You give your Nemesis a rude gesture and head for the other shuttle. Arrogance comes before a fall, and you have no desire to see It empowered for no reason. As the shuttle begins to ascend, you ponder over your actions. What drives you? Why have you chosen to reach for the stars? Three things come to your mind, and you consider each of them. Only one can dominate, and you must choose it.

Renown: to have your name known down the ages in fame and glory. You would gain an Air of Authority, and be a leader amongst men.

Pride: in your house and yourself. Not the prickly kind that inspires honor-duels and blood-feuds over spilt drinks, the kind that stiffens your spine and prods you to prove others wrong just because you can. You would gain a relic from your family's history.

Prestige: If the Imperium is a hierarchy, then you will stand as high in it as you can. By wit or will, blade or bullet, you will climb as high as you can. You would gain an extra skill, something you would not normally have.