Induction Beacon Activated (Please Keep Reading and Bookmark!)

Robert IV's geostationary orbit, Abundance Port.

It was the agricultural planet's only civilian cargo port and orbital elevator.

Every day, vast numbers of containers loaded with cash crops, meat, and livestock by-products came up the orbital elevator before being loaded onto the cargo ships docked at the port.

And August, by Universal Standard Time, was harvest season on Robert IV.

It was also Abundance Port's busiest time of year.

Anyone floating in space near the port would have seen cargo ships streaming from its many exits.

The glow from their sterns shifted from dark red to blue as their plasma propulsion arrays steadily increased power.

After leaving the port and adjusting their orbits and attitudes, the freighters gradually gathered like a school of fish in the deep sea.

They would follow a fixed trajectory, using Robert IV's rotation to accelerate until they reached the speed needed to escape its gravity.

Then they would split off again, each bound for a different destination.

A small number would use gravitational slingshots to reach other planets in this system or nearby systems.

If they had been in a more prosperous system instead of this frontier one, they could have cut their travel time further with one of the Federation's massive mass accelerators.

Apart from those short-haul ships, most vessels would head for a large jump-drive array in deep space. After waiting their turn, they would be sent to other systems.

The giants among those fleets—enormous freighters equipped with jump engines—would activate their engines once they reached a safe distance and enter subspace.

Because this technology was so important to humanity's development, the ruling powers of every major human faction controlled it tightly.

Although every military ship carried it, it remained relatively rare on civilian freighters.

Civilian ships more often relied on the large jump-drive arrays built by those factions to travel between systems.

Now, fifty-meter shuttles wove constantly through the unbroken stream of ships.

Belonging to Robert IV's customs service, the shuttles would board freighters for a final inspection while they accelerated.

Under its pilot's control, patrol shuttle LHJ-117 slipped deftly through the long school of ships.

It finally docked with a cyan-painted Fox Ferret-class freighter.

As the airlock slowly opened, the customs officers assigned to board the ship were greeted by its captain, who rubbed his hands together with an ingratiating smile.

"Ship number 6277, Mithril."

"We're conducting a customs boarding inspection."

"Please open your shipboard terminal interface. We need to connect."

Ignoring the captain's awkward smile, the expressionless customs officers walked straight into the ship.

One of them went directly to an internal transit passage.

He jumped into the zero-gravity section, gripped the handles on the transport rails to either side, and "floated" toward the cockpit.

He would connect to the ship's terminal and check whether the original navigation logs and cargo manifest complied with regulations.

The other officers followed the captain toward the cargo holds at the rear.

"Captain Ramos, I've been running this route for almost ten years. We go way back. Do you really need to be so strict? Heh."

The deeply lined captain discreetly offered the customs team leader a pack of cigarettes.

They were genuine hand-rolled cigarettes, a rarity for officers who spent most of their time at Abundance Port and seldom went down to the surface.

The middle-aged man called Captain Ramos deftly took the cigarettes and slipped them into his uniform pocket.

His expression did not change, though, and he did not slow his pace toward the cargo holds.

"A routine inspection is a routine inspection. Those are the rules."

"Don't think I'll lower my standards just because we know each other."

Half a step behind him, the captain silently cursed the man who took gifts but offered nothing in return.

Still, he kept smiling and obediently followed.

The routine spot check went quickly. Of the dozens of modular cargo holds aboard Mithril, they would inspect only a random selection.

Cargo traffic had been so heavy lately that the customs officers stationed at Abundance Port could barely keep up.

Soon, having found nothing unusual, Ramos prepared to take his team to the next ship.

But as he moved to open the last cargo hold, the captain, who had cooperated until now, suddenly stepped in front of him.

"Captain Ramos, haven't you finished checking?"

Ramos frowned at him and said irritably:

"Move! This is the last one. We'll leave as soon as it's checked."

"Come on. You've all worked hard, and there are plenty more ships waiting for inspection."

The captain remained in front of the cargo hold door, with no intention of moving.

His refusal to cooperate angered Ramos.

The customs inspection captain, who had ruled the roost at Abundance Port for years and put countless ship captains in their place, drew the stun gun at his waist.

But the next instant, the captain held out an LED slip, stopping him.

The slip bore only a simple message: "Special cargo for Yasin Base. Inspection personnel are to allow immediate passage."

But Adam's signature and electronic seal at the bottom made that thin slip feel impossibly heavy.

After a moment's hesitation, Ramos sighed and holstered his stun gun.

"Forget it. Let's go."

The customs inspectors soon returned to their shuttle and undocked from Mithril.

Watching the freighter rejoin the "school" beyond the porthole, Ramos was frustrated but powerless.

In the Federation's core worlds, a customs service under the planetary administration might have been able to stand up to the military.

But this was the frontier. Here, having guns mattered more than anything else.

Even his boss's boss, Robert IV's chief administrator, had to smile and grovel before Commander Adam.

A lowly customs inspector like him had no business inviting trouble.

"That plague is finally gone."

Inside Mithril's cockpit, the deep-lined captain had shed his earlier playful grin.

A grave expression had taken its place.

He raised his wrist and checked his personal terminal. The Universal Standard Time in the upper right corner read August 17, 14:15.

"Good. We didn't lose too much time."

"Proceed as planned. Jettison cargo hold 42 in one hour!"

"Yes, Captain!"

August 17, 15:15, Universal Standard Time.

Cargo container 42 "accidentally" detached from Mithril.

After detecting an object obstructing the shipping lane, a small engineering craft hurried over.

Its crew urgently contacted the freighters passing nearby but found no one who claimed it.

Several carbon-fiber cables tipped with electromagnetic grappling hooks launched from the craft and caught the tumbling container.

The engineering craft then followed standard "shipping lane clearance" procedure, towing the container toward Abundance Port.

August 17, 15:30, Universal Standard Time.

In a frontier system of the Star Dragon Empire, the Imperial Navy's Eighth Expeditionary Strike Group waited.

At the center of the fleet was its flagship, the third Soul Requiem-class battleship, Dawn Divine Sword. On its bridge, the strike group's commander, Imperial Navy Vice Admiral Marquis Lierman von Ascania, finally heard the news he had been waiting for.

"General, we've picked up an Induction Beacon signal!"

"Its signature matches the intelligence exactly!"