The "Launder Loop" was supposed to be a chore. Instead, it was a masterclass in market economics.

  At Vega, they sold the first batch of platinum and bought High-Yield Agricultural Drones. At Osiris, the drones sold for a 40% markup due to a localized famine. They bought Refined Tibanna Gas. At Kestrel, the gas was swapped for Medical Isotope Casings.

  By the time the Millennium Seagull II docked at the Titan Shipyards, they weren't just clean. They were filthy rich.

  "Final tally," Carol announced, projecting the balance onto the wall of their private VIP lounge at the Titan orbital station.

  75,240,000 CR

  Ford stared at the number. He took a sip of his champagne (real champagne, from Earth-that-was).

  "We made ten million just on the arbitrage," Ford shook his head. "I've been hauling fertilizer for twenty years. I should have been hauling isotopes."

  "Volume helps," Carol noted. "The Seagull II can carry ten times what the old bucket could. We aren't just trucks anymore, Ford. We're a logistics solution."

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  She swiped the screen, dismissing the bank balance.

  "Now," she said, her eyes gleaming. "Let's spend it."

  The screen was replaced by the Titan Shipyards Inventory. It was a menu of every ship available for sale in the sector.

  "We have a budget of 30 million for the first expansion," Carol said. "We need fleet diversity."

  She highlighted three categories.

  1. The Heavy Hitter Class:* Surplus Destroyer Pros:* Heavy shielding, railguns, intimidation factor. Cons:* Slow, thirsty fuel consumption. 2. The Ghost Class:* Stealth-Runner (retired Intel vessel) Pros:* Cloaking baffles, advanced sensor suite, fast. Cons:* No cargo space, paper-thin armor. 3. The Swarm Class:* 5x Interceptor Fighters (Drone-Link capable) Pros:* Can overwhelm pirates, can be piloted remotely by Mother. Cons:* Short range, requires a carrier to jump deep space.

  "What do we need?" Ford asked, looking at the Destroyer. It brought back memories of his service days. Bad memories.

  "We need eyes," Carol said, tapping the Stealth-Runner. "If we are going to operate out of Sector 9, we need to see them coming before they see us."

  "But we also need teeth," Ford countered, pointing at the Fighters. "If I'm going to sleep in a haunted sector, I want a drone swarm guarding the front porch."

  Carol smiled. "With 75 million... maybe we get both?"

  "Let's go kick the tires," Ford stood up. "I haven't bought a new ship since... well, since I won the Seagull in a poker game."

  "Try not to insult the salesman," Carol advised.

  "No promises," Ford grinned. "I have money now. Being rude is a luxury I can afford."