The craft hovered over the station for some while and the Wabbit hopped out to meet with whoever or whatever might emerge. He watched as the Ice Mice beamed down, then advanced across the platform and waved for them to stop. "Please do tell me," he said flippantly, "who does go there?" The middle Mouse spoke first. "We are the Reformed Ice Mice and this is a mission of polite diplomacy." "Oh really," said the Wabbit, "may I call you RIM?" The Ice Mice made snickering noises but the leader frowned and turned sharply to the Wabbit. "We have done you a Great Service," he said. The Wabbit laughed derisively. "It was all in hand, you wasted your time." The Ice Mice conferred. "You have something we want," said one finally. "Do I look as if I’m bothered?" said the Wabbit. The Ice Mice shook their heads sadly. "We request a sign of good faith," said another Ice Mouse. "I’m all out of stock," said the Wabbit. Now the Ice Mice were getting extremely annoyed and the Wabbit smiled to himself. "We want the key!" shouted the Ice Mice in unison. "I do have a key," said the Wabbit. "Excellent," smirked the leading Mouse. "But the key belongs to me," said the Wabbit, "and it won’t work for anyone else." "We will take your key!" shouted the Ice Mice. The Wabbit shoved his paws in his fur and shrugged. "You and who’s army?" he grinned.