"How much value do you place on dreams?" Ben was glancing at the back of Rick's head from the rear seat of the space car.

Rick was glancing out into the emptiness of space, momentarily glimpsing over his shoulder at his son with a frown, "I-I don't know; dreams aren't really anything more than our brains firing around chemicals while we a-are in a rested state." He shrugged his shoulders, turning back around to stare out the window, "t-they say that acetylcholine is powerful stuff…" he let out a weary burp and glimpsed at Ben again, "W-why are you asking such a-a moronic question, Dick?"

Ben shrugged his shoulders, "Often I like to think that it is our subconscious thoughts manifesting, due to the chemistry, which occurs in a rested state." He was frowning, "I often have the most peculiar dreams; no matter how much logic I try and decipher them with, they all still seem quite bizarre."

Rick cocked his brow, letting curiosity get the better of him, "Some kid of weird sex dreams, hey?" He made a chuckling noise and turned around to face the front again, "I-I guess the apple really do…esn't fall far from the tree."

Ben leant towards the front of the car, "You know, I asked mother a similar question when I was younger." He said, his tone matter-of-fact.

"You asked your mother about sex dreams?" Rick asked, perplexed.

"No." Ben scowled, "I asked her about how much value she placed on dreams." He said, as if he was daring his father to ask more.

Rick let out a sigh, taking the bait, "Oh yeah?" He asked curiously, "W-what did mother-dearest have to say on the matter."

"Surprisingly, she can be quite superstitious about dreams." Ben was smirking, "insisting it was our subconscious trying to warn us about something."

Rick was smirking, "Good, ol' Myra." He shook his head.

There was a few moments of silence, before Ben climbed into the front of the car- his lanky body briefly bumping Rick, who scowled in response.

"Tell me something about mother that I do not know." Ben asked, seemingly perking up at the prospect.

Rick shrugged his shoulders, "Uhh…" He trailed off, "Sh-she has a nickname for my parts… she likes to call it Peter Dangle-age."

Ben screwed up his face, "why must you always take serious conversation to such ludicrous places?" he frowned, "You know very well that is not what I meant."

Rick scowled, "w-what do you expect me to say? I am guessing your mother was very liberal with information a-and the only th…ing she didn't divulge was her sex-life!"

Ben screwed up his face, "Trust me she was overly-generous with the details on that as well." He shook his head, "Look, you have known my mother since she was six years old. Surely there is something… an adventure, a mishap… anything that may have slipped her mind over the years?"

Rick was frowning in annoyance, "Geez, y-you're even more frustrating than Morty."

Ben was staring at him, "I am simply trying to fill in pointless silence."

Rick made a noise of agitation and thought hard, "I-I don't know… how much detail of my wedding day did she share with you?" Rick asked in annoyance.

Ben shrugged his shoulders, his eyes focused on Rick intently, "Actually, that was something she was extremely short on details about."

Rick shrugged his shoulders, "Ok, w-well I guess I can start by saying that Dianne was annoyed at the prospect Myra was my best man; she wasn't a fan of her being there on the front-line, to say the least." He said, glimpsing at Ben, who was smirking in amusement, "Myra got SUPER high and drunk that day- was doing the craziest things; Dianne wanted to kill her." Rick couldn't help but smirk at the memory.

"Did she ruin the day?" Ben asked curiously.

Rick snorted, "If anything, sh-she somehow made it all the more bearable." Rick snorted, "I even joined her and Squanchy for a snort of the blue stuff in a broom closet."

"Colaxian crystals?" Ben cocked his brow curiously.

Rick smirked wider, "Yeah, among other things; your mother used to be quite the drug cocktail queen."

Ben shook his head in disbelief, "That was definitely left off her information list." He was smiling faintly.

There was another moment of silence, before Rick cleared his throat, his mind ticking away curiously, "So… I am guessing your mother has said all of the bad things about me?"

Ben snorted, "That would be an understatement." He smirked, and sat up straighter in the chair, "Actually, she was always very biased, when it came to you."

Rick's brow scrunched in confusion, "W-what do you mean?"

Ben stared at him with a dubious expression, "Because she is so clearly fond of you, old man."

A strange sensation of surprise and joy suddenly peaked throughout Rick's body, hearing it. He quickly composed himself, frowning irritably.

"Don't be a-a wiener, Dick." He frowned, "Myra i-is the farthest thing from fond of anyone, other than y-you, I guess." He pulled his flask out and took a swig, briefly glancing at Ben, who was staring at him in sheer amusement, "What?" He snapped.

"Oh nothing." He smirked wider, "I just find the whole situation between you and mother completely entertaining. Both so in denial about everything; both so adamant that there is some other rationality to explain away something you both find inconvenient and illogical."

"Listen here, Diogenes…" Rick snapped irritably, "Sometimes body chemistry i-is just that; stop trying to give higher purpose to something th-that doesn't exist." He scowled.

Ben shrugged his shoulders, "I've heard her say it, you know." He glanced out the window.

Rick scowled, taking the bait once again, "What?" He snapped angrily.

"That she loves you. That everything she knew was a lie and leaving you was the worst mistake she had ever made." He said matter-of-fact, "Of course, she was completely delirious on Korblockian roofy gas; though, she was at her most mentally vulnerable…"

Another pang of surprise and joy suddenly jolted through Rick. It took slightly longer for him to recover his composure; he shook his head in annoyance to attempt to clear it.

"Stop it, you little shit!" He spat irritably, "Time to cut t-the shit; we're here!" he growled, motioning to a little speck of yellow, which was their planetary destination.

Ben smirked and shook his head, "Whatever you say, father."

Myra became aware of blinding, hot pain, moments before she opened her eyes.

She snapped awake, glancing around the surrounding debris, and clenching her teeth to prevent from screaming. Her legs were both broken and she had been impaled on a rebar, right through her lower abdomen.

Her blood was flowing, sticky and hot around her.

She placed her hand around the bar, feeling the crimson liquid oozing out of the wound; her consciousness borderline as she started to feel the world fading around her.

"Shit, Myra are you ok?" It was a Rick who was clambering over the rubble towards her, "J-99; y-you're fucking calculations were off by a mile, you asshole!" He scowled, reaching into his pocket to withdraw a gun-like object.

He was surprisingly strong, he ripped the bar clean from her; the last thing she remembered was the sound of her own, agonised scream echoing through the tunnels, before the world went black.

When she finally came to, she was all healed. She sat up, glancing around the darkness with surprised eyes.

A Rick was suddenly beside her, dressed somewhat like a nurse. "Shh-shh." He shushed her before she could make a noise, "Y-you're all healed up; we even went through t….the trouble of restoring that typical Myra strength and indestructability." He smirked as she stared at him in bewilderment, "Welcome to the resistance." He motioned around.

Myra glanced about the underground bunker, her eyes snapping around all the Ricks and Mortys that made up the meagre numbers of the resistance. They were all filthy; no doubt from crawling about the underground levels beneath the citadel. A lot of them were wearing orange and cream uniforms, of some kind; though they were covered in filth and grime.

"Hey, you're awake!" A Rick grinned at her, making his way towards her, "We were surprised to hear from a Myra- Let alone someone who associates with the Terrorist Rick!" He was grinning, "But hey, who am I to judge?" He held out his hand. "Rick C-127; just a few quantum leaps from where you hail from, am I right?" He winked at her.

Myra swung her legs out of the make-shift hospital bed and there were suddenly Ricks around her, ushering her to be careful.

She jerked away from their good-intending hands, "Don't touch me!" She snapped, "I can do it myself." She growled, standing up slowly.

"C-127, t-there are above ground reports of a lock-down." A Morty frowned nervously as he raced into the room, "A few of the down-town resistance members a-are trying to scramble the jamming sequence, as we speak."

C-127 straightened up, "Very good…" He frowned, and turned to Myra, "Rest assured, w-we will get you out of here, as soon as we can. That little shit we are currently calling president seems to really have a thing for you."

"Pfft, don't give her a bigger ego than she already has." A surly-looking Rick in a particularly grimy outfit frowned, "Nothing is worse than a cocky Morty."

A few other Ricks let out mutters of concurrence, and C-127 held up his hand to silence them.

"Now is not the time for making statements." C-127 frowned, his eyes focused on Myra, "I have something to show you." He said, motioning towards a nearby tunnel.

Myra frowned and followed after him, watching as the Ricks began to disperse back into their work stations.

C-127 let out a weary sigh, "As you know, there was a cross-dimensional purging of Myra's; no thanks to your little 4th dimension crystal fiasco." He muttered, his voice echoing through the dark tunnel as they walked, "but there are some of us who never gave up the search; what we turned up was quite surprising."

They entered a larger room, which was well-lit and sterile in appearance. The overall vibe gave Myra the impression of a surgical room, as her eyes wandered over the large control consoles and screens, which lined the far wall.

C-127 walked over to the nearest control panel, his fingers quickly typing in several commands, until a large panel folded down from the roof before them. An image flickered on the screen. It was a rough map of a dimensional void.

"Oh wow…" Myra muttered sarcastically, "Everyone knows that dimensional rifts open up all the time."

"This one is different." C-127 frowned, "Listen here Knobi-wan." He frowned at her, "Because you' re our only hope."

Myra folded her arms across her chest, "in all honesty I was genuinely hoping to just get off this city of circle-jerking."

The rick smirked at her, "well, we aren't going to let you go so easily- you see, we are planning the ultimate uprising against the president… but we need your help." He pointed at the screen, "This happens to be your own circle-jerkfest."

"What?" Myra asked, glancing at the screen.

"I-it seems your kind isn't so different from mine." He smirked at her, "Seems you really like to jerk yourself off with all the fanciness; you see, inside that void happens to be a citadel of Myras." He shrugged, "Or whatever the equivalent would be in Myra terms."

Myra pinched the bridge of her nose in embarrassment and frustration, "Fuck." She swore sourly.

"Let me guess, you want me to infiltrate this…society… and convince them to join your cause?" She let out an agitated sigh.

"I'd say 'if you don't mind'- but we both know that this would be your ultimate peeve." C-127 grinned at her, cocking his brow in amusement, "So, what I am really saying, is strap yourself in, because you're going there and convincing them that joining us is within their best interests."

Myra glimpsed at him in annoyance, "Oh I think it will be harder to convince them to not come here and kill you all." She shrugged.

The Rick smirked at her, and tilted her chin upwards so she was looking at him, "I forgot what a turn-on that fiery personality was." He grinned, "How about we momentarily forget this plan and you just do me- right here, right now?"

Myra tore herself away from his grasp, "Oh wow, what a generous offer- how about you take matters into your own hand, for that particular situation?"

He grinned at her widely, "Only if you want to watch." He chuckled.

Myra frowned at him, "I have no interest in watching a master baiter."

"I-I assure you I am quite the fisherman." C-127 smirked wider, "Although i-I am better a-at fucking."

Myra smirked at him, "I wasn't aware Mrs Palmer was so full of praise."

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and C-127 and Myra turned their gazes, to see a Morty standing there, holding a folded suit in his arms.

"Sorry for the interruption, sir…" He muttered nervously, "But the scrambler Ricks have told me i-its stable- I-it's time, sir." He said, glancing around awkwardly.

C-127 nodded his head, and turned back to Myra, "Ok, I guess our verbal foreplay is over; for now." He winked, "time to move onto phase two of this operation."

Myra frowned, "I'd really rather not." She frowned, "Last time I ran into other versions of myself…"

"Just pull your head o-out of your ass; I'm sure they will welcome you with open arms." C-127 snorted, snatching the suit off the Morty and thrusting it into her hands, "Suit up; our boycotting portal is rather harsh on anything that isn't coated in anti-matter fibre."

Myra let out a weary sigh, resigned to the fact she would have to go through with C-127's bizarre plan.

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