The small comm tech flushed with pleasure at being asked, but he nodded enthusiastically. The two turned to the workbench and the mystery, their captain forgotten.
Kas started from the compartment. At the hatch he stopped and turned. If there ever was an odd couple, he thought this was it. Toj, two meters tall and a meter wide dwarfing his companion, some hundred-twenty centimeters tall and only massing about fifty kilos. He shook his head and headed for the bridge.
It was several hours later that Toj and Edro came onto the bridge. “‘Tis right I was, Skipper,” Toj rumbled. “It’s a communications device.”
“Beacon,” put in the laconic Edro.
Toj nodded. “Aye. ‘Tis a beacon indeed. It’s inactive for the now, but send it a signal on the right frequency and she’ll sing like a banshee.”
Kas frowned. “Any indication who placed it?”
“Not Fleet,” muttered Edro.
Toj nodded. “Nor is’t Imperial at all, we’re thinkin’. Could be it's Alliance, but ‘tis true it could as easily be from one of the Independents or even the damned Glory fer that matter.”
Kas hesitated, thinking. “That means a spy at the Fleet Yard on Prime.”
Rom snickered from his station. “Surely that doesn’t surprise you, Cap’n?”
Kas smiled sourly. “Not really. All right, let’s see. Whoever it was knew that we’d be sending a ship after the Rekesh, and that it wouldn’t be an obviously military ship. So they had their agent plant one of these beacons on any non-warships that came to the Yard. Then they have their pickets or customs cutters broadcast the trigger frequency.”
Toj nodded enthusiastically. “Aye! Use a frequency that nobody else uses, and nothin’ happens ‘til a ship wi’ one o’ the beacons emerges in yer system. Then th’ alarm sounds and they can decide whether t’ arrest us ‘r just foller us. Cute.”
Kas had been thinking. “Could you and Edro rig that thing to sound an alarm when it detects the trigger signal, instead of sending a signal?”
Edro’s head bobbed, and Toj replied, “Easily, Cap’n. Jus’ disconnect th’ receiver from the transmitter. Then, we c’n rig anythin’ atall fer an alarm. Eh, Edro?” The little man nodded enthusiastically.
“Why bother?” Rom asked. “It doesn’t matter who placed the damned thing. Just deactivate it. There’s no need to get fancy.”
Kas was not so easily satisfied. “Call it curiosity. I want to know who bugged my ship. I also want Starhopper searched from sensors to drive coils. Whoever left this little toy could have left something much more lethal. Or perhaps he’s not the only spy at the yard.”
“Luckily,” he continued, “our next recal stop system is Rejel, and it’s uninhabited. While Tera’s recalculating and recalibrating, the rest of us will suit up and check the outside of the ship. In the meantime, we have…” he glanced at his ring watch, “… sixty-four more hours in Jump. That should give us time to comb the interior. I want every nook and cranny checked and every access panel removed. Toj, pay particular attention to the engineering areas. A small bomb down there could be disastrous. Will you need any help?”
Toj nodded. “Aye, Skipper. Ye’ve seen there’s lotsa tight areas down there. P’rhaps y’cud see yer way t’let me borrow Edro, here.” The little man dodged as the Bulworther moved to slap him on the back.
Kas nodded. “Good idea. Edro, give Toj a hand after you’ve checked the comm systems, all right?”
The small man grinned and nodded. It was apparent that Kas’ odd couple was getting along very well indeed.
The ship’s routine was suspended and the next several ship days saw the entire crew frantically searching for bombs or bugs. Every drawer and cabinet was opened, every access panel removed and the circuitry so exposed examined carefully. Finally, only a few hours before they were to emerge into the Rejel system, Kas pronounced himself satisfied that they’d done all they could. There was no way that they could check every centimeter of the kilometers of wiring or every centimeter of space, of course. But they’d checked everything possible, and anything not searched was simply so inaccessible that it was unlikely a spy would go to the extreme risk required to place a device there.
As soon as they emerged everyone but Tera suited up and a similar centimeter-by-centimeter external search was conducted. Once her jump computations were complete, Tera joined them. The search took two days, and by its end the entire crew was exhausted and heartily sick of space suits. Finally, Kas gave permission for their next jump, to D’Jellabah.
D’Jellabah was no fun at all. Neither Rom’s bribe attempts nor Kas’ appeals to reason were effective. For two days, a crew of customs officials crawled over, around and through Starhopper. Kas was certain they’d find the quick-firers concealed between her inner and outer hulls, but the searchers simply accepted Kas’ explanation that the extra bracing and the metal bulkheads that concealed the weapons had been there when he bought Starhopper. Kas was grateful for the effort the yard crew had made to make the modifications look old. Even the most cursory examination revealed what looked like ten or fifteen coats of paint on surfaces, bolts and rivets. The inspectors ran detectors over the sheet, but whatever they were set to detect, it evidently wasn’t quickfirers. Finally, the inspectors reluctantly declared themselves satisfied, and departed.
Kas breathed a huge sigh of relief. “All right,” he decided, “Since we’ve been through this search we may as well stop at the planet to buy provisions. We’ve no time for a several-day-long port visit but I think we can spare a few hours. The port’s chandlers should have everything we need.”
“Yeah” Agreed Rom, “It’d be nice to have some fresh food, instead of that reconstituted dreck!”
To avoid yet another search, they grounded at the Bonded Area of the port. Since they’d announced their intention to buy supplies before grounding, they’d hardly secured the drives before a dozen dealers and chandlers descended upon them. Finally, Kas had to station Toj at the main lock to admit only one at a time. Within two hours, hovertrucks were lined up outside Starhopper ’s cargo hatch and cases were moving up conveyors. Since Kas refused to let native personnel aboard, the crew had to stow and secure the materials. Kas paid the dealers in imperial crowns, receiving broad smiles in return. Obviously, he was being taken by the exchange rate. Afterward, he realized he should have dickered, but military habits die hard. He could have had Rom buy the supplies, but he’d forgotten that Rom was supposed to be the purser. By the time he remembered, Rom was busy stowing cargo in the hold.
They boosted six hours later. Kas wasn’t happy. He’d blown it on D’Jellabah and he knew it.
“If anyone on that planet was watching,” he groused, “I just told them we’re military. Nobody else buys supplies without haggling, and any normal trader would’ve let his purser do the dealing.”
Rom shrugged. “Yeah, Cap’n, you’re right. But maybe we were lucky. Nobody seemed to be paying us much heed. Except the chandlers of course!”
Still, Kas huddled over the sensors covering Starhopper ’s stern until they reached the jump point and jumped. Then he straightened and stretched. “Well, I don’t think we were followed,” he said in a relieved tone. “Damn! I feel so stupid!”
Rom shrugged. “Forget it, Cap’n. It was me should’ve reminded you. I’m supposed to be the expert! Besides, D’Jellabah ain’t exactly a popular planet. I don’t think anybody who’d talk noticed.”
Kas relaxed slightly and even found himself grinning weakly. “Are we going to sit around here arguing about whose fault it was, or are we going to get on with the mission?”
Rom chuckled. “I vote fer gettin' on with it. Nothing’s to be gained by beating ourselves up over a mistake.”
Kas was scowling over a game of Jasc when Gran strode onto the bridge that ‘evening’. “Cap’n, I…” he began, then “You play Jasc?”