1:5:2 Fate (Part 2)

Crait wasted no time getting comfortable. They lounged in the centre stage as if they had owned The Destiny for years. Char appeared for a moment before vanishing once again. Crait didn’t even flinch but her sudden disappearance gave them cause for concern. Char materialised in the hallway, just outside the door to the bridge.
Despite the door being comfortably soundproofed, she still whispered. “Destiny, are you there?”
Slowly, her face formed on the skin of the door. “What do you need?” She whispered back.
“You’re not planning to do anything to Crait are you?” Char had no idea how she would respond but she watched for any changes in Destiny’s face.
“No.” Even though they didn’t exist, Destiny crossed her fingers.
“Good. I need them leaving alone… For now. Then you can haunt away or do whatever it is you were going to do.” Char smiled as she moved to open the door.
Destiny winced. “You’re going to have to wait a second.” A hand appeared and directed Char’s attention to a flashing panel.
“They better still be alive!” She scowled. The flashing faded and the door opened, Inside, a choking Crait had dragged themselves as far away from any visible vent. They wheezed as the air refilled their lungs.

For the briefest of moments, Char forgot who the figure before her was; all she saw was a person in need. She scanned them then started adjusting the focal point of her pistol. She didn’t hesitate. A wide, golden beam blanketed them. As it lingered, their breathing improved and their control of the act became more resolved. Once they could breathe properly, the spell was broken and Char saw Crait exactly as they were.
Char checked her work was complete before getting angry. “You dare tell anyone.” She aggressively gesticulated with her pistol.
“What? That you tried to kill me or that you shot me and it made me better?” Crait stood up and straightened themselves out.
Char shook her head. “Both… Neither… Just keep your trap shut.”
Crait looked at their fingertips. Still drying blood lingered from where they had wiped it from their nose and ears as the room rapidly depressurised. Char gave them a quick once over before pushing them back. “Am I all healed then?”
“You’re as…” Char hesitated. “As bad as new?” She paused again. “Yes. You’re sorted.”
“Thanks.” Crait sat back in Lore’s chair, getting themselves comfortable. “Shame about the killing me part but thanks.”
“That was Destiny. She wouldn’t have let you die.” Char tapped at the door frame.
“Yeah, wimp. I was watching your vitals the whole time. You could have been in there for another minute at least. Some nice augmentations you’ve got there.” Destiny pulled a face then melted away again.
“So… What was that thing you gave Pepp?” Char took a seat on The Destiny’s main console.
“It was part of a very long story.” Crait sighed. Char looked at them expectantly. “I suppose I could summarise. Temporal strain caused by that lot means that, until the end of the cycle, I can’t maim or kill any of you.”
“Maim?” Char raised an eyebrow.
“Cause life changing injuries.” Char continued to look at them, waiting. “Your Lore’s different and I have apologised for that… Anyway, If I, for example, crippled The First, all of time changes and so do all of the Lores. That ripple effect would crack time like an egg so, until we’re all stood on Quatarr together, I can’t hurt any of the versions of you or Lore… With the exception of you and your Lore. Clones are a special case but I made that promise.” Crait shook their head.
Char got herself comfortable, clearing the console of its switches and screens. “So, what was the tube then? And why did Ant react like that?”
“Did you know, there’s more that makes each Lore unique than their nickname?” Crait began. Char shrugged. “Well, in the early days, the Lores decided that each of them would carry a different weapon. I suppose it was an improvement on them all carrying that stupid truncheon and it gave them some versatility. Most of them chose pistols though so… At least they tried. In previous cycles, my past selves mostly left the Lores alone, engaging superficially when needed but never anything that would actually pose a threat to them. However, since it’s the last cycle, I thought: Why not go out with style?” A sly yet charismatic smile crossed their face. Crait tapped their knee. “Might I trouble you for a drink?” Their voice was polite and strangely soft.
“Of course.” Char walked over to the fabricator. “Any preferences?” Her tone hardened in remembrance of Crait.
“Tea please. Milk, two sugars.” Crait smiled. Char returned with the drinks. She immediately started drinking hers so Crait followed suit. The moment the tea touched their lips, they knew they had made a mistake but their already open mouth didn’t allow for correction in time; they tried not to react to the fact they had just burnt their tongue as they continued their story. “Ant was the first remnant Lore I met… I think we were on Faresis or Faendrosis… Either way, it was the first time I had personally met one of the remnants and they had met the new me.” Hesitantly, Crait lifted their tea to attempt a second sip. “That’s nice tea.” They set the cup down. “Obviously, with a pistol, they thought that they had the advantage but they must have forgotten who they were up against. I closed the gap between us then I snatched the thing from out of their hand. I only meant to tap them but it may have been a little harder than I had wanted. After that, I disassembled the thing in front of them as they slowly fell unconscious and stole the inner barrel and cooling sheath.”
“And you just keep that with you at all times then?” Char wondered what else lined Crait’s jackets.
“Just that one. And The First’s tooth.” Their jovial tone instantly froze. “As a reminder of what not to do… And before you say it: It. Was. An. Accident. I knew you could take the blow but I screwed up and hit them.” Crait sipped at their tea. “You’re never going to let me live that down are you?”
“Nope. They might though.” Char smiled, thinking of Lore. “They’re a lot more forgiving than the others.”
“You miss them then.” Crait sighed.
Her eyes widened and her face managed to morph through the various stages of grief, however, instead of reaching acceptance, she came to a stop in a middle ground between there and offence. “Obviously.”
They checked their Breacher. “You’ve known each other for a grand total of… Nearly a week. In that time, you’ve been racially abused, nearly killed and met twenty-five other versions of yourself. You may have gotten the memories but they didn’t. Whenever they are, they’re likely not even thinking about you.” Crait couldn’t help themselves. “You two are basically just strangers who…” Char made sure to cut them off properly. Her foot was firmly placed between their legs.
“They love me more than they’ll ever love you.” She pressed her foot into their crotch. “I never would.” She removed it before she could do any actual damage.
Crait respectfully mimed doffing their cap. “And that’s why I like you.” They smiled. “You two may look like the others, but you don’t think like them; and when they’re gone, then there will be a chance for peace in the universe.”
“What?” Char sat forwards.
“There are two possible outcomes to this adventure we both find ourselves on. Either you win and, eventually, The Omega Outcome claims the others leaving only you two to save the universe or I win and you two are the only surviving pair. You and Lore build up the universe to spite me and, reluctantly, we work together and save the universe. But either way, I don’t see the council surviving outside of the cycle they created.” Crait finished their tea. “I think even you realise they’ve become relics even in the cycle they’ve created. They’ve become so focussed on their goal that they’re refusing to see anything else. But I know you have. I’ve had to correct for you. Illia was a pain to set up but it gave me Undulia so there’s that. I really don’t like her. Sure she keeps Loren happy when I can’t and she’s competent but she’s also shagging my boyfriend and she’s weirdly obsessed with you.” Char snapped to attention. “Yeah, we offered to send Loren alone on that mission but she virtually begged to go. It was her idea to ‘gold up’.” Crait shook their head. “Like really, I do wonder what goes through her head… Where was I?” They backtracked through their last few thoughts before suddenly exclaiming. “Illia! Yes. Illia was a pain in the arse. I didn’t think it was possible to arrange a ceasefire between the Sat’Mach and the colony but you two managed it. Of course they’re still only humans and, like many Earth animals, they don’t like fireworks. Then you did it again on Rexel… Was not expecting to lose Simplicity there but you did it.”
“About that… How did you arrive on Simplicity when we saw it scrapped?” Char tapped the console, thinking before getting up and searching the cubby holes underneath the main desk. “It might be in one of these… Magpie loves filling… Ah!” She held aloft a chunk of hull. “How does your ship exist if I’ve got part of it’s hull here?”
“Your ship is called The Occam’s Razor. Use it to figure it out.” Crait gave a disappointed frown.
“Oh…” Char mirrored it. “It’s a sister ship.”
“There you go.” They applauded her sarcastically. “A sister ship I wasn’t expecting to ever need because, as I’ve said, you and your Lore are beautifully different.”
“Normally, I’d just take the compliment but given the source, I don’t know if it’s high praise or a mind game.” Char returned the hull piece to the draw she found it in then returned the console to its usual configuration.
“Can’t it be both?” Crait got up. “I’m guessing they’re ready for us.” They pointed to the top corner of the viewscreen. A flashing notification light had appeared.
Char nodded. “They’ll be boarding momentarily.”

Momentarily came sooner than either of them realised as the room’s lighting went from pleasantly dim to an assault on their eyes; the white light from The First’s Breacher caught them both off guard. Charrlene arrived soon after.
“The new calculations have been inputted and The Slingshot’s ready.” Charrlene gently moved Char to one side to start preparing The Destiny. “You two ready to go?”
“Should be.” Char froze. “Ah… I forgot to talk to Destiny.”
“I’m set.” Her face forced its way out of the screen. “I’ve read the updated flight plan. It’s a little messy but I can do it. At least you guys won’t have to worry about the radiation.” She scoffed. “Just the turbulence.”
Char’s eyes widened but both The First and Charrlene shot her reassuring looks that calmed her down. “We should be fine. It’s just entry and exit to the Breach that’ll be a little bumpy.” Charrlene smiled.
“The mission is simple. We Breach back to Quatarr, we find your Lore then we return.” The First was not as gentle as Charrlene had been when they forced Crait from the commander’s chair. “Any Questions?”
Crait’s hand shot up immediately. “If it takes a specific equation and a, frankly oversized, Spacio-Temporal Accelerator to get us there, how are we hoping to get back?” Char had to admit, it was a fairly good question.
“The K.A.D.S. is more than adequate to get us home, once it’s networked to the five sources of time travel it will have available to it. Three Breachers and two Quatarrian transporters will be more than enough to get us back to our own time.” The First started their own preparations from the chair.
“The system will require at least a day to cool after the jump though. And I have no idea what a jump of that length and complexity would do to me.” Destiny manifested beside Char. “We may need to be prepared to extend our mission is all I’m asking.”
“Noted, now get back to your position. Char, I want you monitoring temporal flux on that monitor there. Nothing over point one zero four and Crait… Crait, don’t think you’re getting off easy. I want you at that console there.” The First pointed to the console beside Char. “Char, I need them to be able to balance the output from the engines. The ship is going to want to spin as we enter but especially as we exit so Crait needs to level the engines’ outputs to keep us heading straight. Get them up to speed.”
Char hurried across to her station. Charrlene didn’t look impressed but she lacked the time to express herself more than a quick, glared dagger at The First which they very much missed. Crait sauntered over and stood by their console too. “This slider controls the left engine and the other one does the right. All the way to the top is their maximum obviously and this is them at rest.” She circled her finger around the label. “That monitor there is what you want to be looking at but you’ll be able to tell when we’re spinning.”
“Why can’t the computer handle this?” Crait spoke into the console.
“Because the computer will be busy maintaining our trajectory as we travel at Breach speeds without a tether.” The First responded. They continued in the same domineering tone. “This is The First to Slingshot control: Are you ready?”
“Control to Destiny. On your command.” Potts appeared in the top corner of the viewscreen. “Good luck.”
“Thanks Potts.” Charrlene smiled. “Beginning final preparations. Inputting tilt vectors.” The Destiny’s front face tilted to look at the stars before turning with The Slingshot to aim roughly at the Quatarr system.
“Set engines to full reverse.” The First barked. Destiny obliged however remained stationary.
“Sir, I can’t do that. You’ve left the handbrake on.” Destiny tried to sound respectful.
“I know.” The First tapped at the arm of the chair again. “Slingshot, begin energy induction.”
“Partial tether is forming.” Potts’ face was replaced with a bar chart.
“Drawing energy from The Razor for structural integrity.” Truly could be heard in the background.
“Tether is ready.” Potts returned. “Awaiting final input.”
The First rolled their sleeve up so they could comfortably rest their Breacher in the cradle. Char watched as they revealed the aged flesh and lowered their withered arm. As the wires connected to the Breacher, the display on the viewscreen grew into its final form. “Co-ordinates loaded. Launching in ten.” A countdown clock filled the screen.
Char’s vision blurred. It flickered from gold to blue to white to gold again as the numbers on the screen bled into one another. She tried to focus; the countdown was stuck, flicking between three and two, and a set of white footprints had appeared on the floor. She turned to The First and watched as their body tensed then relaxed then tensed again. Time was looping around her but she, herself, seemed unaffected. Her feet fit perfectly within the boundaries of the light as she followed their trail around the bridge and over to the cupboard in the corner. What was left of Lore’s spare armour set was hung on the rack, at the base, a spectral outline of what she presumed was her bottom had appeared. Following in the footsteps that had been created for her once again, she sat down. As she made contact with the cupboard, time resumed and the countdown ended.