speedily?

Raf's own solution would have been to proceed with caution and yet
more caution. Under his technical training he had far more imagination
than any of his officers had ever realized. And now he was certain
that the best course of action was swift retreat until they knew more
about what was to be faced.

But in the end the decision was taken out of their hands. A muffled
exclamation from Lablet brought them all around to see that distant
curving roof crack wide open. From the shadows within, a flyer
spiraled up into the late afternoon sky.

Raf reached the flitter in two leaps. Without orders he had the spray
gun ready for action, on point and aimed at the bobbing machine
heading toward them. From the earphones Soriki had left on the seat
the gabble had risen to a screech and one part of Raf's brain noted
that the sounds were repetitious: was an order to surrender being
broadcast? His thumb was firm on the firing button of the gun and he
was about to send a warning burst to the right of the alien when an
order from Hobart stopped him cold.

"Take it easy, Kurbi."

Soriki said something about a "gun-happy flitter pilot," but, Raf
noted with bleak eyes, the com-tech kept his own hand close to his
belt arm. Only Lablet stood watching the oncoming alien ship with
placidity. But then, as Raf had learned through the long voyage of the
spacer, a period of time which had left few character traits of any of
the crew hidden from their fellows, the xenobiologist was a fatalist