[x] - Your Technical Credentials: Your heart pumps engine oil. You breathe promethium. Is it the machine spirits, or is it your own aptitude? In any case, you were an artillery officer. Your battery of big guns never choked, not once, to the frustration of the Mechanicus. There's no one better to personally see to the defense of Zelung Delta. You dream of anti-orbital guns gutting battleships.
[x] [X]- The Number Two: The lieutenant governor reached out to you, first. Foreigner she may be, she's intimately aware that the current planetary governor has no plans to move his ass out of his seat any time this century. You have to respect the daring of this woman. Her first move is to engineer an entire traitor coup. The Conspiracy doesn't think that she'll be loyal all the way, no, but if she wants to play ball, why not use her? Just keep a gun to her back in case she tries to sell out again.