I wake up in my Warram suite with banging on my door. It ended up being a long week having to interview over a hundred people had me not wanting to sleep on a cot in my warehouse. Strike that, with the noise Bev and Paolo have been making, I’d sleep on hospital linoleum any day of the week.
I grab my pulse pistol and press it against the door while I spy the eyelet. I see a round, barrel shaped thing and punch two pieces of plasma through the door. I open the door, pull the man, the cart and the gun into my room before investigating.
I see the man isn’t dead and fix that. I see he is wearing gloves and make sure to treat the gun like a nuke. The top part of the cart is a platter of food, while the second shelf is full of cleaning chemicals. Damnit. Another fucking hit? I can’t live here anymore. I scan him for a code, a mosaic, or a chip and find the last one that places him as a Warram operative.
I file a complaint with my assailant’s Warram ID that the building’s safety is a joke and that I should be refunded the residence as part of my salary or have increased security. I also inform them that anyone that visits my office without an appointment will be shot first. I think of various disposal options and then throw him off the balcony like the last one after I duped that drug asshole.
/Hey bitch, have you had assassination attempts?/
\mmmmmmm, it’s too morning for your bullshit. Send me your chews and some coffee.\
I do, and ensure it lands on her face.
\Asshole!! Props on the liquid coffee before being punched by a bag of it though. BB in 5\
That is a common occurrence as the week has warn on and Astorian time does not line up with Earth time.
\Okay, ready now. There were a few when I was smaller, but Mom’s brutality in response kind of cut all future attempts at the knees. She ended up killing the whole contract service and banished every professional contact they had to Earth. Funny to think you’re living on what she uses as a prison planet.\
/Well now I feel like an inmate. I’ve heard stories of people getting shivved in prison./
\What are you going to do about it? You can’t retaliate without a plan and an exit strategy you will absolutely have to use.\
/Daaaamn, Zia, you sound like you’ve planned an operation or two. Wait, did you say your Mom banished people?/
There’s a pause in the text. Boo. I look up what this gun would go for on the exchange and post it and the silencer for eight credits. I start rummaging around for the spackle and paint for the holes in the hallway when Zia answers back.
\You’re kidding me right? Kimber, you met my mother and you think she’s just a quirky arms dealer? Oh, Andromeda. She is going to die laughing when I tell her this.\
/Ugh, I haaaate being embarrassed because I missed something. Please don’t tell your mom./
\Hah, no way. Payback for dropping a cup of coffee on my face. But I’ll help you through what’s going on. What was my name on the contact card my Mother gave you?\
I check really quick as I had never processed her last name. /Uh, Zia Astoria?/
\Yes, good. Now what name do the home planet of the Empire and the Empire share?\
/Astoria, oh. Oh. Wait, Penny’s your mom. Penelope Astoria, I am so fucking stupid./
I cried in front of the Empress and she gave me a hug.
/I cried in front of the Empress and she gave me a hug!? Gerosakdmfdsasdfuck!/
\Can you tape the rest of this melt-down? I bet you’re being adorably dopey right now.\
/How did I not connect the dots? A Pixie named Penelope. Everyone knows the Empress is a Pixie! Sorry Zia, I gotta go let my brain melt out of my ears./
\Alright, take your time. Talk you ya later, doofus.\
I can hear her laughing at me. Stupid pixie princess. OMFG, she is a princess. I’ve been rando chatting with a princess for weeks and today I dropped shit on her face. How am I not dead yet?! I look to the cover-up supplies in my hands and it finally hits home that I need to make plans to start fighting back.
It’s hard to start any kind of plan like that without a place to live, so I guess it’s on the company I hired to make plug and play units to install into my hospital building.
The residence pods are finished and waiting for you to transfer them in place. The lab spaces have been delayed by up to a month due to the structural changes you desired on the top two floors. The small experiment space on your floor is part of your residence.
“It’s weird to think that parts of buildings are sitting in a warehouse waiting to be transferred. It is cool that the System can transfer in at nearly the same time they transfer the old materiel out. Did the manufacturer decide if they wanted to take the old parts?”
The up charge for them to take it is not worth the credits. Mining Astoria Inc. has deconstruction tools that are cheaper. It would also be an excellent tool to remove any buildings or rubble that you do not want to keep in your Settlement.
“Nice. I like this pre-empting my questions thing. I know you’re skimming my thoughts for it, but this is my idea of acceptable intrusion. Plus, I trust you way more now that I used to.” That probably sounded super shitty, Kimber. Good work.
And I would say that I like tasks where you let me work the problem and appreciate that you’ve stopped treating me as your secretary.
I snort, wondering how often the AI running the bots and the symbiote get relegated to such tasks for life. That would seem a waste of an opportunity.
I order some triggers and transfer some materials to my room and start working on booby traps and other nasty surprises like contact poisons on my closet handles, and cloud disbursal of my least favorite product. I leave my old phone on the table and mold some explosive putty around it to look like a protective case and program the phone to start a timer if it moves more that 30m from its current location.
Normally, this would all be way too complicated for me to just come up with, but Zia taught me how to link remotely to Astoria’s satellite info network and it hosts almost anything you can think of, like the rumored Internet of before the Warlord Period. Now that my room is completely uninhabitable, I head down to my Warram Lab area for my mandatory office hours.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
I’m midway through setting up additional security in my office and lab when a mercenary-looking guy walks in. I draw on him and he holds his hands up, showing me he should be no immediate threat. I lower my .38, but don’t put it away.
“You don’t have an appointment. Was the prompt at the door not clear enough?”
The man smiles and starts shifting around the side of my desk. He backs up when the auto turret drops from the ceiling. “Don’t get cute. What do you want.”
“Some respect, and some product. Normal things.” He’s still trying his smarmy act, and it’s coming across as he hasn’t given up yet.
“I don’t know you, but you’re off to a terrible start. What product you looking for?”
“Exactly! You don’t know me, or how important I might be, and yet you still talk to me like that?”
I stare at him, taking a page out of Lieutenant Lamar’s book to school my features by using my [Mechanical Calm] Talent with a piece of caramel from my pocket. The seconds tick by and his smile starts falling.
“I’ve heard rumors that you make a poison that’s traceless. I need a couple of grams.” Ah, someone that has contacts in Reno and suspects the deaths are linked to my mentor.
“I don’t sell poisons, friend. I have a menu of recipes I make, and if you want something else, you can provide the recipe and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Cut the crap. I know you make whatever Fontaine has been using to merc people up north and I want some.”
“Sorry, unless you know what the substance is, I won’t be able to help you. Now, unless you have actual business for me, you should leave.”
The man’s composure breaks, or he decided to switch tactics, and slams his hands down on my desk and opens his mouth to yell something at me. I pull on another Talent and put a bullet in his jaw, where the auto-turret puts about ten in his belly and chest before he staggers back away from me. I would normally leave him to stagger away, but Zia suggested making a statement so I draw my pulse pistol and put two shots into the base of his spine, severing the signal from his brain to his legs.
\Kimber, I’m hearing gunfire down the hall, are you okay?\
/Yeah, Doc. Some specialist decided to ignore the warning prompts I put up this morning. You might want to come over and look at him./ She pinged a confirmation and I went to go get some cleaning supplies for the mess he’s making in my entryway. When I get back, the sexy Russian is crouching with an injector in her hand, pouring something from a flask on the wounds on his stomach.
“With the face wound and the bullets in his torso, why the back Kimber?” She looks up at me and raises a well-curated eyebrow.
“I’ve been getting more violent attention lately and I’m over it. A friend told me to start sending messages. I figure a few wounds that Warram won’t fix out of reflex should be pretty clear how I feel about it.”
She stands and stows the items in her hands into the cute little hip pouch with a red cross on it. “You’re correct in that Warram doesn’t fund regrowing limbs, or in this case nerves. The t-3 injection that would fix most of what’s wrong with him would cost more than a year’s pay. Though honestly, an operator should be able to afford it.”
We stand there for a minute or so, not knowing what to do from here. “Can I offer you a juice or a coffee?” I ask, walking behind my desk.
“Oh, no thank you. How close are you to level 12?”
Tova, how close was I last I checked?
About two weeks of normal alchemy work. After the day full of contract work, the levels you got in Truth-tasting were very beneficial.
Which means, there’s a high likelihood that after killing that guy this morning, I’ll probably level when I look at my messages. As much as I hate them coming after me, I must admit, humans that are aggressing me make for good experience gains. This is likely the exact realization that started the Warlord Period in the first place.
“Now-ish? I don’t check my notifications very often, so if I check them I’ll likely get it. Funny suit time?”
“If you have a moment, I would love the data.” I follow the doc while dragging the unconscious merc into the hall.
Standing in her office in my underwear again, it feels just as uncomfortable as ever but not because she’s a creeper, but that her attention makes my insides wobbly. She makes a few notes on the current state of my physique, and then helps me into the tight sensor suit.
“Kimber,” she says, pausing at a point just below my left clavicle. The hovering touch on the healing scar makes me shiver. “Is this a bullet wound?”
“Yeah, part of why I’m beefing up my security. And why I’m leveling so fast.” I quickly pull the collar of the suit up and zip it the rest of the way half in part to swipe her hand off of my shoulder. Gods, what a horrible time for my hormones to show that they still work.
“Alright, my instruments are ready, please proceed.”
Tova, hit me.
/due to the progress of identifying skills and experience before discovery, this skill is advanced to Novice 1.
/ending a hostile System User rewards additional general experience.
/ending a User with a higher tier rewards additional experience.
I have skipped incremental notifications for alchemy and management.
Select from the following or Defer (2 points available):
Aether Engraving—enhancing objects with aether.
1
Body Language—not all truths are spoken.
2
Intermediate Tome of Alchemic Recipes
3
Magitech Primer—aether can mimic tech and vice versa!
2
Gun Fu!—Merging small arms tactics and Martial Arts
2
Surprisingly, none of these are trash choices. Sure, there’s one I can’t afford, but I don’t think I’m too interested in that kind of breadth of knowledge in alchemy. Advanced techniques? Sure, I’d bite, but not just a collection of recipes. Ideally, I learn all of these eventually, and if I’m interested in wasting money instead of points, I can probably brute force engraving knowledge; but the big shiny in this list is Magitech.
Penny, who I now know is Empress Astoria (FML), recommended I ditch tinkering for Magitech integration to get to where I want to be with my product lines and alchemy processes. That said, I want this more for delves into electronic timers attached to aetheric triggers leading to big splodeys.
My selection made, images and information of catalysts, aetheric induction, and a myriad of other concepts flood my brain before Tova diverts most of the flow to my subconscious. I silently thank her for allowing me to think. I gasp and start breathing quickly in reaction to the stress, opening my eyes to find a concerned doctor hovering over me. A terrible quip about angels flicks across my mind and I squash it before it hits my mouth.
“Big module that time. Does that get any easier?”
She smiles softly at me, “It lessens after tier advancements. That’s where large modifications can be made in most cases. That includes the structure and capabilities of your brain.”
“Heh, not sure I really need more body modifications.” I respond.
“With your action boost Talent, further changes in musculature would keep you from injuring yourself as much with it.”
I can’t tell if she’s probing or she’s just helping out, but no reason not to share with her. “Triggered Action has gotten easier to use since,” I gesture at my body, “this happened. I only feel the strain when I use it to hit someone. Shooting and knife throwing are painless.”
She purses her lips and takes some notes in her HUD. I chuckle at how easily she gets distracted by science. Too bad Marcella doesn’t get to enjoy this cuteness that often.
I apologize for the sweat I leave inside the suit and put my pants on so that I’m not showing my ass on my way to the shower in my lab. Sports bra is basically clothing anyway. A rinse and some new underwear and I’m ready to sit at my desk for a few hours when Tova tells me to check my professional messages. Twelve new appointments today. Fantastic.