[][]/Broker Ident 7242 [Full Serial No. Redacted], reporting salvage find. Deep dig, lift gear and boring team required. Filing fee claim and requesting site rights be recognised."

/"Transmission acknowledged and order recognised, Broker 7242. Stand by for processing."

[Considerable time lapse detected in response rate. Penalty auto-docked from tardy response time. Increased penalty rates applied for remaining trade cycle.]

[][]/ "Transmission repeat: requesting fee and site rights be recognised. Possible Tier 0 find. Repeat; Tier Zero. Importance: Maximum. Do you want this damn thing or not?"

/ "Site recognised. Confirm coordinates for extraction team."

[][]/"Coordinates sent. Additional: survivor presence detected. Query: If Orokin; additional Fee Scale apply?"

- Excerpt from Tenno intercepted transmission, Prospect 141, Venus Surface Station

Assistant Controller Kef Mehrino was not a senior member of Anyo Corp.

Any number of fundamentally depressing observations reminded him of this. That he was sat in the Data Traffic control tower of an all but forgotten surface way station was one. Another was his team, or lack of one. They were freelancers for the most part, low paid serfs and directionless clerks; scarcely more intelligent than an indentured crewman. Strictly entry level. Hired help, he thought; lip curling unconsciously. They have no appreciation of the greater pursuit of Profit.

Most damning of all was the view. There was none. Just the endless howling blizzard of the most recent storm, occasionally broken up by the flitting lights of a passing star freighter. Kef often wondered why they Corp had installed a window in the first place. He was sat behind a large desk overlooking the open plan trading floor. A vista of desk and swirling data bathed the trading floor below. To the layman, it might be impressive. To him, it was a damning reminder of his own insignificance.

The station, locally identified as Prospect 141, was one of several across the surface city of the planet. Most of the cities were underground, set deep within the ice. While the orbital stations formed the bulk of civilised society on Venus, that did not mean a presence was not required in the more… untamed parts of the Corpus Empire. Beneath his tower were the habitation stacks; which became steadily more lawless the deeper you went. Right down to the coolant pits at the very foundation of the city itself.

Still, Kef was proud of his meagre station. He was part air traffic controller, part data handler and broker; with a measure of autonomy that was the very envy of the junior staff. He was even allowed to handle a limited portfolio, provided of course that the traditional Anyo tithes were observed; promptly and without complaint. The interest penalties were extortionate, and if one could not pay with credits then one often paid with one's life.

That is not to say that Kef Mehrino was satisfied with his station in life. He was a talented and capable broker, he knew it in his bones. His ambition far outstripped the limited confines of his role, and with that ambition came an appetite for …certain risks. It was this very ambition that required him to consider the few advantages of being placed in a command position with so many hired hands on the lawless frontier. Nothing blasphemous, no. But a certain eye for a quiet deal here, a neat transaction there. It had gotten him this far, and would only get him further. The key was to recognise the opportunities, and – when presented – seize them.

One such opportunity presented itself that very morning, early in the mid-cycle shift.

One of his techs stabbed at his keyboard with unusual ferocity. One of the newer crew members. Kef spared a glance at the biometrics display. It depicted the entire status of his trading floor.

Elevated pulse detected. Excitement? Stress?

Potential impact on efficiency. Lack of focus. Unacceptable. He had best get to the bottom of it.

Junior Clerk A-42. What was the man's actual name? Tohrin, Baldo?

"Torbo." He smiled broadly, pleased to have finally remembered.

"Actually it's… Jef, Sir." The clerk mumbled, turning pale. "Torbo rotated off-world two cycles ago."

Kef scolded himself for the momentary lapse in memory. That only rendered Jef paler. Though the Assistant Controller was but a larger cog in the Anyo Corp's machine, hierarchy mattered here. Kef's team knew all too well how truly ruthless he could be in maximising Prospect 141's efficiency. A number of empty chairs on the floor stood testament to that.

"Well then… Jef. Approach. What do you have for me?"

Jef rose to his feet and wound his way between work stations, visibly trembling as he approached Kef's dais. Hands knitted, the man's bow seemed almost too deferential for Kef's exacting taste. Kef did his best to hide his disdain as he received the report.

"Salvage report from the South-East Sector." Jef began, "Two man scouting team claiming site rights."

"Noted. I also note your bpm is higher than your tracked average. Is something the matter?"

Jef lowered his voice, and then added: "They… they're reporting a Tier 0 find, Sir."

"Are you certain?" Kef was surprised at the sharpness in his own voice.

"Yes Sir. The data pipe checks out."

"Beam it to my desk. Maximum encryption levels."

"Already on its way, Sir. What… what should we do?"

Kef ignored him. His eyes absorbed the information greedily. Image feeds, telemetry data.

His own heartrate spiked. He silenced the warning sigils on his display with a petulant stab of his finger.

"Have you shown this to anyone else, Jef?"

"No, Sir. You're the first to know."

"Good. Keep it that way. There's a bonus coming to you in your next pay packet. Further disclosure of any information recently discussed will result in said bonus being revoked, together with indefinite contract cancellation. Do I make myself clear?"

Jef swallowed audibly, but nodded.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you Sir." Jef paused, hesitating. "Sir… but what should we do?"

"Protocol is clear. Don't stress yourself any further with it. Leave this entirely with me. Erase your cache, and put it from your mind. I'll make sure this goes to the right people."

Junior Cleric Jef saluted, his dismissal clear.

"And one last thing, Jef."

"Sir?"

Kef Mehrino sat back in his high-backed chair, fingers steepled. His eyes remained fixed on the data feed, which rotated over and over again. The downed ship, the underground chamber. Two scavengers, climbing inside and disappearing from view.

"These men, they are one of our sub-contractors?"

"Yes Sir. Entry level, but reliable. One of the smaller freelance teams we run in the fringe sectors." Jef smiled, flushed with excitement. "I expect this is their big break."

"Yes, yes I imagine it is." Kef mused, uninterested. "Do me one last favour."

Kef Mehrino looked young Jef squarely in the eye.

"Get me Kahrl Bravic on the line."