The next two weeks blurred together in a haze of studying alien materials, helping with farm work, and catching up with old friends who kept asking pointed questions about her mysterious absence. Each casual inquiry made her stomach tighten a little more.
Tanya had heard through the local gossip network that investigators had been making rounds, talking to her old classmates and anyone who might know about her whereabouts during those missing months. Her university friends had even started reaching out, sending carefully casual messages about "catching up" and inquiring about her whereabouts.
The persistence bothered her more the more she thought about it. Corporate security didn't simply drop cases involving missing shuttles, as insurance protocols required thorough investigations. But this felt different. A single passenger shuttle going missing should have been a straightforward claim: file the paperwork, pay out the policy, close the case. Instead, they were treating it like a conspiracy.
Why?
Did they suspect something about the other missing shuttles? Were they looking for a pattern she was supposedly part of? Or did they somehow know about Sage? How much did they actually know about her activities?
She found herself checking the sky more often, wondering if surveillance drones were cataloguing her movements. Every unfamiliar face in town made her wonder if they were watching. Sage's fabricated non-disclosure agreement had bought her time, but it wouldn't hold up under serious scrutiny. Legal documents could be verified, mentors could be traced, and eventually someone would start asking questions she couldn't answer.
But that was tomorrow's problem. Today, she was floating in Eden-Five's orbital station, looking down at her homeworld through the observation deck windows while waiting for her next appointment.
"Tanya?" A familiar voice drew her attention from the view. Derril Voss, the family's contract lawyer, approached with his usual measured stride. He was dressed more formally than she had ever seen him in a sharp business suit that made him look like he belonged among the station's corporate elite rather than reviewing grain futures and employment contracts. It was odd as she normally saw him sitting around her family's kitchen table in casual dress.
"Derril, thanks for meeting me up here," she said, shaking his hand. "I know this is outside your usual scope."
"Indeed, it is," he said, gesturing toward one of the station's private meeting rooms. "But your father mentioned you were starting some kind of engineering consultancy, and I've always been curious about the intersection of technical innovation and commercial law."
They settled into chairs that molded themselves to their bodies with the kind of expensive responsiveness that reminded Tanya why most planetary business was conducted planetside. The orbital station catered to off-world interests with money to burn.
"Right," Derril said, activating the room's privacy screen, "I'll be direct. This area of law is a bit outside my normal practice, but I'm fairly confident in my advice regarding your harvester modification business."
Tanya leaned forward. "And?"
"The kit idea is a non-starter." Derril's expression was apologetic but firm. "Agricultural equipment manufacturers have ironclad licensing agreements that prohibit the sale of unauthorised modifications to their products. You could offer custom modification services as one-off upgrades performed on-site, but you can't sell packaged upgrade kits without explicit manufacturer approval."
"And let me guess," Tanya said with a sinking feeling, "they're not interested in approval."
"Oh, they're interested," Derril said with a dry smile. "They'd be delighted to offer you a licensing agreement where they take sixty percent of your revenue in exchange for the privilege of improving their products. They see it as free research and development."
Tanya felt her optimism deflating. "Sixty percent of revenue? That's highway robbery. It wouldn't even be profitable once you removed the cost of manufacturing"
"That's corporate monopoly," Derril corrected. "However, there are some options. You could develop and sell individual components as replacement parts that happen to be superior to the originals. As long as you're not marketing them specifically as modification kits, you might have some legal leeway."
"Might have?"
"The law in this area is deliberately murky. Manufacturers prefer it that way. You would likely have to pay per part fee, or bribe, as you might know it," Derril leaned back in his chair. "That said, you mentioned the ongoing investigation that you wanted to discuss. I have to tell you, Tanya, some of the questions you asked in your initial consultation are well outside my expertise. If you're concerned about potential criminal liability, you'd be better served by a specialist in that area."
Tanya's stomach tightened. "Criminal liability?" She knew he was right but still didn't like to hear it.
"I can arrange an introduction to someone who handles that sort of thing, but they won't be cheap. We're talking about retainers that start in the five-figure range."
"Funding is... tight at the moment," Tanya said carefully. "But if it becomes necessary, I'll definitely reach out." She didn't know where she would find the money but it was something she would need to take more seriously.
Derril nodded and made a note on his tablet. "Fair enough. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"
"Actually, yes. I have a potential client meeting in an hour. Any advice on contract terms for custom spacecraft design?"
"Now that," Derril said with renewed interest, "is much more my speed. Standard consulting agreements, intellectual property clauses, and liability limitations. I can draft something comprehensive for you."
After another hour of legal discussion and contract templates, Tanya found herself alone in the station's main concourse, watching traffic flow between docking bays and commercial districts. Eden-Five's orbital station was small by the Empire's standards, it was more of a waystation than a proper spaceport but it bustled with the controlled chaos of interstellar commerce.
Her comm unit chimed with an incoming message: Meeting moved to Bay 7. Looking forward to discussing the project. - J. Arran
Jimul Arran. Son of Councillor Helena Arran, one of Eden-Five's most influential political figures. Tanya had done her research. He was twenty-six years old, had inherited wealth, and a reputation for expensive hobbies. Mining ships weren't typically considered status symbols, but it seems that Jimul was planning to change that.
Bay 7 was in the station's premium section, where private yachts and corporate vessels docked alongside the more utilitarian cargo haulers. Tanya found Jimul standing beside a beautifully crafted personal transport, examining something on his tablet with the kind of focused intensity that suggested he took his business seriously despite his reputation.
He was taller than she'd expected, with the kind of casual elegance that was the result of never having to worry about money. His clothes were expensive but practical, they were the sort of thing that looked good in boardrooms and wouldn't be out of place in asteroid fields.
"Ms. Furrow?" He looked up as she approached, extending a hand with a genuine smile. "Jimul Arran. Thank you for meeting me here."
"My pleasure," Tanya said, shaking his hand. "Though I have to admit, I was surprised by your project proposal. Mining ships aren't usually associated with... aesthetic considerations."
Jimul laughed. "That's exactly the problem. Every mining rig in the system looks like it was designed by accountants who hate beauty. Purely functional, completely forgettable. I want something that makes a statement."
//Strategic assessment: client values symbolic representation alongside practical capabilities. This aligns with advanced shipwright principles of form and function as a unified design philosophy.//
They walked toward the observation lounge overlooking the docking bay, settling into chairs that offered a view of the various ships coming and going.
"Tell me about your mining operation," Tanya said, pulling out her tablet to take notes. "What kind of materials are you targeting? What's your operational radius?"
"Eden-Five's asteroid belt is largely untapped," Jimul explained, his enthusiasm evident. "The major mining consortiums consider it too small for large-scale operations, but there are hundreds of smaller asteroids with viable mineral deposits. Perfect for independent operators."
//Mining operations require specialised equipment integration with extraction systems, processing facilities, cargo handling. Each adds mass and complexity constraints. Difficult to produce on a small scale.//
"And you want to be an independent operator?"
"I want to prove that small-scale mining can be profitable and elegant." Jimul's expression grew more serious. "The truth is, Ms. Furrow, I'm tired of being seen as just another rich kid playing with mummy's and daddy's money. This project is my chance to build something real, something that matters."
Tanya found herself warming to him despite her initial scepticism. "What are your specific requirements?"
"Speed is crucial," Jimul said immediately. "The best asteroid claims don't stay available long. I need a ship that can reach target sites faster than the competition."
"How much faster?"
"Significantly. I want mining operations completed and cargo delivered before larger operations can mobilise their equipment."
Tanya made notes, already visualising propulsion systems and cargo configurations. "What about mining capacity? Are we talking about a small-scale operation or something more substantial?"
"Substantial enough to be profitable, but not so large that it requires a full crew. I want to operate independently, maybe with one or two assistants at most."
"Solo mining." Tanya considered the design implications and how would affect her process. "That means everything needs to be automated or semi-automated. Extraction, processing, cargo handling..."
//Automation increases complexity but reduces life support requirements. Trade-off analysis: Fewer crew spaces allow more equipment integration.//
Tanya could tell that Sage was getting excited about her taking on some real shipwright work, but she wished they would stop interrupting while she was thinking.
"Exactly. But here's the important part. It needs to look the part. I'm not just building a tool, I'm building a statement. Something that announces its owner's status and capabilities."
This was the part Tanya had been dreading. Aesthetic requirements were often the death of practical design, forcing engineers to compromise functionality for appearance.
//Incorrect assumption. Elegant design often represents optimised functionality. Beauty emerges from efficiency when properly integrated.//
"What kind of statement are you looking to make?" she asked carefully.
Jimul was quiet for a moment, looking out at the ships moving through the docking bay. "Have you ever noticed how the most successful people in the Empire operate, Ms. Furrow? They don't just have the best equipment; instead, they have equipment that looks like it belongs to the best. Appearance and capability go hand in hand."
//Accurate observation. Status signalling through superior design communicates competence and resources. Psychologically advantageous in business negotiations.//
"So you want a mining ship that could double as a luxury yacht?"
"I want a mining ship that looks like it was designed by someone who understands that excellence isn't just about numbers on a performance chart." Jimul met her eyes. "From what I've heard about your work on agricultural equipment, you might be exactly the kind of engineer who gets that distinction."
Tanya felt like he was buttering her up, as she hadn't made a name for herself yet. It was probable she was his only local option, but still, she felt a spark of excitement. This wasn't just about building a fast mining ship. It was about proving that functional design could be beautiful, that engineering excellence and aesthetic appeal weren't mutually exclusive.
//Project assessment: high complexity but excellent educational value. Integrating mining systems, high-performance propulsion, and aesthetic requirements will advance multiple skill areas simultaneously.//
"When do you need it completed?" she asked.
"Six months," Jimul said, then paused. "Actually, could you do it in three? I know that's aggressive for a custom build, but there's a particular asteroid cluster I want to claim before the big consortiums notice it. I'm willing to pay premium rates for expedited delivery."
//Timeline assessment: achievable but will require focused effort. Three months provides sufficient development time while maintaining educational pressure.//
"And your budget?"
"Whatever it takes to build something extraordinary."
Tanya looked out at the ships in the docking bay, already seeing possibilities. Fast, elegant, capable.
//Recommendation: accept this contract. The project parameters align perfectly with your current development trajectory.//
"Mr. Arran," she said, extending her hand, "I think we can do business."