"This changes everything, doesn't it?" she asked softly. Solae hadn't been brave enough to look through the names of the individuals for which there were genetic samples. The marquise knew that no one would have bothered with sophisticated equipment and the upkeep of medical material unless it was worthy of such effort. Some part of herself felt it was safer, that her ignorance would shield her from exponentially more emotional pain, if she didn't know the precise extent of the vault's reach. Traditionally when a nobleman or woman died such pieces of themselves were destroyed. That didn't mean many wouldn't prefer to skirt this moral obligation. During times of conflict many heirs to prestigious lineages died without a child to carry on their pure bloodline, or someone fell ill before they had a chance to conceive with their suitor, or they could not quite get permission for more offspring but wanted more descendants.

It was societal pressure that kept this ethical gray area from being explored. Dukes and duchesses, who were held in the highest regard unless they staged a coup like Duke Tan, would shun anyone who greedily tried to have an entire brood rather than the more acceptable one to four children. There would be whispers about deranged, desperate parents if they volunteered an egg from their deceased daughter to a surrogate- and they would find nearly impossible to find anyone willing to concede their sperm for such a ghoulish affair. The aristocracy found it tasteful by and large; however, this did not make it any less powerful. If Solae truly had any hidden ancestors of high stature she could be elevated by virtue of her pedigree and innocence relative these machinations.

With a sigh she rested her head against Rene's shoulder and tried to put it out of her mind. None of it mattered if she did not find a way to survive Zatis. It was comforting that her fiance thought no less of her but his opinion would not cure their situation. This planet was hostile to them now that the bounty had been broadcasted. There were few worse places to be than on a world filled with criminals and mercenaries that unabashedly worshiped the coin. Only extortion and threats might make them stand down or consider shifting their loyalties.

The device let out a soft ding to alert it had finished decompressing and decrypting all the data that had been recently uploaded. Rather than move from where she was curled up in her seat as close to her soldier paramour as was humanly possible, Solae gently lifted the screen and pulled it closer. The AI had found records relating to almost three-quarters of the names on her list. This ought not to have been surprising but it was a pleasant turn of events all the same. Most of the people who had been on this more distant colony came from a long line of, as some of her ancient stories called them, 'ne'er do wells.' What ones for which there were no scandalous secrets they were either exceedingly clever or relatively new to the city.

Scanning the list there was quite an array of damning evidence, not the least of which was a man whom had decided to forego the proverbial snip- some found it emasculating and refused on principal- and fathered an illegitimate son with a married woman. "I always children of my own," she mused aloud, "which my mother found surprisingly maternal since I think for her I was more something she did out of obligation. She loved me, more fiercely than she might have after the miscarriages, but I never got the sense she dreamed of having a baby, that it was a fulfillment of need she had herself. I was worried that the empress might deny us when we get back to the central planets because you are still a marine. Now I'm not sure she'll discover something infinitely more appalling in my history. To have all this information on the underbelly of the empire the Falias had to have met at least a few. What if I've got as many skeletons in my closet as Ten?" she worried.

It was unlikely. Solae was visually very similar to her mother, a woman who also had unnaturally golden hair, and some selective edits had probably been made to the embryo that became the linguist to carry on this preferred trait. If her father or one of her grandparents had been compromised the temptation would have been to meddle with the acclaimed, accomplished, and revered rather than the dredges that had been exiled. Because she didn't know with certainty one way or another the marquise couldn't help but fear the worst irrationally.