And suddenly the picture was clear. The two Federation cruisers hadn't cared about getting into the Connie ship. They had only wanted an excuse to tie up to it so they could do what had just been done.
They had sheared off the enemy's steering tubes, first at the stern, then at the bow, leaving him helpless, able to go only forward or back in the direction in which he happened to be pointing!
MacFife had a broad grin on his face. As Rip started to speak, he held up his hand and pointed at a wall speaker.
The Connie commander came on the circuit. He screamed, "You planned that! You—you—"
Galliene's voice spoke soothingly. "But my dear commander! How can I apologize? Believe me, the man responsible will be reward—I mean, the man responsible will be disciplined. You may rest assured of it. How unfortunate! I am overcome with shame."
MacFife picked up a microphone. "Same here, Connie. A terrible accident. Aye, the man who did it will hear from me."
"It was no accident," the Connie screamed.
"Ah," Galliene replied, "but you cannot prove otherwise. Commander, do you realize what this means? You are helpless. Interplanetary law says that a helpless space ship must be salvaged and taken in tow by the nearest cruiser, no matter what its nationality. We will do this jointly, the Aquila and the Sagittarius. We will take turns towing you, my friend. We will haul you to Terra—like any other piece of space junk."
MacFife could remain quiet no longer. "Yes, mister. And that's no' the end o' it. We will collect the salvage fee. One half the value of the salvaged vessel. Aye! My men will like that, since we share and share alike on salvage. Now, put out a cable from your nose tube. I'll take ye in tow first."
He cut the communicator off and met Rip's grin.