The room in which the giant pirate spaceman had gathered his men was one of many in a building constructed since their arrival from the prison asteroid. Hidden from even the closest inspection by the smaller bodies circling around the main asteroid, Coxine had expanded the small hut used by Wallace and Simms into a huge rambling building containing armories, machine shops, and storage rooms packed with everything he and his murderous crew might need.
Now with a string of successful raids behind them and their personal pocketbooks bulging with stolen credits and valuables, the crew of pirates waited attentively while their cruel but brilliant leader outlined the most daring plan of all.
"Now listen," roared Coxine. "There's a few things I want to say before we start on the plans of the next strike!"
The big spaceman paused and glared at the men in front of him. "Ever since that space-crawling cadet pulled a fast one on me there's been talk about voting for another leader!" He spat the word as if it had left a foul taste in his mouth. "Well, get this. There'll be no voting! I'm the boss of this outfit! Any man who thinks he can take over my job," Coxine's voice dropped to a deadly whisper, "just let him try!"
Stony silence greeted the huge spaceman, a silence inspired by fear.
"Now!" roared Coxine, his coarse features changing from a scowl to a broad grin. "The strike!"
This was greeted with a roar of approval. The men demanded action after a week of idleness on the asteroid.
"Wallace!" yelled Coxine.
"Yes, sir," answered the spaceman, stepping up to the table and facing Coxine.
"We'll take up a position in the asteroid belt, here!" He placed a finger on a map of the belt. "Simms!" roared the giant spaceman.