"Your spaceship?" Hale asked pointedly.
Yon's bearded visage smiled a little. "Mine. I bought it legally from Dornis the Fat ten years ago. It fell on his land, therefore, by law, it was his to sell."
"What about the crew?" Hale asked. "It was their ship."
"True. Unfortunately, they died—ah—intestate. The property therefore reverted to our legal government. But our aged Commander would have nothing to do with it, so he ruled that it was the lawful property of Dornis the Fat."
"Very neatly done," said Hale in honest admiration. "All legally sewed up." He knew the claim wouldn't stand up in a court of interstellar law, but he recognized the machinations of a fellow con man when he saw them.
"Thank you," said Yon the Fisher. "Now let's get down to business. You came here for a reason, I assume. Is it a deal, or isn't it? I can be patient; I am on my own home planet. You, on the other hand, have been virtually prisoners for twelve years."
"True," agreed Hale. "I think we can make some sort of agreement along those lines. I was sent to look at your ship."
Yon the Fisher pondered this for a moment, then countered with: "Why?"
"We have to know how badly it's damaged. If it can't be repaired, there's no sense in making any kind of deal, is there?"
"I see. Very well. We will go to my ship. However, we will have to take precautions. You understand, I'm sure."