It all happened so fast that Conn almost didn't believe it. One moment, Beryl was about to cut down her own murderous brother in cold blood, the next she was slumping to the ground, hit by no less than three darts. Conn shouted out, but his voice was drowned out by the ominous howling of depressurization. He stood up quickly and hefted his pack and moved towards the door that Beryl and her brother had disappeared.
"What in the NINE HELLS do you think you're doing, Conn?" Max's voice screamed above the rising din.
Conn stopped abruptly and turned around to see Max sprinting towards him. "Max?" he said. "Where've you been?"
The petite trustee strode the last few meters towards Conn, grabbed his arm and proceeded to haul him back towards the freighters. "Never mind where I've been," she snapped, tugging him along. "Did you get hit in the head or something? We need to get out of here."
"But I need to go after Beryl," Conn said, sounding somewhat dazed.
Max whipped her head around to glare at the Doctor. "Oh yeah, sure. What are you gonna do? Go through his entire corps of stormies? Never mind getting past that sealed door." She waved her hand around. "If you haven't noticed, this place is depressurizing fast and unless you fancy spending the rest of your short life as space debris, I suggest you cooperate and let me get us out of here."
The weight of her words sunk in. "Sithspit, you're right," Conn said, moving with a sense of urgency now.
Max sighed exasperatedly. "Of course I am," she retorted.
Conn cast a last longing look at the sealed door, then over towards the newly-arrived freighter that was dozens of meters away. Jeez and Sam were almost to the lowered ramp. "What about them? Shouldn't we go there?"
Shaking her head, Max replied, "By the time we reach there, this place will have depressurized completely and we'd be mynock fodder." She pointed ahead at the shuttle she had occupied. "We're taking that for now, we can meet up with those guys later."
"Right," Conn agreed as he and Max sprinted towards the shuttle. They bounded up the ramp and Max headed for the cockpit.
"Dog that hatch shut and make ready for departure," she ordered, sliding into her seat and gripping the controls.
"Got it," Conn said as he slapped the ramp controls, then cranked the pressure seal shut. Moving to the co-pilot's seat, he sat down and strapped in.
"Hold on, this is probably going to get dicey," Max said as she primed the engines. "The Imps will have their planetary defenses active by the time we're both spaceborne; I was only able to set a temporary scramble code to lock them down, meaning they'll have them up any minute now." She looked outside the viewport at the freighter idling just outside the blast doors. "They need to get their butts moving now, otherwise we're all dead."