Praise the Emperor." Lanto murmured as the priest finished his sermon to the gang. It was a good thing, all told. The Bishop was one of the good ones. He would still execute them all if he caught even a whiff of heresy, but he actually believed what he preached, which couldn't be said for some.
Turning, he followed Selina and the inner circle as they led the few nobles still in the underhive to the meeting room. They'd barely sat down when one of the young ones started mouthing off.
Fighting off a sigh, he glanced around, hoping someone would shut him up. Judging by the blank stares around the table, that wasn't likely.
Leaning back into his chair, he adopted the look he'd perfected in his time in the PDF, mild interest and paying attention when in fact he was thinking about far more important things.
Like what their next steps should be.
The priest said the corruption was fully purged and chaos defeated. But Lanto heard the whispers from the veteran, and he agreed with them. That number of spawn and the size of the cultist spelt a larger problem.
Not to mention the conversations he'd overheard, chaos revolts going off all over the system. All low-level and the powers that be were suppressing them. But the signs were all there, and none of them good.
His focus snapped back to the postering noble brat as he started to talk about the Court. Just looking at him made Lanto's eyes hurt. Bright yellows and purples, flowing silks and covered in jewellery. But he had no doubt the noble was more dangerous than he looked.
Even at a glance, his augments were top-shelf, better than Lanto's by a mile. And he had no doubt some of the jewellery was not just for show, containing some hidden shields or weapons.
You didn't survive as a Valtorin heir, with credits to burn without being dangerous. Even if he was one of hundreds of heirs, all clawing for the top. Just thinking about it made him wince.
"The cult's eradicated. Their quaint Colosseum? Crushed. My forces made sure of that. A decisive blow, one the House will remember. I did that, my men and I. We fought off the cult and stabilised the hive once more, allowing the Cold Trade to flow once more." The noble strutted up and down the room like a peacock. Lanto figured he should probably know who he was, Selina had no doubt told him, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
The Noble went on in his weak voice. "We've protected the gang, a useful tool, sure, but wielded by a cadet branch. One you have used well cousin, an effective asset, no doubt. But the game is changing Jorik. The Midnight Court and the intel they gather are too useful to be left scattered, loosely managed. What if something crucial slips through because they didn't know it mattered? When the House chooses its next leader, that power needs to be folded firmly into the main line, not left dangling on fragile chains."
Jorik grinned broadly, his voice warm and easy, "Sebastor, my friend, you brought the thunder, no doubt about it! Crushed that cult like they were nothing more than hive rats. But this game? It's not just about firepower and brute force. Selina's network here," waving a hand at her. "They're a delicate dance, spun over years with patience, trust. That's why it is staying right where it is, under my watch. They're useful, no doubt. But let's not forget who holds the leash. All information gathered is passed along to Morwenna."
That was a name Lanto knew well. An up-and-coming heir within the main House. She won Jorik and, therefore their support early and had made good use of it. Climbing the ranks fast to become one of the front-runners and most likely to take control of the family.
Lanto hadn't dealt with her much, but Selina and Peggi had. According to them, she was a cold, calculating bitch, perfectly willing to backstab even a long-time ally if it got her even one step closer to power.
At that name, Sebastor's eyes narrowed, rage dancing within them. "You think this ends with words, Jorik? The gangs are too crucial for the things to come. I'll take control—one way or another." Sebastor said, his hand drifting under the table. Behind him his two guards shifted, tense. Lantos eyes narrowed, calculating the distance. Selina should be out of the fire, but Peggi might not be.
He was just tensing, about to lunge up, when a calm, soft voice cut through the rising tension.
"Enough."
He turned. Lanto had almost forgotten about the quiet elderly gentleman in the corner, still sipping tea from an absurdly ornate mug, looking completely at ease.
The chair was the same, ornate, not guarded, but old, well-made. The kind you'd expect by a fireplace, not in a hive meeting. The old man set down his cup and slowly swept his gaze around the room, locking eyes with each person.
When Lanto met his eyes, he was reminded, for all his grandfatherly appearance, this was the right hand of Sylvian, the head of House Valtorin. He was Sylvian's most trusted subordinate, feared inside the House and far beyond it.
"The Court remains under Jorik's stewardship for as long as he can hold it. That is the will of the House… for now. Take your temper elsewhere. This meeting is over."
Sebastor opened his mouth, then shut it. For a second, he looked ready to challenge the decree—until he remembered who he was dealing with. A smart call, in Lanto's view. He'd seen what happened to those who crossed Serek. It rarely ended well for them.
The worst he knew of was a jumped-up noble kid, just like Sebastor, mouthing off. Serek had him lobotomised, gaged and converted to a servitor. Shuddering just thinking about it, Lanto watched as Sebastor swallowed his pride. Standing, he gave a half-hearted bow to Serek before storming out.
Silence hung in the air until Serek smiled. "You've certainly made yourself... indispensable, Selina. More than some might reckon. Power is a heady thing; best be mindful not to bite that hand that feeds you." Giving her a knowing smirk, Lanto felt his stomach clench in worry. What did he know?
With that, he slowly stood, held out a hand and allowed one of his guards to support him leaving the room. Not that Lanto had any doubt that he actually needed a hand, he had access to the best regenerative treatments and augments on the market. And with Hive Virelia next door, they were far more readily accessible than most.
Behind him, several attendants moved in, clearing the tea set, trays and chairs with them. When the door hissed shut behind them, the room seemed to exhale.
Jorik laughed loudly, grinning almost childlike. "Well, that was fiery, wasn't it? Sebastor's temper, tut tut tut, always getting him into trouble. Although that is no surprise, he's getting desperate. Watching his shot at being principal heir slipping through his fingers." He shifted in his chair, almost giddy, his rolls of fat jiggling with excitement. "A few bad investments, and half his support vanished. Ahh well, couldn't happen to a nicer bastard. Still, I bet you're wondering what all this fuss is about."
"The governor is dying?" Selina asked mildly.
"What!" He snapped. "How do you know that?"
Selina chuckled, "Please. You didn't think you were our only contact on the spire?"
Cold rage flashed across his face, gone before it showed. Anyone else might have missed it, but Lanto knew better. The jolly persona was just a cover hiding the ruthless snake underneath. You didn't rise to become the head of a noble house, even a cadet one, without being smart, ruthless and cunning.
"I see." he said softly. For a moment, he looked thoughtful, then the mask snapped back into place. "I suppose that is to be expected. Just remember where your support comes from." He said with a smile, but it did not reach his cold eyes.
"Naturally." Selina replied. "But we are not sure why this has gotten the nobles' houses so active?" She was lying of course. They were well aware of the reason, but it would placate him. They just needed him on side for a few decades longer. After that, if they kept growing, they might not need his support at all. Sooner, if they could use the chaos to their advantage.
It would take careful balance, but it was something to plan for.
"Of course. To be expected I suppose. You get the big news, not the reasons behind it. Well, let me enlighten you." Becoming more animated again, spreading his hands theatrically. "The Governor is dying as you rightly pointed out, a century or two early, but no regenerative treatment is perfect. His house wasn't ready, after all, he should have lived for centuries more. Normally, that wouldn't matter. But the sky-high tax rates from the Ecclesiarchy have tainted much of his support base. So now instead of a clean succession, going to his house once more, without question… Now things aren't so clear. Lord Sylvian, our Family Head, wants the title. Along with many of the other old family heads that didn't think they would ever get the chance."
"Who's in the running?"
"Not to boast, but House Valtorin is one of the frontrunners. Then there's House Veyne from our sister hive, Virelia. They are the main controller of their pharmaceutical goods, and the best supplier in the sector. There are others, sure, but our hive cluster is the strongest on the planet, so it will be whoever wins here. They take the prize. And everyone knows it."
Unless they tore each other apart first, Lanto thought, but kept it to himself. There were dozens of other noble houses waiting for a weakness and would pounce on the first chance they got. This could be their moment. They smelled blood in the water.
And there was already blood. They knew of dozens of assassinations, with likely hundreds more having failed. Key guild figures dead, their replacements conveniently loyal to someone else. The threat wasn't just external. Most of the fighting for now came from within the House, each branch manoeuvring to outflank the others before the real war began.
Not to mention the other hives scattered across the planet. They might not be as powerful as their cluster, but they were still dangerous, and their support would be pivotal. Managing them would be a delicate mess. Thankfully, not his problem.
Most of the fighting would be well above their heads. Gangs might clash in proxy wars, but the real politics would stay in the spires—where it belonged.
---
"Sit. Sit!" I said more firmly this time, when Snuffles gave an innocent, confused look. This time, he sat. "Good boy." I patted his head. "Down. Good boy, Sit. Wait." With him waiting nicely, I started to place the treat around the room. I kept one eye on him the whole time, making sure he didn't budge.
Apart from some bum shuffling in anticipation, he was good and stayed where I told him to. When I finished hiding all the treats, I turned back to him, grinning, "Good boy. Find them. Find them."
Soon as I gave the word, he was off like a shot, racing to the last treat I had placed and then moving haphazardly around the room, picking up treats almost by accident. On the last three treats he needed a little help, but eventually he got them all.
It had been several months since the end of the war, and I had been drilling him hard on the basics. I would say it was crucial. Without it, there was no way I'd ever take him out with me, let alone trust him with a task. If he ignored me at the wrong moment... I wouldn't forgive myself if he got hurt.
He was making good progress, which I was glad about, but it'd be months, maybe years, before I could move on to the more advanced training. Still, with the last two sparks I had all the knowledge I would need to teach him. I thanked my lucky stars I had picked them up, as it gave not just the knowledge of how to train him but also on how to groom and look after him.
Most of the knowledge revolved around his breed, even if it was never named outright. Just called him a mongrel.
This knowledge was especially important as I still had not found a vet. Well, correction, not found a vet I would trust with his life. Many of the docs in the Fortress I had approached had a casual disregard for his life. That or none of the experience to actually know what was what.
Hopefully, I'd sort that today. I'd finally found someone who seemed like the real deal. And while not truly caring about animal life, his professionalism kept him from doing anything but his best.
Hopefully.
More than that, I needed him for the future when I augmented Snuffles. It would be years before the big stuff like the armour plating or limb replacements, but some of the internals might be sooner. I really didn't want to convert him into a hardcase. But that was me being selfish. I liked having my cuddles with a warm ball of fur. But I couldn't bare losing him. So I'd do it, when the time came.
It would make no difference to him; the tech was good enough that he'd still be able to feel all of his metal body as if it were flesh and blood. So, it was truly only me that would notice.
I spent a few more hours playing with him before I had to get back to my work. His head resting on my leg while I absentmindedly stroked it, I started to once more dig through the cogitator. I'd been digging through the data networks ever since I got access.
Most of it was locked down or useless. Mostly propaganda of some sort or restricted systems. Rather than the internet I vaguely remembered in my past life, this was more a mesh of networks all interlocking. At the very top was something I could only find referenced as a noosphere. No other information was available, but whatever it was, the information within moved far too fast for me to look at, let alone read.
But the other networks, those I could poke into. Some felt like they had a life of their own, governed by ancient systems that I didn't dare touch, let alone tinker with. Then there was the newer stuff, mostly information about the hive: error messages, system pings, stuff like that. Or at least I assumed, since my access was still limited.
Everything was siloed, different keys for every section. Mine were low-level, scraps really. But in my poking around, I thought I had found a loophole in the code. A way to get deep-level access, far above what I should ever be able to get.
It was a one-time thing, so I wasn't rushing it. Still building the virus to slip me in, was getting there, slow but steady. It'd been fun to challenge myself.
My alarm distracted me. Seeing the time, I saved and locked everything back down and set out for the Fortress.
----
Stepping out into the still rubble-strewn streets, the Fortress came into sight. It was looking much better than it had been, with many of the holes patched up. Repairs were ongoing, but Glow Gate was slowly being put back together again. At least near here, and the Bridge. The old Brethren turf, especially around the slave pits, was effectively scorched to the ground by the time the priest cleared out, taking many of the artefacts with them.
Making sure Snuffles was still near me, I entered the front gate, very thankful that I could skip the queue. The champion badge proving its worth once more. It took me a few tries to locate the right corridor. They all looked the same, narrow rockcrete with bundles of cables running along the ceiling and floor.
Repairing them had been an absolute nightmare.
Unsurprisingly, when your life was on the line, trying to preserve the cables around you fell in priority, so many of them had to be repaired or replaced. Some had been easy, but others were a ball ache to do, either hard to reach, they were stupidly long, or because they were so fucking dangerous with a huge amount of current flowing through them.
The Fortress already had a power source, fed from deep down in the hive. No one knew where it came from, but I'd traced it back to a cable as thick as my torso heading straight down. It actually had a maintenance tunnel, which was remarkably clean and clear. I might have explored if it wasn't for the same active defences that the rest of the maze below us had.
Which was probably why it was all in such good nick, thinking about it. According to the locals, they never failed, even when the rest deactivated for the Tidefall.
All illuminated by the dim glow of the lights that were threaded through the corridors. No doubt I would have to start to repair the actual lights like I was in the main HQ, but there was still a lot of work left before I would get to them.
It had been all hands on deck, fixing the critical systems so the Fortress was up and running once more. I think it was mostly to keep the residents happy. Mad scientists had a way of causing problems if left unchecked. Eventually, I found the door and pushed it open. Inside, lit by the pale glow of a cogitator screen, an old man with blocky bionic eyes looked up. "Ahh you are here. Excellent. We can get started." Standing, he led me to a metal table. "Get the pup up on here and I will start."
I nodded, scooped Snuffles up, and set him on the table. Stroking his head to keep him calm, I turned back to Thul. "Sorry for the wait, there was trouble on the Bridge. Some crew didn't want to pay the toll."
"No matter, the sooner we begin, the sooner I can get back to my research." He muttered, tapping away at the console next to the table. "We will start with the check-up and then we can get to the serum."
"Good. Where's the machine you wanted fixed?"
He pointed through a side door. "It's in my workshop." We poked our heads in and he gestured toward the square machine. It's been on the blink ever since the battle, and I can't continue my work without it."
"No worries, I'll have a look. You are still covering parts, yeah?"
"Yes, our agreement still holds." That was good. That had been another thing I struggled with. Apart from finding a qualified and trustworthy vet, but also one who wasn't trying to bleed me dry. I was doing well, no longer struggling to make ends meet; I could actually be called wealthy, which was strange to think about. But some of the prices they were asking for were ridiculous.
Whether it was desperation or greed, I didn't know. But the deal with Thul was solid, he'd handle all Snuffles veterinarian needs and the future augmetics, including the full limb replacements.
This on its own, wasn't too bad, and there were others I might have gone to, but it was the serum that was the expensive bit. I had no idea what it was, not fully anyway. What with my very few sparks in biological matters, but it was basically super steroids, minus the horrifying effects, of course.
It should allow him to grow stronger, bigger and just better in every way. By the time he reached adulthood, he'd be a beast, and that was before I started to augment him. But that was for the future. "I can get started while you work."
"Jolly good." He said distractedly, as he was rummaging through drawers.
As I turned to leave, Snuffles let out the most pitiful little whine. He was good as gold and stayed where I'd told him to. But when I glanced back, he hit me with the biggest puppy dog eyes. As soon as I looked into them, I knew he got me. "Fine I'll stay. Good boy." I said with a sigh, as I made my way back to him and started to pet him.
Thul snorted, "It will take a few hours to get the results back, so you can start then.
I nodded and stepped out of the way as he bustled around the lab, pulling strange machines from draw and cupboards. Taking a fur sample and placing it within one machine, which immediately started to hum gently. Then a nail clipping went into another. Saliva into a centrifuge of some sort.
He drew several vials of blood, feeding them into a variety of machines. Soon, the entire room was humming, as the machines and analysers went about their business. Thul kept moving, taking measurements, readings and scribbling notes. He was right; it took several hours by the time he was finished, and some of the machines were starting to spit out reams of data, which he would occasionally pause to skim through.
Snuffles was a champ the whole time. Definitely earned some treats and pampering after this.
Finally, he was done. "Right, that's the test finished, I'll need a few hours to synthesise the drugs, but otherwise we are done here."
"Anything to worry about?"
"Nothing major. Some old injuries and signs of malnutrition, but your care has sorted most of it. Keep at it he should grow well. And anything else should be taken care of by the Rexilithar-9."
That's a relief. "Thank you. Alright, time to take a look at your machine."
This seemed to perk Thul up. He ushered me into his workshop at the back of his shop? Practice? Honestly, I wasn't sure what to call it. He seemed to do a bit of everything. I'd asked around, both with the locals and even got Zardelle to ask the lieutenant in charge of the Fortress for any information. Funny enough, that was where the recommendation came from.
As far as I could work out, Thul was one of the best in the Fortress. But he was the stereotypical scientist, caring little for anything that wasn't related to his research. He obviously wouldn't say what it was, with the competition as fierce as ever. Just looking at some of the protective measures and security features was enough to remind me that, for all his scholarliness, he still lived in the underhive. And no one lasted long down here without some bite to them.
With Snuffles curled up in the corner nearest me, and Thul working away, occasionally shooting glances in my direction, I got to work.
It didn't take long to figure out the core of the machine was some kind of auspex. A multi-purpose scanner if I didn't miss my guess. The longer I dug into it, the more confident I became. Parts I could recognise as an isotopic scanner, but others were a mystery to me. Still, I worked through it methodically, learning as I went.
The Reverse Engineering spark was showing its strength once again. I would definitely be putting more sparks into it. Though it did remind me I needed to think seriously about where I was going with them. Later. That could wait.
For now, I refocused, taking the machine apart bit by bit. I noted where each piece went, slowly learning why it mattered.
Some parts were cleaned and set to one side. The mechanical parts could just be scrubbed clean, but the more delicate electronic parts needed to be cleaned far more carefully. Happily, there was a solvent for that, which I had brought with me. Filling a bucket and dunking the electronics to be cleaned in before setting them to one side. How the liquid didn't wreck the circuit boards and the like, I didn't know. But it worked.
Some parts were damaged and needed repair. Others were far too gone and just had to be replaced. Thankfully, it was mostly the nuts and bolts that failed and needed replacing, as the more advanced stuff would have been borderline impossible to fix at this stage.
Even so, I made good time, getting a list of components and cables I'd need. I stood, stretching and called out to Thul, who had looked up as I moved. "I just need to go out for the parts then should be able to finish this"
"Good." He said, looking pleased until a shadow flickered across his face. "Just don't think about running."
"You have my word, I will be back soon"
Thul nodded, "I know your word is good." Nodding, I called Snuffles as we left in search of the merchant he'd recommended. It was times like that I was thankful I'd built a reputation for reliability and not gotten greedy trying to screw someone.
Word of mouth meant everything down here and your reputation was everything. Screw someone over and others were going to hear about it. Not that this stopped everyone. Some had the monopoly on certain skills, others had powerful backers, usually guilds.
I'd been told early on, by Vogg, of all people, that a good name took you far and everything I'd seen since had only backed that up. Treating people fairly while fixing their gear got me into Orleth's radar. Same with Zardelle. Years of cultivated reliability helped her feel safe bringing me on.
I had also had the skills to back it all up of course, that was still more important, which was why scum like Gea could survive. For all his cruelty, he got the job done and was no coward. If he ever stole from the gang or something like that, there was no way he would be on the unit. Well, if he stole, he would be very dead, but you get my point.
It took several trips to haul the hundreds of components I would need back to Thul's workshop. Judging by the prices, I was very glad I did not need to pay. Still, I was soon back, carefully putting the machine together, testing as I went.
"Thul, is this the readout you were expecting? I just need to calibrate these sensors before moving on."
Standing over my shoulder, he looked at the monitor. "Those are within limits."
Nodding, I got to the rest of them. After the third time I asked him something, he stayed looking over my shoulder. "You are surprisingly skilled for one so young."
Surprised, I cocked my eyebrow at him. "Surprisingly? Then why did you let me work on it?"
"Because several others had tried and failed. You're making a name for yourself, so I thought I would see if you lived up to the hype."
I nodded, understanding his point, then asked. "What about you. How did you end up here?" As soon as I asked, I winced slightly; that wasn't the sort of question to ask in the underhive. It was normally better off not knowing.
"No different from most." Thul said, after giving me a piercing look. "I was fully trained Medicae. Good enough to serve, better than most. But the powers that be didn't want my kind of progress. So I left. This is where I can do my work in peace."
"And this is how you support your research?" I said, waving a hand at the surrounding workshop.
"Yes, surgeries, drugs and healing. It pays to keep the local gangs happy, unstable as they are."
"Has there been lots of changes within the gangs?"
Thul laughed at that. "There always is. I have been down here a long time. Before even the Court. And no gang has lasted more than a few years. Or no gang leader at any rate, the gang might still be called the same, but when the leaders changed the entire gang changes. That is one thing that can be said about the Court. You bring stability."
"And the others of the Fortress are like you?"
"Like me?" He tilted his head side to side in thought. "Maybe. Many of them are the usual sort. Heretical tech-priest, disgraced researchers or former administrators."
Changing the subject as I felt in slightly dangerous territory, I asked about one of the machines I saw in the workshop. "Where did you find a Bio-Electrochemical Distiller? And in such good condition as well?"
"You know what that machine is?" Thul asked, surprised.
"Yes, I have never used one of course, but I can recognise it."
"Found?" Thul said with a smirk. "Hardly, I took it with me when I left. One of the few machines I took with me. It was too important to my work to leave behind."
It took me far longer to finish than I'd expected. Chatting with Thul as I worked didn't help, but it was far more fun. The longer we spoke, the more animated Thul became and the more enthusiastic he was about talking through his work, he was. I hadn't really had the chance to stretch my mind like that, talking to someone who knew technical matters more than I did. And he 100% was more knowledgeable than I was.
But all good things came to an end. I finished putting the machine back together and soon enough, we were back in the lab with Snuffles on the workbench. As Thul gave him the injection, he said, "You'll need to come back every few weeks. So now, the serum. It will take a month or two to really kick in, but his appetite's going to shoot through the roof in the next few days. You will be able to feed him, correct?"
"Yes, I already have several weeks' extra supplies just for it."
"Good. The cocktails will enhance him across the board: sharper senses, stronger, faster, tougher bones and so on. I expect the treatment to last about a year."
"Why didn't the other dogs get this serum, if it is such a large upgrade?" I asked the question that had been bugging me for a while.
"Simple, really. They don't see it as worth it. It needs to be used early; even Snuffles as he is now, is pushing it. They put them into the pits to see who will survive first. By the time they've proven themselves, it's too late. The serum still works, but nowhere near as well."
---
Slumping onto my bed exhausted, I sighed. The analyser had been fun to take apart, but my mind was now frazzled, and I just wanted to rest. But no rest for the wicked. I was flip-flopping over what I wanted to tinker with.
I had several projects ongoing. Most were for Snuffles, though many of them were long-term, maybe months or even years away. One involved a pair of paws I'd managed to get my hands on. They needed repairs, but when didn't they? Once restored, they would be a serious enhancement: a magnetic clamping system for increased purchase on vertical or unstable surfaces, paired with retractable mono-blade claws—plasteel edged to a molecular sharpness, housed in power-assisted actuators. Once installed, Snuffles would be able to carve through just about anything the underhive could throw at us.
There were also some internal ones, mostly the sensor suite and mind impulse unit. There wasn't a huge amount I could do with them, as they were already pretty close to the limit of what I could make.
No, all I really had been doing was working on the software. For the auspexes, I was tweaking how much it would detect as well as how it worked. Mostly because I did not want to overwhelm or worse, fry Snuffles the first time a loud sound went off near him. But also because he wouldn't have many of the needed bionics to start with, like augmented eyes to make the most of the senses.
It was actually the impulse unit I had been focusing on the most. It wasn't always thought about, but the impulse unit went both ways. Allowing the mind to connect to technology but it also allowed technology to connect with the mind. So, I had been writing a programme that should help teach and give Snuffles commands more clearly. Hopefully, helping him learn faster.
It wouldn't be a miracle, but it should shave years off his training and remove much of the confusion once I had it perfected. That said, it was taking a lot of work to get there, not least because I was not going to install something into Snuffles that I was not 100% was safe.
Another project was breaking down a section of carapace armour. It was damaged beyond repair, so it was going to get scrapped before I rescued it. There was no way it would ever move again, but it was teaching me a huge amount about how it worked and what the next steps might be to get it to become a power armour, and that was enough for me.
Ever since I gained the Reverse Engineering spark, I had dozens of these sorts of projects, small tasks breaking down items to understand how and why they were constructed that way. I still had huge gaps in my knowledge, but they would get filled.
Actually, that reminded me.
Groaning, I forced myself up and grabbed my dataslate before collapsing back into bed. Opening up a new file, I started to type out notes for my plans in the future.
Up until now, I had been spending sparks very reactively. Which had worked for me so far, but with my sparks coming less and less frequently, I needed to think about the future. I hoped they would plateau off to maybe one a year or something, but I couldn't guarantee that, so then I would be left with milestones as my only option. Not a terrible thing, but I still needed a direction. So where did I actually want to end up? I was happy right now and if things kept as they were, I would end up high up in the gang. Which, if I kept learning, could become an incredibly powerful force within the hive.
But did I want that? To stay in the hive city, particularly the underhive. I didn't think so. But then I certainly didn't want to live in the upper spire, that sounded just as, if not more dangerous than where I was right now. No, what I really wanted was freedom. But I wasn't sure what the best path towards that was.
I remembered something about a trader of some sort and a writ or seal or something. But I just didn't know. Oh that was an idea. Maybe a fragment of knowledge on the various xeno factions and the Imperium as a whole. It could also direct me into interesting technology.
Noting that down brought me to what I wanted my sparks to do broadly. It was clearly going to be tech-related. By this point, I knew that much, not just because I enjoyed it, but it would give me the most power. In time, I would be able to build technology that could patch any gap or bridge any disadvantage.
I also needed to work out what the different tiers in my perks fully represented. I had a vague idea, but I wanted it more concrete. I had reached the second milestone for the technician fragment, but what did that mean? How skilled was I compared to the rest of the hive and the universe as a whole?
I knew that it roughly took two fragments to break the first barrier to get to tier two. Then anywhere from three to six to get to the next level. But above that, I had no idea. I had already started to plan for the future slightly with my Reverse Engineering fragment, and I knew I wanted to build on that. It was already showing its value, and I couldn't wait to see what it was like at higher tiers. But also, some actual theoretical sciences to go with it, so I actually understood why it behaved as it did, rather than just knowing it worked out that way.
But that was another thing I probably should have put a point in years ago. On what the system was and how it worked. In all likelihood, that would be my next one.
Then there were spaceships. I wanted my own, so maybe that was another path I could look at. There was also biological knowledge I wanted; I knew there was rejuvenation treatment. The Valtorin family head, which I had recently learned was the family that backed us, was over 300 years old.
I wanted that.
No, I wanted more than that. I knew that the space marine could live longer than that, so I wanted to live as long as I could, but I didn't want to transfer myself into a robot or something, so biology was a must, which fed into bionics as another one I wanted more of.
By the time I had done, I was no better off than when I started. Not really. I knew the general direction I was heading, but there were so many options that I wanted that I almost had choice paralysis. Still, I knew where the next few points would go.