Story code: ST-001080
Part 4: The Registry Lockout
“You won’t file the dispute, Marcus,” I said, my voice steady as I plugged my datapad directly into the terminal’s secondary interface port.
Marcus frowned, his hand freezing over the claim token. “You don’t dictate my filings, Leo. I’m the licensed broker here.”
“Under Section Nine of the Station Registry Charter,” I said, pointing to the text appearing on the screen, “if a broker utilizes a client’s vessel to satisfy a regulatory compliance quota without a prior signed contract, the transaction is classified as an administrative operation, not a commercial delivery. The client is exempt from all associated costs.”
Marcus scoffed, though he didn’t look away from the terminal. “That rule is for corporate shipping disputes, not small-scale miners. You can’t prove intent.”
“I don’t have to,” I replied. “The system does it for me. I’ve just linked your compliance alert timestamp with the automated dispatch log. The station’s registry system has already verified the match. It’s flagged your fuel run as an internal operational utility transit.”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “If you file a dispute now, the automated system will audit the entire December run to verify your claim. When it sees that this specific transfer was the only thing that kept you from a license suspension, it won’t just deny your dispute. It will trigger a full compliance review of your entire brokerage license for the last four quarters. Your creditors will see the pending audit before the day is out.”
Marcus stared at the screen, his face hardening as the implications sank in. He knew the station registry’s automated audits were brutal. A compliance review would expose how thin his margins were, driving away the rest of his independent clients.
“You wouldn’t risk it,” Marcus said quietly. “If the audit freezes my license, the shipping lanes in this sector get locked down for weeks. You won’t be able to ship your ore anyway.”
“I’m not filing a public fraud report,” I said, keeping my tone level. “I have no interest in shutting down the sector or dealing with the station authorities. I just want my claim.”
I tapped a command on my datapad. “But I am exercising our client right under Section Nine. I’ve set a restrictive routing protocol on our account. Your broker code is officially blocked from routing any of the Vance crew’s future claims.”
The terminal screen flashed green, confirming the registry update. A small padlock icon appeared next to our claim file on Marcus’s monitor. His access to our future business was gone, locked behind a system-level wall that he couldn’t bypass without our digital signature. We were taking our business to the independent cooperative on the lower ring.
Marcus slowly pulled his hand back from the counter, his jaw clenched as he stared at the screen. He knew he had lost his leverage, his own greed having exposed the regulatory shortcut that now kept him at arm’s length.
I reached out, my fingers wrapping around the cool, heavy edges of the magmatic silicate mineral claim token. I lifted it off the counter and slid it into the secure pocket of my work vest, the zipper clicking shut.
“We’re done here, Marcus,” I said.
Clara turned toward the door, and I followed her out of the cramped office, leaving Marcus standing behind his console in the dim fluorescent light. As the heavy steel door slid shut behind us, the industrial hum of Caelum Station felt lighter, the weight of the fabricated debt finally lifted from our shoulders.