"Jest a minute," he said. "I think I'll get me some music on the radio. You don't mind?"
"No," said the bosun. "Not a bit."
The first mate walked to the hyperspace radio and flicked on the dial. After fiddling with it for some time, he picked up a symphony being broadcast from Kque. "There," he said, "that's th' kind uv music I shore do like ta hear."
The music welled out and filled the room with sound.
"Shore is purty," the bosun said.
The first mate walked back to him.
"Guess I'll start on your back," he said. He reached up and ripped the bosun's shirt off.
Then, when the back was laid bare, he made a very shallow cut running the length of the shoulders from armpit to armpit.
"Be kinda hard ta get started," he said.
He put the penknife in the incision and began to pry the skin loose. "Gonna take me a long time ta get a hand holt," he said. "Course onct I do, hit'll be as easy as skinnin' a skunk."