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Had it truly been Vika of Treve? I raced to the workshop of Misk and flung open the double doors and leaped into the ship and secured the hatch, and in a moment it seemed the floor dropped a foot beneath me and the doors rushed forward. - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter 29, Sentence #39)

"Take care," she said. "I will," I said. There was another groan from the man and the girl turned to comfort him. Had it truly been Vika of Treve? I raced to the workshop of Misk and flung open the double doors and leaped into the ship and secured the hatch, and in a moment it seemed the floor dropped a foot beneath me and the doors rushed forward. In less than a few Ihn I had brought the ship into the large Nest complex where the ten ships of Sarm still followed their grim, precise, destructive pattern, as placidly and methodically as one might paint lines on a surface or mow a lawn. I knew nothing of the armament of the ships of Sarm and I knew I had only the silver tube in my own craft, a weapon far outclassed in destructive potential by the gravitational disrupters mounted in the ships of Sarm. Moreover, I knew that the cage plastic with which my own ship was protected would be no more protection than tissue paper against Sarm's weapons, the nature of which was not to pierce or melt but, from a given center, radiating outwards, to shatter material gravitationally, breaking it apart and scattering it. - (Priest-Kings of Gor)