To: Zoner/OSI Administration - Freeport 14, Yukon
From: Zhenya Sannikov [CommID: keygen.exe] - Ames Research Station, Kepler
RE: Data Storage & Security
To whom it may concern:
Your shiny new Freeport 14 station in Yukon is top notch. Very slick. Very clean! Quiet, too.
My regards to your engineers and architects.
I'd love to purchase some storage space there, namely data storage. Only a small partition on an independent server, just a few petabytes. Nothing fancy.
I have a lot of information i'll be gathering out in the universe, and want a nice, safe, central location to receive and store it. Your Freeport 14 data systems employ cutting-edge security systems (I checked), and this fact coupled with your nature of nigh-neutrality makes your spiffy space station my "glass slipper"!
I've tried storing my database locally of course, but the universe is an unsafe place, at best. Wars here and there, invading Houses, pirates, thieves, brain-stealing parasitic varmints. Lasers. Mines. You see where i'm going with this.
I'll of course need full (read: sole) administrator rights over the little partition, as it's kinda confidential for the time being. I trust YOU folks of course, but you never know who else might want to put their grubby little paws on your juicy bits (and bytes). I don't care how you isolate the space, it can be a stand-alone lonely little server in a broom closet, or a partition off your larger superfarm units. Whatever seems more comfortable for you.
So! Mull it over, and see if you can force yourselves to make a fair amount of income by giving up a speck-sized portion of your storage space for an indefinite amount of time. I'd love to strike a mutually-satisfying deal in the near future.
Quote me some pricing options, and/or let me allay any concerns you might have.
Greetings, this is an odd inquiry. We aren't in the business of data storage, so we'll be of no help to you in that department. However, we do have a local here on Freeport 14 under contract to assist our own information technology department regarding the security of our own data center. Perhaps he could be of some assistance to you; his name is Jon Brighton. You'll find his storefront on the main level of the trade bazaar.
My thanks for your prompt reply, and reference to Mr. Brighton as an avenue to pursue.
I spent a few hours in your bazaar, but seem to have missed the gentleman in question. I did however find a woman selling some fantastic baked goods from the border worlds. A treat, to be sure.
Would you think it best for me to contact Mr. Brighton through these same closed-channel pipelines we're using now? If so, should I reference him by name, or does he have a business moniker I should include?
The display clears; a bleak, greying room comes into view, near blocked out in its entirety by stacks of old circuitboards and cables.
The audio tunes in; loud wheezing piercing the silence, like a breaker through Omicroner ICE.
"Jesus christ... shoulda fricken known. 'Paid vacation', they said." Wheezing and coughing. "No wonder it's bloody paid..."
Crashes of tumbling radio equipment. A face comes into view; but not of the real world. No, the transmission was tunneled through cyberspace, Brighton's icon beaming bright on the screen.
"So you want storage space, do you?" More wheezing.
"What for? Stashing exploits? Stolen military data? Backdooring our systems and selling the codes to some opportunistic jingle-pocket?"
Pause.
"Tell you what, kid.
Tell me just how this little setup of yours is gonna help my Freeport any. Then, tell me just why exactly I ought to take time out of my busy freakin' schedule for some nobody. You register? Good."
"Oh, another thing. How about slipping some of that 'information' of yours in too, for... verification.
Be quick with it. Sys'minning a Freeport's a busy job... not like you'd know."
To: Jon Brighton [ZyklonB] - Freeport 14, Yukon
From: Zhenya Sannikov [CommID: keygen.exe] - Ames Research Station, Kepler
RE: Data Storage & Security
I certainly wouldn't want to be in your position; too much stress.
Mouth-breathing, ham-fisted simians swatting randomly at keyboards and control panels; and wanting instant-fixes when they end up breaking the merchandise.
I get hives just thinking about it.
Speaking of merchandise!
I'm flattered that you have a strong interest in obtaining access to my little "hunter-gatherer" data project. This isn't a charity i'm running here after all, and certainly expect to get paid for the end results of my efforts.
HOWEVER, end-result is the key here. The crux, if you will. The keystone.
During this initial period of my building the database itself, i'm not in a position to share the little parts and pieces. Your Zoner operation will certainly get first rights of refusal on the final result, I can guarantee you of that.
But i'm not gonna sell you the eggs and milk for my yummy cake recipe - when I can charge a premium for the finished pastry. Get it? What i'm lacking here is the oven. A place to let the data cook for a while. Your Freeport ovens I hear are top-notch devices.
As for helping your shiny new Yukon station (and your personal bottom line, perhaps?), my offer is the least common Sirius denominator; moolah.
It's liquid, it's universal, and all the hip kids are using it.
You get paid a sum that is commensurate with allocating me a private, protected partition - that you simply forget exists until i'm through with it.
I can assure you that no data I store will be from an "official Zoner" person or vessel. I can also allay your fears to a back-door agent, as none of my data contains compiled programs. It's just raw information. The good-old fashioned kind.
Now, I can message you back-and-forth for the next few weeks about the particulars of X, or the subtleties of Y, or the intricities of Z, but we both know it's a waste of our time.
In old earthian; "when two pastry chefs meet, they need no introduction".
You know exactly what i'm after - and there's either a number you'll quote me, or a refusal you'll grant me. (Now, get ready: this is where you put on your special glasses that can read between the polarized lines of your monitor.) So long as my data stays safe and private on your Zoner station, I have no interest in the Zoners.
Wish *I* got a vacation.
Maybe i'll treat myself to a holiday after my baking is done.
The transmission opens with sputtering static and swirling colors. As the image clears, a familiar non-face takes the plate.
"Fine. You said you want data storage; we've spared a six petabyte dead storage unit for your use. Dead as it is, you'll be wanting to connect directly to it. And, of course, it's entirely isolated."
The transmission changes views to a shot of a corridor, lined with square hatches.
"Now, as you're going to need physical access to the thing, we've arranged for living quarters as well. It ain't exactly first class, but you aren't exactly paying for it either, right? Consider it a bonus."
"The fees. Well, we've mulled over it; a sum of three million credits on a monthly basis should suffice. Any problem with that... maybe we can work something out."
** The transmission flickers out, leaving naught but a faint hum... **
** "... nobody doesn't like molten boron ..." **