Over his flame pistol Captain Welnicki saw a tall man appear. He wore a merchant spacer's leather jumper and carried a small shovel. At the captain's terse command he dropped the shovel and faced the leveled pistol, hands at shoulder height.
"Quiet now! Who are you?" Welnicki whispered.
Eyes squinted above the loose mouth. "I'm Jonas Cobb, that was third officer in Rubberjack. Are you a Patroler?"
"Captain Stephen Welnicki, commanding G.P.S. Fishdollar's Bane. I have come to liberate you."
"Well now, cap'n, that's right good of you. I'd be pleased to help." The hands dropped.
"You can, Cobb. I can use help. I've lost my ship, you see. I have only twenty-eight men with nothing but body weapons and two days' rations. I must win on my first assault."
"Here's an idea, cap'n. Them Fishdollars are still sleeping aboard. Suppose I sneak back, close the bunkroom collision doors and pull the fuses? I'll jam the hull doors too, so the guards can't close 'em."
"Good man, Cobb! Would you dare try?"
"I would, cap'n. Suppose they closed up the tender on you? All the chow's still aboard, and you can't eat native protein here without it's bio-fielded. Them Fishdollars could just sit and guzzle while you poor Patrolers all starved, and then who'd liberate us? Handguns won't noways touch that plating."
Chong came on the communicator. "Military order, captain. Stay put and keep your head down. We attack in one minute."