Helping the man to his feet, the woman examined his wounds, as he glanced at hers. Their gazes meeting, the two smiled. Suddenly, the silence of the empty club was broken, as the very last of the rebels ran through the front door, a storm of lasers following behind them. Taking cover, they prepared to make their final stand against the soldiers surrounding the building. The man looked down at them for a moment, before scanning the rest of the club. His eyes soon fell upon a display in the center of the second floor; near a massive piece of modern art that sloped towards the skylights, there was an antique nuclear cell motorcycle, one of the first of it’s kind, encased in glass. As he gazed at it, the IME soldiers began to storm into the building, deflecting the rebel’s shots with reflector shields and firing back with submachine guns.

The man broke free from the woman’s grip, and leaned against the railing, pointing his pistol at the soldiers with a shaky hand. The woman lifted her gun as well, however the man quickly pushed it to the side with his free hand, shaking his head. As the woman looked at him questioningly, he nodded towards the motorcycle. The woman shook her head, unwilling to leave him behind, however he refused to relent, staring into her eyes with an uncharacteristic seriousness. Reaching into his coat pocket, he retrieved his good luck CD, which had once again miraculously survived a gunfight without being melted, and handed it towards her. She looked into his eyes, speaking volumes in silence. The man thrust the CD further forward, forcing it into his lover’s unsure grip, before turning to fire on the soldiers. The woman looked down for a moment, lost in thought. As a stray laser shot past her head, she snapped back to reality, and placed the CD in her pocket. Without looking back, she made her way to the display and kicked the untempered glass until it shattered. The man continued to fire at the soldiers as they finished off the rebels and made their way towards the staircase, ignoring their return fire as multiple lasers cut through him.

Without the keys, the woman had to cut open a part of the bike with her laser pocket knife, fiddling with the wiring until she triggered the nuclear cell. As the motorcycle powered on, the woman summoned up a weak smile; part of her was expecting it to be just a display, and not in operable condition. In fact, part of her was hoping for it. Regardless, she mounted the motorcycle and revved it up, turning it around just as the soldiers reached the second floor. The man, already gravely wounded, lifted his pistol and stumbled towards the soldiers with the last of his strength, trying desperately to draw their fire. He was successful, and the soldiers tore him to pieces with their laserfire as the woman sped unassailed across the second floor.

Reaching the massive piece of modern art, she increased her speed and raced forward, riding up the large artistic curve as though it were a ramp. As she reached the top, she and her motorcycle continued upward as they sailed through the air, until they had smashed through the skylights. A cloud of broken glass surrounding her, the woman continued on her ascent, until gravity finally forced her down. Gripping her motorcycle tightly, she finally landed on the street outside of the bar, the motorcycle’s aged but still effective ultra-shocks letting out jets of steam as they absorbed the tremendous impact. The soldiers guarding the perimeter immediately opened fire on her. Her brain still spinning in her skull, the woman summoned up all of her concentration and coordination, and accelerated forward, trying desperately not to crash. Picking up speed, she had soon escaped from the scene, and continued down the road.

Before she had gotten far, however, the woman soon spotted a roadblock up ahead. Stopping, she turned her motorcycle around and prepared to race back along the road behind her. However, just as she had begun to move forward, she stopped once again. Up ahead, she could see a dazzling array of flashing lights, as the soldiers she had escaped from rapidly gained on her. Laughing, the woman relaxed her grip on the handlebars and sat there for a moment, letting her gaze fall to the asphalt beneath her. The rising sun had cast a warm orange light upon it. In that moment, the road spoke to her, inviting her towards her destiny, and she felt her eyes begin to well, though not with sadness. Clearing her nose, she looked up at the lights once more, before turning her motorcycle towards the roadblock. Briefly glancing down at the motorcycle, she noticed a series of slots and nodes. Smiling once again, she realized that the bike she was riding had, many years ago, belonged to a music lover like her. Pulling out her lover’s lucky CD, she retrieved it from it’s case, and popped it into one of the slots. The CD player, though old, was still of super-fidelity quality, with a strong laser and enough anti-skipping hardware to play even through the bumpiest of rides.

As the music started, the woman revved the engine, and raced forward down the road. Approaching the roadblock, she could see the soldiers frantically running about, shouting and receiving orders as they prepared to fire upon her. Ignoring them, the woman closed her eyes, and increased her speed. The motorcycle beneath her shaking with each pulsing note, she felt the music as it seized control of her. The smell of burning rubber hanging heavily on the air, and her heart singing along to the music, she felt a searing pain as a cloud of burning needles of light cut through her effortlessly. However, the pain was soon replaced by a cold and dull feeling that clung to her like a dress soaked in water. Feeling her hands fall away from the handlebars, the music became muddy and distorted, before finally coming to an end, fading away like a dream scattering before waking eyes.