"Good thing there aren't any trees around here," he laughed. "We'd have to put out a forest fire."
He pulled his hand weapon from his belt, made a careful adjustment, then walked over to the ship. After a quick examination, he directed the weapon toward a spot in the hull.
"Lot of credits here," he commented laconically. "Shame to hurt the finish too much."
A few minutes later, he stepped back, examining his work. Then, he nodded and removed another instrument from his tool kit. He focused it on the ship's port, flicked a switch on his belt, then snapped the instrument on.
For a few seconds, nothing happened, then there was a grinding screech of tortured metal, and the port swung open.
As Lanko stepped inside, he examined the control room with care. At last, satisfied that no booby traps were set, he crossed to the control panel. He located the communicator controls, and picked up the microphone.
"All's well, Ban," he reported. "Ease off."
He watched as the overloaded generator recovered. When the needles were at normal readings, he flicked the screen controls off, then picked up the microphone again.
"Haul out, Banasel," he ordered. "I'm going to fix this can up again, close the port, run up the screens, and wait for our boy to come home. Like to talk to him."