1:5:6 Agreements (Part 6)

Timm’Ottay hadn’t looked at them since they arrived, his gaze respectfully but at times, awkwardly averted; the other Quatarrian returned to their seat silently.
“I apologise. We haven’t been introduced.” The Quatarrian gestured for Lore and Char to take a seat.
“You’re Prynn Hardeen.” Lore smiled, holding out their left hand for Hardeen to shake.
She took it but wasn’t sure what to do next. “Yes. I am Gretzina Hardeen. Prynn of The Western Quatarr.”
“Lore. And this is my partner, Char.” Lore sat. Infinite permutations of their next words ran through their mind. A few potential ideas eventually reached the tip of their tongue. “We understand you’ve been visited by The Protectorate.” They paused. “We’re here to offer you an alternative.”
“We have been approached by another of your kind and yes, their offer was… Sub optimal… But why should we listen to you over them?” Hardeen’s tone held an air of superiority greater than any Quatarrian Lore or Char had yet met.
Timm’Ottay’s eyes widened. “Are you quite within your own mind? You saw them. They entered your office by a hitherto unused lift that, to the best of our entire species knowledge, can only be accessed by a Paragon of Time. I say speak.”
“That is your prerogative.” Hardeen reluctantly opened the floor to them.
It took a minute for anyone to speak, Lore looked to Char. She nodded for them to start. “We don’t know exactly what Crait offered you but we do know what will happen when you don’t accept their offer. Crait wants Quatarr. They don’t care about the people, they just want the Tempora and they’ll do anything for it.”
“And how do you know this?” Hardeen looked as though she already knew the answer.
“The Lore who negotiated your peace, the Lore that fought in The Three Year Month, they were sent to ensure you destroyed one another; that was their original purpose for coming to Quatarr.” Lore was about to continue but found their speech truncated.
“I knew it! It seemed too good to be true that a lowly human organisation would come to our aid without wanting something in return.” Hardeen spat.
Lore shook their head. “Those were their orders. But they didn’t follow them, did they? They couldn’t.”
“They fought for three years. I was there a month. Can’t say the same of you.” Timm’Ottay shook Lore’s hand. “I know it wasn’t you there but I do need to thank you.”
“We’ve got a plan.” Char tried to breach the hostilities. “A way to save Quatarr because when Crait leaves next time, there’ll be next to nothing left.”
“What’s your proposal then?” Timm’Ottay swiped Hardeen’s line. His delivery was much more attentive than hers would have been. Lore heard both.
“This is going to be hard for you to hear but…” Char started. “We are the twenty-sixth pair of Lores and Chars produced. Twenty-six versions of us all working on the same problem: Saving Quatarr.”
The leader’s eyes widened to an almost impossible extent. “Such co-operation is sure to lead to a paradox.”
“It’s incredibly risky behaviour.” Hardeen crossed her arms.
“It was the only way.” Char continued. “The plan was ordained by Time itself; we were to come together and save Quatarr by any means necessary. It’s taken a while but they’ve worked it out.”
“We’re going to make a swap.” Lore took over. “While they’ve not yet been able to fully test their equipment, we’re confident that we can make the plan work.”
“What plan?” Hardeen interjected.
“I think they were trying to get to it.” Timm’Ottay held up his hand, allowing Lore to continue.
“Thank you.” Lore nodded. “We intend to plant tethers on Quatarr in both our time and yours; once charged, we will use them to create a Breach above both planets. This will allow an energy tether to develop and both planets will be catapulted into the Breach where the tether’s tension will force them together.”
“We’ll cut the lines just as they meet and the gravity and kinetic energy will send them flying out of the opposite ends of the Breach. Present will become past and past, present.” Char mimicked the event with her hands. Her two fists attracted to one another before being fired in opposite directions.
“Assuming everything goes to plan, Quatarr will be able to return to the universe with no issues…” Lore took a breath.
Hardeen took her chance. “No issues for you. I’m guessing humanity will still be free to rape and exploit our world while we get dragged into a future alone.” She shook her head. “So our options are take our chances here against your people or accept your help and risk everything in a paradoxical mess.”
“Although I don’t appreciate her tone.” Timm’Ottay started. “I do share some of The Prynn’s concerns. Surely it would make more sense for you to just prevent humanity’s attack in our present… Unless it’s the catalyst that brought you here…” He sighed. “Of course. Without the attack, and with the paradox, time would collapse and even Time wouldn’t be able to save us.”
Lore nodded. “We would, of course, provide aftercare of sorts. We wouldn’t leave Quatarr alone. There are many species that have been affected and I’m sure most would be excited to see Quatarr back in the stars.” Lore looked down solemnly. “The Protectorate has an awful reputation of senseless colonisation and enslavement that will take longer to heal but with Quatarr’s help, we may be able to undo some of the damages caused.”
“So what are you offering us?” Timm’Ottay asked.
“We will save Quatarr, bringing it back to the present. In return, we will help you, from behind the scenes, to rebuild your empire.” The figure returned to the corner of their eye. “Sorry, can anyone else see that?”
“Don’t try to distract the issue!” Hardeen snapped to her feet. “Your offer is to drag us to your present then ally us with your enemies?”
“I’m afraid our enemies are your former allies. In their current state, they are slaves to humanity.” Lore shook their head. The figure came closer.
Timm’Ottay tried to settle Hardeen. “They are offering to not only end their people’s slavery but also turn a large portion of the galaxy against themselves for our gain. I would call that a deal of a life time.”
“What humanity has done to them is inexcusable but unfortunately, there isn’t a way to undo it entirely so we’re just going to have to deal with the fallout.” Lore closed their eyes. They tried to focus again on the figure and were able to just about make out some of the details of the figure. Obscured by the blinding white, Quatarrian robes.
“I’m sorry, can your primitive mind not remain focussed? Do you require a recess?” Hardeen moved to click her fingers in Lore’s face. Without looking, they caught her hand. “Unhand me! You may have some prestige but you’re still a…”
“Silence yourself before you say something we both regret.” Timm’Ottay took Hardeen’s hand from Lore and returned it to her. “Your prejudice aside, as asinine as it is, I trust Lore and their proposal. The Quatarrii stand with you.”
“It’s more of an all or nothing situation… But the sentiment is appreciated.” Char stared daggers at Hardeen.
The room filled with a white light, it flooded every crevice and corner as the figure that had stalked Lore and Char became material. “You also have my support.”
“Sharr’Renn!” She had the entire room’s attention and while she was no longer blinding them, she remained transparent.
“So these are the walls of the west. Impressive.” Sharr’Renn’s voice was soft and distant. “I have never seen them in person, only in visions. It is a shame that those they protect are blind to the world beyond them.”
“Who are you to judge?” Hardeen rose from her chair.
“I am Sharr’Renn of Crwydisch. Leader of the Niwen.” She smirked. “I have worked with your people a great many times but your name has never come up.”
Timm’Ottay stared at Sharr’Renn in disbelief. His eyes widened as he looked between her and Hardeen.
“Regardless, Sha’tara speaks the truth.” Sharr’Renn started. “My people have gazed into all of the possible futures stemming from this moment and we have seen death in all but one of them; only by joining them, following them, can we avoid the extinction of everything.”
“So, in addition to believing that Time chose a human to be our saviour, I am also to believe the rantings of a crackpot hole dweller Niwtraine?” Hardeen’s tirade raised eyebrows. They dropped almost as suddenly as Timm’Ottay’s fist as it crossed her face.
“I cannot believe you.” He shook his head, his breathing heavy as he seethed. “Actually, I can.” He removed a small handkerchief and handed it to Hardeen; a glimmer of golden light had already sealed the wound. “The war is over so maybe it’s time to look for some new leadership in The First City.”
“Who are you to presume?” She dabbed away the blood from the corner of her mouth. Hardeen opened her mouth to speak again but found herself cut off, her golden skin heated to cherry red.
“I have been the leader of the Quatarrii since our migration underground and my people have maintained confidence in my abilities to rule. I cannot say the same of you and yours.” Timm’Ottay bellowed. “If you think yourself worthy of continued rule then a vote should be of no consequence.”
“How long would you need for such a vote?” Lore looked to their Breacher. “It’s cutting things rather close.”
“With the opposition poised and ready as they are, they should need no longer than a day.” Timm’Ottay’s sentiment set ill Hardeen’s mind. “Her replacement is much more likely to agree with you regardless of where they stand politically.”
“Why not vote on whether or not to go through with our plan? If the majority of the planet agrees, we go ahead.” Char asked. “As much as I am all for the replacement of inadequate leaders, is it really the best time?”
“A second vote could always be held if all goes to plan.” Lore added.
“A novel idea from the outsider.” Hardeen crossed her arms.
“As the voice of The East, we are with you.” Timm’Ottay nodded.
“As the representative for those who remain of Crwydisch, you have our support also.” Sharr’Renn bowed her head.
Hardeen sat up in her chair, making herself look taller. “And you will have our response by this time tomorrow.” She then stood and gestured for her other guests to leave.
“Then we shall reconvene here, at this hour tomorrow.” Sharr’Renn’s white glow started shifting to blue before she vanished.
“See you then.” Timm’Ottay was about to use his teleporter. “Need a lift?”
“Yours works here?” Char and Lore looked at him, puzzled.
“Of course. But only for short hops.” He held out his hand.
They both took hold. The transition between days was seamless. Hardeen remained in her seat and the expression of defeat remained on her face however, the glimmer of hope that once resided in her eyes had vacated.
“You have the support of my people. I am no longer their voice but their collective is yours.” Hardeen spoke quietly, her voice was free of spite, saturated only in sadness.
“Then we should start getting ready then.” Lore nodded. They turned to Char then to the way they had entered; the wall had returned. “Ah, how do we get out of here?”
Timm’Ottay held out his hand to Lore. Apprehensively, Lore took it. He pulled them closer and lifted their sleeve. “Ah. Still got the older model I see…” He bobbed his head side to side. “If it were one of the more current models, I would tell you to look for the stairs but they really didn’t care for user safety when they made these.” Lore’s eyes widened. “Nothing to worry about, just means that there’s no software limiting where you can and can’t go. You should be safe to Breach from here but, if I were you, I would Breach to somewhere outside Tarr’Zendwr then go home from there.” He nodded. “Much better and saves you from any potential side effects that monolith might have.” He pointed to the Tempora lift. “It’s supposed to be inert by now but you can never be too safe.”
“Well, thank you.” Lore gently reclaimed their arm. “Have you got the co-ordinates? I’ve got a set for the plains outside of the city.”
“That should suffice. As long as you stay in this time zone, you should not face any side effects.” Hardeen sighed. “I suppose, on the behalf of the Western Quatarrians, wish you well. May Time forever be at your side.”
“And at yours.” Char ducked her head respectfully before taking Lore’s hand. “Ready?”
“Ready.” They tapped their Breacher.