Myitt grins at Kara. "You know, Ardiss is nuttier than a fruitcake," she says thoughtfully. "But it might actually work. As long as z-space doesn't shift again. Otherwise...you ever see Farscape?"
<I hate that show,> her host murmurs.
<I don't want to be that show, thanks.>
"Anyway," Myitt continues, "I'll run the coordinates and see how long we need to stay in this dimension for your crazy plan to actually work." She begins to run a diagnostic to shift the point of exit. "It's going to be a matter of seconds, I can tell you that." She smiles to herself, tapping at the hovering controls. "At least you've got Mar on your side. What do you think, Temrash? I think we can pull it off."
---
Corliss laughs, overhearing Gaz's conversation with Morgan. "Yeah, it's a great bar, gets us all skint and pissed and if you're really lucky, it gets you killed. Tell him to join us, we'll need him. He has to be quick, though, we can't be too far off by now."
---
Reven and Gerard follow the empty, rock-lined corridors meshed with titanium alloy plating, their boots clanking along the metal flooring. The hall opens into a wide, tall docking bay, a few remnant stalagmites jutting from the ground around what now comprises a very large and mostly gravel-free landing floor. Metallic docks have been erected along the sides, all empty with the exception of a few remaining hover transporters, a couple of Skrit Na ships and an out-of-place Caterpillar.
Dim overhead lights, on auxiliary power, are all that light the cavern far ahead. Two circular ingresses, black against black, sits at the apex of the ceiling for ships to enter and exit. It's an odd mixture of futuristic sci-fi and the Mines of Moria.
"We'd better get the hell out of here," Gerard says, his voice echoing hollowly in the empty chamber.
Reven looks up from his computer display. "Six minutes and counting," he says grimly. "Come on." He leads Gerard to the two Skrit Na shuttles, much smaller than their usual flamboyant saucers. "You take that one."
"We can fit in one," Gerard protests. "There's a co-pilot seat."
"Yes, but two targets, however small, will make for more confusing prey than one," says Reven firmly, climbing into his own Skrit Na pod.
"But I don't remember how to fly this thing!" Gerard yells as the ****pit seals around him.
"You can set it on autopilot to the failsafe point," Reven says over their ship's intercom system, powering the engines up.
Gerard just looks petrified.
Reven smiles. "Don't worry. We'll meet you on the other side, okay, soldier?"
Gerard nods quickly. "I'm holding you to it," he snaps.
,
"WARNING...SELF-DESTRUCT AT FIVE MINUTES," Reven's computer warned.
The two Skrit Na pod ships, armed with no real weapons, fly up through the empty expanse of the docking bay, out through one of the automatic dome ingresses, up through the darkness. Rings of light periodically flash by them as they ascend, before the starry sky opens above them and they zoom out through the thin and inhospitable atmosphere of their moon, into space.
---
Meanwhile, back at the Space Bar, a young man no older than 13 wanders in to the bar. He is pale and dressed in black, like an Amish farmer or a preacher, with a wide brimmed black hat. His gaze is as cold as his icy blue eyes.
He says nothing to anyone, sitting down at the bar and folding his hands.
