Ukko rai
sed an eyebrow. "Free miner? Interesting. The surprises never cease. Tell me, are you with a clan I may have heard of?"
"We only have one ship. My family's not big enough to be considered a clan."
"I see."
"We work the Kuiper Belt. Our ship is called El Cavador."
"A Spanish name."
"We're Venezuelan. It means 'The Digger.'"
"An appropriate name for a mining vessel. Kuiper Belt, you say. You're a long toss from home, aren't you?"
"You could say that."
"I've never been out that deep myself. I never saw the appeal, quite frankly."
"There are fewer corporates," said Victor. "That's what makes it so attractive. My family used to work the Asteroid Belt, but we were bumped by Juke ships so often, we could no longer survive there. It's hard to make a living, Mr. Jukes, when someone is always stealing your mine shafts."
Simona stiffened slightly. Ukko's expression remained pleasant. "Yes, well I'm sorry to hear your family had a hard time. I'm glad to hear they're doing better deeper out."
"I didn't say we were doing better, Mr. Jukes. We're not. We were doing better, but then your son Lem bumped us off an asteroid, crippled our ship, and killed a member of our crew."
"Victor," Imala protested. "This isn't why we came here."
The smile on Ukko's face had vanished. He shot a look to Simona, who was now wide-eyed with shock. "I assure you, Mr. Jukes, I don't know what this man is talking about!"
"What the hell is this?" said Ukko, rounding on Prescott.
Prescott opened his mouth to speak, but Ukko was already back at Victor. "What do you know of my son? Is this some kind of extortion attempt?"
"Marcus!" said Simona.
A bodyguard lumbered into the room. Ukko held up a hand, stopping him, his eyes now boring into Victor. "You have three seconds to explain yourself, boy, or you will not like where this conversation goes."
"Like father like son," said Victor. The words came out of him before he had even considered what he was saying.
Ukko's cheeks flushed, and his expression hardened. "You rock suckers are all the same. Ignorant, pompous heathens."
"This isn't helping, Victor," said Prescott. "We need him."
Victor looked at Prescott, considered his words, exhaled, then turned back to Ukko. "We didn't come hear to talk about your son. We came here to discuss--"
"To hell with whatever you came here to discuss," said Ukko. "If you mention my son, you explain yourself."
"Fine. About ten months ago, your son's ship jumped ours during our sleep-shift, cut our anchor lines, and bumped us off a rock. One of his lasers sliced off an external sensor, which then struck and killed my uncle."
"That's a lie."
"It's not a lie. It happened right in front of me."
Ukko shook his head. "My son wouldn't bump you. He had no reason to. He isn't on a mining mission. If you think for an instant you can muscle money out of me with some made-up story--"
"I can describe the ship," said Victor. "I was out on spacewalk when it struck us. It hit me as well. I got a very good look at it."
"Anyone with access to flight records here on Luna could find out what type of ship my son is on. That doesn't prove anything." He stepped closer to Victor, his smile acid. "You think you're the first pebble pusher to try to blackmail me?"