I'm doing science and I'm still alive. (goldenwire) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-03-08 20:12:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ! 56th games, - capitol, victor: 33rd beetee latier |
WHO: Beetee Latier
WHAT: BT does the creep.
WHEN: During the 56th Games
WHERE: The Capitol
STATUS: Completed vignettes. I should probably have posted this during the actual round. Oh well.
Some mentors devoted their entire attention to the Hunger Games, pouring their hearts and souls into their tributes, but such methods had not, empirically, yielded any significant difference in results. Beetee gave the Games the amount of attention he believed they deserved, but he divided his attention whenever he came to the Capitol. He multitasked. He was a processor running multiple functions at once, the neurons firing in his brain faster than his hands and eyes could follow. As he discussed strategy with District 3 over the electronic network, he read as other districts did the same, layering holographic screens over each other to hide his surveillance (needless to say, Capitol monitors received a sanitized version of his browsing history). In past years, Beetee hadn't monitored his peers' communications quite so extensively, just enough to deduce how they felt. This time something was different, if not quite alive, a spirit hovering among them. His cursor sat, poised and blinking, in response to an inquiry from Faraday, as he scanned a missive from Sei Nightjar. The Capitol had sensed it too. As he watched Ace and Machine rendezvous, he made his first attempt of the season at accessing reports beyond Sei's pay grade. Beetee couldn't always crack into encrypted, higher-level Capitol communications, but past undertakings had yielded precious kernels for District 13. He had to be a ghost in the wires, careful not to leave a trace. As his decryption program gleaned what it could, fractured phrases filtered along the bottom of the screen. ... unite... of course the victor who mentored two of her children... not after the incident in District 11… To an outside observer, the smirk on Beetee's face could have been a reaction to his tribute's joke, but his eyes flickered subtly towards Ace's ally. Even if he won, Rye wouldn't ever learn of the quickly-squashed protest in his home district. Two days later, the camera lingered in agonizingly long cuts over Machine's mangled fingers. Beetee paid attention only to note the need for an antiseptic cream, at minimum. At least the death of one tribute concentrated resources. He logged the request and swiped at the screen, bringing up an aerodynamic javelin design next to Machine's face. He'd designed it in collaboration with a Capitol arms manufacturer upon a wealthy citizen's request. Beetee compressed what appeared to be the javelin file and routed it to his personal computer in District 3. His computer, following a predetermined protocol, forwarded the stolen weapon designs to District 13. ... Peacekeepers authorized… District 8…antidote for Snow after the feast… With both tributes dead, Beetee devoted more time to tweaking his decryption program. He had to work on it subtly or else risk exposure, but the reward could shave years off of the rebellion's timeline. If only he had more dates, more locations, more names. He took a sip of coffee and scrolled through the results of his latest endeavor, his fingers curling tightly around the handle of his mug as he processed what he read. … victor in communication with District 13… eliminate threat… District 3. |