"The Sam's Last Chance Number Nine Mining Company is a duly chartered firm. Their claim is valid."
"I know that hole-in-corner concern," Leatherwell snapped. "Mere irresponsible opportunists. General Minerals has spent millions—millions, I say—of the stockholders' funds in minerals explorations. Are they to be balked in realizing a fair return on their investment because these ... these ... adventures have stumbled on a deposit? Not that the property is of any real value, of course," he added. "Quite an ordinary bit of rock. But General Minerals would find it convenient to consolidate its holdings."
"There are plenty of other rocks floating around in the Belt. Why not—"
"One moment, Retief," Magnan cut in. He looked across the desk at his junior with a severe expression. "As Consul-General, I'm quite capable of determining the relative merits of claims. As Mr. Leatherwell has pointed out, it's in the public interest to consider the question in depth."
Leatherwell cleared his throat. "I might state at this time that General Minerals is prepared to be generous in dealing with these interlopers. I believe we would be prepared to go so far as to offer them free title to certain GM holdings in exchange for their release of any alleged rights to the property in question—merely to simplify matters, of course."
"That seems more than fair to me," Magnan glowed.
"The Sam's people have a clear priority," Retief said. "I logged the claim in last Friday."
"They have far from a clear title." Leatherwell snapped. "And I can assure you GM will contest their claim, if need be, to the Supreme Court!"
"Just what holdings did you have in mind offering them, Mr. Leatherwell?" Magnan asked nervously.
Leatherwell reached into his briefcase and drew out a paper.