s
face a mask of fear and panic.

"Bull! Bull!" he shouted. "The Solar Guard! We just spotted them!
Squadrons! Heading straight for us! We've got to get out of here!"

"What?" roared Coxine, turning to his radar scanner. The blips on the
screen verified the alarm. He shouted into the teleceiver, "Man your
guns! We'll wipe them out right now!"

"But, Bull--" whined Wallace. "They'll blast us out of space!"

Coxine roared into the mike. "The first one of you yellow crawlers that
tries to run for it will be blasted by me! Man your guns, I said! This
is our big chance! Wipe out the Solar Guard now and the Solar Alliance
is ours for the asking! Fight, men! Fight!"

Tom, Roger, and Astro looked at each other, mouths open, not knowing
whether they should laugh or not at the dramatic speech of the huge
spaceman. But whatever the private feelings of the criminals, Coxine had
roused them to fever pitch and the boys could hear them racing through
the _Avenger_, preparing to fight the squadrons of Solar Guard ships
bearing down on them.

Coxine strapped himself in the pilot's chair and began barking orders to
his battle stations, whipping his men into action relentlessly.

And then suddenly Captain Strong's voice, vibrant and firm, came over
the audioceiver, demanding the surrender of the pirate captain and his
fleet.

"Never!" roared Coxine. "You'll get my surrender from the barrels of
every blaster I have under my command!"

"Then," replied Strong, "I have no alternative but to attack!"

With a coldness that reached across the void of space and gripped their
hearts with icy fingers, the three cadets heard their skipper give his
squadrons the deadly order!

"Fire!"

Coxine snapped his order at almost the same instant and the three cadets
felt the _Avenger_ shudder as her turrets began blazing away, returning
round for round of the deadly atomic missiles.

Racing from scanner to the control panel and back again, Coxine watched
the battle rage around him. With speeds nearing that of light, exhaust
trails cut scarlet paths through the black space, as the two opposing
fleets attacked, counterattacked, and then regrouped to attack again.
The rhythm of the blasters on the _Avenger_ had taken on a familiar
pattern of five-second intervals between bursts. Gradually, one by one,
the pirate ships were hit, demolished or badly damaged, but still they
fought on. Coxine, his eyes wild with desperation, now kept lining up
ships