"It's a question of margins. You can make all the turnover in the galaxy, but if your operating costs are too high, one will never attain a state of True Profit. Beware the Referral Fee. If you find yourself in this position, the Path is clear.
Eliminate the Overhead."
- Nef Anyo 3:15, Meditations on Maximising Profit
The two men sat outside on the nose of the ruined ship, warming their gloved hands on the small heat source HWK 44 had deposited in the air before them. A spinning orb rotated in the drone's gravity fields; a tiny iridescent ball of plasma that wobbled and fizzled in the gloom. The drone for its part did not seem to mind the wait; it was simply happy to be unpacked and of service.
The drone's owner was quite another matter.
"You called it in, right?" Telin asked for the third time in as many minutes.
"I did." Kelpo nodded patiently.
"And they recognised our claim?"
"They did. Proper authorisation codes and all."
"Right, right. Just checking."
"You seem worried."
"You're not?" Telin asked. "This is big, Kelp. Bigger than anything we've ever landed. How long have we worked the ice?"
"Three years, two months and four work cycles; adjusting for time dilation."
"That's alarmingly specific."
"I can be an alarmingly specific person, Tel. We climb coolant glaciers for a living. You think I got this far by being sloppy?"
They had left the casket where it was, safe in the belly of the ruined freighter. Without advanced lifting equipment there was no moving it. Their claim had been processed, the wheels were in motion. Now all they had to do was wait.
The wait ended when the transmitter strapped to Kelpo's belt crackled.
"Eyes up, Broker 7242. Extractor arriving in 5, 4 –"
The remaining countdown was drowned out by a bellicose deluge of steam and fire.
Both men leapt to their feet. With a wave of his hand, HWK snapped back into position on Telin's shoulder. The cacophony was brief; the roar of the plasma drill bursting into a the chamber in a final spray of smoking debris. Ashen flakes of melted rock drifted through the chamber like settling fallout.
The extractor unit was chain fixed; a deep level boring drill that combined plasma torches with a wickedly sharp set of drill-teeth. Clinging to the chain were two armoured figures; clad in heavy-plated environment suits. Industrial grade respirators granted them an almost insectile appearance; all coolant pipes and moulded goggles.
The drill whirred to a halt as it winched down to the base of the vaulted chamber; its teeth still steaming liquidated coolant as it settled. The drill operators spared a glance around the chamber. One of them murmured into a wrist-com, and they began clambering down to the floor.
As Telin and Kelpo approached, two more men slid down the chain, clambering down from the rig with an ease borne from experience. Both were dressed in hard-suits not entirely dissimilar to Telin's own, though a slightly newer model. Their face masks were a mirrored silver. Telin saw the sigil on their hard-suits, and frowned.
It seemed familiar.
The largest of the newcomers stepped forward, hand raised in greeting. Telin was not a small man by any stretch, but even so this brute dwarfed him.
"Broker 7242?" the man asked, his voice heavily filtered through the filtration mask. He touched the side of his visor and it smartly depolarised, revealing a weathered face, heavily tattooed. His suit left his face entirely exposed behind the visor; hinting at an altogether more advanced filtration system.
Kelpo stepped forward, holding up his Salvage Licence. Corpus runes played across the surface of the tablet. The larger man took it in with the briefest glance, nodding once. He produced the corresponding Requisition Slate, flashing it briefly.
Kelpo proffered a hand.
"7242 at your service. Name's Kelpo Marr. This is my business partner, Telin Voss."
"Speyer." There was no surname forthcoming as he shook their hands, brusquely. "This here's Wen. Quite a find you have here."
"I'll say. You're going to need heavy lift gear to shift it."
"We've it covered. Let's take a look."
Speyer turned to his men.
"Loading Team!" he bellowed, "Let's make some credits!"
Automatically the rest of the men began unpacking further chains from the boring drill; fanning out either side of the ruined ship. The bulk of the chains were propped up by grav fields, which bobbed and thrummed under the strain.
"You reported a survivor?" Speyer asked publicly.
"Yeah, still inside." Kelpo grinned, beckoning. "This way."
Telin had yet to say a word. He studied the sigil on the back of Speyer's environment suit. It showed a Raptor drone, clutching a hammer. A Europa marker; one of the larger indentured crews, maybe? Boxed crooks for the most part; failed mercenaries, jailed thieves. Hired guns, out in this part of the world. Dangerous men, for dangerous work. Telin couldn't quite place it.
Still, a chill colder than anything beyond the confines of his hard-suit crept along the nape of Telin's neck.
They paused at the entrance wound to the ship. If Speyer was perturbed by the unusual nature of the ship, he didn't show it. The man was evidently hardened - and certainly better travelled than Telin, who had spent most of his life here on Venus.
"You first, Gentlemen." Speyer motioned. "Your find, your show."
Telin and Kelpo dropped down into the ancient ship. Before the next men came through, Kelpo caught his eye and flashed a hand gesture. It was Miner Sign; taught between members of the lowest echelons of Corpus Society. A single phrase, almost too quick to process before it was gone.
Worried.
Speyer and Wen squeezed through behind them, taking in the ship with practised detachment. Telin could hear large bolts being machine-stamped into the side of the ship's frozen hull. Speyer's team evidently did not place a high priority on conservation.
"Should… should you guys be that rough with this kind of find?" Kelpo winced as another bolt was slammed into the ship. It sounded like a gun shot in the confined space.
"It's not the ship that matters." Speyer shrugged expansively. "Show me this survivor."
They moved forward, Speyer pausing only to examine the shrouded figure in the centre of the ship with an incredulous shake of his head.
Speyer clapped his hands when he was presented with the golden casket, barking a small laugh. He crouched down and examined the readout on the boy's casket.
This was not protocol. Where was their initial Finders Fee, the balance on Verification? This flew in the face of Anyo Corp due process. The credit counter on his HUD remained unchanged. None of this was normal. Pieces began to form in Telin's mind. Smaller details, filling a larger whole.
While Speyer was unarmed, the rest of his men were most definitely packing. Detron hand cannons, antique slug throwers and Flux rifles. Ship boarding weaponry; compact, brutally efficient. Favoured by the marines of the Corpus Fleet. Or pirates.
Then it clicked. The Europa symbol on Speyer's hard-suit was no work crew at all. It was an infamous chain gang, notorious for their participation in the sub-sector food riots.
Telin's Life Lessons bore none of the gravitas of Nef Anyo's teachings. There were no grand designs or hidden messages. No messianic vision. Just practical sense, thoroughly rooted self-interest:
If a deal seems to be going bad, it most definitely is.
Telin was suddenly acutely aware that Speyer's lackey Wen had casually sidled to the entrance of the broken throne room, effectively boxing them in. Telin rapped his knuckles against the breastplate of his environment suit; a different coded language altogether; this one used in the labour pits of Solaris United; rapped out against gantries to alert workers about the approach of particularly vindictive overseers.
Danger.
Whether Kelpo understood or not, Telin couldn't tell. There was no time.
"And he's definitely alive?" Speyer was asking.
"There's no telling how long he's been there, but yeah." Kelpo nodded, "Readings are stable."
"Excellent. Truly excellent find." Speyer turned and glanced up at his companion. "Pay the man, Wen."
Far too quick to process, Wen produced a snub nosed pistol and neatly shot Kelpo in the head.
Kelpo toppled without so much as a murmur.
With a roar, Telin was on the man in a flash. Or at least he would have been, had he not been neatly tossed across the room. As the wind slammed from his lungs, Telin became very aware that he was no trained fighter, but that the men currently in the process of murdering them very much were.
Speyer and Wen looked down at him, with a combined look that could have been described as pity, were it not so laced with contempt.
"Brave effort, Scavver." Speyer smiled. Then his face grew stony.
"Kill him."
HWK-44 let out an avian shriek as it flew loose at high speed; crunching into Wen's faceplate with a splintering crack. The man toppled lifeless to the floor, the drone wedged in his face.
The pistol tumbled free from the man's hands, skittering across the floor.
Speyer and Telin both looked at the gun.
They looked back at each other.
They dove in unison.
Speyer had size, but Telin had a scrappy speed. Neither worked. Both landed in a sprawling heap at the same time, wrestling and snarling over the gun. Sledgehammer punches landed into Telin's sides time and time again. Enraged, Telin jolted his helmet into Speyer's, hard.
The pricing difference was clear: a disconcerting rivulet snaked its way across Telin's vision, venting oxygen with a wet hiss. Speyer's own visor remained pristine. Speyer guffawed, then savagely elbowed Telin in the throat. Telin fell back, gasping.
The gun came free in Speyer's triumphant hands.
He shoved it in Telin's face, leering over him.
Telin became keenly aware of every porous detail. The silver barrel of the battered pistol. The way the light glinted off the cracks of his visor. The cold, murderous rage in Speyer's eyes.
This was it. This was how it ended.
A sheet of red exploded across Telin's vision.
Stricken, Speyer's body tumbled to one side. Jutting out the back of his neck was a low budget scanning wand. It had been driven clean through the base of the skull; spearing out between his teeth. The man's leg kicked and spasmed, not quite accepting the suddenness of his fate.
The wand for its part emitted a keening wail, declaring the very sudden flat-lining of its victim.
Kelpo stood over him, chest heaving. His faceplate a broken wreck, venting oxygen and streaming blood across the deck.
"Tel old buddy." Kelpo managed through mangled teeth. "Somehow I don't think they're inclined to share."