Because He'd Been Tricked. (Vreeeeeeeee)

As magnetised floors hurt my feet, and I lack the ability to ignore abject pain for long, I asked a bar stop of my mechanic.

Later, in the grudgingly granted nectared darkness of the 'Twin Suns' he confided, 'Didn't want this job. I know you're a peripatetic plasma cannon.'

I told him truthfully that I, hadn't. Realisation dawning, he nodded 'That makes sense.They would guess that you'd try to disarm yourself if you knew.'

'Absolutely, In the, meantime, we must warn my target. Wait.. it's not you is it?'
'Why. The Bradbury. Would I be sitting here if it was.'