disgust. "In the Dark Days many a cowardly attempt at terrorism came from Eleven. Crops were poisoned and shipped off to the Capitol. Food was hoarded by greedy rebels. Irrigation pumps were blown up with crude explosives. This is where rebellion led them."
No matter how well a Career pack might work together, sooner or later the time will come for the pack to break when the pressure simply gets to be too much. Such a thing happened on the fourth day in the vile swampland when the pair from One decided that their allies were no longer particularly useful to them.
Of course, a common trait of Careers is arrogance and that extends to their view on their allies. The Ones believed that together they would easily be able to take out Olga.
They believed wrong as Olga was able to slice Prince across the gut before he could do anymore than lay a cut into her arm. He slumped over into the swamp water to drown right as two things happened.
First was that, with Prince's death, Olga had killed a tribute from all Districts aside from Two, Four, Six and Seven.
Second was that, before Olga could kill Bauble, the sly One girl had stabbed Olga in the arm with a poisoned dart.
Mercury was quick to dispatch Bauble, having a sense of District pride and loyalty to a lesser degree than Olga, but the poison was already flowing through Olga's veins. She kneeled over and slumped against a gnarled tree growing out of the rancid swamp water.
"What do we do?" Reef asked, having been standing back throughout the entire attempted betrayal. "Let her die? Take her back to the Cornucopia?"
"May have to be the former," Mercury said, grim. "That poison looked nasty. I'd give her an hour, maybe two. Cornucopia is too far away."
Her allies left her, albeit with Mercury promising a win for Two this year, and Olga was only able to clutch at her searing, sickly wound as she knelt in the filth of the arena.
It was a common tactic of the Gamemakers to zoom in the cameras on a dying tribute. It broadcast their agony and despair for the nation, a duel move to entertain the Capitol and terrify the Districts.
The cameras zoomed in close enough to hear Olga request help. Between whispering that the illegal supplying of gold and other finances to the rebels years ago led the Ones to their deaths the plea for help was clear.
"Please," Olga whispered, keeping a tight hold on her wound. "I can't die yet... not done serving the Capitol... not done my duty for Panem... please, more time..."
Her patriotism and pride in serving the Capitol had accumulated a fortune of sponsor funding, unused until now due to her sheer competence in the arena. Thus, all it took was Runa to receive a phone call from Captain Machete in the mentor viewing room and select to buy an antidote.
It was sent down within a minute of being bought. Olga's hand shook madly from the poison, but years of rigid and firm training allowed her to properly jam the needle into her arm. It was to the relief of the Capitol and the disgust of the Outliers that her vitals swiftly began to stabilise.
"Thanks and glory be to the Capitol. With honour I shall serve the Capitol and Two," Olga said as she forced herself to her feet, taking a few practise steps to balance herself. "The hunt isn't over yet. Four Districts still to pay their due... can't rest... must hunt..."
And hunt she did, as later that same rancid night Olga caught up with the girl from Seven. It was no contest at all and with the boom of a cannon that followed Fernie being impaled upon Olga's sword the chances of Seven getting their third victor were dead.
"In the Dark Days forests in Seven were set ablaze and axes were struck into uncountable numbers of skulls, adult and child alike. The peaceful, productive forests become slaughter sites for senseless death. This is where rebellion led them."
With the harshness of the swamp arena and how, at that point in time, even the wiliest of Outliers would have trouble surviving in such a place it was not a huge shock when only four were left on the sixth day of the Games. Olga made it become a mere two left once she came across her former allies. Ignoring their suggestion of hunting the last Outlier first she had made short work of them. Reef lay sprawled in her own blood, the swamp water becoming a very ugly crimson, while Mercury lay dying upon his back on a damp bank.
"Win it... for Two..." he wheezed, some sense of being impressed in his voice.
"I will. You fought valiantly," Olga said, giving a firm nod to mercy before she bought down the sword.
For a few moments Olga was silent, content to just catch her breath for the time being. But soon, she laid out the bodies of her fallen allies neatly and stood before them.
"In the Dark Days even District Two was not innocent. Brother turned on brother, sister on sister and many fell in the quarries that were made to collapse. They died alone in the dirt like animals. Even the humblest of blacksmiths were known to disrupt the stable peace by making swords and handing them out to civilians. This is where rebellion led them."
Counting down on her fingers Olga nodded to herself, satisfied. All that remained of her once varied array of opponents was Chev, the loud mouth from Six. Olga set off hunting right away, intent on achieving victory and keeping her vow for one kill per District.
"Blessed be, merciful Capitol, for a showdown worthy of the milestone of the Tenth Games is looming near," Olga promised, keeping her sword gripped tightly in hand.
Olga hunted long throughout the night, as if playing the most grisly game of hide and seek. As the sixth day became the seventh, Chev proved to be illusive and rather hard to find. Olga only became more excited, if in a rather subdued way, expecting one amazing showdown between loyalist and rebel.
"I'll find him soon," Olga vowed. "Until I do, keep sending the crocodiles. Mutts were certainly not innocent in the Dark Days, having caused all sorts of harm to both sides."
The Gamemakers obliged, gradually leading Olga towards the final battle while the patriot Career left a massive trail of blood and death crocodiles in her wake.
There was no grand finale.
Olga easily spotted Chev from a distance away. The sixteen year old had holed himself up in a tree in the middle of a particularly muddy area of the swamp, lacking any sort of weapon. He seemed resigned, not afraid, when Olga started the slow trek towards him.
"It ends here," Olga said, proud.
"Indeed it does," Chev replied, stretching out. "So, gonna lecture me for what my District did wrong in the Dark Days. Let me guess, if you kill me then you'll have gotten one from every District?"
"Correct," Olga confirmed, her eyes narrowing as she started to loom nearer and nearer. "How about you come down from that tree so we can settle this, man against woman? I'll give you a free punch, I swear it on the Capitol."
Chev seemed to consider this for a moment and made to move. The Capitol were eager for blood, ready for the much hyped grand finale.
"No," Chev said, a dry smirk crossing his face.
What happened next would go down as one of the most disappointing finales in the history of the Hunger Games. At least, in the eyes of the Capitol and any loyalists they had, that is. The talk was cut from the DVD release and only available from memory of the elderly, or from the highly risky black market.
"You expect me to take part in a gruesome gory battle just so you can satisfy your ego and your obsession with being a lapdog to those tyrants? No," Chev said, cold as ice. "Look at me, I can never beat you. I know I am about to die... but you're not killing me. They are not killing me. Neither are the crocs."
Chev took out a handful of poisonous berries he'd scavenged during the days of isolation and foulness.
"You're not killing anybody from Six, and I refuse to give anybody a 'grand finale," Chev said, smug. "Cheers. Maybe one day you'll get off your master's lap and see just how wrong this all is."
Olga screamed in fury, charging forth and throwing her sword to land the kill.
It was too late.
The sword missed, not being made for throwing, but by the time it had gotten anywhere near Chev he had already downed the berries and passed without pain. The cannon fired, the swamp as silent as the emptiness the Capitol audience felt.
The victory trumpets broke the silence, but Olga's screams of purest rage broke it a whole lot better. She was blue in the face and her lungs screamed to emptiness by the time she was on the hovercraft.
One more, just one more! She won, she served her nation and yet the rebel from Six had still managed to outwit her and the glorious Capitol.
It took three syringes of sedatives to calm Olga down enough for her to be given medical attention. Her temper had been that severe.
"That cheating, rebellious, no good, rotten, piece of rancid..." Olga trailed off into gibberish and then silence as she went under.
Olga was a popular Victor among the Capitol, all of them adoring her proud and patriotic attitude. She was seen as very much 'one of them'. Indeed, even Orion would freely admit that she was easily his favourite Victor so far without any contest at all.
But, the lack of a finale and being denied the chance to partake in the most vital of battles would follow her throughout her life. Many a day she would curse herself for not being faster or for not thinking to carry a crossbow with her. Alas, there was no longer anything she could do.
But, after being welcomed home like a hero, she was told that others could do plenty for her. Willingly obeying Captain Machete and Mr Overwhill, she became the poster girl for the Career Academy and all the rewards that it could bring to both the individual and the community at large.
Easy Games, fame, fortune, no kids from Two dying like the terrified younger Outliers and much, more more. Many followed Olga's example and would volunteer over the years, proud to fight, serve and risk their lives for the immense rewards.
"...I never wanted this," Baron said, observing what Olga's influence was doing to his once peaceful District. "Never."
"With luck, they'll forget all about us," Runa said, holding Baron's hand. "She's the Victor they want, not us."
Olga would always impose the same advice year after year, whether as a speaker or in her eventual role as the Headmistress of the Academy.
"Go for Six first. Don't let those vermin get away. One inch can mean a mile," she would always tell them.
Olga, for many years, would think she had ensured nobody from Six would ever follow Chev's example and cause problems for the generous, all knowing Capitol. Indeed, they would die and die and die over and over again from the tributes she inspired and mentored.
At least... until the one time they didn't and a descendant of Chev's family would do exactly what she had fought to prevent. But, that's another story...
"Ten years of the Hunger Games... it seems like a massive milestone, but hardly anything compared to how long it went on for," Peeta said, slowly shaking his head. "Two hundred and thirty deaths by this point. It just... I guess... nevermind. There's no words for it."
"None except 'this is wrong'. Part of me wonders if the Games may have ended earlier if different people won than who did, but I try not to think about that," Katniss said, leading Peeta on. "It just drives me a bit mad."
"Ask what if too many times and it'll be all you can think about," Peeta said, slowly nodding. "...But, you know, I'm glad this woman won her Games. I mean, nothing against the innocent swho died, but... well, you can see what I mean."
Peeta pointed to the ground. On it was the relaxed, gently smiling face of a curly haired teenager with eyes full of life. It was Mags.
"I wish we'd gotten to know her better," Peeta said, a hand to his chin. "She really seemed like a sweet old lady. I;m glad she was on our side until..."
"...Until the end," Katniss finished, quietly. "I agree."
There we go, the tenth Victor on the list! Naturally, it can be safely assumed that Careers are pro-Capitol, at least far more often than an Outlier would be. So, I figured a patriot Career would be an interesting sort of character to follow, especially with the impact they have on D2 and, in a sense, D6. I figure that it'd take a bit of example for people to really start taking the Career idea seriously, so why not have the 'perfect patriot victor' kick things down the path that leads to people like Cato?
And now, we reach the first canon Victor, Mags! How will her Games unfold? Stay tuned to find out!
Stats
District 1: Peridot Gaudy (8th Games)
District 2: Baron Overwhill (4th Games), Runa Peace (7th Games), Olga Machete (10th Games)
District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games)
District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games)
District 5: N/A
District 6: N/A
District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games)
District 8: N/A
District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games)
District 10: N/A
District 11: N/A
District 12: Duke Saint-Rose (6th Games)