They moved toward the air lock single file, Rimov in the lead, Brad, Kumiko and Scarf following, and the four deckhands, two abreast, in the rear. Rounding a corner, they stopped. Ahead, three men crouched, laser-rifles at their shoulders aimed at them. "Rimov, and you guys in the rear, outta the way. We're puttin' these bastards down." The order came from a short, blond-haired buck, eyes glaring above his gunfight. "Wait," Rimov screamed. "What's the hell's goin' on, Cordy? These guys got safe conduct from Bura." "I don't buy that, Rimov. We got the word down below that the ship's bein' taken over by Narval's goons. We're gonna stop 'em. Come for'ard, I'm tellin' ya. They're goin' down, right now. Get ready, Joe, Pete." The two guards behind Scarf and Kumiko dropped to the deck and snaked back around the corner. They were not about to shoot at shipmates. Rimov dashed toward Cordy, his arms waving. "Don't fire. Back off," he shouted. The men with the rifles were momentarily confused, uncertain; one began to lower his weapon. Rimov was a ship's officer; they would be in deep trouble if they disobeyed. Without warning, the decision was taken from them. Scarf panicked. Stepping back and behind Kumiko, using her as his shield, he frantically jerked his heavy hand weapon loose, at the same time crouching in firing position. Gripping the weapon with both hands, he rammed the setting into max and fired around Kumiko. Brad was out of his momentary line of fire. Not so Rimov. The burst hit Rimov between the shoulder blades. There was a sharp, crackling sound as cloth and Rimov's flesh carbonized. He fell forward, dead before he struck the deck. No one moved. Cordy and his men stared at their fallen officer. Brad didn't wait for them to recover. "Back," he shouted to Kumiko and Scarf. "Around the bend. Now." Kumiko whirled and raced around the corner. Scarf rolled back on to his feet and dashed after her. Brad followed. Rimov's guards were nowhere in sight. There was a roar of rage behind them. Cordy. "They shot Rimov. After 'em. Shoot to kill." The passageway was long; they would be at the wrong end of a shooting gallery as soon as Cordy reached the bend. The only break was a narrow ladder through a hatch in the overhead. "Up," Brad commanded. "Fast." Kumiko first, then Scarf. Brad followed. As Brad drew his legs up through the hatchway a searing blast struck the frame, missing him by centimeters. Brad twisted away as another bolt flashed up through the hatch, scorching the bulkhead from which he had just moved. Brad shouted down. "First guy who shoves his head through the hatch gets it burned off." Turning to Kumiko and Scarf he whispered, "That won't hold them for long." "Listen, about that shooting...", Scarf began. Brad snapped him short with an impatient gesture. "Not now. Let's get to the utility."