The dome failed to close over the H-M’s bay. With it open, Ishikawa’s men would have to suit up. “Reyes, pick out two guys, go down and close the dome,” Ishikawa ordered. “I’ll arrange covering fire.”

Cera was leaving him to fight his way back onto his own planetoid. His excuse should be interesting. Reyes’ team cracked a hatch, shot zip lines at the wall and rode them down. Snipers in the next hatch fired some ranging shots so anyone thinking about interfering wouldn’t. Soon the dome was closed and pressurized.

The next step was to set up defense. This went slowly; the ship’s port davits were useless, due to its list. Ishikawa studied the spaceport diagram. “Secure the subway station,” he ordered.

Reyes and ten men found two guards posted at the top of the stairs. Duct tape covered their helmet insignia. “Who are you guys?”

“Who are you?”

“We live here. Excuse me, but can we go home now?”

The man he’d spoken to blanched. Suddenly he put the nuzzle of his gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.