Meanwhile in the pirate armoury...

<snip>
Mhcjohn tried to speka, but was busy gibbering with electrical
overload...
</snip>
After a minute or two of sputtering, McJohn finally gasped out some
choice invective at Phil, who was looking out a porthole in the hull.
"So, genius, what now?" McJohn demanded.
Phil told him not to speak to his superiors like that.
"Look," McJohn said flatly, "I'm full of enough smegging electrons to
power the Las Vegas strip, either stuff it or I'll fry you."
"Fair enough," Phil responded.
"Now, how to we get this thing back to the Dwarf?" McJohn asked,
indicating the wormhole drive.
"Or even back to the Raven," Phil said. "Look out the window, they've
flown off."
McJohn looked. "Looks like the docking clamps failed. Some idiot
tried to start the ship without them."
"But who..." McJohn trailed off as he exchanged a glance with Phil.
They both knew who the culprit was almost immediately.
"Are you gonna kill that chav bastard Callum or will I?" Phil asked
McJohn.
"You'd better do it, you're much better at it than I am," was
McJohn's response.
Phil nodded. "Too right I am."
"Of course," noted McJohn, "our killing Callum depends on us getting
out of here and back to the Raven in one piece."
Phil nodded in agreement. McJohn thought for a moment, then added an
additional, unnecessary correction. "Well, two pieces actually," he
said, "Seeing as there's two of us and all..."
It was all downhill from there.
"I mean," McJohn continued, "we could go back in one piece I suppose
if some weird space-time warp thing happened and we ended up fused
together like a couple of demented Siamese twins."
Phil began tapping his feet impatiently. McJohn kept nattering on
obliviously about Siamese twins for another minute.
"Speaking of twins," McJohn driveled, "did I ever tell you about Mary
and Sandra? Well this was about five years ago, and I --"
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SHUT UP!!!" Phil yelled at the top of his voice,
his face red with anger and irritation. "Jesus Christ, you're worse
than Seymour giving an after-dinner speech!"
"Sorry, sir. It's a nervous reaction. Whenever I feel like I'm
trapped in a dangerous enviroment about to die I start blathering
away endlessly about inane garbage. I knew this one guy on the SSS
Procyon that --"
"SHUT UP!"
"Sorry."
Suddenly, a hissing noise made them both turn around. A blue cutting
flame was visible through a newly-melted hole in the heavy armoury
door.
"SMEG!" spat Phil, "They're cutting through the door!"
"Well how'd they know we were in here?"
"Probably because you were yakking away for an hour or so about
absolute smeggin' rubbish."
"Oh, yeah."
The blue flame began slowly moving up, cutting a vertical line on one
side of the steel door. McJohn ran over to another door at the far
end of the room and looked at it quickly.
"This is an airlock," he called to Phil. "If we can find some suits
we can get accross to the Raven. If Callum isn't in the next star
system by now, that is."
Phil rushed over to the window and looked out into space. The Raven
was still there, and was getting closer.
"Jay must've gotten back aboard," yelled Phil, "she's closing with
us!"
"Well help me find some space suits! They'll be through that door in
maybe twenty minutes or less."
They began tearing through the contents of the armoury, tossing boxes
and containers wildly as they searched for two space suits. Finally,
they turned their attention to a large metal cabinet which was
securely locked.
"Can you crack that lock?" Phil asked McJohn.
"No time!" McJohn said. Then he picked up a discarded bazookoid, set
it on the lowest setting, and fired at the lock, blowing apart. The
doors swung open, before falling off altogether. Inside the cabinet
were two armoured space suits.
"Perfect," said McJohn.
"I'm not so sure," replied Phil. "Have they got oxygen tanks with
them?"
"Doesn't look like it," said McJohn, who was examining the suits
closely. "The logo on the shoulder says they're Aurella AR400s."
Phil thought quickly. "Those usually have an emergency air supply
built in, plus a rebreather unit. Good for about twenty minutes at
most."
"That should be enough, right?"
"Hopefully."
Phil began dragging the suits out of the cabinet. Hastily the two
suited up and checked the seals. Then McJohn grabbed the wormhole
drive and stepped into the airlock. Phil hung back for a moment, then
dragged an open crate and some small boxes into the airlock. He
opened one of the containers and pulled out a length of detonantor
cable. He pulled a large lump of high explosive from the crate, then
stuck it to the inner airlock door.
"Something for the smeggers to remember us by," said Phil. "McJohn,
get the wormhole drive across to the Raven. I'll rig up a few charges
on the doors, then blow it up by remote when I get across."
"Are we sure everyone's over on the Raven now?" McJohn wondered
aloud, then looked out of the airlock at the approaching craft, which
was covered in kegs and tanks.
"Looks like it," Phil replied. "Now get moving!"
<Tag!>