1:5:3 Alterations (Part 3)

They returned to Sharr’Renn’s quarters only a moment after they originally left. The First and Charrlene marvelled at their surroundings; the room was unremarkable but, what it represented to them, made it hard to put their feelings into words. The First looked to Char and then to Lore with excited pride in their eyes as Lore parted the tent door and held it open for them to exit. Walking through the tent, Charrlene couldn’t help but stop and examine the shelves; her history on display surrounded by artefacts unfamiliar to her enticed her in a way she hadn’t been for what felt like centuries.
She pulled The First back, out of earshot of the others. “This is new.” She whispered.
“I know!” The First whispered back, giddy as a child on their birthday. “Look at it. It’s always been here.”
Charrlene pulled them into a celebratory embrace. “I really hope their plan succeeds but if it doesn’t, at least we got to see something new this time around.”
“Not every day we get to say that.” The First fluttered their eyebrow.
Sharr’Renn lifted herself and a scalding metal pot from beside the fire. She carried it in her bare hands over to the table before she poured tea for herself, Silus, and Timm'Othay, the three of them engaged in quiet discussion. In that moment, it was hard to see three fractured factions of the same race. They talked as old friends, completely lost in their conversation and oblivious to the world around them.
Silus took a sip of their drink and winced. “Oh. That’s bitter.” They scoured the table for the Tad Zuiwgr. Their eyes happened to meet the gaze of the room’s new occupants. “By the gods. It’s you… Really you.” The granulated sweetener spilled across the tabletop as Silus relaxed their grip on the spoon. Without hesitation, they started towards The First. They closed the gap and then their arms around The First’s deceptively youthful frame. “It’s been a while.”
“Longer than you know.” The First couldn’t help but smile. That changed.
“Don’t you realise what you’re doing?” Silus smacked The First’s shoulder with each syllable. “Three of you just after a time loop.”
“It’s fine.” The First held Silus’ wrist. “I don’t intend on meeting myself and they’re technically not me.” Silus looked confused. “They’re a clone.”
“A damn good one.” Silus started to scrutinise Lore. They twitched as Silus moved in closer. “They look exactly like you did when we first met. Strange that I knew they weren’t you though.”
“Tempora.” Charrlene pulled out a small, ticking device. “Quatarrians are incredibly sensitive to changes in Tempora. Just take the Niwen for example. Lore’s not as irradiated as they should be.” She waved it over both Lores and compared the readings. “Strange, you’re barely irradiated at all.” She showed Lore their reading. “How?”
“Strange.” Lore shrugged, wanting to move onto the more pressing matters. They tried to delicately remove the scanner from their face. They looked at the opportunity ahead of them; something about it was off. Time slowed as they focussed on the details. Silus’ full attention had been ensnared by Charrlene’s questioning with them and The First both wondering about the anachronistic Tempora readings while Timm'Othay lingered in the background. Unlike his contemporary, he had no interest in the inner workings of Lore. Also unlike his contemporary, he had nothing to do but examine the artefacts that adorned Sharr’Renn’s hall. Caught in a moment, he looked as though he was about to call Sharr’Renn over to ask about one of the tools that she had on display. He hadn’t succeeded before time froze given that Sharr’Renn was bent over the table, tending to her duties as host, recharging her guest’s cups with fresh tea. As the liquid cascaded into the glass below, the missing piece revealed itself.

Lore was stood in the middle of an ornate office; white marble pillars contrasted against the brassy accents and deep red flooring. A black, stained wood desk waited ahead of them. Flanking them on their left, Timm'Othay, on their right, a figure they couldn’t put a name to. The three of them walked in lockstep until they reached the desk where Lore continued and took a seat behind it. They reached into the third drawer and removed an inkwell. Setting it down on the table, they then reached into their jacket’s pockets and removed a pair of identical fountain pens. They were placed precisely and purposefully, aligned perfectly with the inkwell and an unknown third variable. Again from their jacket pocket, they produced a wooden cylinder. As soon as it touched the table, it unfurled; rolling perfectly towards their two guests, the stage was set. Lore gestured for them to each grab and load their pens. Both acted as though they were in a life or death situation, treating the pens as if they were explosive or poisonous, ready to be thrown at a moment’s notice. With a second nod, they signed. The proceedings complete, Lore turned the document to face them. A glance at the signatures snapped them back to reality.

“Prynn Hardeen!” A pale golden light faded from their eye. “Why aren’t they here?”
“Same reason you aren’t.” Silus chuckled.
Timm'Othay shook his head. “So that’s who your mysterious arbitrator is… A human.”
“A human who fought on the front lines of The Three Year Month.” Silus reminded him. “And last I heard, if it weren’t for that ‘human’, you wouldn’t be here.”
He nodded in admiration. “You make a good point.”
“Sorry, why am I sorting out your peace deal?” Lore shook their head, disagreeing with themselves. “Why are they sorting out your peace deal?” Lore pointed to The First.
“Because I could think objectively.” The First started. “And I was good at negotiating… Must have been, you agreed.”
“That’s because you got me back an entire museum’s worth of artefacts and more. Though I would like to know where you got that from.” Timm'Othay pointed to the object on the wall.
“That was my mother’s.” Sharr’Renn nodded. “She kept it as a reminder of the home she had to give up, the home she hoped to return to. Same story applies to everything in this tent. All things from the past lives of every resident, forced from their homes.”
He steeped in his awkward silence. “I remember your mother. I am sorry she had to leave.” His voice faltered.
“We could have moved to the South wall.” Sharr’Renn spoke coldly. “But that’s neither here nor there. Your tea’s going cold.”
“Sound’s like someone’s not happy.” Char took Silus’ cup from the table and drank from it.
“Perhaps, it’s time for a new deal.” Lore walked over to Char. “One that works for everyone.”
Timm'Othay’s disgruntled look thawed slightly. “I’m sorry... What?”
“When the war is officially over, you, Hardeen and Sharr’Renn will come together and unite Quatarr for the first time in…” Lore looked to Sharr’Renn.
“Since the discovery of Tempora, since the end of the first civil war.” She scowled.
Charrlene looked to The First, as if expecting them to talk but instead, they just nodded.
“That’s not the plan though.” Charrlene whispered at The First; they didn’t react.
“Then the time for change is long overdue.” Lore and Char spoke as one.

Time appeared to have once again, ground to a halt; Quatarrian faces frozen, contorted in confused aggression. Lore scanned the room; although not angry, The First also bore an uncharacteristic expression: Pride. Still under the impression time had stopped, Lore moved towards them only to watch in horror as the eyes they were retreating from followed.
“I’m sorry, you what?” The three Quatarrians spoke as one, stopping them in their tracks.
“Don’t you think Quatarr deserves to be reunited?” Lore addressed Sharr’Renn first. “It’s been far too long since your people have come together” They paused. “Why not change that?”
“Because they’re dangerous.” Silus started.
Timm’Othay nodded. “Despite the colour of your skin, you speak like a true outsider. To allow any of their kind into either of our settlements would mean danger to all that live there.”
Lore thought about it for a moment. “But surely, the Western city’s Tempora levels are low enough for Niwen to safely co-exist?”
Char shook her head. “At the centre of Tarrquu, there’s a beam of pure Tempora. It powers the city and the surrounding villages.”
“How about the… was it the Southern walls?” Lore looked to Sharr’Renn.
Sharr’Renn screwed her face up, bobbing her head from side to side. “It would have been a viable option but only we hadn’t already left. The only way to the South Wall is through the main settlement.”
“And to create a new entrance would jeopardise the quarantine that makes the settlement safe for Niwen.” Timm’Othay looked disappointed. “Before you say it, there’s no way to teleport in either. The South Wall is accessible only by foot.”
“Fine then!” Lore sighed. “We’ll work out a coexistence clause later. First things first, I think there should probably, at least be a conversation between your three groups.”
“Why?” Silus looked around the room. “No offence but things have worked well this far. Why should we be worried about reuniting now?”
Char looked to Lore, then to The First and Charrlene. The First just nodded to Sharr’Renn “I think we should hear from our host first.”
“Thank you.” She nodded to them. “While I appreciate the sentiment, right now at least, reunification is the last thing my people want.”
“What about equality? How about not being treated as second class citizens, aliens on your own planet?” Hazy images, bathed in a blue light, of Crait flashed through their mind; protest signs raised above their head, Lore found themselves crammed into a room, obviously not designed for its current use or occupancy. They fought their way to the front of the silent crowd to return to the present; mouths around them, contorted as if shouting, yet not a sound. The closer they came to the front, the less obnoxious the blue haze that filtered their vision became and the less detailed their surroundings appeared. Even with their vision almost completely blurred over, they recognised the leader of the group. Before they could confirm, white light filled their field of view.
“Lore?” Char fell to the floor to catch them as they followed suit. Lore flinched the moment they touched her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine… I think.” They tapped Char’s shoulder, flashed a smile, then started to rise again. “Where was I?” They muttered to themselves. “Ah! Even if you’re not living together, wouldn’t you appreciate being seen on an equal footing?”
“Of course!” Sharr’Renn snapped. “But no human is going to earn that right for me. My people and I can speak for ourselves!”
“Well said.” Silus nodded. “A faulty clone?” They scoffed.
“A new pair of eyes.” The First stepped closer to Lore. “Well, a new eye. And perhaps the one you needed. I’ve been around a while and I never even knew about your settlement Sharr’Renn. I never knew of your people. Until my ‘faulty clone’ found you. Perhaps they were a little naive but their sentiment I agree with. The war’s over, now is the time to unite Quatarr, make it whole again.”
“You’d be willing to vouch for them?” Timm’Othay looked Lore up and down. He too took a step closer. “Perhaps a hasty judgement from the west.” He did the same to Char. “Certainly too quick to judge.”
“You’d allow them to mediate?” Silus shook their head.
“I never said that.” Timm’Othay went over to the table and retrieved a new cup of tea. “You can respect someone’s drive without necessarily agreeing with them.” He took a drink. “The conversation is over.”
“So you won’t…” Lore started.
“As I’ve said, the topic has passed.” He shot them a condescending smile. “Might I say, this tea is delicious.”
The conversation drifted away from them. Quicker than they expected, the Quatarrians turned their backs on them and joined Timm’Othay in his ramblings of war, homeland and tea. Lore watched on, wanting to interject but knowing that they would only be dismissed; they lacked the seniority and the substance needed to refocus the conversation. They just listened. His palate seemed infinitely refined and able to discern every atom of the tea’s nuance until it eventually just became noise. Lore turned to their allies. Char and Charrlene both shrugged, unsure of whether it was worth taking a next step. The First nodded then tapped their Breacher. The light of them vanishing sparked Lore’s imagination. They unlatched their Breacher and emptied out the two, small Tempora crystals; clutching them tightly to their skin, they pocketted the band before reaching out their hand. Without realising it, their hand magnetised to Char’s. A familiar white glow spread from Lore to Char only to be met and tangled in her golden energy as it whipped and writhed around them, striking at their veins and following their bloodstream; mutating as it mixed, not only with Lore’s own light but something else, it eventually reached their eyes. Electric blue poured from their damaged socket, pale gold came from their good eye. Lore dragged Char across the room and, before she could resist, they grabbed Sharr’Renn’s hand. As soon as the crystals crossed her palms, she saw everything. Memories of the future and memories of things past flooded from them to her in an instant.

They stood together, on the plains of Tarrquu, surrounded by the remnants of war just past only to look up to be greeted by another soon to be present. A net of ships surrounded the planet, encasing the atmosphere at equidistant intervals; then, one by one, they divided. One ship became four as they released their drop pods. The blanket of vessels blotted out the stars and sky until they drew in closer. Four became two, two became one as they reconnected for their final descent. Neon orange plumage shot out from each pod, slowing their fall as they opened and spread, transforming from feathers to mushrooms. They sank into the sand, blanketed by their parachutes. For a moment, they remained inactive. Then, they opened. Scores of Protectorate soldiers marched across the desolated landscape, rifles drawn and combat ready. Lore, Char and Sharr’Renn could only watch. Before them, a perimeter was established around The First City, an action mirrored around the planet as the soldiers drew closer to the entrances to the Eastern settlement. One last ship started its descent. Simplicity’s hull started to glow as it cut through the atmosphere. The shadow it cast further darkened the day as it contracted before stopping. It lingered a kilometre above them. Crait filled the void created by their men. Standing where Lore had done twice, they looked at the city ahead and waited. Two familiar faces joined them with a third, Lore didn’t recognise. They could feel their control slipping as Sharr’Renn’s hand left theirs.

She fell to the floor, crumpling as a stepped on ration can would underfoot; the two shards of Tempora tinkled as they struck the ground. Lore retrieved them, securing them back in their Breacher as Char and Timm’Othay ran to Sharr’Renn’s aid.
“What have you done to her?” He pulled a knife from his boot. Its edge flowed with golden light.
“She’ll be fine.” An alien voice came from Lore and Char’s mouths. Silus recognised it at once and too fell to the floor but in reverence. “Her condition will pass.” The lights faded, Lore and Char separated.
The glimmering edge of Timm’Ottay’s knife dulled as his light withdrew and the metal resurfaced.
Sharr’Renn slowly opened her eyes before tightly screwing them up and blinking. With a sigh, she managed to keep them open. “Why are you all crowding around me?” She shook her head. “I am fine.” She exchanged a subtle glance with Lore.
“We’ll meet again.” Lore nodded, holding their hand out to Char. They smacked their Breacher until its interface activated and then, reluctantly, they vanished in a flash of white.