Another ship was screaming in, its lights darkened. As Hense dove for cover, brilliant light pinpointed the grounded flier. The guard and the unknown rolled in beside him.
There was a brilliant flash from the landing pad, then a heavy concussion made Hense's chest contract. Lurid flames rose skyward. The attacking flier rose sharply and disappeared. Hense looked after it incredulously.
"Close," commented the new-comer. "Thought for a few seconds I wasn't going to make it. Sure didn't think they'd be with it that fast." He turned and the lieutenant examined him curiously.
Even in the dim light, it was obvious he was pretty young. Khlorisana, as nearly as Hense could tell. Might be a half-caste, of course. But what was he doing here? Why a near crash landing? And who had the eternal gall to pull an attack on a grounded ship right in the Commission compound?
He continued to stare. Come to think of it, what had this joker done with his clothes? Nothing on him but a pair of shorts.
The other noticed the officer's gaze and looked down.
"Yeah, I know." He grinned. "I got busy a while ago. Forgot to put 'em back on. Didn't realize I'd left every rag behind till I was well on my way." He looked at the ground thoughtfully.
"Wonder if they'll trace Korentona through them? Well——" He faced Hense again.
"I'm Don Michaels," he announced. He held out a large book he had been carrying under his arm.
"Look," he added. "I've brought in something really hot. How about taking me over to see the commissioner? I've got to see him right away."