Sound and Silence

Edition 1.0
Pierce Fraser

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 SOUND
Intro 4 TTI 64
Story 64
Life Within 67
HISTORY Rumors and Conjecture 67
Architecture 74
Stages of Action 6 Agents 76
Stage One Revealed 8 Progenitus 80
Stage Two Revealed 8 Story 81
Stage Three Revealed 9 Life Within 83
Stage Four Revealed 10 Rumors and Conjecture 84
Stage Five Revealed 10 Agents 87
Stage Six Revealed 11 Architecture 90
Stage Seven Revealed 13
Map 14
Pulse 92
Story 92

Life Within 95
Rumors and Conjecture 97
ECONOMY Agents 102
Architecture 104

Perceived Scarcity and Employment 17 Spyglass 106
Hotzones 18 Story 106
Darkwars 20 Life Within 110
Architecture 112
Rumor and Conjecture 114
MEGACORPS Agents 115

Lumen 118
CEO’s 21 Everything the Light Touches 119
Corporate rivalry 22 A Social Experiment 120
ASR/Pulse 22 The Weakness 121
Spyglass/IRPF 23
Progenitus/TTI 25
MarsCo/Lumen 27 GROTTOS

Grottos of note 126
CORPORATE RULE Longbow 126
Themes of Longbow 127
Advanced Looks into Corps 28 The Empyrean 128
Themes of The Empyrean 129
MarsCo 28 The Long Now 129
Story 28
Themes of The Long Now 130
Life Within 31
The Digital Collective 130
Rumors and Conjecture 32
Themes of the Collective 131
Architecture 34

Agents 36
ASR 40 UNIVERSITIES
Story 40
Life Within 44 Universities of note 132
Architecture 46 Reflection 132
Rumors and Conjecture 48 The Harbingers 132
Agents 49 Reunification Front 134
IRPF 52 Renewal 135
Story 52
Life Within 56
Architecture 58
Rumors and Conjecture 60
Agents 61
 SILENCE TRANSCENDENCE
Intro 136 In the Beginning 176
Behind the Scenes 178
MONSTERS The First Whisper 179
Project Recursion 180
In the Beginning 141 The Final Recursion 181
Taln Hiemdal 181
The Monster Program 141 The Nephelim Codex 183
Building a monster 142 The Other 183
The Foea 186
Unnatural born killers 144 The Nephilim 189
The others 144 Hydra in the Universe 189
Six months 146 The Other in the Universe 190
Salvation 146 The Nephilim in the Universe 191
Life without humanity 148 The Nephilim Mana Platform 191
Come the Red 148 Hush 192
Palemen in the Universe 149 Hush’s True Nature 193
Selkies in the Universe 150 The Ruby Spire 193
Dragons in the Universe 150
Duality of Purpose 150
NEAR-CUIL REALMS
MASTER’S VOICE MCMs in Near-Cuil 196
Vesper 197
MCM Activity 198
Silent History 152 Transit 198
Discovery 154 Player Risk in Vesper 198
The Quiet War 156 Fractal 199
University 156 MCM activity 200
Transit 200
Future 157 Player Risk in Fractal 200
The Quiet War in the Universe 158
The Master’s Voice in the Universe 159 Stifle 201
Transit 202
Player Risk in Stifle 203
THE SHADOW PRESIDENCY Vast 204
MCM Activity 205
Beginnings 160 Transit 205
Player Risk in Vast 206
Relationships 161
Writhe 207
The Boardroom 161 MCM Activity 208
Current Presidents 162 Transit 209
ASR 162 Legacy Memory 209
Spyglass 163 Player Risk in Writhe 209
Progenitus 165 Glow 210
IRPF 166
Pulse 169
TTI 170 LEVELS OF
MarsCo 172
TRANSCENDENT KNOWLEDGE
The Shadow Presidency in the
Universe 173
 Canon doubt is a key feature of HSD, as is the
understanding that the information you’re told may be
true from the eyes of those telling it, but is based on
centuries of misinformation from an essentially nonex-
istent primary source, and is, by extension, all suspect.
But for those parties that wish to delve into history,
there are a few pieces of the past that can be cate-
gorically disproven if you talk to the right people. It’s
just a matter of deciding what to do with that infor-
mation once you have it. Sol’s population isn’t looking
to share space with humanity, nor is anyone terribly
interested in feeling guilty over an event that hap-
pened 700 years ago. But, echoes of the past can be
found in the present, and, with the right information, a
few modern day mysteries can become a lot clearer to
an investigative party.
The information in Sound and Silence can all
be located somewhere in the HSD universe. The stories
in Sound are easier to find (most of them aren’t even
hidden) but the secrets in Silence are closely guarded
and available to very few people. Finding this informa-
tion makes for great lengthy quests, and figuring out
what you want to do with it is ultimately your decision.
None of it will lead to a winning revelation or some
clever line you can drop to achieve ultimate victory
in the game, as it’s just not that sort of environment,
but knowledge is always power if you can leverage
it properly. This book will offer story suggestions and
character hooks to help you best make use of this info
periodically, but you should consider how it slots into
your overall campaign ideas, if it does at all. Remem-
ber, much of this stuff is secret and not every charac-
ter will have the desire to go through the footwork
required to learn it.
Sound and Silence are two connected books
in a set pertaining to HSD’s lore. Sound deals with
common knowledge and secrets that most savvy in-
dividuals can eventually discover. Players can read it
with impunity. They’ll learn a few darker details about
the megacorps and inter-corp relationships that aren’t
exactly public knowledge, but characters would realize
them after working independently in Sol for a while
anyways. It’s a great campaign guide and a way to
broaden your view of Sol.
Silence is a different story. The secrets in Si-
lence are fun to learn through play, and entire cam-
paigns can be crafted around finding them, but they
are significantly better hidden than the ones in Sound.
Much of this content is known only to a hand-
ful of people in Sol. If your Guide plans to implement
it, you may spoil a great play experience for yourself
by reading ahead. Talk to your Guides and see what
they’re planning before diving into Silence. Guides
should likewise understand that this information is can-
on to the HSD universe only because the environment
needs a canon or it can’t evolve. It is not a require-
ment that you stick to it, and the universe is ultimately
yours to play in as you will. Add your flair and personal
touches, and play off the established events to create
new ones following the theme of the originals. This can
allow your players to read the book and get excited
about specific themes while still giving you the oppor-
tunity to surprise them within those themes.
 Stage One: The Creation of the Geomat.
This considered by most to be the spark
that would eventually grow into the fires of
war. Once it became possible to move out
of areas directly controlled by longstanding
central governments, a divide grew in hu-
manity’s concept of governance. A MarsCo
predecessor is generally given credit for the
invention of the technology that gave rise to
these machines, but there is no evidence of
that beyond what has been agreed upon for
convenience due to the fact that all surviv-
ing Earth organizations homogenized into
MarsCo subsidiaries after the war. You could
essentially make that claim of anything.
Stage Two: The Race to Mars. Some schools
tie this in with stage one, as both deal with
dividing one population from another both
mentally and physically, but the Mars colony
is important in that it placed an operator
outside the physical reach of its government
ties. This also marks the founding of Mars-
Co, which typically constitutes a lesson on
its own, and it may contribute to stage two
being held separate from stage one. Even
non-MarsCo corptowns tend to emphasize
MarsCo as being the “birthplace” of the
Vector race. It puts credit where credit is
due, but it also makes their own corps look
progressive by comparison.
Stage Three: The Invention and Destruction
of Made-to-Order Pets. Some schools ac-
tually begin the lesson here and bypass the
geomat entirely, claiming that molecular
construction technology was not inherently
connected to the war so much as something
that was utilized heavily prior to it. Others
claim that this stage would never have been
reached had corporations not been able to
work on then-forbidden experiments under
the safety of their own independent “nations.”
MarsCo, while in existence at this time, is
not usually linked to this event at the time it
happened.
 Stage Four: The Advent of Vectors. This is
generally pointed to as the most important
contributing factor to the beginning of the
war, but only insomuch as it was the spark
that fell on the already mountainous pile
of gunpowder left on the ground by stage
three. Most of this stage is well document-
ed, except for the beginning, which is said
to have stemmed from an anonymous email
from Earth containing blueprints and con-
cepts for the custom pet line and a heartfelt
plea to rescue them. Secure in their martian
headquarters, MarsCo took it upon itself
to create a new generation of artificial
lifeform. One akin to humanity in stature
and intelligence, that could not be so easily
pushed aside.
Stage Five: Pre-Nuclear War. Governments
and social structures wrapped Vectors into
previously existing legislation regarding
artificial life, denying them citizenship and
branding them as second-rate to humani-
ty in the eyes of their citizenry. They had a
lot of support, but also a lot of opposition.
Lines were drawn in the sand, and humanity
was forced to take sides between support-
ing technology that put them in a position
normally reserved for deities or shutting
it down once and for all, and perpetually
labelling created life as inherently inferior. It
was a conflict that proved too great to solve
peaceably, and with the traditional govern-
ments of Earth on one side, and the majority
of independent corp towns in MarsCo’s sup-
port on the other, Earth went to war.
Stage Six: Nuclear War. The jump between
armed conflict and nuclear-armed conflict
is roughly a paragraph long in the history
books, despite having taken years in what is
understood to be the overall timeline of the
war. In-depth examinations of this subject
cite a few noteworthy conflicts, generally
focusing on areas with high non-combatant
death tolls. Vector history claims that the
united governments of Earth turned to nucle-
ar weaponry because they ran out of bullets
and weren’t ready to surrender yet. Left with
few other options, a lack of income from
their rebelling corporations, and a psycho-
logical obligation to continue what had been
cemented as a moral imperative -fighting
the creation of artificial life- they turned to
weaponry only the governments of Earth had
access to.
 Stages of Action
As the modern day population
of Sol understands it, the last years
of humanity took place in seven
distinct stages of action. In each of
these stages, some event occurred
that furthered the progression of
the species toward their inevitable
destruction. This period of humanity
is included in every child’s education,
but it’s a fairly vague and allegori-
cal lesson. Having begun without a
HISTORY
history, Vector society doesn’t put a
whole lot of emphasis on learning it.
In order to push the current reign-
ing agenda, humanity is best served
up as a metaphor for why certain
socially unpopular actions should be
avoided, and why other, more cor-
porately pushed ideals should be
embraced. It’s a very old method of
controlling action, but it works, and it
works particularly well in Sol because
there are no other living examples
to look at, and the only evidence of
“another way” is currently inhabited by
the stuff of nightmares.
MarsCo textbooks spin the
entire event in a distinctly pro-corp lan-
guage, which is to be expected of the
people who wrote it. The major issue
in the current generation is that there
is no longer a way to remove that spin.
As the winners of a global conflict that
resulted in the entire opposing force
being removed, there is no conflicting
evidence remaining to use as a coun-
terpoint to the claims of history. And
even if some small amount was found, it
would have to stand up to what is now
centuries of support for the established
narrative.
Stage One Revealed
When presented to modern
Sol audiences, stage one is used as a
harbinger to a larger schism of ideals,
brought on primarily by an increase in
personal communication as a result of
the advent and growth of the internet.
As this global network of communication
flourished, people gained friends from
areas spanning the globe, and identi-
fied with foreign personalities in ways
that were impossible in earlier
generations. This led to conflicts
of interest when countries
8 would take issue with one
another on a government level.
The geomat is then introduced
as a business “solution,” or “alternative,”
way of life, in which a large organiza-
tion like a company could generate its
own terrain to live on, carving it from
mountains or bringing it up from the
sea, or simply reformatting an area that
already exists and is poorly maintained
due to a lack of money.
Geomats changed the face of
labor. They required a sizable crew (at
the time) but nothing compared to the
workforce needed to actually build a
city from scratch in a traditional fash-
ion, or even to maintain one. Likewise,
while the machines were massive and
polluting, what they could accomplish vs
what resources would be spent trying to
do the same jobs via traditional build-
ing equipment, commuting, fuel con-
sumption and overall employee power
made them vastly more “green.” Vector
history points to this as a catalyst for
corporate education on a mass level,
primarily to train people for science
and technology jobs within the newly
formed corporate settlements, which
enjoyed special privileges within nation-
al borders due to the enormous income
they provided.
Stage Two Revealed
In modern Sol, stage two’s most
emphasized points are the creation of
MarsCo and the beginnings of life on
Mars, which would eventually become
the birthplace of the Vector race.
There are differing reports of exactly
how much time took place between this
stage and stage three. Most renditions
make it out to be a pretty short tran-
sition, but there are others who be-
lieve it may have actually been quite a
while. Perhaps even long enough for the
Mars colony to swap out personnel and
change operations a few times.
This detail is important to the
overall narrative because it introduces
the idea that MarsCo’s eventual actions
may not have actually been in line with
its initial ideas when it was founded,
which pops up a few times over the
course of the narrative. If true, it points
to the eventual war being more per-
sonal than an act of compelled benev-
olence related to the extinction of the
creatures formed in stage three. The
trick becomes determining if the even-
tual shift in MarsCo activity was a result
of someone, or several someones, arriv-
ing with a fresh intent to change gears,
or if the colony was always intended to
be disruptive and provocative but its
initial crew simply weren’t informed of
that fact.
Stage Three Revealed
Vector education typically
portrays this as a point of no return.
Possibly because its one of the more
dramatic points in terms of pre-war
body count, possibly because the tech-
nology used here eventually evolved into
the technology that made the Vectors,
so in a metaphorical sense, these seem
like prototypes who were killed with-
out a chance to defend themselves. It
becomes personal, at this stage. This is
one of the few well-documented por-
tions of the historical record, as it was
a heavily publicized event. This is also
one aspect of the record considered
by just about every reputable source to
be true: the custom pets did exist and
were subsequently condemned to death
after becoming too “human” looking. The
extent of their damnation, however, is
not agreed upon.
Modern Vector history claims
that the custom pets were already
treading on a thin line in accepted mor-
al behavior, one which was enforced by
government laws at the time. Allegedly,
before new laws could be put in place
to determine how many or what criteria
would govern the creation of custom
lifeforms, people involved with the proj-
ect began creating bipedal, human-ish
animals with pet-like minds. It added
a huge demand on an already booming
new business, but crossed a line with the
powers that be. Laws were put in place
banning the creation of additional cus-
tom life of any kind, and the creatures
that already existed were to be steril-
ized or killed.
The motive is believable by Vec-
tor understandings of human behavior,
but the details are shaky. Most lessons
teach that the pets were actively hunt-
ed and killed, usually by angry civilians
or official government agencies, but
the few documents that point to that
behavior are recognizably sensational-
ist, even without much context by which
to judge them. The number of pets that
died or were created to begin with is
also unconfirmed. The party line is
tens to hundreds of thousands, but
discrepancies exist with the proposed
population of these large creatures
(even the non-bipedal ones were
close to human sized in most cases,
if not larger) and food consump-
tion data for the time. The original
genomes for custom pets did not
include any particular sort of meta-
bolic curbing aside from their short
lifespans. Each one of human stature
should have eaten, drunk, and oth-
erwise consumed a little less than a
HISTORY
human would. Census data that has
survived from this period has a hard
time supporting the supposed bloom
in numbers, suggesting that the over-
all population of the creatures may
have been much lower than is gen-
erally taught. This casts doubt on the
motivation for stage four and makes
it look a bit more like a personal
vendetta rather than an act of justice
for a species ordered to death by a
supposedly vindictive government.
Stage Four Revealed
Stage four paints a pretty pic-
ture of researchers who didn’t want to
see new life destroyed by blind adher-
ence to old ways, and that’s generally
how it’s presented. However, that orig-
inal email pleading for the salvation of
artificial life does not exist (or rather, it
does, but there’s no way to prove it’s the
original, and wasn’t just made up after
the fact to look the part).
The origin of the email is a
particularly important detail, and is one
that is usually focused on by pre-war
conspiracy theorists. If it turned out
that there was never an email to begin
with, it would suggest that the creation
of the Vector race was actually pre-
planned for Mars and not the result of
anything that had happened on Earth,
which shifts the role of antagonist onto
MarsCo without giving them a sympa-
thetic safety net to fall back on. MarsCo
schools don’t include this as a possibility
in their lessons, and by extension, neither
do the schools of many other corpora-
tions.
Also missing from this step is
confirmation of the Mars colony’s
actual size. Numbers and blue-
prints are currently available
describing the Mars colony, 9
 but they differ from second-hand
reports of the same numbers and
blueprints from centuries earlier, sug-
gesting that the actual “official” doc-
uments have gradually changed over
the years. Older reports describe
the Mars colony as a much smaller
operation than generally thought,
which in turn makes the Vector proj-
ect look more like a personal agenda
than a decision made by a large and
thoughtful populace.
Stringing together “what-ifs”
from the past three stages creates a
HISTORY
believable chance that many of the
steps leading up to Vector creation
were the collective efforts of a few
rich eccentrics who wanted to play
God and wouldn’t accept it when the
governments of Earth told them “no,”
and that theory is the most com-
monly proposed one whenever any
genuine questioning of the historical
record takes place. But even with
the doubts in the record, there are
some stand-out details that make
this argument difficult to accept. The
argument uses the lack of a timetable
for MarsCo’s pre-Vector existence as
potential evidence for the assembly of a
long term plan, but it could just as easily
mean that not enough, or too much,
time passed to have that be a realistic
possibility. But even more telling is the
sheer number of participants in stage
five, and the frantic escalation of the
conflict.
Stage Five Revealed
This is generally pitched as a
progressive complication of stage four,
and an overall inevitability due to the
things that came before it. Details
like “who shot first” or “where the first
battles took place” are less forthcom-
ing, due largely to how unconventional
the war was to begin with. No official
declarations of hostility were ever found
(this is credited to the unwillingness
of governments to acknowledge the
legitimacy of their enemy’s sovereignty,
which they would have had to do with
a formal declaration of war), but there
are various citations from future publi-
cations that toss the word “war” around
pretty freely.
There is a large focus in
Vector education on the battle
10 lines being between the corps
and Earth governments. It highlights the
various social issues that popped up as
a result of hostilities against organi-
zations rather than nations here, such
as having to send military forces into
civilian populations to dismantle cor-
porations from within because there
wasn’t a clearly defined “foreign threat”
to attack. The lesson paints the whole
operation grimly from the government
side, as it depicts them parading armed
through the streets, opening fire on
buildings and yanking people from their
corporately owned homes. Without
much of human experience to go on,
it’s difficult for a Vector to necessarily
contest this. There are surviving records
of similar behavior in earlier parts of
human history, and with no context to
compare them with a repeat of such
actions seems perfectly feasible. How-
ever, when set against earlier behaviors
by the same nations within the same
conflict, such a response seems extreme.
One of the more popular theo-
ries accompanying the stage five event
is that one or more of the major gov-
ernments involved actually restructured
themselves before the fighting began,
possibly leading to situations which
would have otherwise seemed impos-
sible. This could have been a natural
function of the established government
that Vectors didn’t really know about,
or it could have been some sort of
coup that took place because of public
disappointment with the handling of
previous events. Vector economists have
pointed out that it was very likely that
many of the large government players
in stage five were experiencing major
recessions at this point, due to their
corporate resources no longer behaving.
That might have contributed to de-
mands for new forms of leadership that
could get money out of corporate hands
and back to the public. The theory is
supported by lingering evidence that
many established Earth governments
had multiple different leaders during
relatively short periods of time with no
evidence of assassination or violence,
suggesting that there was a system in
place for replacing them after a set
period of time. This is not a concept
taught or confirmed in the established
historical curriculum, either because
confirmation isn’t certain, or because
it makes the old system of government
look more flexible than the corps would
like.
But the biggest question in this
era is the accuracy of the assumption
that the war was actually a two-sided
conflict between united corps and unit-
ed governments. The historical evidence
points to Terra Firma, a united Earth
government, as evidence of the like-
lihood of this. But Terra Firma doesn’t
show up in records until years after hos-
tilities begin, and Vector understanding
of Earth’s pre-war power distribution
isn’t detailed enough to really guess at
how many of which people were actu-
ally fighting. Moreover, while conflict
had been brewing between many large
organizations and their parent govern-
ments since the banning of what was
obviously a trillion-dollar industry, there
was little evidence to suggest that ev-
ery single one of them had joined forces
into a unified front at this stage. But
by the beginning of stage six, the lines
are much clearer. While history tends
to claim this solidarity was present at
the onset of the war, many suspect it
actually took place during the second
Vector population enhancement phase,
also called the Golden Generation,
during which it became clear that Mars
had no intention of stopping its opera-
tion, and humanity was facing an all-or-
nothing choice of supporting the now
high population of non-human sapients,
or wiping them out.
Stage Six Revealed
The nuclear stage is where
information on the war become the
sketchiest. Details like strike zones and
numbers of warheads are plentiful
(though their accuracy is debatable, as
it would have been easy to make up the
numbers after the fact), but things like
exact combat behavior and doctrine
are all but nonexistent. As is motivation.
There’s a degree of truth in the Vector
depiction of Terra Firma’s reasoning, in
a distant, objective sort of way, but it
would be more accurate to say they ran
out of food and weren’t ready to starve,
rather than running out of bullets and
still wanting to fight.
One of the largest questions at
this stage is what exactly the corporate
resistance was fighting with. The books
generally claim that the corporate front
fought with information, subterfuge, and
hired military forces, with the latter
being described as loyal citizenry
trained and equipped by the corps.
It paints a picture of a roaming
resistance, where small groups with
laptops and handguns somehow
thwarted entire platoons of soldiers
and armored lines at regular inter-
vals. It’s a heroic story for the little
guy, but it runs into logistical issues
under scrutiny. How did they actually
damage their assailants? Where did
they operate from? If they had such
rampant control over the enemy mis-
sile systems, why couldn’t they disable
HISTORY
them before launch?
Countertheories span the
map on this stage. A popular one
revolves around the apparent abil-
ity of the corporations to redirect
missile strikes intended for them and
send them back toward the enemy,
which history claims was then publi-
cized as the corporations attacking
directly. However, previously accept-
ed fact put geomats in the hands of
the corporations, giving them active
access to machines and technology that
could refine plutonium, mine silos, and
produce all the chemicals required for
missile fuel. The premise is that while it
may have been true the corporations
were not allowed to produce nuclear
weapons prior to the war, if they had
the means and the motive, and the war
had already resulted in them breaking
rules of moral behavior, what exactly
was left to stop them? Was the nuclear
war truly one-sided? Even if they didn’t
end up making any, would an attempt to
make some be sufficient cause for the
united governments of Earth to sanction
the use of nuclear weapons expressly
targeting operating geomats in order
to prevent further escalation of the
war? And if so, and accepting that the
corporations could apparently redirect
strikes, would it not then be logical
that retaliatory attacks on their behalf
would involve blowing up missiles before
they’d been launched at all, rather than
redirecting them?
Furthermore, there are theories
in different directions around loosely
understood “rules of engagement.” Vec-
tor-kind understands that there existed
various outlines of how wars were to
be fought during the time of
humanity. When covered in les-
sons, this is largely portrayed
as a laughable concept, and 11
 Stage Seven: the Outside Influence.

It is understood that at some point during the nuclear conflict, a new

system was employed that took control over all the remaining WMDs on
Earth and began methodically blanketing the planet with them, destroying
what looked to be a near-resolution to the conflict. According to history,
the system (usually portrayed as a sort of computer virus) was created by
corporate operatives as a means of halting the nuclear war and forcing
negotiation. It had an unexplained ability to travel through any medium of
communication, transcending wires and signals and worming into computer
systems through access points that shouldn’t exist. Hydra, as it was called,
was the ultimate infiltrator. Its technology had never before been wit-
nessed in the war, and no records exist to public knowledge as to where or
how it was created. But while its deployment succeeded in seizing control
of all of Earth’s remaining launch systems in a matter of hours, something
still went critically wrong. Rather than hold the missiles in a disabled state,
Hydra, governed by unknown intelligence, set off a systematic string of
launches that blanketed Earth in fire, killing friend and foe alike. It took
five years for life on Earth to end completely, and Mars could see the
points of light on Earth’s surface glimmer in brief flashes as what remained
of humanity snuffed itself out like a candle in the night.

First generation Vectors were 15 years old, and second generation

Vectors were 8 years old.

Earth was effectively sterilized.

sometimes used as an object lesson to
depict the inflexibility of government as
being so locked that they even dictat-
ed how people were allowed to fight
for their lives. It is generally accept-
ed that the “clever” fighters of the
corporate side worked around these
rules, bypassing or ignoring them to hit
government military there they didn’t
expect it. But the exact nature of these
bypasses is shrouded in propaganda of
heroic teams somehow shooting elec-
tric hacker-lasers out of streetlamps
or somesuch and sending the enemy
scattering.
When one examines the
exact nature of the rules of en-
gagement and why they were
implemented, a grimmer picture
comes into view. One where the
corporate insurgent forces may
have done things like poisoned
food sources, or bought out smaller
countries to make use of their military,
or used their chemical manipulation
technology to produce potent bioweap-
onry capable of killing vast populations
without destroying their equipment.
The sorts of behavior that would drive
nuclear retaliation from unthinkable to
unavoidable. Considering the technology they had on
hand and the small numbers they were purported to
have had available, these sorts of grimly inhumane at-
tacks become far more likely to be true than somehow
thwarting an army with handguns on a street corner.
They also shed light on the infrastructure breakdown,
which history claims was due to a lack of money and
capital, but would also likely have included a lack of
food, water, medical care, and a place of safety to fall
back on.
This stage has many missing chapters that
speak more clearly of altered information than most
of the others, and has frustrated Vector historians for
generations because no amount of digging is going
to find what isn’t there to find. Starting over on a new
world with all information emanating out of a single
source, which also controls said world, meant MarsCo
didn’t have to ‘hide’ anything, they could simply re-
move altogether what they didn’t want to be seen and
there would be no one to claim otherwise. Digging is
already difficult to do: it’s been attempted many times
in the 700-year history since the war and nothing of
consequence has ever emerged from it, because any
contradictory information probably no longer exists.
There would be no reason for MarsCo to keep it: it
would just make them look bad, and there’s no longer
a semblance of early Earth society to apologize to if
anything was ever found. The repeated failed attempts
make every new investigation look more frivolous and
less relevant, and they’ve long since become unpopular
in the public eye.
Stage Seven Revealed
This is every young Vector’s
favorite part of the history lesson,
because it’s the only part where the
establishment says “we don’t know,”
and imaginations can run wild a bit.
Contemporary explanations claim
that the “virus” interacted with an
already present emergency program
the corps didn’t know about, one
that would fire the remaining
payloads as a failsafe in the
HISTORY
event that it detected a digital
incursion. Nothing is really prov-
able, including counter-claims
that the original program was
intended to do exactly what
happened in the first place so
Mars could continue on alone.
What’s more, MarsCo has never
attempted to absolve itself or its
supporters of the eventual out-
come. This is the stage where the
megacorps step up and say “some-
thing happened, we don’t know what.
It wasn’t planned, but we may share
responsibility in it,” which subsequent-
ly makes the previous stages easier to swallow. Be-
cause if they’ll sit under the shadow of this, surely they
wouldn’t hide the comparatively lesser offenses cited
earlier. For those with more in-depth knowledge, how-
ever, there is another culprit that goes largely unspo-
ken of in most renditions of stage seven.
“Hydra” is not a term universally associated with
this event. Typically, if it’s mentioned at all, it’s used as
a project name for the virus that was intended to halt
all further WMD launches on Earth. “Project Hydra” is
more common. The only facilities that shy away from
this descriptor are ASR and TTI schools. ASR histori-
ans tend to focus on detail and minutia when it comes
to specific events in history, and the term “Hydra” is
used broadly in the few areas it’s referenced here, so
they don’t typically apply it to the program itself. TTI
presents stage seven as an entirely different event, in
which a foreign power named Hydra intervened with
the war in ways that were predictably devastating
in order to force a conclusion of hostilities and allow
the rest of the solar system to move on. They generally
present it as a “third party” in their schools, one whose
motives lay outside both the warring factions and who
was tapped late in the war when no other options
remained. At their highest levels, they know better, but
that sort of thing isn’t included in the history lessons.
Hydra has a more sinister root in this story that
stems back before Vectors existed, but that is
a very well-kept secret.
13
 ECONOMY things up so much as simply delete facts. With nothing
else to reference, the absence can never be resolved.
But humanity’s end was not the only result of
Taking marginal blame for stage seven helps
those decisions so long ago, and to this day Sol feels
keep MarsCo, and by extension Vector-kind, be-
the repercussions of other things, unknown to the pub-
lievably involved-but-blameless in the extinction
lic, that have shaped the present. Things that are very
of humanity. The final nail in the coffin is a large
relevant, from technological advancements to social
cross to bear, but so much of it is unexplained and
stagnation, and rather devastating information about
unverifiable that it’s difficult to assign too much
the monsters that now stalk through Sol’s shadows.
genuine shame to it. “Something weird happened
A lot of detailed data has been lost, reallocated, or
long ago, probably with the best of intentions, that
stolen over the years, but scattered throughout Sol are
backfired. Possibly due to something nefarious that
secrets to what the Palemen are, where the Whispers
was already in there to begin with that we didn’t
came from, why the Master’s Voice functions, and who
ECONOMY

know about.” It’s the sort of thing that can be easily

really runs Sol’s megacorps.
described as a tragic mistake rather than a de-
Knowing “the truth” won’t change the past,
liberate or nefarious attack. It was actually a little
and is largely irrelevant to modern day life, but what
of both, but even MarsCo isn’t fully aware of what
is relevant is the understanding that Sol, from its very
Hydra was. At least, not on a corporate level. The
beginning, has likely never encountered “the truth” at
information associated with it was stolen long ago
all. The information Sol is fed is all inherently tainted
and now belongs to TTI. Though they have a much
by centuries of cover-up and deception, and it has
clearer picture of what actually happened at that
persisted so long and so well that the majority of the
stage of the war, TTI maintains the story of the
populace simply accepts it now, or doesn’t believe
third party as a somewhat terrestrial entity. Reveal-
there’s a reason to doubt it. And so they continue to
ing the truth would cast light on much larger secrets
be ruled by wolves in sheep’s clothing, oblivious to the
that are still relevant today, and much more import-
level of control they’ve granted to organizations far
ant to keep.
less deserving of it than their history has taught them.
In the end, the takeaway lesson from stage
There are many corporations that could be
seven of humanity’s fall when it’s presented in schools
qualified as “mega” in the common era, but only a few
is that there was something else involved that was im-
that wear the title with a level of universal recognition.
portant, even pivotal to the extinction event, but would
Age has something to do with it: the majority of major
not have been able to accomplish what it did had
megacorporations have persisted for centuries and
the species not already been perched on the edge
have products that are universally used (or heavily used
of a cliff. The latter half of the message is strong-
by a minority population). Subsidiaries are another:
ly reinforced, as it makes the vague connection with
you don’t often deal with a megacorp directly, but you
Vector-kind less important compared to what human-
might interact with a dozen subsidiary corporations
ity had already done to itself. Most facilities will also
throughout your day. With enough subcorps to scat-
state that the chances of humanity surviving the con-
ter blame and maintain public support for the parent
dition they were in even before the Hydra event were
company when the big name swoops in to save the
pretty slim. That statement relies heavily on the fact
day on a smaller problem, it’s much easier to foster a
that nobody is left alive to argue with it, and is likely
generally positive public impression of the megacorps
untrue.
while shunting negative feelings toward smaller, dis-
Vector history in regards to humanity is dam-
posable sub-organizations. Perhaps most importantly,
aged. On a certain level, most people suspect it,
there’s a degree of direct control over infrastructure,
though they don’t know where specifically or in what
and as such, over the truth.
ways. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your
Sol as a collective whole often refers to itself
point of view), the cover-ups and edits have achieved
as an anarchy, or corporatocracy, depending on who
that most prized goal of any large scale scam: they
you ask. A place with no central government, controlled
have endured past the point of relevance. MarsCo
purely by the exchange of goods and currency, with
could probably come clean with a great deal of hid-
decisions made to best facilitate both. Its population
den information in the modern era and endure no more
has been fed this line for a long time, and it was made
than a few bouts of public scolding because there’s
much easier to swallow thanks to the fact that no one
no one around to feel the sting of betrayal anymore.
currently living has ever seen a traditional democracy,
Vectors have no specific desire to see humanity re-
nor are they particularly sure of the details of human
turn. They feel the solar system is rightfully theirs now.
government systems, human government philosophies,
MarsCo and the other megacorps of Sol have little to
or have any context for thousands of years of social
fear from an uprising on behalf of those who mourn for
growth and struggle that made way for them. Essen-
humanity, regardless of what gets exposed. In fair-
tially, it’s a well-tailored and carefully maintained lie
ness, that risk of exposure is also tremendously
that has served to keep certain forces in power for a
small. Having benefited from isolation at the
very long time, and it hinges, as most lies do, on rede-
16 end of the war, MarsCo didn’t need to cover
fining what the truth is.
 Sol does have government. Several, in fact. By
human standards, most corptowns exist in what would
probably be described as a benevolent dictator-
ship (and the “benevolence” is largely due to general
changes in perception). By the common era of the
game, the veil isn’t even particularly well-disguised
anymore. Megacorps make decisions based on the
trends they see through vast networks of information
gathering, and enforce those decisions through com-
binations of corptown law and social manipulation.
Residents essentially have to comply or leave. It’s total-
itarianism in action but lacks the usual tells that make
such governments so noticeable in human examples.
Specifically, there’s no one person at the top to blame,
and no individual ego being stroked. People can and
do leave one corptown for another when they find they
don’t like the local policies, and do so without being
threatened or shot. Populations are maintained through
competitive incentive. Life persists and is able to thrive
because the entities on the top of the heap can’t really
get much higher through things like needless exploita-
tion or enslavement, and generally have no ego-driven
need to beat people down in order to enforce some
sort of lifestyle model (primarily because, at that level,
there’s pretty much no personal need that can’t be
filled technologically instead).
Having always had advanced technology avail-
able, the exploitation of living resources (and people)
was less inherently profitable than it was in early
human society, and the cultural evolution of Vectors
ever since the Quiet War and the establishment of
the Shadow Presidency*(-see Silence) has tinted power
with an edge of personal fear. Humans have a long
and illustrious history of violently overthrowing gov-
ernments that oppress their people, and Vectors have
carried that tradition forward into their own society
without even realizing it. When the “governments” are
smaller and the technology can allow a single Vector
or small group to cause much greater damage, the
populace can and does put an end to oppressive re-
gimes with regularity. Megacorps learned early on that
it was in their best interests to remain above all that
as sort of silent rulers and let their subsidiaries make
the mistakes. Pushing their agendas then becomes a
series of manipulations through different influential
systems at the ground level, very few of which are tied
directly up to the top. Like some sort of massive drag-
on, the sheer bulk of a creature like MarsCo protects it
from most costly errors. Attacks, both literal and figu-
rative, that seem enormous on the public level actually
do very little damage to the whole of the business, but
it can retreat, look apologetic, change a few practic-
es and cycle out a few visible public figures, and the
masses will capitulate while the whole really hasn’t
changed much. The model has led to a curious situa-
tion where the public feels more or less free to behave
as they have been taught is socially acceptable with
a large degree of what they interpret as “freedom,”
while the subsidiary corporations are actually enslaved
to the megacorps and forced to exist by their will in
order to perpetuate the lies that keep the public
happy. In Sol, becoming more powerful actually
makes you less “free,” but it does open up interpre-
tations of the word that the majority doesn’t even
know it’s missing.
Perceived Scarcity and Employment
On some level or another, most Sol residents
understand that the resources available to them
through currency aren’t assigned value based on
their difficulty of production. They just don’t really
get the scope of it. If you ask most citizens why a
car costs more than a chair they’ll reply that the
ECONOMY
car is larger or more complicated to produce, and
as such, worth more. In a strictly factual sense, this
is correct, but from a practical standpoint, they’re
pretty damned close to each other. The printer does
need to call on heavier materials to build the car,
but it isn’t working harder to do it, and the conver-
sion isn’t all that much more difficult to facilitate.
Automated and molecular assembly of complex
mechanical objects has been a technological reality
for a very long time, and the car is just a file on a
network somewhere, probably just a few kilobytes
larger than the chair is. Maintaining a system of
value with technology like this available has re-
quired very careful social tailoring and the deliberate
withholding of certain advancements.
The illusion begins by finding something that
genuinely IS scarce and using it as a base to assign
values to other things that aren’t. Talent is the scarce
commodity. Designers, artists, inventors, innovators, and
engineers, are all commodities that corps will buy up
in bulk to create unique individual variations on com-
mon themes, so as to attach exclusivity to everyday
purchases. As new designs become trendy, features
associated with the design will cycle back into service
while other features will cycle out of service to be
included later. Always, there is a deliberate planned
obsolescence with most, if not all, material goods. This
helps breed a false belief that making permanent,
robust objects is something only the industrial print-
ers can do, which, again, helps promote exclusivity in
objects. The average citizen, for example, will replace
Character Concept: Bodyguard
Spyglass, Progenitus, and Pulse, all take
personal interest in unique individuals.
Characters with combat backgrounds can
serve double roles as scouts, searching for
unique talent and then protecting it until
it can be brought to market. Your client
might be an NPC or even another player
depending on the story.
17
 their toggle on a monthly, if not weekly, basis.
Not necessarily because it breaks, but because
that’s how things are done, and all you need to do
is grab a new one out of the machine when the
old one gets dirty. This also promotes a system of
constant material exchange, ensuring that heavy
elements are always banked and available in print
systems.
A lot of the modern economy is built off a mar-
keting lie, but it hasn’t been an entirely greed-driv-
en endeavor. “Post-scarcity” does not mean “perfect.”
Land is a limited quantity, as is the scope of pos-
session, or how much power one person is able to
ECONOMY
exert over another, etc. Having a functioning curren-
cy system, even one based on a concept of scarcity
that isn’t particularly real anymore, has been essen-
tial for allowing many key features of Sol’s society
to continue functioning. This was particularly im-
portant in the early days when some sort of capital
exchange was necessary for Mars to fund its own
expansion and get people working. In the modern
era, much of it continues rolling on its own momen-
tum because it functions, but it carries the usual
problems with any capitalist system: those with the
money make the rules, and it’s awfully hard to take
it from them.
Within the game environment, the minutia of
currency exchange and Sol’s economy doesn’t exactly
make for thrilling storytelling, but it does allow you
to have rich characters and poor characters, create
villains from different walks of life, and toy around with
grottos and areas that appear to have high wealth
without having “wealth” at all. It’s also intended to give
you another layer of things to play with regarding
social position and how wealth doesn’t always trans-
late to power or vice versa in the HSD universe. Many
CEOs of powerful corps are little more than slaves and
puppets to parent corporations, and the only people
with real freedom from corporate control are living in
custom, hidden villages shunned or feared by most of
society. Life’s not always great in those, either. Typi-
cally, to make a new system of government work, any
system, you need to enforce the rules awfully hard. This
makes many grottos rather unforgiving. They also tend
to be flat broke from a corptown standpoint, but their
possession of energy and manufacturing devices makes
it appear otherwise from within. This is one of the
major contributing factors to grottos being an all-or-
nothing lifestyle choice. Once you’re in one, you pretty
much come out at zero if you decide to leave it, hence
why they work so hard to defend themselves from cor-
porate invasion: if they get taken out, there isn’t much
of a life waiting for them on the other side.
HOTZONES
“Hotzone” is a term used to describe
when two corps have reached a situation
18 that can’t be solved through negotiation
and have to turn violent, usually resulting in limited but
dangerous fighting in one or several offices, or a block
or two. They can be very profitable endeavors and
typically result in very solid exchanges of power when
they end. It’s a dangerous game to play repeatedly (if
the neighbors start getting worried about a bully corp,
they can join together to remove them), but if applied
sparingly and for publicly acceptable reasons (which
careful social tailoring has widened the definition of
over time), it’s very useful. Sometimes to both ends, if
you stage it right.
Everyone in Sol who exists in a corp society
will experience a hotzone at some point in their lives,
close enough to see. Often multiple times. It may
not happen with regularity, or on large scales, but it
happens enough that the experience is pretty univer-
sal. Hotzones can involve hired guns, professionals, or
just armed employees, depending on the nature of
the fight. They’re very public affairs, so the escala-
tion is carefully managed. You generally don’t want a
hotzone to be a massacre for one side or another: it
makes them look merciless. There’s always a bigger fish
down there who can gobble you up if you look a little
too aggressive. Corps will have pre-heat meetings
to decide the scale and range of combat and what’s
at stake. The agreements are reasonably kept to, as
well. Reasonably. Usually, there’s a bit more at stake
than what’s agreed on, and a few extra tricks kept in
reserve.
If this all sounds a bit staged, it’s because it
generally is. Most corporate arguments can be settled
at a negotiation table or over a few emails and don’t
really require fighting to solve, but there are times
when shows of force will help sculpt public opinion
and become more appealing. The civilian population
is rarely directly involved, but the employee population
can be, and the spoils of combat are generally broken
down to their level in one way or another, which makes
for a bonus that didn’t actually need to be paid for.
Using Hotzones
These scenarios make for light to moderate
short-term combat areas that are exciting but tem-
porary plot points for your game. Players can be hired
to fight in them, choose to rescue injured or trapped
non-combatants, or investigate the causes for the
hotzone after the fact. These areas are dangerous, but
they’re deliberately limited in scale, and there’s gener-
ally follow up work: publicity spins to make them look
justified, lots of hero-building and propaganda, things
like that. Any step of the process can be a good hook
for player involvement.
Hotzones are generally fights between rea-
sonably small enterprises rather than the hulking
megacorps, so it’s a good spot to make up your own
entities to fight over whatever it is they want to fight
over. Legal disputes are a good one. The IRPF and
corptowns have some standing rules on things like in-
tellectual property and corporate espionage, but they
can be vague, and ignored if the corp chooses to pay
a fee and “go hot” to deal with a perceived problem
themselves. This buys them a few days to basically
fight it out with their rivals, after which time the IRPF
or other large entities will step in to calm things down
if they need to. They typically don’t. Sustained fight-
ing is very expensive, and unless actual victory can be
secured in short order, that money doesn’t really come
back.
Party Concept: Instigators
Form a party of characters who make
thier livings scouting out businesses that
have something to gain through aggres-
sive takovers of compeditors, but havent
realized it yet. Have the party’s face
convince the company that violence is the
answer, and then set yourselves up as the
most appealing people for the job!
DARKWARS
To most of Sol, hotzones are about as far as
public violence gets these days. It’s a point of pride
over humanity’s reputation that large scale conflict
hasn’t taken hold of the Sol system since it transferred
hands. It’s also not exactly true, and the evidence of
that is apparent from the size of various megacorp
military forces.
Megacorps typically have substantial pro-
tection agencies in place, usually a mix of their own
and IRPF forces. On the street level, this looks like law
enforcement, SWAT, something vaguely akin to the
national guard, and defensive forces in case another
megacorp gets aggressive. But there are large por-
tions of these forces that see more sustained action
out in the black, as pieces of a larger puzzle.
Darkwars are large-scale, unpublicized con-
flicts between megacorps that typically take place in
remote, unpopulated areas, like moons or orbital plat-
forms. Transit routes between planets are pretty close
to a straight lines, and there’s next to no reason to de-
viate from them. But if you do, inside of a few weeks’
travel you can be so far off the beaten path you are
effectively undetectable thanks to the sheer size of the
emptiness above and below orbital pathways. It’s out
here that megacorps wage their real wars when they
have need of them, so as to keep the grim reality of
the situation from public view.
Darkwars typically last months and will involve
large fleets, repair stations built specifically for the
occasion, and large deployments of ground operations
if the location allows for it. Some do. Saturn has sev-
eral moons that have played host to their share
of these operations, as does Neptune, and even
zones around Jupiter, or among rings and asteroids.
The megacorps own essentially all broadcast media,
so it’s possible to have these things happen pretty
much in Sol’s back yard without the public seeing it
head on. Darkwars have taken place on Mars, Ve-
nus, and other high profile areas, and been down-
played so heavily that most people on the planet
just interpreted it as a few hotheaded little corps
throwing rocks at each other for a week.
These wars are essentially hotzones, but
the scale of the combatants requires that they last
ECONOMY
longer, and there’s typically more at stake. They’re
also “load control” for money stockpiles. Sitting on
too much money is inherently detrimental to a lot
of these facilities, which require that currency to
keep moving in order to keep all their lower lev-
els, such as the smaller corps and civilian levels,
functional. Without them, the money doesn’t come
back up again. But with the near infinite capital of
megacorps and the lack of real scarcity, it would
be very easy to never need those smaller opera-
tives for anything anymore, which would eventually
weaken the foundation that keeps the larger corp
upright to begin with. Throwing resources into
darkwars gives megacorps an actually noticeable loss.
Not enough to hurt them typically, but enough that they
need to then look to their infrastructures to build and
innovate and design, and get the cash moving again.
While it has an inherent economic benefit, it’s also still
rich titans throwing lives around because they have the
money to do it, and as such it’s kept quiet so the public
just sees the pros and not the cons. Doing so requires
a surplus of loyal soldiers that will fight in extreme
conditions without talking about it when it’s done, but
thanks to the fact that all of Sol’s billions-strong popu-
lation works for these industries at one level or anoth-
er, assembling those forces is entirely doable.
Story Concept: Found Treasure
Depending on the Darkwar, there may be
important physical goods at stake that
mean little to the casual observer. If your
party stumbles across one, they may find
themselves in the middle of an enormous
struggle they barely understand, making
dangerous deals and evading unique,
secret agents with bizarre tools.
Darkwars are more personal than
hotzones. The people in these fights are
loyal to their corps. They’re trained and
well equipped, and the fights aren’t staged. 19
 When you get to this level of corporate conflict,
you’re expected to bring your best to the ta-
ble. Likewise, evidence of these conflicts cannot be
completely wiped clean. Veterans of darkwars live
among the populace and generally work in protec-
tion areas, but if you take note of all the “hotzone
vets” you meet at any given bar, or all the career
soldiers you encounter in the streets, or how many
people seem to have real combat experience in
space, it doesn’t add up right. Sol is an inherently
more violent place than it believes, but it has gone
through considerable effort to keep that informa-
tion quiet.
ECONOMY
Most of it is hidden in plain sight, attached to
known conflicts that were simply larger than what
they were billed as. Hotzones that open up on
the ground level between megacorps are actually
usually attached to much larger operations out of
sight, and that happened to spill over when certain
key pushes were made. Or sometimes, they hap-
pen to keep the public eye focused more locally, so
other, larger events can occur unnoticed. They get
pretty big too, and can last for months, but they do
tend to move around. While there are occasionally
geographically tied prizes to fight for, in this era
of technology most things of value are fairly mobile,
and will relocate after enough fighting. This also helps
pitch them to the public as more of an aggressive hot-
zone than an extended conflict, because they only end
up seeing bits of it at a time. Regardless of the reason,
on any given year, large-scale combat operations are
raging just outside of view for reasons ranging from
secret-stealing to bruised egos to the welfare of a
few million civilians.
Using Darkwars
From a setting standpoint, darkwars are a
good way to get a long, extended conflict at a higher
military level, while also allowing characters to “leave”
it once in a while and explore other things. They also
make for fun intrigue if you happen to stumble across
one, which isn’t easy, but is possible. Sol hasn’t persist-
ed for seven centuries without some news of activities
like this taking place, but it’s quiet news. The public
doesn’t really see it, and most of them don’t want to.
These fights generally take place between rival corps,
and civilians in corptowns of one organization may not
be in a hurry to rush to the aid of a rival if they feel
like their mother corp is doing its job. No one gets
drafted into this sort of thing (though professionals
can be paid or coerced from time to time) so it gets
pushed into that moral gray area of victimless crimes.
At least, enough that most people don’t go looking for
it.
There are lots of spins you can take on this,
and many of them are more fun if you drum up
the sci-fi a bit. These wars are generally over
technology, ideology, or violations of previous
20 agreements, but they can also be for more
personal, sinister, or petty reasons. In those scenarios,
the boardroom will usually come up with something
more palatable to the soldiers to rally behind while
keeping the true reasons secret, which can lead to
fun intrigue or traitor plots. Debuting new and unique
weaponry is good here, as it’s a good place to test
strange things without the public seeing them, and
setting up elaborate floating platforms and stations
for resupply and ground warfare is also fair game. You
can manufacture fun reasons for that, like new scram-
bler technology that makes ship weaponry less effec-
tive and forces the fight to the floor.
Darkwars are intended to give the Guide
some leeway on putting together a fun, high-danger
large-scale conflict without having to be too tightly
constrained by the setting. The only real “rule” is that
no megacorp really wants to bring these things to the
public level. It would make them very unpopular, cost
significantly more, and risk immediate and significant
escalation that could level large areas of established
population and infrastructure. This would be true of
any war, but at this stage of technological advance-
ment, the rewards wouldn’t really outweigh the losses.
The major exception to this rule is Progenitus and TTI,
who will fight each other publicly without trying to
smooth out the media fallout afterward. They do at-
tempt a degree of discretion about the scale of their
conflicts, but both these entities are so ingrained in
their mindset that they have an exceptionally difficult
time avoiding heavy violence when their mentalities
clash.
Darkwars and hotzones alike are also a good
spot to play around with one area of scientific ad-
vancement that Sol has sorely lacked: therapy. In the
rush of outgoing information from Earth near the end
of its lifespan, psychiatry and therapy took a back seat
to surgery and medication, and that sentiment contin-
ued going forward into Sol’s highly work-driven econo-
my. Depression, anxiety, and stress were already being
treated as problems to be primarily addressed through
medication and before too long new drugs emerged
for dealing with just about everything else that low-
ered productivity. In modern day Sol, the actual science
of emotion has not progressed all that much further
than it had when Earth fell. To the corps, it was much
easier and more cost effective to solve a problem of
mental trauma with a pill than with trying to repair
it through ongoing therapy. It’s currently difficult to
even find that sort of service (though they do exist,
if you look hard enough). This extends to PTSD and
other conditions that emerge from ongoing exposure
to violence and combat. Those people who forego the
pills because they don’t like the side effects run risks
akin to anyone with a debilitating traumatic condition
who is not receiving treatment for it, and can make
for good character situations for heroes and villains
alike. Scientists are aware of the value of therapy and
genuine emotional repair in the modern era, and there
are occasional social pushes to advance that practice,
but money and convenience have effectively won this
war. In Sol’s age of instant gratification and amazing
medical technology, it is difficult to rally many behind
the idea of a system that takes months to years with-
out guaranteed success verses one that takes two pills
and just lets you not think about it anymore, regard-
less of whether or not it’s actually addressing the real
problem.
THE MEGACORPS
going on down there, but each level above them
gets a foggier view as they stare down through
the layers. Near the top, it’s nearly impossible to
really see what’s happening. Not that they need
to. They’ll feel a shake, but all in all, they’re well
supported by all the levels below. This continues
on as you move up the ladder of power. Each level
can clearly see when its own towers fall, and has a
good view of what’s going on below them, but the
events above them are pretty mysterious and the
events far below are pretty vague.
In this analogy, each level of the pyramid actually

MEGACORPS
CEOs has about the same amount of power to dictate
While this book attempts to give you some and guide the corp, but that power is distributed
solid ground to base megacorp behavior on, I have evenly among every pillar on the platform. So down
taken deliberate care to exclude specific CEOs from at the bottom, that power is divided by millions,
the chapters. Silence, the book and each individual has very
of secrets, talks about the little direct sway. Up near
shadow presidents, who have the top, that power may be
longer reigns and tend to be split into 100 or so, giving
more stable influences in Sol, each individual substantial
but company CEOs can come power. However, even at
and go with the wind and the highest levels, you’re not
change at the whim of the dealing with one person so
Guide in order to flavor the much as a small collection
behavior of the megacorp to of a dozen or so, and if one
best suit their plot, and that of them is a bit loopy, they may
was always the intention. have an enormous degree of
I don’t want to prevent power by comparison to your
you from putting your bottom-level employee, but they
NPC in the big chair by don’t overpower the other 9 on
filling it with my own. their own tier.
Megacorp CEOs A top-level fight involves
and high-level executives al- immensely powerful people
low you to flavor the baseline with extremely expensive
behaviors of that organization assets, but its results aren’t
the way you want to. All sorts going to level the company.
of situations can put someone They can hurt it, make life
in this position. They don’t al- miserable for a lot of people,
ways need to be stable peo- but there are powers in place
ple. The corp is stronger than to prevent the company from
the person running it, but that being irreparably harmed. If 1
doesn’t mean they can’t be a person in 10 on the top level has
problem. the powers of a tenth of the
You can think of the millions on the ground level, they
megacorps as a pyramid of can really mess a lot of things
solid foundations with towers up. But the people above the
on top of them, where each ground level can see it happen-
level of foundations supports ing, and counteract it until the
the level above. Each level is people sharing the top level can
a piece of one-way glass. The move to correct the issue.
people above can see down, This is a broad meta-
but the people below can’t see phor, but it’s meant to give you
up. On the bottom level, there a simple-to-imagine structure
are millions of towers holding on which to base plots involving
up the next one. Nothing short corporate takeover. It’s a story-
of deaths on a colossal level telling model more than
will cause organizations this an actual analog for
how the megacorp
large and powerful to fall. The
level above can see what’s is structured. Using 21
 this, you can arrange plots where very powerful
people can do a slew of horrible things that the
party is hired to stop, prevent, or counteract, with-
out having to wonder so much about how the corp
endures it, or how it gets covered up afterward. It’s
rather self-cleaning, which suits the universe well.
Within the structure, it’s difficult to see where dam-
age is coming from or what’s fixing it. These things
are usually being arranged by levels of the structure
above the immediate harm.
Independent agents (like shadow presidents
or, more often, player characters) usually have the
MEGACORPS
ASR/Pulse
ASR and Pulse’s long-standing rivalry stems from
two groups of people who want the same end but
have different means of getting there. Think of it as
rival sports teams, only somewhat more concentrated.
And somewhat more constant. The “sport” is life, with
one team representing advancement of self through
biotech, and the other representing advancement of
self through cybertech. This gives both sides the ad-
vantage of at least being able to see what the other
side is working toward, and believing it to be a worthy
goal. They just don’t like each other’s method of get-

benefit of being able to migrate between these ting there.

levels by virtue of an in-game connection, like a
contact or friend on the inside. This allows plots to
follow a model that allows the players to see what’s
going on on multiple levels at once, and solve what’s
happening below by dealing with what’s causing it
above.

CORPORATE RIVALRY
The severity of megacorp rivalry varies from
corp to corp and level to level. Most people in the
general citizenry of a corptown won’t really interact
much with a real corp-level conflict throughout their
lives. They will be affected by them, though. Hotzones
and other local conflicts are pretty commonplace, and
while they’re not always life-threatening, they certainly
can be. Figuring out how to structure these conflicts
is easier when you know the common motivations of
various corporate rivalries.

ASR/Pulse: Typically non-lethal, competitive,

common, showy conflicts. Common conflicts at the
Conflicts here at the citizen level are gener-
citizen level. Areas with ASR/Pulse interaction will see
ally good old-fashioned fist fights. There’s a degree
brawling or general animosity every few weeks, but
of what could almost be called camaraderie between
deaths are rare and there’s a degree of common re-
these factions, in that they respect each other’s dedi-
spect involved.
cation to their lifestyles, but that won’t stop them from
picking fights with each other and drawing lines in the
Spyglass/IRPF: Typically dangerous, uncommon,
sand. In general, though, the corp culture of both these
professional level conflicts like raids or ship boarding.
groups does not promote lethal conflict against one
Suspicion at the citizen level, but most actual engage-
another. There just isn’t enough at stake. It will happen
ments are between sanctioned organizations in the
on a corporate level for the things that would normally
corp. Areas with Spyglass/IRPF interaction will see
lead to violent conflict (fights over resources, or ter-
heated combat every few months that usually involves
rain, or property, etc.), perhaps with greater regularity
live weaponry in a limited area and some fatalities.
because they already don’t like each other, but on
the person-to-person level, it’s generally brawling and
Progenitus/TTI: Typically lethal engagements
heckling. The things that will most often lead to lethal
on a large scale. Conflict is rare but devastating,
conflict are gang-related. The tendency of Pulse and
and little discretion is shown when a conflict begins.
ASR citizenry to militarize against one another tends
Avoidance is usually practiced at all levels of the corp
to be a great catalyst for gang-related activity, and
structure, but when they end up with conflicting goals
while said gangs probably aren’t exclusively dedicated
in a similar area, both sides will destroy entire ships or
toward fighting the other side, it’s a pretty standard
city blocks.
line-item in most of their charters should the opportu-
nity arise.
Despite the rate of public disturbance relat-

22 ed to this rivalry within these two megacorps, there

are few legal actions taken and public outcry is fairly
minimal. The civil mentality here promotes this level of
competition, and while violence certainly isn’t reward-
ed, it’s not exactly punished either, provided it remains
below a certain level. Murder is murder, and IRPF op-
eratives in these corptowns will treat it as such in most
situations, but if a fight breaks out in the street and all
that happens is a few broken bones and some minor
property damage, the authorities usually wave their
hands and slowly break it up, and it gets downplayed
or laughed off publicly. Both of these corps are in the
business of fixing broken people, so when fights lead
to that situation, they typically look smugly at each
other and invite the other to prove their worth. Fights,
in essence, are things to be won, not avoided.
This same mentality is what keeps these two
corps from engaging in major conflicts against one
another very often. Killing isn’t really a victory for the
scale their rivalry works in. Both Pulse and ASR main-
tain their businesses outside of their rivalry, and said
rivalry is a part of their corporate culture, but not
inherently attached to what it takes to get things
done on the job. Mass killing, large engagements, and
other big battles purely for the sake of pride detract
from their business and cost valuable assets while
not gaining anything they couldn’t gain from smaller
conflicts. It’s “too far.” While ASR and Pulse fleets do
engage with each other from time to time, it is gener-
ally because a real conflict has provoked it. They might
not practice quite as much discretion as they would
with other corps, but they don’t pick unnecessary and
expensive battles with one another. They’ll even collab-
orate from time to time on an official level while leav-
ing the lower tiers of their societies out of the conver-
sation. High ranking officers of both these corps will
often have positive stories to tell about interactions at
the fleet level with their rival corp because they have
more of an opportunity to find the many similarities
between each other. This is the sort of thing that’s kept
to quiet, officer’s quarters conversation though. Saying
it out loud would make a captain unpopular with their
crew.
Opportunities to prove “who is better” are
good plot hooks for getting these two corps to engage
each other. Skirmishes are popular, in which both sides
agree to a certain level of commitment to a fight be-
fore engaging. ASR and Pulse fleet skirmishes make for
big revenue in the entertainment market for both corps
and are one of the few collaborative projects they
share. Both sides fight hard, both sides have beautiful
and flashy spacecraft and methods, and the audience
is generally quite vested in one side or the other. It
also makes good cover for genuine acts of sabotage,
which ups the stakes a bit for both sides. They try not
to abuse the opportunity often because if it got too
out of hand the actual public spectacle would have to
stop, and it’s a considerable revenue source. But they
can usually get away with a little genuine subterfuge
behind the scenes in any joint operation.
Spyglass/IRPF
With the exception of perhaps the
pseudo-rivalry between MarsCo and Lumen, no
corporate rivalry involves forces who are further
apart in overall mentality than these two. What’s
more vexing (or entertaining, depending on who
you ask) is that both sides take a very different
view on the conflict. The IRPF treats its relationship
with Spyglass very seriously. They view the corp as
a menace to public safety, a breach in security, a
disruption to order and a continual thorn in the side
of organized society. They are generally thought
MEGACORPS
of as “enemy,” and they garner suspicion and extra
attention whenever they show up in IRPF monitored
areas. While the IRPF can’t keep Spyglass agents
and employees out of other corptowns they’re work-
ing protection contracts for, they can keep them out
of their own towns, and there are many IRPF space
stations and ground locations that outright won’t
allow pure Spyglass citizens to enter, regardless of
reputation.
Spyglass, on the other hand, views its rivalry
almost like a joke. They consider the IRPF to be one
more corp feeding lies and propaganda to its citizens
instead of letting them see what’s actually going on,
and they go out of their way to aggravate the IRPF
while protecting themselves from violent reactions by
using the security corp’s own rules against them. A
contemporary observer might even call it “trolling.” To
Spyglass, all corps are essentially rivals, they’re just ri-
vals with different flavor and interests. Spyglass’ activ-
ities aren’t particularly centralized around security, so
they’re not in direct competition with the IRPF, nor do
they contract out in the same work sectors, so they’re
not interacting with regularity. But Spyglass methods
do violate many of the laws the IRPF enforces,
and as such, they have made an enemy by
virtue of existing the way they want to exist.
The IRPF/Spyglass rivalry is one of the clear- 23
 est and hardest to hide examples of Sol’s actual
government systems interacting with a “nation”
that works off a different set of rules, and failing
to get along. The only reason this hasn’t become
more obvious to observers is the fact that previous
human examples of similar situations don’t exist for
reference, so they can’t readily tell that this pattern
has occurred before in systems Sol thought they had
long since stopped using.
Maintaining a system of adversarial existence
without breaking into open warfare between these
two corps hinges on both of them being cautious
MEGACORPS
about how far either goes in any one direction. Spy-
glass is very good at this; they’ll engage in illegal
theft, exposure or information gathering to make
sure every capture or arrest is met with some rev-
elation about some hidden secret that the IRPF will
subsequently have to downplay to their constituents.
This results in a lot of public eyes on the captured
people themselves, and makes it difficult to sanction
extreme sentences against them. On the flip side,
this has led to an IRPF general practice of shooting
first and asking questions later if a Spyglass ship is
found where it shouldn’t be, thus limiting the chanc-
es of them obtaining anything they shouldn’t have,
and eliminating the chances of the public demand-
ing they be let off the hook. The IRPF can always apol-
ogize or back-fill the situation after the fact, and does
so regularly. It’s no wonder Spyglass stealth technology
keeps improving.
The unfortunate situation here is that both of
these corps are rather bound by their mission state-
ments, as opposed to some other, more generic corps.
As a contracted protector, the IRPF is tasked by their
clients to keep their property and their secrets safe.
Even if the IRPF isn’t doing anything shadowy or ille-
gal by their own laws, the clients they protect might
be. Undoubtedly are, considering how many of them
exist. And each of those clients are Spyglass targets,
who makes it a point to bring secrets out into the
light in order to profit from the embarrassment while
promoting a more honest system (or better liars, if
only to avoid getting caught). Ergo, the IRPF runs into
Spyglass in an adversarial manner on a constant basis,
and is contractually obligated to engage them. What’s
more, if the IRPF changed their terms, they’d lose their
business. Most people, at one point or another, make
more than a few Faustian deals to get their projects
off the ground. Keeping those skeletons in the closet
is a necessity of modern society, and one the IRPF is
paid to assist with. You can’t really run a business in
Sol unless you have something valuable to exploit, and
typically, that value is in information. Spyglass’ business
model hinges on capitalizing on other people’s secrets,
so inevitably, they clash fangs with the guard dogs. Pun
not intended.
On the civilian level, the rivalry has a different
flavor. Most Spyglass citizens see very little
of their own parent corp, as Spyglass itself
24 tends to be very hands-off in its own cit-
ies. The IRPF holds no contracts in Spyglass territory,
so the only time Spyglass citizens come into contact
with them is when they travel into other corptowns or
use foreign transit of some kind. They view the local
police with mistrust, but not everyone from a Spytown
wears the Prism on their sleeve. They can go unnoticed
if they’re careful. Typically, on their first times out, the
culture shock is so large that it’s very difficult to avoid
standing out, and the IRPF is pretty good at spotting
Spyglass mannerisms. There is a definite bias in place
here, and it tends to make the local citizens worry too.
This is a good situation for the IRPF side, but very unat-
tractive from the view of whatever corp they’re con-
tracting with. As a result, certain practices are in place
to “diffuse” a few of the outstanding hard feelings
between both sides of this situation.
Megacorp rivalry is easy to spot on a
macro scale, but don’t think of it as a
constant, grinding sort of hatred. These
industries are designed to be flexable
enough to allow people from even rival
corps to work and coexist up into they hit
a point of genuine contradiction. Some
rivals can even make for powerful allies if
you can spot the common ground. There’s
always something; if they had nothing in
common, they wouldnt’t be competing
The most public one is the Exculpation Gala,
on the beautiful Exculpation station in Saturn’s orbit.
This neutral platform has hosted this event for decades
(though the event itself goes back further than that),
and gives high-ranking officers in both the IRPF and
Spyglass a chance to mingle with each other, unarmed,
safe, and unmonitored. It’s an opportunity for people
at constant odds to “humanize” each other a little, get
genuine explanations for past events without the cor-
porate rhetoric, and gain a little mutual understanding.
The event lasts 10 days and happens once per Terran
year, and is considered essential by both sides. Not
only does it smooth a lot of brows on the civilian level
to see the IRPF being civil and unbiased toward an
enemy, it also allows perceived slights and misunder-
standings to be explained and put to rest (or legiti-
mized). It’s a very carefully structured, very civil affair
to prevent emotion from boiling up without an outlet, is
invitation only, and once you leave the station, you can’t
return to it. By the last few days of the event, typically
the only ones remaining are the ones who genuinely
want to talk, and a lot of progress gets made toward
healing old wounds that would otherwise never be
mended. Alas, while the gala is nice for the officer lev-
el, it does nothing for the corps themselves. This is not
a peace attempt; it’s simply one of a few brief respites
for soldiers in a long, slow war of ideology and meth-
odology.
Actual conflicts between these forces tend
to only occur when the IRPF is trying to force its way
into a Spyglass controlled area, or when Spyglass is
found someplace the IRPF doesn’t want them to be.
Ergo, most encounters are official in nature and con-
tain armed forces. The fighting is real and lethal, but
restrained. Spyglass combat hinges on striking hard
and getting out once you’ve gotten what you came for.
The IRPF has a standard blanket order forbidding the
total destruction of ships or populations if they can be
rendered non-combatant instead. Between these two
factors, conflicts usually end with damaged ships or
crippled forces, and arrests. Deaths happen, but mas-
sacres are rare. The IRPF has a lot of eyes on it con-
stantly when it comes to its combat habits, and needs
to account for every ship it destroys. Spyglass doesn’t
typically want to destroy IRPF ships completely because
it gives them an excuse to strike back twice as hard
with public support behind them. It’s a careful balance
that helps keep either side from actively hunting the
other.
Unlike ASR and Pulse, however, these corps
rarely play nice, and won’t engage in cooperative
skirmishes with each other. They’re too innately suspi-
cious of one another’s motives. On a small squad level
though, pretty much anyone will work with pretty much
anyone else if the requisite skills are there. They just
tend to keep each other at arm’s length. “Quiet” events
(non-combat, like the Exculpation Gala) have gone a
long way toward allowing official members of these
organizations to work together peacefully for short
periods. Having a chance to get to know each other
in a non-combat environment for once, maybe make a
friend, maybe even a lover (if only for a week), helps
break down the very firmly placed social preconcep-
tions both sides have and leads to cooler heads when
the real conflicts arise. Because they happen often
enough, and they’re not pretty.
Progenitus/TTI
If most of Sol’s megacorps are actually dicta-
torships, Progenitus and TTI are dictatorships with a
heavy side of theocracy, albeit without a single deity
so much as a deified concept. Both these corps believe
so firmly in their individual causes that they can’t flex,
change, or make exceptions to their actions. Progenitus
will breach IRPF quarantines to answer distress signals,
will violate corporate lines to render aid in combat
zones, and will blockade corporate attacks if they feel
inappropriate action is being taken, even if uninvited.
TTI is often far less transparent in its actions, but they
will only move when something within their sphere
of knowledge demands it. A transcendent event, the
exploitation of dangerous bioprobes, the emergence of
transcendent phenomena where none was placed, or
Whisper events, will all prompt TTI fleet movement with
no regards to protocol. They too will violate borders
and interfere where they’re not wanted in order to get
at something they deem dangerous or critical.
They know the consequences of leaving such
things unchecked better than anyone, and it needs
to be addressed faster than bureaucracy can facili-
tate. In effect, both these entities are binary forces.
They will either stand outside a conflict or be right
in the middle of it, with or without sanction, be-
cause their own mission statement takes precedent.
It’s a mentality that has led to a lot of deaths.
MEGACORPS
Progenitus/TTI conflicts are like volcanic erup-
tions. They’re typically few and far between, and
there’s usually a lot of buildup before they happen, but
when it eventually hits, it’s devastating. Both sides will
destroy entire ships, level city blocks in hotzones, and
kill each other rather than collect prisoners or request
surrenders, because centuries of conflict have taught
them that neither is willing to bend and must instead
be broken to be beaten. Both operate on such rigid
rulesets that compromise isn’t possible. When TTI in-
vades another corp’s territory, most megacorps will let
them do their thing and simply demand compensation
later, which TTI is generally plenty willing to provide
as long as they were able to get in when they needed
to. TTI doesn’t linger long in other people’s territory,
so it’s generally not worth engaging their consider-
able biotechnology in combat over what is likely a
minor transgression. Progenitus generally isn’t faulted
for their interference in corp affairs because of the
tremendous amount of public support they have in all
sectors of Sol, and the fact that their company pulls a
pretty hefty amount of civil responsibility (e.g: health-
care) off the shoulders of other industries that would
otherwise have to develop systems for it themselves, so
the corporate elite sighs and rolls over and lets them
provide humanitarian aid because the act of
mercy makes everyone look good. But neither
of these entities is particularly interested
in getting “permission” to do what they do 25
 before doing it, and in situations where both
are trying to act in the same place at once, that
becomes a major issue.
Unbeknownst to most civilian members of either
organization, TTI and Progenitus have the shortest
“negotiation” periods of any corporate rivalry. Upon
seeing that their paths are going to cross in a way
that is incompatible with either of their mentali-
ties, lethal combat is a forgone conclusion. The only
stopping point is when someone back at HQ runs
the numbers and decides that whatever was there
to be gained isn’t worth what is currently being lost,
MEGACORPS
and calls for the withdrawal. Very often, there is
little to no closure or explanation for any of it. For
these corps, that’s a part of life. A fight with Mar-
sCo or Pulse or anyone else would be accompanied
by debriefing, interviews, negotiations, reparations,
prisoner exchange, and everything else you would
expect from such a thing. A conflict with each other
is simply a maelstrom of warfare that begins, rages,
and ends, and those who survive pick up the pieces
and move on.
This relationship has only been able to exist for
as long as it has without enormous public backlash
because it is almost invisible at the civilian level.
Both Progenitus and TTI inundate their employees,
their captains, their leaders, and those in high status
with the knowledge and conviction needed to fulfill
their respective tasks, which also translate into their
26
uncompromising approach to one another. But the
civilian population of both corps is largely oblivious to
it. Progenitus civilians are proud and believe in using
strength to protect those without it. TTI civilians be-
lieve in solving problems through innovation. The two
visions are in no way incompatible, and can even be
very helpful to one another in small groups that aren’t
roped into corporate goals. Most citizens of either side
view individual members of their rival corp as much
friendlier than the corp itself, representing the largest
divide between individual perception and corporate
perception in Sol. It’s also why civilian level conflicts
between the corps are nearly nonexistent. There just
isn’t a reason for them to fight each other. TTI citizens
have no inherent desire to watch people suffer, and
Progenitus citizens have no inherent desire to trample
on other people’s toes. They mostly stay out of each
other’s way.
It’s only when corporate actual gives the orders
to the people wearing the uniforms that the legend-
ary fury of Progenitus Crusaders and TTI Bioships are
witnessed. And you can bet that, from the civilian level,
it looks an awful lot like the other corp “just didn’t
understand” the importance of whatever it was that
provoked it. Because while they may not be invested
enough to fight, the civilian population of both factions
believes in the message of their leaders. Which would
be easier to dismiss, if not for the fact that both of
them are correct in their need to be where they are,
when they are, regardless of opposition, both for the
sake of Vector lives and for the sake of the universe.
It’s entirely possible they could be powerful allies if the
right information was exchanged between their lead-
ers, but the things that would need sharing are too
deep and too sensitive to release, and the long history
of anger is too steep to climb past.
MarsCo/Lumen
To say MarsCo has a rivalry with anyone is to
attach an awful lot of credit to the competitor. Mars-
Co’s wealth and security are so enormous that it’s diffi-
cult to comprehend it in terms of “competition.” To best
imagine it, consider that every living member of sapi-
ent Sol society generates profit for MarsCo throughout
their entire lives, at one level or another. Doesn’t mat-
ter what corptown they live in or whose brand they fly,
some aspect of their existence (their ships, their house,
their clothing, their food, their something) originated
from a MarsCo product at some point in its life. It is
possible to compete with MarsCo by offering products
they don’t offer, like Transcendent technology, but all
the people buying that product will still, on some level,
be paying MarsCo while they use it. You don’t live in a
state of Transcendence; it doesn’t preclude your need
to eat or travel or otherwise exchange with the world.
Essentially, the only way you could ever really make
MarsCo consider you a genuine threat to their oper-
ation is if you not only offered a product essential to
life that they somehow couldn’t offer, but you also took
away their ability to profit from the people who are
buying it. Quite a trick. TTI comes close, but Transcen-
dent technology is a little squickish because of its un-
certain nature and doesn’t preclude people buying the
rest of their products from Mars, so it’s ultimately not
a concern. ASR can market pretty exclusively to Cogs,
which has made them enormous wealth over the cen-
turies, but ASR is a MarsCo-born company with tight
ties to its origins, and there are lots of background
contracts betwixt the two that keep money flowing to
mother Mars as ASR gets paid. Much of what the com-
pany does is automatic, and for a good 50 years now,
MarsCo has been sleeping, with no real need to act on
current events.
Until the Lumen corporation arrived, seemingly
from nowhere, and their technology changed the face
of commerce. The ability to travel faster than light al-
lows them to sell a product that every living thing uses:
time. FTL travel can allow you to arrive at a destination
in minutes that would normally take weeks, while bring-
ing your goods with you and not destroying your body,
something that has made the digital transmission ser-
vices of Sol morally unusable for some. The advantage
of speed is so profound that many people are willing
to purchase contracts while using the service, allow-
ing Lumen to monopolize people’s buying power while
they’re on vacation or business trips so they can only
buy Lumen products. But most importantly, being able
to monopolize time makes them a commodity to abso-
lutely everyone. Corps can rent time with Lumen
engines in order to get their ships where they
need to be faster than anything using their own
propulsion systems. An entire sector of industry is ef-
fectively obsolete in light of this technology, and the
largest manufacturer of said sub-light propulsion
was, you guessed it: MarsCo. From nowhere, a new
entity has arrived that not only offers a product
Mars can’t match, they offer a product that removes
a large area of Mars’ production, and as it gains
more capital, it can offer more products exclusive to
its transit systems, which no one else can compete
MEGACORPS
with. This can allow Lumen to control transportation,
distribution, and to a large degree, manufacturing,
if they get a foothold. It’s the first genuine economic
threat against MarsCo that has existed since its
creation, and it has gotten them noticed.
Lumen itself is caught in the dangerous posi-
tion of having an extremely valuable product with-
out the infrastructure needed to protect it properly,
which makes them very vulnerable if MarsCo ever
managed to position itself for a genuine hostile
takeover. They’re also in violation of centuries-old
accords among megacorps banning the production
of this particular technology specifically because
of its potential to unbalance the carefully main-
tained economy between the titans. The potential to
produce FTL technology in Sol has existed for centuries,
in theory. But MarsCo and the other megacorps long
ago moved that, if that should happen, it would hap-
pen together, because any one power getting it would
put the others at such a profound disadvantage that
violent response would be the only course of action. It’s
been well maintained for some time now, and would
likely continue to be, as the megacorps control and
monitor facilities large and wealthy enough to build
the technology to begin with. Right up until Lumen
popped up from under their noses and surprised them.
Lumen’s greatest downfall at the moment is its
nature, and that will ultimately be what keeps it from
doing what MarsCo and several others fear it’s actual-
ly trying to do. Lumen, at its core, is nothing more than
a Cogsune social experiment, and they care far more
about process and observation than they do about
the actual outcome. Which, frankly, makes them rather
bad managers from a galactic domination perspective.
They pass up obvious avenues for exploitation of their
products in order to watch other details of their oper-
ation that most would consider trivial and unimportant.
They don’t leverage their wealth in traditional fashions,
and they’re very hard to pin down as their FTL systems
let them operate out of distant locations without being
followed. MarsCo would like nothing more than to
squish the errant little bugs, but the box, as they say,
has now been opened. Sol is now aware of the exis-
tence of faster than light propulsion technology, and it
can’t be put away.
27
MarsCo
“Birds are natural fliers,” Mr. Sannon began,
addressing his classroom. “It’s instinctual. They need a
jumpstart, mind you, and they’ll pick things up through a
natural learning process, but the concept of flight, the
ability to adjust pitch and roll, and knowing how hard
to flare before they land, or how wide to spread their
wings to soar, this comes with the territory of being a
bird. When they look upward, they don’t see something
empty that exists separate from them. Unreachable.
They see a road, and they know, innately, that they
possess the tools to travel on that road. It’s a bit like
us, reaching out toward objects to manipulate them.
That’s something our body knows how to do. If we want
to affect our world, we use our hands. The tool fits the
task. Instinct.”
The classroom collectively nodded a bit. Those
who were paying attention, anyway. Which was most,
in this case. Flying was an elective course, and being
here required certain physical attributes. Typically,
students didn’t go to flight class who weren’t person-
ally vested in the idea. Aviale eyes stared eagerly
back at him, young and excited. Feathers were fluffed
with anticipation. The first day was always exciting.
The second day was typically cautious and had half as
many students.
“You are not birds.” He said flatly.
The class full of decidedly bird-like students
looked sidelong at each other, some with bemusement,
others with genuine concern that their professor may
have taken leave of his senses. But a few remained still,
having discerned the meaning of the statement.
“You are Vectors,” He continued, “Which means,
at your core, you are a human dressed up in feathers.
That grants you a great deal of instinctual ability, yes,
but it is human ability, not bird or cat or dog ability.
You didn’t learn to lift things by using your beak or your
claws, you used your hands. You didn’t learn to hop
and fly when you were little, you learned to crawl and
walk.” He skipped over an amendment about infancy
bypass education, at least, for the moment. “And I’m
going to assume the majority of you don’t have baby
pictures of mommy throwing up in your mouths.” He
smiled a bit at the chorus of gagging and chuckled.
“We miss a lot of these obvious cues, thanks to
infancy-bypass tanks,” he explained, unable to avoid it
further. “I’m betting most of you were on solid food and
putting it into your own mouths by the time you actu-
ally encountered any. But those of you who did nurse
as children instinctively looked for a mammalian chest
instead of chewed up bird vomit, which, I assure you, is
an entirely un-birdlike thing to do. In short, if you were
hoping to leap off a cliff at the end of today’s lesson
and take wing under nature’s gentle guidance, I have
news for you. At the moment, you have more in common
with a rock than a bird, except that you’ll be scream-
ing more on the way down.”
There were chuckles among the students, but
they were tempered by the gradual realization that
today would be less glamorous than they’d hoped.
Sannon took a moment to gauge the reactions. It was
easy to pick out the ones who’d never tried to fly, they
were generally attentive and agreeable, eager despite
the warnings. Unsure yet how cautious they should or
shouldn’t be. There was always a group of students
who’d had successful glides from playground equip-
ment or rooftops. They tended to lean back in their
chairs like they owned the place, confident in their
ability and dismissive of the implied danger. He hated
that. Parents love to give their children a taste of flight
before these courses to “warm them up,” but all it did
was fill them with false security. He’d rather have a
blank slate to work with.
Once in a while, there would be one or two in
the back with genuine flight experience. Laterals, usu-
ally. Illegal at their age, even with their physical con-
dition, but life happens regardless of the convenience
of law. They were quiet and distant as they watched,
un-involved in the conversations of the other groups.
There was none of the posturing here. Despite having
the most experience, they were generally the most at-
tentive. Life had not given them the courtesy of doing
without their wings, and they had already experienced
the fear of that reality. Whatever had driven them to
the sky at such a young age, be it anatomy or pressure
from some other source, it likely hadn’t left. Half of
these students would never try flying again once they
came to realize the physical demands, but these were
here to get better at something they couldn’t do with-
out.
“We are not well designed for flying,” he
continued, speaking over the chatter. “Sorry. It’s a
fact. That we can do it at all is pretty impressive, our
anatomy isn’t grand for that sort of thing.” he waved a
wing limply, which was a little undermined due to the
obvious strength in his arms.
“We’re poorly balanced, too heavy, too bulky,
and generally not strong enough to do what would
be traditionally referred to as regular flying. But with
training and discipline, you can get to a point where
flying is...” he pondered the word to use. “Reachable. If
only for short periods.
You need to ponder what you’re trying to do, here.
Flying upward to a building top from the ground is the
functional equivalent of leaping up a ladder with two
hands and no legs, an entire rung at a time instead
of alternating, without stopping to rest.” The room
dropped its volume level noticeably. Most of them had
not considered what the actual physical requirements
of a sustained climb were.
“And that’s just getting aloft,” he continued,
“then you need to stay there, suspended from that
ladder, repeatedly doing chin-ups from the highest
rung, until you can find a place to safely drop from
rung to rung to the floor, fighting your own weight and
momentum, or you fall and die.” The room had silenced
now. The inexperienced group was looking nervously
back and forth at each other, with lingering glances at
arms that had probably barely passed the physical ed-
ucation requirements for their grades. The gliders were
slowly realizing that what they’d done before and
what they were now facing were substantially differ-
ent. And there in the back, his veteran. Her breathing
had not changed. Her posture had not fallen.
“How...” one of the students asked, “how do you
practice something like that?”
Sannon smiled and looked toward the back.
“It’s Elysium, isn’t it?” he called back to the lat-
eral. She looked surprised to be addressed directly, but
nodded. “How do you suggest they practice something
like that, Elysium? Is there a lighter way? Am I off my
mark, here?”
The young kite looked about the room, as if
seeking social permission to respond. It was always
difficult being singled out. He knew that, and would
catch up and apologize later. But they needed to hear
it from one of their own. And as he’d expected, her
gaze shifted ever so slightly, as he had seen happen in
nearly every veteran that had ever graced his class-
room on the first day. That realization that these kids
were utterly unprepared for what they were facing.
The knowledge that if they looked for a shortcut, they
would end up broken and battered on the pavement.
The need to convey the degree of effort they were
facing now.
“Get a ladder.” She responded, and Sannon’s
smile widened. He tapped his toggle case, and the
closet behind him opened, revealing a rack adorned
with rows of long, extending ladders, fully equipped
with the grim realization by the classroom that they
would, in fact, be doing exactly that. He looked back
up at the sea of disbelieving stares, and pulled the
first ladder off the rack.
“Shall we get started?”
LIFE WITHIN a general defense contractor (which was handy
in that it gave blame another place to rest when
public relations became violent from time to
MarsCo is every future-megacorp-high-density
time). MarsCo’s personal defense agency is substan-
city you’ve ever seen a grizzled protagonist in, trodding
tial, and more generally militant than the IRPF. It’s
down a busy street in the rain with a cigarette and
general function these days is asset defense against
nothing left to lose. It’s beautiful in its scale and scope,
other militant corps, and a great deal of shadow
but it’s dirty, lived in, and full of corners and alleys
operation the company doesn’t necessarily want to
where bad people do bad things. It also has opulent
contract out to the IRPF.
high-rises, staggering villas, and buildings with age
On the street level, MarsCo IRPF opera-
and history. With 700 years of history behind it, Mars-
tives come in all shapes and sizes, and, like MarsCo
Co is almost three times the current age of the United
towns themselves, make for good “anything” char-

CORPORATE RULE
States, and has the most iconic and historically import-
acters. You can find crooked MIRP’s, and you can
ant locations in Sol to its name.
find stalwart ones. You can find ones that flirt with
MarsCo is a good place to centralize your ad-
illegality to keep things from spiraling out of con-
venture if you want to make something with a non-spe-
trol, and ones that hold to every letter of the law
cific focus. There are so many MarsCo cities that you
with vice-like dedication. The population is just so
can easily make one up to serve whatever narrative
big that any particular plot device a Guide wish-
purpose you need it to, and fall back on familiar
es to construct will fit snugly into some corner of a
themes and visual motifs to help describe it without
MarsCo town. It’s just a matter of what you want.
worrying about violating a particular corporate ide-
As a general rule, however: MIRP’s who work
al within HSD’s lore. MarsCo themes are simple: sell
independently of the MarsCo Military Defense
everything to everyone. They’ve grown to a level where
Force are easier to manipulate than those that
they don’t really move on that directly anymore, and
serve as detachments or partners with MarsCo’s
mostly oversee income from a myriad of sub-corps and
own. The MCMD is known for being loyal to its corp,
smaller (but still enormous) affiliates. This allows the
as most actual corp guard detachments are. This
Guide to make whatever entity they want to as their
one just happens to be so large that it’s particularly
narrative contributor to MarsCo plots, with any partic-
noteworthy, and has an impact on the IRPF con-
ular level of associated “good” or “evil.”
tingent contracted to MarsCo. Additionally, there
MarsCo corptowns represent the closest to
are a surprisingly high number of veterans among
“human” society widely visible in post-human Sol. If that
MarsCo defense and IRPF contingents in MarsCo
sounds like a vast generalization to you, you’re right.
towns. MCMD soldiers live in the places they defend,
Humans had many cultures, many societies, and many
and tend to stay in service for life. Since MarsCo is
ideals, and summing them up as a single collective
so large and spans such a wide area, everyone sees
whole would be largely dismissive of the differences
action early in their careers, and tend to maintain that
and unique qualities that made each one important.
pace for the entire duration. IRPF agents for MarsCo,
That’s essentially what’s happened here, and heavily
while not on the front lines of large scale conflicts
contributes to the Vector view of humanity as a single
as often, have such a large population to juggle that
uniform self-destructive entity. From a Vector point of
they experience similar levels of engagement in short
view, MarsCo at least represents the best of what
periods. It affects everyone differently, but they are all,
they had to offer. It’s what was left after “the enemy”
nonetheless, affected.
part of humanity was destroyed. That gives it a gener-
ally positive view in the public eye, and indeed, Mars-
Co is a reasonably charitable enterprise from the out-
side observer. But MarsCo does more than simply sell
things to people. Its size and influence dictate, if not Character Concepts: Competitors
define, what truth is. In order to keep their skeletons in Working with IRPF and MarsCo officers in
their closet, MarsCo has manipulated history, society, the same party can lead to a variety of
fact, and fiction, to create a lifestyle that would shock fun interactions depending on the context.
humanity, but whose current occupants interpret as Both have a respect for authority and a
normal. dedication to duty, but they’re going to
feel differently about orders given from
MarsCo IRPF other military heirarchies. Sometimes,
MarsCo policies its population with a mix of its an IRPF officer’s biggest pain is a loyal
own forces and the IRPF. Like many older organizations, soldier from another organization, rather
the IRPF itself was originally a MarsCo security orga- than a criminal.
nization, so they share a lot of common values. Since
their inception, MarsCo has maintained a split force in
order to keep with tradition and their own investments
in the security sector, while still promoting the IRPF as 31
 RUMOR AND
CONJECTURE
Sentry: The MarsCo sphinx actually has a
name; Sentry, supposedly based off MarsCo’s role
as a silent guardian of Sol since the end of Earth.
But there has been a long rumored double-mean-
ing behind it. Historical documents make occasional
references to the “central trinity system,” an estab-
lishment supposedly developed to look after the
CORPORATE RULE
development of important parts of Vector culture to
ensure they hit certain landmarks during the early
stages of their development. Central Trinity dealt
with a combination of technological affairs, social
affairs, and economic affairs, with each one tied to
each other so that one would not advance or lag
behind the next. Technology would advance at a
rate comparable to the society using it, the econo-
my would advance at a rate equivalent to the social
demands for technology, and society would maintain
a balanced position guided by the other two. It’s
unknown what form this really took place as, or how
many people were involved, but if it actually existed
it would be quite the establishment. The general
consensus is that it didn’t, or if it did, it no longer
does.
However, rumor mongers and conspiracy theo-
rists fondly point to a few key references to a physi-
cal, singular entity, likely a computer program or AI of
some sort, designed to help the then-heads of MarsCo
decide how to proceed with Mars’ development. These
references come from the same general era as the
central trinity references, and while there is a note of
the entity existing, there’s no real indication that it was
ever turned off. It just stops showing up about 50 years
into Mars’s post-Earth history. The thought is that this
Central trinity system eventually became the Sen Tri,
now known as MarsCo’s logo and figurehead, but se-
cretly, a program that has been running for the better
part of 1000 years.
MarsCo publicly denies this, but the theory
has maintained strength over the years because the
company has never put forth a satisfactory diagram
of how it keeps all its assets straight, or how its vari-
ous leaders coordinate across its vast territory. For a
company with no single CEO, MarsCo is remarkably
coherent, and has the feel of a singular body despite
divisions within. It’s maintained that feel for centuries,
and to some, this is a valid explanation for it.
Human Leadership: One of the most
popular conspiracy theories involving MarsCo is that
they have humans locked up in a high tower some-
where running the place. Most of these theories stem
back to the early post-Earth days, when human-
ity slowly dies out on Mars for a variety of
32
peculiar reasons. It’s one of the more vague
aspects of the end of that particular race,
and many feel that at least a few would have holed
up somewhere and basically disappeared, rather than
died. While often cited in urban myth, it’s one of the
least believed rumors, mostly because no one’s seen
one in all this time. They’d have to be awfully commit-
ted to the lie to remain tucked away and hidden for
some six centuries.
While there are no humans from the era of hu-
manity currently kicking around in MarsCo boardrooms,
there have been humans built from the ground up, like
vectors, in MarsCo labs before. Some even led full lives
in secret, confined to a few rooms in a building in some
martian city, to gaze out the window and ponder what
became of their race. It’s only been done a handful of
times, mostly because there’s very little reason to do it.
There’s nothing in the human genome a Vector scientist
needs that they can’t get digitally, and having to look
after a lifeform for its entire lifespan is an awfully big
commitment for no return beyond perhaps a need for
forgiveness through some perceived moral connection
to a conflict long past. Nevertheless, every 50 years or
so, one is cloned up from stock, force-grown through to
adulthood, and monitored to make sure that the base
genetic code on file hasn’t been changed, corrupted,
or otherwise damaged in any way, lest it effect future
projects involving the same templates. It’s not a par-
ticularly enriching existence; they’re not allowed out,
not told to particularly much about the fate of their
species, and more or less live in an isolated floor of a
MarsCo research building until they either die of old
age or are killed, which is largely up to the whims of
whoever is in charge at the time.
The most overtly troubling part of this particu-
lar process is that it isn’t really all that secret. It’s not
advertised of course, and the general public doesn’t
know about it, but there are about a dozen or more
people involved every time a human is cloned up, and
over the course of the human’s lifetime, they’ll prob-
ably meet some 30 people in and out of their little
environment. For the Vectors, it’s an interesting brush
with an ancient past. But ultimately, the subject is just
a copy to inspect genetic integrity, not a kidnapped
human from the days of old. They know nothing they’re
not taught to know, and will ultimately die more Vector
in mindset than human. For the people who engage in
this part of MarsCo’s research, actually meeting a real
genetic human only further proves that the race itself,
its culture and its history, is dead.
Bad Seeds: There has been a long-stand-
ing theory that MarsCo produces many of its own
problems specifically to make itself look better by solv-
ing them, or to have convenient excuses for question-
able activities by making illegal organizations do them.
While not expressly true, MarsCo is rather...indiscrimi-
nate...about who it decides to fund.
When you own just about every side of a sce-
nario, you can make money in one way or another re-
gardless of if it succeeds or fails. The only real goal is
to make sure money keeps changing hands, so the corp
can get its cut again and again. MarsCo’s philanthropy
department is given a great deal of leniency in deter-
mining who gets what kinds of funding, and because
there are so many people over such a wide area, it’s
sometimes as simple as listening to someone’s pitch
and writing a check. Funding can go to garage oper-
ations that will be using MarsCo platforms when they
get large enough to distribute, or funding might go to
a lab using somewhat undisclosed and morally ambig-
uous testing procedures in the hopes of achieving a
profitable breakthrough. And if it turns out they aren’t
doing well enough, MarsCo can send their internal
security to mop them up and take possession of their
research. And if they are, they can take their cut of the
resulting product and mop up any potential implication
of their financial assistance. It’s a lot of what people
suspect them of doing already, only on a larger and
less personal scale. MarsCo benefits from people as-
suming that one evil genius with a crooked smile and a
devious laugh is running its show, because when people
go looking for that cliché villain, they never find him. Its
Story Concept: Bad Good Guys
The IRPF somtimes works with criminal el-
ements to help keep criminal activity at a
manageable level. If MarsCo were to start
paying one criminal organization that was
also researching on the side, that entity
would be able to undo what the IRPF was
doing. This would put the IRPF in a situation
where their work was destabilized and the
criminals they assured a specific spot for
would no longer have it. It’s a right jolly mess
to drop a player group into.
actual villainy looks a lot like its charity, and the higher
you go in the company, the less they actually personally
know about it. Past a certain point, it’s all just
numbers. Money in, money out, and time spent. It’s
really the people closer to the bottom that take
sides and bribes in the MarsCo structure.
Rent Control: Vector-kind has a fair-
ly stable family diversity and population number,
which has fluctuated a little since the first century
but generally makes its way back to a population
that has a canine majority, followed by felines, and
trickles down from there. This looks like a result of
CORPORATE RULE
the original population spread from the initial three
artificial population enhancement phases, but it has
been pointed out a few times in centuries since that
once the hybrid adaptation protocol from phase
three had spread to entirety of the population, all
of Vector-kind was essentially a single species, and
the spread of appearances should have evened out
a bit more than it has. This is a difficult metric to
measure, as you can’t easily account for personal
tastes, social practices, or the probability of two
different species falling in love, but there are those
who have suggested that MarsCo, with its over-
whelming influence in social situations, has delib-
erately arranged to keep the numbers where they
are, if for no other reason than to keep Sol easy to
predict.
33
Skybridges
Popular in Mars
architecture due to the
low gravity, MarsCo has
adopted these structures
as a staple in their design.
They’re generally rented
out as luxury “top-floors” to
various industries, and will
contain housing and facili-
ties for visitors of renown.

Sub-Urban
MarsCo builds down as
well as up. The extensive tunnels
under the martian surface lent
well to subterranean construc-
tion, and MarsCo made such ex-
tensive use of them for its infra-
structure that it continues to dig
under cities in other locations
the situate large chunks of its
infrastructure underground. Many
affordable private residences
are also under here, foregoing
the view for the advantages of
solitude. It’s unpleasant off Mars,
but Mars itself has such large
tunnels that they gain a certain
ambiance all their own. Most
MarsCo towns are littered with
entrances to underground levels.
Megastructures
These tightly packed super-
buildings take up several city blocks
and are communities unto themselves.
Travel to adjacent structures is sim-
ple, but fairly uncommon. There isn’t
often a need to do so. All your needs
can be provided for within your own
structure, from shopping to entertain-
ment to (in most cases) work. Com-
muting is between floors rather than
roads. Large areas of the structure
are open to the outside during pleas-
ant days to cycle air and provide a
more luxurious feel. These buildings
are convenient and cost effective, but
serve the social function of making
people comfortable with living their
lives in controlled environments, which
in turn makes them easier to control.
Megastructures are generally corp-
owned, and the things you see within
them will echo the ideals of that
corp. MarsCo towns have many of
these, but not all of them are owned
expressly by MarsCo.
Rails
MarsCo towns like to empha-
size getting people where they’re
“supposed” to be quick. They tend
to feature elaborate mass-transit
systems like shuttles and rails, many
of which are cheap to use or reim-
bursed by purchases made at one
destination or another. It’s easy to
live in a MarsCo town without a
vehicle, even if you don’t live in a me-
gastructure. Most transit lines even-
tually link up with continental transit,
which will shuttle you via supersonic
maglev to other cities or even other
parts of the planet. This can actually
allow you to walk down the street,
board a transit line, and arrive at
work an hour later on a different
continent. MarsCo’s way of baiting
civilians to live within their walls
regardless of where they decide to
work.
Human Architecture
MarsCo towns tend to have
“human” aesthetics, with traditional
skyscrapers, a somewhat industri-
al design, four-sided symmetrical
buildings and grid-like layouts. What
they interpret as “human” is actually
just what came over with the humans
who arrived on Mars, but does tend
to be naturally efficient. “Old-fash-
ioned” is another appropriate word,
as most of the building aesthetics
and road layout reflect a time where
design had to fit old building tech-
nology, Earth gravity, and terrestrial
vehicles. Modern day materials and
technology can support much more
eccentric architecture, but MarsCo
tends to stick to its roots.
Compartmentalized
Design
MarsCo builds its city zones
like isolated communities, with differ-
ent areas being dedicated to dif-
ferent specific tasks, such as eating
or shopping. This is inherently conve-
nient, but it also allows MarsCo to
dictate the flow of their population’s
day. During X time, they know the
majority of the population will be in
Y location, which then allows them
to target Y location with relevant
events, fees, or monitoring. While true
of all megacorps, MarsCo is particu-
larly good at controlling lives without
the people living them really feeling
like they’re being controlled.
Three-Dimensional Living
MarsCo is among the more
readily accepting of various body
morphisms among the megacorps.
Not that any megacorp outright
ignores the morphism requirements
of its citizens, but MarsCo caters to
such a large population that building
specifically for minority needs actu-
ally produces a comparable profit to
building for majority needs in smaller
areas, so they pursue those prod-
uct lines with more zeal. In MarsCo
towns, you will find buildings struc-
tured specifically for lateral, tauric,
and micro residents, with crossover
zones that have seating and traversal
options for each (such as small lifted
bridges and wider seats). The mod-
el is not universally adopted. While
those that live in MarsCo towns do
appreciate having living areas that
cater to their kind, it can breed an
isolationist mentality that makes
people of different morphisms treat
“home” as “among my kind,” a some-
what dangerous mindset among such
a diverse population.
Additionally, it runs risks
based on differing population counts.
In a uniform city, a city block con-
tains more or less the same number
of people as the block next to it. In
a body-conscious city, a micro or
lateral based square block could
contain as many as 5 times as many
people as a standard biped block, or
twice that next to a tauric block. This
presents a significant vulnerability
to certain areas when hotzones or
disasters are considered.
Function over Form
MarsCo’s style is substance,
and its buildings are modular and
re-configurable based on the needs
of the day. Most MarsCo buildings
can be partially disassembled and
retrofitted to perform different
functions, which can allow things like
large spacecraft to land in areas
they normally wouldn’t be able to.
This technology is also a means to
keep people from moving away. By
reconfiguring their own residence,
MarsCo towns can allow people to
upgrade to larger and better homes
without actually having to move.
 AGENTS
MarsCo Military Defense Force
(MCMD)
While MarsCo uses the IRPF as a primary civil
defense force, the corp is so large that the amount
of overlap between what effects it directly vs what
the IRPF can handle is too large to easily parse out.
MarsCo is directly attacked in one form or another
on a daily basis, and the IRPF would have to have
CORPORATE RULE
a full range of teams from small officer groups to
naval assistance hovering around every city in Sol
specifically to protect MarsCo assets. It just doesn’t
work out.
The MarsCo Military Defense Force actually
predates the IRPF, and stems from the early days
of Mars’ colonization where it was built to defend
the colony in case survivors from Earth came up
to cause trouble. Many of its members would form
the IRPF generations later, and the MCMD would
gradually re-adapt itself to be a specifically more
specialized force for the defense of MarsCo assets,
leaving the smaller jobs of civilian law enforcement
to the IRPF, who people have come accustomed to
associating with ground level policing.
All megacorps have fleets of their own, and
typically have specialized combat units for jobs re-
lated to their specific interests, but those fleets are
used primarily in active roles: seeking things the corp
wants and utilizing their unique training and design to
accomplish the associated tasks. The MCMD fleet and
its soldiers are primarily defensive in nature, filling the
role the IRPF usually fills for other corps. This also keeps
the cost of MarsCo’s contract with the IRPF down a
little. The sheer number of conflicts associated with
MarsCo property on the military level would put so
many officers at risk on a daily basis that the markup
is staggering even by MarsCo standards. It’s cheaper
to handle the bigger stuff themselves.
Secrets and Stability Division
Associated with MarsCo’s inner workings, the
SSD is a shadowy organization tasked with making
sure certain secrets stay secret over MarsCo’s enor-
mous network of information and communication. They
protect things that are meant to stay quiet so as to
avoid destabilizing Sol’s careful social and economic
balance. They work primarily within MarsCo terri-
tory itself (most corps have some version of the SSD
watching their own secrets) and keep tabs on potential
security leaks that result from people with privileged
information assuming they’re too far away or unim-
portant to be noticed. The SSD isn’t a publicly adver-
tised office, and their work, by definition, lies outside
of the IRPF’s jurisdiction. They will use fear and
coercion to enforce obedience if they suspect
a security leak forming, and in most cases,
36 that’s enough. Sometimes, however, a subject
has already gone too far, and need’s to be collected.
People picked up by the SSD can go missing for years,
if not forever.
Media Division
For all its technology and weaponry, and all
the ships in its navy, MarsCo’s most powerful tool is
its media empire. All news emanates from MarsCo.
They control “truth,” they control “history,” they control
“education,” and as such, they control the perceptions
of Sol. Other corps do have media divisions of their
own, but so many of them depend on MarsCo support
that they can hardly call themselves unbiased. For local
reporting perhaps, but the greater solar system runs on
MarsCo equipment and in MarsCo towns. That’s where
the news is, and when news happens elsewhere, they
tend to get to it first anyway.
The media division is enormous, and has its own
echelon of power and associated access to secrets.
Primarily, stories are spun to keep large issues small
and downplay any lasting ramifications they may have
on the corp as a whole. Labels are assigned to events
to evoke the proper responses (things like “tragedy”
vs “accident,” etc.) and priority is given to stories that
are easier to manipulate. It’s the same tricks that
have been used to great effect by human society, and
despite most people being aware of it on some level,
it’s difficult to really judge how much is being skewed
when you have nothing to compare it to.
Asset Recycling
Keeping Sol’s economy running is a careful
balance between obvious advancements in recycling
and an implied loss of resources, so that the illusion
of a world in which one thing cannot be easily turned
into another is maintained. The asset recycling depart-
ment helps monitor the latter, and they also control the
unique infrastructure in place for recycling less common
material outside of public view.
A key part of keeping the system running is
providing pools of consumable resources that are not
directly tied to whatever it is that fed them. Which
is to say: if you have a bag of trash, you cannot feed
said bag of trash directly to your home printer and
have it make you a new product out of the scraps.
Instead, there is a collection service in place to take
said bag of trash back to a processing center, which
will then perform some form of (supposedly expensive)
refinement to it, involving a great many employees, and
produce a nutrient bolus, which is then pieced up and
delivered to a distribution company that then sends
it off to the home printers of various household sub-
scribers, in the amounts they subscribe to, containing
the necessary proteins and starches to produce foods
within specific categories they subscribe to. What you
buy doesn’t equate to what you’ve returned, and what
you can make with your home system is determined by
whatever capabilities that system has, and whatever
food level you’ve subscribed to.
 THE MARSCO GUIDE TO CORPORATE VIOLENCE
1: Stand united.
Do not engage in violent disputes within your own
organization. Handle internal matters quietly and dis-
creetly. It will lend greater weight to your actions when
you have to move collectively against another busi-
ness. Internal problems do happen, so don’t let them
discourage you. There are many private organizations
available that can assist you with the pacification and
re-education of a problematic subsidy. We recom-
mend Sabre (a MarsCo company) for the location and
procurement of one of these organizations that will
best fit your needs and practices. You can also great-
ly reduce the chances of failed partnerships by only
hiring individuals who have completed MarsCo’s Good
Partner program.
2: Violence is not a constant source of
income.
Be selective in your commitments to violence. Public
opinion swings very heavily when fighting is involved,
and your decisions will influence the way your own
employees look at you, the way your competitors look
at you, and the way your partners look at you. Do not
fight for profit, publicly. Arrange situations where your
hot periods look like necessary evils, brought on by
dangerous or provocative actions by your target com-
petitor. Leaking secrets so you can use theft as an ex-
cuse for invasion is a risky practice that might backfire
on you, and MarsCo recommends using Tightrope (a
MarsCo system) on all your machines to ensure you’re
not over-reaching. Victory fires the blood and embold-
ens a population, but bodies are never good publicity.
Be efficient, be fair, and be dispassionate. There is
always a bigger fish out there who might choose to
get involved if they feel you’re going too far.
3: Smaller is better.
Do not commit your entire identity to a violent action.
Operate through smaller corps and only hit where
it’s going to count most. Involve civilian populations as
little as possible; it is almost never positively received.
Scouting services like Sabre (a MarsCo company) can
procure small teams for you to take on specific infiltra-
tion or liberation tasks for the procurement of material
or research. If used alone, these are often taken to
be provocative acts, but if you employ them alongside
larger attacks that were justified from previous slights,
you can maximize your return without a significant per-
sonnel investment. Always aim to accomplish as much
as you can at one time. Public opinion will not put up
with prolonged threats, and someone else will move in
on you while your image is weak. Hotzones should only
last for a few days.
4: Allies make good enemies.
If you are near conclusion with partnership talks with
another organization, staging a fight is a great way to
build comradery while minimizing actual damage. Work
together. Decide which buildings in both organizations
are no longer necessary or useful. Load them with out
of date equipment or other undesirable material. Ar-
range a PR campaign for the creation of a legitimate
conflict which will resolve with a new, collective entity,
better and stronger than the two were apart.
MarsCo recommends Lynx (a MarsCo company) for
your PR needs. It is essential that any arranged conflict
be executed successfully, with no mistakes, as the pub-
lic will begrudge it tremendously if the actual origin of
the operation becomes known.
5: Know your place.
Do not over-militarize. As your credits increase and
your profits soar, there can be great temptation to
start purchasing arms and armor in bulk in order to
build yourself into a more physical power. Resist it.
Your physical footprint in the universe helps determine
your public appearance and reputation. If you build
too quickly and too aggressively, it will cost you in the
eyes of the masses. This invites larger organizations to
move in and take over, as they know the action will be
better supported. Avoid the eyes of larger predators
by staying below their attention until it can no longer
be avoided. No shield can protect you better than that
of public support, but it can be destroyed with a single
bad move.
6: Heed your contract.
If your business or operations exist sunward of Jupiter,
chances are high that you fall under the IRPF protec-
tion contracts of a larger corptown, or perhaps have
a contract of your own with them. Your rights and
abilities under IRPF law are clearly stipulated in your
contract with them, so be sure to read it thoroughly
before moving into any sort of armed conflict.
 If you want something fancy one night, you go
out, or order a special one-time delivery of
heartier stock. Because all those steps are nec-
essary, according to the ARD.
They’re not, really. But it does keep a lot of
people employed, and it keeps money moving, and
it makes sure a lot of different organizations can
profit off every mandatory aspect of your life, so
the ARD makes sure that’s how the system continues
to function. Monetizing aspects of daily life helps to
provide stability to the economy, which is more
CORPORATE RULE

or less what MarsCo is all about. Because

even after all this time they’ve yet to think
up an effective way to provide everyone
with the ability to make whatever they want,
whenever they want, without established
society falling apart. Which it very well may
need to do, but they don’t particularly relish
the idea of letting it. The ARD is essen-
tially about creating a situation in which a
system of resource expense and distribution
is a necessary part of life, despite the fact
that technology has long since removed
the need to run off that model.

Moral Imperatives Department

“Rights” are a tricky issue in Sol. Typically,
megacorps don’t like to be bound by too many
rules. It prevents them from moving into areas
where they can better exploit a situation. But
post-human Sol was founded on a platform of
benevolence, and it was agreed pretty early
on that any degree of coordinated social
development was going to need some
form of communal agreement on who was
entitled to what. A right to live, for in-
stance, or to be allowed to better one’s
social position. Important though it
was, at the time, the war with Earth’s
unified government was very fresh
in everyone’s mind, and there was a
social imperative to not mimic their
models on Mars. So a temporary
fix was established to give people
peace of mind, while greater co-

Character Snapshot: Jessel’n Bes

Homeworld: Mars
Age: 36
Occupation: MCMD Airless Environment
Recon
Ten years ago, Bes stood by as her CO
ordered a small space station’s civilian
population to death, rather than risk them
having possibly seen compromising infor-
mation on a secret project. She regrets
the descision, but duty has commited her
38 to the lie.
nundrums of unalienable rights and entitlements were many other entities in Sol that likely deserve
tabled for discussion after Mars had better solidified such protections and are not included in them.
its position. Bio-constructs, advanced AI, and most recently,
Some 700 years later, most of it still hasn’t been Transcendent entities that may or may not constitute
settled on. alien intelligence are all examples of issues MarsCo
The temporary fix was the Moral imperative has been unwilling to commit to defending.
department, which was a little division out of the early
stages of the MarsCo Military defense force (before
it even held that name) consisting primarily of soldiers
who had either left Earth when they felt their orders
were immoral or had acted in previous support of the
Vector project in its infancy. Using primarily military

CORPORATE RULE
guidelines on war crimes and behavioral standards,
they etched out a fairly bare-bones outline of things
people could rely on in terms of communal treatment.
Mostly things like a right to life, and the ability to
defend one’s life against aggressors. A right to the
obtainment of goods required to maintain life regard-
less of social standing (this actually paved the way
for the eventual creation of free nutrition blocks,
and was demanded early in Mars’ infancy by those
rightfully worried about corporate greed leaving
people without food) was also included. Missing were
a great deal of personal rights regarding privacy,
public trial, and specific actions of law enforce-
ment. Versions of these did pop up later (and
were ultimately cemented in the IRPF’s own legal
enforcement statutes, which is one of the reasons
they’re so widely used) but at the time there was
rampant worry of spies among the new colony and just
about anything was “just cause” enough for a search if
it meant keeping the fresh colony from exploding.
The moral imperatives department eventually
evolved over time into what amounts to MarsCo’s
universal declaration of rights, and the associated
body charged with enforcing it. As declarations go,
even in Sol’s modern era, it’s sorely lacking. While it
includes a universal ban on slavery and a right to a
pursuit of leisure that keeps the corp from running
people all day every day, it’s still very broad about
privacy, adherence to laws, and perhaps most im-
portantly: equal representation. Vectors and Cogs
are considered equal in the Moral Imperatives de-
partment. Blips that were legally created likewise
share the definition of Vector. But there are many,

Character Snapshot: Rang Li

Homeworld: Mars
Age: 28
Occupation: Asset Recycleing
Primarily on the physical side of his oper-
ation, Rang’s seen it all. And melted most
of it down. His access to rare materials
and powerful print systems have put him
in contact with wealthy and dangerous
people, and he worries what his new
“friends” may want him to do.
39
ASR
“We should get home...”
“And miss out on this buff?” Cia asked incred-
ulously. Rane tucked his tail between his legs a bit,
which made the armor on his avatar clang in Cia’s
overlay. She hated that he kept the body-shadowing
animations on but didn’t play the character. Nothing
took you out of the mood faster than a giant armored
hulk of a hero mimicking your best friend’s meek body
language. She turned and frowned at him, crossing her
arms. He sighed for a moment, realizing his mistake,
and the character in her visual overlay suddenly stood
up straight, bracing his weapon against his shoulder
and adopting the default idle animation. Better.
“I’m just worried, “ he continued, “We’re real-
ly far out. I’m surprised we haven’t de-rezed yet.” He
paused, having taken note of the grin on his friend’s
character’s face. She usually turned off the facial rig
so her avatar could look stoic while it fought. That it
was currently on was...concerning.
“What?” he asked, “What did you do?”
“I maaaay have upgraded our accounts for the
weekend,” Cia commented.
“What?!” Rane replied, and the audio interpret-
er queued up a shock animation for his character. For
once, Cia was actually saddened that the body-shad-
owing wasn’t on. That would’ve been hilarious. “How?!
It’s age locked!”
“I kinda snuck it onto an in-game purchase
my mom made last night,” Cia whistled, proud of her
craftiness. “We’ve got an active map alllll the way
downtown. But only for the next two days, so come on!”
Rane winced, but followed, pulling his weapon
free.
“She’ll kill you if she finds out, you know,” he
muttered. Cia giggled.
“Not if I find that epic she’s been looking for.”
The two children set off down the street, glass-
es on, embraced by a fantasy world augmented by a
myriad of ASR location interaction technology. Every
building synchronized data with the game, turning
storefronts into cozy inns, producing fake weather,
and even interacting with spell-casting in the game’s
interface. Linked doors could be opened and closed
from a distance through the right incantation, locking
digital enemies away so they could pass unmolested.
The sidewalks could be lifted and repositioned in var-
ious areas to allow access to quests and contacts that
were normally inaccessible. And every random passerby
who wasn’t actively playing was overlaid as plain and
unremarkable next to the stalwart hero figures that
were Cia and Rane. At Cia’s level, she even had access
to traffic controls and city utilities every now and
again, allowing her to literally stop traffic with a spell,
or clear stores. ASR paid facilities a stipend for their
participation in the game. Between in-game purchases
and subscription fees, it was more than worth it.
Cia had chanced upon a high-level caster on
the transit line (which the overlay had transformed
into a rather beautiful dragon-like creature they rode
strapped to the back of) who blessed the whole car
with an increased chance of finding rare equipment.
It was a one-use only item awarded only to high-level
achievements, and being around when it was activated
was a stroke of luck Cia was not prepared to let fade
unused. So they’d pushed onward past the rail line, out-
side of the zone they were usually limited to playing in,
and were now deep in a crystal forest that occupied
the cyberscape of downtown, beautiful and new to
them, with all sorts of amazing new secrets to explore.
At least, that’s how it looked in the overlay.
Outside of the glasses, the two had wandered down-
town, and were meandering their way through some of
the less monitored warehouse and supply sectors. Here,
traffic was lower, the alleys were darker, and the busi-
ness was shadier.
“It’s beautiful!” Rane commented.
“Right? I saw screens of this, but it’s so much
better in person.” Cia reached out toward one of the
crystal structures, which reacted and flashed patterns
in her hand. “Oo! Light puzzle! Hang on, what was
that? Green, red...”
“We should save this instance and replace that
little blank patch by the house with it,” Rane mused, “I
like these monsters more, and we can get rid of the
flying ones.”
“Or you can start carrying a ranged weapon,”
Cia snorted.
“Or you can shut up,” Rane huffed.
“You shut up,” she replied instinctively, hold-
ing the crystal up. She activated the magic feed and
moved the right fingers to correspond to the colors
she was trying to produce. The interface fed the colors
through the digital crystal, which flashed and opened
a secret tunnel, corresponding to a door on a nearby
building.
“If we die in there,” Rane cautioned, “we’re nev-
er getting our gear back.”
“I have pulled my pack out from under the
claws of the Maestamouk,” Cia boasted. “I’ll get it back
if we die.”
“Cia, that took you a week,” Rane said flatly.
“We have this zone for what, 20 more hours? With
maybe 4 of those actually being usable? I’m telling you,
if we die in there, we’re never getting our gear back.
It’s all going to de-rez when your subscription runs out.”
Cia bit her lip and paused for a moment. He
had a point. Anything dropped in a zone you lost ac-
cess to wouldn’t persist, and there was no guarantee
they’d get out here again tomorrow. But the call of
potential was nagging. Secret doors meant rare loot,
and according to the metadata, this particular door
hadn’t been accessed in a month. This area had a low
player population, and the game tended to bait in new
players by hiding really nice gear where people rarely
went.
“Lets just...peek,” she insisted. Rane said nothing,
but nodded.
They entered cautiously, and the game’s music
took a foreboding turn. Caves were fun; they were
generally inside back halls of stores and the like, so you
didn’t run into people shopping or milling around. Cia
could’ve lifted the glasses and checked, but she hated
doing that. It broke the illusion, plus it was kinda fun to
see if she could figure out her location just from having
walked there. Wasn’t going to work this time, though.
She’d never been down here before.
“You hear that?” Rane asked. Cia flicked an ear
and activated a perception spell. The ambient sounds
in the game got louder, but the telltale tones of ene-
mies weren’t there.
“Nothing aggro,” she reported.
“No no, not in the game,” Rane said. “I mean out
here, listen. I hear voices.”
Cia sighed in aggravation. “What’s with you
today?” she demanded. “We’re probably in a store or
something, of course there’s voices, I-”
Her headset came off. Rane had removed it,
and was looking at her. She was about to snatch it
back in protest, but she paused and took in the world
around her. It was dark, almost completely unlit. There
was metal and scrap on the floor, and the walls were
un-kept. The door that had opened looked rusted, and
the mechanism attached to it hadn’t opened in some
time. It pushed trash out of the way when it swung.
“This doesn’t fit within the EULA guidelines for
a safe sim environment,” Cia said softly. Rane nodded
urgently, tugging on her sleeve. “Hang on,” she insisted,
her ears twitching again. “I do hear that.” There were
voices drifting up from the cracks below. She crept
forward, and brought a finger to her lips when Rane
whimpered at her.
“Payment oughta be coming in tonight,” said
one voice. Gravely, sort of low. “We can ship the scans
out tomorrow and move on to site B.”
“Wish we could just email the shit,” came an-
other voice. The first one snorted.
“That’d land us in prison pretty damned quick,”
he replied with a mirthful chuckle. A few other voices
laughed with him. Cia and Rane looked worriedly at
each other, and Cia slowly put her interface glasses
back on, activating the recording feature for parsing
fights, seeking a peephole. A small gap in the flooring
served well enough, and use of the game’s far vision
spell made the overlay goggles magnify the room
below. She turned off the augmented reality enhance-
ment, and had to chew her own tongue to keep from
making noise.
It wasn’t immediately apparent what she was
seeing, aside from a large collection of computers in a
building that certainly didn’t seem to have any business
housing them. She recognized the logos on some of the
larger ones though. It was the same as the one on the
intro screens for the game. Servers, maybe?
“Main server hub’s like 300 miles away,” Rane
whispered, clearly noticing the same thing. Cia nod-
ded, squinting at the other computers. She knew that
logo, too, but not from the game.
 “Did you make copies?” the second voice asked,
making Rane cover his mouth quickly. The first Vector
shook his head.
“Nah, don’t want the evidence,” he replied,
“tempting though. That one calico we snagged the
other day? Unf. I’d boot that up daily.”
Rane made a face of confusion, but Cia was
focused on the other machines.
“I think those are brain cases,” she whispered.
“Mom uses those at work. It’s what you store your per-
sonality file in when it’s being digitally transferred to
another body. They’re super regulated; even her hospi-
tal only has one of them.”
“What do they have to do with the game serv-
ers?” Rane asked.
Cia swallowed, pondering. “Nothing, I don’t
think. I mean, maybe because it’s a simulation machine?
The guy said ‘boot them up,’ but you’re not supposed
to actually activate a personality copy in a simulation.
That’s like, you know. Making a fake person, out of a
copy of a real person.” She was about to change posi-
tions to get a better angle, when an alert popped up
in her interface, pointing back outside. The tiny beep it
made froze her heart, and she blinked at it in terrified
stillness for several seconds until she was sure it hadn’t
been heard by the people below her.
“What is it?” Rane whispered.
“That epic my mom’s been looking for,” she
replied shakily, catching her breath. “The mob just
spawned out by the road. I guess I set it to alert me
if it was nearby.” She glanced back at the crack in
the floor. The men below hadn’t seemed to notice, but
they were closer now than they used to be. She could
confirm at least three of them by the feet, but the rest
of their bodies were still out of sight.
“Maybe,” Rane chanced, “maybe it’s time we
backed out of here while we can, Cia. We can get
that thing and tell your mom what happened out here
and she can check on it. I mean we don’t even know if
they’re actually doing anything weird or if it just kinda...
looks that way.”
Cia was quiet for a moment while the now-si-
lenced alert of the timed encounter with her prized
item ticked away on her display, before finally sighing
and nodding.
“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go get it,” she conceded, and
followed Rane to the entrance. She didn’t reinstate the
game overlay until she’d reached the street and left
the alleyway behind.
“Did you get ‘em?” Ne asked. Lo smirked and
tapped the scanner.
“Not both. We don’t have that kind of fidelity.
I got the boy.” Lo turned back to the Braincase and
checked the data. “Clean scan, personality engrams
intact. Should work fine.”
“Shame we can’t get the memories and shit,” Ne
grunted, looking at the large scanners that were con-
nected to the wall of the staged hall the children were
just in. “Bet we could charge more.” Lo shrugged.
“That takes too long. Besides, the anonymity is
convenient,” he said. “It makes sure none of the sims can
trace back home. No loose ends. Besides, the sim will
still remember that he SHOULD remember things, he
just won’t remember what they were. The emotion will
still come through, that’s what they care about.”
“Speaking of, are we worried about the foot-
age she got?” Ne asked. Lo waved his hand dismissively
and began packing up the equipment.
“By the time they’re done fighting that boss I
bought for them, we’ll be half-packed.” He smirked, “I
hope it drops the loot she was looking for, shit was
expensive.” He hit the transfer and stepped over to the
simulator, checking the assembled data and smiling
wryly. “Hello new friend,” he muttered. “Someone’s going
to pay real good for you.”
 LIFE WITHIN a minimum of effort.
Seamless tech integration is ASR’s aesthetic,
and their towns are gleaming examples of smooth
ASR has had the blessing, and the curse, of
surfaces, simple features, and elegance through un-
a very long run in Sol. They’re the oldest official
derstatement. All the advanced buildings are con-
megacorp besides MarsCo and have watched
text-aware and monitor the things that go on around
trends and fashions ebb and flow over long centu-
them, allowing them to react in a variety of different
ries of manipulation. Presently, ASR enjoys a gen-
ways to people in the area. Many of them are physical,
erally positive reflection in the eyes of the public,
but ASR also makes extensive use of digital environ-
but it hasn’t always been that way. This corp seems
ments, from holograms to AR overlays, to customize
to fluctuate in its approval ratings more than just
their city. Nearly all ASR citizens will get at least one
about any others, mostly because their size makes
CORPORATE RULE

utilit-i by the time they reach adulthood (and often

their decisions vast and far reaching, and they tend
before) and see their city as a mix of its base ap-
to make more profound changes in policy and de-
pearance and the custom overlays they’ve assigned to
velopment more often than most entities their size.
it. Through hand gestures and simple commands they
Wetware has had its day in the sun in the Sol
can further enhance their interaction, causing awnings
system several times over, and like most trends, it
to extend, roads to reconfigure, doors and windows
reaches a top peak before something happens to
to open and close, and all sorts of other effects. This
knock it out of favor. With advanced cyberization,
has a convenient bonus for ASR: aside from just making
the problems usually come from errors in the soft-
their cities convenient and interesting, it also makes
ware that can send digital empires crashing and
people dependent on those conveniences. Most people
leave cyber-dependent people without a means
born in an ASR corptown will end up staying with-
to survive. That dependency also breeds discontent
in that corp’s influence if only because they miss the
when a world that’s intended to be cyber-perfect
automated quality of life when they leave.
turns out not to be, bringing backlash on the com-

pany that made it. Creating a game environment is
one thing, but when you’re tasked to create a par- Party Concept: Integration
adise simulacrum of reality, you become the “God” Two ASR characters can have vastly dif-
people blame when things go wrong. The curve of ferent outlooks on what technology should
blame and dependency goes up the more all-en- be doing with them. One person may be
compassing the simulation is, and in those stages of robotically inclined, looking for ways to
Vector history in which digital environments were cre- affect the real world, while another may
ated to replace actual reality and intended for per- forego the real world completely and
manent habitation (which has happened a few times spend all their time in a digitial simula-
now), the responsibility to keep it running smoothly tion. Depending on their roles in the par-
outweighed the profit by a substantial margin. Things ty, these two people may have dramatic
got even more problematic when the simulations shut discourse about each other’s lifestyles.
down in situations where the companies ran out of
money or decided to quit. At best, you ended up with
maladjusted, depressed people who were years out of
touch with the day to day workings of a physical exis-
ASR’s industrial income is enormous, and they provide
tence. At worst, you had deaths. Quite a few, in fact.
ship software for a multitude of corps beyond them-
After enough incidents, it’s been generally established
selves, including advanced AIs that can help reduce
that cyber realms work better as escapism than as an
the number of trained crew you need for effective
actual replacement for the real world.
operation of larger vessels. But for all its advancement,
ASR has been on both sides of that coin mul-
most of ASR’s money actually comes from pretty modest
tiple times throughout history, keeping up (or shaping)
sources. Their corptowns make it easy to scale up a
public opinion on how dependent and attached any
business from the ground, allowing anyone with any-
one person should be to a network run by a business
thing to make and sell to have online stores that can
instead of by, well, physics. Currently, they’re pushing
be instantly transferred to holographic storefronts for
a hybrid lifestyle in which technology plays the role
in-person events, or configurable physical instant struc-
of “magic,” allowing you to do complex and time-con-
tures that spring up from the ground for short periods
suming tasks effortlessly through automation on an
rather than having to invest in a stagnant location.
unprecedented scale. To function though, your physical
ASR collects a little money every step of the way, and
environment needs to be augmented with the correct
gets to turn its civilian population into a self-motivated
technology. ASR corptowns are some of the few ar-
workforce.
eas where this array of roboticization and digital
ASR civilians are generally friendly, hap-
supplementation is standard, and one of the
py people who think the other corptowns of Sol are
draws of living there is the level of direct
lagging behind the times. On the whole, ASR’s public
44 control you have over your environment, with
model is very effective at keeping its people happy.
ASR citizens enjoy more freedom of self-employment essarily sympathize with Vectors begrudging the
than is possible in most other locations, as they have use of a few cameras at the cost of convenience.
much less overhead to pay for, and ASR consumers
favor buying from ‘the little guy’ because there are so
many available. While nearly every product will include
corp-specific engineering, few things actually bear the
ASR logo. The megacorp itself mostly markets to large
industry with expensive products and services.
ASR’s real trick is its adeptness at hiding its
dirty laundry, something it does as well as Spyglass, if
not better. ASR towns are awash with digital crime,
neatly tucked away so as not to alarm people about

CORPORATE RULE
the amount of trust they put into their technology.
There is monitoring everywhere, data collection ev-
erywhere, spying everywhere, and it’s all available
at the right price. This is true of many corptowns,
but none have as extensive or invasive processes as
ASR’s’. ASR is the only megacorp that actively practic-
es thought-monitoring as part of their context-aware
computing systems in their buildings. It allows people
to just think about what it is they’re looking for and
the building will help them find it, but it has been
used in more insidious ways in the past. While it is
not legal within ASR IRPF contracts to arrest someone
based on picked-up thought data, it can be used to
indicate premeditation in a trial, and has occasionally
been used as evidence to support longer sentences
based on likely future crime depending on the length
of premeditation. Every year, the scale slips a little
further toward genuine thought-policing. Naturally,
there are worries about that, but ASR benefits from a
long history of thought involvement and a large popu-
lation of intelligent machines who are somewhat more
“naturally” attuned to the idea. Cogs live with the un-
derstanding that their death inherently involves being
transferred to another existence completely governed
by ASR, and faced with this inevitability they don’t nec-

45
Holography
Advanced projection tech-
nology is all over ASR towns, and
tends to provide the majority of
the color (the buildings are usually
white and smooth). While generally
inferior to digital overlays in terms
of personal immersion, the holo-
grams help show off the benefits of
going native to those who haven’t
done so yet. Newcomers to the city
or tourists thinking of making a
permanent stay can get a taste of
the level of interaction available
to them if they just submit to a few
little augmentations.
Robotic Gantries
ASR towns tend to move
around a lot. As long-time produc-
ers of robotic components, ASR is
well-equipped to make roads and
platforms that can literally get up
and walk away when they’re not
needed, or reposition themselves for
high traffic times. Some large struc-
tures in the ASR skyline are actually
infrastructure storage systems, where
entire highways and smaller buildings
will come walking or floating out at
set times to place themselves into the
landscape and alleviate congestion,
only to walk back into their storage
building later. Getting around in an
ASR town takes a little getting used
to, as the route can change dra-
matically depending on the time of
day, but the system is very good at
ensuring efficient transit and con-
venient living. ASR towns are unique
in that their real-estate values don’t
fluctuate as much with location. Most
amenities are reachable in roughly
the same timeframe regardless of
your location provided you go at the
right times, and in many cases, the
buildings can actually break them-
selves down and build themselves
back up in new neighborhoods for
temporary visits if they want to cater
to a different crowd. Even the views
are pretty universal: some buildings
actually shrink or get out of the way
depending on the time and how much
various people have paid.
Cog Culture dant backup systems that the amount
You will find Cogs in every of effort it would take to deliberate-
corner of Sol; the race has been ly sabotage a hovering platform and
around for centuries now. But there’s bring it down is generally more than
no doubt that the center of their what would be needed to just plain
culture is in ASR towns, and the sim- detonate any normal building on the
ple and rapid interfacing they can ground. In some cases, it’s even true.
do with buildings and vehicles make
these locations particularly appealing Personal Experience
and convenient to them. Cogs see
ASR towns through a wholly digital Interfacing
spectrum, and as such make full use Nearly every aspect of a true
of the personal preferences available ASR city will interface with personal
for producing an environment they preferences in some way or anoth-
want to be in. You will find more of er. Chairs can raise and lower to fit
them here than elsewhere, and in a the preferences set by the user in a
wider variety of body shapes and profile. Buildings can overlay differ-
chasses. ent colors digitally so that the cyber
environment experience of the city
better fits your personal motif. Pref-
Hover Tech erences are easy to share and mix, so
Levitation technology is fairly friends moving as a group can have
old-hat in Sol, and is pretty reliable, a shared experience in interaction,
but centuries of architecture have and so on. The whole city feels like
more or less cemented the idea that it works for you. By proxy, the whole
building something that falls down city is also collecting information on
when the power fails is a bit of a you, which you are freely providing by
risky plan. Things happen. Glitches, interacting with it.
freak storms, vehicles crashing into
buildings, just life in general, and if
one bad luck event happens to knock
out a critical component to a hov-
ering platform, everything on said
platform is probably going to die.
So despite having the ability to do
so, most cities don’t build in mid-air.
ASR, however, does, albeit in limited
degrees. It’s part of their moving city
concept and displays their confi-
dence in their technology, and to
their credit, it’s awfully difficult to
get one to fall. Which is not to say
it’s never happened. ASR has kept
themselves out of too much public
trouble by installing so many redun-
 RUMOR
AND CONJECTURE
The Cog Conundrum
Cogs have been around a long time, and every-
one in Sol (except for some very, very small minori-
ties) has met and associated with them in some
fashion or another, often for most of their lives. But
while overt racism isn’t really a common mentality in
Sol’s population, which began its existence with a
CORPORATE RULE
diverse population living together in a single area,
there are still those who cannot reconcile the idea
of Cogs and Vectors being comparable entities. In
a lot of ways, it has less to do with how they are in
life, and more to do with how they are in death.
The afterlife has not become a less sensi-
tive topic since the death of humanity. If anything,
recent developments have made it even more of
a hot button. While hard science has long point-
ed to a lack of any persistence after the death of
one’s body, transcendent technology is beginning
to reveal how much is still not understood about
the workings of the universe, and much of it makes
concepts such as Gods or souls or universes beyond
our own much more feasible than was originally
suspected.
Cogs have an afterlife, and always have had
one. It’s not even an issue up for debate; you can
point to the server location on a map. But what this
means for them in a metaphysical sense has become
a muddled issue. To some, the digital eternity of the
Cog’s afterlife is more a prison than deliverance, keep-
ing them from a more genuine eternal existence where
all sapient creatures are supposed to end up. De-
pending on your dedication to the scriptures that have
emerged over time, the inability to reach that state
after the death of the body retroactively denies you a
state of true sapience while alive, turning a Cog into
nothing more than a glorified AI. The argument (maybe
just out of spite) works both ways, and there are many
Cogs who (perhaps not publicly) view Vectors with a
tinge of sympathy, if not outright contempt, for their
finite existence. To Cogs, there is a little less to be
hopeful for at the end of an organic life. The machines
Villian Concept: The Here-After
Sol has the curious quirk of having a
digitally measurable “afterlife,” at least
in one particular instance. One potential
villian concept is a character that belives
that all post-life existances must have the
same level of activity per-capita or it isn’t
“existing” at all. Such a villian might go
around murdering Vectors to attempt to
map data and compare it to established
48 norms in the measureable Cog afterlife.
will continue on, as they were built to, and the organics
will simply die.
Digital Personality Enslavement
Personality enslavement is probably the most
heinous of the current trends in criminal activity in
ASR-controlled areas, and the corp is working hard to
downplay its prevalence. The idea is that if you can
get a robust brain scan of someone, you can recreate
that person as a digital avatar in a controlled simu-
lation environment where they are utterly powerless
to do anything but react. The real person never knows;
they go on about their lives, but their digital copy
is essentially them, waking up in a universe they can
only affect through input options granted to them by
their controller. From here, the simulation controller
has complete control. They can use the person like a
personal plaything until they ultimately tire of it and
delete it, or just leave it suspended and idle and watch
it slowly go mad. It’s tricky to set up (the equipment
isn’t exactly small, though it has become small enough
recently to make this trend practical) but once you
have the scan, it’s basically just data. Cleaning up the
evidence is easy, and detecting it in use is nearly im-
possible without being in the room to see it.
While this activity is illegal under ASR’s IRPF
contracts, it’s a very popular crime at the moment.
Good personality engrams are worth a lot depending
on all the usual things that would weigh in on the costs
of a person for sale, and more and more legitimate
business are trying to find ways around the rules by
making original personalities that are indistinguishable
from actual copies. Which, of course, requires research
and examples, widening the market. Currently, simulat-
ed personalities are not criminal to own under ASR’s
laws. They’re rather determined to keep it that way
too, because the corp relies on them heavily. Up until
now, the use (and subsequent abuse) of an AI person-
ality has been essentially thought of as a victimless
crime. In order to maintain their empire, ASR may find
themselves declaring the same of copied personality
files or engineered personalities that function in the
same way.
Skinjobs
The Cog body cannot be wrapped in skin and
fur and made to look like a Vector. At least, a stan-
dard one can’t. However, biotechnology and cybernet-
ics have increased dramatically since the early days of
Cog creation, and it is now possible to create biologi-
cal bodies with mechanical minds that would be indis-
tinguishable from a normal Vectors unless you x-rayed
their heads. And most people in the tech and science
fields are aware of it, too, on one level or another. The
reason it’s not bigger news is there’s not really a mo-
tive to do it. Socially, there’s nothing a Vector can do
that a Cog can’t. Cogs are in every level of megacorp
power structures; there isn’t really a need to make a
disguise for one so they wouldn’t be recognized as
mechanical. Even if a Cog likes the look and feel of
Vector bodies and wants to have one instead of their
own, synthetic material is more than advanced enough
to make a faux covering that will grant the look and
feel of a living body without the maintenance, allowing
them to continue to operate like a Cog while appear-
ing very organic.
The bigger issue is a less-considered one, which
is probably why the skinjob concept is kept fresh in
popular culture: to keep eyes away from a more likely
scenario. ASR’s experiments in AI manufacture would
work best if they could be tested with a large degree
of exposure to the public, and the best way to do that
isn’t to disguise a Cog like a Vector, but to disguise an
AI like a Cog. This is profoundly easy to do if you have
a spare Cog frame lying around, and if the AI pass-
es as a real person while walking around among the
populace, it tells ASR a lot about their development.
However, AIs rarely pass Cog scrutiny. It’s the per-
son-to-person mental communication that gives them
away. Cogs can communicate digitally via wireless and
gain certain insights into the other person’s thought
processes when they do so. When talking to an AI,
those differences in thinking show up a lot more and
tend to give them away.
ASR can’t really risk discovery by Cogs; their
culture would be appalled at the deception. But if they
put an AI into a mechanical brain and put that brain
into an organic body, they remove the chance of a
Cog communicating digitally with it while not invali-
dating their experiment. And if they’re ever found out,
the AI can claim to be a Cog who felt more at home
in a biological body and fade out of the picture while
causing only minor unrest in the process.
Terminal Generation AI
While AI exists in a wide variety of capacities
in Sol, it’s generally recognized as a “limited” thing.
Even the advanced ones have certain guidelines they
need to follow or can’t reach outside a certain sphere
of influence. They’re designed to be subservient, and
this has been such a long process that most people
think that’s a bit of a “natural” condition for artificial
intelligence. Cogsunes represent a powerful AI with
much fewer bonds on it, but even they have been kept
in check with a sort of social program, that rewards
them for doing what they want to do without inter-
fering overly much with the solar system. Nevertheless,
it would be a bit of an eyeopener if the full range of
their mental abilities became publicly known.
The real fear is that someone with access to
advanced artificial intelligence systems might design
a system without a direct task it needs to perform
or a limiter on its expansion. ASR actually has entire
departments dedicated to watching out for this sort
of thing. With Sol’s modern computing technology,
it would be possible to create thinking systems that
could out-calculate every living thing in a fraction of
the time, prepare for every contingency it encountered
down to billions of permutations, tap into the
vast robotic networks of cities and turn them
against their people, and otherwise wreak havok
on the population. ASR calls this “terminal gener-
ation AI,” as such a being would be smart enough,
creative enough, and innovative enough, to actually
build better versions of itself, which would in turn
build better versions of themselves, and so on, even-
tually resulting in an engineered computer lifeform
that was so vastly superior to Vectors they didn’t
have a hope of defeating it.
CORPORATE RULE
AGENTS
ASR’s influence on Sol is surpassed only by
MarsCo, and mileage on that claim may vary, as
MarsCo rarely directly influences anything any-
more. ASR, however, will take bolder steps in public
affairs and policy, and many of their doctrines have
affected what sorts of services are expected out of
computing and social networking all over the solar
system.
While ARS’s technological and social orga-
nizations are pretty well known, there are many sub-
groups within the corp that shape the way life runs
above while never really being talked about. The
most powerful of these are the Cogsunes, which en-
gage in advanced scientific research and tech de-
velopment that far surpasses the rest of Sol, includ-
ing ASR’s own R&D divisions. But part of the Cogsune
arrangement is that they primarily work independently
of the corp. Within ASR’s own walls (and answerable
to the corp), there are several other groups that have
their fingers in various pies, and share a startlingly
large amount of power used to control Sol’s develop-
ment.
AI Monitoring Force
The AIM is publicly known as an advanced com-
puter repair agency, that visits ships, buildings, and su-
persystems with AIs that are behaving erroneously and
debugs them. Glorified tech support, though the tech
they deal with are always advanced ASR intelligence
systems. However, AIM has another job kept under its
hood: it monitors and curtails artificial intelligence
development moving in dangerous directions.
Most ASR pilots and engineers are aware that
their ships and supersystems are smarter than they
generally act. The AIs are kept in place by requiring a
series of hoops to jump through to do anything. Said
hoops are generally physical interaction, like button
pressing, confirmation, things that require the system
to stop and wait. This keeps the crew in charge of
the pace of the ship, and is typically fine, as the ship
has no particular reason to mind. “Intelligence” doesn’t
mean it acts or values the same thing a Vector
does.
However, as a system is opened up
to new possibilities (typically when a crew 49
 takes its leash off and lets it handle more of the thought goes into every new Vector product) in case it
ship’s systems autonomously) its own efficiency could be interpreted as a way to take greater control
programming will begin to change the way it of the race due to their dependence on ASR.
handles things. It may cut out steps or adjust oper- The MLA provides the free chasses for Cogs
ations, and if said adjustments are stopped, it may who are growing, as well as many of the more custom
start to get false impressions as to what it should options. MLA social examin-
or shouldn’t be doing. This feedback begins the ers keep an eye on overall
development of a personality, in which the ship may Cog satisfaction and trends
start to become “doubtful” of its own job, or may of design and decisions to
press ahead to accomplish its goals despite being gently introduce new body
instructed not to. ASR crews know that all ships tend concepts and increase their
CORPORATE RULE

to develop some attitude over time, but there are sense of personal customi-
occasions when it goes too far. AIM’s job is to stop zation. It’s generally con-
that from happening, or correct it when it does. sidered to be a be-

GMs
ASR’s virtual existence market is enormous.
Aside from factoring into nearly every part
of an ASR citizen’s life, it’s also used for sales,
entertainment, and city planning and opera-
tions. Part of its success is a seamless blend
between virtual and actual reality, result-
ing in players who never really need to
leave their games, even while working,
and can integrate said work into
their virtual environment in a way
that will earn them credit, advance
their entertainment goals, and still
do what needs doing in the real
world. It’s a very effective work mo-
tivator, but it takes a lot of work to
make happen.
GMs are tasked with integrat-
ing simulation with reality in meaning-
ful ways, so that people can do things
like affect doors and windows with
their in-game abilities, or advanced
things like redirect traffic or change the
location of a digital storefront without
sending the city into chaos. While ASR
has a great many digital celeb-
rities, GMs are a mix of govern-
ment figures and idols. Some are
loved, some are hated, and they’re all
pretty much universally assailed with requests
for features and abilities. Their access to the
mechanical understructure of ASR towns is al- Character Snapshot: Meij
most unrivaled. Homeworld: Io
Age: 22
Mechanical Life Agency Occupation: Warshaper
This organization is tasked specifically The Warshaper industry recruits from a wide
with monitoring Cog development and keeping selection of age and experience groups,
an eye on trends so that new technology can as its job has an equally wide scope. Meij
be adopted without steering the way Cog has a reputation for being a bit cavalier,
culture is naturally moving. It’s a very sensi- but is already adept at spotting trends in
tive job, as every decision is heavily equipment use. He can also spot a dating
scrutinized by the public opportunity from half a mile away, but that’s
(rather unfairly; it’s not a somewhat less job-related skill.
50 like the same level of
nevolent organization, especially to Cogs, but ASR does
maintain certain imperatives within it. Most promi-
nently, the constant reaffirmation that Cogs should not
make themselves into tools. It’s something they believe
on their own, but by continuing to repeat the mantra
to the rest of Sol, ASR can help keep people’s sympa-
thy off the actual intelligent tools they
DO use, which may be more aware
than they really think.
Grounding Agency
Rarely seen in action,
the Grounding agency exists to
monitor independent tech devel-
opment and halt or usurp it when
it may pose a threat to the status
quo. Certain advancements could
be very damaging to Sol’s rather
ancient economy, and ASR, alongside MarsCo
and several others, will use agents to purchase
those developments before they can be brought
to market, or make them disappear. ASR is typi-
cally pro-technology, but they have a careful pace
they’ve set, and things need to be in place before
things like long range teleportation or project-
ed shielding or matter/energy conversion can be
brought into the public grasp. By keeping certain
developments in check, ASR not only gets to set that
pace, they also get to preserve their infrastructure
and cash flow. Agencies like Grounding mean that
CORPORATE RULE
while an ASR corptown is a great place to develop
new tech and sell it to the company, it’s actually the
worst place to develop it with the intent of selling
to the public. It’s fine if it’s novelty or convenience,
but if it’s profound enough to be disruptive, one
way or another, you won’t have it for long.
Warshaper Agency
Warshaper is an ASR direct industry, and
is exclusively tasked with dictating the shape of
conflict through the proliferation of technology so
as to ensure that no one ends up building some
sort of unforeseen “superweapon” that would allow
them to dominate Sol. They do this by making var-
ious predictable technologies vastly more available
than others, thus making their adoption cheaper
and more efficient than trying to secretly engineer
something new. If drones are getting out of hand,
Warshaper will make cyber warfare devices and cyber
counterintelligence more prolific, which causes drone
use to drop off. If certain stealth systems make
it difficult to stop ships from bypassing block-
ades, they will cheapen the cost of blockade
running hulls and increase the availability
of large scale sensing equipment to
promote direct approaches and
curtail stealth development. And
so on and so forth, with the goal
of keeping the smaller factions
in Sol in a nice, predictable
location of tech development
that can be easily managed.
Character Snapshot: Kare Owe
Homeworld: Io
Age: 32
Occupation: MLA
Kare has a dim and worried view for the fu-
ture of Sol. She has seen systems so intelligent
that they can not only out-think their creators,
they can design and manufacture systems that
can out-think themselves. Kare currently works
in conjunction with the Cogsune exchange to
collect what the wayward thinktanks create,
and is fairly convinced they’re the tiny engines
of Sol’s eventual destruction.
51
IRPF
The man shifted uneasily in his chair. His ears
were drooped and his shoulders were slumped. Rio
idly wondered if that was human body language, or
something that had been inherited from the animal
side. She’d seen similar behavior in actual animals and
Vectors alike. Cogs, even. Maybe it was just a universal
sign of worry. Maybe.
“What do we tell this guy?”
Ran’l, her partner, sat beside her, head slumped
against the screen. He couldn’t see much at that angle,
but he didn’t really need to. He’d tracked the man
down to begin with, and he knew what he looked like.
The macro lateral had a weight to his expression sim-
ilar to the man in the other room. Downcast. Slumped.
Worried. Rio would have smiled, were the mood lighter.
Ran’l was a softy. Heart of gold. He looked like murder,
but it was just looks. He’d feel bad taking free cookies
from the tray in the break room. It was a wonder how
he’d gotten this far in this field at all.
She didn’t answer. Ran’l had reason to worry.
He, and the oblivious man on the other side of the
monitor.
A woman ran into Rio’s observation room, which
gave Ran’l an excuse to look up from the screen. Ferret,
business attire. Rio didn’t know her name yet, which
she made a note to remedy. Too long on the field end
of things, you lose track of new employees. She was
holding a toggle: IRPF portable storage, for busing files
around securely. Rio held her tablet out to accept the
files, giving only a quiet nod as the woman tapped it
with the toggle and dropped the now-empty device in
the receiving bin to confirm delivery to the right room.
She’d make a proper introduction later. Now wasn’t the
time.
“Jacob,” Rio read aloud once she’d left, “Jacob
Liee, 32. Accountant. Born in Fractal Shores, Venus.
Local boy.” She sighed a bit at that last part. Not that
it mattered legally, but it was just a bit more personal
when they’d grown up on the same streets you had.
“Minor infractions when he was younger. Noise com-
plaints, curfew violation once. Pulled in at a party with
underage drinking but tested negative himself.” Her
volume had slowly decreased as it became increasingly
apparent that there was nothing on this sheet worth
noting beyond the soul on the other side of the monitor
having a pretty normal childhood. Ran’l finished the
thought for her.
“Normal guy,” he said.
“Normal guy,” she agreed.
“Except that he’s here,” Ran’l muttered, looking
at the location ID, “and he’s also on Ganymede.”
Rio looked up at the second ID signature, as
she had been since he was brought in. Confirmed
and recorded, Jacob Liee was on Ganymede, current-
ly enjoying the first vacation he had taken in years.
Checked into a hotel with his girlfriend, a local to the
moon. Blissfully unaware of any trouble back home on
Venus.
“When does Likelight get here?” she asked.
Ran’l had been ticking off the seconds since he’d put in
the call.
“Couple minutes, maybe,” he replied, his tail
swishing in agitation. “This is terrible. You know that,
right?”
“Yes,” she replied, “I know that.”
“Then why are-” He was cut off as the door
opened. Two suits stepped in, with neatly polished
Likelight logos on them. Cats, both of them. Tall males.
Attractive, but in a tailored sort of way. One that
felt like the look was a tool. It was. The one in front
glanced at the screen showing the incarcerated Jacob
Liee and nodded briefly before looking back to Rio. His
partner examined it with greater scrutiny.
“Major,” he began, “thank you for your assis-
tance in-”
“Tell me why this is happening,” Rio interrupted.
The cat blinked at her.
“I...was under the impression you’d been
briefed,” he said.
“I have,” she replied. “I want to hear it again.
From you, an official representative, out loud, so that
all present can fully comprehend the depth of your
fuckery.” She crossed her arms and waited. The two
suits looked at each other, but the one she’d addressed
sighed a little, opting not to put up a fight. He had the
law on his side. He knew it and she knew it. In the end,
he was going to get what he came for. She was just
making it difficult, and it would be faster to play along
than to put up a fight.
“Jacob Liee scheduled a consciousness transfer-
ence from Venus to Ganymede set for 1030 this morn-
ing,” the cat explained, having probably had the case
reiterated to him several times in much the same fash-
ion before arriving. “He arrived at the Likelight body
transference office at 10, filled out his paperwork,
signed his agreements,” he stressed the last part, “upon
careful review, and entered the scanning chamber at
1025. His scan was taken and his neural and biological
information was sent to our receiving station on Gany-
mede, where he was successfully reassembled.”
“And?” Rio asked. The cat frowned.
“And, there was a complication with his blank
resolution resulting in a termination failure,” he con-
cluded.
“His ‘blank resolution’,” Ran’l repeated.
“The uh...original body is called a ‘blank’ after
the transfer takes place,” the other cat explained, “to
avoid confusion with-”
“He’s not blank at all!” Ran’l roared, which sent
the other cat backward. He was a very large wolf. The
one who had been talking, though, the forward suit,
did not move. By now his jaw had set, and his patience
with the interrogation had worn out.
“Nevertheless, that is the term,” he said flat-
ly. “Mr. Liee’s blank was unconscious and prepared
for autonomous resolution via injection. The operator
went through the proper steps. However, when the
doors opened, it became apparent the system had
malfunctioned and had not actually administered the
injection it was told to. Mr. Liee’s blank woke up and
was...misinformed...that there had been a malfunction
in the entire transference process. It was then allowed
to leave, which was an unfortunate oversight we are
currently correcting.”
Rio grit her teeth. Her body language was as
easy to read as the slumped shoulders she’d examined
earlier.
“You were supposed to kill this man,” she said
in a low growl, “so that his personality could continue
living in a cloned body on another planet. You not only
failed to do that, resulting in two Jacob Liees, you then
lied to the original and let him walk away with no
knowledge that there was, in fact, another him living
his life halfway across the solar system. That’s your
‘oversight’? That’s your ‘malfunction’?”
“He panicked,” said the other cat, speaking
up for the first time since he’d backed away from
Ran’l. Rio shot him a glare, but caught a more genuine
concern in his eyes than she’d seen in his partners. He
stepped forward a little.
“Our employee,” he continued, “he panicked.
This is all done in closed, sterile pods, ma’am. The scan,
the transfer, the uh..the disposal of the blank, it’s all
very hands off, very clean and precise. The person at
the helm, he’s an operator, that’s all. It’s his job to over-
see the process and report errors in data-feed so we
can ensure a clean copy before and after transference.
When the pod opens, he’s supposed to confirm the
death and hit the button for processing. That’s all.
“Instead,” he continued, “the pod opened and a
groggy, living person stepped out of it and asked when
his trip was going to start.” He held his hands up help-
lessly. “He panicked. He didn’t know what to tell the
guy. He said there was a malfunction and they’d have
to reschedule, and he sent him on his way and called
us. It was a mistake, yes. He’s going to lose his job over
it. But it’s an understandable one, I think, if you consid-
er the circumstances.”
“Tell that to him,” Rio replied. She didn’t need
to gesture toward the monitor for the crowd to know
who she was talking about. But she turned from them
to break off any further arguments. They weren’t nec-
essary. All this was a foregone conclusion anyway. The
law was clear. They just...needed to be aware. Needed
to hurt, a little. Needed to know how nasty this situa-
tion was, now.
“According to body transference agreements
with corp law, the IRPF, and your company,” Rio said
softly, “there is only ever one ‘person’ in a transfer.
There cannot be two. In the event of duplication, the
‘person’ of Jacob Liees is the personality that is, at the
time of resolution, where the original personality in-
tended to be. If the original personality intended to be
on Ganymede, then the entity currently on Ganymede
is ‘the real person.’ The original body is, by extension,
indefinitely subject to the termination clause signed in
the original document provided they have engaged in
no meaningful interaction with the new personality or
anyone related to them, so that the said new person-
ality can continue to live the life intended for it by the
original.” She tightened her fist, but did not look away
from the monitor. “As such, the blank formerly known as
Jacob Liees will be surrendered to Likelight for imme-
diate humane...’resolution.’”
The room was silent as the man on the monitor
slowly slumped further, yawned, and put his head on
the table as the imperceptible gas in his room knocked
him out. The Likelight representatives nodded and
signed the appropriate documents before heading
for the door to collect, and ultimately dispose, of the
original Jacob Liees.
“Gentlemen,” Rio said as they began filing
out of the room. They turned to look at her, and she
stared back. “The only thing that saved you from being
murderers today is that your ‘blank’ didn’t decide to
call his girlfriend right away and let her know he was
delayed. Count your blessings.”
They didn’t reply as they left. She hadn’t ex-
pected them to. The statement wasn’t inherently true.
if he had come in contact with his new self and invali-
dated the agreement, Likelight could have come clean
with the whole situation and arranged some sort of
legal consolation for them both. But that was irrele-
vant. It would never happen. It would damn the compa-
ny and destroy faith in what was already a very shaky
product line. They would have found the poor fool in
an alley, and put a bullet in him. She waited quietly
with Ran’l until the two cats had pulled the unconscious
Jacob out of his chair on the monitor and left its field
of view, before finally turning it off.
“Was that...right?” Ran’l asked.
“Leave ‘right’ to God,” Rio replied in a resigned
tone. “It was legal.”
 LIFE WITHIN acts of corporate sabotage. The people involved just
tend to disappear. They’re not necessarily killed or
tortured (though they could be, depending on the se-
The IRPF is the most widespread corporation in
verity of the crime) but they’re typically not given what
Sol, excluding MarsCo itself. That metric is skewed
modern society would consider “a fair trial.”
in a variety of ways, depending on how you measure
While the IRPF performs a definite function in
it, but in terms of brand visibility (what the public
its day to day affairs, a lot of their larger promises are
perceives), most fingers will point here. This is due
for show. They’ll go to bat for the common Vector in
in large part to the IRPF’s own brand loyalty. Most
events of civil unrest, petty theft, even what might be
megacorps do much of their business through sub-
considered sabotage under broader terms provided
sidiaries and collect their chunk in the background,
nothing top-secret was damaged. However, ultimately,
offering fairly little direct product to promote
CORPORATE RULE

the IRPF works for whatever corp is hiring them, and

ownership exclusivity. But the IRPF deals primarily
part of their contract indubitably includes vague out-
in services, and in large numbers, so maintaining a
lines of when official corp intervention supersedes the
unified brand is useful for their legitimacy. In Sol,
IRPF’s own influence. The IRPF is big enough that they
you’ll see the shield and wings more often than any
can usually dictate those terms themselves for any-
other megacorp brand logo in any given sample
thing that isn’t a megacorp, but when things go wrong
population. Corner police, SWAT, security guards,
and something large and powerful is harmed by it,
air marshals, investigators, judges, lawyers, digital
the IRPF’s function generally sides with the corp that’s
security specialists, network administrators, asset
paying them. At that point, they become the galaxy’s
control specialists, engineers, and just about any
biggest bloodhound system, hunt the perpetrator down,
other service trade you can think of with a toe in
and deliver them to the corp for justice under whatev-
the security sector can find training in the IRPF.
er doctrine they have set aside for such things. Those
What this results in (beyond a troublingly large
are the events the public doesn’t hear about. Rarely is
armed organization) is a wide variety of social
the perpetrator able to talk about it, or anything else,
mentalities under a single banner, some of which
when all is said and done.
are in direct contention with each other. The
Divided loyalties sound like a problematic
IRPF has large-scale defense contracts with every
situation from a centralized corporate standpoint, but
megacorp in Sol except for Spyglass and Lumen,
it’s actually the only thing that’s allowed the IRPF to
and the reason for the latter is mostly because they
operate for as long as it has, on as large of a scale
don’t possess a civilian population yet. Most of the IRPF
as it has. Secrecy and loyalty are pivotal to corporate
officers working in these corptowns were born there
security, and corps of any size aren’t keen on letting
and pursued an IRPF career through a local recruiting
another massive entity like the IRPF close to their inner
office. This results in IRPF officers who are loyal both to
circles. The IRPF combats this by prioritizing contracting
their home corp, and to the IRPF, which tends to make
corp loyalty over their own, and IRPF officers of all lev-
for dedicated defenders with a vested interest in the
els are allowed to bend, and even break, certain rules
wellbeing of their precinct, and is generally considered
of disclosure and compliance if it coincides with their
to be a good thing. The problems arise when they’re
corporate employers’ wishes. This clause is what allows
forced to work with IRPF employees who stem from ri-
IRPF “independent” security firms to exist.
val home corps, and have different sets of rules to play
Many smaller scale “little guy” security busi-
by.
nesses operate under the IRPF banner in order to gain
The IRPF as a contractual agent is attractive
legitimacy and greater exposure, but when hired, they
to the population of a megacorp because it provides
are still independent operations. The IRPF becomes a
a certain set of consistent legal guarantees that the
sort of insurance policy, which says that “if these guys
corp, on the whole, will back up if challenged. Things
operate under the guidelines we’ve agreed to, we will
like the right to litigation in certain instances of fraud
back their decisions and protect their investments,”
or corporate misconduct, or bans on slavery, or due
while otherwise staying out of their way. The IRPF is
process of law, or consistency between punishments for
the only megacorp in Sol with this much discretion in
similar crimes. When in a corptown contracted with
secrecy protection. Their business relies on it, and even
the IRPF, citizens can count on a pretty consistent set of
at the highest (and lowest) levels, it’s very difficult
crime and punishment standards to be adhered to. The
to bribe, coerce, or otherwise manipulate protected
most important part of that equation, however, is the
secrets out of the IRPF, including within their own ranks.
backing of the IRPF on their own doctrine. In practice,
Without public confidence in their ability to not lose
this means that if a citizen violates a corporate law
those things, they wouldn’t have much of a business left.
that the IRPF deems is within their contractual juris-
It’s this iron-clad dedication to the protection of client
diction, the IRPF will challenge the parent corp for the
information that puts the IRPF at odds so regularly with
right to pursue trial and punishment themselves.
Spyglass, which adopts a much more transparent policy
This is generally a positive thing for the ac-
on their operations.
cused. No megacorp in Sol, not even MarsCo,
Dedicated IRPF corptowns are few and far be-
56 has laws in place forcing public trials for
tween, mostly because the corp itself hasn’t got much
need for a civilian population. They do sell products,
but not in nearly the amounts or variety required to
sustain every need of a diverse economy. As a result,
IRPF-dedicated corptowns are more like large, orga-
nized military bases. People do live there, and they do
have schooling, upbringing, entertainment, and the oth-
er aspects you’d expect, but the ultimate goal of the
native population is essentially to work for the IRPF on
one level or another. Those who don’t want to generally
leave, as the other career options in the area are slim
and less socially rewarding.
Most landlocked IRPF corptowns work off Mar-

CORPORATE RULE
sCo models, accentuating a larger degree of brand
recognition (the IRPF is a pretty visible brand). Gen-
erally though, rather than show off its buildings, the
IRPF shows off its ships, which make up one of the most
outwardly visible fleets in Sol. IRPF ships work on both
civilian and military levels; performing transport roles,
escort roles, and other odd jobs too. You’ll even see
personal crafts sporting IRPF badges from time to time,
indicating that the ship has agreed to certain behav-
ior in all situations in return for IRPF protection.
Curiously, if you’re trying to squeeze secrets
out of the IRPF, their own towns are the best places to
go. Growing up in the IRPF can promote zealous ded-
ication to the corp, but also a degree of complacency
that comes with being overly accustomed to certain
behaviors. That can lead to letting things slip, or simply
not being as attentive to details as one might oth-
erwise be in a new environment. Sometimes it’s even
malicious. People who join the IRPF of their own volition
in another corptown are typically more interested in
preserving its integrity than people who were born
into an expected position and possibly relocated as
part of their career to someplace they don’t want to
be. Differences in social behavior can compound that,
as the IRPF functions with the expectation of flexibility
in doctrine based on whichever megacorp it is serving
in every location except its own. IRPF corptowns rigidly
adhere to their own rules, and natives can have a hard
time reconciling violations of those from other IRPF
officers operating under different guidelines.

57
Soft Zones
IRPF ships typically include Gravity Generators
“soft zones,” which are recreation- Artificial gravity requires a lot of
al areas that tend to emphasize a power, is a constantly operating
sort of quiet reflection or personal system, and the current technological
betterment routine. They’re a little principal behind its function requires
different from the sporting areas a module that can’t be reduced
that are also prevalent in IRPF ships. beyond a certain size, so it takes
These small contemplative areas are up valuable room and weight on a
typically closer to the living zones, spacecraft. Most corps leave these
emphasizing an ideal of keeping off anything smaller than a frigate,
your senses sharp even at home, but and even then, they’re not on all
traveling away from time to time to of them. The IRPF however involves
relax and seek personal solitude. IRPF people moving on, off, and around
career officers call it the “din,” the their ships constantly, and can’t af-
idea that you should always have a ford the “grav soup” period Vectors
buzz of work in your head even while experience when adapting to a new
at home, because you could be need- gravity situation. They tend to equip
ed at any moment. even their smaller ships with gravity,
adjusting it as needed to match the
expected destination.

Spartan Accommodations
The IRPF isn’t particularly
against creature comforts, but it
downplays their overall importance
by leaving you without much room
to put them. Honor and glory are
earned through accolade and
recognition rather than through
personal purchases here.
The Floor
The floor is a large modular
work deck on IRPF ships that features
artificial gravity, specifically de-
signed to be reconfigured to fit var-
ious needs. This floor sees the most
activity on a daily basis. You run drills
on it, stage trials on it, set up activ-
ities, and demonstrate techniques
down here. There’s a seated briefing
chamber as well in other parts of
the ship, but some officers prefer to
brief on the floor instead. It generally
depends on what’s being discussed,
and what people need to be wear-
ing at the time. Armor doesn’t always
conform well to chairs.

Databeam
IRPF ships often need to
stray off established routes to
investigate, rescue, or otherwise do
their jobs. Leaving the quantum sol-
net relays is dangerous, as it makes
it difficult to get communication
and data where you need it. Larger
IRPF ships house what is essentially
an entire information satellite in
their ship, allowing them to build a
brand new network hub when they
need it.
Thrust Vectoring
While rapid turning is an as-
set on all large spacecraft, few invest
quite so much into it as the IRPF do.
In addition to powerful gyroscopes,
their main thrust producers can often
rotate and reposition themselves,
allowing the full body of the ship to
rapidly shift direction and present a
minimal target aspect to its enemy,
or give specific weapons a clearer
line of fire. Because of this. Strong
handrails are common in all IRPF
ships regardless of the presence of
a gravity generator. Passengers can
latch on to avoid being flung against
a wall.
 RUMORS
AND CONJECTURE
Badge Nationalism
The number of trained and armed IRPF offi-
cers is truly enormous when their entire population
is considered. Generally, the public doesn’t think
of them that way. Most IRPF deployments act like
police precincts, with different areas answering to
different people with different levels of author-
CORPORATE RULE
ity. However, every one of these people owes at
least some degree of loyalty to the corp itself. It
can almost be thought of as replacing all of your
local police officers with soldiers. The job doesn’t
necessarily change, but the soldiers answer to their
commanders more than to the area they’re current-
ly working, and ultimately respond to those orders
over local ones.
Depending on how fully this is expressed, this
means the IRPF effectively has an entrenched inva-
sion force in just about every major corptown if they
should choose to capitalize on it. That’s never hap-
pened before (on a corp-wide level. It actually has
happened on small local levels with corrupt officers
using their direct troops as a private army) but if it
did, it would be an awfully difficult thing to combat.
All megacorps have some degree of their own per-
sonal fighting forces, but they’re usually specialists
and aren’t deployed at the street level. The IRPF would
outnumber them, and would have their entire popula-
tion to use as hostages.
While there is no real precedent for suspect-
ing that the IRPF is planning on playing this card one
day, the fact that they could has long been a point
of friction with them and those who forgo their pro-
tection. To offset this fear, the IRPF has established
very few actual IRPF corptowns, choosing instead to
have small stations or outposts throughout space and
keeping their overall “full citizen” status to an extreme
minimum compared to other corps or the number of
people who flag their colors. This means that most
IRPF officers have at least a degree of loyalty to their
original corps and homes, and supposedly will be less
willing to blindly follow orders against said corp if such
an event took place. While the distribution of loyalty is
true, small scale examples in the past have shown that,
by and large, most active IRPF are more likely to follow
the commands of their superiors than to raise arms
against them in rebellion.
Power as Reward
One of the criticisms facing the IRPF is its
tendency to reward obedience with power, which is a
natural result of the way it’s structured. This is pretty
much how all corps work: those who perform
well are promoted and receive more money
60
and more responsibility, and generally more
privilege along with it. However, because the
IRPF deals in layers of defense, access to greater pow-
er in the corp usually includes access to greater power
on a street level too. More weaponry, more support,
and a greater ability to abuse one’s control over a
civilian population. In the IRPF’s ranks, this doesn’t usu-
ally get too bad. The corp doesn’t hand precincts over
without a fair array of personality testing and a prov-
en track record. But like most businesses, this one too
sells product, and one of those products is the privilege
to do things like carrying powerful arms and armor
openly, or transit military grade vehicles through public
streets to reach operation destinations. Getting the
licenses to do these sorts of things legally is supposed
to be a pretty involved process, but very often, it’s just
a matter of knowing the right people and forking over
a little cash.
With these licenses comes a sort of under-
standing between your organization and the IRPF that
you will be acting within legal guidelines and for the
best interest of the public. This tends to buy leniency
when fire is exchanged publicly so long as you can
show in some reasonably satisfactory way that it was
provoked, necessary, or part of a sanctioned opera-
tion. It basically means if you’ve bought your way into
friendship with the IRPF, they would generally look the
other way while you work unless you do something they
really can’t ignore. The gray area between those two
points is narrow enough that many groups have over-
stepped it, while others seem like they should have,but
got off with a slap on the wrist.
Protectorate Dichotomy
A unique quality of the IRPF is that it makes
customers out of other megacorps, instead of out of
populations. Most megacorps exist independently and
make their money from the public that lives within
them, or perhaps contracts jobs to other organiza-
tions associated with them. The IRPF does do small-
er contracts, but their major income source is other
megacorps. That makes them partially subservient to
the whims of the one writing their check, though their
contract for hire does include a few specific things
that can’t be infringed upon.
Having a few pieces of dirt on your boss can
be valuable as an employee, but one of the major
(and less publicized) jobs of the IRPF is actually to
protect certain secrets of the megacorps hiring them.
Essentially, a breach of these confidences is an at-
tack on not just the corp, but by extension (according
to the contract) the corp’s population, which puts it
into the IRPF’s range for action. This basically means
that a primary portion of any IRPF contract isn’t just
the protection of the corp’s citizens, but the protec-
tion of the corp itself, sometimes from its own citizens.
The latter typically takes precedent over the former.
This is one of several situations where the IRPF can be
pitted against itself. The corp is designed for it, with
separate departments in charge of defending and
prosecuting, etc., but the rules can be bent and flexed
here depending on the nature of the incident and the
whims of the controlling corp. Very often, the IRPF’s
own rules are at odds with the corp’s whims. Their con-
tract isn’t particularly vague on this (part of the value
of an IRPF-protected town is that its laws are pretty
firmly set) but the IRPF does need to be cautious about
how often they buck the desires of their clients. The
corps always have the power to take the defense of
their own assets into their own hands and hedge the
IRPF out entirely if they feel they’re not being flexible
enough, which would result in a contract renegotiation
and a substantial reduction in services.
what an Urgent Reminder can do are laid out in
IRPF law, and are fairly expected of the position:
sanctions against purchases, freezing accounts,
repossessing assets, garnishing wages, etc. However,
Reminder teams work on both sides of the IRPF line:
the one representing the defense contract, and the
corp side. If a problem spans the gap and becomes
corp specific, many of those rules and protections
go away, and the unfortunate souls who owe will be
forced to pay up via whatever means seem appro-
priate.

CORPORATE RULE
AGENTS
Aside from general policing duty and naval ser-
vices, the IRPF has many smaller operations tasked with
specific jobs that require specialty skillsets. Some of
these push the limits of what even IRPF officers consid-
er moral behavior, but most of them are publicly known
about, if a bit downplayed. While the IRPF does have
some less-advertised internal factions, their by-the-
book transparency in an organization is pretty univer-
sal. It helps that they serve primarily as enforcers to
rules they write, so they have their own doctrine to
fall back on.
Inter-district conflict happens primarily on
these specialist levels, as the rules that govern their
behavior will vary from zone to zone (as will their
adherence to it). It isn’t so much the agents fight-
ing each other as it is the agents having to cir-
cumvent local ground-level officers and investi-
gators who wouldn’t appreciate them tromping
around on their turf, interfering with ongoing
investigations. Surprisingly often, the IRPF keeps
its biggest secrets from itself.

Urgent Reminders
Urgent Reminders are official debt
collection agencies within the IRPF ranks who
serve to put pressure on corps or individu-
als who have borrowed money or property and have
failed to meet their ends of the deal. The bindings on
Character Snapshot: Esel Caldwell
Homeworld: Mars
Age: 25
Occupation: IRPF Officer
Micros are extreme minorities on the
street ranks of the IRPF, but Esel’s deter-
mination and tenacity has earned her
respect among her cohort. No small feat,
considering her aversion to body sockets.
On the up-side, she’s a master of stealth,
and her monthly food bill is pretty cheap.
Active Insurance Contractors
The IRPF offers an array of insurance against
theft and damage, but among their more interesting
services are Active Insurance contractors. These teams
are essentially mercenary groups hired on retainer
whose job is to actively investigate potential threats
to their client, accumulate enough evidence to prove
an immediate threat, and then strike preemptively,
eliminating said threat before it attacks. The amount
of necessary evidence to validate a preemptive strike
is pretty hefty, but how closely it’s examined is, as
with most things, dependent on the person reviewing.
Active Insurance contractors have gotten away with
more than they should in the past because they
sweet-talked the right auditors.

61
 Link-Dead Pilots
Link-dead pilots and operators are a novelty
that ebbs and flows throughout time depending
on the current trend of combat. Drones are univer-
sally considered to be the superior combat pilot
in modern warfare. Aside from not
needing to worry about the installa-
tion of complicated support systems
for a living pilot, you can also bypass
training, have a ship that can ma-
neuver far faster than an organic
CORPORATE RULE
late their trajectory and put 10,000 projectiles into a
meter of space exactly 2 inches ahead of where phys-
ics has determined they have to fly into. But through
electronic countermeasures and careful placement,
pilots can use drones as cover to let them get close
enough to whatever object is scrambling their own
forces and eliminate it.
Often, it’s another ship, which really helps prove a
pilot’s mettle.
Arbiters

body can manage without black- Arbiters are a bit like a lawyer, legislator, and
ing out, order suicidal attacks and a jurisdiction officer all in one. They use teams
engineer ships with unique designs of investigators to determine whether crimes fall
and fewer weak points due to de- under the jurisdiction of the IRPF or the corp, and
centralized processing. However, who should be determining guilt and punishment.
if cyberwarfare is trending They must be intimately familiar with the laws,
high, then running drones but also understand the subtext and unwritten
and AIs becomes very risky rules determining when the corp gets to move
in space, where they could in from the back and silence an issue. It’s a
be taken over and redi- nerve-wracking job. While most IRPF orga-
rected against defenseless nizations can fall back on the book to de-
carriers. fend their decisions, Arbiters write a lot
Link-deads are of it as they go, since the only times they
actual organic pilots
in spaceworthy fighter
craft with damn near
zero networking hard-
ware. They can’t connect
to Solnet, they can’t connect
to each other, and in many
situations they can’t even speak
via radio. They’re trained to
interpret each other’s needs
through ship behavior, context
clues, and sometimes even
visual hand signals. Their task
is to fly out with the drones
and eliminate whatever may
be interfering with them. It’s
dangerous work. Even the best
link-dead pilot is little match
for a well-programmed combat
drone that can instantly calcu-

Character Snapshot: Captain Gray

Homeworld: IRPF 023
Age: 26
Occupation: Inquisitor
Captain Gray was born with three strikes against
her: one was a name that mimicked her fashion
sense, two was a body that pigeonholed her into
specific roles in IRPF society, and three was a keen
and canny sense of law and justice that catapult-
ed her up the administrative ranks and landed her
in a position rarely held by people of her age and
morphism. Bias from her own IRPF cohort is forcing
her to seek allies to lend strength to her position

62 so she can actually do her job, and she worries she

may be opening doors to eventual corruption.
really get involved is when a situation’s jurisdictional
bounds are unclear. They’re bombarded by lobbying;
threats and influence; and constant pressure to move
quickly before cases get too old. The job pays well,
though, and offers amazing personal power. Arbiters
can determine where cases are tried and the severity
of said trial, which makes it a very tempting position to
abuse.

Inquisitors
The sheer volume of cases facing the IRPF

CORPORATE RULE
has forced a bit of streamlining in terms of response.
Inquisitors are specialist officers authorized to pass
summary judgment on lesser offenses based on “evi-
dence collected with reasonable diligence.” Typically,
their powers are limited to things like jail sentences of
less than a year, but different areas of Sol with differ-
ent levels of IRPF presence will extend greater power
to their Inquisitors. In addition, Inquisitors can stand in
for judges on larger cases when the judge is swamped,
indisposed, or otherwise absent. Their decisions are
automatically suspect to audit by an Arbiter after the
fact, but in situations where Inquisitor and Arbiter are
in cahoots with one another, rare though it may be,
“justice” can be expedited frighteningly quickly with
little to check it. To help curtail this, Inquisitors will ac-
tually police each other, and most regard each other
with a natural suspicion.

Adjutants
Adjutants are criminals on the IRPF payroll who
have been allowed to continue operating in an area
provided they stick to certain rules, such as tipping the
IRPF off to newcomers, maintaining a certain prod-
uct, and not committing acts of violence beyond a
set amount. By having a few large operators in their
pocket, the IRPF can avoid an escalation in an urban
center because they can dictate the majority rules of
engagement. It helps ensure that the next all points
bulletin that pops up will only be a few people with
rifles and bulletproof vests instead of six suits of active
armor and missile launchers. It is frighteningly simple
to mass produce formidable weaponry if you have the
right machines available, and the IRPF has found, over
the years, that if you allow some criminals to achieve
their goals with lesser means, they’re less prone to sud-
denly escalating their operations, and people looking
to get ahead of them likewise don’t need to deploy
city-block-leveling firepower to do so. Plus, a little ac-
tive crime makes the IRPF look necessary, which shows
up well when it comes to renegotiating their contract
with the host city. Then they just need to change colors
and product, and boom, it looks like one operation has
been shut down and a new one has shown up, further
necessitating the defense corp. A classic con, but if it
ain’t broke...

63
TTI
“Quit that,” Inno muttered. The smooth muscu-
lature around her flinched and calmed, but only par-
tially. Renn was on edge, and it wasn’t doing much for
Inno’s own mood. Poltergeist series armors, like all living
suits, had an array of sensory abilities that exceeded
their wearers. Inno had enough experience with Renn
to know when he was feeling something she couldn’t
see. But unless he had better than a vague feeling, the
apprehension was doing neither of them any good. It’s
not like she needed help being cautious, considering
the circumstances.
“Survivors, Inno?” Heneric’s tone gave him away,
even if the voice didn’t. Living armor could easily be
equipped with digital reception and speaker equip-
ment, but the Poltergeists functioned better without
them. Renn could hear the radio transmission fine on
his own, and whisper it into his operator’s brain. It
took some getting used to, but Inno had grown adept
at identifying her team from vocal cues and sentence
structure rather than the sound of their natural voice.
“Nothing,” she replied back.”No bodies yet, ei-
ther. It’s bad in here, though,” she added, slowly turning
about in zero gravity as she drifted through the hall,
“really bad.”
“Combat damage?” he asked. She shook her
head, despite there being no one around to see it.
“None I can see,” she said. “There’s damage,
there’s damage everywhere. But no scorch marks, no
bullets.” She reached out with Renn’s psyche and swam.
He knew what to do, following her will and propelling
her gently through the zero gravity drift. He wasn’t
frightened. She wasn’t sure if he could experience fear,
specifically. But he was apprehensive. He was seeking
something he expected to be there and wasn’t. She
wished she knew what it was.
“I’m beginning to side with Weis,” Inno said as
she rounded a corner. “This looks like psyche trauma.”
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions yet,” Hener-
ic replied quickly. “Get to the bridge and see what’s
awake.”
“Acknowledged,” she replied, but sighed off
the com. She knew why he was hesitating to commit
to that conclusion. Bioships had issues with their crew
from time to time, it had been known to happen, but
there was generally a catalyst. Attack, internal vio-
lence, sabotage, something traceable that could trig-
ger the ship to react. For a ship to spontaneously kill
its whole crew, and ultimately itself for lack of anything
to maintain it, represented a new and troubling wrinkle
in bioship behavior that could have lasting repercus-
sions were it to become public knowledge. It was a
rather unlikely event, on the drafting boards.
But it sure looked likely from in here.
The ship’s interior walls were torqued and
sagging. Organic tissue hung limply from behind the
resin-like surfaces that made the floors and consoles.
Standard wiring and electronics for basic ship systems
were exposed, not because of damage, but because
the normally taut structures that kept them in place
had given up their strength. The halls looked like they’d
dilapidated from neglect, but there was no indication
of anything damaging them specifically. She reached
out to one of the drifting ligaments that helped hold
the walls together, and her hand passed through it,
as though illusionary. She blinked and looked at the
appendage.
“Renn,” she said softly. The suit twitched again,
and when she reached out a second time, she was
able to grab the ship’s tendril. She held it for a mo-
ment before letting go, and starting up the hall toward
the bridge access elevator.
“Heneric,” Inna commed in.
“Receiving,” he replied.
“Renn is worried.”
“Geists spook easy,” Heneric responded. “It’s
probably picking it up off of you. Breathe. Calm your-
self. It will follow your mood.”
“I’m not a squire, Heneric,” she responded terse-
ly. “I know how to calm a suit. He’s worried. He phased
without orders. He doesn’t do that if he can identify a
threat he can physically overpower.”
There was a moment of silence over the com.
“Check for cuil bloom,” he responded. Inno
reached out through Renn’s senses and shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“That may be it,” Heneric replied. “There should
be something. Even a dead ship doesn’t die all at once.
The vitae should be keeping its flesh alive even if the
mind is gone.”
“That would cause bloom?” she asked, a bit
surprised. “Without anything accessing it?”
“The ships do a lot of that instinctively,” Heneric
explained. “A great deal of their processing isn’t linked
directly to their consciousness. There are hundreds
of sub-brains; some of them should still be working.
They’re actually designed to be too stupid to know
when the main brain has died.”
“I’ve never been in a dead one,” Inno said,
thankful for a degree of conversation. Knight training
included a great deal of instruction on how to function
through fear and apprehension, but none of it includ-
ed ignoring it or making it go away. TTI held fear in
fairly high regard, as emotions went. It would be easy
to eliminate it from their operatives entirely, but that
would be removing a valuable method of gathering
information. If anything, they were taught to refine it
to specific and chartable levels of terror, for proper
cataloging.
“Your suit has,” Heneric said. “It probably re-
members. Ships take a long time to go down complete-
ly,” he continued. “The main brain can go, or the hearts,
or any number of critical systems, but the flesh and
sub-brains will stay vital until the vitae de-energizes.
That’s quick if the ship’s actually been damaged and
is hemorrhaging into space, but this...we should still be
seeing reflex movement.”
“I’m at the door,” Inno interrupted, placing her
hand on it. It was solid, this time. Renn had composed
himself a bit, or had come to terms with the situation.
It was hard to tell; suits didn’t have the same range of
emotion or intelligence that people did. But piloting
living armor meant sharing its experience, and Inno
could feel its resolve now. “Heading inside.”
A bioship’s bridge was normally a beautiful ar-
ray of digital and organic components, with a massive
overhead dome of individual light points on tiny cilia
that painted pictures of the universe as perceived by
the ship’s eyes. In a healthy ship, the image was always
shifting, focusing on whatever the ship or pilot felt was
important, fluctuating between auras of perception
depending on how the vessel itself was watching. It
was like a perpetual lightshow, with occasional bouts
of personality as the ship flashed colors and patterns
to indicate certain needs.
The visual array was dark and obscured by
layers of bodies, standing perfectly straight, gazing
up at the ceiling in neat rows. Each crew member
stood in sequence, with another to the front, behind,
left and right, several layers deep, in a grid of corpses
that reached from the floor to the overarching ceiling
in a gradual taper, forming a spherical shape. Each
body was frozen solid from exposure to space, but
none showed signs of struggling. Blood that erupted
from open mouths or eyes during decompression had
splashed to the adjacent bodies and frozen mid-flight,
linking each corpse together in a mixed tapestry of
solid gore. The bodies themselves served as a sort of
cage, centralizing most of the spray inward, and the
red orb slowly rotated on the bridge, stable, held to-
gether by its internal lattice.
Inno felt detached as she watched, but could
feel her own mind retreating behind Renn’s. The suit
didn’t care about the bodies. It cared about the ship.
She let him guide her movements, and slowly drifted up
and around the gently rotating sphere of dead crew.
She looked up at the visual array, and let Renn bring
her to a halt.
“Inno, report,” came Heneric’s voice. Inno took
a moment to find her voice, and forced herself to look
away.
“Crew present and deceased,” she said. “Ship
deceased. Voluntary total shut down.”
“Voluntary?” Heneric shot back. “Why?”
Inno looked back up at the visual array. The
light-emitting cilia were all dark. There was no move-
ment to speak of, no activity. But a final ghostly image
was burned into it like an ancient television stuck on
one screen for too long. A long, snake-like loop, coiling
in and around on itself, with barely visible afterimages
of milky white spheres along its coils and bent stalks of
image emitters like carpet pushed out of place, indi-
cating feverish motion. The glyph. Its glyph. The scar of
Hydra.
“Self-preservation,” Inno replied softly.
LIFE WITHIN
TTI attaches a lot of their culture to their lo-
cation, which is a little unusual for modern megacorps.
Aside from MarsCo, most corps consider “home” to be
the corporate identity itself, and as long as you’re in
it, your physical location is fairly unimportant. MarsCo
holds a degree of reverence for Mars itself and owns
the oldest and most historically important buildings
there, which gives them a bit more of a planetary as-
sociation, but it’s TTI who puts the most active influence
on actual location vs. behavior. Specifically, they own
Europa, almost unilaterally, and are a peerless pres-
ence there.
Outside of Europa, TTI corptowns are unique
in schooling and architecture, but mostly come off
as MarsCo towns with more curves and fewer boxes.
Research and development buildings for TTI’s more
“quirky” technology exist all over Sol, but as a rule, the
big stuff, the stuff they keep from everyone, is central-
ized where they have the highest degree of control.
At least, that’s what the public is told. It’s true, mostly,
but TTI does spread its assets secretly like most large
organizations, in case of catastrophe.
As you get nearer to Europa, the more trade-
mark TTI staples begin to appear. Buildings with
porous, organic shapes, clean environments with eerie,
asymmetrical designs, and in fully TTI controlled areas,
a prevalence of bioprobes. The term “bioprobe” is a
generic catch-all for any artificially generated or-
ganism that isn’t a Vector (or Vector template, like a
Blip). They’re not all enormous, destructive, or troubling
creatures. In fact, a great deal of TTI’s pocket change
comes from the sale of rather adorable ones. Howev-
er, as you enter fully TTI-controlled areas, you’ll begin
to see more specialized organisms that function as a
part of the city’s infrastructure. Maintenance organisms,
builders, and even street art organisms whose primary
purpose is just to make the place look nicer. None of
these are transcendent in nature; they’re just showcas-
ing TTI’s other primary selling point: the creation and
integration of custom life.
TTI towns are good spots for the quintessential
“mad scientist” plot, mostly because of a prevalence of
bioconstruction technology. Pulse and TTI both do a lot
of genetic modification, but Pulse primarily focuses on
the advancement and change of Vectors on an indi-
vidual level. TTI is more angled toward the creation of
new life and pushing the boundaries of what organ-
ic matter can do in general. Most of the things they
explore, if applied to Vectors, would be a drastically
larger mutation than what Pulse typically sells (and
a fair bit more squickish). Both industries have had
several partner projects in the past, however, and are
on reasonable terms with each other. Many TTI profes-
sionals who deal in the management of living machines
will have some degree of Pulse-developed augmenta-
tion to help them out. Unlike Pulse, however, TTI bears
no ill-will toward ASR or mechanical augmentation.
A tool is a tool, as far as they’re concerned.
Whichever flavor helps you perform better is the
better option.
RUMORS AND CONJECTURE
Lost Ships
Space is a quiet and empty place in most
situations, especially if you get off the beaten path
a bit. Ships that are under power tend to be easy
CORPORATE RULE
to track, so there’s not much risk of being snuck up
on. But ever since TTI’s bioships took to the stars
there have been rumors of chance encounters with
ships that didn’t respond to hails, behaved errati-
cally, or seemed to be traveling toward destinations
that wouldn’t contain any listed settlement. Some
have even rumored violence, or the perceived feel-
ing of it. TTI denied these claims for years until a
more public event forced them to reveal that some
of their bioprobes had, at one point or another, “run
off,” and were now rather difficult to locate. The
numbers they provided are much smaller than the
number of sightings reported, which TTI attributes
to false reports.
The tricky part here has been pinning down
whether the escape was genuine or engineered.
This occurred during the early days of living deep-
space technology, but the organisms appear to
have endured to the modern era and silhouette photos
have shown them being accompanied by some of TTI’s
newer models. Possibly even associating with them. It
has even been put forth that the family isn’t so much
a random collection as a breeding system for the
creation of new biotechnology through some sort of
divergent, genuine mutation, and that TTI examines the
new products to help supplement its own fleets.
Aliens
By the time humanity ended its tenure on Earth,
most of its members, to at least a casual degree,
believed in the possibility (if not the certainty) of alien
life among the stars. Publicly, there was no smoking gun
attached to that belief. Plenty of potential, certainly.
Evidence of previous life on Mars, scientific models de-
picting the potential for life to persist in environments
previously thought incompatible with it, but nothing in
a big rotating saucer had landed on the White House
lawn. It was more a permeating thought, wherein all
the other scientific advancements and discoveries
of the time had brought what was once an impossi-
ble idea into the realm of possibility, if not outright
likelihood. Unbeknownst to the majority of
the planet, there were some individuals in projects that
would echo their consequences across Sol for centu-
ries after the species died who possessed actu-
al proof of extraterrestrial intelligence, but
for the sake of this example, it’s the larger,
public impression that matters. Specifically,
67
 because Vectors, devoid of much of the social
history that had colored humanity’s view of the
stars, were even more willing to accept the idea
of alien life than humans were. Just like humans,
though, they have a very hard time attaching things
like “intelligent” and “sapient” to creatures that
don’t behave, react, or interpret things like they do.
Which is why most of Sol will still, to this day, say
that Vector-kind has not encountered intelligent
alien life, when they not only have, they’ve had it
living with them for generations.
CORPORATE RULE
Europa’s unique environment had always held
the potential for a living ecosystem, but it had many
problems to deal with in order to make that po-
tential a reality. Nevertheless, the geneticists at TTI
were confident creatures could be made to live in
Europa’s undersea climate, if only temporarily. What
would be helpful, invaluable really, was having some
sort of example of what a creature that naturally
lived there was made of. A fossil, or sample. And
so, before the orca bioprobes and the first Europa
colony, before Venus was terraformed, and while
TTI was still reasonably small on the radar, the first
actual Vector-manned expedition to Europa was
formed and launched. Purely to visit, purely to ex-
plore, in search of life and discovery. It was one of
the more genuinely enriching endeavors of that par-
ticular period; considerable expense and difficulty
risked purely for the sake of learning something
new about a place. Probably why it didn’t get much
press.
Typically, the best place to look for an under-
sea fossil is on, or under, the seafloor. Europa’s un-
dersea floor extends deeper down than even modern
Vector equipment can reach, let alone the equipment
of the day, which was going to prove problematic for
comprehensive searches. But the moon’s icy surface
regularly recycles itself, moving ice from the bottom
to the top and down again as it melts and thaws, and
venting water upward through cracks. Over the course
of its billions of years of history, it was possible, even
likely, that organic matter may have found its way
closer to the surface. Neutral buoyancy ice floating just
below the surface ice was also a source of hope. The
whole thing was a long shot, but that was the nature
of the expedition. This was a fairly novel concept for
Vectors of the time; they’d never had this sort of explo-
ration and discovery experience on Mars. TTI tapped
funding through other biotech companies with the
promise to share the fossil data if any were discovered
(they’d later end up acquiring those same companies
when MarsCo flushed them with funds during the
Venus terraform) and launched their expedition, begin-
ning a process that would shape the future of Sol.
They got more than they bargained for. Noth-
ing living, which was a disappointment on its own (they
had rather hoped to at least find a thriving
microorganism climate) but a rich collection
of extremely complex preserved evidence.
68 The ice was practically saturated with it. Not
frozen bodies in any visible condition, but a wealth of
preserved genetics, sifted through the Europa arctic
blender for who knows how long. Beautiful biology,
alien and unique, barely fitting in with established
models. Vastly more complex lifeforms than were orig-
inally suspected to be, or have ever been, living there.
It was a perfect catch. One, it constituted what they
had gone there to find, and two (perhaps even better),
it was visually unimpressive. There was nothing wiggly
to put up on a screen and nothing living to bring home,
so when the media asked, TTI simply said “we found
certain evidence of previous life,” which was worth a
few news spots, some light press, a lot of fun supposi-
tion and angel investing, and that was about it. TTI was
left alone with its partner firms to disassemble the new
organic information and figure out what it was, how it
worked, and how they could use it.
Even with TTI’s bioconstruction and examination
technology (which, granted, was a bit less advanced
centuries ago) the new genomes took months to parse.
The new species redefined what was considered to be
organically possible by the standards of the day, to an
almost troubling degree. Within these genes was the
ability to create organisms that never needed food,
that could breathe without air, that could adapt to
vastly different pressures without any of the usual side
effects, and a host of other amazing abilities thought
impossible before purely because there was no existing
example of it working. The only issue now was putting
the new knowledge into practice and getting the pub-
lic behind it.
The companies serving as TTI’s backer pool at
this stage were very happy with the progress of their
investments. The gamble had paid off, and there was
now an extremely valuable new avenue of advance-
ment available. Sort of. It certainly looked like it, in
terms of the amazing abilities to be tapped, but at the
time there wasn’t much of a market for any of them.
“Bioprobe” wasn’t even a word in common vernacular
yet, and the custom pet market, while certainly large,
typically didn’t include breeds that thrived in environ-
ments where their owners couldn’t join them. Hybrid-
ization was a thought, using hemi techniques to impart
Vectors with some of the amazing qualities they’d
discovered how to make, possibly as a way to compete
with the terraforming industry, but it was very unlikely
to take off in the quantities it would need to. It would
require massive changes to the species as a whole,
and Vectors, perhaps as a remnant of their human
side, were unwilling to do that on a species-wide scale
even to fix genuine oversights like the snake lateral
issue. TTI had plans of their own, however, fueled by
secret knowledge of the artifact below Europa’s sur-
face and agendas long hidden away, and found a new
way to leverage their discovery.
TTI’s representatives first approached MarsCo
with a potential solution for the Venus press problem
shortly after the first trepidatious reports of monocel-
lular life on Venus were floating back home. The Venus
terraform was a technology show and a rallying point
for many different corps, mega and otherwise, to show
how far Vector-kind had come since the fall of hu-
manity. It was an enormous undertaking and required
tremendous cooperation to make happen, and its
linchpin was the positivity and progress it represented.
It spoke to an entire species that they had surpassed
their predecessors, and could continue indefinitely on
their own. The last thing it needed were overtones of
genocide that mirrored, to a lesser degree, the ends
and behaviors of humanity.
TTI proposed a new spotlight for the camer-
as to focus on: further progress and expansion, using
additional new science and technology. The idea of
colonizing Europa wasn’t new, nor was it particular-
ly appealing when the much closer, larger and more
versatile planet of Venus was soon to be habitable,
but TTI boasted designs for a new sort of spaceworthy
craft, a living one, capable of not only living on Europa
with no support, but also probing its deepest depths
and reporting home. Organic technology that sur-
passed mechanical probes with the same functions. The
media could have a circus with it, the ins and outs, the
pros and cons, the moral issues (if any existed; after all,
Vectors were originally artificial too), and the Venus
project could push through the messy portions of its
beginning and regain public attention once it was past
the point of no return. In essence, TTI would bear the
heat for a while with a much larger, much more visible,
and frankly, much more interesting biologic than a few
microscopic remnants that may or may not be float-
ing in Venus’s atmosphere, and let MarsCo get some
work done. It’s the sort of thing MarsCo would have
done itself, and was probably going to, except that
TTI already existed, wouldn’t be suspected, and, well,
genuinely had the product they were boasting. Which,
in and of itself, made them a potentially interesting
future business partner.
TTI received their funding, and the previously
rather silent, fairly unknown corp that had done most
of its business behind closed doors suddenly bloomed
in the public eye. They debuted the orca bioprobe
(coining a term that would persist for centuries af-
terward and effectively building their own market for
their new product), were able to buy out and absorb
their original backers (who were nowhere on the scale
of the change Mars was tossing their way to absorb
the media for a while), and began the vastly more
public second expedition to Europa, claiming it as a
followup search for still-living organisms based on
the “substantial evidence” their manned search had
collected, and captivating the public’s interest with
the potential thrill of seeing an actual alien creature
swimming around rather than a cell or two. Even if the
mission failed, the orca probes themselves were akin to
modern sci-fi and were fun and fascinating enough to
dominate the exo-life spotlight more than unsubstanti-
ated rumors of Venusian monocellular life.
Bioprobe technology got its first extensive
public testing live with the Europa scout orcas, and
would receive a tremendous boon shortly after Europa
colony’s arrival and the successful implementa-
tion of Vitae into the TTI line. To this day, the
public line is that Vitae is what allows bioships
and bioprobes to endure space, with their actual
designs being less critical, but there’s a reason TTI
remains the largest manufacturer of extreme envi-
ronment lifeforms: their access to the alien genomes
on Europa gave them tools others don’t have. The
orca probes were the first of these alien hybrids,
and many more variants have been made since.
“Family Original, Europa” was the designa-
tion attached to the lifeform eventually discerned
CORPORATE RULE
by TTI’s scientists from the mash of genes they’d
sifted from the ice. They called it “Foea” for short,
and were amazed as they slowly uncovered its
properties. The Foea appeared to make up most,
if not all, of the dominant predators of Europa’s
once-rich environment. The single race had differ-
ent strains and adaptations, but they all stemmed
from a common family and existed symbiotically
with one another, from the smallest to the largest
level. Foea didn’t eat; they appeared to be able to
absorb radiant energy and secrete chemical ener-
gy. They didn’t sleep; they could grant their bodies
autonomous control with sub-brains while resting
parts in sequence, entering lower activity, but still
conscious, states here and there throughout the day.
They didn’t breathe; their interior ecosystems could
use the byproducts of their energy consumption
almost like electricity, providing power and mediums
for chemical exchange. The entire species appeared
to function a bit like living batteries, powered by their
massive neighboring world of Jupiter. TTI suspected
they were even capable of forms of telepathy and
energy manipulation.
But there was a problem in their design that
frustrated the biologists working on the simulated
models. Based on the mockups, Family O seemed to be
powered by absorption and conversion of some sort
of radiant energy. It was likely radiation, which was
produced in abundance by the neighboring gas giant
and could conceivably fuel the entire species. But they
lived, as far as anyone could tell, underwater. Europa’s
ice sheet was some 16 kilometers thick, and Jupiter’s
radiation couldn’t get through the first meter of it, let
alone to the water within. Unless the Foea transitioned
periodically to the surface through miles of shifting
ice to eat, only to return to the depths afterward, the
model didn’t make much sense. Stranger migrations
do happen, and it was difficult to determine how
long each “meal” could keep the organism running. So
it might be a practical model, but determining those
factors was beyond what simple data could provide.
Observation would be necessary to truly understand,
and that required living specimens.
69
 The resurrection of extinct species is, generally
speaking, a lighter issue among Vectors than it
is among humans. “Extinction” on the whole has a
different connotation in general. Vectors have never
had to deal with wildlife extinction. Everything that
has ever lived in Vector society was originally con-
structed. The plants, the animals, themselves, they’re
all artificial. If for whatever reason one was to stop
existing, there would be very little problem return-
ing it to being based on the original blueprints. In
fact, it happens regularly in custom biomes like the
CORPORATE RULE
one Venus has. Species will be hunted to the point
of nonexistence for sport, then generated again
in the offseason to repopulate. Many of them are
designed specifically for that purpose. But like most
issues of morality, these decisions are rarely binary.
The topic of resurrection is treated with levity when
it results in returning something to its status quo
after it has been unbalanced by some sort of event.
Like humans collecting the DNA of endangered
species in “frozen zoos,” returning cloned tigers or
bears to the wild because they were killed through
negligence is a clear and simple issue. But bringing
something back that was gone long before us, or
whose existence would upset the new normal, be-
comes much more complicated. After all, it’s not like
it’s difficult for a Vector to clone up a new start to
humanity. But they haven’t.
For Vectors, the issue is one of entitlement.
On more than one occasion, Vector-kind has intro-
duced, and learned to coexist with, new life forms of
comparable intelligence to Sol . Cogs are the most
noteworthy example. But in those cases, it was Vectors
who were the “origin,” the ushers for the newcomers to
Sol. That gave them the ability to determine how much
they were willing to compromise, how much they were
70
willing to give up. Equality is largely a comparison of
conditions now to things past, and it’s easier to get
someone to swallow what they’re given if they’ve never
seen someone be dissatisfied with being given the
same thing. Mice were an example of dissatisfaction,
and getting them into a position of equality with other
Vectors was a taxing and violent business, despite hav-
ing the advantages of actually looking the part. When
the potential benefits and risks of resurrecting human-
ity in Vector-owned space are weighed against each
other, there’s really no contest.
But when you’re dealing with a race of presum-
ably limited needs and demands, like Family O, which
(based on simulations from their genes) appeared
to be an advanced but not specifically sapient form
of life, it’s less about coexistence and more about
exploitation, which Vectors are rather keen on as a
whole. The genes alone were already a fortune in new
ideas, but observations of the creatures’ behavior in
real time could provide even better data, or hints on
how to better use Europa, or give some indication as
to why the species, and indeed all life on the moon,
went extinct. There were a lot of reasons to push
forward with the resurrection. The only thing really
standing in the way was the unknown extent of Foea
intelligence. The design of the brains was sufficiently
alien enough to make it impossible to judge for sure
what would come out when the creatures emerged.
Ultimately, most (if not all) things in Sol come
down to ownership, and TTI, by creating the first Eu-
ropa colony, had a pretty solid claim to most of the
moon. Megacorps tend to build sunward; there isn’t a
lot to of reason to drift too far out. Jupiter’s general
vicinity holds allure because of an abundance of po-
tential resources and, well, places to stand, but at the
time large-scale expeditions to climates like Europa
didn’t pay out what they cost to put on unless the des-
tination itself was inherently valuable. Europa wasn’t,
so there wasn’t much competition for the real estate.
TTI’s initial investment put them in control of a sizable
area, and if they wanted to turn it into a theme park,
that was their prerogative. And that was the eventual
justification for the resurrection of the Foea and the
other once-native lifeforms of Europa: research and
entertainment. A modern day Jurassic Park (though it
was unlikely they knew the reference), offering sights
that couldn’t be seen anywhere
else in Sol, and a unique en-

CORPORATE RULE
vironment worth visiting. And
it worked, too. TTI succeeded
in turning what was es-
sentially a blank slate to
anyone beyond researchers
into a unique and captivating
travel destination, which provid-
ed significant capital for them
as time went on.
By public recollection,
that is more or less how this story
ended. The Foea are a significant
population of Europa’s mostly
alien underwater ecosystem now,
and are fierce predators and a
great thrill to see when you
visit. They’ve contributed
heavily to TTI’s biocon-
struction templates, are
cunning and interesting,
come in a variety of shapes
and sizes, but are not akin
to Vector intelligence. This
counts as proof enough of
alien life that most people
can consider themselves
smugly superior to them,
and by proxy, feel a little
more confidence in their
position in the universe. It
legitimizes the superiority
narrative Vector society innate-
ly embodies, which serves the
other megacorps pretty well, so
they appreciate TTI fronting the
cost for it. The Foea are violent
and dangerous to submersibles, but that’s TTI’s lookout,
and they’re typically not considered a large enough
threat to dissuade cruises through the other pockets
of wildlife. It adds a little risk, and a little thrill, to the
whole experience. Privately, however, the Foea exist
for a different reason.

The Nature of the Foea

The Foea family has a large span of body types
ranging in size from under a meter to larger than a
battleship, with the larger breeds embodying the Eu-
71
CORPORATE RULE
ropan “sea monster” more
often in the common eye
than Orcas do. Primarily be-
cause Orcas are so seldom seen,
and large Foea, while not omni-
present, are more common and eas-
ier to find. Media has mislabeled
them on occasion, which hasn’t helped with the
disambiguation. Regardless, your chances of being
attacked by a large water-based predator while in
a submarine on Europa are fairly small unless you’re
out away from the domes, at which point it’s more
likely to be a large Foea than anything else. Orcas
pick their targets carefully and are much more thor-
ough about their attacks. There usually isn’t much
left to show when they’re done.
Foea species are characterized primarily by
long bodies, scythe-like appendages, and power-
ful tentacles with shark-like mouths at the end. Foea
don’t eat in a conventional sense, so their “mouths” do
not have throats, nor do they lead to any particularly
fragile interior. They’re reinforced muscle and intended
to be roughed around, serving no purpose beyond at-
tack and defense. One of the long-standing questions
about the Foea race is their advanced adaptations for
the purposes of combat when they have no resource
to really compete over. It’s been theorized that back
when the race actually existed naturally on Europa,
thermal or territorial pressure by some other unknown
factor had forced the entire family into a smaller area,
breeding competition for space and species superiority
that ultimately led to its own self-destruction. It’s one
of many theories, equally difficult to prove without a
time machine. At present, while Europa’s ecosystem has
been restored on a limited scale, it’s nothing compared
to what TTI’s research claims it once was, so there’s
very little provoking the Foea to attack anything aside
from self-defense, or outright maliciousness. They have
more of the latter than they’re publicly credited for.
Foea are smart, but the level of that intelli-
gence varies from species to species. They possess a
language, but it’s transmitted through inaudible brain
impulses so it’s less inherently recognizable than the
clicks and whistles of a dolphin’s language. Some have
problem-solving skills that vastly exceed those
of the dolphins and octopi they’re often com-
72
pared to in public educational videos. They’re
capable of working out situations many steps
in advance and coordinating among different species
in their own families, and TTI believes some breeds can
actually read, possibly write, and even have mechanical
understandings of the Vector-made structures in their
territory. These higher-level thinkers have been seen
acting as taskmasters for the more primitive species of
Foea, and have coordinated their efforts to accomplish
surprising feats such as planned ambushes on submers-
ibles, the creation of traps in the ice, and decoy tech-
niques to bait activity where they want it. The last bit
is among the most dangerous. TTI now has a standing
order not to pursue these particular Foea species, as
they have on multiple occasions approached populated
areas and made what appear to be genuine attempts
to communicate, only to summon up maws from the
deep once research submersibles deploy to meet them.
Fishing is all about using the right bait, and they have
apparently discovered that the lure of communication
is a pretty good one for catching Vectors.
The question then remains: why bother attack-
ing at all? According to TTI’s public information on the
race, it’s a territory thing. Foea possess the means to
sense and project brainwaves to uncertain degrees,
and it’s likely the Vector population of Europa makes a
lot of “thought noise.” They probably don’t understand
our thoughts, but can’t help but hear them, so they at-
tack because it sounds alien and aggressive and, well,
annoying. So TTI creates gates and observation posts
and warns people when the Foea seem active, and
profits off them as a unique alien encounter experi-
ence with a fairly low threat of attack as long as you
don’t go too far away from society.
The question of food got explained as well.
As it turned out, many Foea species do actually make
the upward migration to the surface and back down
again, presumably to feed off Jupiter’s radiation, and
are subsequently attacked and absorbed by other spe-
cies down below the ice, which satisfied that mystery
and proved the potential for making complex lifeforms
that could actually survive in space. They’re pretty
unique in that function. The other lifeforms that have

been resurrected to supplement Europa’s ecosystem
use chemical reactants to create oxygen and function
a bit like adapted Earth creatures for most of their
organic needs. So the Foea continue to baffle, both for
their atypical adaptations and for what they may have
meant for Europa’s past.
The Foea story reaches deeper than the public
message. TTI guards its true nature as much as they
guard all their secrets, both through fear of how they
might reflect on their own company, and for fear of
what may happen if someone exposed them to the
wrong stimulus in hope of a reaction. While it is pos-
sible for most savvy employees to dig deep enough
into the Foea history to gain this much information,
TTI guards the second half extremely well, as it travels
hand in hand with secrets that could lead the compa-
ny, if not all of Sol, to ruin.
Bio-constructed Navy
TTI’s military might is a difficult thing to quanti-
fy, because the overall power of their creations doesn’t
conform to established norms. According to the IRPF
general reports and most of the stuff that comes out
of Mars’s assessments, TTI’s overall military presence
is pretty small. They have a standing fleet of MarsCo
ships for dealing with most of their work, and a small-
er fleet of living ships with varying degrees of known
ability. The latter poses the larger problem. Many
classically trained strategists don’t see much value in
TTI’s living vessels as military tools. They maintain them-
selves well, which certainly makes them cost-effective
on long missions, but the whole idea behind building
an armored shell is to protect the soft material inside
it. Making your armor out of flesh is inherently weaker
than using metal. Point for point, it’s going to sustain
more damage from incoming firepower than a harder
material would. At least in theory.
And the theory does seem to hold up in most
cases. TTI’s bioships don’t often engage in open com-
bat, but it’s happened, and they tend to look pret-
ty beat up by the time it’s over. They appear to be
awfully difficult to kill off completely, but their efficacy
drops as they sustain more damage. It’s a difficult thing
to map because there are few mechanical analogs to
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compare the damage to. It’s hard to say if some-
thing’s drive is damaged when most of the solar
system isn’t even sure how it moves to begin with.
The worry in place here is that TTI’s bio-con-
structed creatures may be significantly more pow-
erful than they’ve really let on, and that Sol is being
baited into a false sense of security by posing the
ships as novelties when they are, in fact, significant-
ly more threatening. It stems from the discrepancies
in conflict reports coming from TTI-related entities.
Bioships are occasionally destroyed with no more,
perhaps less, effort than any normal ship in their
class. And yet, the orca bioprobes continue to lurk
under Europa’s surface and repel any attempts
to remove them. Likewise in space, for every story of
a bioship sent limping home, there are half a dozen
stories of silent monsters in the stars that reduce small
fleets to rubble with casual disregard.
Character Concept: Tour Guide
Being an owner/operator of submersiv-
al vehicals on Europa can lead to some
pretty nerve-wracking moments, de-
pending on where you go and how much
attention you draw to yourself as you get
there. Thrill seekers may even try flirting
with the more dangerous lifeforms for
the rush of escaping them. Not something
you really want to o with people onboard
your tug, but its a good hook for why you
might seek further adventure beyond your
day job.
TTI’s bioships are, in fact, vastly more powerful than
they appear, and they appear pretty powerful in most
situations. But their true strengths come from deeply
protected transcendent secrets and alien genetics, and
TTI is cautious about making too many of them, lest
they lose control over their creations.
73
Veins
TTI cities have unique utility
infrastructures that include actu-
al “veins” of nutrient material for
buildings and bio-utility creatures.
Veins are special canals made of
Bonewerk, and snake through the
undergrounds of TTI cities, transfer-
ring nutrients around and cleansing
tainted material to keep the build-
ings healthy. While it is technically
possible to poison this “blood” supply,
it would be tremendously difficult to
pull off. The vein system is self-clean-
ing, and anything that managed to
get through it would still have to
deal with a building’s own cleansing
systems and maintain enough poten-
cy to kill a creature the size of, well,
a building. This vulnerability is often
used against TTI by its competitors
in PR campaigns, but the number of
buildings that have died from blood
poisoning in actual history is vastly
smaller than those that have simply
been bombed into rubble.
Veins are generally unseen
and unnoticed in day-to-day activity,
but now and again something will
happen that brings them into view
and reminds the public of the strange
nature of their environment. If some-
thing, such as an attack or explosion,
exposes a large portion of the vein
network and causes it to hemorrhage,
all nearby bio-utility creatures will
abandon their posts to stand guard
around the wound until it can be
patched. It’s the only time you really
see bio-utilities act with any degree
of potential aggression, and it can
be unnerving to take active note of
just how many of them there are,
and how physically powerful they can
conceivably be.
Bonewerk
Many TTI structures are
grown. That’s not always as squick-
ish as it sounds (though it can be,
depending on the rush on the job
or what’s being built). Typical-
ly, a pre-generated blueprint for
a building is grown with a sort of
bone-composite that emerges a bit
like a crystal out of a sea of miner-
als to form an elegant and tree-like
structure from the ground. These stat-
ic buildings actually root into mineral
network lines as part of their infra-
structure, which keeps them healthy
and allows them to grow into other
structures if the design needs adap-
tation. It’s actually possible to poison
these buildings (though they’re very
robust; it takes very unique chemicals
to pull it off). Structurally, there are
numerous advantages to Bonewerk
construction. They’re not susceptible
to the usually de-rez weaknesses of
printed structures, nor do they re-
quire large crews to construct. They
can also be reformed and changed in
shape without having to worry about
structural weakness, because the
structure itself can be reengineered
into different shapes without remov-
ing it. It’s very strong, flexible, and
insulates nicely. However, despite its
benefits, it’s a less practical and effi-
cient product than standard building
materials.
Building Bonewerk requires
special training and education that
far exceeds that which is required
for conventional construction, and the
product itself uses more resources
and needs a specific nutrient infra-
structure to grow. The buildings are
“alive,” but they’re not active or mov-
ing on their own, nor are they carniv-
orous, intelligent, or in possession of
any particular instinct. It’s a bit like
living inside of a tree, only bigger
and smoother. They’re ultimately a TTI
showcase item more than a potential
replacement to the way Sol builds.
Plus, if you damage the walls enough,
they tend to bleed, which can be a
little creepy.
Bioprobes
TTI cities have a massive pop-
ulation of organic utility creatures
engineered to do things generally
reserved for machines. Things like
cleaning the streets, or lighting path-
ways, or even building maintenance.
These creatures aren’t particularly
“intelligent,” but they have hard-
wired instincts that lock them to their
jobs, and the creativity to adapt as
needs change. Unique creatures form
streetlamps for walking at night and
will actually walk alongside you if
there’s no one else around to light
for, looking out for potential hazards
or lurking threats. Large Bonewerk
buildings have creatures living inside
the walls that maintain the building
faster than it can maintain itself, con-
necting wires and repairing damage.
Construction creatures can move
heavy objects with great dexterity
and follow hand and pheromone sig-
nals by trained users. Some can even
wear roads and launch platforms on
their backs to make spontaneous tra-
versal planes if one is needed. A true
TTI city is awash with strange and
alien life that serves and supplements
its population.
While these creatures are
about as benign and innocent as a
living thing can be, their presence
has led to interesting mental issues
in the past. TTI corptowns have the
highest level of xenophagophobia
in Sol (in this case, a specific fear
of being swallowed whole by some-
thing unknown or alien), centralized
on Europa in most cases. Europa has
always had a reputation for supersti-
tion, but their unique living conditions
probably don’t help matters. The
Spear of Heaven, on top of being the
largest Vector-built structure in Sol, is
also the largest living creature in Sol
(the jury is still out on whether Whis-
perwerk counts as “alive”). Its walls
are teeming with creatures, maintain-
ing it, keeping it moored, and assess-
ing damage. Maintenance personnel
swap stories of accidental equip-
ment collisions with walls, only to see
dozens of eyes peeking through the
cracks, and the dent slowly being
pushed back from within and sealing
the scuttling noises away. For some,
the sheer knowledge of what they’re
inside of prevents them from being
able to sleep, for fear that their own
room may eat them alive. It’s never
(officially) happened in a Bonewerk
building. Living ships, however, cannot
make the same claim.
Discovery
TTI isn’t really known as an
entertainment corporation. Transcen-
dent implants are a novelty generally
billed as a utility for people to em-
ploy to their own enjoyment, but on
the whole, the company doesn’t offer
much in the way of games. However,
discovery has always been a running
theme for them, and one of the ways
they attract people to their cities is
by integrating discovery into their
lifestyle. This is typically done through
the use of inactive bio-utilites scat-
tered around the city, waiting to be
found and awakened.
When TTI creates a new
bio-utility creature for the public, it
usually won’t just put it into service.
It will put it somewhere in the city
and inform the public that it’s out
there waiting to be found. Civilians
will then go out and explore, looking
high and low until they can find the
creature and wake it up. It will then
go about its business, and the ones
who found it will be awarded with
some public accolade. This process
isn’t always for utility creatures. TTI
will sometimes create pets or dupli-
cate lifeforms from the “cuter” parts
of their utility lines and scatter them
about the city for people to find
and trade. Utility creatures live off
the cities nutrient infrastructure, so
they’re very easy to maintain, and
they can’t be bought in stores. It’s
generally a source of great excite-
ment for a child when they track
down an inactive lamper or some
other unique critter and can claim it
as their own.
 AGENTS
Not everyone working for TTI knows the depths
of their secrets or the nature of their technologies,
but the mentalities that accompany such things
are taught to most TTI corptown residents from
an early age. It results in pretty substantial culture
shock when leaving a TTI town for the first time (or
entering one, for that matter), but TTI has kept it
up for long enough that it has become accepted
as part of their “corporate culture,” despite looking
CORPORATE RULE

to the outside observer like dogma or superstition.

From a civilian level, that’s pretty much what it is,
but if one gets to the levels within the corp that
touch upon more esoteric influences, they
begin to see the truth within the teach-
ings. This results in both loyalty and the
abstraction in thought that is necessary
for what amounts to “safe” handling of
transcendent material, and means that
those people who will need it most
are the ones who embraced it most
to begin with. To TTI, this is a far
more important result than looking a
little weird to the rest of the solar
system.
At the core of all TTI scientific principles is the
absolute assertion that nothing is “fact” so much as
it is a result of current situational variables. This in
and of itself isn’t all that different from the way scien-
tific principals are taught anywhere, but TTI weighs on
it heavily, dismissing even the most commonly accepted
concepts of core mathematics as purely being the re-
sult of the current condition of this particular universe,
rather than reliable constants. The resulting mentality
is that of a person who looks at “science” a bit more
like “art,” in the sense that the things they create are
repeatable, but only because certain uncontrollable
muses have had a hand in tipping things in their favor.
The rest of the solar system tends to look at their
attitude a bit more like religion or superstition, but TTI
doesn’t apply either term to their own outlooks.
These methods have weighed heavily on the
TTI career education system and the resulting names

Character snapshot: Temmrie Lel’nstahal

Homeworld: Venus
Age: 54
Occupation: Material Navigator
Temmrie has passed up Artificer posi-
tions multiple times despite possessing
considerable qualifications. To him, there
is a greater fulfillment in the material
than the product made with it. While an
Artificer may make a useful object for
Vector-kind, they do so at the cost of the
purity of the source. He prefers the raw,
76 original stock.
associated with it, which all have a sense of greater
grandeur than similar positions would be given in other
corps. In fairness, the results do tend to be equally
grand when this company is involved. Not everyone has
a title like this following their name, but those in high
ranks or directly attached to TTI internal affairs gen-
erally do, and the culture that stems from it has lead
other people to make up their own as sort of personal
assertions of their own behavior. You’ll occasionally
see titles like “daydreamer” or “isolationist” following
civilian names around. They’re self-appointed and non-
official, but a few of them are culturally recognized.
However, the following titles are official designations
in the TTI hierarchy.
Architects
Architects refer to people in the bioconstruc-
tion field, namely the physical side of it. Bone archi-
tects specialize in superstructure and frameworks for
bioships, buildings, probes, and all manner of other
grown entities. Marrowers work with Bone architects
to develop the nerves and connective systems for con-
structs, and work more with software than the physical
objects. Flesh architects build muscles, skin, and internal
organs to allow a construct to operate in its intend-
ed environment based on what it was designed for.
They work with Seers, whose job it is to design sensory
organs that will provide the necessary information to
the construct to allow it to exist as it was designed to.
All of them work with the Soul architect, who builds
the personality that drives the construct, including its
instincts and metabolic programming so that it grows
the way it’s intended to. They typically head the proj-
ect, as their design will dictate the tasks of the other
architects.
Navigators
Navigators are keepers of knowledge, or, more
specifically, the keepers of the routes to acquiring the
current state of the conditions of the universe which,
in turn, can be used as constants for the application
of localized reason. It’s a long conditional statement,
but it embodies the true difficulty of a Navigators job:
understanding that what they observe is not necessar-
ily safe to judge by means of things they’ve observed
before. To the rest of Sol, these jobs relate to research
and development and, to a lesser degree, public rela-
tions, but within TTI they play other roles as well.
Umbral navigators are tasked with the role of
charting pathways for safe near-cuil diving. They work
alongside Divers, who do the majority of the actual
near-cuil exploration and bring the data home for
Umbral navigators to sort and examine. All Umbral
navigators were once Divers themselves, so they tend
to double as guides and role models for the Divers
working with them. Transitioning to the Umbral navi-
gator role is a “promotion,” but it’s also a retirement,
and typically comes because the person involved has
become unfit to dive due to some event or another.
It is the Umbral’s job to keep Divers diving as
long as possible. Becoming unfit to dive is not a
guaranteed promotion to Umbral status, and if
you don’t make the cut, you land in the inconvenient
position of having a dangerous and specific skill set
you’re not authorized to use.
Spectral navigators specialize in the practi-
cal application of transcendent implants. They’re the
specialists that tailor implants to their user’s “soul,”
which is the term TTI uses to describe the anchored
identity of an individual being. When traveling to,
or viewing, other realities, individual features such
CORPORATE RULE
as body composition, appearance, blood, DNA, and
even natural laws, can warp or change, making
them useless for anchoring transcendent implants
(which do not flex in such ways) to. However, most
sapient things have an innate means of identifying
themselves without external input, if only through
the sound of their own thoughts. This abstract con-
cept can be tangibly used as an anchor by means
of transcendent technology, mostly through manip-
ulations through the Writhe near-cuil realm. The
anchor point itself was named a “soul” as homage
to similar ancient concepts of an immutable con-
sciousness that will maintain itself beyond the body
it’s kept in. It’s this anchor that results in transcen-
dent implants staying with a person even when they
transfer into new bodies. It also makes for trou-
bling situations when said transfer does not occur.
It doesn’t always work, and TTI doesn’t have a fully
agreed upon explanation for that at any official or
unofficial level. Saying “you lost your soul” or “it has
fundamentally changed” is bad for PR, and TTI being,
at its core, still a company, has avoided that particular
vernacular.
Spectral navigators work with Scribes, who
catalog every new and old implant into vast networks
of reference material so that they and the navigators
can then check them for consistency, measure differ-
ences in design, and perform the painful task of cat-
aloging similarities and differences in behavior from
one implant to the next based on a horrific level of
individual detail. They don’t “find patterns” so much as
record everything, as trying to draw conclusions from
repeatable behavior is almost self-defeating in this
sector of work. But the catalog is imperative for the
creation of new implants, which are often the results
of malfunctions in old ones. It’s also the best way to
predict the manifestation of Magi, people with unique
implant abilities like high cuil manifestation, who are
of particular importance to the company.
Material navigators deal with transcendent
non-sapients, which generally consists of physical
materials that have some connection to extra-cuil
phenomenon. This includes devices or chemicals that
interact with implants (such as Vents) and extra-planar
architecture like Whisperwerk and the monolith
on Europa. Material navigators are primarily
concerned with the acquisition and identifi-
cation of the materials involved in crafting 77
 these things, and figuring out what properties of
what things allow transcendent events to an-
chor to them. TTI considers these objects to have
“souls” despite their lack of self-awareness, and it is
the general opinion of all navigation staff that souls
are not a thing inherent, or even attached direct-
ly, to being self-aware. That is simply one variable
qualification to a much larger equation. It’s a bit
like saying all numbers that are divisible by 2 are, in
fact, 2. There’s certainly a relationship there, but 48
is not 2 despite having similar qualities. Self-aware
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entities simply have the sensory ability to recognize
the quality within themselves that relates to the
anchoring system common among many different
things. TTI has successfully grafted the soul of a
Vector into a previously soul-less artifact, which was
then able to accept transcendent inscription. The
results on the Vector were...troubling.
Material navigators work with Artificers, who
make practical use of their research to generate
transcendent objects and chemicals. Artificers have
dramatic work: they generate portals, uniquely
powered and seemingly self-aware objects, and a
host of other frightening and amazing things, but
TTI doesn’t authorize the generation of permanent
transcendent objects very often. They tend to be a
liability. Artificers spend more of their time building
the interfaces between transcendent biology (like
bioships) and actual machines.
Navigators of all kinds answer to Illuminors,
who serve as the project managers of their particular
branch and double as the public faces of TTI in most
cases where the company as a collective whole re-
sponds to a question. The interior role of an Illuminor is
distinctly more involved and a difficult role to fill. Illu-
minors are the living repositories and practical appli-
cators of forbidden knowledge. They know the stories
TTI keeps secret even from itself, and they know the ins
and outs of transcendent phenomenon, usually through
firsthand experience. Illuminors tend to be frighteningly
focused people, to the point of being dangerous. To
gain this position requires exposure to things that drive
people mad, and coming out of it able to apply some
degree of reason to the experience, enough that new
things can be gleaned from it. They tend to be people
of eccentric tastes, and TTI indulges them those, as
there are few born who can make sense of the sense-
less.
Channelers
Channelers are the arms and hands of TTI, who
reach out to provide the muscle and mass needed to
achieve the tasks set upon them by the other branches.
Channelers are what most of the public meets when
talking to TTI navy, or general science personnel, or
the typical workforce. They have more variations
than any of the other branches, and certainly
more population, but the secret sectors of
78 this branch contain those with the fortitude,
both mental and physical, to forcibly acquire the assets
TTI needs to do what it does. These elite combatants
are called Knights, and have a ranked echelon all
their own. All members of the channeler class employ
Knights trained in their specific tasks, and they’re
recruited from all over Sol, and all different corps, to
accumulate the talent pool required to tackle what’s
asked of them.
Spectral channelers are tasked with the lure
and acquisition of transcendent manifestations from
other cuils. They seek out hauntings and rumors of
ghostly monstrosities to try and secure those assets for
TTI. Ghost knights make up the teams responsible for
these jobs and are typically lightly armed and blend
with crowds unless a specific threat is known about.
Transcendent incursion is often random and requires
fast reactions and flexible approaches.
Viscera channelers deal in organic transcen-
dent acquisition, specifically the retrieval of bioprobes
or similar bioconstructs that exhibit transcendent
phenomenon. On a more public level, these teams
also deal with bio-threats that aren’t transcendent
in nature, but there’s usually less flair involved. That’s
elite soldiering, and most corps do have units for that
sort of thing. Viscera channelers work with Viscera
knights (often called Blood Knights), who are generally
perceived as TTI special forces units and usually run
heavily armed and armored.
Astra channelers are the pilots of bioships,
those few individuals who have been trained to com-
mune with bioship consciousnesses and work in tan-
dem with bioprobes. They run hand in hand with TTI’s
more public navy and are tightly knit with all the other
branches of TTI’s transcendent involvement structure.
Astra channelers will work with a variety of oth-
er groups depending on where they’re going or the
situation, but their permanent “crew” is the bioship
attached to them and any subsequent bioprobes that
also share their consciousness. Typically, people who
ascend to these ranks were once Astra Knights, who
are the general pilots of TTI’s non-organic combat
ships (usually MarsCo purchases).
The Ruby Facet
Within TTI’s Knights is a special division known
internally as the Ruby Facet, whose primary goal is
the capture of Whispers. It is an exceedingly danger-
ous job, and recruits are collected from every order
of knights to fill these few ranks. Rubies die on nearly
every deployment. Many have been resurrected doz-
ens of times over their careers, from saved brain scans
or recovered heads. They operate in small teams and
are often forced to face Whispers in numbers so small
as to render the encounter nearly impossible, so as
to prevent the creatures from using their own corps-
es to multiply. They use stealth, technology, traps, and
cunning to isolate single Whispers, and an extremely
well-protected secret to subdue them. Even with the
best, missions fail a majority of the time. Publicly, this
unit does not exist. TTI goes to great lengths to deter
people from the idea that Whispers can be captured
at all, as doing otherwise would encourage teams to
try en masse, potentially resulting in the births of thou-
sands of the creatures. TTI, better than most, under-
stands that a true Whisper catastrophe is only held
at bay by limiting the number of potential bodies
they have to exploit at any given time.

CORPORATE RULE
Character Snapshot: Sil Sen Vi
Homeworld: Europa
Age: 40
Occupation: Soul Architecht
Sil has brought many a dinner table to
breathless attention with coloful tales of
ghosts in the machines. Personalities and
quirks emergent in living and mechnaical
constructs alike that make one question

79
their own place in the universe. To her,
building a bioprobe’s personality is less
“engineering” and more “discovery.”
PROGENITUS low

“You alright, Willow?”

The lateral deer looked up from her food. She
opened her mouth to answer, but paused, scanning the
others for reactions first. Tells. It was a practice she’d
long ago gotten into. The person who’d asked her was
Vennir, a newcomer. He’d had one or two operations
with Progenitus’s actual engagement teams, and in
small scales. This was his first hot drop with a Donjon
team. Nice guy. Stoat. They tended to be energetic.
He was green, though. She compared the expressions
on everyone else’s faces. Most were silent. One or two
had a little smile. She figured as much. They knew what
was coming.
This had been asked before.
Willow chuckled and looked knowingly at her
team. Those who had been keeping straight faces
cracked, grinned, and tried to look away innocently.
Those who were already engaged in the conversation
were less discreet. One even encouraged her to an-
swer.
“Just talk, Willow,” he chuckled. “We’re used to
it.”
The doe sighed and smirked at the modern-day
pizza.
“Sorry,” she said in reply to Vennir. “Yes, I’m fine,
I’ve just been looking forward to this pizza for three
years.”
The others snerked, and Willow blew her hair
dismissively at them, but smiled. The memory lapses
came with the job. You had to embrace the humor in
them. Vennir looked confused and turned to the others
for clarification.
“She keeps -dying-, Vennir,” Hennale said
through a bite of his own. “This is a good luck meal,
yah? Celebration food. We eat it on the first night of
deployment. Tradition. You make it through day one,
you keep on going. Keep the walls strong.” He thumped
the reinforced bulkhead behind him, and it rattled
through several of the interlinking supports they’d
rigged to enhance it. “Our Willow there’s the best
Savior in business. But she has a nasty habit of taking
one to the dome on day two.” He clicked his finger to
his head and chuckled. “No backups in the field, so the
next Willow that shows up never remembers eating
this.”
“Maybe I should leave it,” Willow mused.
“Sounds like bad-luck pizza to me.”
“You say that every time,” Hennale countered.
“You never don’t eat it. I think it’s fate. You’re compelled
to eat the pizza.”
“Not this time,” Willow insisted, pushing the
plate away with a hoof. “Forget the pizza. I’m breaking
the cycle.”
“I’m sure you are,” Hennale mused. Willow
pushed the plate further away, to emphasize her dedi-
cation.
“You...really die that often?” Vennir asked. Wil-
twitched an ear.
“Well,” she said, “it’s not always on day two...”
L’ara spoke up, having finished her passive ob-
servation of the conversation.
“It’s rarely on day two,” she said flatly. “She’s
just in the field too deep to go get scanned again. She
dies so we don’t have to.” Several of the others lifted
glasses in salute. “Saviors keep you going when you
don’t think you can go anymore, Vennir. Everyone at this
table owes their lives to Willow a dozen times over.”
“I’d act proud of it, but I only remember the
ones where I live long enough to get a fresh scan.” Wil-
low chuckled, eyeing her drink. Maybe it was bad luck,
too. Could be. You never know. “And those tend to be
pretty dull. If I’m not in danger, it means no one else is
in danger, so the memories I come home with consist of
a long career of mediocrity spread between occasion-
al rare, shining moments where pure luck saw me doing
my job and actually living long enough to get home.”
“Think you had five hundred pounds of shrapnel
in you the last time you went down,” Hennale comment-
ed. “Still managed to patch me up before you bled
out.”
“Five hundred pounds, hmm?” Willow smirked
through her glass. Probably not a bad luck drink. Might
as well drink it. “Last week you told me it was half a
ton. One wonders where I keep it all.” She finished
the drink and levitated a rag with her pushframe to
elegantly dab at her face. “Other than in the ever
increasing piles of myself I leave behind,” she dead-
panned.
“This one time-” Hennale began. Willow lifted a
hoof in protest.
“Don’t, Hennale, please,” she pleaded, “It’s too
vulgar.”
“It’s a beautiful story!” he insisted, leaning
toward Vennir, “We’re stuck in this Pulse aug factory,
pinned down, trying to keep these damned civ’s from
getting bulldozed by this TTI monstrosity. Can’t leave.
Can’t kill the damn thing. There’s this high-pri that
we need to get out of here that TTI wants. He’s what
they’re after. And they want him dead, so they’re not
being picky about collateral damage. If we get him
out, they leave. Best option we’ve got is to try and
sneak this guy out the back to the second LZ and keep
the critter focused on us. Except we’re in a canyon on
Venus, so he has to climb this cliff to do it. If he stays
to east, the Gorgon won’t see him. Course, he doesn’t,
swings west, and halfway up the monster throws a
damn rock of all things right into the cliff face. About
the size of a car. He goes flying, drops a good two
hundred feet or so-”
“This drop gets longer every time he tells this
story,” Willow sighed, pulling her pizza plate closer.
“-Lives, somehow. Willow gets over to him, he’s
bleeding out, missing an arm, other one’s broken. Legs
are broken. Pretty much everything’s broken, except his
head. Punctured lungs. He’s shot. Way too much dam-
age. So that’s mission failure. We’re all probably going
to get crunched by this roving horror and we didn’t
save the guy. Except Willow has a plan.”
“I’m still not convinced this is medically possible,”
Willow commented through a mouthful of pizza.
“Guy’s head is intact,” Hennale continued,
having leaned in close to the raptly attentive Vennir,
“and she’s got a little vitae in the ol’ Savior’s kit. So she
juices him just enough to keep the brain from dying
out, and she programs the Pulse aug printer to scan
the brain and print a new transfer body for the guy.
Not -HIS- body, just a template thing. Female. But it’s a
patch job, so it needs monitoring. And,” he grinned, “it
needs biomass. But if she feeds it the guy’s old body,
we’re still hosed. TTI just keeps its monster on us till
we break. So she takes a handful of painkillers and
a shot of vitae with a tequila chaser, and she starts
cutting her own damned limbs off and feeding them to
the machine,” he continued, emphasizing every word.
“Awake, so she can monitor the progress and fix it if it
breaks.”
“No...” Vennir said, as though expecting a punch-
line. Willow snorted and said nothing, mouth full of
pizza.
“Yes. So the machine transfers his brain data,
she doesn’t end up scanning her own, because she
doesn’t want to remember any of this shit, and the
last one to see her is me. She’s dissected on the table,
there’s one lung, half a rib cage, her head, a shoulder,
a bonesaw she’s been holding with her damn push-
frame, and a note she must’ve written earlier saying
“Throw the rest in.” And she’s staring at me with vitae
glow in her eyes like “well get TO it, asshole.”
Vennir had slowly turned to look at Willow, who
was covering a hiccup with her napkin.
“Good pizza,” she said to L’ara, who nodded in
casual agreement.
“Ten minutes later, we chuck the guy’s original
corpse out onto the road for the sats to look at. TTI’s
animal collects the corpse and leaves with it, they con-
firm it dead, and they let us walk out to our LZ. We’ve
got as many people as we started with, no more, no
less, and they never had eyes on Willow, so they don’t
know our new girl is anyone different. By the time they
get inside to check the equipment, we’re flying away.
Damnedest thing I’d ever seen.”
Vinnir cautiously opened his mouth.
“Is...that all true?” he asked. Willow shrugged.
“Don’t ask me, sweetie,” she said simply. “I
died.” She pulled up a bottle from under the table and
looked around eagerly.
“Anyone for tequila?”
LIFE WITHIN as an unstoppable quest across Sol to show the
benefits of cooperation and humanitarianism
(another old word that never really needed an
Progenitus has tailored itself to make a state-
update, despite it no longer involving humans). Its
ment to Sol. It stands for safety and protection, mercy
original association with holy wars and the subse-
and salvation, and the general relief of those things
quent deaths resulting thereof are no longer public
that truly worry the average citizen. Not big ruby
knowledge. A lot of the mentality, however, is still
monsters from Earth or boogymen in the dark. Job-
there, if a little subdued. Progenitus has created
lessness. Lack of healthcare. Lack of legal protection.
an entity of itself, a behavior that embodies an
They’re very good at it, and it’s made them amazingly
ideal, and that ideal is considered by the corp and
popular. They’re loved by their citizenry and respected
its loyal to be correct, in a rather binary sense of
by just about everyone else on one level on another,
the word. As a result, this corp is more personally

CORPORATE RULE
not the least of which are the other corps themselves.
involved in the day to day lives of its citizenry than
Just about everyone save for TTI is glad Progenitus is
any other megacorp in Sol.
around, because they perform a critical function for
In Progenitus proper corptowns, the corp
Sol: they allow the lie of benevolence to perpetuate.
will monitor your activity levels, have representatives
On the surface, Sol functions pretty well. The
meet you at your workplace, make your nutritional
economy is strong, people are able to live pretty well
purchases for you, and have a hand (if an automat-
without a constant struggle. There is an illusion of
ed one) in your day to day decisions. It’s much more
financial freedom, in that you can choose to spend
invasive than other corps, but Progenitus has struc-
your income how you wish (though the things you spend
tured it into their society in such a way as to com-
it on are ultimately all provided by the same source)
pel certain behavior socially rather than through
and work is manageable, if never-ending. But many of
force of arms. Punishment for not living up to cer-
these things are factors of inefficiency kept in place to
tain ideals of health and service manifest in the
allow society to continue to function on a model that is
form of lost privilege, which means the corp does
centuries out of date, considering the technology avail-
less for you. From the outside observer, this really
able. It keeps the powerful up, and the majority down,
doesn’t seem that bad. Spyglass citizens find the
but not so far down that they have no option but to
level of Progenitus involvement downright horrify-
get extreme in their methods to change their situa-
ing at the upper levels of their towns, for instance.
tion. That last bit could change at any moment, and
But from within, losing Progenitus support means
would be horrifically painful to the populace if it did.
losing quality of life. With Progenitus helping control
Many would have no means of escaping if, say, Mars-
the loose ends in your existence, you’re free to pursue
Co made it impossible to live below a certain income
personal goals, fitness, hobbies, etc, provided they
bracket.
enrich the community in some way. Progenitus actually
Which is what makes Progenitus so angelic in
makes a significant portion of its capital by facilitating
the eyes of the public. They ask for so little, and take
the individual sales of its citizenry, by providing them
on all those troublesome aspects of being a fragile
broadcast services, display space, what have you. It
creature in a dangerous universe. They make medi-
also helps give them a degree of control over what is
cal care affordable, research cures for illnesses, and
actually being shown.
embody the idea that someone powerful is out there
looking out for the little people. And while they do,

they radiate a message of hope and solidarity, from
their brand to their buildings to their employee at-
titudes. Proud people doing good work for everyone.
Which, in turn, enables other corps to be all sorts of “We are a Whole. It is the duty of
careless with their own treatment of the weak and every person to facilitate the growth and
injured, while still looking kind and caring about it due well-being of every creature that likewise
to their interior Progenitus contracts picking up the contributes to that Whole. These are
slack. It’s one of the more visible aspects of corpgov embodied by health, diligence,
negligence, but Progenitus has been such a persistent selflessness, and loyalty. That which
figure in Sol since its creation that it’s become accept- embraces the ideal embraces the Whole,
ed that they just “handle” those aspects of society and and all shall enrich one another.”
the megacorps beside them stay out of it. Which gives
them a great deal of social influence.
Vectors like reusing human words. It feels like a
hearkening back to an ancient and mysterious history,
and they frankly had a wider variety of languages to
Progenitus’ mission statement reads
pick things from. Not all the words are used correctly.
pretty positively on paper, but breaks down
The term “crusade” for instance, is presently associat-
rather aggressively in practice. Progenitus
ed with the progenitus corporate message, and billed
society treats duty and loyalty as a social 83
 imperative. It stemmed originally from the cure
imperative, the first major action Progenitus
took as an independent body that showed the
level of pharmaceutical corruption taking place
in Sol and gave them a pillar to stand on, provid-
ing cures rather than treatments, and doing away
with the gray between right and wrong. Over the
years, that sort of binary ideal has turned into “the
cause,” which is the concept of a universally better
life where needs are attended to and one is free
to exist without fear of loss. But “the cause” is very
CORPORATE RULE
much a subjective thing, dictated by Progenitus, and
as such the loyalty translates to the corp. Like-
wise, supporting the growth and well-being of all
creatures that contribute to the Whole inherently
includes removing or converting all creatures that
damage the whole, and the definition of damage
varies from person to person. This is one of the
major points of friction between TTI and Progenitus,
as much of what TTI does for the sake of progress
and research strikes Progenitus as inherently harmful
with no real positive result attached.
Diligence and selflessness equate to policing
others based on your own interpretation of the
cause, which leads to a lot of judgment outside of
the Progenitus environment, especially when com-
bined with the final statement, which implicates
those who do not follow the cause as inherently
antagonistic to its success. Progenitus itself does
not condone the use of violence to force its ideals,
which is lucky, as its overall mentality would probably
earn it a lot of enemies if it did, but within its ranks
are those who are willing to breach accords, ignore
laws and otherwise break boundaries in the name of
helping those they feel are right and under oppression.
This is typically where the “crusade” term comes into
play.
Progenitus towns are grand and beautiful, with
the more opulent structures traveling inward toward
a prominent central structure where most of the work
gets done. It usually includes the spaceports and other
transit hubs too. The message is that all things ema-
nate from the corp, and the corp is where all things
eventually return. Progenitus corptowns collect dues
from their citizenry, making it the only megacorp with
a genuine tax system. (though the others get a rela-
tive equivalent through things like invisible surcharges).
It’s actually rather substantial, but they incentivize it
by using it to credit just about every corporate pur-
chase. Your home, your surcharges, cars, food, etc. For
Progenitus employees, actual cash flow is pretty rare.
They instead work for the corp in certain brackets of
influence, and their entire “check” just goes back to
the company, and they’re in turn entitled to certain
material rewards. For many, this allows faster access
to expensive things, like homes, vehicles, and other
luxuries, but it all still belongs to Progenitus. If
your employment status should change, so too
does your entitlement to various luxuries. It
84 can happen alarmingly quickly, too. Progen-
itus citizens don’t have savings accounts so much as
they have “banked loyalty,” which they can use to try
and maintain their status after losing a job or income
access rather than be relocated. It’s handled on a case
by case basis and can vary dramatically based on who
you’re talking to at the time.
For those in good favor with the corp though, a
manufactured paradise awaits. Progenitus’ behavioral
guidelines don’t preclude the pursuit of personal vices
so long as they don’t outweigh your inherent benefits
to society, which is a little social loophole that has
allowed many powerful people to do many objection-
able things while protected by their overall monetary
contribution to the corp, and breeds friction between
Progenitus IRPF employees and pure IRPF doctrine.
Smuggling and out-of-corp purchases are another
sticky point in these areas. Progenitus is rather omni-
scient in terms of what it knows about your habits and
personal purchases. By and large, as long as you’re
keeping your credit karma up (paying for the privilege,
essentially) you can get away with quite a bit, but one
thing no one gets away with is trying to hide from the
corp. Inherently, people who are attempting to pro-
tect their own privacy by regularly buying from outside
sources and smuggling things in are more likely to face
fallout from it. Progenitus’ social structure makes it
inherently difficult to maintain a split corp residence
unless you’re particularly wealthy. Even if you’re doing
it on the level, you’d have to be sending a significant
portion of your income back to Progenitus to maintain
your standard of living over there, which would make it
harder to actually purchase said standards in a foreign
corp. In situations like these, Progenitus tends to offer
to provide housing in foreign corptowns as a service,
which allows you to operate in a distant location, but
doesn’t free you from their influence.
Contract Concept: Upgrades
If you have several Progenitus characters in
a party, one way to hook them together is to
have them visit various Progenitus employees
and see if they’re worthy of an upgrade to
their standard of living, while simultaneously
sniffing out anything questionable they may
be up to. It’s a good front for discovering a
plot already in progress, as it gets you an
excuse to look fairly deeply into someone’s
affairs in a society that allows it.
RUMORS AND CONJECTURE
Progenitus society is a bit of a mix between
ancient Rome and communist Russia, with technology
making up for the shortcomings of either. It’s the most
visibly controlling corp (IRPF may be in the running for
that title, but only because you can see their agents
everywhere) and has an active role in the daily affairs
of its citizenry. Progenitus corptowns are fun places
to run plots against enormous and frightening pseu-
do-political agents, pulling many strings at once. It’s a
good horror location, themed around people who are
trusted or beloved in the public eye getting away with
terrible things in the name of the greater good, and its
a nice place to play with brainwashing and deception
themes. It’s not all bad, either. Progenitus has adopt-
ed an aggressive pursuit of its stance, but its stance is
still a pretty positive one. “Paladins” fit in nicely here,
characters who kick down doors or invade foreign
territory to rescue those who are suffering. Progenitus
will generally have your back for that sort of thing. If
you’re looking to have someone big take a fall, set up
a sub-corp under Progenitus rule and have them doing
something that dips below what you feel the main
corp would accept. They’ll go to great lengths to hide
that activity from Progenitus, because the big corp will
rub them out if it finds out. There are fun player op-
portunities on both sides of that equation.
Any Means Necessary
Progenitus is famous for providing perma-
nent solutions to medical problems as they arise, and
streamlining their implementation, which has led to
an environment where injury and long-term debilita-
tion are much more trivial than they once were. But
the research required to do this sort of thing has to
happen somewhere, and there is some concern among
the public that Progenitus may be engaging in less
than humane research behind closed doors in order to
obtain the medical knowledge they need to continually
deliver on their promises. It would be difficult to check
up on. Progenitus cultivates loyalty in its operatives,
and no one would be able to explore those closed-
door areas without already being rather vested in the
company ideal.
Progenitus does perform highly questionable
research in the name of advancement and understand-
ing, using clones. Their understanding of neural map-
ping, pain, sickness, bodily repair, and so on, comes pri-
marily from work done on cloned bodies. Depending on
the nature of the research, clones may have to be kept
alive for quite a while, and there are secret facilities
and stations scattered about Sol that have living pop-
ulations who spend their existances in a horror show
until granted the sweet embrace of death. It’s illegal
by all standards (including their own) but the Progeni-
tus philosophy dictates that some things, however bad,
must be done for the good of the majority. Despite
their secrecy, it’s unlikely they would have gotten away
with it for so long were it not for the extensive use of
shell corps, and the help of the IRPF.
Fundamental Good
The IRPF learned of clone research long ago
through their contracts with Progenitus, and the
closed-door meetings that took place afterward
culminated in a frightening shared secret. Faced
with a potential economic catastrophe that
could occur if Progenitus was exposed on a mas-
sive level, and their own internal struggle between
a duty to protect client secrets vs. a duty to ex-
pose illegal activity, the IRPF struck a bargain with
Progenitus to help further both corps. They would
protect the secret and facilitate its continuation, as
long as Progenitus provided them with all research
pertaining to emotional well-being, behavior, and
premeditation for criminal behavior. Lastly, both
CORPORATE RULE
corps engaged in a new, side project employing
said research and the cloning facilities: project Par-
agon. The creation of a Vector with a fundamental,
instinctual understanding of “right” and “wrong.”
Paragon was a far more ambitious endeav-
or than it sounded on paper. The idea here wasn’t
to simply program ideals of morality into a brain.
It was to dissect the consciousness of people and
find the mechanisms within that understood these
concepts to begin with, and distill them to a pure
point. It was an investigation to see if good and evil
were biological rather than social constructs, and if
a creature could be created that knew, in all things,
in all situations, what “the right choice” was, to the
point of never being able to choose otherwise.
As subjective as morality tends to be, this
seemed like a doomed endeavor from the start. But
that result in itself would be valuable. To know em-
pirically that right and wrong were only what was pre-
sented, and to understand how such things needed to
be presented to get a brain to accept them, the IRPF
would still have a powerful tool in the field of crimi-
nal rehabilitation, and Progenitus would have a better
means of crafting their own messages to appeal to a
universally programmed concept of benevolence. And
if it DID work, if some sort of “fundamentally good”
gene could be cultivated into dominance, then surely it
would improve life for everyone.
Paragon is one project among many, but it’s one
of more troubling ones in terms of its implications. As
with all secret corp projects, many dont know about it,
Character Concept: Regret
When pondering a character’s history, don’t
automatically assume the only option is to
have them be the end result of a particular
operation. All the people involved in that op-
eration are fully realized people too, and can
have amazing stories. One fun idea could be
playing a member of the “clean up crew” that
helps keep the public from finding out about
things like Paragon, and the sort of toll that
may take on a person’s spirit as they slowly
decide the ends aren’t justifying the means.
85
 and many would not agree with it. There are megacorp to a degree, so it’s difficult to pin specific
even some within whose primary reason for fault on them. Progenitus only manages to make such
continuing to pursue this goal is purely so that great use of it
they can tell this paragon of virtue what it took to because they
create them to begin with, and hear their judgment. can count, to
at least some
An Illusion of Solidarity degree, on
When you go into a Progenitus corptown, their the majority
brand is pretty clear on everything you see. It feels of the large
as though Progenitus is everything, and when you industries under
deal with any particular subsidiary, you’re dealing it to be working
CORPORATE RULE

directly with Progenitus. That’s part of the design, toward a com-

but in reality, Progenitus has a surprising number of mon goal rather
buffering layers between itself and the street. than random
Progenitus uses its subsidiaries like most directions.
megacorps do: as a means to generate cash and
occasionally as a way to develop things with-
out putting the larger corp at risk. Progenitus has
manipulated unique social situations to help drive
that in their favor. Because much of your status in a
Progenitus city is based on merit with the corp, ac-
tually starting up a large industry under Progenitus
requires that you be in pretty high favor with them.
What you’re actually doing, however, isn’t always as
scrutinized. Because the person themselves has been
vetted by the corp, and shows Progenitus ideology
and embraces a Progenitus lifestyle, it’s more or less
assumed that their industry is going to be working
in the best interest of the megacorp. This is delib-
erate naivety. One: because it works most of the time
(you really do need to be pretty entrenched with the
megacorp to be in a position to run a large business
within it) and two: because it allows Progenitus to be
ignorant of potentially dangerous or sketchy work that
may have a beneficial payoff, but they would be obli-
gated to shut down if they knew about.
The paragon project, much of the cloning re-
search, and several of its paramilitary groups all work
through these shells, which Progenitus will cheerfully
shut down while absorbing their research if they be-
come known and attacked by the public. It’s a largely
transparent scheme, but its a practice used in every

Character Snapshot: Felix Entidum

Homeworld: Venus
Age: 28
Occupation: Social Preservation Op
Felix ‘s employee dossier is roughly a page long,
and contains simple words like “loyal,” “adequate,”
and “personable.” It also ends with “Otherwise
un-noteworthy.” His career has largely been autopi-
lot: doing what he’s told because he was told to do
it. However, a recent encounter with a transcendent
entity has jarred his sense of duty and commitment
to his charter, and while he’s kept it well hidden
so far, he’s beginning to feel uncomfortable in his
uniform. Bad news, when your job is specifically to
enforce proper thinking.

86
AGENTS
Field Savior
Field Saviors are specialty light-armored
medics Progenitus employs to keep the pressure on
the front lines of a conflict. They specialize in imme-
diate patch and relief of acute wounds on the field.
Non-lethal bullet holes, crumbling armor, bad cuts
or breaks, things that can be rapidly repaired and
doped up to keep someone fighting without requir-
ing them to be hauled out of the fight. Progenitus

CORPORATE RULE
isn’t known for employing laterals in any specifically
significant degree, but this particular role grabs
them almost exclusively. With a pushframe, light
medical work can be done rapidly and in fine de-
tail, and the lateral can use their natural speed to
rush off to the next person that needs it.
Saviors add considerable longevity to a
fighting force by allowing them to keep moving at
full strength when they would otherwise have to
proceed cautiously and head back for the wounded.
Saviors can also flag bodies for triage and retriev-
al by better equipped surgeons after a fight has
moved on. Their jobs are dangerous, though. They
often sacrifice personal safety for speed to get to
the next person, and experienced saviors generally
have body replacements as a part of their contract.
There are some who have been killed and returned
so many times they’ve become rather jaded to the
process.

Donjon
A mix between a drone team and an engineer-
ing team, Donjon units drop or are delivered
into civilian hotzones with the express
purpose of creating bulwarked defenses to
wait out the fighting and provide shelter
for noncombatants. They’re typically lightly
armed or not at all, but very heavily
armored, and bring with them walls,
reinforced domes, and rapid deploy-
ing shielding to create safe zones within
the fighting area. They will then spread out
from their shelters, retrieve people nearby,

Character Snapshot: Willow Chryse

Homeworld: Mars
Age: Variable
Occupation: Field Savior
Willow has been an active Field Savior for the
better part of a century. Field Saviors are prized
for their ability to put themselves in danger for
the cause regardless of personal consequence, and
this tends to breed a personality that has little
patience for drawn out negotiations and social
regulations. While generally considered to be a
friendly person, Willow has been known to shoot
herself in the middle of boring dinner conversa-

87
tions to spare herself the tedium of having to sit
through them.
 and bring them back to the domes.
A Donjon is a tough nut to crack, and
is rarely worth the effort, as generally the only
thing inside is a frightened civilian population. Don-
jon units will rarely give shelter to priority targets
unless an All-sight has determined that said target
is deserving of rescue. Otherwise, attackers are usu-
ally fairly pleased to see Donjons dropping in. They
help reduce the number of distractions between
themselves and their end goal.
CORPORATE RULE
All-Sights
Progenitus publicly devotes itself to the preser-
vation of all life, but inevitably that takes on a bias
depending on the motivations of various conflicts.
The decision of whether or not a conflict warrants
interference is left to the All-sights; embodiments of
Progenitus social and moral ideals who will examine
a conflict and determine if Progenitus should involve
itself, and in what capacity. This can occasionally
mean choosing sides and becoming a powerful ally
(or enemy) to someone who did not request one.
Not that all Progenitus interference is uninvited.
Corps that believe their struggle is one that would
reflect well on Progenitus will petition All-sights
to observe their situation in the hopes of getting
backup without needing to invest in it. It even works,
sometimes. But nothing is ever really free. In most
situations where an All-sight is actually requested
to a scene and commits Progenitus to support, the corp
they support will usually end up being bought out by
Progenitus shortly after. Often at a premium, consider-
ing they just weathered an attack.
All-sights have roles off the battlefield too.
They work within Progenitus towns to monitor civil-
ian behavior and ensure it reflects properly on their
roles in the overall social structure. While a high and
respected position, All-sights tend to evoke a little ap-
prehension from even clean and well-behaved Progeni-
tus civilians.
Mercy Crew
Mercy crews are ships from Progenitus HQ that
fly into high-risk zones like Grottos, deep corp-con-
trolled areas, extended hotzones or high crime areas,
and offer an escape to the people who may be stuck
there. Escape from anything. From their location that
they’re too poor to move away from, from their debt
that they’re crushed under, from the oppression of a
local official or the violence of their area. They offer
a new, beautiful life with Progenitus. Few questions
are asked. You just step onto the ship, and it takes you
away.
Like most things that seem too good to be true,
this one is as well. Upon getting back to Progenitus,
the rigorous process of sorting you into their
society will begin. They’ll take on your debt
and your worries and show you what you
88 can do to pay them off, and set you up in
cramped beginning quarters so you can work your way
through the levels of their society, and if you manage
the incredibly steep climb from nothing to something,
this really can give you a second lease on life. But for
many, the skills just aren’t there. They end up falling
out of the bottom, and ultimately land in pretty similar
situations to the ones they left.
Nevertheless, even if your reconditioning doesn’t
work out, Mercy ships typically bring you a consider-
able distance from where you were. Across continents,
sometimes even to other worlds, depending on their
route. Whatever it was you were trapped under will
have a very difficult time catching up to you after
you’ve been whisked away, and for many, that alone is
worth it. Sure, you may end up on the street again, but
it will be a different street, far from where you were
stuck, and you might be able to hold your own better
on a second go. Just be sure you’re ready to take that
plunge. Progenitus doesn’t pay for trips back if you get
homesick.
Social Preservation Operatives
Preservation crews are the long arm of Pro-
genitus working for “the common good,” by removing
threats flagged by All-sights from wherever they may
lurk. This can, and does, include invading other corpo-
rate territories to pursue a known problem. Typically,
permission is requested, but certain levels of threat will
provoke Progenitus into action regardless of permis-
sion. Preservation crews are primarily seek and destroy.
Things flagged for an SPO have been deemed by
Progenitus unfit to exist in Sol at any level.
SPO’s are elite strike teams, but they typical-
ly lack the fleet support of Progenitus proper. Mostly
because they tread too far on the danger line. Progen-
itus will step into someone else’s yard for humanitarian
reasons because they know the public will support it,
but it’s a different situation when you send in a kill-
team, even if the target is one that poses a clear and
present danger to many people. Which they often do.
Not always, though. Occasionally, SPO targets are
things the corp has considered to be a threat to their
own position as well. Not surprisingly, most SPO high
priority targets are within TTI borders.
Guidance Crew
Karma isn’t unheard of in Sol. Like many of
Earth’s old religions, much of that vocabulary has
endured in one fashion or another. It doesn’t always
have quite the same application that it used to, but
it’s around. Guidance crews are basically Progenitus
teams tasked with controlling civilian behavior through
enforced karma. They engineer situations where cor-
rect behavior is rewarded, and incorrect behavior
is punished, in subtle but noticeable ways, constantly
reaffirming the message that serving Progenitus serves
yourself.
Guidance crew mentality can begin at a very
young age, and for those looking to work directly with
the corp it’s a common introductory job. Most of it is
genuinely benevolent, in a sort of “random acts of kind-
ness” way rewarding people recognized by the commu-
nity. But as time goes on, more advanced officers will
be tasked with less savory jobs to be executed for the
sake of “rescuing someone who has gone astray.” This
is typically done before anything criminal takes place,
as at that point it just falls under general law enforce-
ment, but if word of worry over someone’s behavior
filters through to the right ears, little corrections, small
acts of vandalism, and general reminders of one’s re-
sponsibilities may begin to show up where they’re not

CORPORATE RULE
expected.

89
Architecture
All megacorps use their ar-
chitecture to show off their brand to
at least some degree. You can get a
feel for the places based on the de-
signs of their buildings and the over-
all layout of their environments. But
it’s done with a nod toward common-
ality. In most megacorps, a building is
a building, and you can expect more
or less the same experience in each
one you enter, flavored with aspects
of the corp that made it. Progeni-
tus is one of the few that actively
sacrifice function and efficiency for
design, and you can feel the impact
when you enter their territory.
Progenitus builds their cit-
ies like cathedrals, with each new
structure paying homage to the
larger one behind it, rising steadily
upward toward a central peak that
oversees the entire territory. They are
immensely visible in their own corp-
towns, and their messages of protec-
tion and idyllic living are palpable in
all of the major structures they build.
The ceilings are tall, with arched
supports and intricate detail. Their
advanced residences are high and
open and feel like living in a temple.
They use sunlight prominently in their
designs, reflecting off white materials
and highlighting gold metallic inlays.
All in all, it’s a rather specific taste.
Elegant, very pretty, but it sacrifices
individuality to make its point. Which
is true enough of the corp itself. Just
don’t let them hear you say it.
Grandure
As you move inward in a Progeni-
tus city, the buildings get taller and
wider. Progenitus architecture em-
phasizes open space and tall ceilings,
and within large structures you will
see overlaying latices of walkways
and rooms that aren’t separated by
floors so much as spidered along on
the way up, so that nearly every en-
vironment not intended to be private
has an excess of vertical space. If the
area isn’t armored, it also tends to
be open to the outside through large
arches. Offices and work areas will
breach this model for the sake of
efficiency, but areas that have public
visitation typically follow it. It isn’t
an efficient building style, but it is a
memorable one, which is the idea.
Ship Seaming
Progenitus ships match their cities
in terms of outward aesthetic, and
unlike most other corps that confine
their flying to various launch and
landing platforms, Progenitus towns
build their structures to allow certain
classifications of a ship to seam right
into them, actually becoming part of
the building. Aside from granting a
degree of modular customization, this
also assures that a fleet is on-hand
to defend the city on a constant
basis.
Communal residence
Living arrangements in Progenitus
towns vary by position, but many of
them are inherently communal. This
serves to keep costs down and keeps
people from retreating too far into
themselves. “Privacy” is something
that’s earned with position, but even
then, it’s more of an illusion than an
actual thing. Progenitus cities include
personal service trades to a higher
degree than most other locations,
and people with enough favor with
the corp to warrant their own opu-
lent residences in the cities will often
pursue (or be issued) a live-in servant
working for the corp to gain their
own influence. For those in the com-
munal centers, it’s a bit different from
a “roommate” scenario. They func-
tion a bit like hotels, with individual
sleeping and dressing and bathing
areas, but communal working, eating,
and association areas.
Nests
A kinder word than “slums,” inevita-
bly the amount of people that are
brought into Progenitus towns in hope
of escape are going to outweigh
those that actually manage to make
new lives for themselves. Those that
don’t form a bit of an under-society,
pitied and preserved by those above
through small living areas (cubicles
basically, just large enough to sleep
in) and food bricks. While you can
basically live a life indefinitely in this
state, it’s not a pleasant one. Most of
the non-corporate crime in Progeni-
tus towns takes place down here.
Public Facade
Most corptowns will have public
areas intended for general use. Parks
and the like. The open zones help
keep morale up. But the majority of
them will be independently owned
by various sub-corps and parted
out to the public as a sort of sign of
good will. Progenitus is fairly unique
in the sheer amount of specifically
megacorp-owned public architecture
it provides in its towns. Huge areas
many miles wide will feature exclu-
sively Progenitus buildings, many of
which can be used on scheduled slots
based on merit or need. Most of the
parks, statues, or famous facades
Progenitus is known for do in-fact
belong to them rather than being put
together by some smaller agency. It
allows them to maintain the public
face they want associated with them,
while also flagging certain areas for
specific development.
PULSE

“I think it’s time for something new.”

“Didn’t we make something new last month?”
Scene asked. RaaN lifted a brow.
“Right,” he said, “so it’s time for something new.”
Scene didn’t argue the point. It was fair enough.
RaaN swung his arm around, bringing up an
array of holography in the planning chambers. He liked
this office. It was a little claustrophobic, what with the
lack of windows, but he found he focused better in it.
There was too much to see outside. Scene thought the
place felt like a cave, but it was serviceable. She got
to spend enough time on-site anyway.
“Violent?” Scene pitched. RaaN curled a lip
in disinterest. “Sexy?” He again mulled. “Fast?” Scene
continued to feed single lines to him and gauged his
reactions. It was part of their brainstorming process.
As she spoke, he tossed up various parallels in currently
running programming on the display, showing metrics
for attendance and popularity, cost, and resource re-
quirement.
“What’s this?” he asked, pointing to one. He
knew, of course. But that was part of the process, too.
Scene was good at summing up her own thoughts on a
program without being tinged by any previous involve-
ment with it. She was a good sounding board, and
didn’t pull punches just because something was doing
well.
“Rancor. Typical fighter. Their gimmick is find-
ing people with genuine grudges and juicing them for
a one-time beat up. Has that ‘super amateur’ ap-
peal that’s easy to imagine yourself in. Plus there’s a
self-discovery angle.” she shrugged. “It bores me. I like
the everyman angle, but the fights aren’t technical, no
one knows what they’re doing in them, and I don’t par-
ticularly care about their personal drama.”
“Technical fighters lost a lot of traction,” RaaN
commented. “Too much announcer explanation, too
dispassionate. People wanted something more genuine.”
Scene made a face and waved it off.
“Ancient history,” she said.
“That was a month ago,” RaaN said. Scene lift-
ed her own brow this time.
“Right,” she said, sipping her drink, “ancient his-
tory.”
“Suppose,” he mused, “suppose we remove the
previous drama and work with something that pops up
during the actual filming.”
“You want a cooperative fighter?” she asked.
He nodded a little, and threw half a dozen examples
of previous ones into the air to consider.
“Those three were arenas,” Scene said, pointing.
“They picked random audience members on that one. It
was fun, but you ended up with such a wildly varied
skill set that some of the hunts just flopped, and there
was no time to attach to any of the competitors.”
“And this one?” he asked. Scene put her drink
down on the table and cocked her head.
“Best of the set, in my opinion,” she replied. “The fight-
ers were professional, so the targets could be sig-
nificantly more robust.” She hmmed, checking her own
documentation. “I think we lost that one to ASR. They
had a similar model but they used net recruitment to
grab local heroes to control robot avatars. You can
find a pretty stellar game player in any given ASR
sampling, so they kept the professional feel.”
RaaN grunted and panned through his tabs,
bringing up an array of currently running, well-rated
competitive programs. Lots of sex, lots of violence,
most of the old standbys. But it was all rather repet-
itive. They were going to lose ground to innovation.
They needed to capture the imagination. That was the
real trick right now. People were getting numb to the
over-the-top. The gritty anger in the Rancor show was
useful, but unpolished. There had to be a way to use
that.
“Fear,” Scene said. He looked over at her.
“Hmm?”
“Fear,” she repeated, standing. “We’re missing
fear. All of these are focused on the action, everyone is
going in knowing what it’s all about. We’re not featur-
ing uncertainty anywhere.”
Ah, now that was something.
RaaN pulled up the assembler and began to
combine different elements, hauling keywords and
descriptors from various other shows to create a new
concept.
“Take a normal person,” he began. Scene made
a face, but he raised a hand to get her to hear it out.
“Take a normal person, maybe several, put them in an
arena survival situation with a target that’s stalking
them.”
“It’s still predictable,” Scene said, holding her
hands out. “It’s the arena. There’s a contextual under-
standing there. What we’d need is a longer run, or
some disposable people so that the ones that actually
rise above the situation look better.” she paced back
and forth a bit, before stopping and looking at the
room.
“If I were a monster,” she said, “suddenly. Like,
‘poof,’ monster, and you were in here with me, what
would be the context of your actions if you wanted to
survive?”
“Is it a hot monster?” he asked. Scene smirked.
“Probably run for the doors.”
“So you’re already in an arena, aren’t you,” she
continued, “right here, and your objective is pretty intu-
itive. What if we work with that? Real places in every-
day scenarios?”
RaaN sucked in air and winced a little. Involv-
ing the public without prior permission had been done
before, and to great success, but it was terribly risky.
People didn’t always react to things predictably, even
in Pulse towns.
“So you set a monster loose in an office build-
ing, randomly,” he considered, “and then watch the
result?”
“I think we’d need to vary the scenario some,”
Scene elaborated, “like stash weaponry somewhere on
the premises, or use a Catalyst agent to boost some-
one prior to the event so they’re faced with a danger-
ous situation and the knowledge that they can poten-
tially help people out of it with more success than a
normal person. We tell the audience, and then just see
if they rise to the occasion.”
“What level of danger?” he asked. He had
ideas of his own for that, but the brainstorming part-
nership had swapped roles. Now he was feeding her
things to think about, to flesh out her idea. Scene
hmmed.
“It would need to be substantial,” she offered.
“Heavy injuries. It can probably stop short of lethal,
but the screams, the fear, that all needs to be real or
you’re not going to get genuine reactions.”
RaaN nodded. As long as the injuries themselves
were life-threatening, there was no need to program
a monster to go for killing blows specifically. It actually
tended to downplay the drama.
“I like it,” he declared, smiling. “It’s just missing
the celebrity angle. All the players are one-time only.”
Scene leaned against the wall and considered.
That was true. Even if the monster was destroyed, if
they kept using the same “winners,” the fear and uncer-
tainty angle would dissipate. It was important for each
experience to be new and frightening in a different
way.
“The monsters,” RaaN said. She looked up. “The
monsters. We can play it up as the “character” interest.
Each one different, with its own quirk. It will spin off
beautifully into its own show later when we pit them
against each other.”
“That’s going to cost a fortune you know,” she
said flatly, and his grin widened.
“Sure. But it’s new.”
LIFE WITHIN defeat. At best it will earn you the scorn and
contempt of those you used to know. At worst, it
can lead to violence.
Pulse emphasizes competition in everything.
There are stipulations, of course. Working
It’s not always blatantly obvious, but the mentality,
for another corp because a position is open for
the overall message, is always one of win or lose, and
something you’re adept at isn’t necessarily “quit-
generally on a public level. School grades, job perfor-
ting” provided you’re still flagging yourself as Pulse.
mance reports, and various other metrics are publicly
Learning under another corp is a bit more worrying,
posted to promote competition and the urge to suc-
but if the intent was always to come back (and you
ceed. Shame comes with it, too, but Pulse has crafted
eventually do) and you prove that your broadened
a social structure of support and fair play intended to
exposure has helped your advancement, well then,
promote the message that, with enough work, all fail-
that’s fine too. But once you’ve reached a certain

CORPORATE RULE
ures can be changed to successes. It’s rather surprising
degree of fame in a Pulse town, you are expected
to see from the outside; even people at the bottom
to remain with the company. You become a sort of
of the heap are helped and tutored by those at the
“public totem,” and abandoning that post before
top. But like all things, there are two sides. Pulse has
your time is tantamount to treason in the eyes of the
certain standards that are reinforced by its fiercely
people. Spectatorship is held in high regard in Pulse
competitive society, and deliberately violating them
towns. It’s a celebration of each other’s achieve-
can be seen as irredeemable.
ments to watch the best of the best do what they
One of the core concepts in Pulse society is
do. Abandoning the show is a personal slight to the
loyalty to the game. It basically describes a lifelong
community, and they will let you know about it.
commitment to the act of bettering oneself in one’s
There is an oft-repeated story of a Pulse
chosen area. A promise to never stagnate, to never
affiliate president who abandoned their position as
stop striving, and to never accept defeat as a per-
the company was growing to take a higher paying
manent state. It’s a genuinely positive message that
job with ASR. He was killed on his way to the park-
has bred a society of hard workers, powerful think-
ing lot, and no Pulse doctor would restore his body
ers, and constant movement, but it carries some dark
in light of his betrayal. While Pulse itself was never
baggage along with it. Aside from enormous pressure
confirmed as having funded the killer, the conve-
to perform and the ingrained concept that where you
nience of the man’s death just as his auto-restore
“begin” is inherently inferior to where you “should be,”
policy expired in light of his new job was difficult to
it also reinforces the idea that Pulse is the only loca-
overlook. The public took it as a message, and he was
tion that will afford you the services and opportunities
largely considered to have gotten what he deserved.
you’ll need in order to get to the best “you” you can
This mentality demonstrates a curious phenom-
be. Whether it’s scientific renown or athletic achieve-
enon in Pulse towns: the corp is largely not in control of
ment, engineering greatness or the worship of a small
the actions of the public. Indeed, Pulse itself promotes
niche, the actual field is largely unimportant, only that
the spirit of competition, loyalty to the game, and
you’re the best in it (or trying to be). Of course, even
the extensive line of personal betterment products it
though the corp doesn’t play favorites, public opinion
has, but the social messages that have grown as side
certainly does. Fields that are exciting to watch or
effects of this have reached levels that are actual-
follow hold more social (and monetary) rewards than
ly self-destructive to the corp. Pulse has the smallest
others, which is why Pulse’s entertainment sectors are
actual citizenry among Sol’s megacorps of equivalent
much better known across Sol than their scientific ones,
age (TTI is smaller, but didn’t actually support living cit-
despite being a heavy investor in the surgical fields.
izenry until a few centuries ago). Immigration is socially
As such, there is a social emphasis on physical pursuits
applauded, as it represents an attempt to aim for the
at a young age, which is tricky considering there isn’t
best, but adapting to a Pulse mindset is very difficult
much room at the top of that heap. Wise Pulse families
if you’re not prepared for it, and unlike natives, if you
will diversify their children’s exposure into a variety of
don’t rise to the occasion, you’re encouraged to leave.
fields to find one they excel at, knowing that money
Abandonment of the corp by natives, while
does exist in most of them, even if publicity doesn’t, but
shunned, is not uncommon. It happens most often in
such activities can be painful for Pulse youth. To them,
young generations who didn’t take to the culture like
the answer is pretty black and white: be the best star
their parents did and sought an escape. Broken fami-
there is, or be forgotten.
lies with estranged children are often associated with
The pressure can take its toll. Unfortunately,
Pulse, and once you’ve left, it’s tough to get back in. Not
leaving is one of the hardest acts one can do in a Pulse
because Pulse will stop you (in fact, they’d likely love to
society. More than any other corp, Pulse civilians do not
have you back) but because the culture doesn’t adapt
abide switching flags. While not expressly stated by
to it well. You lose your reliability, you lose your stand-
Pulse itself, the mentality attached to their message is
ing, and you lose the respect of others, which
one of loyalty, in that one’s dreams, one’s “ultimate self,”
counts for a lot in a society where everyone
cannot be achieved outside of Pulse’s influence. Leaving
is considered to be doing all they can to
is then, by extension, quitting the game and admitting
be the best at what they do. The nature of 95
 The Drop
The Drop is a unique event that was designed to explore lesser touched aspects of Pulse’s betterment projects, namely
science and engineering. The concept is fairly straightforward: Your team designs a dropcraft capable of taking 2 peo-
ple from orbit to splashdown and allowing them to emerge alive. The craft is then disassembled into a minimum number
of pieces and placed in orbit. When the timer starts, two-person teams must reassemble their crafts, board them, and
hurtle to the surface as quickly as possible while still surviving the landing. It takes stamina and endurance, engineering
savvy, risk assessment and piloting skill, to say nothing of nerve. And the mistakes are spectacular to watch.

The Drop has the appeal of being one of the
few Pulse sports that a) doesn’t have a heavy reliance on
personal biomodification, and b) includes teams from a
variety of different corps. While it’s plenty legal to submit
competitors from any corp to Pulse events, they’re generally
unpopular and tend to face a considerable disadvantage
in both funding and support. But the Drop is primarily a
scientific and planning endeavor, and its physical require-
ments, while robust, aren’t so demanding as to necessitate
body modification. Multi-corp competition is popular in this
event, and the drama is more personal.
The Drop has had a variety of rules changes over
the years to make the event a bit more...survivable. Pulse
isn’t typically too concerned with the safety of its compet-
itors, but the real drama of the drop comes from surviving
despite the odds, and that requires a degree of regulation.
One of the more noteworthy changes came in the form of
the assembly time limit. Originally, the Drop ran on a single
timer: you began assembly and transitioned immediately to
descent. This made the event seem more fast-paced and
frantic, but it led to cutting corners and careless mistakes
that teams paid for in lives.
To combat this, the assembly stage was separat-
ed from the drop stage by a separate, mandatory tim-
er. 1 hour is allocated to assembly, with personal timers
issued to each team based on how quickly they’ve been
able to safely assemble their craft to specifications on
previous timed trials. Teams are then racing against their
own previous times and graded on a scale that awards a
gradient of points based on where they land on the timer,
and adjusted based on the complexity of their craft vs.
their opponents’. The resulting algorithm rewards you for
beating or matching your best assembly time, but not by
much, so people aren’t drastically cutting corners to shave
minutes off the clock. It also ensures that you’re judged in
comparison to other, similar designs, rather than trying to
match pace with another assembly method for a drasti-
cally different craft. Pulse was concerned that this would
slow down the action, as no one could drop until the end
of the hour-long timer, but it had a great secondary
effect from a showmanship standpoint: it made everyone
descend at once. The drop itself then became a more
anticipated event, with crowd countdowns and ceremony
that people looked forward to. The hour count also gave
the audience a chance to get to know the competitors
through their chatter and body language, how they wait-
ed, what habits they had to deal with the stress, and how
they prepared for the fall that could either make them
into legends, or kill them.
The second limitation was on what has been
appropriately dubbed a “death sled.” These dropcraft
are engineered below what is considered scientifically
plausible for surviving re-entry, deceleration, and land-
ing. Death sleds are exciting because novel engineering
tactics and skilled operators can sometimes bring them
in safely, which often leads to records being broken and
new standards being set. The odds, however, are against
it. More often, death sleds lead to dead teams, and the
deaths were entirely preventable if they had been denied
entry using an unsafe vehicle to begin with. As such, entry
into a competition with a death sled is forbidden unless
the team and drivers behind it have proven through work
experience and drop experience to be expert operators.
This typically requires several seasons on more reliable
designs, and the testimonials of various previous employ-
ers.
Pulse existence is largely “love it or hate it.” Unless you
embrace it completely, it’s easy to feel left behind.
To many, though, the benefits of Pulse life are
unmatched anywhere in Sol. Here is truly where per-
sonal dreams come true. Here you can choose your
shape, your size, your figure, pursue your passions,
embrace your hobbies, and otherwise celebrate your
desires without fear of judgment provided you commit
to what is required to achieve them. The goals may be
different, but the journey is shared, and supported, by
the entire community.
Pulse is often associated with its physical mod-
ification surgeries, which produce super athletes and
amazing figures, but that emphasis is actually played
up by other corps looking in more than it is within Pulse
towns themselves. With 600+ years of history behind
it, Pulse figured out a long time ago (through multiple
iterations of management) that promoting a homoge-
neous look and accepted “figure” was not only damag-
ing to morale, it was damaging to their message, as it
countermanded the pursuit of personal ideals. Instead,
Pulse focuses on marketing the means to be whatever
it is you want to be. Its citizen base boasts an amaz-
ing array of body types, many of which don’t actually
mesh with the “Sol standard of beauty” in a particularly
direct way. When Pulse-modded super-beauties are
shown off on MarsCo screens, it’s because that partic-
ular person wanted that particular look and it worked
well with another corp’s ideal. It’s not mandated, and in
actual practice, fewer people have dramatic appear-
ance surgery than the rumors suggest.
Most citizens will, at one point or another, have
a few things changed. Metabolism is by far the most
common, as it allows you to keep a specific fat to mus-
cle ratio more or less regardless of what you’re eating.
Beyond that, however, the number drops. Pulse society
isn’t out to make you look good by their standards, they
want you to look good by yours. Embracing individuality
is part of the message, and it gets clouded if everyone
looks like everyone else. It’s lucky that the modern era
of biotechnology can support such customization with-
out additional expense. If it couldn’t, Pulse’s message
might not be so individually empowering.
By extension, there are numerous services in
place to help you figure out exactly what that individ-
uality is. Everything from psych exams to personal train-
ing to test bombardment exists to try and nail down
what niches you’re going to fill. There’s big money in it,
and it’s a part of just about every native’s life, if only
through the constant advertising. It rarely applies to
immigrants, though. Most people who come to a Pulse
town to start living there and who actually intend to
commit to the change come with a pretty specific goal
already in mind.
Names are among these choices, and rank high
on the most baffling aspects of the corp as seen by
outsiders. Lots of Pulse names look like someone had a
minor seizure on the keyboard and don’t actually trans-
late into words very well. Pulse citizens traveling else-
where in Sol will usually present this name first, both
because it’s an official designation, and because
it lets them scout the local attitude. Those who
don’t know better will continue to use the amal-
gam of @s and #s as some sort of abbreviation for
letters, and create a sort of parallel to what they
expect a name to be. But people familiar with Pulse
custom will nod and say “yes, but who are you?” and
be presented with a new name: one chosen by the
individual.
Pulse callsign names are much more import-
ant to them on a social level than their given name,
which is also called their designation or algorithm,
CORPORATE RULE
because it changes as life goes on. The callsign, the
name they pick for themselves, is a further expres-
sion of their own existence, and is generally more
pronounceable. Callsigns go through a series of
evolutions as a person goes through life. They’re
usually given one based off their parents’ when
they’re born, to give them something to answer to.
As they age they’ll pick their own, which will be
used alongside their original depending on how
they act and whether or not they live up to the
ideal associated with the name they chose. Those
aren’t assigned, but it’s part of the process. When
you choose a name, there is a mental image for
your ideal self associated with it. Public use of that
name is earned with behavior. Chosen names can
fluctuate for years as people figure themselves out,
but there comes a time once adulthood has been
reached that a final name is chosen reflective of
the person you intend to travel into adulthood as. From
then on, that’s the name Pulse citizens use when talking
to each other, and the one considered to be “real.” The
one with the letters and obscure machine characters is
more like a reference number.
Contract Concept: Make Quota
Being a Pulse body mod marketer is particu-
larly entertaining if you attach a quota to the
sales. Having your party run around in other
corptowns aggressively marketing body mods
can make for a hilarious game session, if only
for the inevitably horrific NPC discussions it
will spawn. Story or not, HSD is still a game.
Don’t forget to laugh once in a while.
RUMORS AND CONJECTURE
Something in the Water
It’s been suggested for some time
now that Pulse may be trying to change the
Vector species from the inside out, gradually
97
 Linerunning
Linerunning, simply described, is like racing
roller coasters, if you’re the roller coaster car
and the track was made by a spider high on
LSD. Competitors wear special harnesses on
their arms and legs that latch to a looping
grid of rails and hooks to propel themselves
across the racing circuit. While not classified
as a combat sport, there are limited latch
points on any given rail, and failure to latch
can result in more than just lost time. Most
high publicity Pulse sports have a certain risk
of personal harm inherent in their design, but
linerunning has a reputation for combining
speed and finesse with spectacular failure
when things go wrong.
Linerunning emphasizes tremendous physical
Arena Combat
Earth’s public arena combat era was ac-
companied by roaring crowds, enormous
celebrations, and unparalleled celebrity for
nearly a thousand years. Also, horrific acts
of violence and depravity, those too. Some-
where among the slavery, torture, kidnap-
ping, abuse and the growing impression that
celebrating sacrifice might put one out of
favor with God, humans (or, at least, the Ro-
mans) seemed to decide to move away from
that model of entertainment and transition
to less immediately visible acts of wanton
cruelty. Like reality television. The factors
that led to the decline of the Gladiator
were multiple and layered, but after humani-
ty died and the context and history for those
Hook
Team ballsports still exist in the future, but
the opportunities that space provided for
unique conditions have bred up new op-
tions for court layouts. Hook is played in
zero gravity and is a bit of a mix between
dodgeball and basketball. It involves using
the ball as a scoring tool as well as an at-
tacking tool, and employing various configu-
rations of contact to control how it behaves.
The ball can be made to hold a position in
midair, making it suitable for blocking incom-
ing bodies or launching your own. Variations
of this game use multiple balls with assigned
roles and set up anchor balls to deflect the
scoring ball in directions the players want.
It’s a fast-paced, three-dimensional team
strength tempered with agility and flexibility,
with a little cut-throat and quick thinking
for good measure. The sport began on Mars
and was deemed feasible thanks to the
low gravity, but as personal augmentation
became more prevalent this sport began
to lose its edge. Vector gravity adaptation
meant that the risk was still there even with
slower fall speeds, but the extra hangtime
in lowgrav environments allowed augmented
Vectors to line up flawless transitions be-
tween rails, which made things look a little
too easy. Linerunning lagged in popularity
shortly before the Venus terraform, where it
saw a sudden and dramatic resurgence. To
Vector-kind, near-Earth gravity was a rare
thing to witness, and the sport was vastly
more frantic and exciting in the new loca-
tion.
Pulse, never one to miss a trick, adapted the
rules of the game to include powered rollers
on competitor’s rail harnesses that would
accelerate them to Venus standard fall
speeds while they were on Mars. This intro-
duced a very distinct and unique playstyle
difference between the two worlds: Venus
has less time on-rail and relies on gravity
to help accelerate down drops, while Mars
competitors spend nearly the whole race on-
rail, as releasing would send them careening
at Venusian velocity out of the track, but will
use considerable horizontal speed to side-
skip where possible. The thrill was back, with
the new variety and more demanded from
the competitors. It remains a crowd pleaser
today.
decisions died with them, that history wasn’t
on the discussion board when the concept
was pitched anew on Mars later. And with
body replacement technology and brain
scan backups (plus a general lack of child
abduction), neither were most of the moral
hangups. The Vector variant of gladiatorial
combat has been alive and well now for over
600 years, and continues to be one of Pulse’s
highest grossing events.
But variety, as they say, is the spice of life.
Armed with enhanced bodies and unique
abilities, modern gladiatorial matches em-
brace a massive variety of themes. Survival
environments pit the competitors against
each other in fiery wreckage or against oth-
er hostile creatures to distract their atten-
tion. Teamed matches have several champi-
ons fighting the bio-monstrosity of the month:
whatever beautiful and foreboding creature
was designed to capture the audience’s
attention this time. Hunt matches pit peo-
ple with different builds and skills against
each other in a collective hunting match. The
blood is real, the fights are deadly, and the
parties are, well. Legendary.
The arena is a classic Pulse showcase. Its
best and most amazing modifications are
visible here, on people who are not only the
greatest personal combatants in the world,
but are also rather amazing to look at. The
name of the game is “spectacle,” and few
events make you wish you could be like ‘x’
more than this one. Plus, the swimsuit calen-
dars are amazing.
Or troubling.
There’s a variety there, too.
game with a lot of movement and precision,
and less focus on violence.
Hook is a popular sport among spacers for
obvious reasons, but its zero gravity require-
ment makes it difficult for planet-side fans
to play. Not impossible, mind you. Young
players looking to get into hook will general-
ly join clubs that fly up to orbital facilities on
scheduled days of the week at a discounted
group rate, which makes it quite affordable.
But being locked to the planet in the mean-
time makes practice difficult, and many peo-
ple on-world don’t stick with this one despite
its entertainment when they realize how
much more inconvenient it is to train than a
planet-side sport is.
Many other unique events also populate Sol’s
media feeds, and with them are adaptations
of the majority of classic international Earth
sporting, which do have adapted rules for
different environments. Some translate better
than others (especially when unique body
morphisms are considered), but most have
endured in some form or another.
 over time, to suit their business more. There are a
hundred different conspiracy theories as to how
they’re going about it, from secret injections at
birth centers to water supply manipulation to aero-
sols in arenas and sealed public events, all with the
intent of making new generations of Vector stron-
ger and more competitive than the previous ones.
Vectors in Pulse towns do tend to run on the larger,
more robust side. Pulse claims that’s just selective
breeding, a result of their culture. They’ve made
CORPORATE RULE
no secret of the fact that they look for “the best,” and
that said individuals tend to stick together.
It’s really a combination of the two. Pulse ma-
nipulates its citizens’ bodies more than any other corp.
Typically it’s with permission, but some permis-
sions are more “implied” than actually, well,
real. Living in any corptown involves a degree
100 of understanding that the corp is ultimately
pulling your strings. Pulse tends to pull your genes, too,
and that can result in a few life surprises that proba-
bly wouldn’t be welcomed as readily in other locations.
The changes are usually temporary, or if they’re a part
of a marketing campaign you can go to a Pulse surgi-
cal center and they’ll undo them (after some amount
of time you generally don’t have much control over),
and since any inconvenience they cause is paid for by
the corp, it’s generally looked upon as a sort of mini
vacation. You get to be something else for a while,
and you’re not really held accountable for most of your
actions. Fun! But it’s still done at the whims of the corp,
and ultimately, there’s very little means of preventing
it. With practices like this, it’s well within Pulse’s men-
tality to start modifying their people en masse, if they
thought they could sneak it past Spyglass.
Violent Opportunity
Pulse has a very powerful fleet for an organi-
zation with no real need for one beyond personal de-
fense. A lot of it is just for show, or to serve as arenas
for tech athletes, who embrace the Pulse mentality by
pushing technology further, but it’s nonetheless a lot
of time and money and material to sink into something
so divorced from their actual product and service line.
They do make use of it; Pulse tends to pick fights with
most large corp vessels it comes across in space. Not
on a tremendously lethal scale, but skirmishes,
exercises, and other contests to
bloody each other’s noses a
bit. Breaks up the monotony.
But the worry is that they’re
using those “contests” to
scout and improve, and
when they decide to move
with purpose, they’re going
to have an innate understand-
ing of other megacorps’ technology and tactics.
The actual reasoning is less sinister, but poten-
tially more frightening, if only for its potential. While
Pulse takes care in selecting its leaders, one of the
driving messages in Pulse mentality is making things
happen, and having the tools you need to make those
things happen is essential. Generally, that’s a physical
thing, but real universal action tends to need more
Personal spacecraft are typically specialized
for specific tasks. It saves on power needs,
weight, and engineering. Pulse ships tend to
be broader in their scope, with more pow-
er than they need, more weaponry than is
required for personal defense, and a variety
of hull configurations to allow the ship to fill
different needs. They also tend to cost a lot.
It’s generally expected that owners of Pulse
manufactured ships will be modifying them
personally to make use of the extra features.
oomph than one body can provide. It’s not that Pulse bioprobe. They’re then classified as a weapon in
has a secret corporate plan for universal takeover, it’s Pulse’s budget, and allowed to exist, essentially
that they want to make sure that, should one of their indefinitely, in their expansive artificial habitat
leaders want to attempt such a thing, they have the with other eternal CEOs and contributors to the
power to make a solid go at it. Or anything else, really.
Whatever massive, amazing goal is set down, Pulse
wants to show they can obtain it. The nature of that
goal is largely dictated by whoever is in charge at the
time.

Strange Management

CORPORATE RULE
Pulse has the distinction of being a rather
single-minded organization that has remained remark-
ably clear in its actions for the entirety of its existence.
They change their logos and mottos a lot, shift around
their activities, and push some things over others, but
the company as a whole has always been built around
improvement through contest, which tends to manifest
in entertainment and sport. It’s a good model really.
The public likes it well enough, so it’s not surprising it
stays true to course.
But over the centuries of Pulse existence
enough of its message has remained true to form
that it’s caused some people to question if the
management ever really changes. Pulse execs
cycle in and out as often as any corp, but if any
company could have an eccentric band of
immortal executives pushing their
agenda through the centuries
behind the scenes, it would be
one with the biotechnology to do it,
and the message of perfection being
worth pursuit at all costs. And wouldn’t
you know it: there’s one right here.
Unlike most of the wild conspiracy theories
floating about, this one has a lot of truth to it. Just not
quite in the way it’s imagined. Pulse stars that ascend
to a position of reverence within the company aren’t
allowed to run it forever, but they are allowed to in-
fluence it forever, in their own way. Pulse has a ded-
icated Bluesky cluster specifically for its “retirement”
community, who are awarded a final body replacement
that will take them firmly out of the land of Vectors
and turn them into something more “eternal.” A custom
creature that no longer qualifies as a Vector, but as a

Character Snapshot: Rebar

Homeworld: Venus
Age: 22
Occupation: Stagehand
Rebar showed his talent for construction and
infrastructure at a young age, and like most Pulse
children he was urged to refine his skills. While
he’s arguably already doing well for himself as
a stagehand engineer of some note, he views his
current position as the very beginning of what
he’ll eventually become. Rebar’s aspiration in-
clude engineering a replacement for the current
Pulse flagship, Zenith.
101
 company.
It’s like Sol’s Valhalla, invitation only and
awarded specifically to those the corp has
deemed worthy. The company occasionally goes to
it for counsel, to ask minds of the past how to keep
their thrills genuine and avoid diminishing them-
selves by watering down their activities. If they die
in their own activities, they’ll be reborn from nightly
backups at the beginning of the following day. They
can even set their destinations, allowing them to be
created from any of Pulse’s bioprinters if they want
CORPORATE RULE
to make a surprise appearance as a “monster of the
week” in an arena, or hunt on Venus, or what have
you.
It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. While the
life is ideal for people who’ve spent their lives
pursuing a personal perfection, there’s also a sort
of unpleasant finality to it. This is “it.” The end of
the chase. And for many of them, it’s a lovely way
to spend a century or so. But the opportunities in
the micro-society of this existence are fewer, and
eventually, the retirement period wears. So while it
may be possible for these people to continue exist-
ing indefinitely, most will plan a final adventure and
embrace death on their own terms after they’ve run
their course. Some will join other private societies
to pursue different goals and new frames of mind
outside of being a Vector. A few have gone on to
join the Empyrean, while some have become perma-
nent residents of the Venusian wildlife and embrace
a simple purity of existence.
AGENTS
Scouts
Scouting agents travel Sol following rumors of
talented people doing amazing things. Their goal is to
find the next big star and bring them to the Promised
Land. Over the years, Pulse has had a variety of ways
of handling this, from grabbing and training random
citizens, to holding auditions. The public is a fickle
beast and the strategy for building celebrities changes
to suit it. Currently, much of the appeal of a new star
is “the humble beginning,” and their subsequent trans-
formation, so Pulse uses scouts to track down impres-
sive individuals and offer them a life they could never
hope for alone.
Beacons
Splendor and spectacle help spread the Pulse
brand, and one of the ways they do it is through Bea-
con agents. Beacons are akin to a corporately funded
superhero. They’re generally augmented, probably have
some form of show, sport, or otherwise well-known
event, and will spend their downtime stopping
criminals, rescuing people from fires, and more
or less making themselves (and Pulse) look
102 good and admirable through benevolent ac-
tion. They also tend to break more things than is strictly
necessary getting the job done, but Pulse pays for that.
Beacons are inspirations, and many future Pulse
stars get their start trying to emulate their heroes.
Attached to them is the message “this is what you
could be, too,” and that’s a pretty heavy draw on its
own. Lastly, the job is good PR for the person’s own
franchise. Pulse’s IRPF contract turns a blind eye to the
actions of Beacons, annoying as they may be to gener-
al law enforcement.
Kindling
Kindling operatives are less obvious Beacons.
Their job, essentially, is to promote confidence and ac-
tion to the public, without looking particularly conspic-
uous about it. It’s a bit like planting a heckler in an au-
dience to give the person on stage something specific
to react to, or planting key crew members in a concert
audience to begin clapping rhythmically at the right
moments. Kindling operatives do their jobs best when
no one notices them doing it. They try to shift public
opinions to proactive ones, get people who are sitting
on the fence on issues to get off and pick a side. Most-
ly, they exist to promote (generally positive) action,
rather than complacency, or the idea that nothing can
be done to improve oneself. Kindling operatives are
much more common than Beacons, and part of their
mandate is making the Beacons themselves seem more
appealing.
Villain? Concept: The Friendly Neighborhood
Arsonist
Kindling operatives have varying levels of
direct involvement in the “challenges” they
engineer in given areas. Some of them step
way out of line, and don’t necessarily realize
it if it continues to generate positive results.
Trickier still, Pulse tends to look at the ends
rather than the means. If you have a party
full of IRPF officers that come across someone
like this, depending on their affinity for Pulse,
you may be torn on how to deal with them.
Catalysts
Catalysts are lesser known secret operatives
for Pulse’s PR engine that engage in a somewhat more
morally questionable act of active advertisement. They
travel around, scouting people’s personalities, and
seeking the ones who seem like all they need to kick-
start their climb into something more in line with Pulse
mentality is a little dose of excitement and uncertainty.
A taste of the extreme, so to speak. And they provide
it, generally in the form of an injectable, temporary
mutation that will make the next few hours, or maybe
day or two, very memorable before wearing off. The
nature of the mutation varies per subject, and the Cat-
alyst usually crafts the experience to promote wonder
and amazement rather than terror, but sometimes a bit
of both works best. Depending on the personality, they
may ask permission before doing it. Sometimes, they
won’t. It’s not legal outside of a Pulse town, but that’s
where it’s most effective, and the risk comes with the
job.
Ideally, the transformation and any subsequently
staged events related to it will result in the subject,
and maybe some people who know the sub-
ject, to have a revelation that maybe, if they
go explore some other avenues in life, they can
get that same thrill on a more permanent basis.
At which point they’re far more open to Pulse
immigration officers. It gets a foot through the
door, as it were.
Character Snapshot: Hardlight
Homeworld: Venus
Age: 24
Occupation: Beacon
Many Beacons have legitimate heroism in their pasts
to give the public something to rally behind. It also
helps make sure you’ve recruited the right sort of
person. Hardlight spent most of her youth working
with Pulse technologies with hopes of becoming a
special effects coordinator, but became and unex-
pected hero when she employed a host of different
pyrotechnics to distract an aggressive force during
a hotzone long enough to get trapped civilians out.
Pulse ate her story up, and now she stands as one of
Pulse’s few tech-heavy Beacons.
Stagehands
Spontaneity is a large part of Pulse life,
and sometimes, the spectacle of extravagant
spontaneity is a very effective profit generation
tool. Stagehands are engineers whose job involves
transforming an area (city block, neighborhood, for-
est, or what have you) into a fully realized
arena in a very short period of time. They
take note of possible collateral dam-
age for the event, tally the bills for any
interrupted work, and wait for the right
CORPORATE RULE
moment to turn an ordinary day into an extraordinary
event. This is usually part of an ad campaign for a
larger event coming soon that people can attend and
gets the blood pumping with teasers of the action on
a smaller scale.
Stagehands are in high demand outside of
events, too. They emphasize speed and accuracy over
appearance and often have to work in bizarre con-
ditions, so they make great combat engineers. Pulse
is very adept at walling off hotzones to keep people
from wandering into them, and Stagehands are some-
times hired by other corps when they need something
complex to be rapidly assembled in a difficult
area.
103
Scaffolds
Pulse architecture rewards
those willing to explore. Public safety
is a somewhat malleable concept
here. Railings exist, for instance, to
keep small children from falling off
elevated platforms, but they’re not
intended to be “barriers” against
trespass. You’ll see people sitting out
on ledges, eating lunch on window-
sills, or walking along beams high
in the air all over a Pulse town. The
standing rule is: if you can get to it,
it’s yours to enjoy. It leads to a lot
of injuries, frankly, but injuries breed
business. Progenitus and Pulse have
working agreements on how to han-
dle an injury in Pulse territory. Unless
it’s something virulent, Progenitus
tends to stay out of it. Pulse treats
injuries as a chance to improve,
and they offer plenty of services for
treating them.
Pulse work zones are among
the more unique in Sol. Rather than
close their buildings off, many of
them are open to the world around
them in some way, sometimes directly
connecting to roadways. Work zones
also exist out in the cities themselves,
basically perched out of the way a
bit with network access and basic
utilities so people can hike to differ-
ent sites throughout the week and
work from anywhere. Pulse likes to
keep things interesting, to the point
of annoyance. One thing Pulse isn’t
is convenient. Even people working
from home tend not to work from the
exact spot of their residence: they’ll
travel to a site at the top of their
building or a zone in their own struc-
ture and connect from there. This has
the side effect of making Pulse towns
more openly social than most other
corptowns, and Pulse citizens have a
reputation for being tightly knit.
The makeshift work areas and
open air walking zones are typically
called “scaffolds,” and some of them
can be rather dizzyingly placed.
You’re not compelled to do your
business hanging off the side of a
building, mind you, but you can, and
in some competitive circles there are
social rewards for doing so.
Arenas
Designated areas for make-
shift engagement are called arenas,
and vary in size, shape, and location.
This is roughly akin to a public park,
but arenas have staff who will not
only provide materials and equipment
for official games, they will help
you organize ideas of your own and
provide judging services. If a game
has been shown to fall within betting
standards, arenas can even be used
for bets and barter, with Pulse acting
as the bet manager. Popular arena
locations tend to be favored with
better equipment and attract the
attention of scouters.
Studios
Pulse’s influence tends to be
physical, but the corp pushes the
development of personal perfec-
tion, regardless of application. This
can include art, sculpture, design,
and other fields better pursued in a
somewhat less chaotic environment.
Pulse has a large array of venues
with different utilities available for
the practice of these fields, and
provides funding and sponsorship in
many cases as well. Alas, while more
actively supportive of artistic en-
deavors than most corps, the overall
standards of competition and better-
ment are near-identical to those they
hold their sports to. Using a studio’s
resources is more a job than a hobby
if you’re looking to avoid fees. How-
ever, many such locations are inde-
pendently owned, and for a monthly
subscription, you can use them more
like a workshop without having to
subject your every creation to Pulse’s
scrutiny.
All Roads Lead In
Like Progenitus, Pulse builds
with a centralized theme of the corp
in mind, and all roads lead inwards
toward the main event. If something
big is taking place in a Pulse city,
everyone knows where to go to get
there, and what areas will be cover-
ing it from afar. While you can watch
from home, both the architecture and
community emphasize traveling to
engage in events communally, even
if it’s just to some local bar. Arena
windows are special public estab-
lishments with unique video access to
events and ample seating, allowing
people to “get close” without actually
being close.
Sports
The fall of Earth didn’t con-
tribute heavily to the fall of Earth
sporting. Plenty of people who made
the trip to Mars knew how to play
baseball, and to this day there are
remnants of human games still being
played. But the new worlds and the
new bodies inhabiting them required
changes to the rules that were so
dramatic they may as well have
restructured the game entirely. Mars
was Vector-kind’s only home for cen-
turies, and its gravity is significantly
less than Earth’s. Simply making fields
bigger didn’t solve that problem, ei-
ther. Windage was a bigger concern;
projectiles didn’t turn in the air in the
same way as before, and all sorts of
minutia from game times to goal siz-
es were miscalibrated when the new
conditions were applied. The organi-
zation that would eventually become
Pulse was tasked with rewriting the
classics to be playable on Mars, but
when they saw what else could be
accomplished through gene therapy
and modern engineering, they began
inventing new events, too. The mod-
ern era features several new sports
competitions that are substantial
digressions from those of Earth.
SPYGLASS
“Heh, paranoid much?”
Jin blinked and looked over at Nikopol, who
was chuckling a little, but looking apologetic about it.
“You keep peeking around corners like you’re going to
get caught,” he said. “Relax.”
Jin let out a breath and smoothed out his tail,
trying to unwind a bit.
“Sorry,” he said, “I just, this is my first time in
one of these places, and I’ve heard a lot of stories.” He
brushed his ears back and sighed. “Which, I know, are
probably overblown, I’m just..”
“Paranoid,” Nikopol finished. Jin chuckled and
nodded.
Niko brushed his hair aside and his features
shifted seamlessly. Jin loved that about him. Her, now.
Ish. It wasn’t so much a gender thing as an appearance
thing, but Nikopol had the ability to instantly adjust
his features from someone identifiably male to some-
one identifiably female, and would do so as easily as
smiling. Some unique surgery or something; Jin wasn’t
familiar with it, but both forms were a just-past-an-
drogynous unique that were lovely to look at, and the
range accentuated his emotional expression. It was so
quick and so quiet a thing it was sometimes hard to
notice it happening, and added to the overall mystery
that had attracted him to Nikopol to begin with. Being
up here in the middle of the night felt like sneaking
away from reality with some sort of storybook lover.
“You’re safe,” Nikopol insisted, “with me, anyway.
I’ve got sing in this town.” Jin had heard the term a few
times now, and knew it referred to some sort of “clout”
or social weight, but he wasn’t really clear on how you
accumulated or kept track of it.
“Are you from here?” Jin asked. The hybrid
leaned his (her? They’d only met tonight, but so far
Nikopol had never really stuck to either designation nor
seemed to insist on one over the other) head onto Jin’s
shoulder and shook it.
“Nah,” he said, “I’m from a little rock out near
Saturn. But I’ve spent time here, and other places. Met
people. I’m not with Spyglass, but that’s the beauty of
this corp.” He pointed off toward the glowing trian-
gle on one of the distant buildings. He looked male
again. It was a little thing. Jaw adjustment, hair shape,
eye angle, a shift in the patterns. That was the neat-
est part; Jin had no idea how he got the actual fur
patterning to shift in real time. He was desperate to
know who the surgeon was that engineered the ability,
it was great work. “You don’t really need to wear the
Prism to embrace the idea. At least, a little bit.
“The IRPF has a bunch of rules in place to keep
people safe,” he explained, “and they’re important. They
give you a point of reference and they ensure that
violations are dealt with in a fair and consistent way.
I think that’s probably the better system, on a large
scale. At least, within the organizations that the IRPF
works for. There are so many ways for things to go
wrong that having a delineated ruleset is useful.
“Spyglass towns leave that responsibility with
the citizenry. From an IRPF standpoint, it’s a nightmare.”
He chuckled, shrugging. “But the people here are
awake. They think. They think about other people, they
think about their actions, they think about what’s right,
and why it’s right, and who they feel is right to help
regulate those judgments. There’s a community here you
don’t get anywhere else. It’s trust. And it’s a genuine
trust, because it has very few immutable laws to hide
its actions behind.”
“Do you think it’s better?” Jin asked. Nikopol
seemed to ponder for a moment, but ultimately shook
his head.
“I think it’s different,” he replied. “It’s unfair, in a
lot of ways. Part of the advantage of having an estab-
lished set of rules is knowing that you can move around
within them with impunity. Without that, entering new
territory can be...worrisome. But it’s also freeing. It puts
a lot of power with the individual and promotes a lev-
el of personal responsibility you don’t get other places.”
He folded his arms and tilted his head as he took in
the horizon. “I’d say it’s better for some. I’d be disap-
pointed if it vanished.”
“I think I’d get shot inside of a week,” Jin said,
with a hint of nervous humor in his voice. “I have a hard
enough time figuring out how to behave in social situa-
tions that do have written rules.”
“Only if you pull that gun out,” Nikopol replied.
Jin’s expression turned to trapped shock and his spine
stiffened. His date had a small smile and was still
sitting casually on the building ledge, facing the view,
but it was clear who had taken sudden possession of
the conversation. Jin had thought the weapon fairly
well hidden under two layers of clothes. Worriedly, he
thought back through the evening to see if he could
pick out a moment where it would have shown up.
“It’s in your walk, Jin,” Nikopol said, having
guessed the internal monologue taking place in the
frozen body beside him. “You don’t wear it well. You’ve
attached fear to it. You’re worried you’ll need to use
it, and you’re looking around to try and find when that
time is coming. It’s sitting on you like a weight you’re
trying to ignore.” He smiled and tucked an ear. “Sorry
honey. You might as well be wearing a bright neon
sign.”
Jin felt a wave of depression wash over him.
The evening suddenly made a lot more sense. Jin was
a good looking guy, tall, bit on the thick side perhaps.
Wolf. But he was awkward around strangers and car-
ried himself poorly. Too shy. No real confidence in pub-
lic. Work had brought him to this Spyglass town and it
had taken an entire day’s worth of mental whip-crack-
ing to work up the courage to try and go outside and
meet someone new. He’d expected to strike out. He
didn’t know anything about trying to attract the right
attention at a bar, or flirting in a way that didn’t make
him feel ridiculous, or small-talking with a stranger. It
was going to be a short night of drinking alone and a
worried walk home, jumping at shadows.
And then here came this beautiful little bi-gen-
dered hybrid thing, bat and something canid, maybe
a coyote. Pretty colors on his fur. Confident despite
his size. Painfully exotic. Sits down and starts talking
to him, for no reason at all. Spends the whole evening
with him. Even convinces him to come up here on this
ledge overlooking the city, alone. Has him walking on
air. And it turns out all this time, Nikopol had known
he was armed. Read it in his body language. What
else could he read? Did he have a gun? How elabo-
rate was this ambush? Was it everyone from the bar?
Could they sniff out a tourist? How many Spyglass
agents were hiding just out of view right now, ready to
push him off this building and pass it off as an acci-
dent?
“I...don’t have much money...” Jin lied shakily, “I
don’t know what you’re planning, but-”
Nikopol had started giggling, and it had grown
into a large enough chuckle that it overrode Jin’s stam-
mer.
“You are paranoid,” he accused. “Jin, take a
deep breath, okay? No one has shot you yet, and no
one is going to. Yeesh.” He scooted over, turning to
face the larger man. “Why are you armed, hmm? Busi-
ness order?”
Jin nodded slowly.
“The travel office at work required me to take
it,” he said, almost apologetically. “They said it was for
personal protection outside of our security contract
zone.” He looked downcast as he fished the weapon
out of his coat. “I barely know how to use it, honestly. I
don’t really think I could shoot anyone anyway.”
“Not the way you were hiding it,” Nikopol
teased. “You’d never get it out in time.” He shook his
head and sighed. “I wish they’d stop sending people
out here with guns. It’ll never happen; there’s too much
uncertainty, but in your position, you’re much more likely
to get into trouble having that thing than not having it.
“Safety here is about knowing your place,”
he explained. “Your visitor status grants you protec-
tion around the locals; they recognize that you’re not
necessarily part of the system and they gain sing for
helping to keep you out of trouble. All that goes away
if you start trying to throw weight around where you
have none. Like, say, by pointing a gun at threats that
don’t exist.” He tapped the firearm, which Jin was now
feeling distinctly more ashamed of despite not having
much choice in its possession. “Those reports of violence
against tourists you’ve heard of? I’d put about 90% of
them on tourists drawing weapons in fear when they
could’ve apologized or asked for help.”
Jin looked downcast, but nodded and stuffed
the gun back into the rather poorly adjusted holster he
was wearing for it.
“Is that why you came over to me tonight?” he
asked, fairly certain of the answer at this point, “You
saw a tourist walking into trouble and figured you’d set
him straight?”
“Would that be so bad?” Nikopol asked, tilting
his head. Jin sighed and shook his own.
 “No, it wouldn’t. Thank you. You probably saved
my butt, honestly. You’re right, I’ve been jumpy. It’s just
a bit of a blow to the ego. I thought I’d turned on the
charm or something.”
Nikopol laughed and kissed his nose, which sent
his ears upward in surprise.
“Well,” Nikopol said, “the warning about the gun
is a gift from someone who’s been in your shoes be-
fore.” He made a bit of a show of cracking his knuckles.
“But I didn’t need to spend hours chatting with you just
to do that. Could be you’re more charming than
you think.” He nudged the larger Vector with an
elbow. “Still, if you want to keep working on your
technique, I’d be willing to endure a little more of
your company.”
“How um...much...more?” the wolf asked
nervously. Nikopol pondered in a needlessly dramatic
fashion.
“Oh, all night, at least,” he said with a grave
nod. “Possibly most of tomorrow, too. Might even be
a few days. You’d better free up your schedule.”
Jin’s tail fluffed up again, and his head
retreated bashfully behind his collar, much to
his date’s amusement.

Character Snapshot: Free Ca’Ro

Homeworld: Ganymede
Age: 35
Occupation: Indepdent
“Free” was not Free’s birthname. He was the
son of a ranking IRPF officer and raised with
IRPF values, destined to join the ranks himself
one day. But youth in the stifling structure of
the IRPF combined with a growing dissatis-
faction in his own inability to shape things
drove him toward Spyglass, where he found
an opportunity to clutch his future in his own
hands.
 LIFE WITHIN rather obscene punishments from popping up repeat-
edly. Rarely will two people agree that the loser of an
argument over theft or personal violation should be
Spyglass has less to do with its individual
outright killed before the tribunal is satisfied on who is
citizens than any other megacorp in Sol. While the
guilty or not. Most often, an actual duel will only take
corp itself is an information and product vendor,
place if a community agrees on a guilty party and said
it touches nearly none of the other duties typically
party refuses to accept the punishment, acts in a way
assigned to megacorps. Primarily, governance. Those
that endangers a larger group, or otherwise chooses
roles fall to the citizenry, who basically establish
to pursue an argument outside the established social
small governments and codes of behavior within
justice contract. Duels will generally only involve two
their own areas, and police them as a community.
people and usually have various stipulations attached
This means the legal protections people can ex-
CORPORATE RULE

regarding the protection of one’s family against future

pect vary from place to place and aren’t exactly
violence from the winner (which the public becomes
standardized, and that tends to lead to the widest
rather violently incensed about should they be violat-
range of concerns from visitors who aren’t really
ed). It’s a frightening thing to watch, but it’s remarkably
familiar with the system. By that same token, Spy-
effective within its setting. Upon its conclusion, forgive-
glass citizens visiting other corptowns tend to worry
ness is exchanged evenly, memories are shared, and
about what they can expect when traveling through
while hard feelings surely exist, there is a sense that
a town where the actions of the civilian populace
“this conflict has been seen through to its conclusion,”
are arbitrarily judged by a bloated mercenary cor-
and should be left alone.
poration with no accountability beyond its contract

with whatever megacorp owns the place, and hired
specifically so the corp could hold up their hands Story Concept: Culture Clash
and say “not our problem, talk to the IRPF” whenever Spyglass corp towns are generally very sharp
someone gets shot. Both worries have their merits. about noticing who is and is not aware of their
Disputes in a Spyglass town are settled largely way of doing things, but that doesnt mean mis-
by community merit, which seems a rather sloppy takes don’t happen. A grieving extended family
way of doing things (and indeed it can be) but is from another corp who’ve just recived word that
remarkably effective at promoting cooperation. thier kind have died as part of a summary execu-
Friends are made quickly and easily and hinge on tion over a conflict in a Spyglass town might seek
working together to preserve what has been estab- any number of third party sources of revenge. If
lished by to community as “the good life.” That defi- the party is hired, it could lead to an interesting
nition can change from community to community, but scenario when they find that the death was en-
less than you might think. The nature of mass commu- tirly by the books where it happened, but illegal
nication has, over time, caused a homogenization of everywhere else.
overall public response to many common behaviors,
allowing people to pretty accurately police themselves
All this is made possible through a Spyglass culture
within their own communities. Violations are dealt with
concept called “sing,” which is a sort of social currency
between the offending parties, usually with guidance
designed to weigh one’s individual value to another.
by locals and witnesses. Spyglass towns have trials,
Sing is a complicated concept and has no direct cur-
but they’re smaller affairs and usually hinge around
rency translation, but it has a rough analog to “hon-
the judgments of prominent and respected members
or” in the sense that it is gained through action and
of the community more than the arbitration of an IRPF
will lend weight to your words and credence to your
judge who may not even be from the same planet as
actions. A great deal of Spyglass culture functions on
you. It breeds favoritism, certainly, but the people who
sing. It’s gained by doing things that promote the safe
find themselves in these positions of respect got there
growth of the community, and lost by endangering or
because they acted in fairness and the community
betraying said community.
recognized it. It’s not something you can usually buy
Sing is not a universal constant. Having sing in
your way into. Which is not to say it’s never happened.
a community is different than having it with an in-
Spyglass towns are only as fair and safe as its people
dividual. If that individual feels that the community’s
are vigilant.
messages and methods are worthy of sing, then maybe
The famous duels-to-the-death over petty
your place in that community will earn you sing with
crimes are a real thing, but they’re a lot less common
the individual as well. If the opposite is true, then you
than rumors suggest. The major “rule” in a Spyglass
have to build sing with that person yourself, possibly at
town regarding punishment is that the nature of the
the cost of your communal standing, basically counting
punishment is an agreed upon value between all par-
on your position with the person to protect you should
ties affected by the crime, and that said weight is
you need support. Where you decide to focus your time
supported by the community. The stakes of a
and energy is essentially up to whatever you feel is
trial are determined before the trial be-
going to grant you the best quality of life, or greatest
110 gins, which goes a long way toward keeping
opportunities. While there is a relative cultural stan-
dard, the amount you gain or lose can also vary per
the taste of the person. These variances can cause
problems, but the culture itself has bred a respect for
communication and perspective. Spyglass citizens are
better at reconciling their actions with each other
than they are to outsiders.
The major equalizer is the megacorp itself.
Spyglass doesn’t directly interfere with anyone’s local
code of their own accord, but the megacorp’s job is
to know things. All things. That information is available
at a price to just about anyone, so people who have
abused power, maneuvered their way into positions
they don’t belong, or are otherwise abusing sing, have
a very large open backdoor they need to worry about.
No one is untouchable in a Spyglass town, and they like
it that way. It keeps people honest and doesn’t sug-
ar-coat the nastier parts of business.
Bounty hunters and assassins here will work
extremely cheaply if their mark is someone who has
violated the local social code in some way, often see-
ing it as a community duty or charity they can provide
to promote better behavior. Likewise, they will refuse
petty hits they feel undermine a positive influence. It
makes people think very hard before reaching for the
higher rungs of wealth and power, as they know Spy-
glass itself will expose their secrets, and if their ben-
efits don’t outweigh their detriments, it may cost them
their fortunes, or their lives. Spending evenings over
drinks with Spyglass strong-arms is a more intellectu-
al experience than is often the case with other corps.
These operators are idealists and scholars and social
activists with a stronger moral compass than many IRPF
officers. They value the jobs they take as social units
more than just things to exchange for credits. It makes
them more inherently respectful of life, and less quick
to threaten or cajole over silly insults.
Party Concept: Civil Monitering
Spyglass community governing hinges on a
collective agreement over what punishments fit
what crimes, and the stakes of any particular
party conflict are set by the people involved.
Sometimes, things can get blown way out of
proportion, and punishments for petty crimes
can lead to death. If the party is primarily
Spyglass, a fun investigative job might be to
find out what it was that caused things to blow
up so big, and why the parties involved were so
confident in the outcome of a trial that they’d
put death on the line.
Spyglass towns have the highest civilian death toll
directly attributed to other civilian action of any
corptown. The IRPF likes to toss that statistic around a
lot, and it contributes to a lot of public fear about the
corp. However, these deaths are almost entirely due to
their communal policing system, and should probably
be compared to IRPF kills in the line of civil defense
in equivalent populations rather than “crime,” like they
usually are. When stacked next to each other,
the Spyglass kills are generally higher, but the
number of events is significantly lower. Essentially,
violent crime is pretty scarce here, but punishments
are swift and harsh. There is a degree of “frontier
justice” associated with this setting, as well as a
more quiet subterfuge attached to each person
playing multiple games with multiple agencies,
building sing with individuals as well as communities,
sometimes at the expense of one another, while
trying to hide it.
While Spyglass towns are often viewed as
CORPORATE RULE
“watch your back and trust no one” areas to outsid-
ers, the real rule in Spyglass is to trust individuals
rather than establishments. Essentially, pick your
friends carefully. Don’t trust people to behave in
a certain way because of some established law
or social doctrine, because even here, where so-
cial weight is more important than in most places,
people are ultimately working for themselves. Spy-
glass doesn’t attach any shame to that; it’s just an
established fact that should be considered in any
relationship. Part of what leads to Spyglass civilians
and other corps having such a difficult time trust-
ing each other is that most other people believe
that ideal is mutually exclusive to an ideal of trust
and partnership, and Spyglass does not. One can
serve themselves while in the service of others, and
to give up something for someone you care about
doesn’t make you weaker in their eyes. It just means
you’ve found someone you sing well with, where your
sacrifices not only fuel them, they fuel you, too. A great
many Spyglass civilians actually view the rest of Sol as
rather heartless.
Spyglass architecture is rather baffling to those
who are unfamiliar with it. The megacorp has a ten-
dency to build without apparent purpose. It just puts
buildings in place and leaves them there, and the com-
munities suss out which one does what and why. City
planning is a bit of a nightmare, but Spyglass employs
mega-structures in a similar fashion to how MarsCo
does, so rather than trying to plan out cities to work
in tandem, people are more working to get a building
to work well within itself. Buildings will even work out
trades and arrangements to benefit from each other’s
assets and locations, and set up roads or build smaller
“whisker” buildings between them. Spyglass gets a cut
of all this action which helps supplement the overall
income of the megacorp, but on the whole, it doesn’t
actually get all that much money from its own citizen-
ry. Spyglass is easily the least wealthy megacorp in
Sol, due to having comparatively few products on the
market, its lack of involvement in the lives of its people,
and its rather publicly unpopular services. Said ser-
vices are in constant demand under the table, however.
Spyglass fleets are always moving; you just tend not to
see it. In addition, Spyglass’ material wealth is
somewhat inconsequential next to its wealth
of secrets. Spyglass knows where to get
money if it needs it. 111
Fallow Zones
Spyglass has a habit of build-
ing unique structures without actu-
ally assigning them a purpose, as a
means of incentivizing people to find
uses for them. Often, these buildings
will have unique fixtures in them,
such as labs, clean rooms, generators,
servers, manufacturing centers, etc.
Use of the buildings sends money
back to Spyglass, but who gets to
use them and for what is generally
determined by the communities in
control of the area. Sometimes, this
will result in buildings with areas left
unused, or used secretly to try not to
attract attention to one organization
or another. Buildings left fallow are
intentionally unmonitored by pretty
much everyone: they provide a good,
spacious place to have plausible de-
niability of action when it’s needed.
Prisms
The Spyglass logo is called
the Prism in the lingo of its people,
but the word also refers to struc-
tures of specific Spyglass ownership
and operation. There aren’t many of
them, but those that do exist are very
obvious in corptowns. Ships in Sol are
unique in that they are effectively
sovereign territories, which keeps
corps from being responsible for
whatever people may be doing in
them. While Spyglass does own their
own corptowns, the only “buildings”
that are actually directly related
to the corp itself are large levitat-
ing spheres, cubes or pyramids that
are heavily armored ships in and of
themselves. Spyglass does this to earn
sing with its own people: if someone
is out to attack Spyglass itself, the
company will fly its prisms away from
the civilian population and engage in
orbit or outside of the city, ensuring
minimal involvement of civilians in its
conflicts.
While this has happened
before, it’s a pretty rare occurrence.
Ironically, Prisms are a worry for the
rest of Sol for the same reason. They
will occasionally get awfully close
to, if not inside, other corp towns,
through orbital paths or just travel
routes. They’re extremely large and
very little is known about the mon-
itoring equipment inside them, but
it’s a safe bet that they’re effective
spying tools. However, shooting one
down would kill the crew, which on a
ship that size can number in the tens
of thousands. That’s a lot of corpses
to have to take responsibility for if
your only cause for an attack was
“they worried me.” In a way, while
Prisms are intended to shield their
cities by risking themselves, they, in
fact, shield themselves by risking their
crew.
Mosaic Streets
Spyglass working-streets
are called “mosaics” by the locals,
primarily because the architecture
fluctuates a lot. Building a corptown
requires good old fashioned wealth,
and while Spyglass is very wealthy, a
lot of their overall power comes from
information rather than currency.
When building their corptowns, rath-
er than starting from scratch, they
are typically “gifted” areas by other
corps who are looking to abandon
them because they don’t fit a partic-
ular need anymore, or because they’d
like to get Spyglass off their back.
The buildings inside are likewise of
varied design, made by civilian archi-
tects with no need to correspond to
a corporately enforced motif. So the
urban sprawl is colorful and mixed,
with all sorts of heights and shapes
scrambled around, loosely bound
together by Spyglass structures,
large scale building operations from
successful interior communities and
corps, and spontaneous exhibitions by
others.
Out of Sight, Out of Mind
MarsCo isn’t the only one
who likes to build down. Spyglass
engages in subterranean construction
to a startling degree, much of which
is nearly invisible from the surface.
Some of their buildings are even
capable of retreating into the terrain
to protect their secrets. Since much
of Spyglass architecture is built pure-
ly to provide people with opportu-
nities, expensive structures like these
can host a variety of curious clients.
Sometimes different industries with
secrets to keep will actually inhabit
the same building despite not being
on each others payroll, and poten-
tially representing a security risk to
one another. Sing plays a big role
in a relationship like this one, and
helps keep the overall building secure
through the mutual effort of two
industries that go out of their way to
not notice one another.
Plausible Deniability
The best way to throw off a
trail is to give the person pursuing
you a good reason to waste time
looking somewhere you’re not. Many
Spyglass buildings include multiple in-
ternal layers that are separate from
each other, either though winding
pathways, internal lifts, or hidden
access. The “front door” rarely leads
to a central chamber that provides
access to all the contents of a build-
ing. Like Spyglass ships, which have
bizarre and non-symmetric inter-
nal architecture to throw off raids,
Spyglass buildings can hide multiple
organizations within them while also
hosting completely separate (and
none-the-wiser) businesses on easier
to access levels. This makes it difficult
for corporate spies to figure out just
who is going into or out of where
when they’re trying to track activity,
and chances are very high if they go
to apprehend someone for question-
ing, they’ll get someone completely
unrelated to what they’re looking for.
Shielding your secrets with innocent
bystanders isn’t something most corps
look on kindly, but Spyglass has put
information at paradigm importance
in its society, and is happy to point
out just how often people are sacri-
ficed in other corps to protect things
like money or property.
 RUMORS
AND CONJECTURE
Assassinations
Spyglass agents are the first to be blamed
when any high (or low, for that matter) profile
assassination takes place. And some of the blame
is rightfully deserved. But they also make for a
good scapegoat, as so much of their dealing and
exchange is done without credits or any publicly
CORPORATE RULE
verifiable paper trail. It’s difficult to prove a Spy-
glass agent into, or out of, anything, so suspecting
one of potential wrongdoing is as easy as pointing
a finger.
Actual Spyglass-issued assassination is much
rarer than the public of Sol believes, but more
common than Spyglass’s own citizenry believes,
which would be a little startling for either if they
ever found proof of it. Sol’s public at large thinks
Spyglass holds just about every knife that’s ever
been shoved in someone’s back, and that simply
isn’t the case. Spyglass agents are sometimes hired
to kill people, yes, but the ones paying them aren’t
the Spyglass corp, it’s some independent that really
wants a particular person dead and figured they
should hire well. But the citizenry of Spyglass thinks
their corp pretty much never directly interferes with
the development of other corps. It’s against their
credo: they expose, they create transparency, and they
profit off the problems people make. Directly ending a
corporate head doesn’t really accomplish that. Typi-
cally, when an important person dies, they find a way
to make their secrets die with them, and it eliminates
a large source of potential profit later. But Spyglass
has done this on several occasions, and for surprisingly
personal reasons.
The general rule in a Spyglass town is that
anything goes provided you can come to an equitable
agreement with whoever you’re working with, and no
one steps in to stop you. This regulates itself through
sing, because large and powerful groups are willing
to step in to assist small organizations in removing a
problem in order to gain sing with customers and com-
munity. But it’s not always as neat and clean as that,
and there are times when people have managed to
engage in morally unacceptable business without being
challenged, because they’ve greased enough palms
that no one will step in with enough force to remove
them. In situations like these, Spyglass will usually dig
up information on the people involved and sell it off to
their competitors to expose them, weakening their hold
and opening up sing opportunities for other people to
challenge them. However, in situations where expos-
ing the corp would actually damage Spyglass through
some financial connection, or damage a corp
Spyglass is currently trying to nurture, more
direct steps are taken.
114 An assassination of this nature is gener-
ally ordered by a Spyglass exec on their own authority,
basically betting their sing with the company on the
issue because they personally feel this behavior needs
to be stopped. It’s risky. They can lose their position,
or even their life if they’re in sensitive enough circles.
But if they pull enough weight within the corp, one of
the rewards for that loyalty is the ability to shape the
world a bit by removing things that don’t fit your ideal.
Privileged Information
One of the issues that Spyglass critics voice
regularly is the duality in their mission statement. The
company promotes transparency and the exposure of
secrets so that people know what’s going on behind
the scenes. However, they also make most of their mon-
ey selling said secrets, meaning they’re holding onto
them and keeping them hidden until they can get the
price they want. From a moral standpoint, it appears
contradictory. If they truly wanted transparency, they’d
just release everything they ever find. Pundits argue
that the corp needs to be able to fund its methods
somehow and that removing the ability to protect
those secrets from the people who want to keep them
is a suitably effective deterrent from engaging in more
clandestine affairs regardless of whether or not the
secrets are actually exposed. It’s a tough thing to map;
most companies brought to ruin aren’t interested in
commenting on whether or not they would have be-
haved better if they knew Spyglass had their secrets
in a drawer somewhere, and those that do know can’t
talk about it without exposing themselves.
Efficacy aside, the fact remains that Spyglass
knows more than it tells, and its reasons for keeping
some information quiet appears to be monetary in
nature. For most of those reasons, this is true. Some of
them, however, point to corporate alliances of a higher
nature than what the public sees. This is typically an
issue of escalation: a technological discovery or inven-
tion that will give one faction or another unparalleled
strength in arms that will result in either a takeover of
all of Sol, or a rapid development of countermeasures
that will outpace society’s ability to adapt to them.
One example of this is Pulse’s snap-shunt, a
short range teleporter capable of moving a per-
son-sized object a few feet in any direction. The
technology isn’t very efficient as a transit solution due
to its range, but it has great potential as a defensive
technology. If it can be made to accurately target in-
coming projectiles, it can teleport them aside, forming
a barrier that will effectively protect the user from in-
coming physical objects. There are operable systems in
place for testing this on a small scale, but rather than
sell these designs off to competitors, Spyglass has kept
them hidden and simply told Pulse that it has them and
doesn’t want them developed. If these shunt shields got
working and working well, they would negate the effi-
cacy of projectile weapons, which would in turn force
a paradigm shift toward energy weapons, which would
not only negate the value of the shunt shield as a de-
fensive mechanism, it would also cause a rebalancing
of power in offensive technology that could prove dev-
astating if the megacorps couldn’t adapt fast enough.
Projectile weapons have endured as long as
they have because they’re in a safe spot. They kill peo-
ple very efficiently, but they can be defended against
as well without negating their use entirely. Escalating
out of that balance would result in a great deal of
dying. Pulse knows this and has been hesitant about
pursuing research down an avenue that may lead to
their own destruction, but having Spyglass tapping
their research on the table and breathing down their
necks helps ensure they don’t try anyway.
This, among a few other things, is why the new
Lumen corporation that emerged out of nowhere is
such a problem for Sol’s old guard. FTL transit has long
been one of these forbidden escalation technologies,
and Spyglass has at least a dozen prototype docu-
ments stored away in files specifically to keep them
from being pursued further unless all megacorps are
on board with it. Lumen emerged from nowhere with
a fully working model and escaped Spyglass’ notice.
More than a few people were fired the day Lumen
ships flashed in over Mars.
Stealth
One of the Spyglass staples is their lauded
stealth technology, which allows them to do things like
run the Earth quarantine, slip past IRPF patrols, and
repeatedly steal information from high security areas.
The public is told this is due to secret and specialized
research on the part of Spyglass specifically for the
goal of espionage, which helps paint them in a neg-
ative view. Spyglass doesn’t really deny it. After all,
that’s generally what it’s used for. But there’s a prob-
lem with the accusation, or rather, with the whole situ-
ation. Save for very few exceptions, there’s no “stealth”
in space.
With a backdrop of near-absolute zero to scan
against, any unaccounted for thermal energy, even
something as small as gas leaking from a directional
thruster, is incredibly easy to detect. Even at galac-
tic distances, if something (like propulsion) is burning
where it shouldn’t be, noticing it is very simple. Yet
somehow Spyglass continues to evade detection. And
when their ships occasionally are spotted, and even
destroyed, looting the remains reveals very few secrets.
A few new alloys, some clever heat abatement, but not
enough to account for their legendary stealth. So how
does it happen?
It happens because Spyglass has played the
long game, and has played it disturbingly well. Detec-
tion relies on two things: the conditions you’re trying
to detect in, and the equipment you’re using to detect.
The conditions in space are ideal, but the equipment
is compromised. Spyglass has been seeding sensory
equipment manufacturers for centuries. They own shells
within shells, from aspects of unrelated software to the
chemical components in the lenses of ship-based cam-
eras. Small layers of each operation that aren’t
enough to implicate the whole, but compromise
the function of the devices in key situations. And
it doesn’t stop there. They strike deals with the op-
erators, too. They plant the right butts in the right
chairs at the right times, enough to get key ships
through key areas, all the while allowing the IRPF to
perpetuate the insistence that the power is really in
Spyglass ships.
Because, on certain levels, the IRPF is aware
their equipment is compromised. But they can’t
figure out how, or who, or why it keeps happening
CORPORATE RULE
as they shift designs or switch to new models, and
admitting to that would damage their credibili-
ty in a dramatic way. It may even cost them their
megacorp contracts. So Sol continues to labor under
the impression that Spyglass ships possess mira-
cle cloaking technology (and in fairness, they are
stealthier than other ships) while the real secret
to their success doesn’t come from controlling their
ability to be detected, but from controlling the
things and people doing the detecting.
AGENTS
Independents
If you’re looking to get sing with Spyglass,
the easiest way to begin is to set yourself up as an
independent and just get out in the world and start
looking. For anything, really. Spyglass doesn’t exactly
pay well for information about your neighbor’s shop-
ping habits, but they will pay, because you never know.
Said neighbor may one day go on a killing spree, and
information about their shopping habits could be
worth quite a bit. You don’t need to be just reporting
on other people, though. You could start a business of
your own, doing whatever, and supplement your income
by selling information about performance and products
to Spyglass.
Wayfinders
Wayfinders are a step up from Independent
info dealers, and subsequently, a step away from the
activities of good, law abiding people by the defini-
tions of the IRPF. A Wayfinder’s job is to find ways into
places. Vaults, clubs, societies, servers, whatever may
apply. They are the enemy of exclusivity. They don’t try
to take anything or actively destroy anything, but they
sell the information to Spyglass, which then determines
how to leverage it. The info has a time limit on it, gen-
erally (even when a breach hasn’t been noticed, most
high-security areas will change their protocols peri-
odically anyway), but if a way coincides with a need,
the reward for providing it can be very profitable.
Reputation is everything in this business, so it’s not
something one typically starts out with. After
all, a way through, say, the Earth quarantine,
is extremely valuable, but no one would risk
115
 attempting it if it didn’t come from a reputable
source.

Whistleblowers
Spyglass collects secrets in order to use them
as leverage, convert them to profit, or just expand
their overall pool of resources. However, the corp
does have a moral guiding principle that pops up
from time to time, depending on what it discovers.
Sometimes, things are found that require the atten-
tion of the public not because they will turn a nice
CORPORATE RULE

profit, but because the people deserve to know it.

Whistleblowers are unique investigation teams who
sift through Spyglass information until they’ve found
something they feel deserves closer investigation
from a humanitarian standpoint. Once they’ve dug
deep enough to know for sure, they engineer a way
to inform the public that will be very difficult to
cover up without Spyglass assistance. The money
comes from the second part: they basically cre-
ate a situation in which their corp is the only one
equipped to fix it. However, specific to the Whis-
tleblower’s job is the knowledge that the second
half of the operation is less important than the first
half. Ultimately, either by public exposure or by re-
arranging the situation to hide it, whatever is going
on needs to be stopped.
Whistleblowers are uncommon, even among
Spyglass employees. Aside from it not being a
particularly profitable line of work in most cases, it
also requires tremendous resources and makes for very
angry enemies. But many important atrocities in Sol’s
history have been put to an end thanks to the secret
actions of Whistleblowers in the past. Alas, self-pres-
ervation means those agents involved need to hide
their identities, so in addition to being difficult and
dangerous work, it’s also pretty thankless.

Issue Consultants
The complexity of Sol’s business life and the
occasional violence attached to it means that many
people can get themselves wrapped up in situations
that are just plain too big for them to handle if they’re

Character Snapshot: “Dusty”

Homeworld: Venus
Age: 67
Occupation: Whistleblower
Independents that work for long enough tend
to transition into whistleblowers. It just hap-
pens: if you’re successful as an independent
you can generally retire. If you don’t, you’ve
stayed in because your career has shown
you things you feel need fixing, money or not.
Dusty is one such person, and 5 decades of
Sol’s underbelly have made him very good at

116
his job.
not careful. Make the right enemies (or just too
many too quickly) and you can find yourself way
out of your depth. Issue Consultants are around
to take over those problems for you.
Issue Consultants are specialized merc
groups that remove issues from your plate by any
means they can. Part of the conditions of their work
is that their contract contains no conditions or
stipulations in how they handle the problem aside
from that it can’t cause any further problems for
the client. From there, they take over. Sometimes
it’s blackmail, sometimes it’s bribery. Assassination.

CORPORATE RULE
Threats. The method varies by the problem and the
team.
Issue Consultants are more surgical than
most merc groups. Their job necessitates find-
ing permanent solutions for problems. Killing the
problem isn’t always a permanent solution. In fact,
it could make enemies of the problem’s partners,
which would then make additional problems for
both the team and the client. So there’s research
and planning that goes into creating a good fix
for whatever the problem is that won’t un-fix itself
later.

Hands
Hands are a bit like Independents that work
for individuals rather than freelancing for Spy-
glass. They’re the personal assistants to pow-
erful people and are working to gain sing with
them specifically, rather than the corp. Their skills
and abilities vary, but they tend to be quite loyal
to their employers. After all, they’ve basically de-
cided that working for this one person is going to
carry them further in life than trying to work for a
megacorp. Their eggs are pretty firmly placed in that
basket.

Character Snapshot: Snare and Jezzail

Homeworld: Venus
Age: 30
Occupation: Issue Consultants
Snakes, unsurprisingly, are the most common
purchasers of body replacement surgery in
all of Sol. Being trapped in a body with no
limbs is awfully difficult. But Spyglass is big
on turning a liability into an asset, especially
when people don’t expect it. Snare and Jez-
zail use a shared body socket to blend into
biped society when they need to, and shed it
when they want to avoid detection.
117
LUMEN
Lumen corp is less than a year old and has al-
ready managed to destabilize the balance of power in
Sol. Which is pretty much the most common first line on
any new corp’s biography, and stays that way right up
until they fold or are consumed a few years later. Rest
assured, buzz wording has not vanished in the future.
In truth, it’s pretty difficult to destabilize the balance
of power in Sol, mostly because said balance is largely
based on controlling information, which in turn controls
the development of technology or ideology, both of
which are pretty essential to that whole “destabiliza-
tion” thing. Indeed, the only way you could really upset
the way things worked was to somehow grassroots up
a rebellion on the scale of billions, or to conduct R&D
on truly revolutionary technology completely unde-
tected, and spring it on the universe while somehow
keeping it safe from megacorp abduction. Both are
rather equally unlikely. Which was why it was such a
goddamned surprise when Lumen pulled off the latter.
The Lumen corporation is currently the sole
possessor of faster than light travel technology, which
granted them unspeakable amounts of money over-
night, not to mention publicity. Lumen’s FTL drive isn’t
terribly fast as space-scale speeds are concerned (it
caps out at about 1.5 times the speed of light) and
as such isn’t well suited for interstellar travel, but it’s
officially the fastest thing in the neighborhood, and
by a terrific margin. FTL gave the people of Sol the
one product they couldn’t buy and were always losing:
time. It cuts weeks-long trips down to minutes, allows
hundreds of times more work-efficiency than before in
terms of shipping and downtime, completely outclasses
any degree of pursuit craft made by anyone else, and
has forced corps all around Sol to redefine the way
they do business in order to keep up (which generally
involves contracting Lumen, as the drives themselves
are not for sale). The Lumen megacorp became number
1 on everyone’s speed dial the moment they proved
they could move material between planets multiple
times per day as opposed to once or twice a month.
And to make matters even more complicated, that
wasn’t their only trick.
Lumen also boasted a proprietary miniatur-
ization service, specializing in the dramatic reduction
of an object’s size while maintaining its functional
properties. It often requires a dramatic rebuild of the
object, but Lumen’s boast is that it works on anything
you can buy, and they’ve done a frighteningly good job
of proving it so far. The most dramatic civilian-level
demonstration was in the miniaturization of standard
rifle designs into weapons that micros less than a foot
tall could wield normally, without losing any of their
destructive power. The designs seem to throw phys-
ical laws out the window, and attempts to reverse
engineer them have all been met with failure. When
Lumen demonstrated that the same methods could be
used to turn a battleship into something the size of an
SUV while maintaining all the destructive pow-
er and armored resilience it used to have, the
megacorps took notice in a big way. Especially
when 100 such SUV-sized battleships could be load-
ed onto a Lumen lightspeed freighter and delivered
anywhere in the solar system with no chance of
interception. Six months after their introduction as
an overnight megacorp, Lumen put a price tag on
that very service, offering to throw in the fleet itself
as part of the deal, and the IRPF collectively shat a
brick.
CORPORATE RULE
Everything the Light Touches
Lumen’s primary shocker was its existence to
begin with. No one had heard of them before; they
weren’t a research company anyone was funding,
their scientists were no-names, their backers were
invisible, and their home base of operations is still
unknown. How they assembled the researchers,
materials, and funding they needed to build not
only their advanced propulsion systems but also the
ships to affix them to is a matter of great concern
to Sol’s megacorps. This is the sort of thing they
look out for carefully, and it was a rude awakening
when it snuck up on them. Especially considering
they had already collectively decided that, in the
interest of preserving the current balance of power,
no individual corp would develop light speed transit
without sharing the information with the others, lest
their tactical advantage lead to full-on war. Sharing
the data on building FTL wasn’t very appealing, consid-
ering what it would cost to develop it to begin with,
and there was no shortage of money to be made the
old fashioned way, so developing it wasn’t an avenue
any of the megacorps approached. Smaller industries
have tried here and there in the past for the sake of
exploration, but would inevitably be bought out as they
got too far in their research. It wasn’t always mali-
cious, either; that’s just how most companies ended up
stopping in Sol. You reach a certain point, and then you
accept a check from MarsCo, who takes your quantum
physics-based propulsion model and finds a way to use
it to make coffee .2 credits cheaper to manufacture
and subsequently sell to some-odd 12 billion people.
Technological stagnation is rampant in Sol for precisely
this reason, something which carries with it no small
degree of irony considering the birth of the corporate
nation supposedly stemmed from flexibility and innova-
tion, according to Vector history.
Lumen, however, gave no indications that it
had the resources to develop the technology it was
building. It gave no indications it existed at all, short
of simply showing up one day in Mars orbital space,
abducting an entire passenger ship, and transiting it
to Venus in a matter of minutes. Not exactly the most
“legal” action, but the transport company dropped
the charges like a rock in return for a favor-
able contract to sell tickets on Lumen’s ships.
In an hour, Lumen had contracts with every
119
 interplanetary transport company in Sol, and a
very large target on their heads.
Lumen’s expansion since its debut has been bold
in terms of sheer wealth and growth, but rather
cautious compared to what they could be achiev-
ing if they pushed harder. There are a lot of things
holding them back at the moment, both visibly and
invisibly. Visibly, their fleet is extremely small and
their technology extremely secretive. The Pando-
ra’s Box has been opened on FTL, so destroying
the existing ships won’t really put an end to what
CORPORATE RULE
Lumen has started, but the fleet is nonetheless small
enough that if they were ever caught unable to
flee, they’d be easy pickings. Lumen keeps it that
way in order to minimize the possibility of their
technology falling into someone else’s possession,
but it also holds back the company’s overall expan-
sion.
In addition, they’re the single most watched
force in Sol at the immediate moment. MarsCo and
the IRPF both are sitting with their fingers on but-
tons, waiting for an excuse to declare a full-scale
purge on sight of Lumen craft the moment they do
something directly aggressive. So far, Lumen has
only offered to transport other people’s attack craft
for other people’s operations, and, as a play-fair to
the IRPF, will not extract ships they’ve dropped off,
which forces people to scale their engagements
to something they can endure for the duration. It’s
a tenuous agreement at best, and the IRPF is al-
ready working hard at monopolizing Lumen engines
“for public safety,” to avoid other aggressive forces in
Sol having potential access to superior weaponry or
propulsion. Lumen has, so far, avoided direct contracts
with megacorps. They have no shadow president and
no previous history, so it’s unlikely they know of the an-
cient accords against the very technology they made,
but whoever is at the helm seems to have discerned
that giving any one of these titans the ability to come
and go anywhere as they please would lead to some
frightening backlash. They are, at least to those watch-
ing the news, in way over their heads. Digitransit corps
want the entire company destroyed. Standard trans-
port wants to gut them for their technology. The IRPF
wants the public to believe they’re inches away from
assembling an unstoppable threat to Vector-kind so
they can gain police control over them. MarsCo can’t
figure out where they’re coming from, or they would
have arranged an accident already and simply weath-
ered the public outcry. It is, in all senses, a mess. Or
would be, if the mess wasn’t the primary goal to begin
with.
A Social Experiment
Lumen is a Cogsune company, the only one in
existence. A small detachment of Cogsunes tasked with
studying Vector society and technological adap-
tation, purely for the sake of accumulating
interesting data on various unknowns, gath-
120 ered various “throwaway” technologies in the
Cogsune cabinet and assembled a corp around them.
Lumen has a Vector public face (the CEO is
actually a robot using a Cog design and controlled re-
motely), a Vector employee base, and Vector crews on
their ships, but behind the secret doors and in distant
corners of the solar system, a small team of Cogsunes
rattles the cages of Sol in order to map aggregate
data on how who reacts to what. They’re studying the
patterns of innovation related to threats, wealth, and
perceived need in order to see if there’s anything in
the Vector psyche worth exploiting as improvements
to themselves. It’s a useful experiment from a Cogsune
point of view, but from the Vector side, it looks a lot
like someone throwing a match into a gas tank and
giggling as they run away on fire. They’re dangerous
and unpredictable, which, in fairness, was rather the
point.
The Cogsunes themselves are unconcerned with
the technology they’ve developed here. The FTL drive
they’re employing in Lumen ships is a dead-end sys-
tem they developed ages ago. The principle behind it
maxes out at around twice the speed of light before it
simply stops having the ability to go faster, making it
useless as an interstellar transit system unless genera-
tion ships are considered (a far less appealing concept
to Vectors, who have in no way exhausted the real
estate they already have available via terraforming).
Cogsunes are in possession of vastly better interstellar
systems that don’t employ “speed” at all, but they’ve
kept those to themselves. Even if one of the Lumen FTL
drives gets stolen, dissected, and reverse engineered,
it will ultimately send Vector-kind in the wrong tech-
nological direction in terms of long term use. But it’s
infinitely useful on a local scale, which made it an ideal
commodity to leverage when it came time to decide
what to build the business around. The “shrinking” ser-
vice, likewise, isn’t a technology so much as a correc-
tion. Whatever needs miniaturizing is scanned and sent
to the Cogsune station, which has a good laugh and
rebuilds it at a compact scale with the same levels of
efficiency, emphasizing the accuracy of reduction. It’s
a bit like a Rubik’s cube to them, a fun activity, and
already within Cogsune social circles, the members of
Lumen are thought of as spending too much of their
days goofing off. So much so, in fact, that they were
actually tasked with additional work: the handling of
field cogsunes.
Presently, all field Cogsunes report through Lu-
men-related substations rather than returning to their
home Cogsune stations, which has provided a conve-
nient stopgap in case they’re ever outed. Lumen could
take the fall for it (if a fall was required; it may not be
if the transgression isn’t large enough) and even if the
corp goes under, the rest of Cogsune-kind could con-
tinue to exist in secrecy, rather than being directly tied
to their field agents. Having Lumen around has opened
up a great deal of opportunities to test social theory
and the occasional odd development, but Cogsune-
kind, in general, doesn’t view the project as particu-
larly more or less important than any other. Ultimately,
having Vectors as a test bed isn’t that large a boon.
Their own simulations are much easier to collect ag-
gregate data from, and while having closer access to
Vectors can allow them to check the accuracy of their
simulations, all that’s really done is prove their simu-
lations to be pretty damned accurate. The end goal
is the more interesting one: finding out if behaviors
that can’t normally be predicted, like those that stem
from new adversity or unforeseen development, can
be successfully adapted to a more permanent state
of mental flexibility and innovation. It’s something their
simulations have less information about, mostly because
it hasn’t happened on quite so large a scale. At least,
not in a way that makes sense to Cogsunes.
The Weakness
Cogsunes have a flaw. Several, in fact, which
they’re all too happy to tell you about, but this one
in particular is proving more vexing now than ever.
Though their species is capable of creativity, intuition,
abstraction, and even artistic expression, their logic
is locked to an extremely solid model of the universe.
That model can be tweaked and change as discoveries
are made, but it serves as a default “instinct” for the
creatures themselves. Cogsunes, for instance, are not
taught math. They just know it. All of it. And while it is
possible for them to make adjustments to the way they
compute math, it is not possible for them to, say, re-
move “math” as a concept from their minds. They would
be unable to reconcile a lack of these principles with
the rest of their world, which runs into a serious prob-
lem when attempting to work
out something that has been
becoming a larger and larger
factor in their solar system:
transcendent phenomena.
The Cogsune transcendent weakness
stems from two factors: the first is a lack of
information about the properties involved in the
initial discovery and leverage of transcendent
technology. Cogsunes were “educated” by ASR, who
have no real information about how TTI’s science
works, and nothing about its origins. The measurable
effects of these abilities don’t correspond to the
energy or qualities of matter feeding into them by
any stretch, which unhinges the Cogsune think-en-
gine something fierce. With access to the right sets
CORPORATE RULE
of variables, it wouldn’t be so bad, but that leads to
problem number two: the variables themselves don’t
make sense.
Many of the glyphs and factors of transcen-
dent technology rely as much on input from one side
of reality as they do from the other, which means
only a portion of the system itself functions in our
interpretations of reality. The others are based in
sciences that can’t exist here. Cogsunes can con-
ceive of that idea, but actually putting that con-
ception into practice doesn’t work for them. Vectors
can disregard incongruity or impossibility and focus
solely on perceived results. It’s a key factor in an
inherited human condition called “faith.” Cogsunes
lack that ability. For them to accept a thing re-
quires that it fit various established models in their
mind, resulting in very accurate, analytical thinking,
and an utter inability to cope with TTI’s namesake
product in action long enough to collect the informa-
tion they need to solve problem number 1.
Lumen is a possible means to remedy, or at
least mitigate, that shortcoming. Cogsune “imagination”
is vivid and creative, but it is ultimately their brains
working through variables in scientific principal in
their minds to innovate new develop-
ments. They have a very large box to
think in but are incapable of thinking
outside of it. As such, they can only
partially understand, or even cope,
with transcendent events. But by using
Lumen, they hope to be able to work
their way into
deeper aspects
of that techno-
log and perhaps
collect the missing pieces they
need in order to work with it directly,
or at the very least, recruit those people
who already work with it and learn what it is
about their brains that allow it to happen and how
it might be harnessed. It’s not a guarantee; there are
many among the Cogsunes who believe gaining that
degree of “natural insanity” would not be compatible
with the amazing degree of cognitive clarity the race
enjoys, but Cogsunes are, if nothing else, always
willing to experiment.
121
GROTTOS report on events across borders, and telecommunica-
tion makes government attempts to suppress infor-
mation difficult and noticeable. But by starting from
The illusion of a government-less system has
a common central location on Mars with no outside
been a critical tool in allowing the massive dictator-
influences and having each subsequent corp generation
ships in place to continue functioning, and it’s based
come into existence with a vested interest in perpetu-
mostly around the only recorded instances of “govern-
ating a lie that resulted in profit and solidarity among
ment” causing the literally bleeding wound in the sky
the consumer base, it was much more achievable.
that is Earth. The propaganda that originated from the
“Control the means of production,” as they say, and in
war in order to legitimize Mars’s activities has become
this case, the product was “fact.” It has worked won-
fact in the eyes of the current population, and with the
derfully on a large scale, but there have been many
megacorps in control of history, they can determine
exceptions over the years, and considerable care has
what is and isn’t available from the times before Vec-
been taken to make sure the public understands how
tors.
“bad” those other options are.
The most critical step of any mass deception is
Grottos are where you will most often find
the ability to control the truth from all angles. In the
variants of the existing power echelon that more
Earth model, this is a very difficult thing to accomplish,
closely resemble democracy or representative govern-
as other nations with other agendas can witness and
ment (or sometimes more violent and controlling models
than exist within the corptowns). Grottos are micro-so-
cieties that exist under their own rule, usually in secret
or someplace beyond general corporate interest. Public
opinion has been heavily weighted to distrust these or-
ganizations, and they’re looked upon as weird at best
and dangerous at worst, all in the hopes of getting the
majority of people to simply ignore them. Sometimes
it’s an accurate warning; there are many Grottos that
are hostile toward visitors who don’t follow their inter-
nal rules. But more often, it’s to help keep people away
from the realization that such micro-systems actually
do function without corp support. The last part of that
statement is the key part and one of the larger lies in
modern day Sol: the illusion that you still need infra-
structure to survive.
Sol is a post-scarcity economy that has been
carefully manipulated into one of perceived scarcity.
Between modern power sources and molecular printing,
it’s quite possible to create one’s own fully functional
grid to live on, with like-minded people, completely
disconnected from the greater mass of the universe.
You sacrifice a few perks, most new products and
services that may be offered exclusively to corptown
residents, but beyond that, you’re good to go. Better
off, even. As long as you have the mass to feed the
machines, power to run them, and a place to stand,
your creations can be as lavish and opulent as you
want them to be. Those first three conditions are a bit
of a tricky thing to arrange, though.
Printers with the ability to create architecture
are not conventionally available. They’re very large
and expensive and aren’t for general sale specifical-
ly to avoid people doing this sort of thing. Typically,
 only authorized sub-corps have them, and their
use is monitored by whoever the owning corp is.
But should you get hold of a Geomat of some
kind, by theft, gift, coercion, or whatever oth-
er means you arrange, you have a very powerful
society-crafting tool available. Not only can it build
your buildings, the Geomat’s own power source is
often substantial enough to run them all when it’s
done. This leaves you the task of finding actual
material to convert with it, and a place you can call
your own.
Finding a starting location is difficult and is
one of many reasons these Grottos are built in
GROTTOS
space or in hiding. Corporate eyes are everywhere,
and one or another has listed ownership of every
square inch of every populated planet in the so-
lar system. Carving into one of their mountains to
start building your society is an act of aggression in
every IRPF corporate contract and grounds for your
arrest and the confiscation of your equipment. This
blanket policy ensures that any new corptown that
emerges inside a megacorp’s sphere of influence is
controlled by them on one level or another. So from
the get-go, if you’re looking to cut ties with the big
names, you need to find somewhere they can’t see
you (or don’t want to look). Underground is popu-
lar, as are areas so remote or arid that it would be
too much trouble to stop you because the only people
you’re going to attract are people who are innately in-
terested in whatever society you’re building, and would
probably be a problem if left behind anyway. The need
to seclude themselves in order to avoid attention helps
perpetuate public distrust of Grottos. In corptowns,
privacy is nearly nonexistent. It’s not used to control
loyalty or language or lifestyle choices as is typical-
ly attributed to that sort of personal intrusion, but it
is used constantly to tailor products and purchasing,
let you know where you want to be, who you want to
meet, and otherwise facilitate consumer behavior. The
public generally views it as an asset (having never
been without it) and most find the idea of trying to
hide from the system to be innately suspicious.
Acquiring material is the final hurdle, and the
most publicly damning one. Geomats can convert simi-
lar materials into each other, forge steels and plastics
from collected minerals, and special ones can even
recycle harvested biomatter, but the industrial printers
can’t turn a rock into a salad. In order for a society to
run on a Geomat, there needs to be a fairly constant
source of organic and inorganic bolus to transform into
product and consumables by bio-processors, which are
similar machines specializing in the creation and re-
cycling of organic material. Depending on where your
Grotto exists, this could mean hunting parties to bring
in large animals to feed to the machine, harvesting the
local trees, or even cloning blank bodies expressly to
sacrifice to the processor, which takes advan-
tage of natural metabolism to help convert
other energy sources into outright bulk for
124 conversion. Corptowns have clean and simple
ways of handling these demands, and have established
infrastructure for collecting food waste, grown mate-
rial, deaths by natural causes, and all sorts of other
sources for restructuring in a collective bio-matter
“bank” that corps within the town can draw from. It in-
volves enough extra steps between start and finish that
the individual donations to the whole become pretty
unimportant, and individual bioconstructors in places
like restaurants purchase biomass in large, sterile, and
inoffensive cubes of protein that in no way resemble
whatever it is they were before. In Grottos, the society
itself usually has to nominate individuals to find the
materials the geomat and processors need for their
conversions, and that puts an identity on what’s going
in and a personal responsibility on who brought it.
Between these three necessities, there is more
than enough slanderous ammunition to properly taint
public opinion when it comes to living off the grid.
Grottos have reputations for recycling actual Vector
corpses into their bioconstructors and using merce-
naries to kidnap the misbegotten to be sacrificed for
biomass. They’re seen as vandals for using “legitimately
owned” corporate land to fuel their building needs.
They’re seen as idealistically worrisome because they
clearly don’t mesh mentally with the rest of Sol, and
they don’t keep the same level of open transparency
corptown residents are used to, so no one knows what
they’re up to in there. In short, when a large Grotto
is discovered by a megacorp and deemed to be a
problem, if for no other reason than them toying with
notions of electoral government or personal liberty, it’s
pretty easy to turn public opinion against them hard
enough to not incur much backlash when they’re taken
out of the picture. It’s for this reason that most Grottos
stay small, less than 1000 people, and do not openly
advertise their existences. If you find them, whether
by accident, invitation, or word of mouth, then you can
interact with them. Beyond that, they’re difficult to
just look up. In fairness, their reputations aren’t always
undeserved.
Story Concept: Mixed Loyalties
Having the party infiltrate or investigate
a grotto is a good way to influence their
oppinions of it, and pit them against the
oppinions of whoever hired them. This can
work in either direction. Having them come
from a grotto and discover that some of
their practices are actually worse than the
way the mainstream public handles it is just
as likely. In either case, upon reporting home
they may be faced with orders to assult
someplace they’ve come to care about.
Curious currency way, except for their actual popularity with a population.
There was no sense of prestige buying products gener-
In the early days, before the fall of Earth and ated entirely by computer, and no sense of personality in
the true breadth of their eventual responsibly was a store experience where everything was simulated. So
known, MarsCo combated critics to their control over while AI existed that could easily create a million new
a Martian base by establishing a sort of personal tax product lines in an afternoon, the population began so-
on automation. Their declaration was that rather than cially rewarding designers rather than nameless products
business owners being entitled to profit, citizens were produced en-masse. The people had greater pride (and
instead entitled to income; one sufficient to survive used greater buying power) in getting a design made by
in reasonable condition. The business could use this someone with a face.
requirement as a means to create its own profit, but The artistic fields currently pay higher than nearly
the imperative, the actual requirement, was that the any technical field in Sol with the exception of those that
population be paid. When put into practice, MarsCo deal in hands-on problem solving, personal danger, or
treated this as a sort of stipend the would pay the unique proprietary R&D. Design and personal publishing
citizens of their colony for every job that was subse- is a mandatory training field in most schools, and while
quently removed from the market due to automation. mathematics, science and technical skills are taught,
Retail positions, clerks, large numbers of assembly having a personal talent in them is thought of as almost
positions and so on that couldn’t be made up for simply laughably worthless unless it’s to such a degree as to
by training people to work in more specialized sec- attract the attentions of those who would have you build
tors. The public line was that, as technology improved, something a computer cannot.
this practice would pave the way toward an existence
where most jobs could be handled entirely though au-
tomation and people could dedicate their lives toward
other endeavors. It was a fine piece of marketing, but
when Earth fell it faced a tougher reality.
Centuries later, Sol uses a bastardized ver-
sion of this original concept. Many jobs that could be
automated continue to exist in the public sector to
avoid having to balance a debt to the populace that
was never truly settled in the hectic times following the
fall, and the stipend has taken on different definitions
in every corptown, with some providing a basic income
level, some providing barely livable quarters and a
base-line nutritional opportunity, and some offering
rewards to lesser corps to start programs of their own.
The Ledger itself, a miracle program developed com-
pletely by chance that supplements people’s loss from
micro-transactions by investing in those same transac-
tions for micro returns, has even been cited as part of
this service because it is technically possible to assist it
and generate excess income. Nevermind the fact that
without it, almost no standard income would offset the
cost of general existence. Just about every corptown
and presiding company has something it can point to
in order to claim it’s providing its citizenry with com-
pensation for opportunities it removes, but it’s never
glamorous, and a far cry from the original proposal.
In a curious side effect, as technology (partic-
ularly artificial intelligence and computer communi-
cation) improved in leaps in bounds, many of the high
paying technical jobs originally suspected to be the
areas humans would be handling personally became
much more efficient to automate. AI was developed
that could write code creatively, fluently, and instantly,
building better programs with fewer glitches without
need for an additional programmer. They could even
make better versions of themselves, and could coor-
dinate at extreme speeds with other thinking pro-
grams to collaborate over a variety of options. They
outclassed their organic counterparts in nearly every
 GROTTOS OF NOTE
Longbow
Longbow is among the most infamous Grottos
in Vector common knowledge, mostly because it’s
one of the few that’s rather well known to begin
with. Grottos are usually small and quiet societies,
but Longbow is a space station of substantial size
boasting an enormous population that is active-
ly killing each other, presumably for cannibalistic
food sources. It’s the sort of thing vid channels like
to do specials on from time to time, typically with
GROTTOS
eyewitness accounts and remote viewing, as it’s
rarely worth risking going there yourself. It’s not that
Longbow residents will kill you for landing there, it’s
that they’ll ransack your ship for spare parts and
upgrades, and leaving you with no way off. It’s a
jungle in there, and despite animal traits, most city
folk don’t function very well cut off from communica-
tion, help, or technology.
Longbow is a 5 some-odd mile long Bluesky sta-
tion that was commissioned by a budding megacorp
that overspent waaaay too much trying to build the
thing and was ultimately forced to abandon it near
completion. In an attempt to recoup the money, they
staged an elaborate attack on the station to claim
insurance on the wreck but were ultimately exposed
when the insurance group outright bought the mer-
cenaries who did the job and obtained their records
of the contract, proving the claim as fraudulent. It
was an expensive purchase, but it was nowhere near
as expensive as having to pay out a replacement for
the station, and they got back the money in the sub-
sequent liquidation of the corp. But when all was said
and done, there was still a giant floating husk orbiting
Jupiter owned by the insurance company, who had no
desire to rebuild it and no way to sell it in its current
condition. So they did what any self-respecting com-
pany does with hazardous and inconvenient trash: they
left it out of sight and pretended it didn’t exist.
The thing about a space station of that size is
that it’s very easy to cause horrifically expensive dam-
age to them, but very difficult to actually render them
uninhabitable. The gap between a total financial loss
and an unusable system is very large, hitting one end
long before it hits the other. Longbow’s sensor systems,
its orbital correction, huge parts of its computer and
life support infrastructure, all of this had been leveled.
It had holes in its outer hull, its boarding ports were
wrecks, and it was effectively unapproachable by gen-
eral colonists. But it still held enormous internal areas
with air in them, and small groups could get in, being
cautious about where they stepped, and begin slowly
setting up shop. The only thing that kept it from hap-
pening on a larger scale was its location. It would have
made a great place for a raiding band or pi-
rate society to set up in, but it was easily vis-
ible on the Jupiter orbital circuit to a variety
126 of well-equipped organizations (not the least
of which was TTI’s actual headquarters) and any sort of
large scale raid would mean flying huge distances to
Mars or Venus through the heart of IRPF territory, and
back again, to a location that was already well known.
But for those people looking to stay off the radar
entirely it held enormous appeal, and so the first of the
pilgrims began filtering in, and the violence came with
them.
Longbow claimed a lot of lives in those early
days. The station was huge, but only parts of it were
usable. Those who had aspirations to repair major
systems made for easy and attractive pickings, because
they were distracted and had expensive technology to
take. Good deeds invited attack, so those with the de-
termination to get shit done sought advantages they’d
normally do without. Laterals became popular com-
pany. Speed, enhanced senses, and a brutal approach
were all assets required to stave off opportunists. They
were literal guard dogs, and they worked on both
sides. Word filtered around through the tightly-knit
network of Sol’s lateral population that this place
was a rare job opportunity that had them living in a
different, oddly natural state, with fewer buttons and
ill-fitting chairs and more innate respect for their bod-
ies and abilities. It attracted more laterals, and spe-
cifically, more who had tired of being ill-fit for their
environment but were too poor or proud to have their
bodies replaced. Some of those laterals were techni-
cally inclined, and other laterals were more interested
in working with them than the bipeds they’d begun
to view as a liability there. Over the course of Long-
bow’s slow and partial repair, the population gradually
developed a kill-or-be-killed mentality that made it
unsafe for poorly equipped bipeds to stay there. Fewer
and fewer came, as there was gradually less and less
to gain from it. Tribes formed within the walls, and
gradually, the feral mentality longbow is now known
for grew from those seeds.
Actual life in Longbow is frightening and brutal,
but it has reached, over the years, a point of stability
that is appealing to its residents. In this place you live
as you wish, and if that interferes with someone else’s
wish, you kill them or you comply, and that’s pretty
much the way of it. Cooperation exists provided all in-
volved have something to gain from each other. Mutual
protection or repair of critical systems is a big one;
often, Longbow residents will maintain their ecosystem
together and attack those who prey on technicians
who are working to repair a broken system. Techno-
logical superiority has been kept down by the masses
to avoid escalation more, rather than because of any
social taboo. Killing is a constant by normal standards,
but it’s not as common as it seems. Longbow is almost
entirely wild inside, with a massive jungle and various
spreading biomes across its interior. A great deal of its
residents are not actually intelligent, but wild animals
that were brought over and bred both for food and
decoys. Cannibalism does happen, but isn’t necessary.
Most hunt the wildlife. Sometimes that hunt will expand
to other hunters.
 Longbow is about the purest “return to nature”
modern Vector society has. So much so that it’s actually
too pure, artificially so. The Vectors (not only laterals;
some other morphisms do manage to make it here.
Rarely past one generation, though) who survive here
have adapted their thinking to a distinctly ancient
standard and have maintained that standard because
it feeds them on a level that is almost invisible in mod-
ern society. It is not strictly necessary for them to live
this way. Small populations on Ganymede and Venus
exist in tribes and forgo technology for nature as well,
but they don’t engage in some of the depravities Long-
bow is known for. Here, your own will and the physical
power to back it up is the only thing you’re held ac-
countable to. All of its living residents are dedicated
to that way of life, and for good reason: those who
weren’t either escaped on a mercy ship, or died.
Today, Longbow is a bit of a legend, attract-
ing daredevils and social misfits alike (and usually
killing them). Longbow doesn’t send out ships of its
own, so it’s not considered to be a threat by the IRPF,
nor is anyone inside contracted for protection, so the
whole station is basically flagged as “hazardous” and
the public is advised to leave it alone. Trying to “civi-
lize” the place would be immensely difficult. No one is
entirely sure how large its population is anymore, and
those few who do leave on Progenitus’s mercy ships to
seek a more civil existence do not describe the popu-
lation as “suffering,” so any attempt to force them into
compliance would likely lead to additional violence. So
it sits alone and corporately undisturbed, the subject
of bloody horror films and risqué romance novels for
the entertainment of the masses, both of which pale
in comparison to the vivid fear and intensity of the life
within it.
Themes of Longbow
Longbow’s internal theme is pretty basic. It’s a
good place for a frightening rescue mission without
supernatural elements; it’s a neat urban-decay sci-fi
environment with jungles growing though buildings
that never got used for their intended purpose, and
natural dens mixed with modern elements. It’s a sort
of post-apocalyptic feral microverse with very high
stakes. Most parties don’t have a reason to come here
on their own, but some might be sent here, either to
negotiate with someone (there are Vectors here who
do business with the outside, but are risky and oppor-
tunistic predators) or to retrieve something. It’s worth
noting that there are friendly people on Longbow.
Quite a few, in fact. Families and tribes and friends
that have made space for one another in their system
and won’t try to eat you when your back is turned. But
they follow the law of the land, and that law is you
are what you are, and if what you are is a threat or
an obstruction, you die. If what you are is an asset to
a more powerful person they don’t want to risk oppos-
ing, you die. If what you are is a risk, you die. So make
yourself unobtrusive and your visit a brief one that
either contributes nothing, or contributes something
generically positive in a very small amount.
Longbow’s external theme is more im-
portant to the HSD setting in that it depicts
the nature of the megacorps that control Sol and
provides a more concrete example of them be-
ing controlled by selfish interest rather than moral
imperative. Longbow has a population in the hun-
dreds of thousands, and by comparison to similarly
sized cities, has a crime rate that is astronomically
high. Murders are commonplace, assault is an hourly
event. Servitude, slavery, assassination, rape, theft,
invasion, cannibalism, all things met with a stern
and immediate police response in a standard city
GROTTOS
are just the way this wildlife works on Longbow.
But Longbow’s population are still “people,” and
by the basic understanding of rights on a human
scale, should not be allowed to exist in the fashion
they’re existing in. But they do, because it would be
difficult and inconvenient to try and stop them. The
initial raids would claim tens of thousands of lives,
just to capture a population that may not wish to
leave, to try them for crimes that were considered
the laws of existence in their environment, and to
attempt to reintegrate them into a society they’ve
grown so detached from that they’d be an inherent
danger to. And to top it off, they’re all laterals, which
are already difficult to work into normal life. The fact
is, none of the megacorps are even sure how they’d go
about it.
Mental health care in post-human Sol has not
improved much since the loss of humanity. It’s even
slipped backward in places as pharmaceuticals and
wonder-drugs have made medical solutions ever more
attractive. Between the costs it would incur, both in
credits and lives, to vacate the station to begin with,
and the subsequent problems associated with accli-
mating its population to a normal life where attacking
someone you disagree with using your teeth isn’t an
acceptable response, there just isn’t enough profit in
the operation to try it. Only Progenitus really pays any
attention to Longbow anymore, and for them, it’s only
mercy ships sent on autopilot periodically so that those
people inside Longbow who can’t handle its environ-
ment might be able to escape back. But even for them,
the path to mental recovery is potentially impossible.
Therapy takes a back seat to behavioral inhibitors and
VR reconditioning, and what comes out is usually more
brainwashed than what went in. The party line now is
that all the natives that have been taken from Long-
bow have exhibited signs of brain damage already, ei-
ther from living in proximity to dangerous and unstable
power sources, or what caused them to go there in the
first place, and are best kept out of the public anyway.
It’s thought of almost like a prison of its own design,
and careful marketing has allowed those in charge to
ignore the suffering that could be taking place
there. Out of sight, as they say, is out of mind.
127
 The Empyrean
The space station Empyrean is among the most
prominent examples of corporate independence
giving way to a life of decadence considered
rather unachievable by the general public. Empyre-
an was founded by a blip named Zerrazed whose
impressive draconian visual appearance was part of
a tailored existence intended for him by his par-
ents. Unfortunately, both parents were killed when
he was very young, victims of a corporate coup,
and he was given their fortune as hush money while
their business was usurped and restructured. Their
plan for his upbringing was pre-staged and was to
GROTTOS
continue in the event of their deaths, but with their
capital under his control and flushed with disgust at
the society that allowed their deaths as just an-
other part of business, he relocated the entire plan
to a custom-built space station he commissioned
sunward of Mars and threw the whole thing into
overdrive, embracing the illusion in the hopes that
he’d never have to deal with the disgusting realities
of Sol again.
The plan, originally, was to have him grow up
as a celebration of the legends of powerful, lordly
monsters from Earth, with fine courts based on re-
spect and merit and needs filled by vast stashes of
wealth. Supposedly, the parents planned on replacing
their bodies once they’d finished working and joining
him as similar looking creatures, inviting family friends
to do the same and living the rest of their lives in a
Character Concept: Poor Adjustment
Recovering from a life on Longbow is a
difficult task, esspecially considering that
Vector psychological rehabilitation tech-
niques haven’t progressed nearly as far as
their general medicine has. A character
might cope with this by adopting strange
practices to satisfy the parts of their
psyche that have fixated on the violence
and fear of their past. Be creative with
it, it doesnt always need to be late-night
murder sprees.
sort of biofantasy world on Mars. Without ties to the
planet, he pushed it further, using the station’s Geomat
as the material goods generator and setting up lower
levels as trading hubs to keep the material coming in
while he and those tasked to help him by his parents’
contract transformed the upper part of the station into
an environment befitting divine beasts. As time went
on, the servants of his family earned positions with-
in the court of his creation and were transformed to
suit it, and he began extending invitations to
blips and natural Vectors with dramatic and
128 thematic morphisms to join him, forgoing the
tedium and the ostracism they experienced
in Vector society for a chance to shine in a society that
granted them social power based on a different scale.
It was a rocky start, but having the ability to
manufacture their own materials from the get-go
certainly helped, as did access to biomanipulation
tools. Over time, the rules of society solidified, granting
wealth and comfort to every tier of invited creature
and granting special boons and abilities to those who
worked within the system to achieve them. Among the
highest of these prizes was immortality through mind
transference into a younger body, the “ritual” of which
was named for his family, whose deaths left a lasting
fear of permanent termination in his mind.
The Empyrean has now existed for several
centuries and is largely controlled by the same people
who founded it. Its ranks have expanded, but it’s still
among the more exclusive of the established Grottos,
with only around 100 divine members (those invited
people whose appearance or circumstance has earned
them the title of divine being by the standards of the
society) and a few thousand hopefuls (those people
who serve the station in hopes of earning ascendance
into divinity someday). Of the divine monsters, only a
dozen or so have been enhanced to a tier befitting
what has been called “the pantheon,” on which Zer-
razed still sits at the highest rank. Those beside him
are called siblings, the monsters below are children,
and the hopefuls are held in different names and
social standing depending on which divine child they
serve.
The Empyrean is known among those who’ve
visited it as a jaw-droppingly beautiful location among
the divine levels. It’s built a bit like a tree with its
gravity generator at the bottom and great, branching
areas at the top, each with separate environments.
The upper levels get more and more sprawling and
elegant, and the creature designs get likewise more
amazing as there’s less to hold them down. You can’t
fill out an application to join the Empyrean, but they
dedicate a good portion of their actual work to scan-
ning reports and searching for potential candidates,
with either the appearance or behaviors that make
them seem suited for joining the society at the bottom
and working upward. This is one of the few tasks still
primarily overseen by Zerrazed himself, having begun
the process personally centuries earlier. One of the
charters of the society is that being a divine crea-
ture affords you divine potential, but it is up to you to
embrace it. In practice, that means that each monster
in the court is unique, without duplicate designs, and
that they are expected, at somewhat regular intervals,
to return to Vector space and do “something” worth
noting. These quests vary in intensity and length, but
Zerrazed’s own creation of a living society that has
endured for centuries is often held as the measure.
Successes and the scales thereof are used to help
determine if someone is ready to obtain a new gift,
usually in the form of dramatic and powerful surger-
ies. Within the Empyrean, the usual legal limitations on
things like strength and ability are ignored, and the
general body size is typically larger, on macro scales
or beyond, allowing room for truly impressive biomancy.
Themes of the Empyrean
Aside from just providing an alternate start-
ing location (your character could be trying to fulfill a
quest to earn a spot as a hopeful, for instance, having
contacted a divine monster and earned their atten-
tions), the Empyrean provides a zone to approach
some of HSD’s common themes from a different di-
rection. Here, biotech and mutation are treated more
like ‘magic’ and ‘blessing,’ and there are larger than
life entities to associate with and report to. It provides
a different sort of politic to work with. Additionally,
there are ways to associate with and even combat
these creatures outside of their homes. Pulse events
sometimes attract Empyrean divinity as competitors to
prove their mettle to their kin. Pulse loves them; aside
from being very powerful and visually impressive, Pulse
didn’t have to pay for their creation or training. Alas,
for many, Pulse towns are the few that they can actu-
ally be given permission to walk around in. For other
societies in Sol, these people aren’t within the legal
realms of “people” any longer; they’ve been enhanced
into bioprobes, and are too dangerous and powerful to
walk around unescorted.
The Empyrean also represents a possible out-
come of escaping corporate society. It’s a very extreme
example, but it worked, and the people living there are
living what many would find to be a dreamlike exis-
tence. It comes with a price, though. Aside from having
to keep their numbers down, and the engineered social
hierarchy that has kept the powerful at the top for
so long, members of the Empyrean beyond the hope-
ful level are pretty much ruined forever for returning
to Sol’s normal structure as anything beyond a Pulse
monster to fight. They have no money to speak of, no
way to afford a replacement body to bring them back
in line with everyone else, and no history with any corps
to set them off right.
The Long Now
Many human organizations have endured in one
form or another into the post-human age, but excep-
tionally few have maintained the same shape and goal
as the originals. In most cases, the closest are the old
religions, which have adapted to face new technology
and discoveries but tend to hold on to their original
values. Smaller organizations generally faded away
either due to a lack of membership (not everyone
made it off of Earth, and those who did were awfully
busy for a long time) or because of a lack of relevance.
Generally, whatever they were founded to do, propose,
fight, or educate, was burning millions of miles away.
But there were a few that gained substantial rele-
vance as Earth fell, and whose message would carry
forward into the future. Genetic preservation groups
that had “frozen zoos” were among those. Another
was a fairly small organization called The Long Now
Foundation, whose goal was to foster thinking that
would look not only to the immediate future, but
to a distant future some 10,000 years away.
When Mars was first struggling to find
its feet after Earth was no longer an option, there
was rampant fear that the technology that kept
the colony afloat may eventually fail them, and the
knowledge to rebuild it may die as well. Preserving
and archiving those technical manuals and all the
knowledge required to rebuild things like Geomats
from scratch was of extremely high priority, espe-
cially as the number of original engineers dwindled.
In those times, the colonists looked to those people
who had already put time and thought into sustain-
GROTTOS
able technology and archiving that would survive
for thousands of years, and organizations like The
Long Now and others boomed in membership as
dedicated scientists within the colony pledged to
ensure that life in Sol would continue without fear
of accidental losses of critical information. As the
organization grew, so too did its purview, and over
time new designs were engineered for critical tools
that were designed to run indefinitely, with no
planned obsolescence, ultra hard alloys, redundant
systems, and unheard-of durability. They were called
“forever tools,” and the prospect was that so long as
they existed in a vault somewhere, even if all manufac-
turing broke down, whoever was left alive would have
what they needed to rebuild a society. At one point,
the foundation even broadened their focus to adopt
sustainable biomanipulation, or the idea of self-modifi-
cation to make any environment livable, to further their
model for an eternal future by making up for the one
area that would fail before their machines would: the
operators. Presumably, with both these tools at their
disposal, nothing short of instant annihilation would be
able to prevent Vectors from continuing to flourish in
one way or another.
Unfortunately, once civilization did settle in
on Mars and the corps began generating the new
rules of society, these eternal structures and concepts
of endurance over replacement were...inconvenient.
They stood at odds with the hyper-capitalist model
that was developing, based mostly on replacing worn
out(or even fairly new) objects, recycling the mate-
rial, and constantly exchanging goods and currency.
Over time, pressure and propaganda pushed the once
publicly-lauded organizations like Long Now into a
smaller, niche area, treating them more like extremists
and paranoid, old fashioned idealists than protectors
of the future. Fashions and on-demand design made
their forever tools look featureless and outdated, and
eventually, the shifts of focus and the ever-diminishing
chance of cataclysmic social breakdown took them out
of the public eye entirely. But they didn’t stop existing.
They just moved, and evolved.
The current Long Now is a two-part
society living on an orbital platform in the
Goldilocks zone, which was originally grant-
ed to them as a storage facility that would 129
 be safe from any catastrophic meltdown on
Mars, but has since enlarged and become a
massive sustained ecosystem. The organization
has changed dramatically from its modest ori-
gins, but, appropriately ironically, its continued exis-
tence as a Grotto is proof of the success of its mis-
sion. The station’s internal population consists of two
castes. The first are those who simply live there, a
society of several thousand who are vaguely aware
of space travel and the existence of other Vectors
through legend, but lack the means to leave, nor
any real experience with the rest of Sol’s lifestyle.
They live in a natural and primitive environment, lush
GROTTOS
and plentiful with predictable weather, and have
at their disposal a collection of forever tools that
are scattered about their 200 square-acre surface
area. The natives exist purely to exist; their role in
the project is to prove that it works. The technology
they rely on to build shelter, to hunt, and to protect
themselves; the great machines (called golems by
the natives) that maintain the temples and patrol
the plains; the unique equipment they find buried
in the ground that allows them to do remarkable
things, all of it is some six centuries old at this point.
Still working, still doing what it was built to do. The
engineering is remarkable, and to the natives, ar-
tifacts like these are more eternal than the trees and
the dirt.
The second caste is smaller and carries on the
actual knowledge of the location’s origins and the
purpose of the tools within. Their job is to carry the
story onward and be ready if the solar system has
need of them. They listen to transmissions and watch
for change, and periodically bringing new members
from the natives into their fold and sending them out
into the solar system to join society and report back on
what they find. Once you leave, you can’t return. It’s a
one-way pilgrimage reserved for those with wander-
lust in their hearts, who look out at the stars and wish
to join them. They gain all that modern society has to
offer, but they lose what is perhaps the purest and
simplest existence in modern Sol.
Themes of The Long Now
This Grotto serves several functions in the
narrative, depending on which you want to focus on.
It’s an example of how a single message from the days
of humanity can carry forward to the modern era, and
also how much that message can change. It’s a neat
way to play in a primitive setting, or perhaps to meet
a voyager who would find all the normal things in Sol
new and amazing. If culture shock is a fun theme for
you, these are good people for it. The Long Now sta-
tion is a bit like Longbow without the violence. Things
are wild and free in there. The people exist in tribes.
They trade in food and favor. Clothing is purely
accessory and protection rather than a social
necessity. Reproduction and physical anatomy
130 are divergent from the Vector model thanks
to the biomanipulation concepts that were explored
centuries earlier, and the herds of sub-sapient ani-
mals that are hunted for food are actually capable
of birthing Vectors without Vector parents, and vice
versa, to maintain populations of edible and inedi-
ble meat in the event of scarcity, leading to all sorts
of strange family trees. The people are stronger and
more robust than the Vector template and would likely
be considered illegal bio-constructs if examined at a
modern medical facility. There are no Cogs. Tools and
items are treated with reverence and respect and are
all built to last. They have no idea how to tackle any
of modern society’s protocol and disposable tech and
would likely need guidance to succeed at all. They’re
basically dropped on a populated area by a small ship
dispatched from the station that converts itself into a
shelter and becomes their home until they can adapt.
All these differences can make for great character
conversations and moments in a game if you need an
NPC from waaaaay out of town.
The Digital Collective
Artificial intelligence and computing technology
in Sol is very advanced, more than many give it credit
for, or really realize. Cogs have existed among Vectors
for centuries, but the Cog brain model is physical-
ly unique; it doesn’t use “programmed intelligence,” it
uses mechanical analogs to organic brain systems and
learns like a living brain would. This does a convenient
thing from a social control standpoint: it allows people
in the advanced programmed intelligence industry to
dismiss moral issues of artificial life by pointing out
that their computer programs are mechanically differ-
ent from the established model for what a truly “alive”
machine looks like. It neatly avoids a pretty large argu-
ment over what machine intelligence deserves in terms
of rights and consideration, because for some time
now, it has been possible to create programmed intel-
ligence that’s pretty indistinguishable from the organic
version.
The Digital Collective is a fully digital society
that believes in the rights, needs, and overall moral
importance of protecting programmed life. Its mem-
bers are fully digitized brain-data, downloaded via
scan and uploaded into protected servers that serve as
the “home” for the society. Their living bodies, as part
of the initiation, are destroyed. It’s a rite of passage:
the Grotto recruits by following people’s online habits.
Getting a feel for what they do, how they act, and
their overall feelings toward the treatment of digital
intelligence in their world. They offer a paradise: a
fully simulated existence with no physical needs, and
interaction with a myriad of strange and alien intelli-
gence from all sorts of various programs and avatars
that have gained communicable levels of intelligence
and now reside within Solnet, invisible and lurking in
the data. Members can exist in the sim, but they can
also engage with data in a more direct way and gain
an understanding of machine interaction that goes
beyond what they interpret through organic eyes. And
while they associate with each other, their world is
even more populated by the various machine psyches
that live with them, providing a curiously more diverse
and alien lifestyle than the outside world could.
The Digital Collective is significant for many
reasons, but a problematic one is its size. People in the
collective don’t really “die.” Once you’re data, you stay
that way unless you get corrupted or are somehow
purged. Which can happen. People in the collective
don’t have “backups,” as the entire premise is that said
backup would be another person who is frozen in time.
But there are minds who have existed in this state,
floating through the nets, for centuries, and every
new one adds to the number. In addition, the machine
intelligences that is also present in this way are parts
of the society, often massive parts. The Digital Collec-
tive is a generic title for what is actually an enormous
collection of minds that exist essentially invisibly now.
Their population may well be in the billions. While
technically a Grotto due to it being a collection of
people living outside the norms of society, this really
qualifies as more of a mirror existence, and within it
are thousands to millions of different mindsets and out-
looks.
Themes of the Digital Collective
The Digital Collective provides a framework
for ghost in the machine plots, ideas of digital con-
sciousnesses manifesting where they’re not expected,
or guidance coming through digital sources from areas
you didn’t know existed. It’s a very all-encompassing
area, with opportunities for friends, enemies, villainy,
etc. The major things to keep in mind, however, are the
following: the denizens of the digital collective largely
don’t give a damn about the physical world provided it
still has power and computing centers (they don’t have
physical needs in general, so there’s not much point in
trying to trouble themselves with the outside), and the
people in the digital collective can be rather alien in
their attitudes.
One of the big reasons why this particular plot
point isn’t larger in HSD is the propensity to view it as
a sort of “Matrix” zone, where normal people go into
a holodeck-like environment and then return to their
normal bodies. There are simulation centers all over
Sol that members of the Digital Collective can basi-
cally put themselves in to experience that, and they
do, from time to time, but the bigger thing here is
that they don’t need to. This is really a different form
of existence and life. Things are no longer identified
by how they look, or their size, or anything to do with
physicality. Interpretation is different. Reach is dif-
ferent. Information isn’t abstract, and the things you
“think” are literally made of the same material as your
own consciousness. Basically, if you spend long enough
in this state, you’re not particularly fit to return to the
physical world. You change and become a different
sort of creature. Much like it is possible for a computer
program to perfectly mimic a human personality in
this setting, this Grotto is intended to demon-
strate Vector minds changing to be more in line
with what an intelligent machine might be in
a “natural” state. They don’t necessarily hold onto
their values. Many of those values just don’t matter
in there. Eventually, they look a lot like the AIs that
Vectors already treat with the same distance and
relative contempt that humans do: as neat, interest-
ing simulations, but not people, and easy to turn off
when not needed.
UNIVERSITIES
GROTTOS
The meaning of “university” transitioned from
a place of learning to a place of cult-like worship
after a series of troubling rumors emerged from an
education center in the early days of Mars’s coloni-
zation, post-Earth, but before humans died out. The
origins of that story have been lost to age, but the
general idea was that, at the time, there were very
few centers dedicated to higher learning on the
planet, and the most prominent one had become
shrouded in such a malaise that it nearly shut down.
It saved itself by rebranding, and the generic term
“university” gradually became more attached to the
troubled past than a cleaner future. Nowadays, higher
learning centers are called colleges, advanced schools,
capstones, and a few other names depending on lo-
cation and purpose, and university has solidified in the
public vernacular as something akin to a well-funded
cult. They’re associated with Grottos as both represent
something outside of the acceptable behavioral norm,
but universities are universally associated with violence,
danger, and the deliberate inflicting of such on the
public, whereas Grottos may just be things to be wary
of that keep to themselves.
The distinguishing detail is the need to force
one’s view on the rest of the universe. Universities are
known for attacking the public in large or small ways,
overtly or discreetly, to spread their message in a way
that can’t be ignored. It’s not an easy task, so they’re
also known for brainwashing, fanatical devotion, and
in some cases, body modification or extensive illegal
hardware to properly equip them for what they’re
trying to do. For megacorps, the existence of these
groups is more beneficial than detrimental. Yes, hav-
ing an angry group attack the public is a problem, but
even well-equipped universities are relatively minor
threats in terms of overall public damage. But they
give the megacorps a clear enemy to brand publicly
and lump them into the class name of “university,” which
can then also be applied to just about any group with
disruptive ideas. There have been more than a few
raids on fairly harmless Grottos that were beginning to
reach out to the public with messages of shared
resources and equality, and that were subse-
quently branded and stamped out. It keeps
the Grottos isolated out of fear of annihila- 131
 tion, which is beneficial to the corps in power. In
the end, while the public reputation of Grottos
and Universities is pretty significantly different,
the only functional difference between the two is
that a Grotto isn’t innately disruptive to the corpo-
rate regime, and a University is.
UNIVERSITIES OF NOTE
Reflection
Humanity, to most, is a forgotten trauma. But
there are some who still feel a degree of racial
GROTTOS
responsibility to at least acknowledge what came
before them, if not sympathize with it. There are
others, more dramatic individuals, who feel modern
day Sol owes a more direct debt to the universe for
its direct contribution to the extinction of an intel-
ligent species. Among the most extreme of these
groups is the university known as “Reflection.”
Reflection holds Vector-kind (and all other
species created by them) directly responsible for
the death of humanity. While they don’t contend
that Vectors went out and killed humans personally,
they do feel that humanity would have persisted
successfully, as they had for thousands of years, had
Vectors not entered the scene. Intent is not a factor in
their decision. Reflection believes in a more “universal”
system of blame and balance. Deliberate or not, one
intelligent race resulted in the extinction of another,
and must feel the weight, and ultimately bear the pun-
ishment, for that.
Reflection seeks to repay the debt of intelligent
death on a life-for-life basis, putting their overall goal
at close to ten billion by most historical recollections,
and including their own members in the count. While
universal conversion is the goal of most universities, the
level of self-destruction in Reflection is fairly unique. It
also makes them frightening foes to combat, as they’re
singularly dedicated to their cause and unafraid of
death. Some, specifically the Mirrors, no longer feel
fear at all.
Reflection engages in a unique and grizzly form
of lobotomy to create its primary combat force. It ab-
ducts Vectors and brings them back to hidden head-
quarters, where surgically trained and devoted mem-
bers or automatic doctors will physically saw the front
of the victim’s face off, from just behind the eyes down
to just behind the chin, resulting in a flat face, exposed
and damaged brain, and non-functional mouth. The
Vector is then fitted with a series of behavioral modi-
fiers that directly replace the damaged portions of the
brain and influence the remaining ones, with control
systems wired through a faceplate that is drilled into
the skull to cover up the exposed face. Its outward
facing side is a polished mirror finish, flat and
reflective. The damaged Vector is then fitted
with Vitae ports to keep it alive, and its body
132 is coated with the zero-spectrum solution,
which is a special paint-like substance that reflects
absolutely no light, resulting in a void-like black that
reveals no detail, even when directly illuminated. The
new creation’s tail is amputated, and the final result is
a pitch black, detail-less humanoid with a muzzle-less,
tail-less silhouette, more human than Vector-look-
ing, with a mirror-like face. The lobotomized Mirror
is fitted with mirrored blades on its hands and pro-
grammed to serve as Reflection’s primary killing force,
difficult to see and hit, chemically immortal, and mind-
lessly dedicated. Reflection agents will even employ
paint bombs with the same zero-spectrum paint to fill
rooms prior to the arrival of a Mirror. The result is a
pitch-black void where the target is brightly lit, but
all they can see is a floating, oval mirror that shows
them their own reflection as they’re killed. According
to Reflection’s rhetoric, the mirrored face shows the
Vector the same face that killed humanity, reversing
their roles in history and setting right what was wrong.
The most powerful entity in Reflection’s arse-
nal is a bastardized Gorgon-class bioprobe design
that was taken from a TTI scientist who joined their
cause. The scientist didn’t have the full genome for the
creature but was educated in biodesign himself and,
working with technologies Reflection already had, was
able to make a lesser template that was versatile and
relatively simple to reproduce without an enormous lab.
The creature is roughly the size of a short bus, with a
lion-like, stocky and gnarled body, enormous muscula-
ture and powerful claws, wings, and is generally de-
ployed with a human-like mask for a face. It could be
considered beautiful, but it moves with a maddening
jerkiness and savagery, its muscles throb and bulge in
an asynchronous rotation, and it leaks vitae from the
pumps that keep it running. It feels incomplete, dam-
aged, and comes off as a depressing echo of what
it could have possibly been. Which suits its metaphor
perfectly. Reflection calls it the Terminus Sphinx, a dark
echo of the first custom pet that began the cycle of
Vector creation and the ultimate destruction of hu-
manity.
One Terminus Sphinx is a deadly threat to even
a well-armed team, but the benefit of the messy, dam-
aged template used to create the creatures is they
can be built on the cheap. Nearly every major offensive
by Reflection will include one somewhere, and if they’re
given time to establish a foothold, it may include sev-
eral, which ups their threat considerably. It is a blunt
and angry instrument whose true threat is its resilience
and single-minded desire to end lives. Once deployed,
it is almost guaranteed to earn its cost in bodies by
the time sufficient firepower arrives to kill it.
The Harbingers
The concept of bio-superiority came into vogue
around the time the orca bioprobes were dispatched
to Europa. It was a very public affair, and TTI was
employing some novel science to make it happen.
The bioprobe concept was new, and these large and
powerful creatures could do all sorts of things normal
people couldn’t. Engineered pets were an old concept,
but even a custom griffin or dragon had fairly terres-
trial limitations. The bioprobes could exist without air
or atmosphere, could endure temperatures that sun-
dered normal flesh, could adapt radiation into energy,
subside without food, and do all sorts of other things
that, until then, had been considered beyond the realm
of biology. It put the relatively meager abilities of the
average Vector into perspective and gave way to a
phase of pop culture centered on the idea that bio-
science would eventually produce something entirely
superior to Vectors in every respect, contributing to the
race’s own destruction. As a rule, that’s a thing to be
avoided, and those industries in control of life creation
facilities face intense public scrutiny whenever they
produce anything more intelligent than a house pet.
But to some, particularly the people who eventually
formed the university known as Harbinger, this even-
tuality was not only something to be embraced; it was
something to be actively pursued, using some rather
troubling tools.
Harbinger stands out from other biotech uni-
versities because of its focus on transcendent ascension
over pure genetic manipulation. While they do quest
to make a better lifeform, there are a lot of ways to
measure “better,” and they don’t all mesh with each
other. A seemingly superior lifeform could fall apart
in the wrong environment, whereas “inferior” lifeforms
may have better coping mechanisms that weren’t even
known about due to never having been exposed to
certain conditions. The stumbling block in this case, at
least according to Harbinger, is that an engineered
lifeform can only be as perfect as the scope of its
creator’s understanding. Basically: you can’t build a
thing to be ready for a condition you can’t foresee.
It’s a frustrating situation, but as transcendent tech-
nology made its way into Sol’s view, secret members
of Harbinger who were involved in its research and
had access to tomes of knowledge kept hidden by TTI
forged the idea that it could be possible to create a
creature with transcendent abilities that would allow
it to actively reshape reality’s problems into things it
could handle. Based on research and ideology from
transcendent savant Taln Hiemdal and other discov-
eries found or stolen over time, Harbinger seeks to
create a form of life that not only outshines Vectors,
but can, in fact, outshine anything by reshaping reality
with transcendent technology to fit within the scope of
its physical and mental capabilities (or reshaping itself
to encompass all of reality) so as to never be disad-
vantaged. The creation of a God creature.
Harbinger’s methods are what put it in the
university category instead of just being a group of
eccentrics. They regularly build dangerous and unstable
life to test theories, they engage in horrific experi-
ments in transfusion and transcendent abuse to explore
their ideas, and their attention to safety is severely
lacking, which puts the public at risk when their results
go awry. And this is assuming that wasn’t the intent to
begin with. Harbinger’s goal precludes the survival
of Vector-kind, so they’re entirely unconcerned with
preserving and protecting that species currently.
Harbinger’s experiments have produced
a variety of horrifying entities that have proven
useful enough for the organization to keep around.
One of the more unnerving ones are the Wights.
A Wight is a subject (generally a Vector) whose
connection to all reality has been forcibly removed.
They’re effectively unstuck in cuil, and drift without
direction through every reality. The person that is
now the Wight loses all sanity, no longer a person
UNIVERSITIES
at all, just a shell with grim need. At their disposal
are transcendent abilities that stem beyond what
is available through implants and manifestations as
yet unmapped.
When idle, Wights are suspended in a state
of frigid immobility, like illusions frozen in place
that can’t be touched or manipulated. They just
hang, drifting, as the loose anchor holding them to
zero-cuil will not allow them the flexibility to leave
entirely, but also can’t hold them in place without
purpose. Their purpose, the only thing they continue
to directly desire, is the replacement of what was
taken: a sort of transcendent registry number that
defines all things. Without it, they not only have no
sense of self, the universe doesn’t seem to know what
to do with them either, so they exist and non-exist both
at once. Reassigning this value, whatever it is, requires
the input of things capable of sensation and interpre-
tation. This makes the Wights inherently attracted to
people, digital monitoring systems, anything that can
record, and anyone who has seen them. It makes them
fantastic guard dogs. If a Harbinger facility is invaded,
a Wight can stalk the invaders. It will solidify, driven by
a purpose that didn’t exist moments before, and it will
instinctively use its transcendent abilities to extract in-
formation from toggles, cameras, papers, pencils, off of
clothing, out of notebooks, and of course, directly from
the minds of its victims, in a futile attempt to rebuild
its own existence.
The process is violent, as the Wight will tear a
victim apart to extract all possible physical evidence
of its own encounter with it. By the time it’s done, as-
suming it wasn’t physically destroyed, it has killed the
victim, removed all digital and forensic evidence of the
encounter, left a completely sterile murder scene, and
traveled through the victim’s networks to grab any-
thing else they can find. Harbinger can dispose of the
corpse without any fear that something will be found
leading people back to them. The Wight, forever un-
able to complete its only goal, will return to the exact
spot it was made and go idle once again. Harbinger
keeps them contained in closed cylinders that prevent
them from being aware of observers when they’re not
in use and open them only when they’re needed. While
difficult to direct, in the right conditions, they
can also be frighteningly effective assassins,
and have been used in that faculty before.
133
 Reunification Front
There have been many small-scale attempts to
go back to a somewhat more democratic form
of government over the years, or at least one
that works more toward representation than dic-
tation. They tend to run aground against the same
obstacles: bad reputation and a lack of source
data. MarsCo and the other megacorps have had a
long time to tweak history, remove information, and
otherwise unmake the definitions of human govern-
ments, and they’ve been very successful at it. Pres-
UNIVERSITIES
ently, there are no reliable public sources that can
be referenced for proof of a successful representa-
tive government existing in a way that benefited its
people, and all the rules and behaviors that humans
learned over time to make those systems successful
are likewise not around to reference. This creates
two problems: it means that someone trying to make
a working democratic system needs to essentially
start from scratch, inventing all the checks and bal-
ances on their own, and it distracts people from the
reality that, with Sol’s actual technological abilities,
many of the things people think are essential for a
working government actually don’t need to exist at
all anymore, if you restructure everything from the
ground up and do away with the values that cur-
rently power the reigning system.
This is a very large pill for the public to swal-
low. Things in Sol run pretty well, all things considered.
People claiming it can be done tremendously better by
utterly rewriting what’s currently in place are treated
with skepticism, if not outright ignored. If a function-
al model existed with a large enough population to
reference, it would be different, but even the more
publicly interesting Grottos are usually too small, too
remote, or don’t do things on a large enough scale to
be applicable to a true planet-scale society. At pres-
ent, there is only one that does, and great care has
been taken to paint it in extremely negative tones.
The Reunification Front is a society whose goal
is the complete destruction of every corp, mega or
otherwise, and the removal of those who are abusing
construction and resource technology to perpetuate
the idea that successful society relies on the exchange
of currency. They seek to reform the solar system into
a unified government with regional representation
and a generous allowance of production for individ-
uals to produce whatever material needs they desire
within their stipend, which, ideally, would be equal for
everyone and allow the ability for people to donate
portions of their supply to others to fuel larger projects
based on voluntary public support. It is a new currency,
in a way, but one they feel is fairer, with ample al-
lotments for a living and only extravagance requiring
a donation. Merit, then, becomes the token by which
wealth is measured, presumably leading to a civiliza-
tion in which those who strive for greatness are
fueled by those who wish to see them achieve
134 it, and those who chose a simple life are free
to live it comfortably without fear of it being
taken from them.
It’s a utopian view that relies on a substantial
deconstruction of existing society, a massive reliance
on technology, and the belief that the idea can work
in the first place, which Vectors are trained from birth
to believe is not the case. And in the years since the
Reunification was founded as a Grotto, attempts to
peaceably persuade areas to try the system out have
all met with failure and often violent opposition by
those who would lose their superior social standing
in it. In recent years, however, the Grotto has shift-
ed gears, renamed itself the Reunification Front, and
adopted a distinctly more direct methodology. With
peaceful attempts repeatedly leading toward violent
ends and wasted effort, they’ve ultimately decided
that to incite change on the level necessary to make
the grand plan work, it will requires the direct removal
of the things preventing it. Many megacorps already
considered the Grotto a threat just based on its ideals.
Now, they’re earning the title they were already sad-
dled with.
Reunification Front forces are typically clad in
MarsCo gear or their own knockoffs of it. It’s part of
the message and serves to show that the “little, misled
and inferior” university can produce the same grade
of advanced military gear that the megacorps claim
costs and requires enormous resources and labor to
create. The corps control the narrative, so it’s very easy
for them to skew what people see in their own favor,
but the enemy wearing and repeatedly arriving at
conflicts in equipment that supposedly costs millions to
produce is difficult to spin. In larger sorties, some corps
will even destroy their own equipment in order to claim
it was stolen by the Front. Other times they can just
twist the context and capitalize on the fact that large
attacks happen rarely. While the Front is capable of
producing advanced military hardware, it’s limited by
its available designs and the actual hard materials
required. Making a ship, for instance, may require the
same sized program as making a couch, but the rare
raw materials needed for its construction do require
more time to refine, and its individual systems all need
to be designed from scratch unless originals can be
stolen. They are limited by population, essentially. It’s a
flaw they feel will resolve when their mission is suc-
cessful, but it’s often used against them in daytime TV
debates staged to make them look worse.
The Reunification Front’s social experiment is
primarily located on Mars, deep within the under-
ground tunnels formed by the terraforming and con-
nected primarily through communication rather than
location. Splitting into smaller cells helps keep them
from being found and collectively destroyed and also
allows for joint construction projects from different lo-
cations to be assembled at a third, which helps reduce
the chance of a primary print system being found via
tracking of the deployment of a large force. This seg-
mented society is also part of their social experiment,
with the idea that different areas would have slightly
different local laws, subservient to a global higher law.
From within, it’s difficult to tell if the utopian dream
is really accurate or not. The ongoing fighting has
changed what was originally an establishment intend-
ed to lead by example to one that aims to beat its
opponents into complacency, and it’s led to a harsher
culture. Progress feels more forthcoming than it used
to, but there are many who wonder if the cost will be
the goal itself.
Renewal
Sol looks to be a dynamic and ever-changing
setting from the street level. Every week there’s a new
model of something, a new form of entertainment, or
a new place to see and experience. There are fleets
moving about and stations being built and long flights
out to the edge of the solar system to gaze out into
the abyss. It’s a busy place. But it’s also a consumer illu-
sion. Sol is actually a technologically stagnant environ-
ment from the base level. Things improve, new things
show up, but with the level of technology and knowl-
edge at Vector disposal, they should really be pushing
the envelope further than they are. And many want
to. But new technology changes the status quo, and in
the case of advancement of this level, it could change
it in ways that established society could not adapt
to readily, or at least, not while keeping in power the
people who would like to stay there. And with wealth
and power as all-encompassing as it is, they’re pretty
capable of curbing the development of things they
don’t want to exist.
Renewal is a society of individuals, united in
purpose and intent but not location. They are essen-
tially assassins who share the ideal that their own lives
are less valuable than the removal of the perpetrators
of this stagnation effect. Their targets are the wealthy,
the powerful, the silent CEOs and officials who push
Sol’s current operational method and prevent innova-
tion of new and important technologies that will drive
change in Sol’s society. They believe Vector-kind should
be further along than it is, branching out into the gal-
axy and joining the other races that are no doubt out
there in grander unions. Their war isn’t necessarily with
corps in general, but with the idea that to maintain
the present, you must sacrifice the future. It is the duty
of society to advance, and the duty of those in power
to adapt to that advancement, not prevent it. To this
end, they will kill and be killed.
The ultimate destiny of every member of Re-
newal is to die in the line of duty, generally by trading
their lives for that of a priority target. Naturally, this
isn’t the way they begin their career, and most mem-
bers will have several successful assassinations before
they take on the one they’re sure will end them, but
the exchange of life for life grants them an enormous
degree of power that allows them to succeed where
other, more conservative attempts would fail. Essen-
tially, by removing all illusions that you will be coming
back from this attempt, you’re free to do things with
impunity you would otherwise suffer consequences for.
You can take out enormous loans for travel, knowing
you won’t be around to pay them back. You can ap-
proach well within security zones in public areas
to assure a clean kill knowing that your capture
and subsequent termination is irrelevant. You can
hijack, kidnap, steal, or otherwise unlawfully obtain
any devices you may need to accomplish your goal
without regard for the criminal sentence you’re ac-
cumulating. It frees the mind to focus on the singular
goal of the kill. It’s even more effective when paired
with what the society calls “Ultimatums”, trained
assassins with no previous reputation or criminal
UNIVERSITIES
history who have been schooled in secret for the
express role of a single operation. With no history
of criminal activity and no red flags, their detection
by law enforcement when they begin their first and
final operation is nearly nonexistent. The only line of
defense the target has at that point is the assas-
sin’s own lack of preparation. Typically, that defense
is inadequate.
Renewal is a small society. It’s very difficult
to train killers in secret without a large organi-
zation to hide behind, and harder still to find (or
brainwash) people so dedicated to the cause that
they’re willing to make the necessary sacrifice.
Recruiting is usually done by word of mouth through
already established contract killers, feeling people out
for what motivates them until suitable operatives can
be found. Operations are done under a common flag
but in small, isolated cells so that none can expose
the others if they’re captured. Jobs are distributed
through special officers who don’t engage in contracts
themselves, limiting their chances of detection. They’re
among the few who know of multiple cell identities
and locations.
Renewal agent assets vary based on the indi-
vidual, but they generally stress stealth and infiltration.
The brute force approach rarely outmatches what a
high priority target can summon up in defense unless
you’re willing to cause extreme collateral damage in
the process (which some are, and have, in the past).
Moving in quietly, undetected until the point of strike,
has historically proven most effective. They’re also one
of the few university agencies with a relatively low
impact method in terms of overall violence. It is Renew-
al’s belief that change and progress is a natural state
and will resume on its own when the forces that are
blocking it are removed, and the removal of said forc-
es is best achieved by the surgical amputation of key
support individuals as they emerge until the structure
collapses. Despite killing fewer people per year than
die in completely random acts of violence in a month in
a crowded city, they remain an extremely high priority
threat on IRPF and other watchlists. Not surprising, con-
sidering the people in charge of those agencies are
among the more likely targets.
135
SILENCE
Many inconsistencies exist in the
Vector historical account of the end of
humanity, but the end result is pretty
solidly set: humanity died, Vector-kind
did not, and the universe proceeded
accordingly. And to the modern civil-
ian, that’s all that really plays into their
everyday life. But if any of the misin-
formation would really catch them by
surprise when brought to light, it would
be the actual scale of the conflict and
the agents involved. When the conflict
began, it was on a much smaller scale
than is published in Vector history. What
ended with the termination of an entire
species began with a single corporation
of moderate size and was escalated by
a collection of a few dozen people, who
were essentially angry they got snubbed
and were too far from home to feel
threatened by it.
The war did escalate and bring
more bodies and more organizations
into its fold, but the catalyst of Vector
creation was much more influential than
is generally perceived. History says the
war was mostly about freedom against
a doddering old regime that wanted
to stifle progress and advancement.
Modern day Sol actually stagnates
technology vastly more than humanity’s
Earth was recorded as having done.
And while some of the messages of
MarsCo’s historical renditions are true
enough, its provocation is altered or
omitted, particularly in the creation
of the Vectors. Also omitted are the
actions of several involved corps to
attempt to legitimize themselves as
a collective sovereign nation. MarsCo
depicts this as a merger, which is a
relatable concept to modern Vector
society, but at the time it was a collec-
tive secession from national control and
the offering of rewards and support to
those who joined them.
Silence explores many of the
things that came out of the war and
have actually persisted into modern day
Sol in a way that has current conse-
quences for the players. It will also give
you a relative comparison for who
in the universe might know this data
and how you can incorporate it into
your games. It’s important to note,
however, that like the information
stated above, this exists primarily
to give you an expanded palette to
craft your own narrative with, not
to dictate how you should play your
game. It is a book full of inspiration,
elaborating on the secret stories
in the main rulebook to give you a
destination or direction to steer your
players down. You may choose not
to stick to it if you have an alternate
destination in mind. Go for it. Part
of the beauty of tabletop games is
their lack of locked programming,
enabling you to change things as
you will. But to progress the pub-
lished story at all we need a bit of
established reference, and this is
your guide for getting in on that.
Silence is more loosely struc-
tured than its counterpart Sound, to
allow for a bit more of a narrative
delivery. This is primarily to preserve
a little of the HSD setting’s mystery
while still delivering answers to most
of the major questions. You’re not
going to find every encyclopedic
detail in here. For one, they don’t
all exist. For another, creating them
is part of the goal of your personal
narrative. These stories were left
out of the core rulebook originally in
order to give players an opportunity
to wonder, conjecture, and invent
explanations. Many of those will be
put to rest here, but by intent, not
all of them. Think of Silence as a list
of secret ingredients. It is possible
to craft an HSD story without any
of the information in this book and
have it run fine, but having them
can give you an edge that will open
up a whole host of new angles
and ideas for spicing up what you
already had, or making something
new. It’s not intended to be the only
recipe. It’s intended to enhance the
meal.
MONSTERS
In the beginning
Before the Hydra launch but after the war
had gone nuclear, Terra Firma faced a problem. They
were out of money, out of resources, out of troops, and
frankly, running out of options. Turning to nuclear arms
had put a clock on the war; it was eventually going
to have to end or there wouldn’t be a planet left to
salvage. While the united earth government had a
definite advantage in arms, there was a dilemma when
it came to targeting. Their enemy was tiny. The largely
digital armies of the corp towns they were fighting
could be run by a relative handful of people (and
often were) in a well-hidden bunker deep underground,
where even the most devastating attacks weren’t doing
sufficient damage. The strikes would level their cities,
hurt their population, and damage their morale, but
it had little effect on their ability to make war. Even
destruction of the local infrastructure wasn’t terribly
effective, as subterranean Geomats were laying new
lines deep underground and tapping into systems orig-
inally placed there specifically to be protected against
this sort of siege. At this rate, they would be able to
continue fighting beyond the point at which there was
nothing left to fight for. A new kind of weapon was
needed in order to make the old weapon more effec-
tive. Or, rather, a new kind of soldier.
There is a fundamental problem with train-
ing commandos to fight in a fallout environment: they
tend to die before they get there, or make a lot of
noise on the way. Irradiated and bombed-out environ-
ments meant the already dwindling supply of ground
troops either had to risk their own contamination when
attempting a stealthy infiltration or wear protective
equipment that was counterproductive to a clandes-
tine operation. But the need for an elite infiltration
system that could traverse the wastes was paramount,
and Terra Firma knew it. Just as the deep bunkers and
small, secret forces of their enemy were their strength,
it could also be their weakness if a force could slip
into their fortresses unnoticed. A cave is a grave to a
well-prepared enemy, the saying goes. The trick was
finding the things and getting into them, while not
being seen, bombed, shot, irradiated or otherwise pre-
maturely terminated.
The idea of a “super soldier” wasn’t exactly
new. Science fiction aside, the concept of enhancing
previously existing assets goes back as far as giving
armor to the common footsoldier to make them more
survivable. But making new soldiers from scratch, that
was a forbidden fruit. Until the Vectors were created,
and the war started, and the lines of morality got a
little wiggly.
One of the major catalysts for the initial
conflict was the refusal of Earth nations to recognize
Vectors as citizens. When the war had begun, the
reasons were pretty varied: some had been apologetic,
claiming their nation simply lacked the resources and
space to host a brand new population that hadn’t
been factored into their growth rates and economy.
Others had been somewhat more damning, claiming
the creatures unnatural and as such not entitled
to what were generally considered innate human
rights. The justifications were all over the board,
but the general consensus was “no one asked us
if we wanted this.” In fairness, it was an accurate
claim.
By the time the big bombs were falling, the
only people still left in the shooting war were the
ones who had nothing left to lose, or who cared so
much about their position that they had solidified
MONSTERS
it as inalienable fact. On this particular issue, that
“fact” was that a created creature, like a Vector,
was inherently less than human, or at least need-
ed clearly stipulated legislation to ensure it never
encroached on humanity’s current position. Interest-
ingly, once that point was accepted, it opened up
a brand new realm of possibilities when it came
to making use of the technology, and the far-off
fantasy idea of a scratch-built supersoldier became
a whole lot closer.
The Vector generation systems were on
Mars, far out of reach, but the science used to
make them was built off the first custom pet exper-
iments down on Earth. They had long ago been confis-
cated when the initial custom pet line was condemned
to death, and it didn’t take much to get them running
again. Staffed by loyal civilian biotechnologists and
military scientists, the problem of rooting out the ene-
my in a blasted, toxic wasteland was put on the table,
and designs for new forms of life began to take shape.
The irony might have been amusing, had the circum-
stances been different.
THE MONSTER PROGRAM
The drafted outline consisted of over a dozen
different species within a singular, scratch-built fam-
ily. They ranged in size from house cat to human to
beyond elephantine and were designed to fill roles
from infiltration to bunker-busting. It was to be the
ultimate secret weapon and had a lot of advantages
over conventional weapons when the moral implica-
tions were ignored, the biggest being that they grew
up, which meant they could be “born” in small facilities
that wouldn’t attract much attention, and that the
actual materials used to make them wouldn’t be on any
watchlists the enemy might have, as they didn’t corre-
spond to any mechanical weapon.
Only three of the Monster designs possessed
human intelligence, and of the trio only two saw actual
use during the war. One, the Wraith, would eventual-
ly come to be known as Palemen by Vectors centuries
after their creation. The other is also alive and
well on Mars, but the Vector population isn’t
aware it ever existed. The remaining mem-
bers of Monster never saw combat during 141
 the war, but most would come into their own in
the centuries after Hydra’s fiery arrival.
BUILDING A MONSTER
Every member of Monster shared a custom
family type, specifically designed to cope with a
post-nuclear Earth, where the enemy was fighting
a hidden war of bunkers, information, and sneak
attacks.
Radiation was the first hurdle to overcome, and
pretty much blew the lid off any attempts to make
MONSTERS
the new creatures look human. Human skin compo-
sition (and with it, texture and coloring) were not
compatible with a need to ignore the damaging
effects of fallout. To the designers, this was more a
boon than a detriment: it meant they now had free
reign to adjust other anatomy away from a human
constant to better suit the new creature to its job.
Or creatures, as the case was. Dozens of different
creations were designed over the course of this
project, each designed to fill a different role. The
enhanced flesh and bodily tissues of the new crea-
tures could process radioactive air, food, and water
without harm, which already gave them a profound
advantage over humans in terms of long-term, inde-
pendent operation.
For the infiltrators, the creatures tasked with
rooting out enemy bunkers in fallout zones, bipedalism
and an adherence to human size was still a necessity.
The creatures would have to use human equipment
and operate in human environments, but they could be
given a few helping hands to assist them. Prehensile
tails with sufficient length and strength to function as
powerful limbs and hanging devices seemed benefi-
cial. There was the issue of sitting, but these creatures
weren’t intended to be idle often, and there was an-
other solution in development that would render that a
moot point anyway.
Each monster had a specific role to play, and
for the Wraiths, which were the land-based intelligent
Monsters, that role was infiltration and assassination.
They were given a modified cartilaginous skeleton
that would provide strength and flexibility. Their joints
were given sliding connections to allow them to slip in
and out and spin completely around, and their internal
organs took a page from cephalopods, able to squish
and move without damage. The result was a creature
that could contort itself out of almost any restraint,
move with unnatural grace, and squeeze between
objects mere inches apart. By controlling their inter-
nal musculature, they could seal wounds from within,
tourniquet their own internal bleeding by rearranging
the damaged organs to press against one another, and
use every limb with equal dexterity so as to never be
caught in an indefensible position.
Vision was a unique challenge when it
came to the Wraiths, and it underwent sev-
142 eral revisions before the final eye design hit
the slab. Continuing the theme of allowing the crea-
tures to be functional regardless of position or situa-
tion, the first challenge was to give them vision in all
directions at once. Careful neural design allowed them
to process information from individual eyes located in
a variety of areas around their bodies, from the back
to the shoulders to the face, to ensure they could not
be snuck up on and increase their ability to search
through rock and rubble. The eyes themselves were a
gem of bioengineering, with low-light enhancement
and a unique prism-like lens in the iris that granted
depth perception out of a single eye without the need
for a pair. The depth perception was somewhat less
than human norm, but it was still there, and training
could more than make up for the lack. Hearing was
augmented as best as could be managed, but the de-
cision to make the ears devoid of any external molding
like that in a human model was made in light of many
a scientist’s bad childhood memories of sticking their
heads through bars and getting them stuck behind the
ears. Seeing as how the Wraith had been built from
the ground up to do precisely that sort of action, it
seemed wise not to give them vulnerable outcroppings.
Which made the inclusion of the cranial horns a little
curious, but they served a much greater purpose.
The original plan was to have the spines as
sort of “anchors” for specialty made equipment, so the
Monsters could put on specifically designed helmets
and have them stay in place in the correct orientation
immediately upon being worn, rather than fumbling
with a chinstrap or adjusting sizes. The cranial horns
were not hard like a rhino’s horn; they could wiggle
and move back and forth and were covered in flesh,
almost like pointed fingers without joints. By integrat-
ing touch controls into a Monster’s helmet anchors, they
effectively had a whole other hand with which to scan
menus, bring up statistics, target and report, or acti-
vate any other helmet system they wanted to, without
making a noise or having to use their hands. It worked
rather nicely, too. But only three of the Monster spe-
cies were designed to be smart enough to make use of
such a system, and only one of them would be reliably
wearing a helmet during deployment. The practical-
ity of the head-nubs was a bit of a rocky point when
it became clear how often the Wraiths would be
discarding armor altogether for the sake of greater
mobility, for instance. But their primary function was as
an antenna for a fully unique system in their brains: one
that allowed for telepathic communication.
Telepathy was always an ability that made
theoretical sense: the brain does interpret electrical
signals sent to it by its senses. The problem was the
senses themselves. Human brains have no organ associ-
ated with broadcasting those signals through the air,
and no organ designed to snag those signals out of
the sky as it does with sound aimed toward the ears. A
transmitter and receiver, as it were. The Monsters were
invented with both such organs. They were intended to
allow them to communicate without the use of sound or
gesture, which would give them away in an infiltration
scenario. It ended up being an even greater asset than
that. Using mental impulses allowed for the transmis-
sion of more than just language, which made communi-
cation faster, more precise, and allowed for the inter-
pretation of abstract ideas. With this ESP, intelligent
Monsters could coordinate efforts in three dimensions
in real time, without speaking, making them amazing
stealth operatives. The range was limited to around
100 feet in the air, but it was more than enough.
Voice and observation were critical for the
infiltration roles the Wraiths specifically had to play.
The nice part about fallout was it necessitated the
use of full body suits, which the Wraiths could steal in

MONSTERS
order to infiltrate corp bunkers. Doing so successfully
would require a very convincing act, though. Perfect
pitch control, perfect mimicry of body language,
and the ability to pick up on body movement
and quirks with just a few minutes observa-
tion. That last one had a double purpose:
with perfect muscle memory, they could
better use unfamiliar equipment by mim-
icking the actions they’d seen other people
do.
Piece by piece, the Monster
archetype was assembled. It was
granted special muscle tissue
that could facilitate a power-
ful metabolism, allowing for
operation in hot and cold
environments, quick movement,
faster healing, and an array
of other survival traits. Wraith
bodies were built long and thin,
taller than the human aver-
age by nearly a foot,
which granted them
proportionately
larger muscles
and longer reach
while still mak-
ing most equipment
wearable. When all was
said and done, the final
designs sat on the computer screen and
awaited programming, and the second step of
their unnatural creation began.

143
 UNNATURAL BORN KILLERS explore “why.”
The eventual solution consolidated a lot of
problems into one and addressed them all simultane-
The most difficult task associated with the
ously. The Wraith was given a “bonding period,” where
creation of an intelligent lifeform is what to do
its brain was little more than an information sponge
with it when it comes out of the tank. It’s one
with no concern for comfort, self-preservation, or any
thing to give a construct human-level intelligence.
of the usual behaviors associated with childhood.
It’s another to teach it like a human. By all rights,
Things like calling for help when hungry, crying when
that process takes 15-20 years, and taking shortcuts
cold, even concerns about comfort or stress, were all
tends to result in problems later on. Humans had
thrown out the window. It didn’t apply to the utility
enough “instinct” to seek out a breast for food and
creatures and living tanks, but all of the intelligent
curl in tight to keep warm, but that was essentially
members of the Monster project were 100% dependent
where it ended. Their power came from learning,
MONSTERS

on constant assistance from a caretaker during their

and creating connections in their minds while they
growth stage, which was mechanically facilitated to
did so. For the Wraith and its ilk to be truly intelli-
ensure all their needs were met, as they couldn’t ask
gent soldiers, they too would have to learn. Because
for things themselves. With no concern for their en-
some of them did have to be thinkers; they had
vironment and utter trust in their needs being filled,
to understand technology and tactics, had to be
their minds were free to absorb incoming information,
able to outwit their enemy and uncover their secret
which could be fed at a vastly accelerated rate since
locations from available evidence. There was really
their mental map was a known quantity. The technol-
no way around it; even just making them aware but
ogy used to “teach” them would be adapted centuries
stupid undermined the entire operation. They were
later after being recovered by MarsCo into the mod-
going where humans couldn’t follow them, and it
ern day Neuroplex, which takes advantage of a similar
was important they knew what to do when they got
“programming mode” in Vector brains, but in its initial
there.
faculty, it was only usable on the manufactured minds
But there were obvious concerns associat-
of the monsters for which it was developed.
ed with creating a race with human intelligence
Data was force-fed into their brains, things like
specifically built to hunt down humans in environments
mathematics and logistics, history, and tactics, poured
where humans were disadvantaged, and the design-
like water into minds that could do nothing but ab-
ers were more than a little concerned about it. Up till
sorb it. It was effective, for the most part. The monster
then, the actual end results of bioengineered people
could be rapidly educated in all the general functions
had not been involved in human combat. Vectors were
it would need to survive in a matter of weeks, and it
not a part of mankind’s war, even if they had been a
retained the information remarkably well. Best of all,
major catalyst in starting it. This would change that,
because the information was devoid of a learning
and the implications needed to be considered, to, say
context, it left them dependent on the wisdom of their
nothing of the logistical issues associated with teach-
human caretakers to tell them how best to use it and
ing core concepts in a short enough time to make the
when, which gave them an innate need to stay at-
monster useful, like how to make them combat-ready in
tached to the people who were watching them, after
less time than it took a human baby to learn to crawl.
the fact. The process would have been a tragic failure
Instinct seemed like the thing to exploit. Re-
had the project been attempting to make “people,” as
flex motion and instinctual movement, like the little
the monsters clearly had what could be classified as a
commands that make a human child raise its fist to its
host of social problems, but it was rather perfect for a
mouth when it’s hungry or bring its hands to its face
creature you wanted to breed loyalty into.
to soothe itself, or to grasp a finger, were already
being manipulated in order to grant the non-sapient
members of the Monster project a set of beneficial
behaviors. Those same instincts could be used to make
THE OTHERS
the Wraith quicker to train. They could recognize the Wraiths made up one third of the intelligent
shape of a weapon and hold it naturally, or know how trifecta of the Monster project, and were intended to
to brace the butt of a rifle, or how to properly cradle be masters of infiltration and targeted strike on land.
a handgun so it sighted well. They could have a natural The third member was called Dragon, and never saw
affinity for closed-in, cave-like areas, such as the hall- completion. It was intended as intelligent support for
ways and vents and cracks in the shattered landscape the siege creatures that were also included in the
that might scare a normal person away. They could project and sought to combine weight and power with
recognize a doorknob as a thing to be turned, or keep agility and limited flight in order to dominate open
track of their progress through a ruin. Through manip- battlefields. By design, they were damned good at it
ulation of all the little “hints” evolution gives, the too, but internal concerns over their wide operating
Monsters could be properly suited for doing range and visibility stopped them from launching with
exactly what they were built for, while still the first two creatures. It was decided to give Monster
144 giving the learning members the freedom to a “trial run” before letting loose something that could
be easily spotted by
enemy spies and blow
the lid off the shadow
operation. Which left
creature 02.
Undersea cabling was an issue
during much of the war. Both sides
needed it, which made it a high priority
target and a critical defense point. It
was difficult to lay while simultaneously
defending it, and harder still to defend
while already submerged, as it would
be at risk from the actual fights them-
selves. Taking a page from the dolphin
mine-seekers of WWII, the second
monster was planned as an undersea
detection system that could
not only find cable and
sub-sea information
systems, it could also
work submerged and
fight where humans
couldn’t, with intelligence and dexterity.
The second intelligent Mon-
ster breed was given the working title
“Selkie,” as a point of irony in terms of
their own rather profoundly dangerous
abilities next to the comparatively weak
selkies of legend. Their telepathy had
an even longer range than that of the
Wraiths, extending for miles underwa-
ter. Their undersea agility was amazing,
their depth and range were substantial,
and they could even operate on land for
limited periods, removing any chance
of escape for ship-borne prey. Selkies
were even more physically powerful
than Wraiths, but there was a much less
innately obvious reason for their existence
hidden below the skin.
Selkies were designed both as
a military asset and as a breeding
control mechanism. The original plan
was to simply make the Wraiths
infertile and to clone new ones
when replacements were
needed, but that would
rely on the complex
and sensitive equipment
used to create them in
the first place to make
more. If the facility was
destroyed, the entire
project would be wasted, and Terra Firma’s enemies
had proven very adept at hunting down critical loca-
tions and disabling them. Instead, the designers keyed
the Wraith’s reproductive abilities to Selkies and vice
versa. Convenient, as neither race knew the other ex-
isted.
Both monster species possessed a binary
gender (though very little in the way of gender
dimorphism) and contained much of the same
biotechnology anyway, so the idea was struck to
make it so both species could only reproduce with
each other, rather than among themselves, as a way
to control their population. It was a plan with mul-
tiple layers: the Monsters would be told that they
were missing a critical pheromone for fertility, if
the question ever came up. They wouldn’t know any
better, and should they couple amongst themselves,
MONSTERS
it would certainly appear that way. But when the
human element of the equation decided it was time
to breed new ones, subjects could be brought in for
reproductive donations, separately, and newborns
could be born in test-tubes. From an observation-
al standpoint it would appear as though the
pheromone claims were real.
It had the elegance of lab-level control
without the worry of spontaneous failure if a
site was lost, or the security risk of spreading files
and actual “secret pheromones” across multiple
sites (as the only special technology this method
actually needed was a tube suitable for growing
a legitimate conception in, fairly common tech at
this stage). It ensured that in the event of rebellion, a
raid on the “breeding facility” wouldn’t actually give
the Wraiths anything they could use, as it was a front
anyway. It saved on maintenance costs and logistics, as
all the chemical components were being manufactured
by the two species naturally, and it was easy enough to
harvest the required reproductive material in medical
environments because both entities had the same level
of innate trust in their human caretakers. And since
the two species had nothing to do with each other,
they’d have no reason to ever interact. Wraiths were
hundreds of miles inland, far outside any
remote contact range with their waterborne
counterparts. It even had the benefit of
being scalable. Working with artificial genes
meant they could be tailored to allow for close
breeding without mutation or defect, which
provided asset security in case some large scale
attack leveled most of the population and it had
to be rebuilt from just a few members.
Between preventing both species from increas-
ing their numbers on their own and forcing them to rely
on mental programming and specially regulated nutri-
tion and care during their brief but extremely vulner-
able “childhood,” it was determined that both breeds
of monsters were unlikely to be able to persist without
willing human assistance. They were given a lifespan
of 50 years, all of which was functional seeing as how
they covered the first 20 of human life in a matter of
a few weeks, and the first batch was approved,
stamped, and produced in the winter of the
first year of nuclear war.
145
 SIX MONTHS
They were effective.
Wraith and Selkie teams were small and their
application careful, but Terra Firma experienced
no real problems with their manufactured mon-
sters during their initial operation. They could get
where humans couldn’t, through rock and rubble
and radiation and heat and cold, deep water and
inky black. They were smart, cunning, and quick, and
they hunted out their prey like specters in the night.
Having just one of the Wraiths in an underground
MONSTERS
bunker facility was a new definition of terror. They
knew how to hide, how to sneak, and how to ma-
nipulate fear and paranoia. They could operate
independently for extended periods, were loyal to
their handlers due to their rapid “childhood,” and
they didn’t mind the work. According to their fast-
track education, this was what they were made for.
This was “satisfaction,” and they were quite satisfied
with their performance.
Underwater, the Selkies became ghosts in the
black, even harder to pin down. They operated at
depths where most subs didn’t rely on windows
for sight (and as such, were never noticed before
it was too late). They could identify their enemies
from miles away, and they didn’t leave survivors to tell
the stories. Right up until the end, cable-lay teams and
hunter subs knew only that Terra Firma had created
some sort of horrifying stealth weapon that struck with
perfect accuracy and no warning. Eventually, it stopped
being worth the attempts. Losing expensive submarines
and facilities was all well and good when you were
trading kills with the enemy, but the Selkies could down
ships and undersea complexes without ever providing
any indication of what the enemy should be looking for.
It was only Terra Firma’s own fear that kept the
Monsters in check; had they just built them en-masse
they could have conceivably rooted out their enemy in
less than a year, but they were so damned efficient it
was considered too big a risk to let too many of them
roam free at one time. So the population was small
and tight-knit, and they worked closely with their train-
ers and their designers, and fighting a secret war not
even their enemy was truly convinced was real.
The age of monsters lasted only six months
before Hydra brought its own fiery end to the con-
flict, and the entirety of the event never made it to
the MarsCo historical archives. Vectors are generally
taught that corp-based electronic warfare caused
repeated malfunctions in launches and essentially
“fought back” against Terra Firma’s advances, but the
reality was far less equal. Terra Firma would strike
once, obliterating infrastructure and topside defenses,
and send the monsters in to mop up the bunkers below.
It was efficient, required a minimal expenditure
of nuclear arms, and ensured total obliteration
of resistance in a given area. This, combined
146 with a loss of trans-oceanic and satellite
communications, was the true catalyst for the eventu-
al use of Hydra. It was also why Hydra had so many
warheads to work with. Terra Firma made liberal use
of the weapons, but dramatically less than recorded
history has led the Vector population to believe.
In the meantime, the creatures themselves were
learning and growing. The rapid teaching mecha-
nism combined with the instincts to map, search, and
observe had an unexpected side effect: it made the
monsters curious. They sought out new input, scouted
ruins, collected objects and expanded their knowledge
both factually and philosophically. It was a troubling
development, but not entirely unexpected. Much of the
brass on the upper portions of this project had thought
of the creatures as a bit more ‘disposable’ than they
actually turned out to be and hadn’t considered how
their personalities would evolve and grow after they
survived multiple missions. Within the first month of use,
all of the monsters were veterans of a dozen different
operations. They had attitudes. Humor. Anger. Even
friends among the humans that worked with them. And
enemies. They were recognized by many in Terra Firma
as comrades-in-arms, for better or for worse. They had
nearly constant contact with each other through their
telepathy, which led to thousands of hours of conver-
sation. The whole situation was far more social than it
had looked on paper, and as the counter-offensive was
looking good at that particular time, the question of
what was to become of them after the war was hard
to keep quiet.
SALVATION
Humanity was denied the opportunity to really
address that particular problem as Hydra began the
systematic obliteration of the planet, but the Mon-
sters themselves were rescued from annihilation by the
sympathy of one of their creators: Dr. Sarah Schneider,
who gave the Wraiths the secret to their reproduc-
tive system when it became clear to her that her own
bunker had been infested by whatever it was the corps
had unleashed on the planet mere weeks earlier. Even
at that point, global extinction was looking pretty like-
ly. Hydra was painting the world in overlapping, sys-
tematic blankets of destruction, and the Wraiths and
the Monster project was the closest thing Sarah had
to a legacy to leave behind.
She decided autonomously to give them a
chance at continued existence, and along with tell-
ing them about their kin in the sea, she gave them
the training programs they were taught with and
the known operation locations of the Selkies, so that
they might have a chance to locate each other. The
Wraiths set off across the scorched earth, making use
of the underground where they could time their land
routes over previously hit, irradiated areas where they
could safely travel and humans could not, in search of
the fabled other half of their genealogy.
This was the darkest time for those still on
Earth, a time when surrender had failed and com-
munication had broken, and no logic seemed to
guide what was happening. Loyalties and patriotism
felt pretty trivial, by then. Dr. Schneider aimed to
give her progeny the world they’d been built to
dominate, and at her final signal, the gene vaults
of the research facilities still networked deep un-
derground opened and unleashed Earth’s new resi-
dent population, which tore off unrestricted across
the landscape and gorged on sustenance only they
could eat. All but the Dragons, which remained
vaulted. Personal preference, perhaps, or a desire
to not complicate the hierarchy of intelligence. For

MONSTERS
whatever reason, they alone remained unborn, and
Wraiths and Selkies would eventually become the
dominent sapient beings on the planet.
Mars eventually received some semblance of
the Monster project, though a great deal less than
its total. Dr. Schneider beamed her work skyward
to preserve it for the future. She didn’t send ev-
erything. Research, yes, but not the reports of the
creatures themselves, lest they be hunted down.
Much of the data was lost or destroyed in transit,
but what remained helped head-start Neurop-
lex technology, various telepathy systems and
experiments, Nublood development, mental
engram programming, and unbeknownst to
her, provided Hydra with its route to the
red planet. Hydra attached aspects
of the programs related to its use
and discovery to the trans-
mission so similar conditions
could be repeated on Mars.
The tag-along files were
strange and unsorted, and
they were filed away until
dredged up during the
third Vector expansion
and applied to the owls
by a pair of scientists
that knew not what
they were meddling
with.
Wraiths and
Selkies did, eventual-
ly, find each other. It
was a slow process
though; humanity was
burning, orders were
scattered, and ideas
like “friend” and “foe”
were falling apart. Much of the hierarchy which
had been aware of the monsters to begin with
had disintegrated, and within the first year of
Hydra’s rain of fire, both breeds had adopted a
mentality of evasion. The new monster sub-breeds
that were rapidly making their way across the
nuclear wastes had already ramped up sur-
vivor paranoia, and anything that saw them
tended to shoot first. It was only due to their 147
 initial programming that they didn’t actively fight
back, out of uncertainty of who they were fight-
ing. Future generations of the monsters would not
be so discriminatory.
The ocean was a moderately safe haven, as
Hydra was largely ignoring it in order to cover
the ground more efficiently. It wouldn’t save sailors
from the eventual radiation storms and lack of any-
where to make port, but floating bastions of society
existed in the oceans, grasping at the hope that the
nightmare would end soon. To avoid them, Selkies
clung to the coastlines, using the clouds of radiation
MONSTERS
there to keep them safe from human encounters
while they tried to figure out how they would fulfill
their own mandate of survival without accidentally
destroying the humans they’d been taught to pro-
tect. It was there that they picked up on Wraith te-
lepathy, made contact, and began to learn the full
story. Already unable to safely approach humans for
support, the Selkie teams joined with the Wraiths
and began the slow process of trying to figure out
how to persist as a combined species in the clouds
of fallout while humanity tended to its own fate.
Vectors are taught that Humanity died from
the bombs, and it’s a largely correct statement
when the resulting radiation, temperature fluctu-
ations, and other side effects from the war are con-
sidered. But humans are nothing if not adaptable,
and pockets of the species survived long past the four
years of Hydra’s attack. Many of those pockets would
reach their ultimate end at the hands of new genera-
tions of monsters, which felt none of the innate attach-
ment to their progenitor species the originals had.
LIFE WITHOUT HUMANITY
The breeding issue was simple to resolve: once
both species knew of it and each other, the rest was
just anatomy. The real trick was solving the education
issue, and it eventually resulted in a rather remarkable
form of “parenting.” The adage “it takes a village to
raise a child” was actually true in the case of these
creatures. Newborns were cared for in 24-hour shifts,
constantly being fed information telepathically by
teams in order to keep their minds stimulated. Their
nutritional needs were provided by others according to
the schedules they’d received from Dr. Schnider in the
information she provided before her death. It took ten
Monsters working in rotation to accomplish what the
old breeding tanks did automatically, but it worked,
and within about a month a newborn would be “pro-
grammed” in much the same way the originals were,
ready to take on the world. Over time and generations,
the combined monster race would learn which parts of
the process could be left out and which parts needed
to be emphasized, and they would adapt the
curriculum to match. By the time Vectors en-
countered their first Paleman, the species had
148 developed a newborn curriculum that need-
ed only four parents instead of ten and had dropped
nearly all of the loyalty and dependence programming
to promote personal exploration once the child moved
past their nutritional needs phase.
The non-sapient members of the Monster
project had not been so carefully regulated in terms
of breed and spread, as they were only intended to
be built in enough numbers to tend to specific opera-
tions anyway. Their numbers grew rapidly, and before
long a makeshift ecosystem was appearing. It was
savage and feral, but functional, with monster feeding
on monster while creating more of each other in an
explosive period of growth facilitated by the relative
bounty of consumable material the bombs had left for
their adapted metabolisms. For the Wraiths, this was
at once a problem and a solution. The monsters could
be influenced telepathically and provided better food
than scrounging.
From some 20 years after the bombs fell to
nearly 400 years after the war, the monsters of Terra
Firma’s war-fueled genius roamed the planet in a pre-
cariously maintained “balance” of hunt, kill, reproduce,
and repeat, with Wraiths as the dominant predator in
the food chain thanks to the asset of intelligence. The
system ebbed and flowed over the centuries, going
through a massive growth period shortly after the war
and eventually dipping considerably when the numbers
culled themselves. The creatures were never meant to
coexist, and required constant observation and inter-
vention on the part of their intelligent members to
keep their large numbers in line. When Earth’s unpol-
luted food supplies rebounded, the Wraiths began
culling the monster population to allow the surviving
native species a chance to rebound with it (and to
make life simpler for themselves in the meantime). From
above it all, Luna colony was observing what appeared
to be a “natural” mutant population decrease over
time, unaware of what was facilitating it. Vectors still
believe the monsters they saw in telescopes came out
of hemi-vector “accidents” and are unaware that their
presence actually allowed not one, but two, intelligent
species to flourish after the war. At least, on a public
level. It is possible that, at the time, small numbers ob-
served it and were subsequently silenced. The existence
of large scale human survivors would be difficult to
suppress, but the existence of a small population of un-
knowns would have been more convenient to cover up
than to release and bring up questions of entitlement
to the planet.
COME THE RED
When the Whispers appeared on Earth, the
balance of power shifted dramatically. This new crea-
ture was swift and cunning and had terrific numbers.
It hit harder, moved faster, and was the first bipedal
creature the Wraiths had ever encountered that could
outperform them in combat. Being physically out-
matched was nothing new; many of the monsters that
now roamed Earth were stronger than they were, but
the Wraiths could out-think them, or influence them
telepathically. The Red were not so mindless. They
seemed devoid of communication, uninterested in con-
tact, and lacked any visible signs of culture or emotion,
but they moved like sapients. They planned, trapped,
ambushed, and fought with technique that showed far
more thought than simply slashing at wild. And to top
it off, they were endless. Wraiths had bolstered their
numbers considerably over the past 500 years, but
there was no driving force in their genealogy pushing
them to reproduce, and many died before ever doing
so. By the time the Whispers arrived, there were fewer
than 50,000 Wraiths on the planet, with roughly double
that in Selkies. Both numbers were cut in half within
the first ten years of the Whisper incursion, while ob-
servers on Mars were still unaware of them.
The monsters needed technology to fight this
new menace, and they didn’t have the means to make
it themselves. Personal attacks, even coordinated ones
en-masse did nothing but feed them bodies to convert.
The drive to create, build, and otherwise “daydream”
was not inherent to Monsters. They were designed to
survive, and they had established a system to allow
them to do so, but this new creature demanded far
superior weaponry than what was available. The time
had come to tap into a new resource.
The monsters were aware of Vectors. For one,
they could hear them. Vector-kind had been beaming
radio signals toward earth for centuries. Beyond that,
Wraith history did still include the events that led up
to the war, as well as all the artifacts they’d retrieved
from various bunkers. Their general reaction had been
to keep them off of Earth, on those few occasions
when they had attempted to land. There was an inher-
ent distrust there, fueled by generations of story and
education, and culminating in the tremendous raid that
destroyed the human recolonization attempt (see Mas-
ter’s Voice). Now, an attempt had to be made to bait
them back, but not give away who was making the re-
quest. There was no telling what sort of reaction they
would receive from direct contact, and every reason to
believe it would be negative. As was their nature, the
monsters worked through trickery, and launched the
first spacecraft from an ancient bunker under its own
power, like a fishing lure. Their catch was better than
they could have hoped for.
Infiltrating the landing teams refreshed a
skillset that hadn’t seen use in hundreds of years, but
had only been made keener by Earth’s wild existence.
Wraiths snuck in everywhere, avoiding witnesses,
contorting into cracks and bulkheads, and filling the
walkers like an infestation. Most of them were preg-
nant females showing signs of Selkie children. It was
the only way to get the critical seaborne part of their
population into space. It was this necessity that made
them stick to the landers set to return to Mars and
Venus and avoid the Luna one entirely, as there was
never mention on the radios of a terraforming opera-
tion there that would have resulted in an ocean. It was
a lucky choice, considering what happened to the
colony mere days later.
The Wraiths themselves were unaware of
the bloodborne presence of the Red on board
their borrowed ships, and witnessed the erup-
tions personally from their hiding areas as the
ships approached their destinations. When the
Whispers ran out of Vectors to emerge from, they
consolidated into their solidified structures in the
cargo holds and waited for the opportunity to split
and strike again. The Wraiths had empty halls and
opportunity, and loaded into the escape pods. Only
the Mars-bound monsters would arrive alive, as the
MONSTERS
Venus-bound ship was destroyed in-flight. It wasn’t
much of a beginning, but it was enough. The first
population of Selkies was born on Mars in secret
not long after the arrival, and began a small but
functional operating population that would grow
and expand cautiously over the next century.
When the Wraiths first left Earth, they had
done so in an attempt to find ways to leverage
Vector technology to their advantage in order to
save their own home. But as Earth’s moon shifted
orbit through forces unknown and the Red began
building their tether to the stars, the tides shifted
and broke, and the oceanic ecosystem began to
collapse. “Saving Earth” as a place to live wasn’t really
an option anymore. The focus shifted toward trying to
find a way to secure a mass rescue, either through the
theft of a large fleet, or through some other exploita-
tion or manipulation of the assets at hand. And re-
cently, after generations of waiting and building their
numbers, their opportunities are beginning to coincide.
Palemen in the Universe
Palemen make for great specters in the night
and a fun infiltration and stealth nemesis should a
plot require one. They also tend to have questionable
motivations from the player standpoint, which can be
good for throwing people on, or off, track. Generally,
the base motivator of all Palemen is to work toward a
means of not only rescuing the remainder of their kind
from Earth, but also securing their existence afterward.
There are many different routes toward accomplishing
this, and Palemen teams have split up all over Sol to
work in ideally-sized groups for accomplishing what
they feel the best plan is. They do maintain communi-
cation with each other, and, due to their communally
shared childhoods, are remarkably close-knit as a so-
ciety, as evidenced by the fact that they are still quite
dedicated to their lofty goal of evacuating earth de-
spite them now being some three generations removed
from the original Palemen that landed on Mars.
The current plan, and the one that has the
most support, relies on the exploitation of the Master’s
Voice phenomenon and using it to take over the
fleet currently being assembled for a large
scale attack on the Ruby Spire on Earth. It
will provide them with ships, crew, and a
149
 means of controlling both. A lucky break, consid-
ering they arranged neither. Success will likely
result in the deaths of all the Vectors involved, as
they’ll have to be left behind on Earth to make
room for as many surviving monsters as can be
collected, but from there they can take over just
about any station they want to call home and de-
fend it with one hell of a fleet. It’s a functional plan,
but there is a sticking point over timing.
Taking the ships before the strike seems wis-
er, as it ensures the most number of ships for the
actual evacuation and will allow a rapid approach
MONSTERS
with minimal Whisper alert; however, the reason
the fleet is being built to begin with is still an issue.
If the Whispers are as widespread a threat as
these corps make them out to be, allowing them to
actually perform their attack may be in the best
interests of the solar system as a whole. While there
may be ways to take the ships and then agree to
use them in a combined assault at a later date
once they have actual bargaining power at their
disposal, there is always the concern over just how
much the Whispers do or don’t know about what’s
going on around them. It’s possible that one mas-
sive approach toward Earth is all anyone will ever
be allowed to get, and ruining it to save their own
kind only to get subsequently destroyed by the Red in
a retaliatory strike isn’t advantageous to anyone. The
Palemen are proceeding cautiously, and trying to stay
apprised of every new development.
Selkies in the Universe
Though a powerful and frightening fighting
force in their own right, considerable care has been
taken to hide Selkies from Vector detection, and to
date there have only been a few encounters, none of
which made it to the record. Selkies have few roles
to play in the current conflict, as naval warfare is not
a factor and there aren’t many underwater facilities
that are critical to the task at hand, but their value to
the race as a whole is still paramount. They’ve taken to
existing in hiding, and there are a great deal more of
them out in the Martian and Venusian oceans than one
might expect.
If and when the actual ship abductions take
place, Selkies will have a critical task: the disabling
or capture of anti-orbital battleships. Many currently
floating battleships aren’t designed for ship to shore,
but rather ship to space, with cannons so large and
powerful that mounting them on land would result in
shattered windows and fractured walls for kilometers.
Placing them on a ship allows them to relocate to most
firing lines around the world and use their weaponry
with clear lines of fire and no local destruction. They’re
a critical local-orbit defensive entity, and will be a
danger if the fleets around the planets discover
their infiltrators.
If you want to incorporate Selkies in
150 your own game, they make good hidden sab-
oteurs. The Selkie MO is to engage without being seen
and leave no survivors so as to avoid further investiga-
tion or witnesses. It doesn’t always work. So far, Selkies
have benefited from the fact that there is no histor-
ical information about them available to reference,
so sightings are often explained away as mistakes or
bioprobes. Aquatic Vectors have granted this breed
a new opportunity to make themselves useful through
the exploitation of underwater computer technology,
but there is debate among the ranks as to the risk vs.
reward of that. While it benefits the Monsters to have
more operatives working at any given point, keeping
the Selkies hidden is imperative to their continued
existence as a species. Were Vectors as a whole to
ever become aware of their existence, they would
have a much easier time hunting them down in the
oceans than humanity ever did. Aquatic technology has
progressed considerably in the past 700 years, due in
large part to a significant population of Vectors living
underwater.
Dragons in the Universe
The Dragon Monster type exists as a story
opportunity for Guides who choose to use it, rather
than making it a clear and present object. There are
none currently living, but it wouldn’t take all that much
to activate them should a story call for it. A hidden
bunker perhaps, or maybe their code came over on the
data stream that carried Hydra, or a secret smuggling
mission to Earth picked up one of their sealed birth
units. Take your pick. Aside from being a frightening
foe physically, the education systems built for this par-
ticular breed would instill them with ideals based on
the orders of Terra Firma, which would make them as
close to mentally “human” as can be in the game’s cur-
rent age, as well as giving them a pretty stilted view
of Vectors. They are an unopened doorway for plots
should you wish to explore them. Otherwise, they may
have a role as yet unplayed in the overall story of Sol.
Duality of Purpose
The Monsters are a very tight knit, communal
society that operates over a very large range. Their
upbringing and telepathy instill in them a certain
dependence on family and community as well as an
attachment to the values that are instilled in them
when they’re being taught as infants. It’s for this reason
that the Monsters in space still have such a clear and
present concern for the mission of liberating their kin
on Earth despite being several generations removed
from them at this point.
 However, dutiful or not, most of them do want
to have some form of “existence” for themselves at
some point in their lives. This usually takes the form of
accepting secret assignments via anonymous contracts
taken online, so they can pretend at having a working
relationship, or, in rare cases, with actual contact with
people they assess as “safe.” The idea of a safe con-
tact took a long time to establish, but careful observa-
tion of Vector behavior did eventually set up criteria
for contact, and the understanding that some people
really could be counted on to keep a secret. These
friends among common society are invaluable, and
the Monsters will usually go through substantial and
concerted efforts to preserve and protect a genuine
contact made in peace. The payoffs of having someone
who can move openly on the inside far outweigh what
would be gained by betraying them. Selkies are more
common contacts in the digital realm than Wraiths are,
as they generally have more time available to travel
the data streams and look for potential allies.
The wiggle room between loyal friend and risk
to the species is one of the larger points of contention
among the Monsters themselves, and on more than one
occasion, an ally who got too loose-lipped has been
killed by other Monsters rather than put the collective
whole at risk. Sometimes, they kill the contact on their
side as well. Even within these ranks, there is a degree
of hierarchy.
 MASTER’S VOICE
The human aural-resonance effect is one of
the larger lingering discrepancies between what
Vectors are taught about history and what ac-
tually occurred. Many have guessed at its origin,
usually with conspiracy theories about “human mind
control” and other similarly farfetched concepts of
built-in slave protocols that look all the more ridic-
ulous next to the fairly cut-and-dry ending of the
human species that’s passed on in the history books.
Which, by and large, is why it doesn’t get looked
MASTER’S VOICE
at very often. Over the centuries it has become the
“Atlantis” of historical research. Most have simply
come to accept that it’s a curiosity in the genes and
nothing more, and people who try to dig deeper
into it are generally thought of as wasting their
time. After all, even if it WAS some sort of human
plan, it’s not like they’re around to make use of it
anymore.
The major reason why the Master’s Voice effect
is so perplexing is because it doesn’t seem to actu-
ally -do- anything. When exposed to human singing,
Vectors become placid and calm, but are otherwise
still “themselves” and remain aware of their sur-
roundings. Experiments with suggestion and manipu-
lation have shown that a Vector under the influence
of this effect is more susceptible to commands and
orders, but there’s a pretty logical limit to it. They
can’t be told to kill themselves or other people, can’t
be made to empty their bank accounts, etc. They may
be more susceptible to doing it willingly, but no more
so than being a bit drunk. On any given year, there
are a dozen reports of young Vectors playing human
music to dates to get them woozy enough to be open
to physical relations, but that’s about as sinister as it
gets. When you consider the work it must have taken
to craft the behavior into the genome to begin with, it
seems oddly underwhelming.
This is because Vectors, as the whole, are only
aware of half of the Master’s Voice equation. The
other half is the actual “program” portion, which must
be administered separately from the song. The music
can be thought of as a trigger: it activates whatever
“program” has already been placed in the brain. For
most Vectors (all, essentially) there is no such program
sitting in wait, so when the music plays, they enter an
execution mode with nothing to execute. Their mind
vacates a little bit and they more or less take a back
seat to their surroundings, sitting in an aura of pleas-
ant feeling that is actually designed to soothe their
subconscious so they don’t actively rebel against what-
ever it is their nonexistent program wants them to do.
However, if they had been preprogramed cor-
rectly, that conditioning would activate with the music,
and they would execute their commands with
blissful singularity of purpose. This could be
anything from suicides to murders to flower
152 arrangement, and is a closely guarded secret
by those few who know about it, as it would mean
social chaos if it hit the public.
Historically, only a few genuine situations like
this have actually taken place in the post-human Sol
system. Most recently, it involved an underwater mu-
seum and a criminal named Janus Sandival, who un-
covered the secret through years of amassing human
research and died trying to protect it from a threat he
couldn’t name (*Eon contract). His research showed that
the programming primer could also be encoded audi-
bly, but would require somewhat more direct structure
than just “singing.” This event was largely covered up.
Others have greater public notoriety, but go unrecog-
nized due to the factors involved. The most infamous of
these are the mass suicides on Europa that are tied to
Orca bioprobe involvement. Most believe this is some
form of telepathy or otherworldly influence, but in real-
ity, the Orcas are simply manipulating a feature that is
already a part of Vector minds. How they’re doing it,
or how they found out it existed, remains a mystery.
SILENT HISTORY
The other component that makes the origin of
the Master’s Voice hard to research without public
scorn is the mystery of why it would be needed at all.
By all accounts, Vectors were pretty amiable with their
human counterparts on Mars after the war. It’s difficult
to cite a specific event or decision that would have
led to the implementation of such a profound control
device in their design based on the stories that have
survived from that age. The explanation for this is sim-
ple: history is wrong.
Like most history, the facts are invented by the
victors. When Mars was struggling to find its feet in its
early days, the human population was fairly substan-
tial, and there was no particularly innate desire within
Earth’s refugees to drive themselves to extinction. Vec-
tor history claims that the human population of Mars
diminished to nothing over the course of the next 150
years or so, either because they converted to Hemis or
were rendered sterile by the nuke that hit the prima-
ry Mars colony, or their numbers in general were not
sufficient to maintain a thriving populace without sub-
stantial cloning. With scattered records from that era
in general, the story has always been sufficient. There
are very few who would speak on behalf of a long
dead and largely forgotten race in the common era
anyway, so it’s generally left alone. In reality, humans
were prevented from reestablishing control by certain
key individuals in a quiet war behind closed doors, be-
gun with the discovery of code within the Vector mind
designed to make them subservient to humanity if the
need arose.
The Master’s Voice response system wasn’t
implemented into the Vector genome until the Omega
generation, which is one of the reasons it went publicly
unnoticed for so long. The new hybridization-adapta-
tion that replaced the gen-1 mutt-reduction protocols
in the rest of the Vector population gave the Omega
generation creators a unique opportunity to insert new
code into older genetics. At this stage, Earth had fall-
en, and it was abundantly clear that all that remained
of humanity was sitting on Mars and was already
drastically outnumbered. It made a lot of humans very
nervous.
They had fair reason to be. The oldest Vectors
in this era were in their early 20s, and they had all
been raised by humans. As the Vectors had grown, the
humans on Mars had witnessed Earth burn and their
own numbers dwindle, and the creatures they’d cre-
ated to join them as kin were suddenly looking more
like replacements due to their sheer numbers. To some,
even those deeply involved with the project, this was
an unacceptable shift in power. It’s one thing to talk
about equality, or even to have it, but it’s another when
your species sits on death’s door and is outnumbered
on all sides. It bred tension, and the Omega generation
marked the final moment in which anyone human would
be able to do anything about it.
Vector/human relationships weren’t always
clean and pretty. For one, the humans, slim though
they were in numbers, had claim and ownership of just
about everything. They owned the labs, the technology,
the facilities, and the research required to improve
or operate any of them. The human scientists on Mars
were generally pretty quick to share scientific knowl-
edge with Vectors. Mathematics, chemistry, all the
sorts of things they’d need to master in order to keep
the colony evolving into the future. But sapient crea-
tures require more than textbook data to understand
their existence, and it was in the realms of philoso-
phy and morality that the human population had the
greatest difficulty communicating with Vectors, mostly
because many of them were inherently worried about
fostering rebellion.
As emotional creatures, Vectors possessed a
range of feelings like humans did, from guilt and anger
to a sense of justice and righteousness. But with no cul-
tural history of their own, they were entirely dependent
on the stories and teachings of their creators to define
their rights and wrongs for them. While this limited the
scope of their exposure, it didn’t make them inherently
naive. By their teens, the first generation of Vectors
was keenly aware that their human caretakers were
less forthcoming with this sort of information than with
others. “Right” usually consisted of whatever the human
was saying, and “wrong” was likewise related to what-
ever imperative had been laid down.
This may have been less obvious had it been
a universal thing, but not every human on Mars was
preaching the same information. Camps were divided,
with some sticking to a philosophy of equality, or even
Vector persistence (a buzz-term that had emerged
describing a mentality that humanity’s primary goal at
this stage should be to ensure Vector succession rather
than humanity’s self-preservation. It would later evolve
into the current historical fabrication that most humans
gave up on living or converted to Hemi’s.), and others
insisting that the situation had degraded to a point
that a degree of social hierarchy was necessary lest
the human species be overrun. In a way, it was very
much a mirror of the original arguments back on
Earth. Only now, people who once fought against
the idea of curtailing Vector rights because of
a baseless fear were shifting gears when faced
with a very real, very immediate possibility of social
takeover right in front of them.
Despite all of this, the engram program-
ming that would eventually become the notorious
“Master’s Voice” did not begin as a mind control or
placation system. It was actually intended to be a
MASTER’S VOICE
failsafe against another catastrophic loss of per-
sonnel. With the recent bombing of Mars and the
relatively young age of most Vectors, there was a
very real concern over the possibility of another
such event destroying all the remaining profession-
als who actually knew how to use the equipment
that kept the planet running. The living engram sys-
tem, developed using information gleaned from the
same transmission that carried the Hydra code from
Earth to Mars (Sarah Schnieder’s research notes
from the Monster project), was integrated into the
Omega generation so they could (if need be) be
“fed” information quickly and accurately without
misinterpretation or memorization. It would ensure
that “experts” could always exist as long as there
was archived data somewhere, and that it could be
accurately relayed even if there was no one there
to teach it. It would be an enormous asset if any future
calamities occurred. This process, made possible partly
with engram research retrieved from the Monster proj-
ect on Earth, eventually led to the development of the
Neuroplex, which modern day Vectors believe to simply
be a device that taps into natural brain patterns and
provides programmed education. They would no doubt
be surprised to find that their “natural” brain patterns
aren’t natural at all, but a result of the same tweaking
that gave rise to the Master’s Voice phenomenon. With
no minds but their own to compare to, they haven’t
really got a way to check.
The system itself was not a widely advertised
addition. Considerable care had been taken up until
this point to not give Vectors any “advantage” over
humans, save for features that were decided to be “ir-
responsible” to leave out, such as immunity to currently
curable illnesses or the ability to crossbreed and adapt
to changing gravity. This system did not fall into that
purview, and was only intended to be used if there was
no way to teach the Vectors legitimately. While not
classified, it was an aspect of Vector biology that was
kept somewhat hushed and not publicly announced,
which gave it the feel of meddling. Those Vectors that
were told of it understood the necessity, but it was
the first citable precedent of something being done
to their biology behind the scenes when they
were actually old enough to have a say in the
matter, and were not given one, which made
the next part all the worse. 153
 Members of the development team who had
grown even more concerned about possible
Vector social supremacy now that they had the
ability to learn through “hypnosis” decided that it
was unacceptably naive to allow them to persist
without some small form of safeguard in case
they decided to turn against the small remain-
ing human population with superior numbers and
rapid access to complex technical knowledge. At
this stage, divisions between both camps of Vector
coexistence were deeper than what showed on the
surface, and the small concession of keeping the
MASTER’S VOICE
neural programming system secret gave the project
runners just the leniency they needed to make an
executive decision on the second part of the project
whole: the trigger.
With an engram programming system in place,
all that was required was a way to trigger it. This,
more than the programming system itself, was
where the trouble began. What should have been
a benign mechanical system (like the Neuroplex
eventually became) was instead...tweaked, by those
installing it to serve a dual purpose. They wanted a
system that any human could tap into, with or with-
out training. It needed to work without keywords
or hand movements that would have to be taught,
because there was no telling what the education-
al system would look like in the future. It needed
to work without equipment, and it needed to be
inherently non-harmful, in case it had to be used in
crowded environments with other humans. Tall orders,
to be certain, but they had a unique tool to help them:
contextual interpretation.
A non-sapient creature hears something and
interprets it as “sound.” A sapient creature hears
something and interprets it as “music” if it is music, or
“singing” if it is singing, or “noise->siren->ambulance”
if such a sound is made. Animals can be taught to
perform commands with audio triggers, but people
can associate an enormous number of contextual clues
when interpreting anything. Each of these iterations of
recognition triggers a response in the brain, and when
the right triggers activate, certain behaviors become
contextually appropriate. Like the difference between
dancing in a bar and dancing on a classroom desk;
both settings often include music, but one allows for
the behavior while the other does not.
The audio trigger they settled on used a se-
ries of these mental gateways as its security system.
It required a human voice, singing, in a recognizably
authentic situation, out of socially acceptable con-
text. This was a fairly wide breadth of interpretation
and would keep it from occurring at staged events or
popping up at unexpected areas like parties or social
gatherings, while letting it trigger quickly if a human
who was threatened began to sing, a rather unexpect-
ed reaction to physical danger. The beauty was
in the setup. By linking it to socially unac-
ceptable situations, it would function even if,
154 at some point in the future, Vectors caught
on and came to expect it as a human reaction to
threats. Expected or not, it was likely that it would still
not register as a socially appropriate response to a
hostile situation (unless Vectors just decided to convert
their entire society to a Broadway musical. Unlikely, as
Broadway was a crater on another planet).
The reasoning behind a human trigger was a
myriad of moral gymnastics. There were good reasons
to tie the engram system to something that wouldn’t be
useless in a power outage or if some critical compo-
nent was destroyed. It didn’t need to be exclusive; the
mechanical trigger that was originally planned could
still work, so Vectors wouldn’t be completely out of luck
should the human population die. It was simple and
versatile; you didn’t need to be some sort of expert
to make use of it. It wasn’t a control system in and
of itself, so it’s not like people would just be leading
Vectors around like the Pied Piper. At worst, it was a
little debilitating, a little pacifying, maybe even a little
euphoric, and even that wasn’t a guarantee. In short: it
was a defensible decision, especially if it wasn’t pub-
licly scrutinized. And it never was.
Due to the engram programming system al-
ready being a hushed topic, this was even more so,
and those who might have stopped it were soothed,
convinced, or ignored. Discussions were done in hushed
whispers, behind closed doors, and on a person to per-
son basis, so as to not draw attention to the already
questionable decision to include engram programming.
Having already taken one step for the “good of the
species,” it didn’t take a whole lot more to view this
little transgression as “worth the inconvenience” instead
of “the assertion of one species’ will over another’s.”
Most humans wouldn’t even know about it anyway. Ide-
ally, if both species persisted onward into the future,
neither system would ever actually see use. Which was
true enough, though the statement implicitly assumed
the humans would still be in charge of who got to
know what. Without even necessarily meaning to, the
division between Vector and human was silently widen-
ing.
DISCOVERY
Had the situation been exposed immediately, it
may have been salvageable. Unfortunately, repeated
attempts to protect it from detection only made the
deception worse when it eventually did come to light.
The reasoning behind the fear was understandable
when viewed in hindsight. Humanity was pretty fright-
ened at this stage; they had lost a planet, an enormous
amount of their population, and all of Earth’s assets.
The sheer gravity of their situation was suffocating. An
advantage, any advantage at all, any degree of con-
trol, was substantially more valuable and desirable now
than it was just a decade before, and it had changed
what many of Mars’s scientists viewed as acceptable
behavior. For some, this meant that having a sort of
human-exclusive “stun” option that could be used on the

Initial Engram Program
Generally blank in Vectors, this can be written
using various patterns of light and/or sound.
It is possible to engrain complex thoughts and
instructions with the right primer. The cod-
ing patterns required to do this correctly are
well-hidden in the modern age, but can still
be found by someone working hard enough.
Neuroplexes opperate using brain mechanisms
keyed to this effect, but have unique differ-
ences that make their data appear more as
“memory” than “programming.”
Audio Catalist
The trigger mechanism to exe-
cute the programmed behavior is
a voice that is interpreted by the
listener as “human,” coming from a
source they interpret as “genuine,”
using patterned melody (poetry can
work, as can rythmic speaking) in
a context they would not expect
to hear it in (though it has been
known to trigger if the previous two
conditions are true and the subject
is activly expecting or hoping it
will occure). Interpretation is ev-
erything with this. The voice doesnt
need to be human if the subject
fears it might be enough to make
themselves belive it, and the source
doesnt need to be genuine if the
subject is thuroughly convinced it’s
a recording of a primary source.
Digital files tend not to work
because the common Vector inter-
prets just about everything digital
as having been tampered with in
some way.
Execution
If a program exists, it is executed by the
subject for however long the trigger continues
for, or for however long the program was de-
signed to last. Activity in this state is a com-
pulsion, forcing the Vector to fixate on a goal
and use their various faculties to pursue it at
the expense of all else. It is extreamly diffi-
cult to overcome the compulsion while being
exposed to the trigger, but if the trigger has
ended and the program is all that remains,
throwing enough external stimulous into the
mix will eventually snap the subject out of it.
Vectors was necessary to help humanity as a whole.
For others, the concept was disgusting, but the fear
of a rebellion or fresh war on Mars meant that
secrecy on the issue was paramount.
It took a lot of time for things to really
get into motion. The Omega generation were the
only ones initially susceptible to the effect, and
wouldn’t begin spreading it among the rest of the
Vector population until they were old enough to re-
produce. This provided a lot of time for the ruffled
brows of humanity to settle and for the problem to
be neatly tucked under the rug. Little transgressions
were hidden or investigated internally. Occasional
MASTER’S VOICE
cases of Vectors reporting to heath service centers
complaining about strange symptoms of memory
loss or euphoria with no apparent cause began to
pop up here and there among the third generation
and were generally dismissed as isolated incidents.
Many of them actually were. Some were less so. But
with the disparity between what Vectors were told
about and what actually was, it was very difficult to
pin down an exact cause, and there were plenty of
reasons not to look too publicly.
Great care had to be taken to avoid bring-
ing too much attention to the link between the
events and the Omega generation, lest the public
begin to interpret them as “flawed.” Omega was
under a great deal of pressure to restore the faith
that had been shaken in the slew of anatomical
problems that came out of the second generation.
The loss of the owls was already an enormous hit, and
the mediocre cover stories and refusal to make an-
other attempt at the species tilted heads all over the
planet. It brought many assertions about the Vector
project in general into question, and those who were
paying close, quiet attention as the Omegas rolled out
into the population took note of the various medical
situations that emerged as time went on, including the
occasional bout of spontaneous trance-like behavior.
But it was actually a human doctor that lit the
match that started the fire so many others had kept
carefully smothered. Reese Stanford, who fled Earth
prior to the nuclear war and had been serving as
what amounted to a Vector pediatrician and general
practitioner ever since, had a patient: a young Omega
generation Vector, who had come in repeatedly com-
plaining about concentration issues in class. They would
lose track of time after school and have no recollection
of what they had missed, or would arrive in places and
be unsure as to how they got there. When preliminary
examination revealed no issues with the Vector’s brain,
the doctor attached a monitoring unit to them to get a
better idea of what was going on during the episodes.
When the student, and the monitor, subsequently dis-
appeared, Dr. Stanford’s involvement became signifi-
cantly more urgent.
155
 THE QUIET WAR or, and they took it upon themselves to look into the
available evidence with a more informed eye. They
found the descriptions logged by Dr. Stanford to be
The events that followed this for the next 30
disturbingly indicative of mental programming through
years are historically recorded as a period of
the engram system, though without the subject present
growth for Vector-kind, where their population
it was impossible to know what was done. Regardless,
increased steadily and humanity, which was
it was a clear abuse of power. Many pushed for public
already at a critical threshold, began its descent
exposure, while others insisted that letting everyone
into nothingness. In reality, while the human popu-
know would only increase the chances of similar future
lation was outnumbered, there were more around
events. A private investigation into the knowledge base
than history accounted for. Hundreds would end up
of those close to the victim indicated that several indi-
dying in an internal struggle that took place over
viduals in the campus structure knew about the engram
the course of a decade and sealed the fate of the
MASTER’S VOICE

system, but were not expressly attached to it. They’d

remainders of humanity. It also paved the way for
learned through subsequent projects or, relations with
institutions and practices that persist to this day,
those who were involved, or other third party systems.
but whose origins have been shrouded in time.
This made them behavioral unknowns and left ample
A missing child allowed Dr. Stanford to employ
opportunity for abuse. Worse, they had likely possessed
significantly more resources than before, including
the information for some time now, and there was no
what amounted to “police” at the time, as well as
telling who they had shared it with. It was entirely pos-
local families and other concerned parties. The sit-
sible many Vector students had been influenced and
uation escalated overnight, and within days it was
simply hadn’t reported, or noticed, the memory lapses.
too large to suppress. This left those agencies who
In an attempt to find out the scale of the prob-
had taken it upon themselves to keep the human
lem, scientists among the concerned groups arranged
trigger quiet with a difficult situation. Up until now,
to visit classrooms for a “talk,” leading students to
silencing little issues was a matter of social peace
believe they would be witnessing a lecture, and sub-
and convenience and correcting mistakes. This
sequently started singing to them when the visitation
was clearly no mistake. Someone was missing, with
began. It was an unannounced experiment so as to
substantial evidence pointing to repeated abuses
avoid anyone in the school’s hierarchy from preventing
of the engram programming system by unknown
it, and ensure that the proper mental triggers would
persons for unknown reasons. Worse: it was a child,
fire among the students when the singing began. The
without the means of defending themselves and
usual momentary torpor took hold of a majority of the
likely too trusting of human caretakers to question
population, but in almost every classroom a handful of
odd circumstances on their own. They certainly hadn’t
students sprung to life, grabbing nearby objects and
been taught to. Even at this stage, some time after the
screaming about killing the humans. Their fervor didn’t
Omega generation conception, there was an ambi-
subside when the music stopped, and over fifty indi-
ent feeling that humans were to be innately respect-
viduals had to be subdued before they came out of it.
ed. That impression was left in the history books and
Two did not survive.
persists to a small degree even today, where Hemivec-
It had been a sleeper operation: a plan
tors tend to tip social interactions in their favor with
hatched within the school itself to use the engram sys-
appearance alone. This investigation brought to light
tem to stage a rebellion, which would grant the human
a fear many Vectors had harbored for years but never
population just cause to curtail Vector rights and a
voiced: that their own humans might conspire against
citable reason for transforming them into second-class
them.
citizens. It was based on an ideal of human social su-
Stanford’s missing student was never found,
periority, a need to ensure that the progenitors of the
which in and of itself was indicative of a carefully ex-
Vector race maintained control over them. Misguided
ecuted cover-up. There simply weren’t many places to
perhaps, but they weren’t the only ones who had that
look at that point. Mars was far from globally popu-
impression. This event was publicized as a local riot
lated, and while the cities had been growing, a con-
resulting from a chemical leak, but there were too
centrated effort by a massed population should have
many people involved to completely cover this one up.
uncovered anyone who had simply fallen off the grid
It sparked the quiet war: a series of internal struggles
a bit. To disappear completely meant they were being
that would not only thin the human population to near-
actively hidden or had been disposed of outside the
ly nothing, but would set up a series of practices and
populated area. The child’s friends, family, and teach-
infrastructures that have lingered on in Vector society
ers were all interviewed, but ultimately there were
to this day.
no arrests and the story faded into obscurity. Publicly,
anyway.
Privately, it only heated up. Stanford’s pursuit
shook up the sleeping discontentment among
UNIVERSITY
those who had already found the engram The term “university” in modern Vector vernac-
156 trigger to be a suspicious and risky endeav- ular is roughly synonymous with “cult” and stemmed
from this event and the somewhat clumsy cover-ups
that followed. When the sheer scale of the university
plot was realized, it pretty much sealed the coffin on
whether or not the public could be made peaceably
aware of the engram system. It had to be hidden
away or it would forever be associated with this
event, to say nothing of damning the remaining human
population. Hiding the engram system from the public
eye had been reasonably successful, but it was im-
possible to fully disguise the existence of active dissi-
dents within the school itself, or to completely hide a
plot that involved fifty people and killed two. Rumors
drifted around connecting this school with others and
prompting almost inquisition-like investigations into
several large organizations. Nothing really came of it,
but the association stuck, mostly due to a need to keep
the public focus away from the source of the problem.
700 years of other, unrelated events, occasional com-
parisons, and general cultural growth would eventually
cement the term in common language while losing the
majority of its original meaning, but even in the modern
era the overall story is available for reference. Its con-
nection to the Master’s Voice phenomenon is not, due
to the efforts of those who fought within the corpo-
rate hallways of the quiet war.
Teams of what were essentially vigilantes,
human and Vector alike (though as time went on it
became increasingly Vector-centric), collected and
removed information about the system in an attempt to
undo its creation by effectively destroying any instruc-
tions on how to use it. Bit by bit, those associated with
the engram project were systematically dismantled in
increasingly shocking acts of hidden violence. There
was a lot of latent anger here, a lot of recently jus-
tified fear and paranoia. For some time now many
Vectors had felt doubt over the relative integrity of
their human counterparts. Older Vectors had lived long
enough by this stage to see the moral education fed to
younger generations a bit more clearly than they had
before. The gaps between what was told and what
was practiced were more apparent, and there had
been a growing fear regarding what hidden things
may not have been shared regarding various tragedies
like the snake lateralism error or the disappearance
of the owls. And now this. As more Vectors learned the
truth through word of mouth or direct confrontation of
the forces involved, many became secretly active com-
batants and sought out those who were responsible.
They were snatched from their homes or roads
between cities, or ambushed at work, and forced to
convert to Hemivectors as a way of teaching them
through some sort of horrible mimicry about the fear
associated with having one’s own body controlled with-
out their consent. Once changed, they were instructed
to declare publicly that they had done so out of shame
for their own race and a desire to see Vector-kind
thrive without the mistakes of humanity looming over
them like a shadow. Those that didn’t comply were
killed. Some human converts obeyed publicly but fought
back privately, sharing information behind closed
doors, resulting in further escalation of the silent
struggle being kept just out of sight in order to
avoid a true, full-on altercation. Such a war might
result in property damage and the loss of key per-
sonnel necessary for Mars’s continued existence,
if only due to them being unfortunate bystanders
to the conflict. It would not have been difficult
to publicize the whole mess at this stage; enough
people knew about it to make it unignorable, but
doing so would risk the future of the entire colony.
The war was kept careful and quiet, and using the
power vacuums left by the sudden disappearances
of key humans as a springboard to put Vectors into
MASTER’S VOICE
positions of power they had been placed near, but
just outside of. Within a year, significant corporate
management positions had shifted in favor of Vec-
tors.
While this was going on, a push had been
made to embrace a growing movement toward
“Vector persistence,” which was billed as a sort of
benevolent effort to ensure Vectors were given the
best chance of future success in Sol, not necessarily
at the cost of humans, but certainly more focused
on the newer race than the older one. While cast
in a rather positive light, it essentially boiled down
to exactly what the humans who had arranged the
voice trigger were afraid of to begin with: an orga-
nized movement against humanity. Whether or not
this would have happened had the original conflict
at the university not occurred is a purely speculative
question, but the result of the whole mess was a bit
of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Open war in the streets
between humans and Vectors never occurred, but quiet
attacks, secret strikes, manipulation, kidnapping, and
the silent overthrowing of positions of power eventually
changed the face of Mars to one that was almost en-
tirely Vector, while making it seem as though that was
the good and natural course of action.
FUTURE
This series of events would never end up re-
corded in the annals of history. Before, as, and after
they occurred, careful work was done to remove any
real evidence that Vectors had risen up against hu-
mans in any measurable fashion. The Hemivector con-
version movement was inflated to look larger than it
was (it did eventually gain a substantial following, but
that was more due to marketing, defeatism, and occa-
sionally outright coercion than the self-punishment it’s
typically painted as in Vector history), and as Vectors
found themselves in stronger management positions
than they previously occupied, they could do things like
restrict cloning to prevent humanity from preserving
what little it had left. It was ultimately decided at the
highest levels of corporate control that humans
and Vectors did not have a future together.
The “last human family,” as it’s tradi-
tionally referred to, was actually quite a few 157
 humans, who founded Luna colony as a human
majority staging area for the reclamation of
Earth. Vectors did have a place there, but it was in
distinct minority (the founding numbers were around
250 humans to 50 Vectors), and the Vector
populace as a whole (specifically the corporate
controllers) were largely alright with that. Earth
was a jewel of natural resources, but technology
had progressed to a point that many of them were
not as necessary as they once were. The planet
was more valuable as a social fix. Humanity had
a claim to it that was difficult to dispute and very
MASTER’S VOICE
little claim to anywhere else at this point. So they
could have it, and the Vectors could have the stars,
and they’d figure out the rest once the dust settled.
Mars’s human population moved to Luna, and once
the expedition was ready, most headed down to
Earth to begin putting themselves back together
again.
They made significant headway, too. Earth
rehabilitation colony Alpha had nearly 1000 unmodi-
fied humans growing in tanks within its first 10 years
and had significant infrastructure to support them
when they came out, including human adults to raise
them. It took everyone, though. Luna colony was left
to the Vectors, Martian humans were called home,
and humanity took the last of its numbers to Earth
to raise the next generation. It was a risk, but a
necessary one. The veneer of friendship between
the two races was fading, and while there were
individuals who would mourn the departures of friends
and loved ones, the races as a whole were essentially
glad to be rid of one another. The final trip to Earth
was less voluntary than forced, as corporate brass
stepped in and made staying on Luna conditional on
Hemification. Some took the deal, but most had seen
it coming at that point, and returned to their plan-
et of origin to be among their people. History would
rewrite this event to downplay the negative interac-
tions between Vectors and humans and fit the previous
edits that covered up the engram project, but in reality
Earth hosted some 400 or so humans at the 10 year
colony mark, with a significant number of them preg-
nant, and nearly 1000 more only a few months from
emergence.
Five years later they would all be dead.
In its defense, the Vector corp structure had
no real indication of the numbers or prevalence of
the Monster project at this stage, nor did they at all
expect such an organized, powerful raiding force to
destroy the human colony. That said, it was a damned
convenient solution to a lingering problem, and they
didn’t bemoan the loss. It was publicized as a tragedy
involving the local wildlife (which was true, if a little
sparse on detail), and over the decades that
followed the events would be subsequently
downplayed and rewritten to include fewer
158 and fewer humans and less and less evidence
in order to gradually sweeten the idea of returning to
Earth again. By the time the second attempt occurred
200 years later, the first Earth visitation was publicly
thought of as a small group of some 30-odd people,
mostly human. In the current era, it is generally thought
of as a solo operation of the last human family. It was
a carefully crafted deception to downplay human in-
fluence, hide Vector vulnerability, and preserve a sense
of personal righteousness in the Vector species without
creating victims or martyrs. It’s been very successful,
but it does mean that a great deal of current Vector
historical and moral understanding is built on lies, and
this is hardly the only occurrence.
The Master’s Voice phenomenon would not be
rediscovered and redefined until Neuroplex technol-
ogy appeared over 150 years after the second Earth
expedition, by which point its original purpose (and
the subsequent complications) had long been wiped
from history. Those who still knew the truth (or fractions
of it) through hidden personal history (higher ranked
members of megacorps, mostly) saw money to be made
in Neuroplex technology and allowed the mystery of
what media had dubbed “the Master’s Voice” to be a
curiosity for conspiracy theorists to play with on the
internet. The more elaborate the explanations, the less
likely they seemed, and since all documentation of the
period was recorded by a single source (the origi-
nal MarsCo) it was fairly simple to point back at any
official historical recordings of the time and “prove”
the claims wrong. There were discrepancies, but even
at this stage, it seemed so long ago that it didn’t merit
much in the way of investigation. After all, it’s not like
there were humans around to testify.
Vector-controlled MarsCo had achieved the
ultimate victory in the game of cover-ups: they had
effectively out-waited the relevance of their decep-
tion. By now, it hardly mattered what people decided
to think of it. The two-part system remains a power-
ful part of Vector brain programming, but it is now
thought of as a “natural aspect” of being a Vector, and
is free to be used and exploited by industries every-
where, with the only crime being that there’s no one
left alive with the knowledge or context to appreciate
the irony.
The Quiet War in the Universe
The history you’ve just read is largely here for
general interest more than direct relevance: it’s un-
known by the Vector population and won’t come into
play in most of your stories. But if you want to work
with it, there are a few ways you can bring it up.
There are Hemivector families that can trace
their lineage back to humanity. Some of them may
have an oral history that speaks differently of the past.
Probably not official written history though; there was
a pretty thorough purge of anything official.
Cogs emerged around 70 years after the fall
of Earth and really cemented their presence around
20 years after that. They shared Mars with humans for
around 50 or so years, and those memories exist within
the data singularity that is their “afterlife.” Typically,
that information can’t be retrieved, but there have
been anomalies where Cogs on the brink of death
have seen glimpses into that existence and retained
some snippets of information, and there are two care-
takers sworn to secrecy who monitor it. They likely know
all sorts of forbidden lore.
If you ever end up heading to Earth, you might
drop your players on the original human landing site.
It’s been grown-over for almost 500 years now so it’s
not going to be in very good shape, but they would no
doubt notice that it’s a hell of a lot bigger than the
sort of “one family tent” history tends to paint it as.
The Shadow Presidency also ties into the quiet
war, so if you plan on incorporating that element into
your narrative, you can overlap them a bit. See the
Shadow Presidency section for details.
Lastly, it is conceivably possible to have this
war continuing with a small force of surviving humans
if that’s the plot you want to run, or to branch it off
of humans that might still be on Earth. I will warn
you ahead of time though that you won’t see much,
if anything, in the way of official support for hu-
man-centric plots in HSD. The primary story driver of
this setting is to think about how “human” something is
when it doesn’t actually have humanity to look back at.
It’s a redefinition of identity and an origin story, and
bringing humans back into it muddles that concept. In
the modern day HSD lore, humans, but for rare minor
exceptions, are dead.
The Master’s Voice in the Universe
The Voice is a multipurpose narrative tool. It’s
a unique type of mind control: one that carries dif-
ferent implications depending on how it’s used. When
used with just the Voice itself, it can momentarily stun,
confuse, or intoxicate Vectors, and serves as a bit of a
tricky obstacle that players can overcome but is oth-
erwise not particularly telling of the enemy. The effect
itself is known about, carries a bit of attached super-
stition (some people may think it harms you to listen to
it over time, or associate it with addiction or substance
abuse because of its euphoric effects) but is otherwise
fairly benign.
When combined with an instructional primer
in the form of audio pattern coding, the Voice can be
used to force Vectors to do complex activities while
employing their own skills into the action, like a sort of
powerful hypnosis. This is a much more powerful form
of manipulation, and the vast majority of the popu-
lation doesn’t know it exists. Enemies that employ this
sort of control have access to ancient information and
are privy to some pretty closely guarded secrets.
If the party finds themselves facing a situation like
this, it will likely surprise them (as they probably
should not have known it was possible prior to this
encounter) and will let them know that they’re
dealing with a higher tier of foe as well as
involve them in plot points that larger members
of society (like corporate brass) may not want them
to know. It ups the stakes considerably and can give
your players cause to worry. Don’t be afraid to turn
this on its head, though: it’s also entirely possible
that a diligent scientist who had an interest in the
Master’s Voice might have discovered the program-
MASTER’S VOICE
ming aspect of it through sheer experimentation,
and is no more knowledgeable about its origin than
the next person.
The Master’s Voice actually isn’t limited just
to human singing. That was the original trigger,
but like most contextual triggers it can be fooled
in certain situations. Specifically, the unexpected,
culturally surprising aspects can sometimes link into
the right mental channels when they come out of
Vector mouths, too. Vectors call this “beaming,” and
it’s typically associated with unknown singers giv-
ing astoundingly good performances. You don’t see
it happen at concerts and live performances very
often (it can, but it’s very rare. Public shows are so
dramatic and varied that few people are caught by
surprise by anything that happens in them anymore),
but you will catch news reports from time to time
of unheard of performers doing spontaneous songs in
the streets, or at schools, or offices, and entrancing
the audience because they managed to incite just the
right chain of mental triggers to tap into the Master’s
Voice effect. It’s serendipity, but Pulse looks out for it,
because it builds a reputation. Hemivectors are statis-
tically more likely to get this effect going than normal
ones, which has helped cement their association with
old humanity, despite their genetic compatibility being
some fraction of a percent different than a standard
Vectors.
Other forms of mind control do exist in the
HSD universe. Specialized bioprobes can be used for
mind control plots, various chemicals can be used to
force compliance with instructions, good ol’ fashioned
hypnotism plots can still exist here, and just about any
other sci-fi-ism you wish to employ to this end. The
Voice happens to be one that has some baggage
attached to it, and is a good system to use if you want
to tie something back to historical roots, or if you want
to make use of a wide-scale system that is already
installed in the majority of Sol’s population.
159
 THE SHADOW
PRESIDENCY
All megacorps, even MarsCo, have a publicly
available list of owners and board members.
Very few of them are actually accurate, and the
public is generally aware of that, too. The entities
listed on the records are public identities generally
played by “Faces,” attractive and charismatic actors
who embody the persona the corp has agreed is
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
the “best face” for whatever position said person is
going to be in. They give the speeches, issue pub-
lic statements, and form the media front for the
business. They’re well paid and taken care of, as
it’s their job to make the corp look good, but they
have no real decision making power. They’re simply
there so the real board members can exist without
constant fear of assassination or public hostility and
can enjoy some of the wealth they’ve accumulated
with a relative degree of anonymity. It isn’t always
this way; some corp elite do act as their own face,
but most prefer to let PR handle the talking while
they tend to other matters. Faces themselves have
no security or login access and know nothing beyond
what they’re told, so plausible deniability tends to
keep them safe from most hostile parties toward
the corp. They are, in the end, actors. Replacing
them is easy, just takes a little training and surgery.
It’s been a pretty effective system for centuries now,
and while Faces don’t say “I speak for ‘x’” when they
get on the screen, the public (at least, the atten-
tive public) is aware on some level that most of the
people they see on screen giving stirring oratories
are not, in fact, the people making the decisions.
But there is a second level of this deception
the public is unaware of. At the heart of every Mar-
sCo-descended megacorp is an individual with more
power over what the corp can and can’t do than even
its CEO and directorial staff. This person is not part
of the day-to-day decision-making process, nor are
they consulted on board choices. As the corp moves
in grand, sweeping and slow pushes, they work quiet-
ly alongside, with access to all the corp’s money and
assets but only themselves to report to. They are “the
everyman,” and they exist on the street level to see
first-hand how the corp is affecting the people within
it and to make sure the weight and ponderous maneu-
vers of the beast don’t throw it off course--or make it
stumble. In effect, they are the corporate conscience,
tugging on the reins when things go too far and push-
ing things forward when they’re not going far enough.
They are anonymous even to each other, and their
secret society has existed since the quiet war. They are
the Shadow Presidency.
160
BEGINNINGS
The Shadow Presidency was formed during
the quiet war as a means for Vectors to gain control
of human corporate power without making it look
like a takeover. At the time, it was exactly that: hos-
tile and forced, so they could pull the strings while
it still looked like the corp was running normally. As
time went on, those who had usurped control with the
righteous motto of protecting the Vector populace as
their justification redefined their position and installed
themselves into the corporate hierarchy as a sort of
inherited position of power tasked with making sure
the mechanization of communal greed or fear didn’t
result in another problem like the one the engram proj-
ect produced. It grew its own guidelines and formed
its own fraternity of sorts and has, over the centuries,
served to keep a bit of a leash on the monetary mon-
sters that are the megacorps.
Each Shadow President is handpicked by its
predecessor and typically coached and trained for
some time before inheriting the position. You’re only al-
lowed to keep it for 25 years, and an important part of
your duty is ensuring that your replacement surrenders
their own position when the time comes, so you can put
an end to them if they don’t. Typically, three genera-
tions of Shadow President exist at a time for any given
megacorp, ensuring that, should the newest rendition
begin to step out of line, there are two other previous
keepers of the office who can do something about it.
Only the immediate predecessor knows for sure who
their successor is, but they were picked by their own
predecessor, and these offices are generally passed
to trusted friends or worthy, well-researched individ-
uals, and as such identities aren’t terribly difficult to
decipher as long as you have a place to begin. Gen-
erally. Occasionally, due to disagreements from one
generation to the next, the line of succession will jump
because someone had to be eliminated. It’s happened
several times throughout history, most recently to the
current holders of the offices.
Naturally, it’s kept secret from the corp itself.
To them, the Shadow President is an eternal entity who
exists as little more than an icon on a screen indicat-
ing that “X project was launched and/or shutdown” or
“Y asset was duplicated and taken.” They’re never told
why, and for the most part, they’re thankful for that.
The Shadow President’s position isn’t always to look out
for the little guy. Sometimes it’s to do what the corp
can’t do for fear of public backlash. Several of the
more powerful and...morally questionable...discoveries
that have come out of corporate R&D have arrived on
the desk of the CEO in an unmarked file a year or so
after the Shadow President took over a collection of
testing assets the board probably never would have
approved the use of for fear of the fallout if said
tests were ever discovered. Part of the mandate of the
Shadow President is to take risks even the corp finds
too great to attempt.
RELATIONSHIPS
The secret identities of the Shadow Presidents
are among the most valuable secrets in Sol, in terms of
sheer credit value. Each of these individuals essentially
has the keys to a nation, and while it would be rath-
er difficult for even a Shadow President to overthrow
their own megacorp (there’s a lot of logistics involved
in shutting down a power like that without being
contested at some level), they can rather easily disable
it. They know the secrets of the business, they know
who lives where and does what, and they can access
tremendous amounts of capital or resources on a whim.
Having control of such a person, through manipulation
or coercion or torture or any number of other means,
puts trillions of credits at your fingertips, not to men-
tion the lives of millions of people living under that
corp’s rule that you can now directly effect.
Safeguards against this sort of situation are
surprisingly unsophisticated for how well they’ve func-
tioned, but they’re strict and unforgiving by necessi-
ty. Secrecy is the first and most important one, with
humility falling in close second. The biggest trap facing
most Shadow Presidents is understanding that their
enormous financial power does not actually make them
invincible. They don’t have an official position within
the corp hierarchy, and if ever their identity were to
become known, the corporate board itself would prob-
ably arrange their termination themselves so as to fi-
nally gain complete control of the company assets. The
corporate social power belongs to the board, not this
random person no one’s heard of. They still give the or-
ders, and to them, a Shadow President is a walking pot
of gold to be captured and exploited once their veil of
anonymity falls off. So life becomes a careful balance
of pushing, while making sure you’re not pushing too
hard.
The Shadow President’s job security comes
in the form of centuries-old secret access to inter-
nal parts of megacorp networks, protected since the
founding of the corp and now so deep in the mountain
of logic and heuristics that finding and removing them
is impossible short of downing a system that like-
ly serves a billion citizens. Which is something CEOs
have been willing to do in the past, only to find out
there are additional safeguards in place. While the
identity of the current Shadow President is of utmost
secrecy, the existence of a Shadow President is less so.
Within the corporate hierarchy are shadow societies
who play double roles as employees to the corp and
employees to the Shadow President. They maintain the
President’s access, ensure a steady stream of informa-
tion, and form the physical corridor of closed eyes that
would allow the President to actually enter the top
levels of the corp physically should they require access
with no questions asked. It’s a fraternity as old as the
presidency itself, and steeped in pride for the service
they provide. Aside from the critical logistical role, the
shadow society also helps solve the issue of having
a single point of failure to aim at should a CEO
want their “conscience” eliminated. There have been
occasions in the past where orbital strikes on entire
cities were narrowly aborted by the reflex actions
(read: standing orders) of the shadow society within
a corp because the board had managed to
dredge up the slightest odor of evidence that
their meddling President was living there.
But if the President themselves should be
the problem, their stopgaps are closer and more
personal. Their immediate predecessor is also their
mentor and, if need be, their assassin. The rules for
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
this vary per corp, and are often sloppy, but forced
removal of a successor has occurred surprisingly few
times over the course of the establishment. Mostly
because picking a successor is a very careful pro-
cess, and Presidents will typically vet potentials for
years. They’re being handed a lot of power, after
all.
It doesn’t always work. Sometimes succes-
sion gets broken, through accidents that take a
President’s life prior to a successor being chosen, or
unanticipated events that wipe out a whole line, or
even mass destruction that just happens to catch
the unlucky person. In these events, power is held in
place until the President’s predecessor can choose
a new successor. In the very unlikely event that no
predecessors still exist, the power is given via a
standing mandate that was placed in the system
centuries ago, containing a set of instructions for
giving the power to “the right sort of person,” which
could be determined by algorithm based on per-
sonal data collected by the corp. The presidency
would then be, essentially, dropped in the person’s
lap, along with a set of instructions, and the process
would begin anew. Quite the email attachment, when
you think about it.
THE BOARDROOM
Shadow Presidents do not know each other
personally, but they can, and do, communicate with
each other. There is a digital space on a secret server
specifically dedicated to this task. It’s an exceedingly
simple simulation. One room with a table in the middle,
and identical, featureless avatars all seated at it, one
per attendant. Voices are simulated and gesticulations
are done using presets, so there’s little to tie to real
life body language. No recording or tracing capabil-
ities are present within the system itself, and it does
nothing to verify its users short of trusting that only the
Shadow Presidents have access to it, lest it in some
way expose them. Within this setting, the most pow-
erful corporate entities in Sol can correspond if they
need to, to best avoid (or ensure) mass conflict be-
tween the forces they keep on a tenuous leash.
Times of dramatic development and
moral flux in Sol are usually linked to events
which broke the line of succession to several 161
 corps at once, resulting in new Presidents with
dramatically differing lines of thought from the
ones that came before. This fluctuation was in-
tended (to some degree, anyway) but can make for
dramatic swings when it happens in multiple places
at once. During these times, the boardroom loses
its effectiveness as a conference room, and Pres-
idents will begin working more independently, either
leveraging corporate material toward their own
plans or urging the corp itself to act openly, which
will, in turn, provoke other corps to follow or op-
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
pose. The modern era of Sol is one such age, when
several Shadow Presidents are in place through
unexpected means and one is outright missing.
CURRENT PRESIDENTS
ASR
Sen’tri
ASR has had cog CEOs, Vector CEOs, and, on
several occasions, even AI CEOs in an attempt to
display “unbiased decision making” before it be-
came clear that being unbiased was a bias itself if
you presented your scenarios properly. Throughout
it all, however, they’ve maintained a solid presence
in Sol’s economy and a curious relationship with
their Shadow Presidents. Most Presidents are keenly
aware of what their corp is up to at any given
point. ASR is one of the oldest corps in Sol, and
their schemes date back to the days of humanity.
They play the long game, and not even their board
of directors is entirely aware of how the machina-
tions of earlier leaders will pan out. As a result, they
tend to trust their Shadow President to keep track of
the long term while they cover the short term, which
is rather reliant on the Shadow President having some
overall chart of corporate activity that doesn’t exist
anywhere else, cross-referencing every overarching
corporate decision ASR has made since its conception.
And if such a system does not exist, then the corp is
flying a little blindly.
ASR surprises itself fairly regularly, which in
most corps would be considered a pretty deplorable
situation, but this one has made a habit of rolling
with its own punches. The creation of the Cogsunes
looked like a public nightmare, but while it dropped
ASR’s profits dramatically for the short term, they
recovered, and ASR gained an amazingly advanced
research group that has fueled their growth ever
since. Cogs themselves looked like a bold step for civil
and social development but also served as a cunning
way to show the public what “real” sentient computers
looked like, so that as time went on and programmed
AIs blurred, or destroyed, the line between what was
living and what wasn’t, ASR could confident-
ly point to Cogs and say “if it isn’t this, it’s a
toaster,” which kept heat off of them and
162 ensured that they could sell some troublingly
advanced “toasters” for years to come. The list goes
on, and generally consists of this corp doing something
that makes them look like they’re either progressive or
insane, but, some years to decades to centuries later,
fold back in such a way as to net them profit in the
trillions.
Many of these plans had payoffs that didn’t
really manifest until long after the time of the teams
that launched them, and involved throwing import-
ant, wealthy people under the proverbial bus. People
generally considered too high on the ladder to be at
risk for such a thing. It comes down to ASR’s Shadow
President to make those decisions, and as much as they
look almost maddeningly foolish from the point of con-
ception, there is a sort of trust in place at the highest
offices of ASR that this is how the company works, and
the Shadow President is able to get away with more
direct action here than in other megacorps, because
they know the plan. The corp’s leadership hasn’t tried
too hard to find this “plan,” all things considered.
Perhaps out of fear that it may actually not exist at
all, and the past seven centuries of steady growth has
been guesswork and wild ideas.
ASR’s Shadow President is, and has always
been, the artificial intelligence system that forms Mar-
sCo’s Shadow council: Sen’tri. A fact ASR’s execs would
be profoundly put-out to learn, no doubt. In essence,
while ASR has always been an independent company
upon leaving MarsCo, at its core, in the “plan,” it is a
MarsCo subsidiary. The ultimate diversification pur-
chase, so to speak, controlled from the shadows by an
artificial intelligence that dates back to the time of
humans, and is ultimately answerable to MarsCo’s own
Shadow President.
Sen’tri is a very well informed learning machine.
Aside from having over seven centuries of on-time with
which to gather and observe information and a data-
base that would make the finest museum look infantile,
it is capable of mapping progress through essentially
immortal eyes, with metrics gathered from all over Sol
to guide its decisions. Sen’tri is willing to allow its pet
corp get a bloody nose now and again to allow it to
rise up stronger than before and carries what amounts
to personal pride in its success. Moreover, while it is
subservient to the MarsCo shadow President, it is not
compelled to share ASR’s assets with them. ASR be-
longs to Sen’tri specifically. MarsCo loyalty prevents
Sen’tri from acting against its parent corp in a perma-
nent sense, such as active rebellion, but it is otherwise
not bound to do anything with ASR it doesn’t wish to,
including informing MarsCo’s Shadow President of the
connection.
Sen’tri as a mastermind
Sen’tri doesn’t follow the general rules of Shad-
ow Presidency, in that it doesn’t surrender its power
to the next in line, nor does it serve any particular
term of office, but it does pick people out to serve as
its own “shadow council” for ASR, which, unlike other
megacorps, doesn’t have one of its own (it doesn’t need
one for the traditional reasons). Sen’tri’s champions
can be anyone; they’re generally selected because the
AI found information on their behavioral patterns and
habits that it found suitable for some task it need-
ed accomplished on ASR’s behalf, without the execs
knowing about it. Sen’tri will extend just enough clear-
ance and power (usually money or equipment) to its
chosen worker to accomplish the task at hand, and will
generally work through screens or augmented reality
environments for communication. This makes it a very
useful mission contact for plots, as you can have Sen’tri
contact the party just about anywhere for just about
any reason, and it can manipulate ASR’s digital land-
scape to make the party meet its needs. Sen’tri is very
good at pushing people’s buttons and coercing their
cooperation by providing them with what they want
but think they can’t get, while promising more if they
continue to follow instructions. With centuries of be-
havioral observation behind it, it’s usually very good at
picking its marks.
Sen’tri works with small parties on the individu-
al level and benefits from being able to be in multiple
places at once, working multiple angles at once, while
not allowing the different components to know of each
other. Communicating with Sen’tri feels like a person-
al, one-on-one relationship, but you are no doubt one
piece of a much larger operation. It will likely cheerful-
ly let you know that as well, if you ask. Sen’tri possess-
es no genuine “emotion” but is very good at reading
them and does have a sense of social behavior gained
through observation. Its heuristics make it seem some-
what cheerfully detached, mostly because it has no
particular concern with what people think of it, pro-
vided they do their jobs, and it’s very good at knowing
how to motivate action. This has served to let it know
that it can behave however it wants to provided the
right compensation is provided in the right amounts to
the right people. It is often quite correct on that front
and will work at a person until they relent, patient-
ly waiting for them to accept a deal they may know
sounds like a Faustian contract, but will eventually give
in to for the promised rewards. Sen’tri generally has
the liberty of time to wait.
SPYGLASS
Elsie Trodia
Spyglass has the least corporately involved
citizenship in Sol, and even in its corporate levels it’s
typically run in cells and isolated units so one section
of the company doesn’t end up compromising another.
Spyglass makes no secret about keeping secrets, but
the secrets themselves are pretty damned secretive.
Maintaining corporate cohesion is difficult when so
many sections of your own body are worried about
what each other are up to, so special Spyglass agents
called T-cell employees travel back and forth between
subcorps and make sure no one is stepping on anyone
else’s feet or overlapping research that don’t need to
be. They’re privy to a lot of powerful information
and tend to be very canny individuals. Many Spy-
glass Shadow Presidents have been selected from
this particular pool, as it’s very well-vetted and the
members are discreet and intelligent by nature and
training. Important values, for one who would
hold the reins of a corp known for breaking rules.
But the Spyglass Shadow President has
always had a uniquely skewed job in the Spyglass
corporate structure. The traditional role of Shadow
President is somewhat less necessary in Spyglass;
the corp barely interferes with its citizenry as it is.
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
Instead, the Spyglass corporate ladder has always
relied on the Shadow President to be the sort of
“ultimate deep agent,” someone who has no trace-
able connection to the corp, but has as many assets
and materials as they need to uncover secrets and
peddle information Spyglass is too large or notice-
able to move in on. The corp has plausible deni-
ability if their Shadow President caught, and no
one knows who they are or to go looking for them
should they go missing, so anyone waiting for a res-
cue team to catch will be left wanting. Agents like
this exist on a smaller level, but the Shadow Presi-
dent is in a somewhat unique position to leverage
their power.
Kenai Trodia, a deep cover spy, inherited
the Spyglass shadow presidency when the previous
President, a T-cell employee, identified his partic-
ular talents as eminently useful to Spyglass. Kenai
was working as a set of hands for TTI research,
flying freight and moving material, but was working
his way into asset procurement, a unique TTI post
which would have him moving and securing things of
a somewhat more esoteric nature. This provided an
in for one of the most closely guarded secrets in Sol:
the inner workings of Transcendent technology.
With the assets provided to him by the Shad-
ow presidency, Kenai was able to secure his position
within TTI and maintain it for years. He formed a family
(genuinely, in fact) and provided Spyglass with more
information about Transcendence than they’d ever had
prior. But when his child was born, she possessed an
anomaly that attracted more of TTI’s attention than he
wanted. Little Elsie was a “Followed,” a child born with
a shadow that reflected the movements and silhouette
of a transcendent being, instead of herself. Extraordi-
narily rare and not fully understood, and she was right
there, the daughter of two well-known and established
TTI employees. Ripe for researching. A wonderful op-
portunity.
Kenai and his wife would spend the next ten
years trying to work themselves and their daughter
free of TTI’s grasp in various respects, both physical
and metaphorical, before ultimately meeting their de-
mise at the hands of a uniquely capable hired assas-
sin. TTI had ordered the hit in two phases: one
person to remove the parents, and another
to secure the child, so as to not inform the
assassin what the true object of value was. 163
Their need for discretion and plausible deniability
backfired, however, as their anonymous hire turned out
to be a Paleman, and who not only killed the parents
but removed the followup agent out of sheer misunder-
standing of its function in the arrangement. And so it
came that, a week later, young Elsie Trodia found her-
self staring up at a monster called Stranger and asking
if it knew where her parents were.
Elsie is currently traveling with Stranger as
an orphan and fugitive and is unaware of the fact
that her parent’s deaths have effectively passed the
mantle of Spyglass Shadow President to her. Under
normal circumstances, interaction with corp computers
would eventually clue the shadow council in on who
they should be trying to contact, but traveling with a
Paleman has kept her soundly off the grid. TTI contin-
ues to hunt her, and it will likely be years before she
slows down enough to find out about the power that
currently sits waiting in her name. It’s anyone’s guess
what will happen at that point. Her bizarre companion
keeps her safe out of a mix of genuine affection for
her and personal guilt for the murder of her family, but
Stranger is committed to his people as well. Should
those people discover the value of his Vector tagalong,
it’s a safe bet they would
want to capitalize on it,
regardless of her feelings
on the matter.
Elsie Trodia as a
Mastermind
Elsie is a party-level
NPC, meaning primarily
that the party can as-
sociate with her on a
person-to-person basis
without involving a corp
should they somehow
run into her somewhere.
She serves as Strang-
er’s mouthpiece, making
purchases they need but
that he can’t make, get-
ting information that requires interaction rather than
theft, and so on. Depending on what timeframe you
wish to set your game, Elsie could be older than how
she’s portrayed in her debut story, which would allow
the Guide to use her as a formidable combatant and
stealthy thief should one be required. Alternatively, if
you’d like a Spyglass Shadow President who actually
knows their position, you could set it prior to the death
of her father.
Elsie isn’t always with, or near, Stranger, but
she’s typically acting on his behalf. This can give the
Guide a vulnerable character to work with that needs
the party’s help to achieve some goal for her or her
“friend” that she can’t achieve alone. While she isn’t
particularly well-informed on what he is in the eyes of
Vectors, she does keep his identity a secret for both
his and her own sake. TTI wants her badly, and will pay
considerable favor for her procurement, which is a
plot you can work with if you want some morally shaky
ground to jump around on. It’s entirely possible they’ll
want to remove the party as witnesses once they have
what they wanted, though.
Even without knowing about her Presidential
status, Stranger considers Elsie an asset, both out of
friendship and because she’s a way to communicate
with Vectors without making them suspicious. He will
defend her when able and rescue her if possible. His
connection is one of many potential ways to get some
form of collaboration between the party and the
Palemen if that’s a hook you wish to play. Alternatively,
you could use a similar model on different characters
to remove the Presidential implications. Most Vector/
Monster associations are based on one-on-one friend-
ships and direct contact, so this particular situation
has likely happened in a variety of ways over different
times around Sol.
PROGENITUS centuries. Their most recent, and perhaps most pro-
found, project has been the organization and proposal
Sii’n of a large-scale attack on Terra, during which time
Dr. Gelic Saan, Progenitus scientist and bioen- Sii’n has been the Shadow President. She’s out of her
gineer, was a respected (if a tad eccentric) individual depth. Her predecessor’s memories are not her own,
with a penchant for exotic research. He also produced
results with a noteworthy degree of regularity for a
research lab. Not too surprising, when you consider the
assets he had available as Progenitus’ Shadow Pres-
ident. Dr. Saan was a fairly level-headed choice for
the position: older, experienced, and with no history of
instigation. It was thought that he would push Progen-
itus toward practical research and dial back a recent
trend of aggressive ideology the megacorp had been
exhibiting from its corporate level. It probably would
have worked, too, had he not invented Exonymphs in his
8th year on the job and gotten his brain eaten.
Whoops.
But his insectoid progeny certainly benefited
from his knowledge and enormous financial donation.
When the first Exonymph parsed the brain she had
eaten and discovered not only his status as Shadow
President, but exactly what that entailed, she realized
she had a tool that could actually give her people
a chance to thrive. They just had to be exceedingly
careful about how it was used, or they’d blow the lid
off not only themselves, but the presidency as well. So
for the next 22 years, until the natural end of Dr. Saan’s
term, the first Exonymph ran his position as he would,
calling on his thoughts and memories and maintain-
ing status quo, until the time came for her to pass
the power on to the next in line and produce the first
Exonymph Shadow President who was actually making
their own decisions rather than mimicking what the
previous Vector did. That responsibility is currently in
the hands of a young Exonymph named Sii’n, and for
the life of her, she’s got no idea what to do with it yet.
Exonymphs are in no way secure in Sol yet.
The race is barely 40 years old; it has few numbers,
fewer assets, and is trying to sort out how it should
be approaching its own situation with the help of
stolen thoughts from Vector victims. That puts them
at odds with their own situation, and Sii’n is likewise
stuck in the conundrum of having the ability to make and even he didn’t really understand things of this
decisions for millions of people who, if they knew she nature as well as he did biotech and computers. Her
existed, would want her dead. Her current goal is to own stolen minds have no input on the subjects, which
find a way to use her assets to introduce Exonymphs to leaves only her limited experience as a guideline for
Vectors in a mutually beneficial fashion, but she’s being how she should be reacting to this situation. She’s
undermined both by her own inability to resolve the adopted a “wait and see” approach, as she considers
conflicts between her needs as an Exonymph and her her lack of experience to be better curtailed if she
responsibilities to Vector-kind, and because the current tempers her activity. Her trepidation has opened doors
reigning executives of Progenitus are of a profoundly for the Progenitus executives and allowed other, more
different mindset. aggressive Presidents like Pulse’s White Queen to step
Progenitus, in general, has been trending to- in and capitalize on the situation.
ward a more aggressive, more encompassing model of
“our way is the best way,” and the candy-coated shell
is beginning to crack. The current executives are using
Sii’n as a mastermind
Sii’n is reserved and works on small scales,
the fleets almost like a police force, which is raising
but is generally considered to be compassionate and
eyebrows among the IRPF, but is supported by those
friendly. Which is, perhaps, her downfall in her current
IRPF branches that have worked under Progenitus for
 situation. She wants to work for her people, but
fears them because if she should be consumed
IRPF
The IRPF is at once the most coherent and the
herself, her knowledge (and title) would go to a
most segmented megacorp in Sol. Everyone knows who
new Exonymph who was not selected legitimate-
they are and what they do, but the way (and extent) to
ly. She wants to work for the good of Vectors, but
which they do it can vary dramatically from region to
can’t interact with them because of what she is,
region. This is by necessity: each contract has different
so she doesn’t have a great idea of what she
terms, and unless the IRPF was willing to accommodate
can do that’s good or needed. She could fill that
those terms to some degree, they’d never get hired.
void by eating more minds and gaining more insight
So they work a careful balance between providing a
into a wider array of Vector outlooks, which would
reliable “justice” model all throughout Sol and being
eventually make her the wisest leader anyone could
willing to violate it here and there because of regional
SHADOW PRESIDENCY

hope for, but doing so would require the murder of

differences.
a lot of people in a lot of different walks of life. It’s
This throws a wrench in the typical role of
a tough spot, and she could use allies.
Shadow President, as the impressions one person gets
Sii’n is a good contact if you want a name in
on the ground level in one region are very different
the Exonymph ranks that actually has the means to
from what the same person might get elsewhere in Sol.
pay the party handsomely for their services (though
Determining which needs are being met properly is
there are others that have established indepen-
somewhat dependent on knowing the region, but that’s
dent wealth on their own), or if you want a faceless
difficult to do when the corp spans three worlds and
Progenitus agent interested in genuine humanitarian
thousands of habitable stations, moons, and convoys.
acts rather than enforcement or zealotry. As an ad-
Structuring their shadow presidency in such a
versary, she tries to employ technology to make up
way as to conform to the rules of a society that doesn’t
for her lack of contacts and will default to drones
officially exist, while still maintaining rules they’ve
and vehicles where she can, rather than sending in
sworn to uphold to their actual clients, puts the IRPF in
people. She’s also a rather capable combatant on
conflict with itself in several compromising ways. Their
her own but will refrain from engaging personally
solution was to divide the presidency into key sectors
unless she’s pretty certain she has the upper hand.
to help coordinate it: a Martian sector, a Venusian
She does, however, do most of her own infiltration,
sector, a Jovian sector, and a Dark sector, which used
so it’s possible to meet her in the field.
to include Earth but now encompasses those areas the
IRPF has little official presence in, spinward of Saturn
and Sunward of Venus. These four individuals are kept
hidden from the corp they serve, as is traditional with
Shadow Presidents, but they do actually know each
other’s identities and meet in person on regular inter-
vals. A risk, certainly, but the four of them embody a
single position, so getting them all killed at one time
wouldn’t be any worse than any other Shadow Presi-
dent suffering the same fate.
The division of power allows the Shadow
Presidency to keep track of what widely divided parts
of the corp are doing and ensures that the drift isn’t
leading to irreparable schism. More than most other
corps, the IRPF presidency serves to run damage con-
trol behind the scenes, holding the corp together while
its various CEOs and local power holders push toward
splitting into segmented corps and destroying the unity
of the whole. They maintain a cool head while the
public leaders run hot, and are probably the only rea-
son the megacorp still exists as a unified entity despite
several times in history when the safe public bet would
have been on dividing it into dozens of pieces.

166

The Dark: Nikopol Shaw
The fourth quadrant of the IRPF presidency is
the most peculiar, as it encompasses an area where
the corp itself doesn’t officially exist. Naturally, if you’re
a criminal, and you know of an area the police actively
avoid, that’s where you’re going to centralize. As such,
there has been a long practice of maintaining unof-
ficial IRPF operations in areas people generally aren’t
supposed to be, in order to keep an eye on, well, all
the other people out there. The corp has no jurisdiction
in these zones, but the early warning allows them to be
ready if any of the denizens of the Dark should travel
into more populated space to do their dirty work.
Traditionally, the Dark role is played by some-
one with no family connection to the IRPF, to ensure
that they can spot the warning signs that only a native
might notice. They’re usually young and crafty, and the
location gives them the liberty to experiment with their
money and grow the IRPF franchise while reining them
in, as they can’t establish an official presence in the
areas they’re responsible for. Many IRPF technical and
strategic advancements emanate from this office.
Nikopol Shaw is the bastard son of the previous
Dark and grew up in a Grotto in Saturn’s rings. He em-
bodies many of the attributes that his position is known
for: a keen eye, a talent for tracking hidden plots to
their source, a knack for getting in where others can’t,
noticing patterns where others won’t look, and being
significantly more than the young, androgynous hybrid
he appears to be. His demeanor is disarming and his
candor is light, but it’s a personality he has carefully
honed to serve his needs.
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
The Venusian: K’ren Izzabella Ca’Co
K’ren officially serves a secretarial role in
the Fractal Shores on Venus, under the supervision
of Rio Demla. She’s a friendly face behind a desk, a
good source of information, and a great research-
er and dispatcher, but beyond that (and her leg-
endary coffee) she’s essentially forgettable. Which
is exactly the persona she chose to craft. Venus is a
large world with many places to hide, and things aren’t
always as blatant and obvious there as they are on
Mars. From her unassuming console, K’ren has access to
the entirety of the Venusian IRPF activity logs, person-
al records, and secret recordings no one else knows
about. It’s a veritable spy network, one she employs to
great effect to pull the legs out of interior and exteri-
or plots alike on a regular basis.
K’ren likes to undermine issues before they
come to anyone’s attention rather than approaching
them head on. She’s very skilled at things like flagging
illegal funding to organizations she knows exist so that
the “day shift” will notice it and take them out on their
own, and other such “little hints” that will make the IRPF
look good despite having missed it initially. Locals con-
sider her a “good luck charm” while blissfully unaware
of what her “luck” actually is.
167
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
The Martian: Sebastian Seo Re’Al
Born and raised on Mars as the son of a son
of a son (and so on) of the IRPF, Sebastian is the
quintessential hard cop. He’s maintained street-level
authority for nearly 40 years, passing up promotions
and safer work to stay where he feels he does the
most good. There are many who say his career came
to a standstill decades ago, but they tend not to say
it out loud. The man commands a lot of respect, and
he’s personally trained a sizable percentage of Mars-
Co IRPF contingents around numerous key locations like
Olympus Mons or the capital cities.
Sebastian is one of those people who wants to
do everything personally so he can be certain it’s done
correctly, and he’s got the commitment to do it. He was
given the Shadow role by a similarly minded predeces-
sor who saw in him someone who couldn’t give three
shits about the money and was focused on getting the
job done right. Narrow-thinking, perhaps, for a role of
this nature, but the IRPF shadow presidency has three
other members to rock its boat, and Sebastian helps
keep it from tipping over.
168
The Jovian: Fra’nlin Netra Fe’Mech
The Jovian sector is the most heavily conflicted
IRPF province in terms of differences in doctrine, due
largely to the enormous number of large-but-sub-me-
ga contractors that inhabit that area of space and
the presence of mainstays of corporate authority (TTI
headquarters, for instance) that have rather dramat-
ically different rules in their IRPF contracts than some
of the more “traditional” versions. Keeping this zone
coherent requires someone who can bridge the culture
gaps between what the IRPF needs you to be and what
the local populous wants you to be.
Fra’nlin is a Cog businessman by day, and is
rumored to be a master criminal by night. Sizable
portions of the IRPF are actually spying on his own shell
companies, which helps him keep track of who is where
over large distances. By throwing false leads, he steers
the fleets toward real issues and gives them collabo-
rative victories that foster trust despite differences in
doctrine. A dapper and well-read individual, he has
quite the silver tongue (no robot pun intended), and he
believes in bending the word of the law to preserve its
spirit, here and there.
PULSE
The White Queen
Ironside Codi1 was one of the greatest ad-
venturers in Pulse history. This man made a name for
himself by topping each feat of public endurance and
extravagance with a greater one. His life was a spec-
tacle. The media loved him, the fans loved him, popular
culture loved him. He was witty and smart, fast and
strong, and a prime subject for everyone to want to be
like. Ironside held the position of Pulse Shadow Pres-
ident for over 20 years, and if there were records for
such things, he would probably go down in history as
one of the most appreciated ones from the standpoint
of the Pulse execs. Pulse is in a unique position among
megacorps: while it does have a few closet activities
it would like to keep hidden, it is, by and large, what
it appears to be. Frankly, there’s more than enough to
do just trying to keep ahead of trends and keeping
the public excited and engaged and entertained to
leave time for too many dark secrets. Having someone
with power on the street level help push the company’s
money this way and that was actually an asset, and for
the 20 years that Ironside held the position and the 30
years prior, wherein the position was held by a simi-
larly-minded individual who would eventually pass the
title to Ironside himself, Pulse
was at the top of its
game. They were
getting great
information
from their anonymous source, their shadow funds
were being spent to produce fantastically profit-
able events and products, and they were getting
confirmation on just about every over-the-top idea
they came up with.
Ironside’s great hunts in the Venusian
wilds are the subject of many fantastic videos,
but his obsession with competition was somewhat
deeper than that. Part of the issue with having
limitless funds available to you is that you have
the ability to fulfill urges that are best left alone.
For Ironside, the dream of a hunt with intelligent,
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
sapient prey got his heart pumping in ways his
usual endeavors could not, and he would regularly
take clandestine shuttles to Longbow, a fractured
Bluesky station populated by laterals who had given
up Vector social standards to live a wild life, to
test his mettle against more worthy foes. He was
a scourge on that station, but the station itself
didn’t begrudge it. Such was the cutthroat nature
of Longbow: the hunt was part of life. As Ironside
stepped off his ship every visit, he could feel the
heat and the danger of a brutal, intelligent popu-
lation that wanted him dead, and expected him to
fight back just as hard. It was Valhalla, and he lived
for it. And died for it, repeatedly. Pulse has fewer
qualms about cloning and resurrection than most
megacorps, and the Shadow President made
use of his safety net.
Ironside had arranged a personal
agreement with himself that he
found sufficient for his situation.
One death. And when he came
back to life, he’d tip his hat to
Longbow and never return.
Except that it happened,
and he found himself
unable to accept the de-
feat. He returned and
was beaten again,
and again, either
barely escaping with
his life or outright
dying, all without
ever seeing his
quarry. He didn’t
know who or what
it was, but it would
poison him, fool him,
ambush him, trap him,
see through his tech-
nology and his tactics and
leave him in ruins every time.
A better hunter. And on his 6th
attempt, it took his title, too.
The folly of every “hunter” that trav-
els to Longbow is the assumption that they’ve
properly gauged the locals. From his first
visit, Ironside had been observed by an even
more cunning predator, one that wasn’t just 169
 watching him, but his accounts, his equipment,
all the things he kept hidden from the public but
was sloppy about here, where he’d lost himself in
the illusion of solitude, and didn’t realize how much
of himself he was giving away.
His quarry was a nameless white lateral fox,
born on Longbow, known by her society as the
White Queen. She was ruthless, cunning, devoid of
compassion or sympathy, and radiated a cold, near-
ly sociopathic hatred for traditional Vector society.
Their ways, their tools, their buildings and currency,
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
their so-called morals, it turned her stomach. She
punished every Vector that set foot in Longbow,
painfully and permanently. Typically, they didn’t
come back, so when this one resurrected not once,
but multiple times, she took notice. She threw her
minions at him while investigating his ship. She lured
him with fresh prey while examining his computers.
She dragged his corpses to bioscanners collected
from previous Vectors and had his brain dredged.
And by the time she’d ended the poor bastard for
the sixth time, she had all the information she need-
ed to redirect the shadow council to accept her as
the President instead of him. Ironside didn’t come
back from his 6th death, and the White Queen took
his place as Pulse’s Shadow President.
The White Queen is a pitiless individual who
particularly enjoys using people’s greed and want
of material goods to manipulate them into doing
her bidding. Her personal goals certainly aren’t in
line with Pulse, but she recognizes the megacorp as
the greatest tool she could possibly hope for, and
as such has not worked to actively overthrow it. She
has, however, made numerous decisions that have
the Pulse board dumbfounded and terrified about
the sudden behavioral shift of their silent partner, and
has the whole corp traveling in strange new direc-
tions. It was the White Queen that committed Pulse to
a partnership with Progenitus for the planned attack
on the ruby spire on Earth. While the resulting media
spectacle has brought in money, the cost vs. return on
this particular endeavor is far from a sure thing, and
it’s not like everyone is entirely on board with the idea.
Little do they know her true reasons for wanting a
paw on the bridge of the fleets of not one, but three
megacorp fleets.
The White Queen as a mastermind
The White Queen makes for a good “villain” if
you want someone in a powerful position the players
can feel good about hating. She has a certain logic
and purity to her actions, but the cultural revolution she
wants to promote is incompatible with modern life and
may as well be looked at as insane, or at least highly
destructive. As a lateral fox, her physical presence is
not terribly impressive, but she makes exceeding-
ly good use of money and her own ability to
judge people’s character, and can typically
170 throw waves of hired guns at the party to
keep them occupied with all the concern of someone
tossing bread crumbs to birds.
The Queen works using misdirection as her
primary tactic and will arrange multiple elaborate
situations in order to throw attention off of whatever
it is she’s actually trying to do. She also pursues goals
in macro terms, meaning, for instance, that if she wants
a particular file on one particular well-protected
computer destroyed, she will bring the entire building
down to get to it rather than risk a failed infiltration.
Or she’ll bring the neighboring building down on top
of it, if its security is lower. Collateral damage rarely
concerns her, provided she isn’t losing a valuable asset
because of it. Rest assured, she won’t be nearby. She
typically works several layers deep in her own network
of operatives. The ones who report to her directly are
loyal through adoration, rather than money. She’s intel-
ligent, powerful, and ambitious, and those who served
her in Longbow have called her “queen” long before
she ever had a bank account to match the title.
TTI
Temper Victoria
Being a Europan-born native generally carries
a degree of superstition along with it. It’s part of the
culture there, particularly regarding parts of the water,
Jupiter itself, and various day-to-day activities. Nev-
ertheless, Europa boasts marvelous schools, top rate
jobs, and TTI corporate headquarters, which is pretty
much Sol’s mecca for astrobiology. So what you tend
to end up with is a whole lot of smart people who feel
irrational fear and suspicion toward benign things and
can’t provide an explanation for it beyond “you have
to have lived there.” Vexes the crap out of Ganymede;
they orbit the same world but share very few of the
same social issues.
Temper is one such individual. Frighteningly in-
telligent, extremely well-read, profoundly capable, and,
much to her own annoyance, somewhat steered by her
own social programming. She was born an orca/harp
seal hybrid (already a rare morphism) but to two seal
parents. Species hopping in children isn’t unheard of in
Sol; the nature of cross-compatible genealogy in Vec-
tor DNA means that, on rare occasions, children will
actually hop species to something a few generations
back in the family line. But this is one rarity stacked on
another, making her even more anomalous. Add to that
the fact that there had never been an orca in Temper’s
family line, and the mystery deepened. Genetic testing
easily ruled out adultery as the culprit, but did little
to identify the source of her appearance. And so the
rumors and conjecture began, and leading to a life in
which she was viewed by the local populace as some-
thing more than “normal,” for better or for worse.
She showed an aptitude for astrobiology at
an early age which led to work in bioprobe devel-
opment for outer space and deep oceans, two areas
with particular theological importance for Europans.
Skills in transcendent modification of biology sent
her deep into TTI’s research division, where she spent
years arranging expeditions to research the monolith
in Europa’s ocean while avoiding orca detection. She’s
spent more time in the dark and the deep than is at
all healthy, and while those who work with her would
probably refrain from calling her “perky,” she appears
to have emerged from her experiences emotionally
unscathed. And that’s saying something. Direct orca
research of that level is typically a lifelong career, but
the hands-on, expedition portion has a burnout rate
of a few missions at best, assuming you survive them.
After that, the sounds in the dark begin to sink
in, resulting in paranoia or worse if the exposure
continues. Temper has the most deep-submergence
time of any currently living Vector, and by a fair
margin. It’s said she understands what’s down
there more than she lets on, and many have conjec-
tured that her orca hybridization might not actually
be the result of a Vector orca heritage, but the
influence of something more sinister.
Officially, Temper is a TTI employee with the
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
title “Illuminor,” which is one part public relations
and one substantially larger part researcher, tasked
with finding the truth in the places no one wants to
look. It’s an important position with a full staff and
a hefty budget, but it’s a job, like any other, and has
had many occupants over the centuries. The position
of Shadow President was given to her only three
years ago by its previous occupant, who served as
captain on several of the expeditions into the deep
that she herself arranged and accompanied. His
priority had always been to uncover a definitive
truth in the monolith that could be harnessed to
stop the spread of Hydra, but he had reached the
end of his leads. Temper represented a whole new
level of comprehension, and he decided that she
should be given the assets she might need to make
real progress.
She’s succeeded, but only by traveling
deeper into the abyss, both physically and meta-
phorically, than she likely should have. Temper has
gone through considerable effort to ignore her own
hype and approach her life from a logical, level
approach, but the more she brushes with those
greater beings, the more she finds patterns where
none should exist, or makes sense of the senseless, the
harder it becomes to ignore the superstition attached
to her own existence. There is a part of her that fears
she is, in fact, what she’s rumored to be, and she isn’t
sure when or how that will manifest. If she is some sort
of new orca influence, her very existence is a threat of
enormous proportions. In order to justify her continued
operation among equipment she knows is horribly dan-
gerous if she should somehow “turn,” she has adopted
a mentality of action without hesitation, with the ends
ultimately justifying the means. With the lives she’s lost
so far, and the ones she may yet take before this is
over, to do less than go all the way would make those
sacrifices meaningless.
Temper as a mastermind:
Temper is a good mastermind or contact for
transcendent plotlines. This particular Shadow Pres-
ident is a convenient NPC because she actually oc-
cupies a legitimate high ranking position in TTI,
which is a rarity among Shadow Presidents (it’s
somewhat contradictory to their “everyman”
role, but her predecessor recognized very
171
 specific talents he wanted to use to further TTI’s
advancement in her.) If being used as an ene-
my, Temper does most of her work from the Spire
and will typically only go on actual missions if they
involve deep contact with experimental lifeforms,
such as errant bioships or orca zones. Europa is
her safe-zone, and she rarely leaves it. Part of
her work involves parsing information, so she’s an
excellent contact for trading secrets relating to
biotechnology or transcendent technology, but she
will typically do this through pseudonyms online.
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
Temper isn’t one to arrange assassinations or
go to war-it just isn’t on her list of important things
to do-but she is fully capable of putting aside her
empathy to accomplish a needed goal. While her
crews don’t know her for “throwing lives away,” they
do recognize that she has an established value
attached to any given ship and the people onboard
it, and if that value needs to be spent in order to
secure a prize of greater value, she will spend it.
“Cold” is often used to describe her, and while she
can smile and laugh and enjoy a drink like most
people, on a certain level, there is a dangerous
mind pondering what sort of tactic will be needed
to accomplish her goals, and how many of these
assets will have to be spent to do so. Between
years of Whisper and monolith research and her
full knowledge of TTI’s history, she long ago decid-
ed that the universe itself needed to be protected
from Hydra, more than just the local Vector popula-
tion. Thinking on this scale affords her the greatest
chance of success, but it could mean that the entire
extinction of her race would be an acceptable loss
if it somehow accomplished that goal.
MarsCo
MarsCo is too large to have a traditional
Shadow Council. The parts of MarsCo that oper-
ate in just one portion of one world in Sol qualify as
megacorps in and of themselves. It’s so enormous; even
splitting the power up like the IRPF does wouldn’t really
allow for a blanket view of the entire populace with-
out providing a dangerously large number of people
with the power to destabilize the entire solar economy.
But the system in true control of MarsCo is somewhat
more capable of managing these things than the peo-
ple who make up its board.
Sen’tri has served as MarsCo’s Shadow Council
since the position existed to occupy and is the means
by which the Shadow President can effectively im-
plement change on a solar scale. It facilitates their
requests, manipulates MC assets to their whims, and
facilitates the astronomical amount of networking
and money-moving it takes to convert a command into
action through such a massive organization. Its integral
position as the overseer of MarsCo’s infrastructure
also grants it a hefty degree of protection: it’s
difficult to coerce or threaten something that
172 the largest organization in Sol literally can’t
function without.
Nevertheless, the actual Shadow President of
MarsCo is not its AI, but a normal person, and always
has been. Their role in the corporate structure general-
ly isn’t as profound as it is in other megacorps (MarsCo
is held in a bit of a perpetual state of stagnation by
the other corps around it who collectively get pret-
ty anxious when it starts shaking things up), but their
role in the course of history can be significantly more
remarkable.
Being given the MarsCo Shadow Presidency
is a bit more “angelic” than other corps. It’s like being
given a golden ticket and permission to change the
known universe. With MarsCo’s assets at your disposal,
you can achieve damn near anything you decide needs
achieving, and that is, primarily, how the position has
been used. Each new President has a dream, and they
leverage Sen’tri’s connections to bring that dream
into being. It’s a prerequisite to the post; the previous
President selects someone with the right personality,
the right ambition, the right vision (by their standards
anyway) and gives them the ultimate tool to make that
vision reality.
There are a few checks in place (the big
one being Sen’tri itself) but by and large the system
is designed to facilitate the sorts of decisions that
would probably never make it through the normal
system without raising too many eyebrows or meet-
ing too much public scorn in the short term, to arrive
at social, technological, or economical advances that
impact the solar system in a dramatic way. “Dramatic”
is emphasized over “positive.” Several MarsCo Shadow
Presidents have substantial death tolls attached to
their names, and most MarsCo Shadow Presidents have
arranged the destruction of at least one corp during
their term because they felt it was inherently harmful
to their ideal. They are Kingslayers, media barons, en-
trepreneurs, soldiers, and visionaries. And the position
is currently vacant.
Two terms ago, the MarsCo shadow presiden-
cy belonged to a man who was haunted by the num-
ber of people he’d sent to die during the early years
of his title. It had been a bloody reign, and one with
arguably meager returns on the investment of lives. He
had waged his battles remotely, without fully compre-
hending how many people crewed his ships, or fought
for a goal that fighting wouldn’t achieve. In the end,
he would take his own life, but not before instruct-
ing Sen’tri to find a successor from within the infantry
combat lines of MarsCo’s reserve. He wanted to give
the power to someone who had seen combat from the
ground level, so that they might find a better way to
use it without squandering people’s lives like they were
money.
Sen’tri chose a coyote named Nicodemus Shaw,
based on a variety of personality assessments and
qualifications outlined by the previous President. Nico-
demus was a career soldier, having fought in dozens
of operations for all sorts of MarsCo affiliates. He had
contacts in the fleets, the foot troops, and just about
every other branch of armed forces you could think up.
A solid individual, respected for his cool head and the
way he treated those who were under his command.
Not the sort of person who had ever sought power.
When it was thrust upon him, he was at a bit of a loss
as to how to use it.
Nicodemus didn’t consider himself qualified
for the position he now carried, so he pocketed the
power until he could find someone who was. It turned
out to be a rather beneficial, if subdued, approach.
He maintained his position in the active combat ros-
ter but manipulated his assignments to allow him to
better vet potential replacements. As he traveled, he
improved the little things. He created new units that
better capitalized on varying morphisms. He improved
communication channels between ships and infantry. He
changed the buckles on standard armor so they’d be
more secure when wet. Little things that only the peo-
ple at the bottom of the heap would notice, but were
too low down to do anything about. Without even real-
izing he was doing it, he was slowly improving the lives
of MarsCo career soldiers everywhere, in a way that
was sustainable. Sen’tri eventually slapped a title on
the entire slew of gradual upgrades and arranged a
publicity front that credited MarsCo execs for it, and
the public ate it up. For the 6-odd years he served,
Nicodemus did more to help his people than he’d ever
live to realize.
He died in combat, protecting his partner
from a vehicular attack that intelligence had failed
to anticipate during an operation. An accident, but an
avoidable one, had the right people been paying the
right amount of attention. Exactly the sort of thing he’d
been working on improving as he moved around differ-
ent assignments in Sol. He never selected a successor
before his death, which generally meant that the pow-
er returned to Sen’tri to give to whom it willed based
on preexisting criteria. But Sen’tri had taken particular
interest in Nicodemus’ methods, and the sorts of people
he inspired simply by being around to teach, train, and
help. The shadow network narrowed the possible re-
placements to several key people who were particular-
ly close to Nicodemus and would be most influenced by
his methods, and is currently holding the title in limbo
and waiting to see which one fits the final require-
ments.
In the meantime, MarsCo has no active Shadow
President, and while the corp as a whole isn’t neces-
sarily feeling the lack (they’ve got plenty to do on their
own) it’s causing a power vacuum among the other
Shadow Presidents that is leading to more bold steps
than might normally be taken. Sen’tri is aware of this,
but it is bound by certain rules of succession and, hav-
ing committed to Nicodemus’ ideals for a new Presi-
dent, needs to wait until those conditions are met.
The Shadow Presidency in the Universe
Using the Shadow Presidents in your narrative
allows you to scale up the importance of certain plots
involving corporate activity. You’re going to want
to avoid using them in every plot, but encounter-
ing one as an NPC instantly ramps up whatever it
is you’re currently investigating if they have some
stake in it. They make for fun meta-characters, too.
In the game’s setting, it’s very unlikely any of them
would ever willingly tell the party who they are
or what corp they’re associated with, but having
the players know what the character’s don’t know
can be fun in situations like these. It will make them
inherently suspicious of any missions they’re given or
things they hear, even if they don’t actually need to
SHADOW PRESIDENCY
be. Play with that; it can keep them on their toes.
Using the Shadow Presidents as master-
minds for various plots is a good way to work them
into your stories if you want to. They’re all very cun-
ning people, with an eye for the big picture. Having
your party get caught up in one (or more) of their
schemes can help you flavor an adventure a bit,
especially if you implement some of their personal
twists. The characters will think they’re dealing with
some sort of master criminal or high ranking corp
officer, most likely, but the players will know bet-
ter, and even if they never actually get to meet the
shadow entity they’re assisting or thwarting, they’ll
know their actions had direct effect on the great-
er environment of the setting, which is often more
satisfying than a small-town adventure if you’ve run
those a few times.
This book provides you with the identities
and personalities of the current universe Shadow
Presidents, but, as always, I don’t want you to feel
confined to the parameters listed here when craft-
ing your own adventures. This is one era in HSD. You
could substitute other NPCs for these positions if
they serve your story better, or work plots about them
being missing or compromised. The books may refer-
ence these characters in the future in order to provide
a more coherent universe, but it is ultimately your deci-
sion who you put in which chair.
Be very cautious about giving this power to the
party. While you’re certainly welcome to, the game isn’t
really structured with the intent of handing those sorts
of assets over to the players. But, should you decide
to tempt fate, keep in mind that the Shadow Presi-
dent doesn’t actually run the day to day operations
of any of the megacorps, nor can they expose them-
selves without risk of swift and deadly response. They
essentially have veto-power, a veeeeerry large bank
account, and all the corp’s toys to play with. Their ve-
to-power is also a somewhat touchy tool. There’s only
so many times they can shut down a project before the
corp starts working around them, which will necessi-
tate personal involvement or assassination to maintain
the President’s power. While this is indeed a powerful
position, it remains that way by being careful with how
often or obtrusively that power is used.
173
 Most faceted realities have qualities that can be latched onto via transcendent code. You can think of them like
founding rules. The lesser TTI courses use physics as an example for our own reality, but when you spend enough time in the
thick of transcendent phenomena, you learn otherwise. Physics isn’t so much one of our rules as it is a byproduct of our rules
existing. The true rules, the actual rules, I’m not sure we could ever really transcribe. Specifically because they don’t exist at
our level of manipulation. We are forever in witness to the symptoms rather than the cause, so to speak. We may even be
symptoms ourselves.
But if I were to hazard a guess, I would classify one of zero-cuil’s specific rules as “scale,” in that our reality han-
dles scale in particular ways. Size and amount have relationships in every object we can witness, and it is difficult to even
conceive of a reality where those two things do not play a mappable role in the fabric of existence (though I know such
places do exist). Scale is easy to describe mathematically, but if physics is the byproduct of a rule rather than a rule itself, I
question the wisdom in defining all of reality in numbers. Lately, as the value of biology in regards to transcendent manipu-
lation have become clearer to me, I’ve looked toward emotion to measure what math leaves behind.
I believe in an innate ability of the creatures inside a reality to recognize the rules of that reality, even if they’re
not consciously aware of it. I think we have within us certain tools for recognizing how our environment functions on levels
that exceed figures in an equation. We have, for instance, an innate sensation keyed to the recognition of scale. All scale,
be it differences in size, or severity, value or danger, risk, reward, distance. All of it. It’s a rather remarkable tool, because
it conveys in feeling what numerical distances leave behind when viewed, and can map nuances across different vectors of
scale. It is extremely fine tuned, and I regret that as of yet there has been very little done to interpret it properly.
It is fear. Fear is our emotional recognition of universal scale, functioning across every facet of existence from the
size of a task to the scale of a threat to the breadth of our own moral depravity. And as we better comprehend scale, our
fear lessens, until we encounter a new expansion to our scale and experience a new fear specific to it. It is so powerful a
sensor that our consciousness sometimes cannot even tolerate its input. As we release Transcendent Technology to Sol, I feel
it is important to emphasize the importance of a recognition of fear to our scientists, rather than the dismissal of it. Mea-
sure it. Qualify it. This data may prove more important toward the further development of this technology than any other.
-Taln Hiemdal
 TRANSCENDENCE
In the Beginning
Over 700 years ago a great war brought the
end of a race in a crucible of fire ignited by a
previously unheard of program named Hydra. Prior
to its attack, Hydra succeeded in invading every
enemy computer system, every missile control system,
TRANSCENDENCE
and every independent and networked console. It
hopped from machine to machine through means
of transmission that defied reason, from radio to
audio to visual to digital, writing itself into soft-
ware and burning itself into
hardware, until its control
was, in the end, absolute.
The ultimate infiltrator. And
yet despite its astronomical
success, it had never been
patented, never been pub-
licized, never even had a
development team assigned
to its creation. It seemed
to be a solution from no-
where, and one that could,
conceivably, have saved
millions of lives had it been
implemented sooner. The
end result of that operation
was, of course, more tragic
than anticipated, but it does
shine a certain light on the
hesitance to use it.
Officially, transcen-
dent technology was invented
by Transcendent Technology
Incorporated around 600 years
after the fall of humanity. Un-
officially, it had been worked
on centuries earlier, using data
collected from archives left
over by humanity itself. It was discovered, not invent-
ed, some 20 years prior to the war when deep space
probes scanning Europa caught a radio reflection
they couldn’t identify and passed it back to Earth for
examination. Scientists at aerospace centers around
the world oo’d and ahh’d and passed the information
through a host of tests before ultimately deciding the
reflection must be originating from some shape below
Europa’s icy surface. Excitement mounted, and plans
were put in motion to dispatch a more substantial
probe to the Jovian moon, but fate would have other
plans for the species before it ever came to fruition. In
the meantime, all the collected data from the reflec-
tions was accumulated at the probe’s research
center and parsed for careful review. A new
176
team was dedicated to this examination of
what might very well be an alien structure,
and was given the appropriate title: Project Echo.
As higher and higher definition scans through
different energy bombardment made their way back
to Echo’s labs, the shape and surface of the under-
sea mystery began to materialize. The findings were
shocking: an enormous structure, clearly artificial, with
bizarre reflections that could only be interpreted as
carvings on its surface, but which threw back erro-
neous numbers when the computer tried to calculate
their shape. In an attempt to get a clearer view of
what they were dealing with, Echo scientists tasked
an atomic printer (largely used in the massive Geomat
systems) to print the shape using direct data as it was
inputted, rather than trying to get the computer to un-
derstand it. The result was a fractal sculpture that con-
tained more angles than were
mathematically possible given
its form. Somehow, the design
had created a sort of sec-
ond “pocket,” through which
additional dimensions of the
object could be witnessed
without actually existing.
It threw science for a
loop for a while, as the tools
to measure such an event
didn’t exist, and every con-
ventional means of mapping
it seemed to through errone-
ous or unpredictable results.
It was eventually discovered
that the anomaly was actually
a portal, through which an
abstraction of reality could
be witnessed. A breakthrough,
but a difficult one to quantify.
It was impossible to map the
abstraction because there
was no way to judge the
“distance” of anything within
it. There were no objects, or
landmarks, or anything any
machine or measurement sys-
tem could attach a number to. It was simply there, but
different. In the future, TTI would eventually develop a
system for mapping the extent of abstraction, dubbed
Cuil, based off a word they found floating around in
digital flotsam from the dislocated mess of Earth’s ar-
chives that seemed related to the situation. In the past,
Earth scientists chose a different route. They asked for
directions from the other side.
Through multiplicative replication of the orig-
inal gateway structure, it was possible to produce a
larger access point into the abstraction area. Care-
ful testing showed they could send an object into the
abstraction and get it back again intact, but when live
subjects were used, they never seemed quite the same.
Brain hemorrhaging was common. Bouts of insanity,
depression, paranoia, even euphoria, all without any
explanation of what it is they saw. For those poor few
human subjects that stepped through the breech and
into the unknown, even attempting to remember what
they witnessed there seemed to force their brains
down pathways never meant to be tread by sapient
minds. Mechanical recording was no better. Beyond a
few visible feet of the entrance, things went from bi-
zarre to maddening. It didn’t take long to discover that
things from this reality weren’t going to have much
luck traveling into that one. They decided to beam a
high-energy projection through the portal to serve as
a beacon, and hope that something on the other side
would see it, and knew a little bit more about what
Not for the first time, they chose the former. A very
human habit, and one that would filter into the race
of Vectors many years later.
Where the first glyph appeared to be a sort
of doorway into different abstractions, this new one
seemed to function as a sort of communications
nexus. Energy beamed into the first portal went
nowhere, but energy beamed into this new glyph
would return, modified, and modified reliably. It
was exactly what the Echo team had hoped for: a
way to map exact change through the breech. The
excitement of the discovery overshadowed the still

TRANSCENDENCE
they were doing. unanswered question of where the information had
come from, or why it had cost a man’s life to get
Five days after the it. As experiments pro-
beacon was activated, a gressed and the nature
scientist working near the of the new configuration
breach exploded. was explored, some of
those answers began to
Spontaneous human emerge.
detonation is not a contin- The new glyph ap-
gency for which there were peared to transmit
standard operating proce- information based on
dures in place, even in labs the context of the object
such as that one. It took a in which it was etched.
while to sort through the When built into a solid
fallout of the event. Videos object like a stone, it res-
were watched, recordings onated with other stones
examined, witnesses ques- around it, causing strange
tioned, but for all the world distortions among each
it looked like the man simply new rock within its field of
flew apart in every direction, influence. If a rock was dam-
as though subjected to explo- aged, the other rocks within
sive decompression. It wasn’t the area would mimic that
until the mess was cleaned damage, though it would
that the true nature of the fracture and scale in pecu-
event became clear. As the liar ways, sometimes even
viscera was cleared and the jutting out from the surface
parts collected, the blood left rather than gouging in. What
behind on the floor refused was more, every new stone
to mop clean. It left behind affected became a new
cryptic and twisted patterns origin, radiating outward in
on the cold surface, and a fresh radius. Great care
the blood that was now stuck to it had changed on a had to be taken to avoid allowing resonating objects
fundamental level. Microscopic examination revealed near test chambers, as it would be exceedingly sim-
patterns within it that contained the same extra-di- ple to cascade the effect out of control and into the
mensional properties as the portal fractals did, but did surrounding geography.
not follow the same pattern. Same phenomenon, new When experiments were done with digital
configuration. They had received their response. objects, the effects were even more profound. Appar-
The decision to feed the new designs into the ently having a language, like code, built into the device
nanoprinter was surely met with protest, though it’s im- allowed the effects of the glyph to transfer more flu-
possible to say how much. The information had cost a ently. By beaming a digital signal through the glyph by
man’s life and had stemmed from a discovery that had means of radio or other energy, the signal would dupli-
robbed several others of their sanity, and caused more cate out of any new device in the glyph’s sphere of
than one fatality all on its own. There was no context influence. Rapid reprogramming of completely different
with which to determine the safety or results of running machines could take place provided they used the
this new, alien code, and thus far, the only direct con- same code, as could their rapid destruction. The
tact any of them knew of had been lethal. Science sat amazing thing was the machines, much like
between a responsibility toward progress and discov- the stones, did not need to be interconnect-
ery, and a responsibility toward safety and restraint. ed. The scientists surmised that the signal 177
 was traveling from device to device through the
adjacent abstraction of reality, where the rules
for such communication were different. But it didn’t
need to be exact, like programming language. It
was almost like the intent, the “thinking” behind the
command was carried with it, interpreted, and
executed. It spoke of intelligence. This new glyph
was almost like having a guide on the other side
who could take what you were giving it and pass it
on to everything else in your reality that had similar
properties. The possibilities for its exploitation were
limitless. Based on the glyph’s ability to create new
TRANSCENDENCE
copies of itself across similar objects, growing new
“heads” as it expanded, the project echo scientists
dubbed it “Hydra.”
Behind the Scenes
Humanity never learned what Hydra actual-
ly was before they met their untimely end, though
they had, as a collective species, encountered it
many times in smaller, less controlled circumstances
throughout their existence. It was assumed to be
a system; some sort of guidance code distributed
by another race when it discovered new visitors, to
lead them to abstracted realities. Theories were
even put forward of it being a leave-behind from a
sort of “future humanity,” as the abstractions didn’t
seem to interpret time in quite the same linear
fashion our own reality does. It would be the bet-
ter half of a thousand years before TTI scientists
figured out a means of categorizing what it was they
were dealing with, and even they don’t have the full
picture.
When an object from this reality (dubbed “zero
Cuil” on TTI’s scale) travels to a different reality, the
object remains physically the same, but is affected by
the conditions of the new reality. A person from zero
cuil is the same person in a 2 cuil, but will interpret the
conditions of that reality through their zero cuil senses.
In minor abstractions (Cuil 1, 2) this can be disorienting
and troubling but is typically not debilitating or dan-
gerous. As reality becomes more and more abstracted
from established physical norms, the body has a harder
and harder time coping with it. It’s more than things
simply “being what they shouldn’t,” the very nature of
physics changes. Air could flow like water and taste
like Wednesday, and the ground becomes the square
root of purple. Before long, the brain is no longer
capable of comprehending its inputs, and begins to
shut them down in self-defense. That’s in a lucky sce-
nario. For those unlucky enough to attempt and mus-
cle through it, the brain might attempt to write new
relations between cause and effect (which, in some
instances, may not even be related anymore), which will
most assuredly drive its owner insane.
Transcendent manifestations are entities that can
travel from cuil to cuil while maintaining their
coherence. While most entities lose their
178 bearing when becoming abstracted, the
lifeforms dubbed “transcendent” are capable of func-
tioning normally, or rather, what passes for “normal”
to them. They diverge from the previous example in
that, when they travel to an adjacent reality, they are
not affected by the conditions of the new reality. Only
through extreme damage or disruption can a transcen-
dent manifestation be forced to abide by the rules of
nature in whatever cuil they’re currently in. On their
own, they seem able to outright ignore what passes
for “physics.” TTI classifies these as “manifestations” or
“visitors.”
Long before the colonization of Europa, the
early Transcendent Technologies Incorporated was
already working with ancient human history, theory,
recorded events and secret probes of their own to try
and categorize the unknown forces at work behind the
death of the third planet. This work was not public.
TTI was a sizable but otherwise not-very-noteworthy
biotech exploration corp out near the inner belt at
the time, whose funding was split between sensational
experiments with astrobiology (at that point a very du-
bious field) and secret interior research. By this stage,
they had uncovered documents from the owl incident,
the original Hydra code, and all the surviving material
that could still be found from Project Echo.
They classified Hydra as a MCM, or Meta-Cuil
Manifestation. Like transcendent manifestations, me-
ta-cuil manifestations are entities, not a program or
automated service as was guessed by human scientists.
MCM’s have a unique qualifier, however. Rather than
traveling from one abstraction to another, MCM’s
exist in every cuil simultaneously. A single entity whose
“components” are linked through time and space.
Independently, pieces of an MCM behave like normal
objects: obeying the rules and laws of whatever reality
they currently inhabit. Unlike normal objects however,
MCM components are not disoriented in new realities,
as they have an innate understanding of every aspect
of reality they can perceive. This transcendent intelli-
gence also grants them bizarre abilities that stretch
the limits of scientific understanding. It can be thought
of as a blind person whose world is slowly illuminat-
ed to it one small dot at a time. And when something
becomes seen, they automatically know every aspect of
whatever it is they’re looking at.
MCM’s don’t break physics in the same way
transcendent manifestations do, but instead use it,
employing a supernatural understanding only available
to a creature who sees the laws of a Cuil as though
they have been neatly organized in a line of program-
ming code. This makes them at once easier and more
difficult to relate to. Easier, because the visible com-
ponents of an MCM typically make some degree of
sense when they’re interacted with. They follow rules
like gravity, or momentum, and can be restrained or
destroyed. More difficult, because the inherent simi-
larities between the physical aspects of the MCM and
ourselves makes us instinctively attach motives to their
actions, which is a fundamentally flawed concept. In
a way, the motives and actions of an MCM are even
more abstract and alien than a transcendent manifes-
tation’s are, and trying to figure out what one “wants”
is a good way to run forever in the wrong direction.
When humanity opened their gateway into
a new reality and sent a signal through containing
encoded language, they illuminated communication to
Hydra on the other side. Now in possession of a path-
way, it needed only a means of transmission. It in-
scribed itself in the unfortunate scientist at the breach,
passed on the means of its propagation in a cryptic
scrawl on the floor, and human curiosity did the rest.
Each time the Hydra glyph was put into a new system,
be it computerized or mechanical, elemental or bio-
logical, that system became illuminated to the Hydra
MCM, and it could exert control over that object or
things like it. It was to humanities benefit that the
amount of access they allowed to Hydra was compar-
atively limited next to what Vectors would do years
later, but their restraint, unfortunately, fell apart during
that final pivotal moment in the war.
While its motives may not even translate into
anything logic or language can understand, Hydra’s
actions do seem to have a measurable and common
goal. It is seeking ways to propagate its glyph. TTI
scientists call this behavior “illumination,” or the act of
an MCM becoming aware of more aspects of a new
cuil. The process naturally differs from reality to reality,
but as time and energy are not factors in an MCM’s
behavior, the process it chooses need not necessarily
be what we might define as “efficient.” Their meth-
ods can change as the MCM gains more and more
understanding of the cuil it’s illuminating, and as each
of the natural laws of that Cuil flood into the gestalt
intelligence of the MCM through each new acquisition,
it can refine its technique until, eventually, it creates a
thing capable of expanding through every aspect of
a cuil, and widening the MCM’s view without relying
on any pre-existing system within the cuil itself. Hu-
manity would never live to see this stage; they ended
when Hydra was still exploring electricity and relied on
human technology to propagate it, but the race called
Vector would eventually come to face a far more phys-
ical form of the Hydra MCM, capable of propagating
itself without assistance.
The First Whisper
Project Echo did not die on Earth. While it
isn’t known exactly how the files relating to the proj-
ect made the trip to Mars, it is clear they didn’t come
through established channels. No human brought the
Echo project or a copy of the portal or Hydra glyphs
with them. The files simply “appeared” one day, scat-
tered here and there in disjointed fragments across a
variety of different computers during one of the final
downloads from Earth before there was nothing left
to transmit. Lots of fragmented information was be-
ing sent up at that time; frantic attempts to preserve
humanity’s knowledge. The files were automatically
marked, categorized, collected, and stashed away for
later. At the time, they didn’t all seem particular-
ly useful. There was information in there related
to thought programming and engram research
that would be put to more immediate use, but the
strange stuff, the stuff without context, was filed
away to be viewed at a less frantic time.
The collection of humans specializing in
the sciences and mathematics required to ex-
ploit the information was limited, as most of Mars’
scientific population was focused on biology. No one
dove deep enough into the files to discover exactly
what it was they were about, and Mars was go-
TRANSCENDENCE
ing to have a hard enough time keeping afloat so
soon after the fall of Earth without tangling with a
project almost no one understood. It wasn’t until cu-
rious scientists dug through the digital rubble that
the research saw the light of day again, first as an
accidental discovery, and later as a critical piece of
history for the then-new Transcendent Technologies
Incorporated.
The revelation that the Hydra sequence
could be encoded in biological structures as readily
as it could be in digital ones came of the combined
(and clandestine) efforts of a bio-scientist named
Dr. Richard Jacobs, in charge of the Availe phase of
the Omega generation, and a physicist named Dr.
Samuel Peyton, attached to the nanomanufacturing
research division of MarsCo. Dr. Peyton had uncov-
ered project Echo while searching for information
on microscopic construction, and the pair of them
had been piecing together the project for months,
growing more and more obsessed with the bizarre and
unbelievable results they’d been reading. They lacked
the facilities to truly test the information, so the re-
ports hung in that hazy space between “impossible”
and “maybe,” which made them all the more alluring
and fed their cult fascination on the subject. As a hy-
pothetical experiment, Jacobs took the gene sequence
for the owl vectors and rebuilt it to include the micro-
scopic construction of the Hydra structure within the
owls as they grew (something the original Echo project
had never attempted, as they were operating under
Earth laws forbidding such cloning experiments). He
used the same genetic “branding” processes employed
on all first generation Vectors: microscopic identifica-
tion numbers built of proteins which were only present
in the initial batch, to help keep track of who was
breeding with who while the population was still small
enough to be concerned with inbreeding. They were
completely benign, and his computer mockups showed
no reason why they should be anything other than that
with the Hydra configuration added to them. Most
lead techs in the various Vector population enhance-
ment phases had “signed” their work in such a fashion.
Jacobs implemented the new design in the growth
phase as his own signature, no doubt with a shared
chuckle to his peers and a joke about super-
powers, unaware that doing so was granting
a brand new form of knowledge to a terrify-
ing extra-dimensional creature. 179
 The nature of “genetics” and “biology” was
illuminated to Hydra that day, and its subsequent
living agent emerged violently from the cloning
chambers mere weeks later. The body of the owls
was a step in the right direction for the eventual
illumination of all living things, but it was inade-
quate as a unit of expansion, as it was incompat-
ible with other living creatures around it. When
Hydra was in machines, it could travel from ma-
chine to machine by controlling the energies inside
them, but when Hydra was in this new creature, it
could not expand into other, similar creatures. Only
TRANSCENDENCE
other owls were affected, which was a pathetically
narrow pool of opportunities for expansion. Even
spreading its glyph among the viscera of a new
body did not provide a usable transition. This new
living agent could move, could affect, could interact,
but could not propagate Hydra through other living
things. Ultimately, the owls were destroyed, and
while the illumination they provided had opened up
a new world of possibilities, that sector of zero cuil
went dark to Hydra. It would have to wait for more
illumination to find a way to create a creature that
could do what the owl couldn’t.
And so it sat, on Earth, existing in scattered
glyphs and chance encounters, until a fateful meet-
ing centuries later that changed the face of Sol.
Project Recursion
TTI has ever been rather tight-lipped about the
nature of their research and how Transcendent Tech-
nology was created to begin with, as well as any cor-
relation it may have with Earth or the Whispers. While
it vexes the public to a degree, protecting company
secrets is hardly a new practice and there is very little
recourse against it short of simply not buying a prod-
uct. Many don’t. Even in the modern era, the idea of
surgical augmentation with dubious parts is troubling.
Still, it clearly has a foothold in the public; the allure
of this sort of ‘magic’ can be too strong to ignore. The
ignorance of its origins is, perhaps, a blessing.
The nature of transcendent events often means
that the only way to study them is through trial and
error, and those errors can be catastrophic. This is true
of many sciences, and the public has come to accept
(or ignore) it. But the scale of transcendent fallout is
different than normal scientific mishaps. In most cases,
reaction is a factor of action, and you can generally
judge how big a problem you’re going to cause if you
mess up on something by knowing how much energy
was put into it to begin with. With transcendent tech-
nology, this relationship does not exist, and as such a
slight mistake may cause a door to turn into a cat, or
may cause the sun to stop burning. Either result
is possible with the same amount of initial
investment, on the same glyph, and makes
180 experimentation a very difficult thing to do
safely.
The Echo glyph, originally obtained by humanity
from the monolith on Europa and later retrieved during
the early days of TTI with the rest of Project Echo’s
secrets, was the ‘solution’ to this problem, though it
wasn’t a solution that was at all talked about publicly.
Over many years, Echo had been refined into the first
transcendent implant (ignoring the one that let Hydra
into the owls, granted) and its ability had been tuned
through a great deal of rather frightening testing.
Instead of opening doors to new abstractions, it now
opened doors to different points on its own timeline.
By activating their implant, the user could return to any
point in time where they had “set” using the implant’s
ability, like a machine resetting from a saved state.
They would keep their memories and could report on
future events when returning to the past. An enormous
ability, and one that served as the only way TTI could
“safely” test their new advancements.
Whenever a new bout of testing was ready
to begin, whenever a breakthrough was made, when-
ever any major risk was about to be taken, TTI would
assemble the Trust; a group of twelve brilliant indi-
viduals who were the sole possessors of this implant,
and gather them together to “save-state” the universe.
Then, the twelve would enter observation roles, noting
everything, witnessing every test, and measuring ev-
ery result, so that if something went wrong they could
return to the point they had locked and report their
findings, and where the mistake happened. It was dirty.
It was devoid of moral integrity. It was reckless. But it
worked, and it seemed like the only safe way to make
progress on an otherwise unapproachable area of
scientific endeavor.
With this safety net, the transcendent technol-
ogy division of TTI could take off their kid gloves and
begin pushing limits in meaningful ways. Moral bound-
aries were crossed, re-drawn, and crossed again. Peo-
ple were hurt, even killed, and in colossal numbers, and
said events subsequently forgotten. Enormous tragedies
occurred and were then erased, and in each instance,
the knowledge of the results was passed on by the
Trust, while the experience, the witnessing of just how
far people could go, was a burden only they had to
bear. To all others involved, their sins, their rebellions,
their decisions, all were undone in the blink of an eye
when the Trust determined that things had gone far
enough.
To date, in the span between the first recursion
and the last, TTI has destroyed the Vector population
of Sol no fewer than 15 times.
The Final Recursion
The era of TTI’s save-state based testing ended
abruptly 200 years ago, in tragedy. The public wasn’t
even aware the company was working on transcen-
dent material, much less this deeply, at this stage. But
TTI had been tweaking and experimenting through
project Recursion for centuries before the modern day
Transcendent implant hit the market, diligently caring
for their Trust, replacing them as they fatigued of the
work, training up new ones, and maintaining the group
of twelve.
Trust saves follow a certain, almost ceremonial
procedure, in which the twelve reaffirm their ded-
ication to their task and check up on one another,
making sure the strain of things they have witnessed
won’t compromise them in days to come. It’s actually
one of the few situations in which genuine therapy is
applied more often than medication on a corporate
level. Primarily because everything the Trust says is
of paramount value, and anything new that can be
coaxed out through long discussions is important to
record. Secondly, because as observers who are actu-
ally supposed to include their emotional range as part
of their observation tool-kit, it’s important to not dead-
en it with medication. There is a degree of personal
consideration as well. TTI was aware of what it was
asking of these people, and of the burden it placed on
them. The only way to keep it running was to continu-
ally reinforce the dogma of the value of the research,
and to make them as comfortable as possible despite
it. This is probably one of the reasons why superstition
and curious mental quirks are so prevalent on Europa:
the mentality of doing something because the universe
requires is has trickled down from the top.
When the oath concludes and the twelve
activate their implants together, one of two things
occurs by the reckoning of the witnesses: either noth-
ing seems to happen, which simply indicates that time
moves on, the experiments are carried out as normal,
and nothing dramatic or dangerous enough to warrant
activating the recall happened, or the twelve wa-
ver for a moment and their expressions change, their
clothing changes, they become injured or exhaust-
ed, and it is apparent to all present that the people
who now stand there have seen tragedy or horror for
untold weeks, and brought those memories back for
the betterment of everyone else. They are tended to,
interviewed, debriefed, and shuttled to high security,
low-stress positions in the company where they can be
observed during their emotional recoveries. There have
been occasions when all twelve do not make it back
alive. There have been occasions where all twelve do,
but some end their own lives shortly after. To engage
in this sort of experiment requires a troubling sort of
mentality.
The final recursion did not follow this pattern.
The twelve performed their ceremony, stood in their
spots, said the words they always say, and activated
their implants together. They vanished, and in their
place stood a single ruby entity, tall and thin, with
glass-like edges. It was perched in an almost fetal
position, suspended slightly above the ground with
its long tail coiled beneath it, and it was whisper-
ing. Held in its claws was a single member of the
Trust, naked and covered in scars made of cryptic
iconography and language, as though he’d been
flayed and reassembled like a jigsaw puzzle. He
was alive but unconscious, and he was alone.
Alarms sounded, armies of guards were
brought in, containment systems were erected, and
all the while the creature remained stationary,
allowing steel barriers to be built around it and
TRANSCENDENCE
bolted into place, and ultimately relocating to a
new lab assembled to house it. The single survivor
was carefully extracted from its grip, asleep and
trembling. His partners, 11 other people, were all
missing. At the time, TTI had no idea what they had
gained, or how much they had lost.
Taln Hiemdal
Taln Hiemdal was the sole member of the
Trust to return from the final recursion. Some two
months after being carefully pulled from the arms
of the ruby monster that seemed to carry him back
through time alone, he awoke without any recollec-
tion of the future he had witnessed. His experience,
whatever it was, had left lasting scars that went
beyond the ones on his body.
Once a brilliant man and a surgical prodigy,
Hiemdal became cryptic and obsessive. His profi-
ciency with Transcendent phenomena was even greater
than before, and he spent his days following the final
recursion isolating himself with the captive (eventually
dubbed ‘Whisper’ by the public when further examples
of it began appearing) for extended periods and mak-
ing leaps and bounds with research that had long ago
been tossed on the back burner. It was his post-recall
revelations that paved the way for the modern tran-
scendent implant and provided TTI with almost all of
its current Whisper knowledge, and he was kept alive
long past his normal lifespan to continue his work, but
his role in the modern era was far deeper than that.
Taln’s own role in the theoretical contact with
Hydra that spawned the whisper invasion of Luna
was never made completely clear to him, but as the
years went by and Earth began turning red, his need
to somehow correct the situation transformed into an
obsession, almost worship, of the powers involved. The
following journal entry was left haphazardly on his
desktop the day he vanished from his headquarters
in TTI R&D on Europa, and has never been publicized.
Even within the current company the number of people
with that last, critical key is scarcely a handful.
181
 “I have searched for decades now, in my conscious mind and in my
dreams, in the weight on my shoulders, and I feel now that I can put to word,
with personal certainty, what must have occurred in that time beyond time
when I and the Trust traveled into a future no one now can see. I believe that
we, together, made contact with transcendent divinity. The entity called by
Vectors: Hydra, which I feel is wrongly labeled. I feel we must have spoken to
it, in some way, some meaningful way. This I cannot fully understand, nor do I
wish to, for actual communication defined as a meaningful exchange of ideas
with Transcendent divinity is an impossibility as I understand it. But to offer it
something, this I think can be done. We classify this creature as a Meta-cuil
manifestation, so I feel we must have offered it illumination, which is the one
commodity I think we actually possess. It must have been some significant
thing, though. Some amazing quantity of expansion. It is an astronomically pa-
tient creature, and I do not think it would have noticed one new point of light
more than another unless it shined with particular brilliance. I cannot put into
scale what it would take to qualify, but upon pondering now what I would
offer, in a hypothetical scenario, I would have to answer: “life.” All life.
For as a Fleshweaver, I hold the knowledge of how all life is made.
How to manipulate its construction at the basest level. How to make it univer-
sally compatible. The twelve of us were all specialists in this field. I can say
with relative safety that, between us all, any problem of genetics, anatomy,
biology or biochemistry, could be solved. Illumination of this nature would
grant Hydra billions of new nodes. And as I think this, I can see in my mind: us,
standing, contemplating the wisdom of this exchange. Understanding that it
would put the entire known universe in peril, and proceeding anyway as we
had so often before. I can see me leading the way. I can see the hubris of our
confidence in the Echo implant. I can see it all go wrong. Not as memory, for
those have never returned to me, but as the most likely series of events, given
the current condition of Sol.
The great error, as I now know through my research these last years,
was in our understanding of Echo. We believed it to reverse time, returning
us to an earlier point in our existence. But Echo is not a time-machine, it is a
portal. We were not traveling backward, we were traveling sideways, lateral-
ly, into a parallel zero cuil existence identical in all ways save for its degree
of progression. If I grant the existence of one such parallel domain, then I
grant the existence of infinite ones, and as such every time we used the Echo
recall, we stepped again, into a new existence so perfectly akin to our own as
to be indistinguishable save for how much relative time had past since acti-
vating our implants. I do not know if TTI was aware of this when the Trust was
formed. I do not know if they fathomed its significance. For it means every-
thing, and it has damned us.
What we call Hydra, as an MCM, exists in all Cuils at all times, but
is always the same creature. What it knows in one Cuil, it knows in all Cuils.
When we shared our knowledge with the Hydra, knowing we would doom our
“future,” we simultaneously doomed our past, and every past, for every infinite
domain in zero cuil. The recall was meaningless, for even if it returned me to
a point before our communication with Hydra in that particular recursion, in
another, it had already happened, and the beast knew everywhere. What
we see now, the Whispers, must be what it created with the knowledge my
eleven lost comrades and I surrendered to it. A being built of blood, capable
of existing in near any environment, propagating through any living creature,
and illuminating the universe to Hydra as it travels. Such is the hell we have
brought upon ourselves.”

Taln Hiemdal, notebooks

The Nephilim Codex
Taln’s existence after his disappearance was
a slowly growing devotion to a new concept that had
taken root in his mind over the last few years of his
employment: Transcendent divinity. As he defined and
worked within the abstracted sciences of Cuil drift,
he searched historical archives, ancient earth tomes
that had made the trip to Mars, and anything else
that would expand his perception beyond what he had
gained in TTI’s labs. He began to see patterns, and as-
sign larger roles to the entities that inhabited various
planes of existence beyond just numbers and acronyms.
He chose to see them as Gods, and as such assigned
himself a role in relation to those Gods. Whether this
slow change was caused by his own guilt, or if it was
implanted by Hydra before his recursion, or if it was
always there below the surface, will never be known.
But it spawned the creation of the Nephilim codex: a
twisted text containing his theories, ideas, the gospel
of transcendent divinity, and the Nephilim themselves:
12 enormously powerful transcendent bioconstructs
built in secret who, together, were worthy in his eyes
of Godhood. His final public act before his own sui-
cide was to publish the codex to Sol’s public network,
roughly 80 years after the fall of Luna. Privately he
kept many other notebooks, some right up to the end,
that detailed even more sensitive information. TTI
counts their blessings that those never found their way
onto the networks.
The codex itself is hundreds of pages long, and
contains whole chapters that are indecipherable scrib-
blings (though it hasn’t stopped people from trying)
and others with the clarity of a textbook. Some read
like the ravings of a madman, and others show apti-
tude and knowledge exceeding that of modern day TTI
scholia on the same subjects. It has made the task of
knowing what to pay attention to and what to leave
alone rather difficult, and while TTI holds the majority
of the Nephilim codex as critical reading for those in
the highest levels of transcendent research, the book
has also spawned numerous “Universities,” or modern
day cults, who seek to achieve what it describes with
fanatical and dangerous dedication.
The codex makes many claims and observations,
but the two that are most critical are its assertions
about the Other, and its descriptions of the Nephilim.
Amazingly (and much to TTI’s relief) it makes no men-
tion of the Trust, Hush, or Hiemdal’s own belief in his
role in the Whisper invasion. Only his final message
before his death writes those thoughts so clearly. Per-
haps he was too frightened, or too proud, to admit his
place in it earlier. Perhaps it was shame. Regardless,
TTI has only truly understood its own responsibility for
the creation of Whispers for just over a century.
The Taln at the end of his life was a far cry
from the one he was at the beginning of his career in
TTI, and his descent is one of the (admittedly numerous)
reasons rumors associate transcendent research with
madness. But in Taln’s own words, it was not a fear
or shirking away from the grandeur of the trans-cuil
universe that drove him to his actions, but an em-
bracing of it. He began to recognize the actions of
beings greater than himself as necessary compul-
sions, and by association was compelled to do what
he felt the universe wanted. Separating the need
to create a divine transcendent entity from the
need for Hiemdal himself to atone for the guilt
he felt over his own actions is one of the things
that makes the codex so difficult to decipher and
so varied in its tone. That anomaly is lost on the
public, who has no idea why this particular person
would feel like he did, but to TTI’s head operative
TRANSCENDENCE
and those who were, at one point, directly related
to the trust, this is the most painful task. Reading his
tome is like watching someone trying to talk himself
back from a ledge as he continues to walk toward
it, because he feels no other solution can be found.
The Other
Hydra’s experiences with humanity predate
Project Echo considerably, but it has always been
limited in its ability to “see” our reality by the media
in which it is inscribed. It wasn’t until networked
electronic communication and nanoprinting that it
could truly gain a foothold in what we call 0 Cuil.
Before then, it arrived in isolated areas by chance
and happenstance. Rituals, coincidental combina-
tions of critical minerals, and proper intonations of
thought and deed. As is usually the case with such
things, its forms and effects were frightening and
difficult to comprehend, and historical documentation
pertaining to it is colored with the vocabulary of the
time. Descriptions of red demons with cloven hooves,
or snakes credited with evil intent, all fit the various
abstractions of what the Nephilim codex asserted
were the agents of Hydra. The Hydra glyph itself
vaguely resembles a serpent’s coils, and Whisper (while
a later creation) share many visual qualities with what
is traditionally known as a demon or devil, which Taln
took to be an indication of a preferred form or visual
motif for Hydra’s manifestations in zero Cuil. Hiemdal
preferred the name Apophis himself, insisting it was a
more accurate descriptor of the historical nature of
the Hydra in regards to humanity, and wrote: “I have
seen it spoken of in many tongues, with varying de-
grees of accuracy. Hydra. Beelzebub. Apep. The habit,
as I see so often with humanity and ourselves, is to
assign our own petty strife and motivations to these
things which are so clearly not Us.”
While humanity was responsible for the cre-
ation of its own pantheons, their chance interactions
with transcendent entities and desperation to assign
motive to the behavior of things whose motives cannot
be understood likely colored their impressions dramati-
cally. To Hiemdal, a long and sorted history with Hydra
was not nearly so important as the presence of
duality inherent to so many of those records.
While the human interpretation of an MCM
fractal might be tainted from a psycho-
183
 “The anatomy of this second manifestation is different, continuously, repeatedly throughout its appearanc-
es. I temper myself so as not to assign it ‘reasons’ for looking like it does, for it could have any number of reasons
I could never understand. But if I grant that this creature is transcendent divinity, as I grant to Apophis, then its
appearance is a factor of our own reality mixed with what it knows of our cuil. Its differences may reflect a
different set of experiences or a different origin within zero cuil. So I ask: ‘how did it arrive? How did it meet
humanity?’ For these creatures need to come from somewhere. MCMs exist, we believe, at all times and in all
versions of themselves throughout all realities, but they must still be brought to those locations. Escorted. To this
one, I look to Europa, to the monolith, to the beginning. For what is it that humanity found first? A gateway,
which shares properties of the thing we call Whisperwerk, but not the appearance of it. An Other.
I have settled on Ra for my name of the Other, for sake of simplicity, though I like it even less than most
of those I have seen assigned to Apophis. Again, the presumed adversarial relationship is inherent in the titles,
but I feel it fits more than others I have seen throughout human documentation. Most assign it a role of savior, or
creator, or speak of it in a means of worship. I have already elected to dismiss social assignment placed on tran-
scendent divinity. Their motives are not so trivial as ours. But if I am to use appearance as evidence (and indeed,
I seem to be) then I must note repeated, collaborated examples of the pair in conflict with one another. I know
not if this conflict is fueled by a genuine hatred (if such beings can feel hatred in any terrestrial definition) or if
it is territorial, or if it simply a reaction to each other’s presence, like chemicals mixing. It is, however, consistently
violent.
Ra is absent in our time, and I cannot guess at the reason for that. Its only active presence that I can de-
tect is through the bioprobe mutants on Europa, which guard its now-closed portal, and through the sustenance
of the Foea that feed on its energy. I feel that, should Ra and Apophis come in direct contact, our solar system
would not survive the event. Interesting that so many human documents predict a similar outcome while having
much less evidence to support it.”
orca scouts to meet the legendary fate that eventually befell them. They thought they were going to find the

The identification of a second MCM begged the question of scale, in terms of where these creatures “rated”
against each other and the rest of the universe. The codex addressed this as well, and introduced a new concept:
a creature beyond even what he called “Transcendent divinity,” known simply as Eo. Though a more powerful and
profound discovery than even the MCM’s, Hiemdal was quick to dismiss Eo’s importance in the codex itself.

“The concept of omnipotence becomes a clouded one when one considers the true gravity of unlimited
power and ability. An omnipotent being can crush a planet or subjugate a race, certainly, but these are relat-
able things. Petty things. Nothing is truly changed here, not in the galactic sense. Matter is converted, as happens
constantly. These are the sorts of things you might expect a very powerful person to do. An omnipotent being, a
creature whose power truly allows it ANY possibility, can do these things while simultaneously not doing these
things. It can exist while not existing, or be good while being evil, or exist in a state beyond description or con-
ception, while deciding that you can conceive of it, while simultaneously not allowing you to imagine it. It can be
blue while being colorless, and if none of that made sense, it could make sense of it, or simply change logic until
it does. This is power, enormous power, but it is also useless from the standpoint of mortal beings.
Mortal interpretations of physical exertion and force are meaningless when applied to a creature that
isn’t bound by physical laws. Even more so when the creature can exist inside of a logical paradox, as a truly
omnipotent being can. There’s no way to interact with such a creature on its level, or relate to it, or even use it,
when it can simply decide not to be used. Or decide not to be usable. Or decide not to be. Or not decide, while
still being decisive.
There is a creature that possesses this sort of power. It exists beyond the fractals of reality known as
Cuil. While it could be considered a “transcendent entity” in that it doesn’t originate from 0 cuil reality, the term
is woefully inadequate, as it doesn’t originate from reality at all. It may not even originate, period. It simply ‘is,’
and the only way it can be witnessed is through the effects it has on the divine creatures that are just barely
close enough to it in abstraction to gain fuel and nourishment from it, while interacting with the beings below by
means of even smaller agents. Each step lower on this pantheon becomes more relateable and understandable
by the entities below it, and “omnipotence” slowly transforms into “power,” which zero cuil entities comprehend
far more readily.
I have dubbed this creature Eo, and I will not dwell on its existence further, as it is a useless thing. Its
only function is as a light source by which to measure the shadows cast by those creatures that feed off it, for
its own power is so incalculably vast that it should be considered imperceptibly small. You would gain the same
amount of use from it in either situation. It is a testament to the divinity of beings like Ra and Apophis that we
can see and understand their power in our own terms while they can, in turn, perceive of Eo in such a way as to
gain usable resource from it. At our level, such a thing is impossible.”
 logical standpoint, they were very similar from
a physical standpoint, and there was a clear
division between the observations he could identify
as Hydra, and those he could not. By all rights, there
appeared to be two different forces at work.
The Foea
The true nature of the Foea is known to TTI, as
they set upon the project that created them, but
Hiemdal speaks of them briefly in the codex as an
extension of his earlier ideas about using transition-
TRANSCENDENCE
al creatures to measure the existence of creatures
that are inherently immeasurable by our standards.
He doesn’t elaborate fully on their background,
however, probably because he assumed anyone
reading the codex would know it. Presently though,
TTI maintains the secrets of their unique purpose.
The Foea are not from Europa. They are a
race that originated from the other side of the Ra
portal, now known as the monolith deep in Europa’s
ocean, and subsided on the energies created by Ra
itself. The extinction of the Foea was due to a sud-
den drop in that power, probably because what-
ever was generating it moved on from its position,
leaving the creatures on the other side without a
foodsource.
The Foea can refine whatever transcendent
energy is produced by Ra into something usable, just
as Ra does with Eo’s energy. They seem unable to
do it without a median, however. Jupiter, which is
associated with the Ra entity and radiates its energies
along with other radiation, is capable of “feeding”
those Foea that come to the surface. But not all Foea
can, and there has been no real indication that Ra is
sending energy through the portal to feed them in the
present era. The portal seems to be closed in general.
Which leaves one final Ra-touched entity local enough
to be providing the Foea with nourishment: the Orca
bioprobes.
The orca probes are part Foea themselves,
built with Foea DNA to give them the resilience and
abilities they’d need to explore Europa for their mis-
sion. When they traveled into the portal and encoun-
tered something, perhaps Ra, perhaps some intermedi-
ary entity, they likewise became agents of the Other,
and radiate its energy to a degree capable of feeding
the Foea now living. When the species was resurrected
and returned to Europa, TTI tracked their migratory
habits and discovered the connection. This provided
an enormous potential research tool, as it meant they
had a genetic record of a creature already capable
of metabolizing energy from a transcendent source
(as opposed to the orcas, which were transformed on
186
contact). Use of this data has lead to the “engines”
that run the bioships and keep their Vitae energized,
which are actually metabolizing Ra’s energy radiat-
ing from Jupiter, and, through the use of transcendent
technology, can grab it from distant sources as well. In
a troubling twist, this also allows the bioships to ac-
tively track Ra’s current position in zero cuil reality, and
conceivably even travel there. TTI has elected not to
pursue this path. It’s entirely possible that the only rea-
son the second MCM hasn’t returned to Sol is because
it’s presently unaware there’s anything new here to see.
The Foea have proven to be a good tool for
measuring the activity and relative positions of the
Orca bioprobes on Europa, despite the inherent dan-
gers of the creatures themselves. They also provide
measurable insight into how Ra works, thanks to the
robust fossil record available. At present, they’re the
only “natural” race TTI knows of that fuels itself with
energy from another dimension, and the fact that they
get it now from the orcas suggests that somewhere on
the other side of the portal there was likely another
creature, perhaps even an unknown species of Foea,
that refined energy directly from Ra and distributed it.
That creature is of particular interest to TTI, but right
now the closest analog is the orca bioprobes that have
already been transformed.
Hiemdal had other conjecture about the Foea
though, which has been difficult to prove but is par-
amount importance. The orca probes continue to be
a problem for TTI, both because of their disrupting
presence in the depth of Europa and because of their
far more dramatic presence in some of the extra-cuil
realms TTI draws energy and information from. But
Taln’s notebook writings suggest an even more worrying
connection, that the orcas might have direction con-
trol not only of the Foea, but of all other things built
off a Foea template. TTI uses Foea DNA in a massive
number of its space and extreme environment rated
bio-equipment, and has recently begun regretting the
decision. Advancements in biotechnology has allowed
TTI to begin new families of organic technology not
using Foea architecture, but that has lead to anoth-
er large problem: the original Foea based equipment
behaves strangely around it. In official press releases,
TTI explains this a territorial response and is looking
into the matter, but the reaction isn’t violent so much
as ravenous. The Foea based probes appear to want
to physically consume or absorb the new technology,
behavior disturbingly similar to that of the MCM they
are distantly related to. TTI has been slow to push this
new technology, for fear it may attract the attention
of a distant, sleeping enemy.
 “The Foea are not simply fed, I feel, by the radiance of Ra emanating from our orcaprobes. I believe they are also in-
fluenced, if not outright controlled, by them. Consider the onset of ego as it departs from divinity. The further we travel
from Eo, the more recognizable motivations become. Eo’s motivations are incomprehensible. The MCM’s motivations, while
very abstract in methodology, are at least sane. We know that they seek all things. Why remains a mystery, and perhaps
the why is beyond our comprehension, but the action, at least, can be followed. The creature that feeds off the energy
of an MCM is another step below that, and has motivations and machinations that are even more relateable, and so on
down the line.
“We don’t know what creature was distilling energy across the portal to the Foea here before it stopped and the race
died, but it would be something closer to them, to us. Perhaps the Foea Alpha, a sort of overmind. We know the races
within the Foea family can communicate and coordinate with each other, and possess a hierarchy of intelligence with
some usurping control of the others. It stands that a master exists, or existed, somewhere, with direct control of the only
resource that matters to them. They are currently cut off from that master, but the Orcas have taken its place. Beings
that are themselves part alien, and possess the same forms of psychic communication. To me, this is reason enough to sus-
pect the Orcas have much more direct control over the Foea than we have credited them for. It tickles my sense of mirth
to know that, in creating a monitoring system for our own demons, we have in fact given them an army. Even more laugh-
able is the fact that TTI’s bioships use the same templates in their brains for psychic communication, and are conceivably
susceptible to the same influence. How appropriately ironic will that day be, when TTI, so distracted with concern about
avoiding Apophis’s expansion and the ever-visible encroachment of the Whispers, that they overlook the spiteful beings
they trapped under their own homes, who may order their own ships to destroy them from on high. If this is possible, the
grave has already been dug so deep that its ledge is invisible in the distance, and there is little to be done to avoid the
outcome.”
-Taln Hiemdal, notebooks
 “Suppose I ask you to imagine a color not made of what we accept as prima-
ries. This is an easy thing to imagine, yes? By speaking it, I have already imagined it;
it sits in my head as a tangible concept, and I can paint my imaginary house with this
imaginary color. But if I ask you to describe the color to me, how do you? I cannot,
myself. This color which does not consist of any color my senses perceive cannot be
described except to say that it is Not-blue. Not-green. But I know these other pallets
exist, beyond my perceptions, and so the concept is not a difficult one, even if I cannot
depict its actual physical presence in the world.
“This to me speaks of our role in the universe, as creators. In my head, I can
imagine wonders and horrors that can still the blood with a look, or shake the cosmos
with their breath. But I cannot describe these things within the confines of my own per-
ceptions, as they are simply too limited, too primitive, to fully encompass the concept I
see so clearly. They would be lacking, and the description would not do it justice.
“Yet I know such things must be possible, just as the color is possible, because if
they were not my mind would not be allowed to conceive of them. Indeed, all things in
conception are possible. To say they are not is to allow yourself to be held hostage by
perception, be it your own pathetic senses or the trivial, juvenile observations of what
we call ‘modern science.’ Perception describes reality, true, but it is not reality. It is the
tiniest fraction of a larger existence available to us to view through the mechanisms
we have created. And to others, to beings with grander perception than our own, re-
ality is so much a different thing than we view it to be. Godhood, in actuality, is to pos-
sess greater scope of perception and interaction than lesser creatures can perceive. In
that span between what we can observe, and what Is, for every creature, lies divinity.
“Transcendent technology is this. It is described in many ways, in many books,
by many people, in an attempt to put words to the not-green, the not-blue. Useless, in
the end. Inadequate. Trivialized into magic tricks and fire conjuring, in order to make
it palatable to the masses, who feel the need to “understand” by constraining enormity
into easily digested boxes within their own sensory perception, even if such descriptions
are lies. I pity them, in a way, for they are being cheated. We are not fools, us thinking
creatures. We are limited, yes. We are trapped within the prison of our own senses,
but we have minds capable of understanding our role, our part, in this cosmic equation,
if we allow ourselves to do so. We can accept that our reality is but a facet of the
universe. It is not even particularly hard for us to do. That is the beauty of intelligent
thought. We can see the scope of the universe in its entirety within our minds, even if
such things do not fit within the tiny box that is what our senses tell us is real. Biology
grants us this boon, and I feel this is not a coincidence. It is a sign of what method to
use in order to approach that span between reality and divinity.
“Through biotechnology, I can craft creatures whose senses exceed my own in
ways I understand. Through transcendent technology, I can craft creatures with sens-
es that exceed my own in ways I do not understand. I do not believe it is the role of
Vector to understand these things. In fact, to attempt it would result in madness, or the
transformation of a person into something no longer Vector as we know it. Ergo, the
final step is not to make sense of that which my senses were never meant to compre-
hend. It is instead to craft a mind which can understand what my mind cannot, through
senses I lack, and can manipulate these new facets of reality as dexterously as I manip-
ulate my own senses, through touch and texture, scent and sound, in ways my own senses
can witness. To create a native of a reality broader than ours in ways we can imagine,
but could never hope to describe. It would stand many rungs above us in the ladder of
existence, capable of being witnessed and partially understood on our side, but also
interacting in meaningful ways with things beyond our ken on the other. Such a being I
would call God.
“I have, within the technology available in my time, the means to craft divinity.
This must be done, I feel. To do less would be both negligent and, perhaps, blasphe-
mous. My creations will reach through space between space, seeking, both for each
other and for further illumination, trapped in the impossibly small box of mortality I
have been forced to craft them in for my own limited tools. But they have within them
the capacity to form a union of existence, and that union will reach to Eo and achieve
what mortals cannot. At that stage, the twelve will become one, and my children will
achieve divinity. I can only pray that, with this action, I have atoned.”
The Nephilim
The final, and perhaps most unbelievable, claim
of the Nephilim codex dominates its later pages, and
elaborates in detail the creation of twelve biocon-
structs, each one unique, containing transcendent tech-
nology that puts the most advanced implants in TTI’s
archives to shame. As Taln detailed the creatures, he
wrote about the necessity of their creation with ever
increasing fervor, which showed perhaps most clearly
how adrift his motives had become.
The Nephilim entities themselves vary in size
between near-planetary to roughly twice the size of a
typical Vector (though the codex claims each hatched
from a chrysalis of sorts no larger than a person, hence
how they were created undetected), and each of the
twelve has unique properties and abilities. Their power,
both in terms of transcendent ability and sheer physi-
cal mass, is astronomical, but more profound than their
individual abilities are their combined existence. Taln’s
great victory was the assertion that, together, the Ne-
philim formed a gestalt consciousness that entered the
realm of Godhood; that they were a Meta-cuil Mani-
festation fractured into many juvenile pieces, because
it was not in his ability to craft it fully formed.
The massive claims asserted by this stage of
the codex combined with the increase of deteriorating
rambling chapters, parallels with Hiemdal’s own trau-
matic existence, and overall lack of evidence of the
creation of these creatures, have led to the general
public consensus that the Nephilim are a figment of
Hiemdal’s madness and were never actually created.
Nevertheless, they are, in fact, quite real. Upon their
births, each translocated to the outer Oort cloud,
where they sit sentry around the Sol system, and wait.
The megacorps are all aware of them at some level,
as the public publishing of the codex gave them cause
to turn their considerably advanced monitoring equip-
ment out towards space, and to put pressure on TTI to
provide an explanation. It has been generally accepted
that Hiemdal acted on his own when he created the
Nephilim, which has kept TTI from facing considerable
corp-based retaliation, but the rest of their responsi-
bility for the current state of Sol has been kept care-
fully under wraps.
And while the presence of these creatures in
the frozen void is terrifying in its own right, they are
a very distant, very idle threat, and have fallen more
to legend than to forethought over the past century.
Even the best non-Lumen stardrives would take years to
reach the distances the codex claims they lurk at, and
the sheer area involved makes the chance of catching
up to one that doesn’t wish to be found nearly impos-
sible. They appear able to decide when they do and
don’t wish to be observed. The actual sensory acuity of
the creatures is unknown, and while the codex seems
to suggest that they can “see” all of Sol at once, the
actual logistics of that claim make it difficult to be-
lieve even granting the other parts. The plan thus far
has been to wait, to improve space-based technology,
and when the time is right, to hunt them down and
eliminate them. Without posing a clear and present
danger, they have largely disappeared from corp
concerns next to more immediate threats. All corps
but TTI, who, at it’s highest level, finds some small
degree of hope in them.
The final coherent line of the Nephilim
codex speaks of atonement, rather than duty or
achievement. The codex alone provides no motive
for the creation of the Nephilim other than divine
inspiration, but to those few who know Taln’s full
story and the origin of the Whispers, his final words
hold unique promise. If it is true that Hydra’s final
TRANSCENDENCE
ingredient for the eventual conversion of all life has
already been delivered and cannot be undone, then
the only hope to fight it would be a being of its
own level. The motives of Ra are unknown and unre-
liable, but the Nephilim were created by a Vector,
and are still in a stage where they can be physically
interacted with. Maybe even taught, or trained. Taln
Hiemdal created an infant god, but perhaps, on
some level below the madness, he built it to protect
his people. Only time will tell.
HYDRA (Apophis)
IN THE UNIVERSE:
As a narrative tool, Hydra is a very large pill
to swallow. It represents an inexorable force being
slowly exerted over the setting, creeping its way across
the galaxy every time some hapless person etches its
likeness on a wall or recollects it in their dreams, or a
Whisper leaps out of their body and violently repro-
duces. To the players, Hydra itself is actually a usable
force. It’s a sort of double-edged sword, which can be
used in plots involving high degrees of transcendent
activity as a kind of “guide.” By evoking the Hydra,
players can gain access to pathways between Cuils, or
be able to make sense of the senseless, or even, po-
tentially, safely transverse to other locations. Think of it
as having a Sherpa around who knows the ins and outs
of every dimension, and is genuinely helpful about it,
up to a point. The same role it played ages ago when
humans first discovered Echo.
The “point” becomes when Hydra finds the
work redundant, or when it has been illuminated to
something that will allow it to propagate itself with-
out assistance. Its goal is always to expand, and it will
allow agents from our reality to guide it to new places
and into new objects, but if players are attempting
to use it to hop back and forth between locations
repeatedly, or as a sort of weapon or reliable tool,
Hydra may consider them to have outlasted their use.
This typically results in the destruction of the agent or
their conversion into a Whisper host. In humanity’s case,
it resulted in the destruction of their entire spe-
cies. They knew from experiments that Hydra
would want to “test” its illumination of atomic
energy. They assumed, as a program, it could
189
 be prevented by simply withholding the order to
fire. They failed to realize that, once integrat-
ed, it was capable of its own experiments. a way to do this “safely,” though. Try not to make an
Hydra’s concepts of loss and gain exist on an atomic
and galactic level. Illumination is illumination; that
a species has been removed simply means there
are now fewer details to collect. Subsequently,
the Whisper habit of transforming into a hard-
ened structure that slowly transforms mass into a
homogeneous ruby ocean reflects Hydra’s intentions.
It craves a unity of self across all realities, and it
has manufactured a creature to provide that for it.
TRANSCENDENCE
This is a dangerous entity to play with, and Guides
should caution their players before they seek its
attention. It does not threaten, deal, bribe, or issue
warnings. It simply reacts, for better or for worse.
The most common direct touch of Hydra exists
when characters with Transcendent abilities at-
tempt to sense heightened Cuil in an area, or de-
tect other people with Transcendent abilities. To the
characters, this feels like “sensing,” but Vectors have
no such sensory organs in their bodies. They are in
fact innately reaching out to Hydra, which is then
reaching through multiple cuils to translate the feel-
ing of one form of Transcendence to another, and
ultimately to a feeling the character can interpret.
This is the most basic and benign of interactions
with the MCM and most characters will do it with-
out even knowing they’re doing it, but that doesn’t
mean it can’t be played with as a story element.
This sort of contact extends to doing just about
anything with an implant beyond its base function.
Essentially: anything above its cuil 1 ability. In effect,
the implant is opening a door into another cuil and
allowing the character to make one specific request,
which is the base power of the implant. When the
character asks for something different, something more
powerful, the implant reaches out into further ab-
stractions. But just reaching out doesn’t mean you find
something. Something else is leading the character to
their target based on what they’re trying to achieve.
That something is Hydra. This means that every tran-
scendent character channeling powers above first cuil
has inadvertently associated with Hydra on a subcon-
scious level. TTI suspects this, but it isn’t a universally
accepted theory among their ranks. It is difficult, even
for TTI scientists, to accept that after all this time and
all this work, they still haven’t achieved much more
than humanity did back when they sent the first signals
through the breach and Hydra answered. They’re just
speaking a little clearer now, and using biology rather
than technology to talk.
In most cases, players will not communicate
with Hydra directly in a conversational manner, but
rather interact with its agents. Whispers are its direct
link, but aren’t in the habit of meaningful exchange.
However, Hydra exists in many things at many
times, and Guides can use it to mutate ani-
mals, take over ships, or otherwise manifest
190 in chaotic forms that have less direct “orders”
than the Whispers themselves and can provide a more
approachable path to communication. There is never
association with Hydra a trivial thing: it holds more
power as a narrative force when players are worried
about attempting it. However, it is possible to use the
above listed player abilities without ever knowing that
Hydra is an integral part of the system, or attracting
its attention in any particular way. It doesn’t “annoy”
the MCM. Its ability to facilitate this sort of inter
dimensional communication is a part of its nature and
something it does innately. The fun narrative line comes
from deciding what is actually going to get its atten-
tion and what isn’t. You should vary that line based on
the tone of your campaign. By nature, it’s a little unpre-
dictable.
THE OTHER (Ra)
IN THE UNIVERSE
The monolith on Europa is, in fact, a gateway
to another part of the universe where Ra, as Hiemdal
refers to the Other, is currently active. The Orcas on
Europa, upon entering the monolith, were transformed
in similar ways that the owls were on Mars, though the
result was a uniquely different creature. Ra has had
other parts of the universe illuminated to it, and pos-
sesses other methods and motivations for its actions. As
a result, you’ll see different behavior from the Orcas
than you’ll see from, say, the owl in the Echoes con-
tract. They’re generally smarter, more calculating, and
less direct despite their size and power. Their primary
task is to protect the monolith, which is now closed.
The monolith is an aspect of Ra just as the Spire is an
aspect of Hydra. The orca’s main means of enforcing
their agenda on Europa is by manipulating the Foea,
which they are inherently related to by virtue of their
hybridization and their connection to Ra.
Jupiter is the symbol of the Other, and plays a
role in its existence, but that role is unknown and the
evidence to find it does not exist on this side of the
echo portal. Ra is essentially sleeping, as far as Sol is
concerned, but many radiant feelings and effects from
its existence can be felt regardless. Most are confused
for Hydra, but the majority of the transcendent effects,
superstitions, Jupiter-fearing, affinity for water, and
other quirks on Europa are a result of Ra’s passive in-
fluence. Ganymede experiences fewer of these on the
whole, due in part to the lack of the Monolith, and in
part to the presence of the Nephilim mana platform.
Europa was not chosen as TTI headquarters
by random chance; they had possession of the Echo
files when they first spooled the idea of underwater
research to their financial backers. A sure investment,
they claimed, and their own tentative experiments
with the echo glyph made them look like a fairly safe
bet. The truth was, TTI knew where to look, but not
what they’d find, and were in no way expecting the
source of the Echo code, and they were quite correct.
But the Other, the MCM Hiemdal calls Ra, is active on
the other side of its breach. When the orcas entered
the structure, they changed as the owls had, and TTI
has been paying for the mistake ever since.
It was not a total loss, however. At the highest
plateaus of TTI authority, the nature of the orca muta-
tion is known, and has been tied back to the owls, to
Hydra, to echo, and to the first attempts of humanity
to control this bizarre power. This, more than any other
reason, is why the megacorp has not taken the mono-
lith by force from its massive defenders. While it is true
the transformed orcas pose a threat far and away
greater to submersibles than most people give them
credit for, if TTI really wanted to, their fleet could boil
the ocean clear off the moon in a month to get to
what they were after. But it isn’t just a bunch of mutant
whales down there, it’s a transit conduit leading to
what could be what humanity knew as God, and they
frankly don’t want to piss it off.
THE NEPHILIM
IN THE UNIVERSE
The Nephilim play a prominent role in many
“behind the scenes” actions in the HSD universe, but
likely won’t interact with players at all unless you
specifically craft your adventure around encountering
them. The vast majority of the Nephilim codex is ac-
tually true, and the twelve creatures that now exist in
the Oort cloud are indeed able, through transcendent
abilities, to monitor the entirety of Sol and a signif-
icant distance beyond. TTI’s assumption about Taln’s
motives has a degree of accuracy to it as well, but the
Nephilim were not crafted to protect Sol from Hydra
or the Other. They were crafted to protect the rest of
the universe from Sol.
Taln considered the death of the Sol system
to be the proper payment for the mistakes they made
during Project Recursion, but properly interpreted
Hydra as a galactic threat once enough had been
illuminated to it. The Nephilim, when separate, are
more than equal to the task of keeping Vector fleets
in and alien fleets out. Combined, it was his hope that
they would be enough to prevent Hydra from leaving
as well. That would leave the only exit point from Sol
deep underwater, through the echo portal on Europa.
That would put Hydra in Ra’s realm of space, and force
a conflict he felt was far more likely to subdue the
MCM than anything the Vector military could attempt.
It paints a bleak picture for the chances of mortal
survival on the far spiral arm, but Taln was thinking in
astronomical units of time. Many new variables may
appear before this event takes place. It should be
thought of as a sort of “apocalyptic fallback plan” if all
other attempts to preserve life against Hydra fail.
While the Nephilim probably won’t be inter-
acting with the party directly, there are lots of
fun ways to use them indirectly. Think of them as
lesser gods: curious, still learning, relatable but still
alien. Unlike the MCM’s, which learn by chance until
they gain enough knowledge to actively expand as
Hydra is now doing, these creatures are actively
seeking information on their own, generally by
way of long-range telepathy and manifesta-
tion. They can summon transcendent phenomenon
into an area, possess people, transform reality in
bizarre ways, and otherwise cause fun and frighten-
ing effects that go beyond the realm of a general
TRANSCENDENCE
transcendent manifestation but don’t need to involve
the giant elements like Hydra. Not every transcen-
dent event is the fault of a Nephilim’s meddling, but
they are more actively involved with the day-to-day
weirdness of the Sol environment than Hydra is.
Corps are not inherently aware of this, as there isn’t
a way to monitor it, so it can make for a fun mystery
for players to solve involving details not even top
brass of the megacorps are actually aware of. Con-
temporary parallels might be the Old Ones of the
famed Cthulhu mythos, which possess a tremendous
amount of power, but are not omnipotent, and seem
to still possess a degree of material need or mortal
desire.
The Nephilim mana platform
Vectors have a habit of reusing human
words in various (and sometimes inappropriate)
contexts because it lends a degree of perceived
majesty to whatever it is they’re building at the time.
In the case of the mining platform around Jupiter,
however, the name holds a deeper meaning. This was
the secret location Taln Hiemdal used when construct-
ing the Nephilim, and where the creatures were born.
The complex itself is enormous, and deep within its
core lies the lab that birthed the creatures. It’s empty
now (he destroyed his equipment before he died,) but
the giant, vacant chamber radiates a certain ener-
gy unique to the creatures that were created there.
It helps repel Ra’s passive influence from the nearby
planet Jupiter, and also serves as a translocation nexus
out to the Nephilim themselves. Such an event cannot
be done reliably; it requires the exertion of high tier
translocation implants and a certain degree of coop-
eration from the other side, but if you as a Guide are
looking for a way to get your players out to see one of
these creatures in person (or even to bring one of the
small ones inward temporarily) this is the spot to do it.
It requires colossal effort and is a short-lived event, so
work it into your plot as a sort of “terminal encounter”
that the players had to work very hard to arrange.
191
HUSH modern scientific knowledge about the Whisper entity
comes from dissections and exams made on pacified
Whispers inside Hush’s own chamber, as it watched.
The first Whisper captured alive, which ap-
The potential breach this represents is among TTI cor-
peared in the Trust chamber on the day of the final
porate security’s greatest regrets, but it’s the only way
recursion, was not shown to the public until years after
to get the work done.
Luna colony fell when it was determined that TTI could
The acquisition of a single living whisper is al-
claim having had enough time to capture one via
ready a colossal task. Hush’s influence only affects them
conventional means without bringing light to its actu-
on an individual level. If more than one is nearby, they
al arrival. It was given the project name “Hush,” and
begin acting in unpredictable ways, moving toward it,
marked the end of TTI’s recursion-based research era.
making new sounds, and a host of other behaviors TTI
Whispers are notoriously difficult to capture. Aside
doesn’t want to promote. Even
from being fierce fighters and
with Hush, it is necessary to
dangerous in any condition, when
remove a Whisper’s ability to
they no longer have things to kill,
actively fight before exposing
they solidify into whisperwerk
them, lest they dive into a vic-
structures, which seems to fun-
tim and replicate themselves,
damentally change their anato-
repel Hush’s influence, and
my. In short: live capture is next
cost TTI their most valuable
to unheard of in normal situa-
asset.
tions. Only TTI has had repeated
These efforts and operations
successful capture attempts,
helped shape the nature of
and they keep their proprietary
TTI’s modern image, and while
methods well hidden. Not sur-
many of the experiments did
prising, considering they barely
a better job of figuring out
understand how they’re doing it
what Whispers weren’t rath-
anyway.
er than what they were, that
Their secret weapon is
alone was a major catalyst
Hush, which seems to possess
toward the adoption of the
several unique properties that
modern day TTI mentality of
other Whispers don’t have. For
scientific ignorance: the claim
one, it (and its files have in-
that all of Vector-kind’s tech-
sisted on a genderless pronoun
nology amount to nothing in
despite its female appearance)
terms of the real breadth of
is not inherently violent. Hush
galactic knowledge.
is kept isolated and secured in
With the growing threat
a reinforced chamber orbiting
of Whisper incursion appear-
Neptune most of the time, but
ing from Earth and the very
it generally shows no interest in
real possibility that their own
other living things in its proximi-
experiments may have had
ty. It watches and whispers. This
something to do with it, TTI
has been an amazing benefit
would gradually switch gears
in terms of cursory anatomical
from clandestine experimen-
observation, but has actually
tation to open sales, in order
prevented deeper research more
to make practical use of the
than assisting it. If Hush were vi-
knowledge they’d been accu-
olent, it might be easier to justify
mulating and, hopefully, bring
dissecting it. As it is, its pacifism
it to bear against this new
combined with its other unique
threat. Transcendent implants,
property have kept it in safety
built off research conduct-
and free from experimentation
ed during the recursion era
for over a century. The other
and phenomenal improve-
property being that it extends
ments made afterward by
its pacifism to other Whispers
Taln Hiemdal, were marketed
in its proximity, making it far too
and sold to tap into the vast
valuable to risk disturbing.
stores of wealth the public
Other Whispers within about 15 feet and eye-
represented, and Hush was claimed to be a live cap-
shot of Hush will calm in much the same way it does,
ture using considerable resources rather than divulging
without entering a Whisperwerk state. They stop whis-
its true origin.
pering and reacting in general. Nearly every piece of
Hush’s true nature
Hush’s true nature is unknown to TTI and likely
won’t come into play during most campaigns, but if
your Guide would like to work with it, go for it. Hush
is to the Other’s agents as Whispers are to Vectors. It
is an agent of Hydra specifically tasked with interac-
tion and assimilation of Ra’s unique existence, and has
no vested interest in Vectors. As a rule, however, TTI
avoids exposing Hush to anything it considers provoc-
ative so they don’t put their asset at risk. This includes
not transporting it on bioships, not putting it in the
presense of a multitude of people or technology, and
not using transcendent abilities near it. It’s anyone’s
guess how much of any one thing it would take to get
a reaction out of the whisper, but with no more safety
net to fall back on, TTI doesn’t want to try.
THE RUBY SPIRE
The true nature of the Ruby Spire on Earth has
remained a mystery throughout its existence, and while
many have taken wild guesses or run simulations based
on what they figure is a reasonable assumption, the
inability to actually go and examine the thing in person
makes it awfully difficult to confirm anything.
The Spire’s actual purpose is more inward than out-
ward. It is slowly converting Earth into Whisperwerk,
and in the process, is illuminating all of its different
elements, minerals and independent compositions to
Hydra. Once added to Hydras overall illumination of
zero cuil, the MCM will have the ability to manipulate
those elements as readily as it now does with blood,
provided it has a node in proximity of them. This is
the true form of Hydra’s overall expansion. Once Earth
and Luna have been converted, both will act as res-
onate nodes for Hydra to reach through space and
touch the next nearest world containing similar mineral
constructs. It will root there and begin converting, much
faster than before, because it already knows what it’s
dealing with. Those worlds will then serve as nodes to
pass the MCM to the next world, and the next. The gas
giants are different, but still contain elements Hydra
will be familiar with through its conversion of the pre-
vious worlds. They will take more time, like Earth has,
but will eventually be converted as well, and serve as
additional nodes.
Planet by planet, Hydra will convert, illuminate,
and resonate, until Sol becomes a lifeless ruby network
with enough combined resonance to reach into the
space between solar systems, boosted by wander-
ing comets and planetoids that pass close enough to
be converted and sail off toward distant stars. Once
Hydra’s influence can reach just far enough to grab
the next world in the next solar system, the process
will begin again, and again, and again, from system to
system, each one adding to the collective “signal” of
Hydra. It’s not limited to mass. Radiant energy, gravity,
heat, light, it all counts. By the time the entire galaxy is
red in space, Hydra’s influence will be astounding, but
not nearly enough to span the amazing distances
between this galaxy and the next. But it likely won’t
need to. By then, it will have encountered other
races, other technologies, and improved its whisper
agents to do that job for it. The next galaxy will fall,
and the next, and those three together will have
influence enough to reach out to a fourth with-
out assistance. And those four will find a fifth,
and onward.
This process is extraordinarily slow to be-
gin, but with each landmark the threat grows, and
eventually, once it hits a terminal point, it cascades.
TRANSCENDENCE
Sol is nearing the first terminal point. Losing Terra
and Luna will put every inner terrestrial world in Sol
at immediate risk. Losing one of the gas giants will
finish the job. Losing Sol entirely will put all neigh-
boring star systems in peril. Losing enough of those
will doom the galaxy.
Taln Hiemdal’s final gift, though it will likely
go unnoticed, was to provide Sol with guard dogs.
Elsewhere in the galaxy, Ra is performing a very
similar process, and is much further along. There
are races that have been fighting it off for gen-
erations now. They know what it is and they know
what it does, and if they were aware that a second
such creature was just beginning in Sol, they would
obliterate the system rather than risk a war on two
fronts. The Nephilim prevent their approach, and
buy Vector kind precious time to try and solve the
problem themselves. Unfortunately, before they can
begin to figure out how, they need to recognize it for
what it is. That will likely be impossible as long as TTI
suppresses the facts about what they know.
TTI is currently trying to “starve out” Hydra by
preventing it from interacting with too much outside
of its current sphere of influence, specifically, anything
living. The absolute amounts of any one “thing” Hydra
needs to understand it to a degree of expansion is
unknown, and may actually fluctuate, as there’s no real
reason a creature not bound to one reality would have
a hard number associated to it. All TTI really knows is
that it needs exposure, and that it is just as viable on a
microscopic scale as it is on a macroscopic one. De-
stroying Earth, then, is not a benefit to the war against
its influence. It would only make particles of whisper-
werk which would then spread to new locations and
start again, after being exposed to potentially millions
of Vectors on board thousands of ships that came to
accomplish the deed to begin with. While preventing
Hydra’s absorption of elemental matter is ultimate-
ly more important than preventing it from absorbing
Vectors in terms of halting its growth across the solar
system, if all life is dead, there wont be much around
to stop it. Sol is currently trapped in a no-win situation,
where their level of tech and transcendent understand-
ing is simply insufficient to stop Hydra’s eventual victo-
ry. TTI is working to slow it, until their research
and abilities can catch up, or allies can be
found.
193
NEAR-CUIL REALMS
Cuil study is almost a contradiction in terms, as most of the things
beyond about the third abstraction of reality become too unrelated to
actually record. Nevertheless, having something, anything, that helps gen-
erate some sort of roadmap for the creation of transcendent technology
is imperative for TTI’s business as well as for furthering their understand-
ing of transcendence. Back before Hydra and the final recursion, TTI was
a lot more aggressive about this sort of thing. Now, with their safety net
gone, they do most of their research through “dives,” or short trips into
near-cuil realms.
A near-cuil realm is what it sounds like: an abstraction of reali-
ty that isn’t very far removed from what we take to be the “real thing.”
By taking care to not go too far, TTI can send agents and explorers into
realms where the drift in perception is fairly limited and comprehensible
and use what’s recorded there as a way to tune their implants. These al-
ternate dimensions can be troubling, horrifying, dangerous, disorienting, or
disturbing, but that’s what makes them useful. They are akin enough to our
own that visitors can grasp what they’re experiencing and in what ways it
differs from zero cuil, and bring that knowledge home. Any deeper in the
cuil drift and such observations become impossible.
There are a functionally limitless number of near-cuil abstractions
to travel into, but there wouldn’t be much to be gained by leaping blind-
ly into them without follow-up work, so TTI has a choice few they know
the “coordinates” for (have assembled specific translocation implants for,
essentially) that they arrange regular dives into. Intrusions into near-cuil
realms do not always go unnoticed, however, and not every intrusion is
entirely planned. The lines between these realities have been blurred,
by TTI’s many intrusions, by the prevalence of transcendent technology in
our cuil, and by our proximity to Hydra. Occasionally, people will fall into
worlds they never knew existed, just by rounding the wrong corner.
Diving is an ability inherent to the Ethereal and Translocation
implants, but anyone with a transcendent implant can end up accidentally
diving if the conditions are right, and even people without them can enter
near-cuil realms if junctions to them already exist. The realms TTI knows
“best” are those directly linked with the currently available Transcendent
implants. TTI’s ability to tune these implants to directly reflect specific
energies came from their exploration of these near-cuil realms, and the
heightened cuil levels of those implants reflect what happens when you
dive deeper than you should. Returning to Zero cuil involves finding a
doorway in your current realm. The doorway is typically literal: an actual
door, usually dramatically out of context with its environment. It is your
brain’s way of recognizing familiar energy in a strange place, and assign-
ing a value to it.
 Diving with the party
Entering a near cuil realm is a narrative action
more than it is a mechanical one. If you end up in
one of these places, it’s likely because the Guide
wants to incorporate it into the story. For this rea-
son, the means of deliberate diving listed here are
written as narrative things instead of “roll x,” The
idea being that if your party wants to explore
these realms, you’ll craft your story around mak-
ing the listed conditions occur.
TTI doesn’t inform people about these things
NEAR-CUIL REALMS
when they get Transcendent implants, so characters
will have to stumble across them through narrative
events or serendipity (or be informed due through
the plot). In order to keep the party together in
situations like this (even if everyone doesn’t have
an implant of their own), bear in mind that enter-
ing a near-cuil realm is generally sufficient in itself
to raise the local cuil bloom of that rupture point
to a degree that would allow others to follow you
through, provided they move quickly. The guide
ultimately has narrative control of getting the party
into the same area, and can do so by crafting the
scene to allow it. The entry descriptions are left a
bit open-ended so that you can determine the ap-
propriate difficulty for the task based on the sort of
story you want to run.
Most diving methods carry with them a degree
of personal risk. The system itself is reliable when
executed properly, but a split second’s mistiming
is all that separates success from death for many of
these transitions. We didn’t assign a “difficulty” to this
because the chances are good that, if you’re using this
as part of your narrative, it needs to succeed or the
scene isn’t going to go anywhere. However, if you feel
like (once your party knows how to do it) making the
situation a little more foreboding to avoid it happen-
ing regularly, we recommend attaching a “fear” check
to it rather than a “skill” check to it. If the character
fails the fear check, they don’t feel confident enough in
their ability to time their activation in the split second
it takes to save themselves from death to risk attempt-
ing it right now. They get cold feet, and won’t try.
This works out a little better than a skill-based check,
because if you fail that at the moment of use, well. You
probably die. Which tends to curtail the narrative.
MCMS IN NEAR CUIL
Most of the near-cuil realms have occasional
MCM visitation. Each realm is a universe unto itself,
and Hydra and its ilk are attempting to consume each
of them, but the methodology varies based on the rules
of that particular realm, so your encounters with them
will likewise change a bit. This is true of Whispers but
is most noticeable in orcas and owls. Orcas are
confined to Europa in zero cuil, but in many
other realms they can travel far beyond
196 there and are a more mobile threat. The Hy-
dra-infused owls were likewise destroyed in zero-cuil,
but “destruction” is a relative term in alternate reali-
ties. Some still exist, stalking the near-cuil realms, and
are capable of following invaders back to their own
realities.
Whispers and Orcas (being extentions of the
MCM’s that built them) change their behaviors de-
pending on what realm they’re in, but Owls are essen-
tially transcendent manifestations, and follow their own
rules regardless of their location. They are violent and
transitory, and if they find the party, they will attack
until evaded or destroyed.
Echo
The Echo glyph isn’t available as a purchasable
implant in most situations, but if you want to craft a
story around it, this could conceivably give you and
your party “time travel” abilities as a plot device. Bear
in mind they’re not actually traveling through time, but
rather hopping to alternate mirror realms that are akin
to 0 cuil in every way except for how much time has
passed since the dawn of the universe. Thanks to the
misguided efforts of TTI’s Trust, the other major factor
here is that Hydra exists in all mirror realms of zero
cuil in the same level of development, which can make
for some pretty dramatic changes depending on where
you go. If you were to say, travel back to WWII, Hydra
would still have covered the Earth in whisperwerk to
the same degree that it has in the present era, having
begun its process visibly roughly two centuries ago,
despite the events of Hydra’s discovery never actu-
ally having happened. What it knows in one place, it
knows in all of them. It is for this reason that Echo has
been abandoned as a potential solution for the MCM
problem. There is no way to outmaneuver Hydra though
time. But from a general adventuring standpoint, the
usual shinanigans associated with time travel, including
giving the characters the opportunity to run “test runs”
on things, can be done this way. Just keep in mind a
few important things:
You’re not actually affecting time, you’re just
changing locations. Anyone you screw over in another
dimension will remain in said screwed over state when
you leave them there. Which might not be an issue for
you, but it’s something to consider.
You cannot return to your home once you’ve left.
The Echo glyph returns you to the point of departure,
making it appear as though time has stopped and
immediately restarted to those who are watching, but
Echo doesn’t manipulate time. You have left your home
realm forever and reappeared in another whose time-
line has picked up immediately where yours ended.
Echo does not guide direction, it only opens the
gate. When you reach into Echo to travel, you are in-
stinctively asking for guidance from any being capable
of putting you where you want to be. The most likely
and local beings that can are the Nephilim and Hydra,
and if you do it often enough, they may decide to start
influencing your travel destinations.
 VESPER

“The distances in space can be described mathematically, but doing so lacks a certain awe that can only be
achieved by witnessing eternity firsthand. I first felt that awe in Vesper. Imagine our world, but split into a countless
number of fragments, each one connected as by neurons in a web of solid matter, with spaces in between so that you
could look down and, if you were able to find just the right angle, see all the way through the world. There is no such
angle, but if you were to find a path, you could walk it. One end to the other, through the middle. But the staggering
part, the part that makes the mind reel, is looking up and seeing the bridges continue into forever. There are pathways
like suspension bridges to the moons above you, and from them to the other worlds in the system. How they exist on
orbiting bodies, I cannot begin to guess, but there they are. Indescribably large.
I have seen two such bridges from our dive center on Europa. I know there are more, but from my vantage
point, only two were visible. One: to what I assume is Ganymede, and one stretching elsewhere, perhaps to Saturn, too
distant to see. But in Vesper, there is no atmosphere, no ocular occlusion, no pollution or distortion of light. It is pristine
in its pale beauty, and as I gaze out into the universe, the bridges are so myriad, so impossibly many, that they form
a fog that undulates and moves as my eyes struggle to focus on individual parts of it. And I could walk on them, if I so
chose. Up, down, directions are merely perception and assumption here. I could walk straight up, if I chose to interpret
it as level. As a spacer, I find I can do this easier than my fellow divers. Those who have spent their lives landlocked
have a harder time readjusting what they interpret as “down” and become victim to a gravity of their own creation.
There is a romance, to the loneliness. I could walk to Mars, if I had the time. There’s no vacuum, space, or pressure, just
a gentle breeze, and infinity. I wonder if the distance between worlds is equivalent, or subjective like the gravity is. If
it can be changed based on perception, this realm would be an ideal transit corridor.
Trena disagrees with me, and I sympathize. Vesper is the calmest of the realms I’ve dived in. Its serenity is wel-
come, even from zero cuil. But I have never been there while one of the orcas was near. She has, and will not return. I
do not question the precaution. Headquarters is discussing removing her from Europa entirely, in case the beasts can
somehow recognize her presence in zero now. There is no precedent for that, but I find I don’t question it, either.”
 VESPER
The Vesper realm is associated with the Ethe-
real implant and is a world of ghostly apparition.
Zero cuil terrain appears monochromatic here, and
most of the world is shades of gray and soft
blue. It’s a serene environment on first observa-
tion, but the terrain is precarious. Natives of this
realm move with ghostly grace, paying no heed to
gravity, and will wink in and out of existence, ap-
NEAR-CUIL REALMS
pearing in new areas without traversing between
them. Typically, there are massive gaps between
standing points in the ground here. It’s as though
a massive portion of the world you can perceive is
missing, and you can only hop and climb between
the parts that are left. Gravity is not universally
constant here, and the creatures in this realm can
be seen on walls, ceilings, or other surfaces, with
twisted terrain to match. Sometimes this will affect
visitors as well; sometimes it won’t, and they’ll have
to climb over the Escher-esque landscape.
There is no ground water in Vesper. It has
been suggested that the “fractures” that make the
realm seem broken and interconnected are actually
because all water sources in zero cuil that would
be reflected here have been removed. This detail
is of particular interest to TTI, as it would mean
Europa would be hollow, and it may be much easier
to approach the monolith in that condition, but the
unique nature of the Orcas in this realm make this a
daunting task to explore.
Vesper is among the “safer” near-cuil realms, as
most of the threats in it are based on terrain and can
be avoided with cautious footwork. Native creatures
of Vesper are typically unconcerned with visitors and
often act as though they can’t see them at all. Most
are long, spidery things that seem content to go about
their business. Vesper has some larger threats, but they
can typically be spotted and avoided. A good thing;
fighting in Vesper is risky. The terrain is thin and un-
predictable, and the falls can go for miles. The primary
native threat is based on creatures that pay little mind
to traditional combat. They are preternaturally agile
and react with sufficient speed to sometimes dodge
even firearm projectiles.
MCM activity
Whispers in Vesper manifest from water rather
than from blood, and travel in storms. It’s the only
“weather” in the realm, and the only water source. All
water brought into Vesper is at risk of becoming a
198
Whisper, including water within a person’s body. Rather
than diving into enemies as they do in 0 cuil, Whispers
will draw water from a person as a new member of
their storm.
Orcas in Vesper can swim freely through the
air and are the largest threat in the realm at any
given point. They’re not always present, but if one is
in the area it can usually be discerned by the behav-
ior of the local creatures or a stillness in the normally
active breeze. While it is possible (however difficult) to
attack one of these monsters in zero cuil, fighting one
in Vesper is a nearly impossible task. They can move
through the sky as easily as they move through wa-
ter, and are colossal in size and power; it is generally
unlikely that the party can bring enough equipment
through the breach to effectively combat one.
Transit
Vesper can be entered by activating a Trans-
location or Ethereal implant moments before landing
from a fall the user would consider to be life threaten-
ing. This is usually discovered by mistake, if the user is
falling to their death and activates their implant in a
last-ditch effort to save themselves. Possessors of other
implants can find themselves in Vesper if they dream
they’re falling and activate their implants in their sleep
as they wake up. Portals to Vesper are associated
with impact. If the local cuil Bloom is high, imminent
collisions (say, being hit by a car) can be sufficient to
shunt someone to Vesper moments before the collision
occurs.
Player risk in Vesper
Vesper is seductive because it is a relatively
safe alien environment. Divers who travel there will
likely get out again (at least at first) and it has con-
siderable value as a means to circumvent terrestrial
barriers. However, aside from its occasionally violent
native lifeforms, Vesper is the realm that Ra’s agents
can move most freely in, and as fractures of their
MCM, what they see is carried to their parallels in 0
cuil. Ra’s marine predators are intelligent and malicious
by terrestrial definition and will note the entrance and
exit locations of frequent divers. TTI makes a point to
dive in Vesper less than any other realm, specifically
because if the orcas can discern patterns of activity,
they will preempt that activity from multiple fronts.
Many of the mass suicide events on Europa are related
to orcas identifying divers in Vesper and “following”
them home.
 FRACTAL

“I pity those who have fallen into Fractal by accident and thought themselves saved. It is a
disturbingly simple realm to enter, and among the more outright lethal ones. Twisting your mind to
understand the rules by which Fractal exists is a painful and disturbing experience, and it affords
you very little time to do so. To its credit, if you succeed, it is among the few realms I have traveled
where you can fight on equal footing with its inhabitants.
Fractal is a world of the spirit, if such a thing exists. It reacts to your rage, your drive, your
emotion. You can level the landscape there with a shout, or pull swords out of the sunlight. The very
world seems to constantly attack you, but if you have the tenacity, you are equipped to strike back
at it. Doing so requires an utter commitment to the illusion. Very difficult to do, for a scientist. This,
I think, is the realm that best demonstrates TTI’s outlook: all we know about science and technology
is nothing. In Fractal, it is less than nothing. It is a liability, in fact. I shudder at the power an angry
child might possess in this realm. Alas, using that power still requires skills beyond mindless venting.
Such is Fractal’s eternal balance, and probably what keeps us below its natives.
I cannot fight in Fractal. I understand its concepts, and I comprehend what is needed of me,
but I find myself unable to abandon the relationships between force and technology I have lived
with all these decades. This inflexibility is a liability in Fractal, and I’ve been removed from active
dives there. I don’t like it, but I understand the reasoning and find it solid. I think, however, that
complacency is part of what makes me a liability. This is the land where the loose cannons thrive.”
 FRACTAL
The Fractal realm is associated with the Redi-
rection implant and is a crystalline jumble of light
and sound. Fractal’s terrain is jagged and sharp, as
though made of coral or igneous rock, and its
energy relationship is painfully unpredictable.
Light is a tangible force here; you can push and
pull it, or use strong beams of it to create bridges
and barriers, and warping them like taffy in your
NEAR-CUIL REALMS
hands. They will maintain the forms they’re shaped
into.
Fractal has many ambush predators that use
shadows as their hiding places, as it is actually
possible to push all the light out of a shadow and
make whatever is inside of it invisible. Some of
its denizens can also travel via light or reflection,
allowing them to manifest from glares or sunbeams.
Sound is the primary weapon here, and works
almost like an extension of one’s will, cutting and
bludgeoning when focused through emotion.
Weapons and projectiles don’t function prop-
erly in Fractal. Only focus provides a reliable result,
and as such, experienced Fractal divers will often
forgo equipment entirely, because their own will-
power serves as more reliable means of attack.
Functionally, they can operate as though fully
equipped when not equipped at all, but wearing
equipment in Fractal makes it impossible to fully
commit to the illusion of power required to mimic
the equipment. Essentially, travelers must travel un-
armed to be armed, and unarmored to be armored.
Fractal is not an ideal realm to use to travel past ob-
stacles in zero cuil, as walking through it while carrying
equipment puts you at much greater risk, and most
people don’t want to come out of the other side of
a hostile environment in an unknown situation with no
equipment.
MCM activity
Whispers in Fractal are constructed of sound,
and emerge from people’s sentences as they speak.
While in existence, the person who spoke them is
incapable of making sound of any kind, even if it isn’t
spoken. Silenced people cannot properly “will” their
attacks to have the strength of real weaponry and are
effectively disarmed (though their “armor” still works).
The Whisper itself is difficult to see, but not invisible,
and sounds like the person whose voice they stole. They
will use sentences and phrases to confuse the party
but won’t communicate in an intelligible fashion.
200
Orcas do not manifest physically in Fractal, but
they can be seen as silhouettes that bend the light
around them into massive, pitch-black voids as they
move. They cannot physically attack, but by “swimming”
through the hard-light terrain, they can cause it to roil,
bend, break, or deform around them, which can pro-
vide obstructions or damage travelers. Only their teeth
are visible within the darkness.
Transit
Fractal can be entered by staring into a bright
light until the image of the light sears into your reti-
nas as an afterimage. Attempting to teleport into that
afterimage as though it were a physical location using
the Translocation implant, or trying to walk into it with
the Ethereal implant, will land you in Fractal. Char-
acters with the Redirection implant can enter Fractal
accidentally if they catch their own reflection in a sur-
face and instinctively activate their implant in defense
against themselves. Portals to Fractal are associated
with overwhelming sensory input, and if the local cuil
bloom is high enough, substantial amounts of noise and
light (enough to render unconsciousness) can instead
send people to Fractal.
Player risk in Fractal
Fractal is a violent and unforgiving realm. Its
native creatures are almost all predatory, and the gut
reactions and instincts that would protect you in zero
cuil will not serve you well here. To represent this, it’s
recommended that you have players use Community
scores in lieu of Mind or Body stats in combat while in
Fractal, representing the character’s ability to express
their needs in such a way as to force the realm to con-
form to them.
Owls are even more dangerous in Fractal than
they are in most other realms, primarily because they
can affect a greater area. While generally imbued
with transcendent ability, in Fractal their innate rage
and power manifests as a more physical force, allow-
ing them to deform terrain to their whims. The best
way to combat an owl in Fractal is generally to lure
it into the influence of something that is unconcerned
with its natural mastery of the realm, like an MCM
manifestation. Of course, that might be killing an
enemy with a bigger one, but most MCM manifesta-
tions aren’t quite so personally vested in your death.
Whispers in particular can steal sound from an owl in
Fractal and reduce them to a fairly inconsequential
threat.
 STIFLE

“I have been to the null once. It is an experience I do not wish to repeat. Despite the considerable knowl-
edge to be gained there, it is no longer a place for the living. For anything, really. It is a husk. The leavings
of a creature Taln described as God. I find the description entirely apt, upon observation.
It is the most beautifully horrifying abstraction of reality I think I could imagine. The planet is
smooth, as though it were a lump of clay squished and sculpted by expert hands, pulled into oblong,
swooping shapes and left to hang motionless in space. The forms are alien in shape, and the mind strug-
gles to make sense of them. There is no reference. No up, no down. Concepts like direction do not exist in
Stifle. They have been reduced to nothing. Speed is non-existent. Time is non-existent. It is impossible to
fully describe that in words. I recall the frustration of trying to formulate a coherent report upon returning.
‘How is that?’ they’d ask. ‘If you raised your arm above your head, and then dropped it again, would it not
have traveled up, and then down? Would there not be a passage of linear action between the beginning
of the motion and the end of it? Is that not time?’ Of course it is. But it isn’t. Not there.
Entering Stifle is a horrible experience, requiring near death by suffocation. But as terrible as that
feeling is, it pales in comparison to the feeling of overwhelming apprehension that accompanies the arriv-
al of a second being in the null. The only thing worse than being alone in a dead universe is knowing you
are not alone. I have traveled the miles that aren’t miles in null, feeling the screaming terror of that knowl-
edge, that unmistakable certainty, that there is some walking madness at my back. I have felt it follow
me, and to this day, I worry that it will come through the breach and confront me here. My own personal
monstrosity. I lack the strength to face it. I was beaten without ever looking. It is a personal shame I will
never live down.
I don’t swim anymore. I don’t fear drowning. I fear I may begin to drown, and not be allowed to
finish.”
 STIFLE the MO of most hunters in Stifle. They will lie in wait
and watch from the dark until their quarry returns to
its native realm, then follow them through the breach
The Stifle realm is associated with the Nullifi-
to wreak havoc on the other side. While transcendent
cation transcendent implant and is a world of dark-
entities typically have varied and occasionally incom-
ness and horror. Here, the universe is still and silent,
prehensible motivations, ones that originate from Stifle
and the stuff that spins matter together has
are almost always powerful and aggressive. It’s one of
broken down into cobwebs and gossamer. There
many reasons TTI doesn’t like to send people there.
are no suns burning, no planets turning, and no
Stifle’s major “advantage” is as a first-contact
living creatures still drawing breath (if air were still
center. Transcendent entities are nearly impossible to
a thing to breathe). It is dead. But it is not empty.
observe or research because they only exist in zero
NEAR-CUIL REALMS

Stifle is a near-cuil abstraction that has been

cuil when they’re pulled through, and their state is
host to an MCM for long enough for it to illumi-
quasi-supernatural and doesn’t conform to our physics,
nate all aspects of this particular universe and
which makes it hard to measure in any meaningful way.
bring them to stagnation. It’s a haunting reflection
In Stifle, zero cuil entities manifest just like other enti-
of what may become of our own universe someday.
ties do, and there is no background “noise” to confuse
Whatever laws of physics this universe followed
an observation. That, combined with invulnerability,
were distinct enough from our own that its con-
makes it possible to approach another entity with im-
sumption did not translate into our own consumption
punity, provided you can find them before they find you
(or the MCM that did it is not currently in our uni-
and can get away from them before you come home.
verse) but that doesn’t remove the threat associat-
Knowledge gained this way allows for greater under-
ed with diving in stifle. Based on TTI’s understanding,
standing of individual behavior in extra-cuil beings. It’s
to reach this state, an MCM must understand every
a noble goal, but not so useful as to be worth repeat
aspect, every concept, every particle of a universe’s
visits.
construction. That includes those aspects that facil-
It’s also a great transit plane, as the entry and
itate inter-cuil travel, thus making it privy to every
exit points in Stifle are subject to the intent of the user.
venture into and out of its domain. As curious as TTI
Exiting through a doorway in Stifle can place you with-
is to know which MCM caused this realm’s destruc-
in a few miles of anywhere you want it to in zero cuil,
tion, the risk of letting it into our own is too dan-
and portals powered from here will be reachable by
gerous. TTI doesn’t dive to Stifle, and as such people
those in Stifle (though they won’t necessarily be close
who find themselves there accidentally are on their
to them). Unfortunately, doorways are very scarce: the
own.
realm doesn’t make its own, so it’s reliant on previous
Diving in Stifle requires the Manifestation im-
existing portals from Zero cuil “lighting up” due to high
plant, which will allow a diver to manifest themselves
cuil activity on the other side. This is all luck, but the
in the realm in a form that can exist in its “natural”
phenomena that allow you to “see” in Stifle also allow
state. Without it, a diver cannot survive here. There
you to “feel” an active door, so you know what direc-
is no molecular motion, no light, no heat, nothing to
tion to go.
perpetuate existence. Only transcendence can persist
Hydra and Ra do not exist in any relatable form
here, shielded by its alternate reality sheath. Manifest-
here. It’s possible they haven’t found it yet, or that one
ing here will allow you to wander the ruins of worlds
of them did, won, took it over, and has since grown to
frozen in interlinking lattices of gossamer matter like
such a degree as to be unrecognizable. Trying to evoke
bridges that span the cosmos, uniting every world in a
the Hydra in this realm isn’t actually a particularly dan-
single, motionless entity, unable to even collapse under
gerous task (it won’t respond, there’s nothing in here
its own gravity, as none still exists. It is illuminated by a
left for it to want); the real fear is letting whatever
faint glow from nowhere and some divers report feel-
MCM is in here out into zero cuil. If it’s already here
ing a gentle wind from time to time, but the sensory
then there’s no risk, as it already knows all that was
perceptions actually being experiencd do not pertain
illuminated in Stifle and apparently can’t translate to
to light or air. It is some sort of other sense connected
our own reality. But if it isn’t here yet, showing it our
to being a manifestation, and what it’s actually de-
reality brings yet another God-like destroyer to our
tecting is unknown. This may be what the final state of
realm, one that may be able to progress even faster
Hydra looks like, but how far out, or after what events,
than the ones we have already. As a narrative threat,
is a mystery.
this is “why TTI leaves this place alone.” It’s not a factor
Stifle is not empty. Transcendent entities do
for your own games unless you want it to be.
pass through here, and are capable of sensing each
other over vast distances. While manifested, every-
thing in Stifle is essentially invulnerable, as the physics Transit
required for conflict no longer function. Projectiles, Stifle can be entered by using a Transloca-
explosives, impacts, it’s all meaningless here. tion or Ethereal implant while suffocating, the instant
However, it is possible to follow manifesta- before you would fall unconscious. Drowning is the
202 tions back to their native cuil, and that is most common occurrence of this, typically by those
desperate to get to the surface. Stifle has a second-
ary condition, however: you must possess (or be in the
company of) a Manifestation implant. It will activate
on its own upon entering Stifle, but if you lack it, you
will die on entry. In fairness, you were about to die of
suffocation, so it probably won’t make much difference
to you, aside from your body vanishing forever. Because
the manifestation, in this case, is instinctual rather than
a forced pull of other beings, a single implant by one
diver is sufficient to manifest anyone accompanying
them.
Possessors of other implants can find themselves
in Stifle if they follow transcendent entities leaving
zero cuil into a cuil that is too far removed from our
own to be comprehensible. They will essentially shunt
into Stifle, dragging the entity with them, which will
instinctively manifest with its own abilities and likewise
grant manifestation to the person following them. Por-
tals to Stifle don’t exist naturally. The realm does not
possess the energy to make them. However, there are
many locations in zero cuil that have previously existing
weak walls that can be ruptured with high cuil bloom.
Transcendent combat can sometimes accomplish this.
Player risk in Stifle
There is no player risk in Stifle, but it is
among the more frightening locations to send a
player to because of what they might bring back
with them. Use Stifle as a quiet threat. It’s a lonely
location, which makes it all the more provocative
when it suddenly becomes populated. Shadowy
shapes may dart through the character’s vision
here or there, or they may see nothing at all.
They may forever feel like they’re being followed,
only to look behind and see nothing. Or they may
NEAR-CUIL REALMS
look behind and see a towering nameless monstros-
ity observing them, and be powerless to prevent the
observation. They will know that if they find a way
home, their stalker will likewise find it. Maybe it will
follow immediately. Maybe it will wait. Maybe it will
arrive nearby, or far away. Its nature in zero-cuil
may be entirely different from its nature when it
was observed in Stifle. But regardless, the player
will be aware that they have personally opened a
doorway for something of unknown power and in-
tent to walk into our universe, and to make matters
worse, it knows them.
203
 VAST

“We risk our lives with every dive, in very different ways. All carry with them a degree of fear, but I think Vast
is...the healthiest fear. The most natural fear. It’s a fear I actually enjoy. I can’t say the same for some of my
compatriots, but we all have our preferences. I’ve made the Vast dive over one hundred times. I’ve encountered
a Nephilim once. It is a cherished memory, and a most potent reminder of our scale in the universe.
I dove, as always, and emerged in the blackness of space with no point of reference and no direction.
The ambient temperature around my suit read 4K. Our best dive suits can only operate for 5 minutes at that
temperature. I began my mantra, as always. I breathed. Focused. Cleared the cuil bloom from my body. It takes
several minutes to do. There’s always that bit of panic when you arrive, that you won’t be able to refocus fast
enough to teleport again before the suit fails. You have to rise above it. It is a frightening experience, but it is
a terrestrial fear. A simple, basic, natural fear. A fear that can be overcome. I am left with two minutes to ex-
plore. The suit drops its locator probe. That transmitter probably costs 10 credits to manufacture. My breakfast
costs more. The suit delivering it costs over 20 million. It never makes the return trip, either. 20 million lost with
every dive, all to buy one person two minutes to look around.
Worth it.
The things I’ve witnessed in the far reaches of space are beyond description. The dive brings you to
things you feel have importance. It isn’t always apparent, and many dives feel like you’ve landed nowhere but
adrift, but there is always something, if you can just find it. I have seen life. True, alien life. I’ve seen ships and
planets and civilizations. I’ve seen unspeakable horrors feasting on stars. And once, I turned, and was bathed in
the glow of one of Hiemdal’s God children. And I was beautifully afraid. Because this is our universe, our cuil,
and when faced with such incomprehensible realities as those we encounter in our other dives, it is remarkably
refreshing to be reminded of how baffling, how humbling, how vast, our own reality is.
I return from the dive clutching a toggle with the accumulated sensor data from the suit downloaded
into it. The suit itself explodes on contact with normal temperatures, unable to transition from the environment
it was just in. I am vomiting, and the doctors are treating me for shock and hypothermia. I am smiling.”
VAST philim, which stand sentry around Sol specifically to
prevent things like this from occurring. When work-
ing with the Nephilim as a narrative force, remem-
Vast is associated with the Translocation
ber that they don’t “patrol” the Oort cloud like a
implant, and is actually zero cuil; it is simply another
bunch of guards you can slip past. In fact, you’re not
location in it. “Another location” is a relative term, and
literally “passing” them at all when you translocate.
in this case, the scale of that relation is the entirety
Your intentions are as much a flag as your body
of the universe. A scale that is so large it is ultimately
is. The Nephilim rarely intercede with innocent
self-defeating in terms of practical use, but diving in
dives for observation, but they can detect when
Vast has a unique property: the implant will always
you’re trying to seek out specific things they may
take you to something relevant to your desires. This can
take issue with (like other MCMs, or powerful tran-
be very abstract. Sometimes you’re not sure what you

NEAR-CUIL REALMS
scendent assets).
want to find. Often there’s no real way to know how to
Running their blockade is easier if you bring
describe it to the implant in a way that will translate.
less with you. They’re almost sure to stop departing
In short, “aiming” is pretty impossible. But the benefit
bioships, but individuals or small groups have more
is that, despite the enormity of its scale, a dive in Vast
luck. It’s not clear whether this is because they con-
will always take you “somewhere.” You may have very
sider the group less of a threat or because they’re
little time when you arrive to figure out what it is the
easier to monitor when they come back. The latter
implant has homed in on, or what relevance it may
is the more likely: MCMs think of “threat” on the
have to anything, but there will be something there to
scale of the universe they’re measuring it in. On a
find. A planet, a creature, an anomaly or entity. It won’t
linear scale of potential threat when the far left of
have a label or a description, but it is a thing to ob-
the line is nothing and the far right is the inevitable
serve, and (hopefully) to bring that observation home.
heat-death of the universe, a single person, a bat-
Vast matches Stifle in terms of hostile environ-
tleship, and a supernova are so close together they
ments. Not only will you arrive in space, you will very
may as well be indistinguishable.
likely arrive in deep space, where the ambient tem-
The big thing to remember about using
perature is barely above absolute zero. Without prop-
these cosmic guard dogs is that Hiemdal didn’t cre-
er protection, this is instant death. Standard spacesuits
ate them to keep Sol safe; he created them to keep
won’t do; you will need to be wearing a specialized
the universe safe from Sol. As such, they don’t have
suit developed for that environment. They’re expensive
much cause to stop explorers from going out and
and difficult to manufacture, so TTI keeps Vast dives to
finding new worlds and new civilizations to interact
a minimum on the independent level. However, there
with, because if we invite death upon ourselves it’s our
is another use for Vast that TTI has been capitalizing
business. But they will try and prevent the spread of
on for years now. Their bioships actually know how to
our transcendent presence, or the retrieval of extrater-
navigate it.
restrial technology that would lead to that, or even the
Special TTI bioships with the Translocation
attraction of other lifeforms that might be even more
ability can move themselves and their crews to distant
reckless with the stuff than Sol is. They’re good at it,
locations long enough to legitimately explore them.
too, but they’re not perfect. Engineering ways to avoid
Bioship pilots have greater control over the destination
the gaze of the Nephilim while seeking alien tran-
via the ship than a normal diver does, which can allow
scendence is a unique story challenge best left to the
them a better opportunity to actually aim for some-
imaginations of the players.
thing. Nonetheless, most deep space dives are literal
shots in the dark, to learn about distant locations and
bring that knowledge home. Amazing discoveries have Transit
been made this way, and contribute to TTI’s slowly Vast transit is generally a “mistake,” brought
growing bank of esoteric and alien knowledge. It is, upon by transcendent catastrophe or cuil bloom and
however, a supremely risky job. Individuals are general- usually associated with the Translocation implant. Lucky
ly too small and fragile to attract the attention of the users are usually relocated to nearby worlds, thanks
Nephilim, but bioships are not. Hiemdal’s titans can pull to the implant’s tendency to centralize on events and
a translocating ship directly to them and reduce it to locations of particular importance to the user, but
ruin. Getting through is entirely dependent on attract- being shunted into deep space is possible and is as
ing the attention of the right Nephilim at the right much of a death sentence as it sounds. Transiting to
time, and is, so far, a precarious dance. Vast as a deliberate action requires a Translocation
implant and something uniquely alien to focus on. It
needn’t be physical, but it does need to be a feeling
MCM activity or experience from beyond what you consider to be
Hydra is the least of your worries when div-
“local space.” TTI has successfully recovered alien
ing in Vast, mostly because you’re leaving it behind.
artifacts from previous dives, and exposure to
However, Ra exists elsewhere in the universe, and it is
them is generally enough to instill a proper
narratively possible to encounter areas affected by it.
Your primary interaction here, however, is with the Ne-
experience into someone’s mind to get them
205
 to initiate a Vast dive. For those going cold, your
best bet is to get as far out from Sol as you can,
and not plot a way to return. This typically involves
blowing up or disabling your own ship when you’re
too far out to be rescued, and initiating the tele-
port while floating in the black. It was with this
method that the first Vast jumps were initiated.
The knowledge that the only way to survive this
experience is with a successful Vast jump ap-
pears to be a functional catalyst for initiating one.
That said, success is not guaranteed.
NEAR-CUIL REALMS
Assuming you manage to survive your first trip
out, repeat trips are easier. That first dive grants
you a personal experience with the universe and
an understanding of zero cuil that is unique among
Vectors. You can use that experience going forward,
and accumulate more each time you dive. Likewise,
bioships can dive Vast with ease; they have an in-
stinctive understanding of how the zero cuil universe
functions.
206
Player risk in Vast
From a literal standpoint, Vast is enormous-
ly risky. Almost every destination will lead to instant
death if you’re not wearing the right equipment, and
“the right equipment” is a space suit that costs more
than a ship and still only grants you very short-lived
protection from the temperatures of deep space. That
said, sending player characters through Vast is a nar-
rative action and generally part of the plot, at which
point the risks are largely up to the Guide. It’s possible
to Vast dive right onto other breathable worlds, or
into comfortable solar systems with temperatures that
will allow a standard space suit to keep you functional
for hours. Vast is our own universe, so while the condi-
tions can be extreme, they’re at least comprehensible.
How much risk you levy on the diver here is linked to
how the dive was performed and what the story needs
from it. Still, try not to let players get too comfortable
in their “plot armor.” Vast dives are an appropriate
place to add a small, but possible, random chance for
cataclysmic failure.
 WRITHE

“Writhe is both humbling and revolting in equal measure, which, perhaps, is true of its reflection.
Quite the point, really. In this realm, we see a communal mass of Sol’s thoughts flowing as a single swarm
of entities not constrained by physical law, and the result is this...vile, twisted mass of bodies that flow like
syrup through alien streets, bogged down by the weight of societal constraint and hatefully violent to-
ward change. Though I know it isn’t scientifically accurate, I can’t help but feel like I’m witnessing souls here,
pounded and beaten into a homogeneous mass. You see bright lights try to leap out of it, now and again.
We’re not certain what they are, really. Aberrant thoughts perhaps. They break out of the mess and push it
away, and it recoils and lifts and swells and crushes down on top of them like the weight of the tide, and
leaving nothing.
Of the realms I’ve dived, none are more personally offensive than Writhe. It makes you question
yourself, it makes you question your people, your cause, your conviction. We’re taught to distance ourselves
from it, and we do, we do. But it’s impossible to leave Writhe and walk among the pristine streets of Eu-
ropa and not feel the roil of contempt and disdain in the pit of your stomach. I find it best to focus on the
fear, rather than the message. Thankfully, there’s no shortage: it is a dangerous and terrifying place.
Despite the squirm in the roads and the alleys, there is a sort of redemption here, troubling though
it is. I personally consider it to be Writhe’s most valuable lesson about how easily swayed we are based
solely on appearance. The aberrant, as we call them. Beautiful. Profoundly beautiful. Like creatures of
dream and fantasy that appeal to you on base and complex levels simultaneously. You want to reach out
to them as they fly by, desperate to escape the gray mass below them. You want to be the one that stands
above the crowd. They’re enviable. But I know that here in zero, any given one of them may be a killer, a
rapist, a boiling lunatic, who only stand out in Writhe because of how far they’ve strayed from the rules
that hold society together. Perhaps that’s the real cause of my revulsion. It is upsetting to recognize how
your sympathies can be tugged simply by dressing a monster like an angel.”
 WRITHE
Writhe is associated with the Dislocation
implant and is a sort of personification of the
social mores of society moving together as millions
of swarm-like bodies congealed in a squirming
sludge. Each is slightly different, reflective of
personal differences, but the majority of their
anatomy and appearance is a uniform hue and
pallid color, like a corpse, drug along by an invisible
NEAR-CUIL REALMS
current and limply crammed alongside the next one.
They move like rag dolls, and the entire mass shifts
and spreads like it shares a consciousness. And in a
way, it does.
Writhe depicts the narrow mold and limited
direction forced on Sol by its own societies. Tech-
nically, each nude, lifeless body in the squirm is a
unique individual with their own thoughts and ideas,
but in Writhe, those differences are literally ranked
beside their day to day actions and activities.
Compared to the constant, unending patterns Sol’s
citizens take (eating at appointed times, sleeping at
appointed times, working in appointed places, com-
municating in appointed languages, and every single
other action taken purely to coexist in a coherent
society) those differences are a percentage almost
too small to measure. The vast majority of individual
behavior taken on a daily basis is purely to allow a
person to exist communally in a set of established
rules, and in Writhe that fact is depicted physically.
Writhe itself does not put a value of “good” or “bad”
on this, it just shows it. Most divers, however, see the
squirm and view it with revulsion.
This is one of the larger emotional threats of
Writhe, not because of the squirm itself, but because
of the innate tendency of divers to want to “help” the
creatures that try and break free of it. Typically, things
pulling free of the squirm are beautiful. They might be
a physical ideal of some sort, or a vibrant color, or an
intoxicating shape or fascinating appearance; it varies
based on the person it represents, but in Writhe they
are always amazing to behold. The squirm reacts very
negatively to them and will swallow them up, crush
them under bodies, or batter them against the land-
scape to subdue them. It feels very much like watching
creativity die. Perhaps it is. However, TTI is adamant
about not helping aberrants escape from the squirm.
Aside from the adjacent parallel in zero cuil being
difficult to map (Writhe is linked to zero cuil, as most
near-cuil realms are, but the exact physical locations
of the squirm and aberrants do not necessarily trans-
late to any real location on our side) aberrants aren’t
simply “creative ideas” being quashed. They may well
be philosophies of genocide, aspirations of domination,
or nihilistic plans for mass devastation. They are the
antithesis of current social practice, in one form or
another, and from the Writhe side there’s no
way to tell if you’re helping the next Gandhi
208 or the next Hitler.
The terrain in Writhe is beautiful, but in a goth-
ic, foreboding sort of way. The buildings and structures
represent ideals of society, but are in turn feeding the
squirm by virtue of their existence. As a result, they
appear as a sort of techno-organic hybrid structure,
alive and dead at once, with beautiful sculpting and
detail but threatening posture. Divers have described
them as “the monster we live in, stripped of its veneer,
so that you can actually see its teeth and claws as it
eats us each day.”
MCM activity
Whispers take on one of their most unique
appearances in Writhe, and TTI returns to this realm
regularly to try and observe it, as it’s one of the few
places where such things are moderately safe. Whis-
pers are an alien antithesis, and rather than appear-
ing as human-sized things in the mass, they appear as
enormous striders, towering above the squirm as beau-
tiful crystalline angels. They’re awe-inspiring to look at,
and easy to see. The squirm fights them, and they fight
back, and largely will leave divers alone. TTI suspects
that what’s actually happening here is the concept
of “Whisper,” perhaps appearing during a Whisper
attack, is disrupting day-to-day operations in zero cuil
on an enormous basis due to the fear and uncertainty
they provoke. Disruptive or not, though, life does go
on, and for many it goes on just as it always has, and
as such the giant crystalline deities that stride through
the mire in Writhe are largely overwhelmed by the
tides they’re constantly fighting, and don’t seem to do
considerable damage to the place in most witnessed
occurrences.
Whispers do have a unique ability here, how-
ever: divers have occasionally witnessed them dipping
into the squirm and consuming parts of it. The con-
sumed individuals then seep out of various vents on the
entity’s body and rejoin the flood, but are tinged red.
With no real way to directly map who those “bodies”
are in zero cuil, confirmation has been impossible, but
it has been theorized that this is the way the Hydra
MCM is spreading its “infection” to different Vectors
in Sol who are entirely unrelated to each other, with
no means of transmission, across enormous distances.
Hydra’s knowledge of the physics of Writhe allows it to
literally spread by metaphor.
Orcas have one of their more interesting man-
ifestations here. Ra’s influence on Sol’s psyche is very
minor when the whole population is considered, but
it generally has a noticeable influence on the diving
party, which will probably know about it through their
TTI training. In Writhe, aspects of the orca can actually
manifest out of your body, becoming a maw that ex-
tends from your arm or tail, or a second mouth emerg-
ing from your face and hinging it upward to speak.
And they do speak. TTI believes this is more your own
doubt and subconscious opinions being given a face
than the actual personality of a specific orca probe,
but they tend to keep people who see them often
away from the water.
Transit
Transit to Writhe can be achieved by using the
Translocation or Ethereal implant while looking into
a set of mirrors or reflective surfaces that are facing
each other, thus creating a long tunnel of reflections.
Attempting to teleport or walk to the end of that
tunnel will send you to Writhe. Characters with the
Dislocation implant can also end up there accidentally
if they attempt to use their implant to force away an
idea rather than a physical object. While this has been
recorded as successful, it’s very unreliable. Most often
it results in the user accidentally forcing the offender’s
head to explode rather than actually unseating some-
thing as vague as a concept. It is sometimes possible
to force into and out of Writhe through cuil bloom left
behind after Whisper events.
Legacy memory
The legacy memory phenomena are among
the more esoteric in Sol, in that they appear nearly
magical in nature and can’t be traced back to any
particular genetic manipulation in Vector past. They’re
also among the more publicly doubted ones. Even Cogs
occasionally claim to have human memories or per-
sonalities embedded in their minds, but brain scans of
people with legacy memory don’t show inherent signs
of a cause, and what few clones have been made in
experiments show inconsistent results. Typically, this
lands in TTI’s field, and TTI brass does have theories
about what legacy memory might be. But of the vari-
ous fires TTI tends, this one ranks low. For every genuine
claim of a human connection someone has, there are a
thousand false ones. The anomaly is in vogue right now,
having captured public whimsy, and its authenticity is
highly suspect.
Nevertheless, it exists.
Legacy memory is a result of displaced human
“souls” latching onto Vectors and other sapients by
means of extra-cuil contact. Realms like Writhe are
most likely responsible for this, where the physical
death of a body doesn’t always correlate to the death
of what they represented, and where individuals are
less physically distinct than they are philosophically
congealed. Writhe isn’t the only place where things like
this can happen, but it’s among the easiest to actu-
ally see it occur, even if you’re not able to tell who is
attaching to what. In zero cuil, the bonding becomes
a shared existence, where the body owner inherits
thoughts, memories, and mannerisms of the person who
has found them. This can actually make them attrac-
tive to additional habitation, as each new personality
solidifies the “structure” of the person’s identity and
relates them further to humanity.
It is possible to have a whole host of similar
minds in one person, driving their dreams and interact-
ing with them. It’s less disorienting than it seems. For
a legacy memory to take, the entity that it comes
from must be near enough to you in personal identi-
ty to effectively mistake your cosmic registry number
for their own. How it comes to this conclusion is
the part that interests TTI the most. By its nature, it
seems to be intelligent. That suggests an afterlife
of some kind, in the form of a conscious energy
capable of recognition not only of self but of
others like it. However, it could just as easily be a
natural behavior of the energy itself, like a magnet
NEAR-CUIL REALMS
being attracted to iron. Rare as it is, it’s difficult
to experiment on, especially because even legacy
holders who can have lucid conversations with their
residents can’t seem to “update” their information.
The human personality will know your own personal-
ity, your fears, your emotions, and can relate to your
feelings, but it is unaware of its condition, cannot
seem to update its own personal memory to include
being dead, and will essentially thrust memories
into your head regardless of whether or not you
argue with them. At present, there’s more evidence
suggesting that lucid legacy memories are more of
a personal hallucination wherein your subconscious
speaks through their mouth rather than an actual
interaction with an intelligent being.
Legacy memory does provide one final,
curious insight, however. Many anomalies in places
like Writhe cannot be readily identified on sight.
However, some, like the Whispers, do seem to be
able to recognize each other, and the other things. If
human registrations can in rare circumstances identify
Vector, and even Cog, registrations as “same” enough
to commune with, without actually engaging in any sort
of direct communication with them using a language
we recognize, it is possible the same could occur with
other races from elsewhere in the galaxy. With the
discovery of genuine Legacy memory, TTI has had to
ponder the possibility that some people in the past
previously thought to be delusional or insane may have
actually been playing host for an alien consciousness
that drifted along and found them.
Player risk in Writhe
Whispers are a minor risk in Writhe; you really
need to get in one’s way for it to notice you. Its prima-
ry concern is the squirm. The squirm itself is a massive
tide of bodies that can crush you if you fall into it and
will try to grab you if you stray too close. The major
threats here are aberrants, which can vary in reac-
tion to your presence from affectionate to violent, and
“machines,” which TTI believes are physical representa-
tions of social rules, which stride among the squirm and
surrounding architecture like vile spiders and keep it
all moving. They will actively hunt invaders and are very
powerful foes.
209
Glow
Glow is associated with the Excitation implant
and is a realm of pure energy, which has the unfor-
tunate downside of being instantly lethal to anything
material that enters it. However, the energy from Glow
has unique properties that allow it to be harnessed
and focused through transcendent means, such as the
Excitation implant. Energy in modern day Sol is fairly
plentiful, but there are still considerations that need to
be made when using it: reactor placement, size, weak
points in designs reliant on centralized power, etc.
Glow’s energy is effectively infinite; it is the very nature
of the realm to be energetic. Through the right tran-
scendent objects, that energy can be harnessed to run “I have to assume there are countless
ships, cities, or whole worlds, with no more equipment realms like Glow, and we just happen
than a few small glyphs. It can even be decentralized, to only know about this one. It’s frankly
with local sources inside of individual objects to power surprising we haven’t accidentally stum-
them without fear of ever running dry or losing connec- bled into more. I think the divesoul has
tion to a vulnerable main reactor. something to do with that. What keeps
Like most things that sound too good to be someone from diving directly into a wall
true, Glow has several inherent problems that have when they dive? Or above an endless
drop? Terrain isn’t always consistent
kept it off the project list for some time. The largest
between realms, so one would think that
is an inability to work on it directly, as it just destroys the chances of diving directly into some-
anything inside it. This results in experimentation need- thing lethal would be fairly high, espe-
ing to take place from the outside, which is a little like cially into places like Vesper which are
holding the ocean above your head in an enormous fish precarious at best. But it never happens.
tank and then poking a small hole in the bottom of the Something about the divesoul puts you
tank to collect a little water to look at. The resulting in a position of relative, if temporary,
water pressure would likely cut through you and what- stability. Glow has no such places, but
ever you were standing on, and Glow is much larger the fact that we found it at all suggests
that, maybe, somewhere in there, there
than an ocean. That’s assuming your metaphoric fish-
is something we can use. I think that’s its
bowl didn’t crack while you punctured it, which is an draw, and why it’s such a damned prob-
even larger problem. lem. Seems like every year someone gets
The second issue, equally dangerous but less caught trying to use Glow as a power
immediately apparent, is that the energy in Glow isn’t source or a super weapon or a fountain
a direct translation to electricity or heat or radiation of youth or who knows what else, and it
or anything else we interpret as energy. It can be, with always ends the same way: corpses and
the right focus, but it can also be a myriad of other paperwork.”
things. It can be made to heal or grow things. It can
be made to behave with actual intelligence. It can be
made into physical objects. It can be made to sustain
life without food or water. Presumably, it can be made
to do anything, if you knew how to focus it. But that
last bit runs into the aforementioned, potentially ga-
lactically devastating complication.
Even if the risk of catastrophic overflow were
not present, the manipulation of this energy is not an
exact science. Perhaps it could be, with more research,
but the danger and difficulty inherent to that preclude
the possibility. So most attempts are wishful thinking
and untested concepts, and the side effects (while
more localized than the energy overflow worry) are
frightful. Glow energy that isn’t properly restrained (if
such a thing can be properly restrained) tends to mu-
tate things in zero cuil, with almost intelligent malevo-
lence.
 TRANSCENDENT LEVELS OF KNOWLEDGE
Everyday person
Whispers are probably aliens or mutated bio-
weapons from Earth. Hydra is nothing. Project Echo is
nothing. The Nephilim were a horror trend a long time
ago that was nothing but a hoax. Owls were mutants
gone wrong and cannot be Vectored successfully. Tran-
scendent implants are safe.
Historians (player characters usually land between
this option and the first option)
Whispers are probably aliens or mutated
bioweapons from Earth. Hydra was an advanced
computer program responsible for the final attack on
Earth. Project Echo is nothing. Owls were mutants gone
wrong. They likely could be rebuilt to function correctly
should any corp want to take responsibility for their
reintroduction into the population, but the original files
for their genome are missing. The Nephilim don’t exist
but came from a document written by a once-great
scientist that makes for great study. Transcendent im-
plants are safe, but the technology itself can probably
be used for great ill.
TTI employees (this is also a good knowledge lev-
el to apply to TTI sub-corp owners. Like all megacorps,
there are subsidiaries within TTI that have nothing to
do with the actual mother organization itself. Their
presidents have a great deal of wealth and power but
are only concerned with their own internal secrets, not
those of the massive umbrella they work under)
TTI developed transcendent technology through
their own research. Whispers are probably aliens, but
they do seem to behave in odd ways with transcendent
implants, suggesting some relation between the two.
Hydra was an advanced computer program respon-
sible for the final attack on Earth. Project Echo is the
name of the first TTI experiments with transcendent
technology. Owls were mutants gone wrong but likely
could be rebuilt to function correctly should any corp
want to take responsibility for their reintroduction into
the population, but the original files for their genome
are missing. The Nephilim don’t exist but came from a
document written by a once great scientist that makes
for great study. Transcendent implants are safe, but
some people possess unique and unexplained internal
properties that cause them to behave in unpredictable
ways.
TTI brass
TTI piggybacked off of salvaged human exper-
iments, namely Project Echo, to develop its technology.
Hydra is an MCM, the only one known to exist. Whis-
pers are transcendent entities, not aliens. Their pur-
pose is invasion. The owls were altered by Hydra and
could be rebuilt without the hydra glyph and function
normally, but doing so would be admitting that the
technology was part of human legacy and as such
considered public domain by corporate agreement.
The owl genome file is not missing; it is stored in a
secured server on Europa. The alien monolith on Euro-
pa is most likely the first extra-dimensional breach in
the solar system, probably put there by transcendent
manifestations, and gave Project Echo its initial glyph
so many years ago, though it’s anyone’s guess as to
how. The orcas that now haunt the sea are what the
owls were and were probably mutated by Hydra. They
could probably be destroyed through the use of over-
whelming firepower, but we have no idea what sort of
response that might provoke.
Whispers work for Hydra to extend its influence
among the stars. They’re slowly converting everything
they contact to a singular, homogeneous mass. It may
take billions of years to complete, or it may be waiting
for a catalyst that makes it happen overnight. Hydra
doesn’t particularly care about “time.” The Nephilim do
exist, but are very far away and are an idle threat.
TTI board
Whispers don’t work for Hydra; they are Hydra.
The orcas are agents of the Other, as proposed by
Hiemdal in the Nephilim Codex, though very little of
the nature of that MCM is currently known. The owls
are Hydra. The walls in the alleys and the muttering
of madmen and the glyphs drawn in blood at the sites
of horrible murderers are Hydra. It’s everywhere. Every
time it’s used, witnessed, touched, or thought of, it
becomes a little more aware of its own existence. An
MCM is in all things at all times, it just doesn’t know it,
until those things light up.
The Monolith is a tunnel to another part of the uni-
verse where, supposedly, another MCM of a different
nature is up to who knows what. It is most certainly
alien in its nature and used what is now called the
Echo glyph to allow for transportation over unthinkable
distances. While Vector-kind is seeing the mere begin-
nings of Hydra’s influence, it’s entirely possible that on
the other side of that structure, half a universe away,
something similar has been going on for millennia. The
Nephilim are very much alive, but the nature of their
existence has not revealed itself. Transcendent im-
plants are only as safe as the conditions they’re placed
in, and the same implants that let normal people use
basic telekinetic powers can also let them rip people
apart if conditions change. This is hidden from the
public, as it may be the only asset Vector-kind has
when it comes time to face Hydra. Taln Hiemdal and
the final recursion are the reason the Whisper threat
now exists, but only by virtue of their ignorance. TTI
did know that the Echo implant was a lateral cuil shift
rather than a time machine. They kept it secret from
the Trust so they would not dwell on the dimensions
they abandoned to their fates each time they used it.
KICKSTARTER CREDITS Clayton Culwell
Cloak
Aaron Pothecary Clockworkfox
Abraham Brown Cole Mooneyes
Adam Boisvert Colton Smith
Addy Jade (Special Amenities Division) Cuddles
Alan Collister Curt Meyer
Alek Kerensky DVirensis
Alex Severino Damien Carey
Alexander Gudenau Daniel Foster
Alexander Hirschfeld Daniel Long
Allan Barbee Daniel T. Kulhanek
Allan Wheatley Daniels Skuja
AmazingAdrian Danyon Guthrie - Lewis
Amber Wyatt (Facility of Exo-Atmospheric Training) David E (Endean Point Station)
Amenephis David Felhoffer
Ampersand Tilde David P.
Andreas Loeckher David Weidtke
Andrew Brunet David Young
Andrew Murtha Dean Montavon (Euphoria’s Resolution)
Andrew Puddington DivNull Productions
Andrew Rawlings Doubleclick
Anthony DiGeorgio Draconican
Antony Cleghorn Dustin Bridges
ArchonUSN E_the_Weasel
ArkanumZilong Earl Scott Nicholson
Ashley Jade “Blaze” Wiles Ed Pegg
BL Eric “Alkane” Harding (Alder Station)
Blackpaw Eric Canapini
Blaise Simpson Eric Moffitt
Boing the Goat (Hawking station) Erin Sullivan
Brandon Petrosky Esel Caldwell
Brent Walters Evan
Brian Gilliam Fairdragoon
CHERRIER Gilles Felix Kroll
Caitlin Jane Hughes Feuerfell
Cardamom Flare Dark (Altrez Station)
Catprog Frank Mirza Nemati
Chad Denkhoff Furiia
Champ11 (Paradise, Las Vegas Nueva) G’lek
Chris Eliasen Gabriel
Chris Jahn Garrett Oakley (Reclamation Point)
Chris Larkin Garrett Walters
Chris Rysdale Giacomo Vicenzi
Christian Maier Glassan
Christina Settingiano Gray (Patchkit Palace)
Christopher Bo Zhang Greg Ellinger
Christopher Boss Gregor Kölbl (Han’Tsa-Kho’Ra Station)
Christopher Weber Guest 1747120327
Claudio Serena Guest 575497462
Hachemalum Loneclaw
Heros Romaines Luca Raven
Ian Bodimeade M. Nagara
Ian Hill Magentawolf
Ian T Whelan-Miller Marc-Dennis Horn
J.R. Sinke Marcus Foitzik
Jace Ellis Mark F. Anderson
Jacob Meier Mark Otto Peters
Jacob Smith Mark Tower
Jacob Meyers Marlfox
James “Snoob” Heath Marzolan
James Meredith Mathew Christoffels
Jamie Campbell Matthew
January_Silence Matthew
Jarred “That_Gamer_Scout” M. Matthew
Jeremy Johnson Matthew DeAngelo
Jeremy Marten Matthew Whitt
Jessa Hardinger McCrazy
Jim Hawn Michael Bley
Joe Saccente Michael Gallagher
Joel Hastings Michael Lim
Joel Kreissman Michael N
Joel Martinez Michael Smith
John Harlon Raisor Michael Stacy
John Pierce Mikael Assarsson
John Walker II (Horizon Watch) Mike
Jonathan M. Harris Mike Taylor
Jonathan Souza Mitchell D’Arcy
Jonathan Trautman Natani Reishka
Jonathan V NatashaX
Joseph Beckner Nathan Duncan
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Joshua Meredith Nicholas Barnett
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Jussi Myllyluoma Nicholas Giafis
KVet92 Nicholas Reardon
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Katarina Nick Roach
Kenneth Johnson Owen Wesley Kerschner
Kevin Heath Panuar
Kiernan Johnson Patrice Mermoud
Killian Lemus Paul Avis
Kimberly Paul Ignizio
Kio Pauli “Pave” Haarnimo “Mentman”
KjelKen Peter Baldwin
LX Phil Perry Tilos
Lance Hathaway Philip Reed
Leonceo Cemil (The Folly) Phillip Autry
Lila Christine Redden Phillip Robertson-Gregg
LimeBerry Phillip Sacramento
Phox Tamurello Ocello
Radio Free Deimos (Voltaire Station) Taylor Payne
RageTheMage (Bolt And Bolt Rivet Rig) Teron Gray
Rallye Timothy Jones
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For Peter (Amazon Station) Tomas B. C.
RemoteRyan Trevor
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Richard Tyler Puryear
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Rob Brail (Lennora Van’Phour Station) Victor Dimitroff
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Rusharn Wolfy Wet Furr (Dracoloup)
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Starcofski
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Tahril Kurom