1:5:9 Duel (Part 2)

The crowd started to get riled up. Half shouting Crait’s praises the other cheering for Lore. The noise rang in their ears, distorting their vision. Three Craits stood waiting for them. Lore took a deep breath; they took their Sonics from their pocket and buried them in their ears. The crowd died down and three became one. Lore entered the arena properly. Crait flourished their coat, revealing their weapon of choice.
“I’ll tell you something, of all the species in the universe that have and will ever have existed, none of them managed to master weaponry like the Faochite.” They removed their hilt from their belt. “A marvel of engineering. Organic technology controllable with a thought. Brilliant.” A scimitar blade manifested from the hilt. “Whatever I want, whatever I need, as long as I can imagine it, it’s mine.” The scimitar melted and the hilt extended. It stopped when it was about as long as Lore’s staff. “In a perfect world, yes but… It’s not me.” The weapon changed again, finalising on Crait’s chosen starting form: A rapier. The thin foil extended from the hilt, a guard formed at its base; closing one eye, Crait held their weapon ahead of them. It readjusted itself to better match their expectations. The hilt developed a curve and, after a few swings, Crait signalled they were ready.
Lore withdrew their staff from its holster. They flicked the pin and let go. It unfurled before them, extending to its fullest; they caught it before it hit the floor, locked it in its open position then likewise signalled their readiness. Crait lowered themselves before taking the first attack. It looked more like a controlled stumble than a serious attempt at engaging their enemy as Crait opened with a flèche. Lore whipped their staff around themselves, allowing the attack to glance off of it. They deflected Crait before pushing them with the tip of their staff. Crait whipped their blade about and launched from their back foot. They used their speed to unleash a flurry of attacks, most of which failed to land; the majority of those that did, merely glanced off of Lore’s armour bar one. Their second to last attack, Lore deflected upwards, sliding the blade up their shoulder pad. Without thinking, Crait thrust forward striking a glancing blow under Lore’s glasses, cutting from the edge of their scarred eye, across the top of their cheekbone and terminating just before hitting their ear. Crait flicked their blade up to finish the stroke, sending Lore’s glasses flying into the sands behind them.
A sense of unease and guilt instantly flooded Crait’s face as they withdrew their weapon and scrambled to grab Lore’s glasses for them. “Can’t be fighting you at a disadvantage now, can I?”
“No… We couldn’t be having that…” Lore laid the sarcasm on heavy. “Thanks.”
Crait’s weapon reformed; the blade was much thicker and shorter this time, taking on the appearance of a scramasax. With the change in weapon, their fight style changed too. The fast and numerous swipes and thrusts were replaced with heavy and brutal swinging attacks which quickly became an issue for Lore’s defence. Realising they could only maintain their defence for so long, Lore changed their tactics, focussing more on movement and avoiding Crait’s devastating blows rather than blocking them. Crait didn’t relent, ramping up their attacks, almost matching what they were able to achieve with their rapier. Lore rolled away, tucking their staff under their breastplate. Crait tried to time their next attack for when Lore got back up however neglected to keep their eye on Lore’s weapon. Quite by accident, Crait found themselves joining Lore on the floor. They got back onto their feet at the same time. Crait’s sword changed again, the blade thinned and gained a hook at its tip which they used to latch onto Lore’s staff. Levering that, they pulled themselves closer to Lore. Their sword changed again as they did, forming into a katar, ready for the closer quarter fighting. Crait punched forward, severing Lore’s shoulder guard at its strap. They swung their arm down, similarly removing Lore’s arm guards. Lore hooked their staff around and through Crait’s katar, lodging their staff between the blade and the grip. They pulled Crait in closer.
There was a smile on Crait’s face as they pulled in even closer. “Allow me to kiss it better.” Their lips burnt as they pressed against Lore’s wound. The katar melted and was replaced with a chakram which Crait smacked into Lore’s breast before pulling away from them. They licked their bloodied lips with a smile, their breathing ragged. Lore wasn’t much better off.
Loren entered the ring, much to Crait’s chagrin. “Call that round one over.” He shouted. Crait waited until Lore nodded before they too agreed. Both parties returned to their partners on opposite sides of the arena.
“You’re doing better than I thought…” Char sighed. “I still think this whole thing is a stupid and ridiculously boisterous display of ego.”
“Oi! I am anything but boisterous.” Lore laugh-coughed at their own joke.
“Sorry, forgot. Not a boy…” She chuckled. “Now, you need to get your head in the game because they’re going to destroy you. They’re playing with you at the moment but I don’t like the look in their eyes…” Char gestured to Crait as Loren wiped what remained of Lore’s blood off of their lips. “Finish them quickly, no showboating and no messing about. Fast and clean.” She dabbed at Lore’s wound. “I don’t want you getting hurt… More hurt…”
“Fast and clean. Got you.” Lore nodded before returning to the ring.
Crait joined them. They bumped their chakram to Lore’s staff. They put a respectable distance between them before resuming the fight. Crait’s weapon metamorphosed once again; Lore barely had time to react as the metal dart pierced their shoulder. Time slowed as the blade made its way through their jacket. It was about a millimetre into their shoulder when they first noticed it and, while its progress had been slowed, it hadn’t been stopped entirely. Lore moved to pull the dagger and prevent any further damage; as soon as the blade was withdrawn, time returned to its normal pace, and the dagger returned to its owner. Lore flew across the battlefield to Crait’s waiting hands. Lore’s grip failed as Crait reshaped their weapon. The sands below had been hardened by a month of intense combat so did little to cushion Lore’s fall. They got back onto their feet but were almost immediately taken off of them; Crait’s weapon’s versatility seemingly knew no bounds as now they sported a nine bladed sword whip. Each lashing staggered and slit Lore while also proving so unpredictable that they found it difficult to counter. Though the wounds it was inflicting were superficial, they were starting to add up. When they finally managed to get themselves out of Crait’s range, Lore noticed the extent of Crait’s attack; their trousers had been cut to ribboned shorts, their leatherette jacket stained red. Lore took a laboured breath. Crait prepared their final weapon.

Pain. Lore’s mind was aflame. The pain was slowing them significantly and the feeling of blood against their skin was beginning to get to them.
“What can I do?” They said to themselves. “I’ve brought a bloody stick to a sword fight… and I don’t really know how to even use the thing.”
“I need to think fourth dimensionally.” Lore spoke without speaking.
“I can’t keep on the defence.” Lore winced as they examined their shoulder. “But to attack would be suicidal.”
“I need to think fourth dimensionally.” Lore spoke once again without speaking.
“It’s almost as if they know exactly what I’m going to do.” Lore scratched their head. “Well, they did train with a version of me and they do know almost everything about all of the other versions too.”
“I need to think fourth dimensionally.” Lore’s unspoken words figuratively slapped them across the face.
“Hold on.” A glimmer caught their wounded eye. “They don’t have a clue what I’m going to do, they’re just good at reading my attacks.” They paused. “I need to think fourth dimensionally!” The words echoed backwards in time. “If I could just see exactly where they’re going to be, I wouldn’t have to keep guessing myself. I could avoid attacks before they’ve even thought of making them.” Lore stabbed their staff into the ground and removed their Sonics. There was no sound. “Oh…” They looked around them. “Oh…” They wandered behind the frozen Crait. They reached out to tap their shoulder. As their hand made contact, two wireframe Crait’s sprang from them, initiating their attack.

Crait lunged at Lore’s lone staff. Lore watched as their three adversaries re-examined their situation. One of the projections turned to face Lore while the real Crait and the second projection grabbed Lore’s staff. The incorrect projection was eliminated while the other threw the staff as though it were a javelin. Lore dodged it effortlessly when the attack was actually initiated and managed to recover their staff before it sailed into the crowd. Without turning, they saw Crait’s next attack and parried it effortlessly affording them an opportunity to counter. Lore swiped at them, forcing Crait to back-pedal. Lore staked their staff once again and tore a section of their trouser leg free. Much to Crait’s surprise, they fashioned it into an eyepatch and covered their uninjured eye. Their vision expanded significantly. They could still see Crait and the battlefield around them but now, they weren’t burdened by the crowd that had once distracted them.
“Bold choice… Blinding yourself…” Crait and everyone else in the arena shared the same look of confusion.
Lore was about to retort when a blinding, electric blue light started to glow behind them. They turned to face it and knew almost at once what it was: The exit Breach. They roughly calculated the time before their exiting of null space and used it to form a plan.
“Well… You know what they say… Fortune favours the bold.” Lore struggled with the banter.
“Y… Yes… I’m sure they do say that but… Not to blind people who are fighting to the death…” Crait laughed. “Seriously though, you expect me to continue to fight you like that?”
Lore threw their staff, making sure to only clip Crait’s ear. “Come and have a go…” They gestured for Crait to continue.
“Oh… Any ethical qualms I had are now gone.” They smiled as they charged at Lore, gladius in hand.
Lore knew what was going to happen next so prepared accordingly. They rooted themselves, planting their feet as solidly into the ground as they could. They watched as a white aura spread from their soles and over their toes before stopping at their ankles, freezing their feet in the present. Crait was about a metre away from them when Lore’s gamble paid out. The jolt of Quatarr leaving null space and exiting the Breach was enough to knock Crait off of their feet; instinctively, they dropped their sword to allow themselves to break their fall. Lore had positioned themselves in just the right place to allow them to catch the blade as it fell. It bit into their hand as they clasped onto it. Stupidly, they forgot to release their grasp before drawing the blade for themselves. The gladius drank their blood as Lore swapped it from their left to right hand. They gave it a flourish and, by the end of the action, they had their staff back in their hand. The quaking over, Lore unfroze their feet and used their newly formed staff to knock Crait back to the ground.
“Go on then” Crait coughed. “Kill me!” They rose from the ground to a kneeling position on all fours at Lore’s feet.
Lore raised the staff overhead. The pole flattened out, forming into a nearly two metre long blade. They took a deep breath in before bringing the sword down on Crait’s neck. Just as it was about to make contact, it appeared to curve around their neck, transforming from zweihander to khopesh; the tip embedded itself in the sand by Crait’s hand.
“No.” Lore shook their head. “No. I won’t kill you.” They beckoned the nearest clone over to them. Though they exchanged no words, only a nod was needed to convey their needs. Lore took the cuffs from the clone and pinned Crait’s hand behind their back. “You’re going to be held accountable for your crimes and then, you’ll likely spend the rest of your life in prison with the rest of your Inquisition.”
Crait looked up at them and smiled. “Then… Champion… If that’s your request, so…”
Lore cut them off mid sentence. “Oh. Sorry, no.” They chuckled. “What a waste that would be. No. As per your blank cheque that you wrote for me, my champion’s request is to take your place at the head of The Temporal Sciences Guild.”
An audible gasp circled them. Crait looked as though they were torn between pride and confusion. They struggled to their feet. “You’ll have to reach into my pocket then.” Crait shimmied their hips, thrusting the right side of their body towards Lore.
Lore slowly reached into the pocket. They withdrew a familiar leather wallet. Opening it up, they saw their reflection; almost. The picture that stared back at them looked as though it had been taken when they had first met Crait. It looked as tired as they felt and, looking back at themselves, Lore realised that this was the first time they had seen their reflection in a while. Looking at an image of themselves without their glasses or missing eye looked somewhat strange but, given their limited frame of reference, they weren’t sure why. Moving away from the picture, they looked at the rest of the identification card.
“Lore. Commander of the Fifty-Second Inquisitoriam.” They read.
“Funny… That’s the exact wallet I offered you before you ran. Seems that either way, you’re taking it.” Crait stepped back. They tried to lower themselves to the floor in a dignified manner but they lost balance. Eventually, they knelt at Lore’s feet. “Commander.”
Every guild weapon fell to their owner’s side as their hands raced to their temples; a circle of salutes. Lore looked at the forces gathered around them. They felt like they had to acknowledge them but they didn’t know how. Char rushed to their side and suddenly, the worry was gone. “Guild members. Lay down your arms. Like Crait, you will be subject to trial and appropriate treatment afterwards. I promise that whatever happens next will be as fair as it can possibly be.” They nodded. Every clone turned to their corresponding Guild officers who removed their cuffs only for the clone to exchange them; with all of the Guild members incarcerated, Lore had the clones line them up, ready for transportation. “The First was the only one with access to The Razor’s systems weren’t they?”
“Didn’t they give them to you?” Char looked to Lore, confused.
Lore gasped. “Yes. They did… But I don’t have a communicator.” One landed at their feet.
“There you go.” Magpie called over. “Keep it.” He waved a newly pilfered Guild communicator.
“Thanks.” Lore called over before bringing the communicator to their mouth. “Lore to Razor, we need picking up, open the main hangar bay then prepare for a long journey to Earth.”
“On my way.” Brian’s voice came from the other side.
“That wouldn’t be who I think that is?” Crait nodded at the communicator. “You didn’t clone Brian did you?”
Lore shook their head. “No. He just survived you killing him… Somehow…” Lore scratched their head. “He never actually explained how did he?” Char shook her head. “Something to ask about.”

It didn’t take long but it was extremely reassuring to see The Razor descend. They loaded their prisoners and left them under the watchful eyes of their clones. Lore and Char raced to the bridge.
Brian stood and smiled. “She’s all yours sir. Where’s everyone else?”
“The clones are in the hangar.” Lore pointed to the camera.
Char realised who he meant. “The other Lores and Chars are gone.” She shrugged. “We’ve got no clue where though.”
“Right…” Brian sat back down. “Earth then?”
Lore nodded. “We’ve got a mess to start cleaning up.” They avoided The First’s seat and sat beside Brian. Char came and stood behind them, her hands on Lore’s shoulders. Together, they watched as they departed and the planet became little more than an orange marble in the vast ocean of stars. “How long is it going to take to get us there?”
“The Razor’s built for transporting ships and troops not speed. At our top speed, we’re about a week from our solar system… But we’ll be within communications range in a couple of days or so.” Brian showed their proposed flight path.
“I guess that means we can get started as soon as possible then.” Lore smiled.
“Or we could take a breather. Even if it’s just a day or so.” Char ducked to their level. “You deserve… We deserve a moment to ourselves. To work out what we do next without everyone else.” Lores.