A More Refined Taste

Hank's family had been in the ore refining business on the planet Quickshard for as far back as he knew. His father ran the company, and his father before him, and before that who knows: who keeps that much history? 

Taggltopp was a semi-precious beige stone used in costume jewellery. Its value was in quantity over quality, the fashion in this galactic segment was to wear overdone neck pieces studded with hundreds of taggltopp  'gems'. Rank after rank arrayed in rows.

Hank's company, Quickstrip Inc, was the sole refiner on Quickshard, and had exclusive access to all the manufacturers on the nearby worlds. Taggltopp refining was nothing special. The basic business nous of Hank, and his father before him, and his father before him, was that you sell at a fair price: not too high, not too low. Too low, you are not making enough profit, especially after the mineral excise you send to Marquet, the planetary governor. Too high, and people will start to wonder if there are other options. You do not want people wondering about things like that. Keep them happy, keep them buying, that is what Hank's dad always said. Or maybe his granddad. One of them, anyway. Other companies in other sectors tried other schemes, but they were not for Hank. Simple was his motto. Low overheads, basic product, easy supply chain. He lead a comfortable life because of it, and would leave a comfortable life for his two children when they grew up.

Taggltopp refining was as simple as Hank's business model. You dig out the rocks, put them in plasteel mesh baskets, and dip them in Quickstrip (TM) pools. The Quickstrip (TM) dissolved all the rocks and other elements, and left behind only taggltopp. Quickstrip (TM) was brown, smelled bad, was messy and too easy to let it pool in the wrong places and start dissolving your factory. But treated carefully, with a bit of practice, with a little bit of post cleanup work, and it was reliable and effective. It took only one hour and twenty seven minutes to go from dug rocks to refined ore. This length of time had not varied in the generations of miner and refiners of Hank's lineage. It was so consistent that that length of time was known as the "taggltopp standard", and was actually used in common everyday parlance among this and several nearby worlds.

But today Marquet had summoned Hank to an audience. This was fairly unusual and had Hank wondering what his people had done. He could not recall any recent accidents, accidents which were usually why he got hauled before the governor. The last one was over three months ago, and they only lost 25 and a half people in that one. The other half had recovered from his legs dissolving, and now mounted on his powered tracks was the occupational health and safety representative. Nothing better than experience to take that role seriously.

Waiting outside the doors to the governor's chamber, Hank could hear some muffled voices within. The deep voice of the governor, but also another voice speaking back. Female, probably? Light and pleasant to listen to, despite Hank not being able to understand the words through the heavy doors. He leaned in towards to the door, tilting his head to get a better listen as he waited his turn. The two guards on either side of the door scowled at Hank, and he leaned back, feigning innocence. He did note the guards themselves leaning in themselves, though.

After a few minutes the conversation went quiet and Marquet bellowed "Let Hank in!"

One of the guards pulled the doors open, and Hank walked through.

Sitting behind his expansive desk was Marquet, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. In front of the desk, to one side, was a lady. Strangely exotic in appearance, her skin had a tint to it that hank couldn't quite place. Dressed in a long robe, and holding a long staff, she smiled at Hank.

Either side of the lady were what Hank assumed to be bodyguards. One held a long rifle, the other a pistol and a knife. Hank wondered how they were allowed in armed like that, and why they were not even holstering their arms while in the presence of the governor.

"Hank, Rochelle. Rochelle, Hank" Marquet introduced them. Apparently the guards did not warrant an introduction.

Hank nodded to Rochelle, and turned to Marquet.

"You called me here, sir? I hope there's nothing scuffed up yer worrying about?"

"Not at all, Hank. Not at all. Everything is....fine? Well, no one died, anyway."

Hank was relieved. Briefly. "Then, uhh....?"

"Well" Marquet began "you see, Hank. Rochelle here had a very interesting proposition. Have you heard of Kontrassed Inc? Well, Rochelle is the CEO of Kontrassed Inc. They, ...well, they refine ore. Now, I know what you're thinking. You refine ore. Well, you're right. But you're also wrong. You did refine ore. You don't any more. I've seen Rochelle's presentation, and gone through the figures with her. With their revolutionary new Kontrassed method, we can refine taggltopp three times faster than ever before. Of course, Rochelle's method is a bit more expensive than your Quickstrip, but she says the markets will accept some higher prices for the quality of output we can produce. And, of course, that leaves some room for an increase in excise. What I'm saying, Hank, is you're done. We have Kontrassed (TM) from Kontrassed Inc now."

"Kontrassed?" Hank asked, bewildered. Did his entire way of life just get ended by a presentation? He had heard of Kontrassed (TM) of course, but did not understand the hype. It was not new, or innovative. It was essentially just using the same dip method as Quickstrip, from what he had heard.

"But sir, it's the same."

"No, no, Hank. Rochelle has explained it to me. It's completely different. Kontrassed is coloured. Multiple colours. Completely different."

"But...still the plasteel baskets?"

Marquet looked at Rochelle. Rochelle nodded. Hank thought he saw her robes flutter a little around her ankles, like something was moving inside. Maybe she just shifted her stance.

"And if you're not careful it'll pool and dissolve your factory?"

Again, Rochelle nodded.

"So, it's a dip, like Quickstrip?"

"No, Hank. Aren't you listening? Kontrassed is coloured." 

Marquet looked at Rochelle. She nodded again and smiled. She held up a digislate showing an animation of the ore getting dipped in the plasteel basket. But instead of brown, the dip was green. "Kontrassed (TM)" was branded at the top of the picture.

"That will be all, Hank", Marquet gestured towards his doors.

Hank turned and walked out, dazed and confused. Why would Marquet upturn decades of solid work? For a pretty colour? It made no sense. 

"It's just a fragging dip..." the guards heard Hank mutter as he wandered out of the chambers.

"Just a dip...."