It put his back to his stalker. Stepping clear of his sheltering slab, Ross hurled the second rock.
It struck the base of Cheng's skull with a meaty thunk. The slaver spilled forward.
Ross came in with a rush. Snatching up his downed foe's fallen blaster, he whipped it round just in time to cover the other two members of the landing party as they waded into view through the thick-drifted sand at the cliff's base.
The pair stopped in their tracks, jaws dropping.
Ross' lips peeled back in the caricature of a grin. He didn't speak.
The two men from the cruiser hesitated, then exchanged quick, raw-nerved glances.
Still not speaking, Ross flicked his blaster's muzzle ever so slightly; triggered a bolt.
Sand spewed in a geyser bare inches from the feet of the man at the left.
Like magic, the pair dropped their weapons.
Ross stripped off his torn, chrysolite-green tunic and tossed it down beside black-browed, scar-faced Cheng, still lying limp and unconscious in the sand. "Put this on him. And give me his outfit."