Dominico pulled himself along Dowst's prone form and then along Rip's. When Dominico had reached the shelter of the crystals, Dowst crawled along, with Rip's body for his guide, passed over him, and reached cover. Rip followed. The belt lights of the two Connies were almost abreast of them. Far to their left, Rip saw another pair of lights. That was a pair he hadn't seen before. "We'll wait until they pass," he told his men. "Then we'll get up and rush them from behind. They can't hear us coming. Dowst, you take the near one. I'll take the far one. Dominico, you help as needed, but concentrate on cutting off their equipment. The first thing we must do is cut their communicators; otherwise they'll warn the rest. Then turn off their air supplies and collapse their suits." One thing was in their favor. The space suits worn by the Connies were almost the same as theirs. The controls were of the same kind. The only way to know a Connie was by his bubble, which was a little more tubular than the round bubbles of the Federation. Rip suddenly realized that he wasn't nervous anymore. He grinned. After all, this was what he was trained for. The Connies came abreast and passed. "Let's go," Rip said, and as he rose he heard Koa's voice. The sergeant major said, "Kemp, kneel on their right side. Trudeau and I will hit them from the left and tumble them over you. Get their communicators first." Koa had his own methods and they sounded good. Rip started slowly. He wanted to get directly behind the Connies. He stayed down low until he was sure they couldn't see him unless they turned. Dowst and Dominico were right with him. "Come on," he said, and started gliding after the helmeted figures. He kept his eyes on the one he had selected, and he called on all the myriad stars of space to give him luck. If the men turned, his plan for quick victory would fail. He sensed his Planeteers beside him as the figures loomed ahead. He gave a final spring that sent him through space with knees bent and outthrust, his hands reaching. His knees connected solidly with the Connie's thighs, and his hands groped around the bulky space suit. He felt a rheostat control and twisted savagely, then groped for the distinctive star-shaped button of the air supply. The Connie wrenched violently and threw them both upward. Rip felt the star shape and twisted. If he could only deflate the Connie's suit! But the man was writhing from his grip, clawing for a weapon. Then Rip stopped reaching for the deflation valve. He grabbed his knife, jerked it free, and thrust it against the middle of the Connie's back. Then he clanged his bubble against the man's helmet for direct communication and shouted, "Grab some space, or I'll let vack into you!" The Connie understood English. Most earthlings did. But even better was his understanding of the pressure on his back. He stopped struggling; his arms shot starward.