Disarray

Sound. The fallen doors wailed as they fell against the floor roaring their last on contact. Flashes of light erupted through the newly opened entryways eclipsed by the platoon of soldiers pouring into the already cramped storage room. Filling the space like water in a barrel, Lore was too overwhelmed to notice their weapons. The initial felling of the doors had been enough to set their ears ringing but with the added flashes and the sheer number of people in the small space had them at full alert, senses set to twelve. Lore was restraining themselves, daggers down their spine but they couldn’t give in; even at their weakest, they knew they couldn’t show it. Making things harder was the incessant slow clapping coming from the hallway.
“You know, I really thought this time would be different. You even arrived early, all that effort for nothing.” The voice tutted as it entered the room. It was then the voices owner caught up. Crait. “But you always come here, you always gather that stupid ring and you always ask about his son’s awards… He has never had a son. None of the timelines. NONE OF THEM! EVER!... You couldn’t have chosen a less conspicuous pass phrase?” They paused, genuinely angered, “Food for thought.” With that, the soldiers filling the room took aim. Crait gave a slight nod. A short, high frequency tone screeched through the room; a burst of purple light, the smell of ozone; half a scream. And it was over. Now beside them a pile of smouldering ashes, Brian was no more.
“I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve done that and most of the different ways too but each time… still satisfying.” They smiled, crouching beside Lore. “You know what, from here, I know where the story ends and I could spoil it for you but you know what? Lets make things interesting, write our own stories.” They stood and removed their pistol from its holster. “I know these aren’t quite your thing but…” They gestured for Lore to take it. “There’s enough battery left for ten bolts.” They paused, biting their tongue. “And just to really make this fun, you’ve got to the count of ten before every armed officer in this building is told the truth. Imagine that, ten seconds.” They tapped their Breacher.
The countdown began.

Lore shoved the sidearm into their bag and ran. Despite their limited memory, they knew that they had never run so fast before. Their bare feet slapped against the unyielding floor as they barrelled through the building. They were still within earshot of Crait and were half way through their time limit. Finding their way to one of the floors edges realisation set in. They were a couple hundred metres in the air with nothing but unforgiving concrete to cushion their fall. Two seconds remained as they reached the lift. They requested the ground floor and used their first shot to destroy the controls. They didn’t know why but they felt it was the right thing to do.
“I’m dead the moment those doors open. Options.” They whispered as they frantically tried to dress themselves. The initial assault and rapid retreat had taken its toll, Lore’s senses were in overdrive, their heart beat blasted through their veins. They were still heading down so Crait hadn’t stopped the lifts but they didn’t know how long they could last like this. “Deep breath. Come on Lore.” They began to slowly exhale as the doors began to open. There was barely a centimetre between them as the first bolts of brilliant purple made their way into the lift carriage. The doors continued to open but they were lethargic in their actions. Coincidentally, so were the bolts. Lore sidled closer to doors and apprehensively peered between them. It wasn’t just the doors and the bolts taking their jobs less seriously, the soldiers and frantically scrambling employees seemed to be effected. Lore was about to open their mouth to question their circumstances but thought otherwise. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, they smiled and ran. While helpful at first, time taking its time was beginning to become old. Although they were at lower risk of death, they also couldn’t escape. Every exit was essentially locked and guarded by an automatic sensor which, due to Lore’s reduced stature and temporal situation, was off duty. One shot down, nine left. Lore removed Crait’s sidearm and took aim at the glass pane door before realising the obvious and smashing the glass with the disrupters butt. The glass shattered instantly, acting as an alarm clock for time itself. The shards had barely hit the floor when the bolts began to fly. Lore joined them and fled.

They hadn’t a clue where they were, they just knew they didn’t want to be there. They ran in random directions until they were confident they had lost their tail. Freedom, for now. Lore stopped in a side street’s back alley to reconstitute themselves. The only person they had somewhat trusted had set a building full of soldiers on them and the other person they considered somewhat helpful, dead. Finally alone, they let the tension out, their neck violently shook from its initial central point to the right and back over and over again. Their breathing was heavy, their limbs weak and their vision almost completely blacked over. They slumped to the floor but as they fell they felt a warmth grab them from behind, knocking the wind back into their sails.
“Hello stranger.” She said lifting the revitalised Lore from their position near the floor. She planted a kiss on their cheek. “You need to shave.” Lore spun swiftly so as to see the speaker. She smiled. Lore recoiled, recognising both the face and voice.
“It’s you.” Lore stepped closer, still clutching the sidearm within their bag. “You’re real.”
“Of course I am. You look like hell, where have you been?” She reached for her pocket. “How old are you.” She read from a crumpled post it note.
“I’m twenty.” They answered, confused. The woman sighed.
“Guess it’s my turn then.” The woman returned the note to her pocket and with it her hopes. Memories.