And here is Chapter 3. Please enjoy!

As always, Spiritual_Liege has helped with the appropriate lore.

NOTE: FFN likes to eat formatting. there ware strikethroughs used in this chapter, now represented by Curly Braces {}. Blame Doc manager for being weaksauce.

After our previous...Encounter with the locals, Harry decided ( and I agreed) that any decisions made about my future were best made in front of the actual bosses, or at least the officially authorized reps thereof. That this required us to vacate the area that we were currently in and move to an entire different level of the hive was completely incidental.

Really.

So we made the trip towards the local stronghold for Van Saar interests...or at least we attempted to.

There's a funny thing about Hive cities. They technically have somewhere in the range of hundreds of millions to outright billions of people housed within, and the vast majority of them in conditions that can at best be charitably be described as squalor on a particularly good day.

This, as can be expected, tended to be a very fertile ground for conflict.

Add in the gangs and the other unique issues that Necromunda is normally faced with, and the end result was...unique.

Such as the current situation that we found ourselves in.

"So please tell me again why this is happening?" I shouted at Harry over the thunder of gunfire.

"I dunno myself, really" He shouted back, even as he snapped off a few shots from behind the piece of ferrocrete he was using as cover. "Normally this firefight happens about an hour or so later! I thought we were dodging around it!"

And that was a part of the problem. This was supposed to be a SCHEDULED firefight? That happened on the regular, every day, damn near like clockwork?

I exercised my frustration on the idiots that were trying to kill me at the moment, sending yet more suppressive fire downrange to little effect. I would have used a grenade, but after the first firefight Harry very kindly informed me that using explosives was considered bad form, mostly because it would attract Arbites.

"YOU ARE DOING A REALLY SHITTY JOB AT DODGING FIREFIGHTS, HARRY!"

Did I mention that this was the fourth firefight we've been in since we started this little trip? I may have forgotten that part.

"IT'S NOT NORMALLY THIS BAD!"

Yeah, there was that too.

Supposedly the sudden influx in random acts of premeditated murder could be directly correlated with my appearance and current proximity to who or whatever the hell is sending these assholes at us. Even Harry is getting agitated at the sheer numbers getting shoved in front of us to die, and for a veteran Hive Worlder that is saying a LOT.

I, on the other hand, was getting a lot of target practice in. I would try out that new magic I just got, but I was already in deep enough shit with multiple roving bands of gangers throwing themselves at me to waste ammo. I did not need people screaming about psykers as well.

That, of course, did not prevent me from being an asshole to the idiots who dared come against me, as I demonstrated yet again on the dumbass attempting to flank me by shanking him with a supercooled omni-blade as he came around the pillar I was using as cover. The dumbass in question dropped like a stone, screaming in agony, and I silenced him with an outright contemptuous double-tap. Would have used the thermal clip on my eagle, but I NEEDED those...

Seriously, this shit was just getting OLD. And being able to say that about a firefight seems...wrong, almost.

I leaned out from my cover and sniped the dumbass attempting to set up a belt-fed weapon on a bipod mount. His partner fell soon afterwards, and I ducked back into cover before the other dumbasses could get ideas.

Harry was showing himself to be surprisingly competent in a fight, with a level of accuracy that I found quite shocking and a level of grit and daring that until then I would have expected only from Marines, both the US and Alliance varieties. His autopistol sounding out always heralded the death of one of our opponents, and the wicked-looking combat knife he carried as a backup always found its mark, even around the downright crude armor being worn by our attackers.

I really liked his style.

The noise level dropped unexpectedly, causing me to stick a hastily rigged-together stick mirror around the edge of my pillar to see what the hell was going on. Said mirror was immediately blown off by a line of red.

Well fuck me. I know it was getting boring, but DAMN.

"Harry! They've got Las!" I shouted over to my companion in warning, just before he poked his head out from his cover. This ended up saving his life, as the Las bolts flew right where his head would have been if he'd poked it out.

"ATTENTION FOOLS! WE DEMAND THE DARK-SKINNED ONE!" A voice I didn't recognize boomed out, distorted as all hell to boot.

Probably Chaos.

"And assuming I refuse?" I shouted back, while prepping one of the nastier surprises that I could kick out.

"THEN YOUR FRIEND WILL DIE."

Translation: We're dead no matter what. Maybe I could milk-

"And just who the hell do you think you are, anyway?" Harry shouted out from his cover. "You think for one second that the houses will allow this shit to go unchecked?"

"YOUR PUNY HOUSE WILL DO-"

The explosion of electricity stopped the monologue completely in its tracks, my hastily modified haywire grenade having done it's work and created a relatively wide-ranging electrical effect akin to a taser...and conveniently incapacitating most of our remaining opposition.

Both Harry and I quickly stepped out of our cover and got to work.

"Alright, so what the hell is going on here? And who the fuck was the oddball fucker just now?"

Harry, in a rare moment, didn't actually have any answers for me. And instead responded with a shrug. "I have no clue why we seem to be drawing out the crazier idiots for today. Hell, I think we just ended up as the stars of the normal post-lunch pre-shift-change firefight."

WHAT.

"So...you're telling me that the firefights here happen often enough that people have made official schedules for them?" I asked, incredulously.

"Well, yeah." Harry's response was not what I wanted to hear. " To be fair, though, that is for the entire hive section in general, not just one area. Normally the fights for this time are happening about two levels up…"

"And yet" I nearly spat out, sarcasm all but dripping from my words "we somehow have managed to find ourselves as the center of nearly all of these fights for the allotted times."

Harry gave a noncommittal grunt.

"So just who the hell wants me either dead or captured so bad when I've barely even had time to really make a scene? And why the hell are they willing to throw the shit gangers at us, anyway?" I hefted the Lasrifle that I had 'acquired' from our prior opposition as a form of exclamation point. "I would think that they would send in more than one freaking lasgun with the guys, if they really wanted to bother."

Harry shrugged yet again, shifting the Hellgun on his back into a more comfortable carrying position.

Still didn't stop him from dropping the mook coming at us from the side.

"I think that the Las group was a different set from the guys who had us pinned beforehand." He stated, absently stooping to pick up the laspistol from the now dead ganger in front of him. "Dunno about Big Voice, though. You kinda killed him before I could get any real info."

I gave a snort of contempt. "Meh, he had it coming, trying my patience the way he did. Besides, with guys like that you can usually tell from markings and such, right? Maybe he was a cultist?"

"Unlikely, and the culties around here tend to stick lower, to the underhive proper and the access tunnels." Harry replied, dismissing my hypothesis entirely. "That and they are normally not armed anywhere near as well as I've been seeing here. This is the fourth Las weapon I've seen just today."

"Well, at least you have ammo now. I know you were running short on mags for that dinky sidearm of yours over there." I japed at him. "Try and actually take care of the good shit, please? I do not wanna have to fix that thing."

Another casual motion of my hand and my recently-acquired combat knife-although it really should be called a machete, now that I think about it-decapitated one of the braver fools who had the sense to try and be sneaky about it. Well, that and the fact that he lacked a ranged weapon of any type. I easily sidestepped the blood spray as we continued walking.

"BREAK? Whaddya think I am, some lousy Goliath grunt?" Harry shot back, grinning all the while. "We take CARE of our weapons here in Van Saar, boy." The ganger he shot off of his perch a few dozen meters ahead of us seemed to disagree as he fell and broke his neck.

Tough shit, idiot. Stop playing stupid games.

"Still, you were going really hard on that poor pistol of yours! I can hear it even now, weeping at the sheer abuse heaped upon it!" I paused for a moment, then continued walking, somewhat surprised at the lack of an attack. "Maybe I should confiscate it from you, so that it can receive the proper care due to a weapon of war?"

The ground in front of me sparked angrily as the bullets ricocheted off of it wildly, all missing me and Harry by a wild margin. The shooter, some female ganger with what looked like a light machine gun analog, was quickly silenced with a burst from the Eagle.

The trail of bodies that were being left in our wake was getting to the point of ridiculousness, now.

"On a different topic" I began again "Don't some of these guys have important jobs? Families or something? Anything at all to do other than shoot at me for existing?"

"I was asking myself the same question, really. Normally you don't get this much activity towards the top. Tends to attract the Enforcers, and later Arbites if that doesn't stick."

I made a lazy motion behind us with a wave of my Pistol, lining up on a straggler of the last group of gangers in the process. " So what do you call that, then?" I punctuated the statement with a single shot, the ganger dropping to the ground in a minus his head.

"No clue, Satori. No clue at all. Really fucking annoying, though." Harry put down yet another ganger as we continued our trek.

...My life was now a fucking comedy routine now.

We arrived at the local base for Van Saar interests without too much more in the way of fanfare or issues. That I was willing to call the additional four firefights and another {running}*ahem* walking gunbattle as being "without fanfare" was telling.

Seriously, my damned BROTHER could shoot better than that, and he'd never held a gun in his life!

I intoned as such to Harry as we closed in on the guarded barricades that marked the edge of the stronghold proper.

His response basically boiled down to "that's the way it is" without any form of explanation or comment.

I Graciously allowed it to slide.

The Stronghold (and I was going to have to get it's proper name, soon, that placeholder has way too much gravitas to it) was a moderately large building, marked by being distinctly better fortified even at a casual glance. Gunports lined the walls at strategic locations, there looked like a nice killing field set up there, even with the lack of room for a real setup, and the actual wall setup was REALLY nice. The clearly visible guards on the walls and at the barricades helped a lot to dissuade any real opposition to those seeking to charge in.

From the looks of it, there had still been quite a few idiots anyway, though.

Harry stepped forward first: "Harrisyn Cain, here with the prospect the bosses were interested in."

The guards gave him a quick visual inspection, and then nodded to each other. The one on the left side then turned back to Harry. "Wait here, we'll let 'em know you're here." He motioned Harry away, and then pulled out what looked like an old-fashioned handheld radio.

Making an uneducated guess, probably both a secure comms net, and a message all in one that the situation was "normal", so to speak.

It's what I'd do, after all.

After a brief exchange over their radio sets, the guard had obviously heard what he wanted to hear, and waved the two of us over. " You and your guest were expected, Cain. Heard that you had a bit of trouble out in your neck of the woods, and on the way here as well, though. Care to explain?"

Harry once again shrugged. He was doing a lot of that today. "When I know, I'll tell you." he grumbled, though there wasn't much involved in it. "Had to beat down what seemed like all of the wannabes on the way here, though. It was crazy..."

I chose to remain silent, and observe the brief conversations as we were led to something similar to a small staging area where another set of guards would collect us, before we went to see the brass. From my limited eavesdropping (and my considerable multitasking ability, thanks to that Info Processing ability I had awakened) I found that there was very little in the way of actual info being passed in Harry's small talk.

Must be saving the rest of the story for the bosses, then.

After our escort arrived, we were quickly guided to a small but obviously well-secure meeting room inside the stronghold proper, where three people awaited us. The Gender mix of two men and a single woman didn't surprise me, nor the fact that the seating arrangement, with the woman in the center, suggested that she was in charge.

What did, however, was that all three of them were wearing a type of power armor...no...was that a life support harness? But why would they need one in the first place?

We were gestured to seats by the woman, a frail-looking thing with sunken eyes and thinning hair. (My medical knowledge suggested some kind of wasting sickness to be to blame, but I wasn't about to make a snap diagnosis on that alone.) She then opened up the proceedings.

Good evening, gentlemen. I am Valerie Kransmith, a ranking Augmek within House Van Saar. With me are Amos Barrugends" The man to the right of her, with pale, almost sallow skin and odd-looking eyes, nodded tightly "and Janus Farhish." The other man, an almost dangerously thin being with an oddly well-groomed beard, smiled thinly and nodded at us.

From what little info Harry gave me, the Augmeks were the House' equivalent of a Lieutenant.

"The purpose for today's meeting is to ascertain whether or not Mr. Green here has anything of value to us as a House."

I very carefully did not react to the barb. Instead, I let Harry do the talking…for now.

"...Currently Mr. Green has demonstrated advanced knowledge of combat maneuvers and tactics, to the point where the multiple gangers that have attempted to...accost us have been dealt with in an appropriate manner.

"To clarify: the vast majority of the mess that you see on our path here? That's his work. I'd say he's quite effective."

I remained silent.

"Interesting, interesting." Amos...yeah, that was who the Valerie chick said the guy on the right was…"Perhaps you could teach our people from your no doubt considerable experience., then. It would do so much good for our forces in the hive and around the local area."

""Let's not be hasty, now." The other guy-Janus they said his name was, right?-interjected. " Just because he can deal with some of the riff-raff doesn't mean that he's worth the effort. I say we need to test him a bit, see if he's really worth-"

The crack of a laspistol rang out in the meeting room, the bolt only JUST missing his head. Instead, what looked like a small portion of his head had suffered the most minor of burns, the redness already showing.

I placed the Laspistol on the table with a smooth motion, the calm I felt completely at odds with the sheer tension racing throughout the room-and especially through the guards, who now had weapons firmly trained on my back. Not that I was too worried, though.

"If you wish to continue talking about me as if I don't exist, I can leave." I stated, my voice completely flat and devoid of any and all emotion. "Otherwise...let's talk business."

"He is quite the shot, I see." Valerie spoke, in a language that I quickly identified as High Gothic. I mentally sighed. Another test? Fine, have it your way.

"I have worked quite hard to become so." Paraphrasing The Princess Bride in response to idiots felt...appropriate here. That I did it in High Gothic just to rub their noses in it was icing on the cake for me.

And I so, so very much enjoyed the blatant flinch as all three of our hosts turned to stare at me in utter shock, the realization that I had not only understood them, but replied back etched bright as day on their faces...and I wasn't done, either.

"You question my skills in battle. Fine, I can accept that, considering that you haven't seen me personally. But I was under the impression that Harrisyn here was YOURman, and one considered trustworthy at that. Are you saying that his word is not good enough for verification?"

I was rewarded with another flinch.

"...His word is valid in our eyes." Valerie responded.

"Then let's stop with the bullshit games and get down to business already. You tell me what you're looking for, I tell you what I want in return, we work to a satisfactory arrangement. Deal?"

The silence stretched out for a long moment.

"Oh yeah...tell your guys here" and with that I pointed to the guards behind me "to stop waving those things at my head before I take offense...especially if they like walking."

The guards looked at each other, confused…and a sudden fear came to their eyes. Only then did they actually bother to look down...and see the antipersonnel traps I had pre-fabricated and placed at their feet without them noticing.

Hey, N7 is all about being crazy prepared for even the stupidest situations…

"So then, people. What will it be?"

"Negotiations" went well after that incident. Very well.

Apparently the Augmeks there were rather impressed with the sheer size of the balls that I had to pull that stunt off directly in their faces...and the skill that it displayed that they didn't even notice until after I'd struck.

I'd also blatantly displayed a fluency in High Gothic, a trait that was very desired out of their operatives, as it was both rare as all hell in the hive dwellers here, and they tended to work with the upper hive and the actual nobles more often than not in the mercantile areas in order to market the tech that they put out.

I didn't directly mention anything about my mechanicus skills or the training I'd received with the Rites of Maintenance, but Harry's descriptions of the improvised explosives that I was throwing around earlier must have left an impression, as the three brass hats had agreed to let me take a look at some of the older tech stuff that could use a good repair job. That it came with a reasonably sized (and defended) workshop in one of their more secure areas was a good thing in my book.

It did leave one nagging question in my mind, though, and I chose to ask about it as the meeting concluded.

"So, I was wondering about this since I saw the three of you." I began. "Exactly what the fresh hell are you guys infected with, that has you looking like a victim of one of the worse wasting diseases, and why is it so bad that you need a life support harness built into that armor to survive?"

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room after the question.

"Well-"

"Because I REALLY need to know if I'm in some kind of viral zone, so I can make proper preparations. Unless its something completely different, in which case you need to tell me right fucking now. Because I know that to look like that this disease has to be rough as hell-i almost mistook it for rad poisoning, and on a stupid long scale, at that."

More silence. It seems I stumbled upon something very important, then. Too bad for them, I wanted answers. NOW.

"Well?"

It was Amos who finally spoke. "You had it right in your hunch, my friend. And more credit to you for knowing of it. Our condition is due to a form of radiation poisoning. We are in the process of securing assistance in dealing with it, but there are inter-house politics involved."

Huh. I was expecting them to dither around the issue and generally try to not answer. I must have made a damned good impression.

Still left a dangerous loophole that I needed closed, though. "And the source of this radiation?"

"...we cannot tell you."

Very hesitant, there. Interesting.

"Can not, or will not?"

"Mr Green." Janus spoke up, this time. "There are secrets of our house that we are forbidden to share to those who have not reached a certain level of trust. The source of the radiation is involved in this, and I am breaking a great deal of confidentiality in telling you even that much. Please, for now, accept that we cannot tell you any more at this time."

...Huh. so Van Saar had something...or someone... who was radioactive, or produced something that accomplished the same, and was essential to the long-term stability of the house. Meaning that they would keep the secret until their dying day if need be.

No point forcing the issue right now. As it stands, I should be able to get more info soon enough on just what the problem is...and maybe offer up a solution. Medi-gel was a very good all-purpose healing agent, and it was entirely possible that I could formulate it to work with severe and long-term radiation poisoning. Failing that, I would need to find a way to put together some form of Rad-X or similar before any attempt at rehabilitation could be made…

I gave them a terse nod of acceptance, making it clear that I didn't like the situation but would abide with the decision...for now. With that, the meeting was adjourned and we were free to go our separate ways.

All in all, things managed to work out well on my end. Valerie wanted me to look into setting up a training regimen for the House troops and affiliated gangs, specifically with the eye of being used as the House's Planetary Defense Force tithe. I personally agreed on principle that getting the conscript PDF troopers up to a reasonable standard was the best bet regardless of anything else that happened around the hive proper, as they would be facing the hellscape that was the rest of the galaxy in the name of the poor saps down here. That, and the best of them had a chance to be selected for the Imperial Guard proper, complete with trips to chaotic wastelands, Xenos-riddled hellscapes, and the Eldar.

Not fun in the least. Maybe I could at least give the equipment a once-over, make sure it's not going to crap out at the worst time or something…

Aside from that particular detail, my knowledge of High Gothic made me very useful for mingling with their upper-tier contacts, those who either were or fashioned themselves as nobility. This was a double-edged sword: on the one hand I had access to people in potentially very high places; on the other those same people had access to ME, and I wasn't entirely sure which was better (or worse) overall. As of now, I was calling it a wash.

For now, I needed to get to my new workshop space and set it up for real work.

Harry followed me out of the stronghold as I headed towards the location of my new (temporary) base of operations.

"Seems to me like you got just about everything that you could need outta that deal there, Green." he quipped. "Really, I don't think I coulda done better myself…"

"Naah. I didn't get everything that I needed." Was my reply. "I'm missing one really key component to all of this to make it work."

"Oh really. And just what piece is that, then?" The sarcasm was rather biting. Did I strike a nerve?

"Oh, it's really simple. Just people that I can trust." And that was {God's} The Emperor's Own truth, right there.

I had no one that I could trust, here in this world of endless war and despair. Nobody that really had my back, that would step in to make sure that I didn't get knifed in the front while watching for the knife to the back. And while I thought that Harry could be that one person, he wasn't there. Not yet.

He seemed to sense this too, because he only nodded his head solemnly at me. "Trust, I've found, is one of the hardest things to gain in the hive, and by far the easiest to lose. We all have things that don't need to be known by others."

Ah yes, that age-old adage, that three could keep a secret, if two of them were dead. It was a shitty saying, all the more so for being the absolute truth. That being said, though…

"Doesn't mean that it can't be earned, just that it's difficult to do" I smirked a little after my little monologue. "After all, the hard things are often the most rewarding when completed."

"That they are, my friend" Harry gave his own sardonic chuckle at the statement. "That they are."

The workshop provided to me by the local Van Saar concern was a small and paltry thing, not much to really scream that it was used for major repairs and such. Considering that an actual full shop with all the fixings would draw down Mechanicus attention, I understood the restraint.

It was really a simple affair, with simple tools made to do simple jobs. Nothing too impressive, aside from some minor specialized tools for working on some of the more common Las weapons as needed.

The main draw of the place, aside from it's easily defensible location, was the living area attached to the second story zone. It was small, only about maybe an eighth again (at most) larger than the safehouse that Harry had stashed me in temporarily. The amenities were just as simple: a small kitchenette, a washroom with shower and toilet setups, and a smallish bedroom area separated off by a lockable door, which had an equally small closet set within. The furnishings were sparse as all hell, too: only a small, almost cot-like bed and a cheap table with a few chairs. It suggested that company was not something that would be around much, or at least that they would not want to remain for long.

Nothing I couldn't fix on my own, but still...

The biggest boon for me here is that they had keyed locks, meaning that I didn't have to modify much to access my real workshop. But first…paranoia called.

A significant part of my training as an N7 operative was in counter-surveillance techniques. In particular, how to locate, identify, and disable bugs and trackers of various makes and models. Considering the level of schizo tech that was the Imperium on a good day, I wasn't expecting much, but it never hurt to be cautious about these things.

A thorough search of the place surprisingly only turned up a grand total of four bugs, and of them only one of which was still operational in any capacity. The amusing part was that the working bug, an audio recorder, was working in name only; it could receive audio and record it, but it's storage medium was toast. So everything it heard vanished into the aether, never to be heard again...unless the Mechanicus got involved. So all four bugs got slated for teardown and repurposing, after I utilized the standard field-expedient tracker removal and disabling method.

The steel-toed boot.

Now that my space was secure, it was time to take stock and get things set up. My last haul on awakenings of skills and "perks" was somewhat large, mostly due to the ancillary abilities that came with the respective sets. A lot of them I had not been able to properly explore, such as the magic system that had been granted to me, along with a singular ability tied to that same system.

This system, completely unnamed, was quite simple, really. Six elements, plus a seventh, "null" element that seemed to encompass personal skills and abilities or things that didn't fall anywhere else in the system.

Casting was equally simple.

Step 1: Recite Spell Incantation.

Step 2: Have proper aptitude for spell.

Step 3: Supply requisite Magical Power.

Result? MAGIC!.

I was, based on the initial data dump that he was reading, slotted with natural aptitudes for the elements of Wind, Water, and Light. Not a bad combination, if they worked the way I thought they did...but it was very odd, considering that it was attached to a perk that boosted my ability to create anything to the point that I could basically create a top-tier...anything. That it also came with a set of master-level crafting skills was just a sweet bonus, all things told. Considering that one of those skills was Weaponsmithing-as in GENERAL weaponsmithing- that was an extremely sweet bonus.

The magic was there, untrained and untapped, waiting to be used as I saw fit...but thanks to the nature of the Imperium, and the (sadly justified) fear of Psykers, I couldn't actually use it in a given situation without causing a major mess in the process. That, and I was totally untrained in the system to begin with, and would need the time to experiment on what worked and what didn't.

My Null magic skill might help with that, though: it was an interesting "spell" that allowed me to, as I saw fit, modify the magic I was casting, on the fly, to have differing effects, greater (or smaller) ranges, or even to remove parts of the casting process, in exchange for more required magical power. I had dubbed it "Metamagic" as a result. I would need to experiment some, but it looked like there was nothing stopping the spell from working on itself...meaning I could technically crack the system wide open to use as I saw fit, if need be...something to keep in mind for the future.

I stepped into my workshop proper as I considered the next ability that I had ignored in favor of more important issues. The concept was weird, in that I had gained the powers and abilities of a so-called "Mystic", complete with an aura (that was thankfully dismissable) announcing my presence...which was a requirement for the second ability, which allowed me to channel this aura into a given tool and eventually give it magical properties.

Eventually being completely undefined, of course.

Along with it came the ability to channel a natural element of the world, in my case Light, on a near conceptual level…though it would need extreme levels of practice, like all things.

I had already been using the multitasking and information processing ability I'd gained during my hacking run, and later through the myriad firefights of the day, so I could set that aside for now (though it seemed it would be very useful as a research skill.)

The rest were mainly for assists in my own crafting endeavors, ranging from the mindset to create extremely durable and lasting equipment to having a shocking sense of aesthetics and flair when doing my design work. There was even a set of data in there for working with nanomachines, though I lacked the tools to even attempt to construct them, let alone control them. Fortunately, there was another set of knowledge that came with that bundle-and this one allowed for the building of the tools to build the tools, upwards until you had what you needed for whatever you were going to do. It was actually quite nifty, all things considered, and I fully planned on taking advantage of that right now.

Using the various bins of parts and equipment scattered around the large toolroom area, I moved a bunch of scrap metal and old circuit boards towards the central area of my workshop, where a simple, if sturdy workbench had appeared. Setting it down, I then pulled out my recently looted laspistol and studied it for a long moment.

Las weapons were generally very simple to manufacture and maintain, and this one was no exception. I field-stripped the weapon, and began inspecting the components for wear and tear, and was quite shocked at the very noticeable lack thereof.

It would seem that even the lowest of the low gangers know to keep their weapons usable.

There were, however, several things that I saw that could be done that would increase both service life and rated power output of the laspistol significantly, if I could only find (or rather, build) the proper tools for the job. From the looks of it, I could probably retrofit a safety and power selector switch in here, too.

A quick breakdown of the Lasrifle that I had brought with me as well showed similar issues, along with enough room to add in a fire selector switch as well as a power output modulator.

I think I might be able to do something with these after all…

A mild buzzing feeling from my head broke my train of thought. Turning my attention to it, I was presented with a kind of heads-up display feature, and a short list, along with a partially-filled progress bar.

...Huh. seems like there was another big dump of abilities as well today, and some of them had already started settling in without needing my input. There was one, however, that had a warning label attached to it for some reason. Curious, I looked it over.

A vague description of the ability popped into my mind, of a type of material that had interesting properties, and would be supplied to me at regular intervals to use as I saw fit. The warning label seemed to be attached to a mandatory change that would be involved in the process...something that I needed to actually allow to happen before it would take.

Considering the fact that the list of abilities and perks was still loading in, and had stopped until I accepted the new abilities changes, I saw no real reason to deny the process any longer. It's not like anything in here can actively hurt me, right?

In all my life, with all of my experiences both real and virtual, I have never, EVER experienced the onset of "instant Karma" that damned fast.

My body was immediately wracked with agonizing pain as the changes started, going as far as to seem like my very organs were being torn apart. I heard a noise echoing off of the walls of my workshop. I did not realize until later that it was me screaming in pain.

My arms gained an odd quality to them, with a strange, crystalline growth beginning to spread rapidly along their length in jagged, if thin, lines from my torso. My eyes began to blur, even as I felt an odd weight settle upon my head. My balance shifted massively, and for the first time since I was a child I found myself unable to properly compensate for it, tumbling to the ground in a pained heap that only made whatever was happening to me even WORSE.

And throughout it all, my omnitool blared in warning as the bio-monitor program I'd coded ages ago met and passed it's fault states. Too bad I was in far too much pain to pay attention.

A sudden cooling sensation spread throughout my body, and the mind-numbing pain finally ebbed off. I looked down at my omnitool, the presumed source of the relief, to find that the auto-dispenser for medigel was working properly, and had used the emergency dispenser to basically dump an entire pack straight into my bloodstream.

I suspect that was the only reason I was still alive.

Now that my head was clearing, knowledge began to flood into my head of what the hell just happened.

First was an apology from "Watts". Apparently this was a secondary condition of working with the material that was provided by that new perk of mine...a severe-no, TERMINAL medical condition, gained from prolonged exposure to, or direct blood contact with, this strange substance called Originium. The stuff seemed to have a habit of converting organic material into more of itself through an unknown process. (There was a note in the file stating that the cache provided to me was safe for handling, but I intended to remain wary all the same.)

Second was the side effect attached to said medical condition: the ability to use "Arts" on a level that an ordinary person would consider to be outright insane.

Somehow I was not surprised; Ultimate power at the cost of everything important was THE standard deal as such things went. Something to look into when I wasn't literally dying from being mutated and/or converted into crystal.

This disease, called "Oripathy" by those who have had their world wracked by it, was the cause of a massive social shift and upheaval the likes of which I doubt that I would ever see with my own eyes. The infected were all but the walking dead, their days numbered and counting down, depending on how far the infection had spread.

The notes file in my head said that I had contracted stage 3, the worst known stage. If there was a stage four then no one had ever lived long enough to reach it.

The good news was that medigel seemed to be a pretty good counter to the main effects.

The bad news was that I had a very limited supply of medigel.

That left one real solution, I needed to find a cure. NOW.

Fortunately for me, there were some other abilities being loaded in as well. One of them was a scavenger skill that came with an equipment bundle, that although weak seemed like it could go places if needed. The second, was a rather interesting conceptual ability allowing me to understand any written language whatsoever, even dead ones. Normally it wouldn't work on ciphers and encrypted text, but an odd mutation of the skill removed that limitation.

That it came with a set of spell cards and a silly hat (that might not be as silly as described; I'd have to see it for myself) told me exactly where this particular ability was pulled from...and confirmed a suspicion as to where all of this power was being pulled,from, or at least inspired by.

Maybe both?

The third was a game changer that would, thanks to the ancillary changes, keep me alive just that much longer, even with Oripathy, thanks to the sheer number and breadth of the gene mods and bio-cybernetics now installed in my body. That mental interface was awesome too, but all of that was secondary to the main skill: the ability to steal my enemies tech and make it my own.

This, combined with the last skill that allowed me to MASSIVELY crunch down the amount of time required for any given project that I undertook (like, this was outright cartoon levels of silly), meant that I had all of the tools that I needed to study, research, and ultimately craft a cure for a debilitating disease that had stumped medical professionals on it's home planet for decades.

For me, it would, at most, take maybe an afternoon. Two, if it was really tough.

That this included sourcing the various materials, building up the tools, and only THEN actually studying the disease meant nada. I could do it all within the next several hours.

Well, then. I sure as hell know what I'm doing today, don't I?

In the end, it took all of eight hours.

EIGHT. HOURS.

Eight hours total, to create an ultra-modern, ultra-compact biolab from first principles.

To create all of the scanning equipment needed for it to function, and then to refine it to work on the scales necessary.

To do all of the required research into Originium, and how it affected the human body.

To finally synthesize a cure.

And it was all so simple, in hindsight…

Originium, in many ways, reminded me of the properties of Tiberium, or Command and Conquer fame. Eerily similar mutagenic properties. Similar methods of spread and corruption...although Originium was FAR more volatile, all things considered.

Considering that it allowed for some pretty amazing feats, I was willing to let that slide.

My cure was more of a rewrite of the way the stuff actually worked on humans, kind of showing it where and how it could integrate with the human body and how to do so with maximum effectiveness.

Now, the Originium particles flowing through my blood, and embedded in the vast majority of my critical organs and even nerves would act as a boosting agent for my general biology. It wasn't much, on paper anyway...but Arts are Very, very weird, almost magical in terms of effects sometimes, and allowed for some crazy boosts when needed. Nothing on par with what I remembered of an Astartes being capable of, but still well beyond a "standard" human.

Speaking of standard human...I was no longer anything of the sort, having been modified by a weird nanoassembly plague thing (and then quickly changed back, with some extras where my Mechanicus implants normally would have been), which had the side effect of raising my mind far, FAR above that of a normal human.

I think the stated baseline was something along the lines of an entire football stadium's worth of geniuses, all specialized in their own fields. Depending on the stadium used, that was well over fifteen thousand (15,000) minds...and I was, in terms of pure intelligence, considered superior to them all.

Sure didn't feel that way, though, but I digress.

The second change was just a tad bit more...noticeable.

"Hehe, they're ticklish. Why'd they have to be ticklish?"

I was currently standing in front of a hastily constructed full-length mirror, and checking out the new additions to my personage.

Including the set of very functional animal ears now sitting on top of my head.

That I still had my regular human ears, and that they worked just as well as normal, was something of a surprise as well.

Those I could have dealt with easily enough. Besides, I have a silly hat now that might become my trademark feature. It was very convenient in that it served to hide my new ears from public scrutiny, and matched my current color scheme to boot. The cute wrench and Mettool decals sewn into it were a bonus feature, in my opinion.

What was not so funny was the two very large, extremely FLUFFY Fox tails currently sticking out of my freaking backside. THOSE I would have some problems with.

But that was an issue for another day. Right now, I needed rest, and some food afterwards

Oh, and to catalogue the freaking avalanche of training that I'd just received as an Operator, in multiple classes no less.

Especially since normally most Operators only train as one. Single. Class.

This made me suddenly having training in no less than SIX of them to be somewhat daunting.

I Intended to roll with it. Besides, it was more stuff to train the grunts in, right?

so this one nearly got away from me for a bit. I managed to catch it in time, though.

there are freebies associated with the perks below that I have not yet added in. I will update with the perks later on today.

Please Do not be afraid to review. I appreciate any and all feedback.

Perks for this Chapter:

-Bibliophile's Discerning Eyes (Touhou Forbidden Hermit) (100CP)

You can read anything no matter what language it's written in. This does not come with the ability to write in that language, but you can read it if it's a language at all. Including dead and forgotten languages – an invaluable skill if you wish to do serious historical research – but not encoded texts. (...at least not normally-Author)

-Acquester (Spiral Knights) (100CP)

In times of crisis and desperation, resources become too precious to use on anything other than necessities. The spiral Order has had to save all their supplies to repair their ship, so you've had to make do on the field. you know how to look for your own resources, remaining self-sufficient in the field through using scavenged items as supplies for anything ranging from simple maintenance to complex construction. Power Cores, Blighted Bones, or even Goo Drops can be used as spare parts or more. With what you've learnt, these days you don't just survive, you thrive. Whether it's machines that power the Constructs or the way that Wolver's fur burns, you've learned to figure out what separates useful resources from useless refuse. The world keeps spinning, knight. Keep up or die.

-Originite Prime Bundle (Arknights) (100CP)

You gain access to several crates of pure Originium that can be utilized for various means, and will restock itself every week. Wrong handling will be dangerous, however post-Jump, this will be perfectly safe to use in any way. * A common mineral in Terra, this semi-transparent black crystal contains enormous energy, and is the primary factor of causing Catastrophes. Widely used in the field of Arts, it works as the basic material and catalyst of all kinds of Arts and Arts items. Without Originium, the efficiency of Arts would, without a doubt, drop dramatically. As technologies develop, more and more countries start to use it as an energy source.

-I Know What We're Going To Do Today (Phineas and Ferb) (400CP)

24 hours just doesn't seem like enough time to get stuff accomplished, but you'd be surprised what determination (and this perk) can get you. You can now complete days and even weeks worth of work in just a few hours, and this effect increases tremendously when you have a few helpers, to the point where a small team can work with you to complete years worth of work in a simple afternoon.

-Enemy Tech Progression (Orion's Arm: The Amalgamation) (400CP)

Any technological device that you have subverted will reveal its inner workings to you. The blueprints, knowledge and methods that go into the creation and operation of the technology you subvert is automatically uploaded to your mind. If you cannot subvert a technological device, you can still learn its secrets, but at a far reduced rate. You are also able to more quickly grasp the inner workings of those subverted devices to improve on, and upgrade them.