Revolt on Io

Death stalked the Libra . The Io-plunging space liner freighted a secret weapon, and the rebel Kreuther had vowed it should not arrive.
The ship's clock bonged drowsily three times. Bud Chandler, the junior watch, glared at it languidly. Thus, he yawned, endeth the lobster patrol. Three bells, my fine bucko—and the soft, warm hay for you. Or— There was a hopeful note in his voice. Or would you like to finish out my trick for me? I'll stand double for you some night.
Dan Mallory said, Comets to you, sailor! And he rose, stretching the kinks out of weary muscles. His collar was open at the throat, his back ached from five solid hours in the bucket-shaped control chair. His eyes were strained. That was from peering alternately at glowing panels, through a perilens plate into the murky, blue-black space before the void-hurtling Libra , and back to the panels again. There's a little thing called sleep which I'm going to grab some of. As soon as Norton shows up. Where the pink Cepheids—?
Tell you what. Finish my trick tonight, Dan, and I'll double for you twice . That's fair enough, isn't it?
Fair enough, said Mallory, but not sufficiently enticing. Like an albino on a desert planetoid. Ah, here's our hero now! Welcome, Sir Relief! Dump it into the basket and let poppa go seek the arms of Morpheus.
Who's she? growled Rick Norton, Third Mate. His eyes were puffy; he squinted and glared at the bright lights of the control turret. Hell's howling acres, I'm tired! I just about got to sleep when—Oh, well. Log in order?
Directly. Mallory shot a curious glance at Norton. Just got to sleep? How come? What were you doing up so late?
It wasn't official business, answered the junior officer curtly, so it's none of yours. Let's have your log sheet. He slumped into the control chair, squinted through the perilens and made a few tiny course corrections. Across the room, Bud Chandler's shoulders shrugged a reply to Dan's swift lift of the eyebrows. The Second Mate's lips formed a word. Sore-head! Mallory nodded. Norton was a surly son-of-a-spacewrangler.