Today, Tomorrow and Yesterday

Chapter 15: Playing War

My heart pounds so loud in my chest that I swear the crowd must be able to hear it, even over their thunderous applause and the booming chaos coming from the speakers. They've fixed the Tournament up to be quite the crazy show, entertaining us for the last several hours with live bands, some acrobatics, a few military demonstrations, and of course a science display or two. Maybe three, I wasn't paying attention.

But now we're here and now it's time and I am completely and utterly terrified. So little and yet so much is riding on this fight between two people. And Megan and I have to sit up here in the rafters and do nothing except watch. Well, maybe a little more than that. Silently, I thank Justin from the bottom of my heart for his tech gifting. He and the team don't even know yet. We don't know how to tell them.

How exactly do you explain that Megan has a headset on that she's using to talk to her back-from-the-dead sister who is currently about to fight in the biggest event to take place since the Inauguration at the end of the Silent War? Yeah, that doesn't sit well, and I didn't even list the Shulkerbahn aspect, or the amnesia, or...

"Warren, calm the f-"

"I'm perfectly calm." I snort, interrupting her "French".

"Then stop looking so dang nervous. She's got this." Megan insists.

"I feel powerless." I mumble, folding my arms a little and sighing. She puts a hand on my knee, gently enough to not knock my position on the wall off-balance.

"I'm not exactly comforted either, but we have to believe in her. It's literally the only choice we have."

My nod is weighted by the knowledge of the aching unknowingness of the plan. Shock... Grace staged a little accident to bust open her restraining device so she could get at some of the drug inside. They actually didn't put another one back on her, thankfully, so she's had some time to recover and train today. But the precious amount of the drug she saved in a vial is waiting for her to get on her hands before the match. Apparently, she will shake hands with Quick before-hand, allowing her to transfer the drug. Yet, that still requires her to make sure she makes a cut on his hand so it can get in his blood. If she does that, it'll slow him down and she should be able to win. She just has to catch him once. It was the best plan we could create, we were stumped on anything Megan and I could do to help. Thankfully, we have Grace.

Megan holds up a hand and I make sure I fall silent as she listens to her headset. Shock has to speak quietly to hold her cover, and therefore Megan needs every ounce of quiet we can muster to make sure she hears the updates.

"Worry about staying in one piece." Megan whispers back. "The plan is second."

Now that sounds more like a sister than the militant and organized Megan I know. It almost makes me laugh, seeing this side of her. I love it, I've seen it in small doses, but this is almost like watching her crack open a little of her shell. Beautiful.

A small smile graces Megan's face, and she whispers something even I can't hear before looking a little startled. Her eyes flick up – well sort of down – to the arena. I instantly know what that means, and I swallow the lump the forms in my throat. The crowd goes absolutely nuts as curling smoke blasts across the stage set at one end of the arena, and the lights turn psychedelic in color and pattern, even in the half-light of early dusk. They bathe the whole place in dancing light that nearly erases everything.

"Without further ado, let's get ready to fight!" The announcer yells in a low voice from somewhere unseen. "Shock and Quick!"

Somehow the noise goes up even more decibels as the two Shulkerbahns, their uniforms gleaming in all the types of light, step out amongst the smoke. I look around as the lights focus on spotlighting them and leave the rest of the arena in dim normalcy. The scene is similar to what I remember of athletic games. People are wearing colors to claim sides of the fight, some waving posters or flags. There is a fair amount of B Squadron or U.N.A logos present, as well. I could imagine someone looking into this from an objective point of view and not understanding the position of us rebels. What could be wrong? Where's the tyranny?
It's in the apprehension on both Shulkerbahn's faces. In the way they look at each other, almost apologetically, as they shake hands and ducks their heads into a symbolic semi-glare. I don't know why I've never seen it, maybe because we don't see much of the other Shulkerbahns; but they really do look like victims. Confident, uniformed, superpowered victims. But still victims. Element is in another category. She loves this life, savors the authority and power. I don't think the rest of them are like her.