"Not past the stream, if you please, captain. We spotted infra-pickups over there. That's why Chong wants daylight and cover fire." Minutes after he crossed the stream the captain's throat communicator prickled. It was Chong. "Swenson tells me you're prowling, captain. Don't tell me where you are cause I'm scared to know. But freeze there. That's a military order in the field." "Aye aye, sergeant," the captain said glumly. He slept fitfully on the hard ground. Long time until dawn like thunder ... Corporal Swenson stunned, command of the spacers devolving upon Captain Welnicki ... ask no quarter, give none ... red dawn streaks now, an omen ... LISTEN: _footsteps in the brush!_ 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." "No! Oh _no_, sergeant," the captain protested. "I've taken a _Rubberjack_ prisoner ... he'll jam the hull doors for us--" "Don't trust him nor you neither. The both of you stay put. Here goes--" "_No_, Sergeant Chong! I relieve you of command. Article thirty-seven, Patrol Regulations. Stand fast, now!" He smiled apologetically. "My field commander is impatient. But hurry, Cobb. My marines are straining at the leash." Cobb moved off hastily. Moments later came a subdued clamor of voices, scurrying feet, grating noises. Captain Welnicki peeped through the screening shrubbery just in time to see the ramp pull in and the ponderous cargo doors swing shut. He called Chong: "Enemy alerted ... fortunes of war ... stiff upper lip ... resume command, Sgt. Chong."