Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.

Note: Aaaaand here's the last of the prologues. Thanks to everyone who submitted. The tribute list is at the end of the chapter.

*waits for everyone to check it and come back*

I ended up with 37 submissions for 26 spots, which meant I had to turn down some tributes I really liked, so please don't take it personally if your tribute didn't make it in. I also needed to scoot a few tributes to districts that weren't listed on their forms in order to make things work - either because there was a particular mentor or district partner they would work well with, or just because some districts were quite popular. If you'd like to make any adjustments based on the district your tribute ended up in, please let me know.

Tributes are also up on the website, and the section will be updated with bios as they're introduced. Let me know if you'd prefer a different picture, if I got the spelling wrong, or anything like that.

And now, without further ado, a little update from Thirteen:

Prologue
The Results They Cause

Beatrice Turner, 17
District Thirteen

It was all their fault.

Beatrice wiped the sweat from her forehead, then lifted another load of supplies. She still wasn't used to working in the sun. Most of those born in District Thirteen had spent their whole lives underground, and as far as she was concerned, it didn't seem like she'd missed much. The sun was so damn hot. There was so much noise up here – noise from all the people, as well as the machines that were being used to rebuild.

Rebuild. That was what they were calling it. But there hadn't really been anything up here to rebuild – not for more than half a century. What was the matter with staying underground, anyway? Sure, there was more room on the surface, but it was cooler underground. It was peaceful.

Or at least it had been.

People talked about the Capitol's victory as if it had come out of nowhere, but anyone who had been paying attention knew that wasn't true. It had been coming for years – the inevitable result of letting too many of them into their district. The refugees, the ones coming from the other districts, weren't content with hiding underground and living in peace. They wanted more. They had wanted to bring the Capitol down.

It was their fault, in the end. The team that had brought Imalia back to their district – most of them had been outsiders. If they had just left well enough alone, if they had just been content to live the rest of their lives in Thirteen and not meddle with what was going on in the outside world, nothing would have changed.

Her parents would still be alive.

Her sister…

Beatrice gripped her load tightly. Her little sister Amelia was alive, but the doctors said she would never be able to see again. The virus had done too much damage before the antidote had arrived. It wasn't fair. Amelia shouldn't have to pay the price for their mistakes. Thirteen shouldn't have to pay the price for the other districts' mistakes.

Suddenly, Beatrice crashed into something. No, not something. Someone. She hadn't even realized there was another girl there, hauling a load just as large as hers. They both toppled to the ground, and Beatrice landed hard, swearing under her breath. "Why don't you watch where you're going?"

"Sorry. Just a bit distracted, I guess. Need a hand?"

Beatrice glared at the hand that was held out to her. There was no mistaking the accent, or the fact that, unlike most in Thirteen, this girl had clearly spent some time in the sun. "Just get out of my way," Beatrice spat, struggling to her feet and deliberately giving the other girl's box of supplies a kick, spilling it across the ground. "Or better yet, go back to where you came from."

The other girl took a step back, and Beatrice stormed off. In the back of her mind, of course, she knew it wasn't the other girl's fault. She hadn't made the decision to let Imalia into their district. She'd probably had nothing to do with it at all. But damn it, she was just so angry. It was the Capitol that was to blame, really, but…

But no good came from attacking the Capitol. Everyone knew that. Peacekeepers were everywhere now, and they had cracked down hard on anyone who even suggested striking back against the Capitol. But they didn't seem to mind a scuffle here and there between those who had been born in Thirteen and … well, the others. Maybe they weren't the right target, but they were a safer target.

And safety was all she'd ever wanted.

Maurice Spindle, 15
District Thirteen

He'd only ever wanted to be safe.

Maurice clenched his fists as he stared at the ceiling, too nervous to sleep. The reaping was only a few days away now. It wasn't fair. He and his mother had fled to District Thirteen because they had wanted to be safe – safe from the Games, safe from the Capitol, safe from the fate that his father had suffered for standing up to Head Peacekeeper Rowan.

They had taken a risk, sneaking away in the dead of night in the middle of a storm – a storm that had temporarily disrupted the power supply to the fences along the border. They had spent the next few weeks hiding in the wilderness until a search team from Thirteen had found them and brought them in. That had been five years ago. He had thought he was safe.

But now…

Maybe it would have been better if they'd stayed. Maybe his mother would still be alive.

Or maybe they would both be dead.

Maurice closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the wind – a sound he hadn't heard much in his time here. Once rebuilding had begun on the surface, the refugees from the other districts had been among the first to move aboveground – partly because they were more comfortable up here, but partly because … well, people didn't seem to want them around. People blamed them for drawing the Capitol's attention, for being too ambitious with their plans.

They hadn't been his plans, of course. His plan had been to live in Thirteen for the rest of his life. His plan had been to survive. Beyond that … well, he'd never really given that much thought. He was alive. He was safe. That had seemed to be all that mattered. The fact that a few of the refugees had taken it upon themselves to seek out more and more recruits from the other districts – that wasn't his fault.

Except … well, it was hard to disagree with what they'd been trying to do. They'd been tricked. They'd been outplayed. But that didn't mean they'd been wrong to try.

The leaders, though, had been wrong to hold out as long as they had. They should have surrendered the moment it became clear that President Brand wasn't bluffing. Instead, they'd held out for days, scrambling, desperately trying to find a cure that would have taken their best scientists months to develop. They should have surrendered before…

Before his mother had died. His mother, and so many others. The virus had claimed her mere hours before the mayor had surrendered. If they'd made that choice just a few hours sooner…

But they hadn't. His mother was dead, but he certainly wasn't going to go around blaming everyone born in District Thirteen for that. Well, not much, anyway. It wasn't their fault that they didn't realize the Capitol was serious. They hadn't been through what the other districts had. They'd been content to simply hide in the shadows, waiting, taking in a stray or two from the other districts and feeling smugly satisfied about doing the bare minimum for those who arrived on their doorstep seeking help.

Maurice's eyes flew open as a crashing sound cut through the gentle night air. Something had smashed through the window. Maurice flung himself under the bed as another crash echoed through the night, coming from one of the nearby houses. Finally, he crept out from his hiding place and picked up the brick that had landed in the middle of the room. The words GO BACK had been painted on one side.

Maurice heaved the brick back out the window. Whoever had thrown it probably didn't even have a clue who he was. All they knew was that he was up here, on the surface, so he was probably from one of the other districts. That was all the excuse they needed. Maurice sank back onto his bed, tears welling in his eyes. GO BACK.

Part of him wished he could.

Nicodemus Ford, 45
District Thirteen Mentor
Victor of the 26th Hunger Games

There was no going back now.

Nicodemus let out a deep breath as he, Duke, and Lana reached the train. Harakuise was already waiting for him, looking a bit more tense than usual. Duke clapped Nicodemus gently on the back. "I'll see you in a few days, then."

Nicodemus nodded. It had been his idea to head to District Thirteen a few days before the actual reaping in order to get a feel for how things were going there. Both Harakuise and Eldred had readily agreed, and from the look of things, Harakuise was eager to get going. The two of them boarded the train, which started moving almost immediately. "What's the rush?" Nicodemus asked.

Harakuise waved a hand. "Nothing much. Just some unintended consequences."

"In Thirteen?"

"Among other places."

"Meaning…?"

Harakuise shook his head as he took a seat on one of the couches. "Look, Nicodemus, it really isn't anything you need to be concerned about."

"If it might affect our tributes, I think it is. If there's rebel activity—"

"Nothing of that sort – not in Thirteen, anyway. From what I've heard, there's some tension between those who were born there and those who came from the other districts. Each group blaming the other for what happened, tempers running high, that sort of thing. They're scared and frustrated and looking for someone to take it out on."

"So they're taking it out on each other."

Harakuise shrugged. "It's human nature to pick the easier target. Sleeping kids are easier to stand up to than Peacekeepers. Not everyone has your guts."

Nicodemus raised an eyebrow. "Was that a compliment?"

"An observation."

"Or maybe an attempt to distract me from the fact that you said there wasn't any rebel activity in Thirteen. What's going on elsewhere?"

"If I'd wanted to distract you from that, I wouldn't have mentioned it in the first place."

That was probably true. Which meant it hadn't been a slip. Which meant Harakuise wanted him to know, but was too stubborn to just come out and tell him. "You said unintended consequences," Nicodemus reasoned. "You're talking about the consequences of your plan. The Victors who have been stirring up unrest for the last few years – not all of it has died down, has it."

"No."

"I haven't noticed anything in Six. Nothing out of the ordinary, that is."

"That's because Six was a mess long before Duke and Lana got involved, and they've been doing their best to cool things down, to make sure that everyone knows it was just part of the plan. Kyra, Tosh, Oliver – they've been doing the same thing. Some of the other Victors have caught on, too. Sadira's creating a community garden. Basil's working on a district library. In places where there are tangible, measurable positive results of the Victors' new status as the Capitol's ambassadors, things seem to be going pretty well."

Nicodemus leaned forward in his wheelchair. "Okay, now you've gotten ahead of me. The Capitol's ambassadors?"

For a moment, Nicodemus thought he could almost see Harakuise's mind backing up, turning around, slowing down a little to let Nicodemus catch up. After a moment, Harakuise leaned back and steepled his fingers. "Why do you think Eldred wanted to involve as many districts as possible in our plan?"

"I assumed he was trying to give Thirteen as many options as possible, make it more likely that they would take the bait."

"That's part of the reason, yes, but it's not the only one. When Misha burned down District Four's training center, the ramifications went far beyond District Four and their Career system. Trust in the Victors was shaken – at least among the Capitolites. If the Victors couldn't be relied on to remain loyal, who could? This plan was our chance to redeem ourselves, to show our loyalty – loyalty that Eldred intends to reward. He wants to work with us. He wants to make things better. But he had to convince the Capitol that we could be trusted. For the most part, the plan is going smoothly."

"Except…"

"Except in a few of the districts that clearly had no hand in the plan. Sadira's put up a good show of pretending she was in on it, and Eldred's happy to let her. We probably would have recruited her if the plan had lasted a few more years. But districts like Three or Eight, things are different. Avery and Kit weren't exactly ideal candidates for us to recruit."

"Neither was I, I noticed."

Harakuise waved a hand dismissively. "Eldred reasoned you would object to the idea of holding a population hostage with a deadly virus until they surrendered."

"He was right."

"But there was never any danger that Thirteen might actually sway you to their side. You've proven you can be trusted. Avery and Kit know better than to openly defy the Capitol, but they haven't exactly done anything to calm the situation down, either. There have been protests. Riots. In Three, there was nearly a strike at one of the factories, the Justice Building was vandalized, a Peacekeeper killed. The Head Peacekeeper in Eight … His family was targeted by a mob. People were injured, and some were even killed. Things haven't escalated to the same level elsewhere, but…"

"But they could."

"Yes."

"What do you need from me?"

"What makes you think I need something?"

Nicodemus shook his head. "You expect me to believe you're telling me all this because … what? You just want someone to talk to?"

"Well, you are a good listener. But no, I didn't expect you to believe that. I need you to keep an eye on Kit and Avery. For their own sake. They'll listen to you. Try to keep them from doing anything … rash."

"Like standing up to a Peacekeeper?"

"Touche." He leaned forward. "But what you did, you did out of mercy, not defiance. Maybe the result would have been the same either way, but the intention … the intention matters. And those two have a history of good intentions going … awry."

"I understand."

"I know."

For a moment, there was silence. At last, Nicodemus spoke. "What about Five?"

"Pardon?"

"You said something earlier about tangible, measurable positive results. A community garden in Seven. A library in Nine. Four gets their Career training back. Duke ended the rigged reapings in Six. So what does Five get out of all this? Or One and Two, for that matter. You said Tosh and Oliver have been working to calm things down in Two and Five. What's happening in One?"

For a moment, Harakuise said nothing. Then he quickly stood up and headed for the next room. "See, this is why I tell you things."

"Where are you going?"

"I have a phone call to make."

"Mistakes are as serious as the results they cause."

Tribute List

District One

Bellona Harlow
Clive Van Morren

District Two

Lily Rathna
Ross Artisan

District Three

Hattie Hespeler
Elseri Lumenova

District Four

Faven Aldana
Acher Ernetut

District Five

Euphoria Fonseca
Leven Gamakatsu

District Six

Christina Rae Kimetto
Rook Jubilee

District Seven

Galadriel Brinns
Leif Rosewood

District Eight

Edwina Rowan
Diyon Mendis

District Nine

Demeter Moire
Uriel Xia

District Ten

Swiss Galloway
Lucretious Adams

District Eleven

Anahi Cassidy
Oleander "Olly" Campos

District Twelve

Elysium "Ellie" Danvers
Elio Provost

District Thirteen

Karina Wheeler
Ophiuchus Valdemar