Marshall disliked clutter but he had a large uranium glass dish on his desk in which his collection of styli resided. The yellow cut glass shone in the light from his displays and reflected light back and forth from some of the souvenirs he kept in there for his amusement. One item which gleamed towards the front of the dish was a small base metal statue of a penguin. No more than an inch high, its glossy plumage was styled in black, white and gold enamel, with a tiny legend across its snowy chest, saying simply 'café', in memory of a travelling orchestra which had visited in the planet's early and more promising days.
Using his computer, Marshall was able to identify the locations of not just the local shipping, but also all of his staff and free-lance employees, by the tags that they wore. This helped him trace individuals if their assistance was required in another part of the plant and, in the rare event of any sort of accident, everyone could be either accounted for or rescued. There was a convention used at the base, that anyone not wishing to give away their location during their leisure activities would leave their tag in a dish on the bar of Moses' Place, the only watering hole on the base, and the only one which possessed a FBIS licence to sell alcoholic beverages. Why it was called Moses' Place, no-one knew. It had been so since the earliest settlement, when the repair shop had been the landing field for space ships bringing colonists. The bar had changed hands many times since it was begun but always the name had stuck, although oft-times it was abbreviated to 'Mo's' or 'Old Mo's', as in the not infrequently used refrain, "See you in Mo's 'bout nine o'clock".
Marshall had heard enough about the FBIS database to believe that it was infallible. It also contained the licences for all places selling alcohol. If you didn't have a licence, you could be sure that from time to time, a FBIS agent would turn up to check if all your drinks were alcohol-free. Places which had licences were pretty likely to go uninspected for decades. What the purpose of the licences was no one knew because payment of a moderate fee for registration was all that was required. Many folks said that FBIS only maintained the register of licensees because it was traditional and because it gave them an excuse to poke around where they were least wanted and least expected. There was also the question of fines, which some ancient law said must be paid both by the proprietor of unlicensed premises, and by anyone caught frequenting them for the consumption of alcohol. It was not at all unknown for FBIS agents to stake out an unlicensed premises until they had photographic evidence of hundreds of customers indulging in illicit beverages.
Marshall was under no illusion that he had to have both his salvage and his repairs businesses licenced. He also had no desire to host another visit by FBIS. Marshall's family had tried to cover themselves against the unwanted attentions of FBIS by refusing trade with any captain who couldn't produce the correct paperwork for ownership of his vessel or who was at all vague about the precise nature of his cargo. In addition, they had gone out of their way to employ staff whose credentials were impeccable.
Marshall had one licensed test pilot on his payroll who was also one of the company's most long-serving and reliable operatives. It was her job to ensure that any ship passing out of the Junker's Moon dock was space-worthy before take-off. No ship was ever dispatched until Judith had scanned every joint, bulkhead and plate. External checks were always carried out but they were no substitute for immersion in hard vacuum. It was too expensive to pressure test on-site because the cost of a vacuum tank large enough to take even the smallest vessel was prohibitive. Judith, therefore, would pilot each vessel into close orbit, just outside the atmosphere. Wearing a space-suit, she would manually check each compartment before signing it over to its captain.
Such a capable woman was one Marshall consulted regularly for her wisdom and experience of all things relating to day-to-day operations at Junker's Moon. By the same token, she was far too wise and self-sufficient a lady to be available for early morning conversation outside of working hours.