"Stand, gentlemen," he bade them. "To our ship and her christening: gentlemen, I give you G.P.S. _Fishdollar's Bane_." The men choked a little on the fiery liquor. Ensign Welnicki wiped moisture from his eyes and looked on them with kindly gravity. "Hereafter you may address me as Captain Welnicki," he said. "And now stand by to outspace." * * * * * Arrowing through the fourth system like a hundred-foot rapier probing enemy vitals, G.P.S. _Fishdollar's Bane_ finally sniffed out the tender's ID pattern on an inner planet. "Pinpoint the enemy and orbit his horizon. Compute physical data and report," Captain Welnicki ordered Rutledge. Next ship-day he briefed his subordinates. A single continent lay athwart the planet's equator, with major volcanic activity in its galactic north. The enemy base was on the southwest coast. Gravity was point nine, the day twenty-six standard hours, and the season spring in the southern hemisphere. They would achieve surprise by landing in the north and staging the landing party south in the atmospheric flyer. What did they think? "It's a laugh, the way we outgun them Fishdollars, Mr.--I mean Captain Welnicki," Chong growled. "Why not take--this ship--right over 'em and call on 'em to surrender?" "They'd defy us, sergeant. They're ready to die to the last man--oh, you should have heard old Wendrew Fishdollar's parting speech! And remember, they have hostages." "Oughta be some way we could use the ship's armament." "You're a tough fighter, sergeant, but you lack creative imagination. No, my decision stands. Have your marines roll field packs." * * * * * Spiralling in, Captain Welnicki thought the continent spectacular. Volcanoes and fissure flows welled forth seas of molten rock. Seas of rain slashed into them and roared skyward again as atmospheres of steam. The shrewdest enemy would never expect attack from this quarter. G.P.S. _Fishdollar's Bane_ grounded at dusk in a wooded region of low hills. The air was sulfurous but good, the sky a smoking glory. Occasionally the ground trembled. Singing birds in the strap-leaf foliage and furry ground rats were curious and unafraid. Captain Welnicki walked apart and listened to the shouts of his marines getting groundworthy. Kihara and the spacers were assembling the flyer. The marines were playing grabtail, except two armed sentries. Keen fighting men all, spoiling for a fight or a footrace. The captain winced when he heard one refer to his ship as G.P.S. _Fishbait_. But then, enlisted men were that way, hiding their nobler sentiments under such rough endearments. Underneath, however, hearts of oak.... Early in the flaming dawn Kihara flew the marines south. He returned in midafternoon from the four-thousand-mile round trip. Then Captain Welnicki and the spacers flew south with equipment to complete the camp. There seemed to be no large animal life, so he left the ship closed but unguarded.