"With the quality of your tylium," the out-fittter chorts, "You'd better have more than a few tricks up your sleeve."

"Worry not," Baltaar reassures him, "Improvisation is the litter-whelp of necessity."

The out-fitter says non-chalantly, "The quality is enough for you to stake your claim."

Baltaar looks at him with an up-raised brow, "Our proceedings are not covered by the Stellar Treaty of Claims."

"How misfortunate," the out-fitter replies.

"How-ever, I do appeal to a principle of Star-Common Law," Baltaar announces.

"Of course," the out-fitter figures, "Occupation is three-forths of possesion."

"More Common than that," Baltaar counters.

"How is that?' the out-fitter asks with surprise.

"A most common founding principle," Baltaar replies smugly, "Finders Keeper; Losers Weeper."

The out-fitter chooses his words, "Your tylium being in an ultra-pure state is proving to be problematical."

"I find anything ultra-pure is usually problematical," Baltaar scoffs.

"Not exactly?" Baltaar quiries, "There's been too many 'not exactly ' for my taste, out with it!"

"Good, Very Good," Baltaar says obsequiosly."

"Not entirely, Commander" the out-fitter replies.

The out-fitter mulls over Baltaar's observation, "Well Commander, we did finally obtain samples."

"And how is that?" Commander Baltaar inquires.

"Wasn't easy," the out-fitter heaves, "Had to dig by hand. Then we got  to  sub-strata, had to switch it to syn-chitin tooling. Avoided friction and heat."

"Wouldn't want to damage the product during handling, No," Baltaar advises.

"Yes Commander," the out-fitter confirms, "Syh-chitin digging takes  longer, and the syn-chitin needs replaced constanly."

"And it is costly too," Commander Baltaar remarks, "This fortune is costing me a  small fortune."

"Almost need the Syn-chitin to grow back as fast as we dig," the out-fitter replies.

"We'll have to look into it," Baltaar decides, "Tell me about the samples."

The tone of the out-fitter changes up, "The Astral-Chem'stests came back and the tuylium grades out as ultra-pure. He says it's the purest he ever tested outside the lab."

"Is there more?" Baltaar asks promptly, "Lest I detract from your work-time?"

"Yoy Commander," the out-fitter replies, "There was, we get down into the sub-strata, and had to switch over to hand-digging."

"True enough," the Baltaar agrees, "Ambient pockets of tylium, undetected by sono-bore."

"You betcha," the out-fillter spots, "I've still got a half-crfew gettin' over flash-burns, and that was just a side-flash."

"Sometimes casualties must be absorbed in pursuit of objective," Baltaar himself counsels.

"We grabbed those samples while we were excavating thru the surface," the out-fitter grins toothfully, "The Astral-Chemist wanted that thrown in, thought you'd be interested."

"Of course," Baltaar says with quaisi-solemnity, "Always on the lookout for the welfare of my fellow Colonial."

"Twas a tricky op," the out-fitter replies, "After the Astrl-Chem surveyed a likely tylium deposit, We made the initial opening in the topsoil and subsod layers."

"And thus we have Fertile Feilds By Baltaar," Baltaar scoffs.

"Don't worry Commander," the out-fitter says in a hard tone, "You got your money's worth."

'I should be so fortunate," Baltaar replies, "The Cubit doesn't go as far as it used to, let me hear it."