Having 7,500 credits in his pocket made Ren feel anxious.
In the Lower Decks, wealth was like a bleeding wound in a shark tank. You didn't flaunt it. You converted it into tangible assets immediately before someone mugged you or inflation ate it alive.
Ren sat at his kitchen table (which was just a crate with a towel over it), inspecting his tools. His screwdriver was bent. His soldering iron sparked ominously whenever he plugged it in. His "Cyber-Deck"—the portable computer he used for diagnostics—was a glorified calculator from 2060 held together by duct tape and prayers.
"If I'm going to be a real Fixer," Ren decided, "I need equipment that doesn't have a 50% chance of exploding in my face."
He made a plan. He would go to "Tech-Row," the mid-tier district for electronics. He wouldn't buy the flashy new stuff; he'd hunt for refurbished parts.
Ren grabbed his jacket. "Time to stimulate the economy."
[The Spire – Sylvia's Office]
Sylvia was in the middle of a hostile takeover meeting with a rival bio-tech firm when her notification light blinked.
[ALERT: ASSET R IS MOVING TOWARD TECH-ROW.]
She immediately muted the rival CEO, who was mid-sentence about stock options.
"He's going shopping," Sylvia noted, her eyes lighting up. "Finally. He's been using that garbage soldering iron for three years. It hurts my soul to watch."
She tapped her desk. A holographic map of Tech-Row appeared.
"AI, identify the store Ren is most likely to visit."
"Calculating based on Asset R's frugality patterns," the AI responded. "Target identified: 'Gizmo's Discount Electronics'. It is a reputable shop known for bargain bins."
Sylvia smiled. A predatory, corporate smile.
"Purchase 'Gizmo's Discount Electronics'. Immediately."
"Buying the inventory, ma'am?"
"No. Buy the building. Buy the brand. Buy the owner's mortgage. And tell the staff that if they charge Ren more than ten credits for anything, I will replace their skeletons with gelatin."
"Executing Hostile Takeover. Time to completion: 30 seconds."
Sylvia unmuted the rival CEO. "—and that is why we refuse to sell!" the man shouted.
"I'm bored," Sylvia said, cutting the call. "Liquidate his company."
She turned back to the map of Tech-Row. "Happy shopping, Ren."
[Gizmo's Discount Electronics]
Ren walked into the shop. It smelled like burning plastic and ozone—the smell of home.
Usually, Gizmo's was packed with scavengers fighting over copper wire. Today, it was weirdly empty. The shelves were fully stocked. The floor had been mopped.
Behind the counter stood Gizmo himself, a greasy mechanic with a robotic eye. Today, Gizmo was wearing a tuxedo. A tuxedo that was clearly three sizes too small, straining at the buttons.
He was sweating buckets.
"Welcome!" Gizmo shrieked, his voice cracking. "Valued Customer! Welcome to the... uh... Customer Appreciation Sale!"
Ren looked around. "Uh, hey Gizmo. Why are you dressed like a penguin? Did you lose a bet?"
"No!" Gizmo laughed hysterically, glancing at a security camera in the corner. "I am just... respecting the sanctity of commerce! What do you need? Take it! I mean... buy it! Cheaply!"
Ren narrowed his eyes. "Okay... I need a new Multi-Tool. Preferably one that can handle Class-C electronics."
"A Multi-Tool?" Gizmo rushed to the back counter. "We have just the thing! It just came in. It's... uh... 'Refurbished'."
Gizmo pulled out a sleek, matte-black case. He opened it.
Inside lay the Omni-Key MK-VII.
It wasn't a tool. It was a military-grade engineering wand capable of hacking secure doors, welding starship hulls, and brewing coffee. It was standard issue for Imperial Engineers in the year 3000 (a timeline technology that Sylvia had 'invented' early).
Ren stared at it. It hummed with power.
"Gizmo," Ren said slowly. "This looks expensive. This looks like it fell off a government truck."
"No! No!" Gizmo wiped his forehead. "It's... a knock-off! A cheap Chinese copy! Look, the paint is scratched!"
Gizmo took a screwdriver and desperately scratched the pristine casing of the priceless tool.
"See?" Gizmo wheezed. "Damaged goods! Garbage! I'll sell it to you for... five credits."
Ren's jaw dropped. "Five credits? For a working Omni-Tool?"
"It has a bad battery!" Gizmo lied. "And it swears at you in Russian sometimes! Please take it!"
Ren picked up the tool. It felt perfectly balanced.
"Well," Ren grinned. "If it's junk, I guess I can take it off your hands. I can probably fix the battery."
He placed five credits on the counter.
Gizmo looked like he wanted to cry with relief. "Thank you. Please leave a five-star review. My life depends on it."
Just as Ren was about to put the tool in his pocket, the shop door chimed.
"Hold it right there, trash."
Ren turned around.
Standing in the doorway was a young man in a white suit. He had slicked-back hair and was flanked by two bodyguards. This was Chadwick Sterling, a distant nephew of the Sterling family (no relation to Sylvia's main branch, but he liked to pretend).
Chadwick pointed at the Omni-Key in Ren's hand.
"That," Chadwick sneered. "I saw it through the window. That's a MK-VII. That's military prototype tech. What is a slum-rat doing with it?"
Ren held the tool closer. "I bought it. Fair and square. Five credits."
"Five credits?" Chadwick scoffed. "Gizmo, you idiot. I'll give you five thousand. Hand it over."
Gizmo turned pale. "Mr. Chadwick... the item is sold. The transaction is complete. The receipt is printed!"
"Tear up the receipt," Chadwick snapped. He walked up to Ren and shoved him. "Hand it over, peasant. You wouldn't even know how to turn it on."
Ren stumbled back. Great. Just when things were going well.
"Look, man," Ren said, trying to de-escalate. "There's plenty of other tools here—"
"I want that one," Chadwick whined. He signaled his bodyguards. "Take it from him. And break his fingers so he doesn't steal again."
The bodyguards stepped forward.
Ren griped the Omni-Key. Maybe I can throw it and run?
Suddenly, the shop's large display screen—which usually played ads for batteries—flickered.
A giant red eye appeared on the screen.
[ATTENTION: CHADWICK STERLING.]
The voice was synthesized, booming through the shop's speakers. It sounded like God was angry.
Chadwick froze. "What?"
[YOUR CREDIT CARDS HAVE BEEN DECLINED.]
Chadwick blinked. "What? That's impossible. I have a platinum limit!"
[YOUR TRUST FUND HAS BEEN REVOKED.]
"Excuse me?!"
[YOUR CAR OUTSIDE HAS BEEN REPORTED STOLEN. POLICE DRONES ARE EN ROUTE. ETA: 10 SECONDS.]
Outside the shop, sirens began to wail.
[ADDITIONALLY,] the voice continued, dripping with malice, [YOUR INTERNET SEARCH HISTORY HAS JUST BEEN SENT TO YOUR MOTHER.]
Chadwick's face went from pale to pure white. "NO! NOT THE SEARCH HISTORY!"
"Run!" Chadwick screamed at his bodyguards. "We have to get to the embassy!"
The "young master" turned and sprinted out of the shop, diving into his hover-car just as police drones swarmed the street.
Ren stood in the silence of the shop.
"Wow," Ren said, blinking. "Karma is really fast in this sector."
He looked at Gizmo. "Your security system is intense, Gizmo. Is that an anti-theft AI?"
Gizmo, who knew exactly whose voice that was on the speakers, was currently hiding under the counter.
"Yes!" Gizmo's voice squeaked from the floor. "Very advanced! Now please go! Before the sale ends!"
Ren shrugged. "Okay. Thanks for the tool!"
He walked out of the shop, pocketing the S-Rank technology.
As he walked down the street, the Omni-Key in his pocket vibrated. A small holographic interface projected onto his palm.
[BOOT SEQUENCE COMPLETE.] [HELLO, USER: REN.] [I AM 'OMNI'. I HAVE BEEN OPTIMIZED FOR YOUR BIOSIGNATURE.] [CURRENT BATTERY LEVEL: 10,000 YEARS.]
Ren tapped the device. "Ten thousand years? Man, Gizmo really didn't know what he had. Glitched readout, obviously. I'll recalibrate it later."
Ren whistled, disappearing into the crowd.
[The Spire]
Sylvia watched Chadwick get arrested on her monitor. She took a sip of tea.
"Nephew or not," she said coldly. "Nobody interrupts my shopping spree."
She looked at the feed of Ren walking away with his new toy.
"Now he has the key," she whispered. "Next, he needs the armor. Viper, are you in position?"
"Always," Viper's voice crackled. "The Tailor is ready."
Sylvia smiled. "Good. Let's get him a suit."