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Updated: May 15, 2025
"One is carrying a pneumatic chattergun. The rest have nothing in their hands." "Pederson, report." "No weapons I can see, sor." Koa looked at Rip. "They must think the asteroid is clean. Otherwise they’d have more than a chattergun in sight. You can bet they have knives and pistols, too." Rip had been playing with an idea. He tried it on his men.
The Connie was on his knees, both gloves pressed tightly to his side. Dowst was just finishing a knot in the safety line that bound a second enemy’s hands. The Connie Rip had rocketed down on was still lying where he had fallen. And Corporal Santos, the enemy’s pneumatic chattergun at the ready, was standing guard. Rip turned up the volume in his communicator.
They’ve just come out of deceleration and they won’t have their space-legs yet." Santos reported. "They’re breaking up into groups of two. Three are guarding the snapper-boats. One is the man with the chattergun." "Are their belt lights on?" "Yes." "Then keep out of the beams. Don’t let them walk into you. Keep low, and keep moving. Stay over on the dark side."
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