"Are you sure you want to do this?" Khalid asks pensively. "You can still leave now and no one will ever think any less of your honor. You have already shown us you can fight."

"It's not me that I'm worried about," I reply with a cool assurance which seems to give him more confidence. He then pushes aside the flap.

"After you," he says with a mix of politeness and worry. I step into the tent only to be confronted with thirty of Khalid's senior men. They are the heads of the individual families and make up the tribe's ruling council. They will be the ones to decide on whether to adopt my plan, but as soon as they see me, they begin to yell and shout in the angriest words of their language. Some even jump to their feet and begin motioning with their hands like they were trying to shoo out a troublesome dog.

I hold firm, despite my instant apprehension. Khalid told me this would happen. The Council Tent is a place that all women are forbidden to go, no matter their accomplishments. It doesn't help matters that I'm dressed in only a t-shirt and pants. With their concept of female, modesty, I might as well be naked.

Khalid shouts something in words that I do not understand. It seems to slightly quell the ruckus. After this, I'm forever in his debt now. He has put his status and position as sheik on the line, not only by advocating my proposal, but also for disregarding their traditions.

"Are you ready?" he asks me as the last man inside the tent finally takes a seat on the sand floor.

"Yes," I say walking in front of the crowd. "You'll translate for me, right?" I say trying to hide my nerves.

"Of course," he says with a reassuring smile. He takes his place behind me and I step forward to address the council.

"How hard can this be? I've seen General Snow do it a million times." I think as I take a deep breath. "I'm afraid we haven't had the chance to be properly introduced," I speak as Khalid restates my words behind me so that they can be understood by all. "My name is Command Sergeant Major Olivia Hightower of the United Districts of Panem Defense Forces. I am a leader in our military and am a veteran of many combat engagements." I notice that a few men in the crowd scoff as Khalid translates this late statement, but I keep pushing forward. "First, I wanted to thank all assembled here for saving my life two days ago when the pirates shot down my hovercraft. It seems that we both share a common enemy. That's the reason I'm here.

The mission that I have been given by my superiors is to assist the people of Tripolitania in any way to help resolve both the food crisis that you are facing and to eliminate the militia threat…both for you and for Panem's allies in Europe. The morning I was shot down, we were attempting to deliver a shipment of aid to the men, women, and children in the Binwaldi Refugee Camp when we were attacked. I'm sure that if the pirates had not committed such an overtly hostile act, we would have already been helping to deliver aid to you as well." More grumbling comes from the council. These aren't words I'm used to saying at all. I've never been very political. I clandestinely wipe the sweat from my nervous palms on my shirt, clear my throat loudly, and continue.

"Anyways…circumstances have seemed to change for both of us. I didn't realize that the situation here was this desperate, but after graciously being shown your camp, I believe that now is the time for action!" The men of the council begin to talk loudly both to each other and back at me. I raise my voice trying to speak over them and Khalid matches my volume and tone perfectly. "As I have said, I am an experienced combat leader. I was very impressed with what I saw yesterday when you defended the village, however, if you want to strike a blow at the militias that they will not be able to recover from, I respectfully request that I be allowed to lead you on an attack on the main pirate camp…"

The room explodes. All the men are on their feet shouting, screaming, and angrily pointing their fingers. Khalid steps forwards and tries to calm the melee as I attempt to hold firm next to him, but I'm terrified that I might have burned a bridge by my comments that cannot be rebuilt. Finally, an older man in the back shouts over the others and pushes his way to the front. He must be someone who commands great respect, because the others immediately back down and let him speak. He glares directly at me and begins to talk.

At first, Khalid doesn't say a word, but I quickly turn to him.

"I want to know exactly what he's saying…"

"Hatchet…"

"Exactly!" I shout at Khalid. He begins translating again.

"How dare do you come in to this place and presume to lecture us? You know nothing of who we are and what we have been through. You would be nothing more than bleached bones rotting in the desert or some criminal's…." Khalid hesitates but I flash him another angry look which forces him to say it, "…whore if we had not rescued you from their grasp.

You can fight, yes, we have all seen it, but you are not a warrior! Only a man can understand what it takes to maintain one's honor and defend his home and tribe. Obviously, your supposed country does not understand this or else you would not be here.

We are not fools. We know of the outside world and that your army only came to this place because the weak and greedy in Europe begged you too. What did you think? That you would come here and magically the evil ones would throw down their weapons at the sight of your technology? They will continue to fight until everyone in Tripolitania bows before them.

We refuse to do that, even if it means running until the ends of the sands. To attack them is idiotic and means certain death. There is no honor in this…You do not understand because again, you are not a warrior…you are just a brawling thug looking for a fight that is not yours! Leave this place, and do not return!"

The room explodes again in shouts of support and cheers for the old man as he takes his seat back in the rear of the tent. I feel like I've been punched in the chest. I've offered help and been flatly disrespected in return. Khalid steps forward with shouts of his own. He is met by more jeers and taunting.

Rage begins rapidly building inside of me. I feel an angry burning behind my eyes so hot that I think they will pop out of my skull. These men are willing to do nothing and let their families starve supposedly to prove a point about honor. Suddenly, I realize that I'm not a diplomat, I'm a soldier. Maybe they'll understand actions instead of words.

The Council Tent is one of the biggest in the entire camp. The large, peaked roof is supported by a thick piece of timber right in the middle of the group of angry onlookers. Khalid now has his back to me as he continues to quiet the crowd to no avail.

Suddenly, a flash streaks past his head and my hatchet buries itself two inches deep in the wood of the support beam. The entire tent shakes a bit at the force of the blow. There is an audible gasp and the room falls completely silent as I push forward, angrily knocking shocked tribesmen out of the way until I reach my weapon. I wrench it free from the beam and walk straight back to Khalid at the front of the tent.

"I want you translate every word I say exactly as I say it? Do you understand?" I spit at him through gritted teeth.

"Olivia…" he says as if he's given up.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" I yell as my Sergeant Major voice comes shooting to the surface. Khalid can only nod in response.

"Good, now that I have your attention," I say turning back to the council. "I really don't give a shit what you think about me, or my country. Really, I don't. All I know is that I was given a mission to aide you and end the pirate threat, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.

Where I come from a mission is a sacred. That doesn't just go for military missions either. That goes for missions like loyalty, friendship…and family. I have a spouse and a child just like you and I consider it a mission to take care of them, no matter what the cost. From what I've seen, that doesn't seem to be the case here…" I've overtly insulted all of them, but the men are still too frozen with fear to say a word.

"Your wives and children are starving…starving! Do you understand that? If you keep running deeper and deeper into the desert, you all will die…for what? So you can say that you never bowed down before your enemies? News flash, assholes: you're bowing before them right now because you're letting them win. What do you think will happen when you all starve? They win anyway."

I see Khalid straighten up as if he wants to say something, but I raise a hand to stop him. "Yes, I know you've tried before. I know your old sheik fell against the pirates, but that's because you didn't have one thing you have now…me.

Now, tomorrow morning, I'm going to the enemy camp. That's with or without you. You can follow, or stay the hell here and rot. Either way, I don't really give a damn. I just find it kinda funny that all you all brag about being big tough men…" Suddenly, I reach up and grab one of my breasts purely for shock value. Some of the men actually drop their gazes and blush with shame at the sight. "…but this woman seems to have the only pair in this tent…"

I await their response, but there is only stunned silence. Apparently, Khalid fulfilled his promise to translate exactly. Finally, the man who faced me down earlier slowly gets to his feet and walks back forward. I straighten my back and grip my hatchet firmly. For all I know, he's going to try to get them to kill me right here and now.

The man begins to speak and Khalid starts translating again.

"You will die if you go alone…"

"Probably," I reply callously, "but I'm not willing to just run away." There is a pause.

"Then…" the old man says stepping towards me, "I will go with you." He reaches up two fingers, kisses them, and then touches them to his forehead in a gesture of respect. "Perhaps, God has sent you here for a reason…" He addresses me as something I don't understand. The rest of the men in the tent burst out into laughter. I turn to Khalid confused.

"What did he call me?"

He smiles as he says, "he called you 'Warrior…without a sword." Suddenly, I feel myself smile as well as I get the joke. I turn back to the old man.

"I like that title, because I don't need a sword…I have this," I say brandishing my hatchet. Another man in the tent jumps to his feet and shouts

"I will as well!"

"Me too!"

"I will fight!" Man after man shouts out. Then, in an instant, they are all on their feet yelling something in unison.

"What are they saying?" I ask Khalid as I fast become overwhelmed by the newfound sense of enthusiasm and courage coursing through this place.

"They are saying, 'God is Great! May he guide our blades!"

It feels like a million pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders as I realize that against all odds, I have convinced them to fight alongside me. Khalid runs up next to me and plants a grateful kiss on my cheek.

"You may have just saved all of us," he whispers into my ear as the rest of the men continue their chanting.

"No," I say grinning from ear to ear. I plant a firm hand on his shoulder and pull him close. "I think you just saved yourselves…"