NPCs

Elis died on Earth during the Fall, but a backup of her mind was transmitted off-world. She spent several years as an infugee in cold storage in the Jovian Republic before being revived and re-sleeved in a cheap synthetic morph, the cost of which she had to pay off by helping to build new habitats.

Elleggua appears as a wiry, mixed race boy in flowing red and black clothing.

You’re a corporate vampire from the Enceladan Glitter Bloc, a well-connected style maven whose services are absolutely essential to the image-conscious elites of the media world. You egocast constantly between Profunda, Extropia, and the big Martian cities. You’re ambivalent on the Martians’ politics, but they’re customers—and they never blink at what you charge.

You owe your life to ExoTech. You know it’s true; you’ve seen the bills. Now you work off your debt by containing threats to the public image. You and your team, primarily made up of your own forks, are tasked with tracking down and remediating any individuals or releases of technology which might reflect poorly on the corporation.

You’re one of the private magistrates whose jurisprudence and muscle keep the Extropian system of contract law working. Between the reputation you’ve made passing fair arbitrations and the credits you receive when a contract stipulates a percentage of damages or paying for an arbitrator, it’s a comfortable living.

Despite the failures of statist capitalism, you’re a die-hard believer in free markets—and when markets aren’t free, you have no qualms about undermining them.

Fiala favors power suits of expensive manufacture and cut. She wears whatever will make her look the most important and wealthy. Her morph is not only powerfully built but also has sculpted Scandinavian good looks

Field medics are concerned with getting to wounded individuals quickly and providing any necessary aid needed to stabilize the patient until they can be trans- ported to a healing vat.

Firewall agents are dedicated to investigating and countering x-risks. On occasion they may be called in to backup other sentinels.

It’s not science if you don’t get dirty. Neurolinguistic programming is the sort of work most people do in a lab with vat-grown brains, but you spend every moment you can in the eld, collecting data and chasing leads. For Firewall, you’re finding vulnerabilities in the transhuman cognitive architecture so they can shut down threats before they get started.

You’ve been around the system for a few turns. You followed the Lifeboat Institute as an adolescent before the Fall. When things went sour, you volunteered where you could to help stem the losses. You were one of the first recruited into Firewall. But, bit by bit, events have taken their toll on you. Now you do the jobs you wouldn’t wish anyone else to do: clean-up.

Your youth was spent in the dark and hungry first years of Nyhavn on Titan. Since then you’ve enjoyed the luxuries of life, and you’ve done what you can to help others enjoy them too. You believe there’s enough in the universe for everyone to live comfortably; a philosophy you fight for in your politics and business.

Be it social or financial, it’s capital that keeps the solar system spinning. In your previous life you made paupers into kings and ruled a nation through their pocketbooks. Since the Fall, you’ve decided to invest in something more permanent.

While you still have a fork predicting market shifts for the argonauts, this version of you is solving real-world problems, making people smile, and perhaps delaying the eradication of the species for a few more turns of the sun.

You’re a scanner; a professional data collector. When you started, you had to “hit the streets” to get a story. Now that sort of thing is for suckers. Limiting yourself to one brain, two eyes, and a corporeal existence just isn’t an efficient expenditure of time. Now you surf the cameras, the newsfeeds, the forums. Where there is no camera, you put one.

Before the Fall, you were a hacktivist, a member of Ano, and a reputation economy engineer. Apparently the folks at Galaxy missed that when they pulled your ego for an extended indentured servitude contract. It took you six months to get access to a farcaster and send an alpha fork to the outer system. You are that fork.

You’re a survivor first, a pragmatist second, a hero as a distant third. But somehow you found a career where surviving for the long-term frequently means dying in the near-term. There’s a satisfaction in salvation through suicide; a pattern you’ve been repeating since the Fall. Still, the suicide part you skip when you can through planning, experience, and a light step.

You’re a fanatical student of parkour. You view the inherent possibilities in a flexbot’s reconfigurable body as a way of moving your practice to the next level. You can already do tricks with your joints and body layout that people who’ve used flexbots for years can’t do. You’re a small, fast, weaving target in a fight, but you’re also good at staying hidden when needed.

Leclerc was one of the rst generation of successful avian uplifts and the first to become a commercial success as a fashion designer. After the Fall, Leclerc obtained a measure of success as an art critic in Elysium for several years.

In the poverty-stricken communities of Luna, Mars, and the inner system, gangs engaging in black market capitalism provide a safety net and support network for the desperate and dangerous. Often still clinging to pre- Fall ethnic and cultural af liations, many gangs adhere to a tribal identity with reinforced customs and rituals.