"John," Elizabeth said, her voice filled with urgency, "Liu—"
"She's in trouble."
"And we have to get out of here." She got to her feet and looked around. "We're in a cargo hold." She said.
"This isn't a brig?" But as he said it, he remembered the place that they had kept Steve.
"No," she said, "The prison cells are much more secure. These tend to have—" she examined the walls of their cells closely. "—flaws." She pointed at the upper right corner of John's holding cell. "That panel. Rodney told me there's a fault. It will short out if you hit it hard enough."
John looked at the tiny panel, which was a foot and a half over his head. "Well, obviously the Ancients didn't want us using it.
"But we have to. We've got to get out of here or—" she didn't know, but she felt the irresistible urge to get out of his room, and she knew he felt it too."
He looked at her, then back at the panel, and then sighed. "We're screwed." He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. "Wait—" he pulled something out of his boot. It was a small blade.
"Deri." Elizabeth said, "I think I should make that a regulation."
John laughed. "Maybe I should give him my job." He stood up and reached for the panel. "I can't reach. I'll have to throw it." He stepped back and held the knife at eye level, lining up the shots.
"Um, You do know what you're doing, right?"
"Sure." He said, squinting, "I was drunken darts champion three hears in a row."
"Perfect." she mumbled.
He let the knife fly, and it struck the panel near the bottom edge. There was a shower of sparks and the shields died. They ran out of the room.
This is the shortest chapter ever, I know. (don't hurt me!) I've got a really big part coming up (not long exactly, just intense) and it needs more revision before I send it out to you good people.
Plus I want to drag this out a little longer...sigh...
Eveie