Price commed. “Just hold your points.” “Got it,” Butch said. Price crabbed his sled over to the shuttle where a guy in a suit was holding out one end of what looked like one of those pipes gas delivery trucks used. Except it was shiny silver. With all the equipment moving in about nineteen different directions, the intercept was a stone bitch, but Price made it look easy. Butch had to admire the older welder, he was a master of using a sled. “Get this,” Price commed, extending the pipe. Butch carefully latched onto the grab point and brought it over to the mating collar. “And we have good connect,” Price commed. “Opening the valve, Myrm.” “Roger, Fourteen.” “Ask your coxswain to try to maintain closer position,” Price commed. “We don't want to yank your tank out of your little boat.” “Copy, Fourteen.
