When you run out of probes, the only thing left to do is to go look for yourself. Being a belter wasn’t like they made it look on the vid’s. Handsome men, with good teeth and full heads of hair bravely searching the asteroids for precious metals and a beautiful alien girl in every starbase.

Well it had been nineteen months, six days and, he looked at the clock, seven hours since he left Phobos prime. Since then he had surveyed a dozen astroids, and collected the minimal payment from the Ares Corp for that useless info. He was tired of the recycled air, recycled food, recycled crap. He was losing his hair and his teeth hurt and gums bled when he chewed the recycled crackers.

Ahead of him was the target for this month. He lined it up in the sights and fired a slug at it. When it hit, the spray of debris could be analyzed to determine the chemical makeup. Not that he ever scored big.

At least not until now.

15 seconds after impact the readout confirmed he won the lottory. 10^7 metric tons of water ice.