"We could just hop back up to the Lass and jump out, right now," Bran suggested.
Tomys shook his head. "I doubt it. Oh, you might make it to the Shuttle Port, and might even manage to hop up to the station. But I guarantee that you'd never make it to your boat. After all his investment of time, trouble and money, Cony's not about to let you get away. I'm afraid that I'm the only game in town, gentlemen."
Jirik glanced at Bran, whose nod was all but imperceptible, and sighed deeply. "Okay, dammit, I guess you've got some unwilling volunteers. So, what's the plan?"
Tomys shrugged. "Same as before. By now, Cony's experts have nearly finished checking the battle comp software and weapon specs that you brought back. They'll be convinced that they're good. Having demonstrated what an immoral and money-grubbing fellow you are, I figure that he'll decide to try buying you."
"If so, I suggest that you sell out. Sell out high, but sell out. If you don't try to run the price up as high as you can, he'll suspect you immediately."
"Then what?" Bran wanted to know. "Do you still think that you can track a ship through supralight?" His tone was sarcastic.
Tomys, though, merely nodded. "My experts think that we might just pull it off." He pulled a small case from his tunic and opened it, revealing a pellet about five millimeters in diameter. Hair-fine wires protruded a centimeter or so from the pellet.
"I want you to wire this between the astrogation comp and the command console. It's a compact but very powerful transmitter. When the final course and jump data are transmitted from the astrogation comp to the command console, this little gadget will intercept it, and retransmit it on a frequency that your equipment won't detect."
"Now," he continued, "I have a Fleet Courier standing by whose comps have been programmed to accept the transmitted data, modify it enough to permit breakout beyond your sensor range, and jump based on your transmission. I also have a Battle Cruiser standing by, with a full battalion of Marines. Right now, it's cruising just beyond the rim of Wayoff's system, busily avoiding detection. When I receive your data, I'll copy it into a beacon, which I'll drop and activate before I follow you. The Cruiser will program it's own jump, based on your data. At each recal point, I'll do the same thing. With any luck, I'll only be an hour or so behind you, and the Cruiser will couple of hours behind me."
"I see a couple of problems," said Bran. "First, I can't imagine them letting us go back to the Lass unescorted; and I can't imagine the escorts letting me install that thing. Second I doubt that they'll depend on just the Lass' detectors. I imagine that they'll be carrying detectors that will monitor a lot of other frequencies; I know that I would, and I doubt that they're much stupider than me. Third, we don't know enough about Supralight. How do you know that if you jump an hour after us, you'll arrive at the recal point an hour after us? You might get there after we've gone, or even before we arrive. One of the reasons that we know so little about supralight is the strange results that experiments like yours have revealed. All we really know is that when you mess with Supralight, the results are unpredictable. Fourth, I think that I'd better warn you that the Lass' detector array has been enhanced. When we were dodging pirates, we wanted to see them before they saw us. I doubt if our guards will let me mess with them, either."
"Whew!" Tomys exclaimed admiringly, "I thought you said 'a couple of problems'! I'll take them one by one. First, about installing the gadget. Does your astrogator know enough to disable the astrogation comp without doing serious damage? I understand that he's not exactly the galaxy's brightest light."
Jirik was irritated by Tomys comment. "Valt is a good man," he replied, "And, yes, he knows his nav comp intimately. But, how can we get word to him? I gather that the next time he sees us, we'll be accompanied by guards. He won't have a chance to disable anything!"
The agent grinned. "No problem, Captain. I've got a tightbeam transmitter here. All we have to do is scan for the Lass' ident signal to locate her, and then you can simply call him and tell him. Is there any chance that he knows enough to remove the enhancements from your sensor array?"
Bran shook his head. "No way. You'd better plan on increasing the distance that you've programmed into your Courier's astrogation comp."
Tomys shrugged. "Oh, well. Now, about your second concern. I'm sure that your guards will have detectors to monitor transmissions from the Lass. But they won't have detectors that can monitor these transmissions. I can't tell you why. For one thing, it's so highly classified that I don't know. I do know that no usual detector can detect these transmissions, not even the military's equipment."
"Your third point is well taken. Supralight is the one unpredictable factor. All that my experts can give me is reasonable assurance that I'll arrive within two to three hours either way. If I break out and the Lass isn't around, I'll simply wait a few hours to see if you show up. If you don't, and I can't catch up with the transmission by scooting around the system we're all out of luck!"
Jirik snorted. "Who do you think you're kidding? You're not going to catch up with the transmission; it's traveling at lightspeed!"
Tomys eyed him calmly. "I was talking about microjumping, Captain. Even at lightspeed, the transmission will take several hours to traverse a decent-sized system. Once I decide that you've been and gone, I'll set up a series of microjumps in hopes of catching up with the transmission."
Bran shuddered. "You're crazy! You'll end up inside a planet, or a star! Can't you think of easier ways to commit suicide?"
Tomys answering smile was grim. "I'm well aware of the risks. But those risks are justified by the chance to avoid a civil war."
Bran wasn't satisfied. "And, what happens if you can't pick up the jump data?"
Tomys shrugged. "Then you're on your own. If we haven't arrived within several days after you get there, you'll just have to try to make your own way out. Our agents are trying to get the coordinates by other means, of course, but there are no guarantees."
Jirik whistled. "Well," he replied, "At least you're as willing to risk your own life as you are ours." He sighed deeply then continued briskly, "All right. We don't have much choice but to do it; but I want some guarantees. The Lass is the only asset that we have, and it seems that you're about to put her on the firing line between fanatic terrorists and a battalion of Marines. I want your promise, in writing, that the Alliance will pay for repairs of any damage she receives, or even replacement, if she's destroyed. A Battle Cruiser's weapons aren't famous for their finesse!"
"That's no problem, Captain," Tomys replied with a smile, "The Council gave me carte blanche, remember?" He recorded the demanded guarantee. Jirik concealed the memory crystal carefully in his shoe.
"And," Tomys added, "I give you my personal word that if the Lass is destroyed, I'll see to it that you receive a brand new DIN Class Combat Hauler, fresh off the ways, in return. You see, I really do appreciate what you're doing, even though I know that you have little choice."
Bran snorted. "What makes you think that we'd want a new hull? It would be sure to be loaded with bugs in every system! No, if you get the Lass destroyed, I'd rather have one with a few years on it!"
Jirik elbowed the tall Engineer. "Sorry," he told the agent, "Bran's a perfectionist, and he doesn't have a lot of respect for shipyard workers, especially military ones." He glared at Bran. "But, I appreciate your offer, anyway. The old bitch is nearly a century old. We've started patching patches!"