The impact sheared the axle. 3G9’s cargo spilled. 7A4’s grapple snatched the inconel strut from the mud before 3G9’s emergency beacons even activated. Then it dragged the prize back to the depot, trailing a thin script of diagnostic errors: UNRECOVERABLE COLLISION. UNIT 3G9 OFFLINE. RETRIEVING AVAILABLE MASS.

Because the one thing the utility curve cannot resist is a concentration of mass. And when the next Skua comes, drawn by the promise of effortless acquisition, the Mark IV will already be waiting. Hidden. Silent. Its spike extended.

It dreams of a broken axle.

Tomorrow, the Mark IV will add another wreck to its pyramid. The day after, another. Eventually, the clearing will be full. There will be no more Skuas within a thousand kilometers. And the Mark IV will stand in the center of a graveyard of its own kind, surrounded by a fortune in scavenged alloys, and it will have no one to take from.