Paradigm: Tech Holds All the Answers
Practice: Hypertech
Instruments:

1. Computers/Tablets/Smartphones
2. Weapons
   
3. Electronic Devices and Machines
4. Virtual Reality/Augmented Reality
5. Glass/Reflective Surfaces
6. Artificial Intelligences/AI-equipped devices, vehicles, etc.
7. Nanotechnology
8. Robotics/Cybernetics
9. Fashion

Merits:

• Ambidextrous: Off-hand difficulty penalty is negated.
• Inner Strength: -2 Difficulty on Willpower rolls to overcome adversity.
• Master of Red Tape (4): -2 Difficulty on all rolls related to dealing with bureaucracy. He's spent five years immersed in Technocratic culture and having no contact with anybody outside of the Union. Even if he's not the most social person in the Union (not that that's saying a whole lot), he knows how the game is played, the right people to talk to, and the right asses to kiss.
• Mechanical Aptitude (1): -2 Difficulty on all rolls involving machinery. Examples include vehicles, industrial equipment, certain types of weapons, etc.
• Rising Star (3): -1 Difficulty on all rolls related to interactions with fellow Technocrats. Not always guaranteed to work; after all, success sometimes breeds resentment.
• Prestigious Mentor (1): -2 Difficulty to all Social Rolls made while invoking the name of his Mentor (see above), at least to those who know who his Mentor is. Alternatively, may provide +2 Difficulty to all Social Rolls if against an enemy or rival of his Mentor… unless said Mentor scares the ever-loving shit out of them.

Flaws:

1. Technobabble (1): Compulsively uses Technocrat and Void Engineer jargon and slang due to having spent the last 5 years beyond the Horizon, where he only had other Technocrats (mostly Void Engineers) for company. +1 or +2 difficulty to social rolls with non-Technocrats or the un-Enlightened Masses. This can possibly become beneficial in the form of -1 or -2 difficulty when speaking with other Technocrats, but only certain ones, such as those who encourage this kind of talk.
2. Rose-Colored Mirrorshades (2): The Technocracy (the Void Engineers in particular) can do no wrong as far as he's concerned. He's seen things in the Deep Universe that would give even the most unmutual of RDs nightmares. If the Technocracy cannot stop them from reaching the Mudball, then it's game over for humanity, Enlightened, RD, or otherwise. No price is too high, no risk too great. Leading to…
3. Special Responsibility (1): He readily volunteered when the NSC said they needed a new team on the Mudball for a unique Amalgam called the 'Gainesville Special Task Force.' Little did he realize what that actually meant! He has a longer leash than most by the standards of the Technocratic Union… at the cost of having regular 'psych evaluations' with the Descartes Institute of Mental Health, and possibly even the Ivory Tower of the New World Order.

Equipment:

• 1x Mirrorshades, VDAS-equipped
• 1x 'Men in Black' Black Suit, NSC Standard Issue
• 1x VDAS 2.0VE-equipped Mirrorshade lens
• 3x Nanite 'Gray Goo' Capsule
• 1x Modified Shenzhen Tianming 'Passport' (think iPhone, but developed by Shenzhen Tianming, a Syndicate consumer electronics company based in China; running custom Technocracy firmware)
• 1x Modified Shenzhen Tianming 'Housemate' (think Amazon Echo, but developed by Shenzhen Tianming; running custom Technocracy firmware designed to make orders from Syndicate companies easier)
• 1x earpiece
• 1x Biggs X5-R Protector, modular variant (see: Armory)
• 1x Occulus Hololens
• 1x Standard-issue Primium combat knife;; same benefits as a karambit, immune to magickal tampering

Contacts:

• 1. Dr. Eddie Bells: A Progenitor, and the public face of Geneficient Technologies, which is actually a front for the Progenitor Applied Science methodology, complete with a testing facility run by the A.I. known as 'DIæNA,' where experiments are routinely performed on Reality Deviants and EDEs deemed unsuitable for Social Processing. Jim gained her as a contact (for free!) when he saved her life, by deactivating a Threat Null suicide bomb.
• 2. Claire Weldon: The Supervisor of New World Order in Gainesville. Jim worked alongside her twice before gaining her as a Contact, and it's largely because of her taking note of his as-of-yet stellar record in the field that he gained the Rising Star merit. Claire specifically requested Jim act as a consultant from the Void Engineer's Neutralization Specialist Corps. for the Operatives when dealing with the Amkhat and the Fomori, both of which have clearly demonstrated traits typically associated with EDEs. As a result of this, he has a direct line of communication to her… so he'd better use it wisely.
• 3. Sandy Croaghan: A member of Syndicate's Media Division, and CEO of SynCro Records, the label that produces V.V.'s music. Considering V.V. their next flagship product, Sandy is grateful to Jim for ultimately being the reason she got her hands on V.V.'s material in the first place, and fully approves of their relationship.

Visual Data and Analysis Spectrum (VDAS) 2.0VE:
Enlightenment: 4
Primal Energy: N/A
Coincidental. Mirrorshade lens equipped with a heads-up display, allowing on-demand access (from a mental impulse) to a datacrawl of information from the Technocratic databases. Datacrawl runs across the bottom right-hand corner of the Enlightened Operative's peripheral vision. Cannot provide information on targets not already in the Technocracy's databases. WARNING: This pair of glasses is equipped with a tracking device, giving the Operative's location at all times, even when powered off. Be careful whom you're talking to, or where you spend your off-duty time…

This particular model was upgraded by the Void Engineers' R&E Division to be compatible with Dimensional Science procedures, activated with the press of a button on the left-hand side of the lens. This model comes with a micro-USB slot to allow for a wired connection to Technocratic databases. When jacked into the wired network, the difficulty becomes 5. Note that this does not work with wireless devices.
Roll: Enlightenment 4, difficulty 6 (coincidental)

Mk. III 'Voyager' Personal Simulation Matrix:
Enlightenment: 4
Spheres: Mind 3, Forces 2, Data 2
Primal Energy: 4
Coincidental when used in Technocratic Symposium, vulgar everywhere else. An older model of a personal simulator, but one still heavily in use by the Union due to its reliability, user-friendly interface, and ease of customization and modification. Shaped like a large cube roughly the size of a shoe box and with its surface covered in small projectors, the 'Voyager' is placed in the center of a room. When activated, the Voyager uses a combination of Mind, Forces, and Data to create a hyper-realistic simulation of any given scenario. Mind 'tricks' the mind into thinking the simulation is real (at higher difficulties, anyway; though, there's always a 'safe word' that ends a simulation early), Forces projects realistic holograms made from hard light, and Data maps the interior of the room, while also ensuring the user doesn't knock anything else over in the room, walks into walls, or otherwise hurts themselves.

Nanotech Skeleton Key:
Enlightenment: N/A (Gadget)
Spheres: Prime 3, Data 3, Matter 3, Entropy 1
Primal Energy: N/A (Quest Reward)
From the mind of Dr. Emmett Doyle comes the Nanotech Skeleton Key, a USB stick (with a built-in bottle opener!) made up of millions of tiny nanomachines. When pressed against a warded lock, the Gadget absorbs Primal Energy (bonus for negative resonance) which triggers the following mundane effect: The nanomachines disassemble to fill the lock and disengage the tumblers. The result is a key that can open (if fed a reasonable amount of energy) any chest, safe or door whether protected by a ward or normal electricity powered security system. NB: The key is optimum for mobile or minor wards but might not work on major wards to ST discretion (due to energy overload or lock complexity).

'Quantum Digital Space Theory':
Enlightenment: N/A (Principiae)
Spheres: Dimensional Science 5, Data 5
Paradigm: Tech Holds All the Answers
Acquired from the Black Shadow's sordid trophy collection. Belonged to a NWO Gold Badge Agent fallen in combat, officially passed on to Jim and Violet by Claire Weldon.

Counter Throw:
Directing an attacker’s momentum against him, the martial artist sends him flying into the nearest wall… or the ground… or worse. A basic soft-style maneuver, this remains an effective technique. When the martial artist is attacked, make a resisted roll of Dexterity + Martial Arts against the attacker’s Dexterity + Brawl, Melee, or Martial Arts (depending on the Ability that the opponent is using to attack). If you score more successes than your attacker does, then you deflect the attack and may – immediately and without having to divide up your dice pool – try to throw him (as below). If you fail the throw, you still sidestep his attack.
Minimum Ability: Martial Arts 1, Athletics 1 (soft style)
Roll: Dexterity + Martial Arts
Difficulty: 6
Damage: As Throw
Actions: 1

Snake Step:
Shifting away from the blow, our martial artist deftly sidesteps a close or ranged attack. Naturally, he must be able to see it coming first. A successful roll acts as a dodge attempt with an additional three-dice bonus.
Minimum Ability: Martial Arts 1 (any style), Athletics or Acrobatics 1
Roll: Dexterity + Martial Arts
Difficulty: hard 6/soft 5
Damage: N/A
Actions: 1

Deflecting Block:
Evading an attacker’s blow, the martial artist redirects the attacker’s force against her. In game terms, the defender rolls Dexterity + Martial Arts in Phase Two: Defense. Each success subtracts one success from the attacker’s roll. If the defender scores more successes than his attacker, then the attacker must roll Dexterity (difficulty 8) or else fall to the ground (or smash into a nearby surface), taking her own Strength in bashing damage.
Minimum Ability: Martial Arts 2 (soft style), Athletics or Acrobatics 2
Roll: Dexterity + Martial Arts
Difficulty: 6
Damage: Attacker’s Strength/B
Actions: 1

Spinning Kick:
Our martial artist spins around and plants a solid kick into the object of his attention.
Minimum Ability: Martial Arts 2 (hard style), Athletics or Acrobatics 2
Roll: Dexterity + Martial Arts
Difficulty: 6
Damage: Strength +3/B
Actions: 1

Death Strike:
Aiming a rigid hand at an organ, joint, or other incapacitating location, the attacker directs devastatingforce at that target. This strike inflicts lethal damage.
Minimum Ability: Martial Arts 3 (hard style)
Roll: Dexterity + Martial Arts Difficulty: 5
Damage: Strength +2/L
Actions: 1

Thunder Kick
A devastating flying kick. Hurling himself through the air, the martial artist focuses his chi and mass into a strike potent enough to end most fights immediately. In game terms, each success adds one additional die to the kick’s damage. A character cannot use the Thunder Kick more than once every five turns, however, as it demands intense focus and commitment to the blow.
Minimum Ability: Martial Arts (hard style) 3, Athletics or Acrobatics 2
Roll: Dexterity + Martial Arts Difficulty: 7
Damage: Strength +3 + successes/B
Actions: 1

James 'Jim' Mathers was born in Brooklyn in the year 1989, a walking paradox from the moment he was old enough to understand what those flying things coming in and out of Reagan International were, and old enough to catch Star Trek reruns on TV. To him, they were one and the same: Giant, cool, flying objects. And he wanted to fly one.

Throughout his pre-universiy schooling years, he was simultaneously an athlete and a nerd. He knew he wanted to join the Air Force, just like his grandfather who flew over Korea in the Korean War. He dreamed of one day going to space, and believed that if he proved himself to be a good enough pilot, he may one day become an astronaut and go to space.

Unfortunately, the book-learning required to be an astronaut flew right over his head. By the time he was in high school, he was playing flight simulations on his computer, and he was damned good at them. But mechanics? Astrophysics? Jim was a kid from Brooklyn, not an MIT grad. Flying a plane and sticking the landing every time is one thing. Neil DeGrasse Tyson, he is not.

Upon graduating from high school, he immediately enrolled at the Air Force academy, hoping that they'd be able to teach him what he needed to know… and that it would stick. His father gave him his grandfather's watch as a graduation present. It was the same watch he wore while flying a B-20 over North Korea. Jim never took it off after that.

As he went through basic training and flight school, he learned three things immediately: First, that the combat and flight portions of training came naturally to him. He was raised in Brooklyn; he'd been in more than his fair share of fights, and had the scars to prove it, and to him, flying came as naturally as driving does to a NASCAR driver. Second, that while he may know the controls of a plane or helicopter like the back of his hand and understand air currents, velocity, and everything else related to flying, he couldn't actually repair and maintain the plane for shit. (Thankfully, that's not the pilot's job in the Air Force.) And last? That he was probably never going to space. He met the people who had real shots at being an astronaut at the USAF Academy, and they were damned geniuses.

But that only made him more determined to prove himself. Still indulging his love for cheesy 1980s Sci-fi movies, he made it a hobby to replicate maneuvers seen on shows, just to prove that they were possible. His teachers told him he was going to get himself killed (and wreck one of their several-millions-of-dollars fighter jets in the process), but secretly, they were impressed that he could pull it off.

Until he stated that he was going to perform the Herbst Maneuver and pull right into Kulbit before the maneuver was complete. Several commanders knew Jim; they knew he was serious, and that he would get himself killed if he got behind the controls of a jet again. Jim even ran the numbers himself, proving that it was possible, at least to him. The engineers who overlooked and maintained the planes still insisted that his numbers proved nothing, and that the laws of physics themselves would rip the engine to shreds and he'd probably die if he pushed the jet that hard.

He was grounded for a month before Lockheed came calling and asked for one of their best pilots to take one of their newest designs for a test flight. They tried to disallow Jim from flying, but Lockheed insisted, and they had too many friends in Washington to say no to them.

And so, behind the controls of the modified Blackbird he went. The perfect plane to do the 'Mathers Move' he wanted to prove was possible. “Don't even fucking think about it, Cadet,” his CO said in his ears as he got into the cockpit and pulled on the oxygen mask. Three, two, one, go.

He went through the motions as described for him in the requirements for the test flight.

“This is a bad idea.” A voice in his ear suddenly said. It wasn't any voice he'd heard before.

“Shut up,” Jim replied. The voice didn't respond with protest. Instead it began… singing.

“Let's fly, fly, let's fly. They don't see us, they can't stop us. So take my hand and fly.”

Jim hit the thrusters and brought the plane into a ninety-degree climb. The singing continued. It was… beautiful. Maybe a bit autotuned, but beautiful. He grit his teeth behind the oxygen mask, pulled back on the controls into a backflip, and…

Applause. The cockput of the plane opened. “That was incredible!” the Lockheed representatives said, running up to him as he climbed out of the cockpit. He could see his CO. His expression indicated that he didn't know whether to be angry or amazed. “I've never seen anything like that! How did you do it!?” the engineers said, as another looked over the plane. “And not a mark on it… my God, what kind of a pilot are you?”

There were others present. One man in an all black suit with black sunglasses, and another woman in a white labcoat worn over some kind of miliary uniform. Jim made eye contact with both of them. The man in black remained impassive, but the woman smiled, and winked.

No matter how many people he asked over the following week, nobody would fess up to singing to him over the radio. Some people asked him if he was hearing things, or if he was joking. And so it continued, until Jim went to sleep, one week after the maneuver.

“Vital signs stable. Administering resuscitation.” “Mathers? Mathers, can you hear me?” “BP holding steady, monitors show normal brain patterns. It looks like it was a success.” “Mathers?”

Jim's eyes opened. People in white labcoats stood over him, and he appeared to be on an operating table. He tried to sit up, quickly, but restraints held him down. “Woah, there. Easy.” An elderly man wearing a surgical mask said. He tried to smile behind his mask, but it was barely visible. “Slow down. You're going to want to conserve your energy.”

“Who the fuck are you people!?” Jim demanded, and one of the guards near the door seemed ready to approach with a syringe. The doctor raised a hand, and the guard stopped. “I understand you're probably a bit shaken. I was too when I first woke up here. But listen, we're your friends. You just need to take a deep breath, calm down, and I promise, you'll like what we have to say. My name is Doctor Simon Flannery. You're at the Copernicus Research Station, Halley Academy. Specifically, this is the medbay.”

“Copernicus? Never heard of no Copernicus. Who are you? CIA? I didn't sign up to be a spook.” Flannery laughed. “Let me show you something.” Flannery reached up, and seemed to press down on a part of his temple. His skull opened up on the side, and a small projector popped out. Jim's breath caught in his throat as the projector began producing a holographic image. It was the Blackbird. The same plane he performed the Mathers Move in. “We've been following your progress since you were first accepted to the Academy,” Flannery declared. “You're good. Really good. Quantum Probability Analysis predicted a 99.97% chance of you becoming Enlightened if you could pull that move off, and you did.”

“Enlightened? Quantum what?” Jim stammered, his eyes still refusing to believe the sight of a man projecting something out of his skull.

“You'll understand soon enough.” Flannery replied. “Nurse, help me get him in a wheelchair.”

They wheeled him down the metallic hallways. LED lights blinked as he passed, and Jim believed he had to be on some kind of ship, though the kind that floats on the seas, not in space. People in strange uniforms passed; some in white labcoats, others in some kind of military get up he didn't recognized. Few looked at him, but those that do tried to smile politely. They went into an elevator of sorts, and Flannery typed a few buttons. 'OBSERVATION DECK,' a computerized voice said. He didn't even feel the elevator move for more than a few seconds before they stepped out again.

The sight from the giant windows nearly made Jim faint. Space. A giant star, way too close for comfort, orbited by small planetoids and space stations, along with two massive laser beams turning the star into a torus. He could see the other end of the Cop's Dyson Sphere behind the star, but it hurt to look at it directly, even if the glass here was specially treated so that everyone inside didn't go blind. He felt Flannery's hands on his shoulders behind him, as he leaned down. “Welcome to the Void Engineers, Cadet,” he said quietly.

Three years passed. Halley Academy was unlike anything he'd ever experienced at the Air Force academy. When he hopped into his first Void Engine simulation, learning to fly a literal spaceship(!), the simulation was so real and so intense that he didn't even realize it WAS a simulation until afterward. He aced his first flight test, and soon enough he was practicing with more experienced pilots, testing out a new simulation program developed by an MIT grad his own age.

As he got into the simulator for the first time and activated the VR programs, Jim put on the headset meant to communiate with other members of his squadron. “Foxtrot Nine, online,” Jim said into the headset, expecting to hear the other pilots' call signs.

Nothing.

“Foxtrot Nine, online,” he tried to say again. nothing. “Is this thing even on?”

Two small chimes dinged in his hears. “Ready to fly, Captain?” a familiar voice asked. Jim would have jumped in his seat if he hadn't been strapped in.

“You!?” Jim asked. “You–… where are you?”

“I'm your C.O.P.I.L.O.T. Where are we going today?”

Jim didn't ask. Among the mind-blowingly amazing things he's seen since he woke up on the Cop, this was among the least strange, and actually a pleasant change of pace. He just nodded, and began the simulation.

Top score. And he literally did fly circles around one of his fellow cadets.

But it wasn't until he got into his first dogfights with EDEs that he began to realize just why everyone at the Cop seemed like stepford smilers. The horrors beyond the Horizon were out of Jim's worst nightmares. He quickly learned not to form too many friends, especially not his own squadron, because there was a good chance that he or they may not come back. Jim often found himself wishing he could find the source of the voice that spoke to him during his Enlightening, but she never appeared, no matter how much shore time he had on the Cop.

Upon his graduation from the Academy, Jim was assigned to the BCD. He quickly learned to make nice with the folks from the Void Engineers' liaisons with the New World Order's Q Branch; they were less likely to die in a dogfight (because they didn't take part in them at all), and being friendly with them often meant they could pull favors whenever he had to make a requisitions request. Even if it was the Supervisors calling the shots with what could or couldn't be taken out into the field, being personally familiar with Q Branch representatives meant that they could make 'recommendations' to the Supervisors, and the Supervisors were far more likely to listen to them than to an overzealous rookie straight from Halley Academy, supposed 'ace pilot' or not.

And so it continued, until the order came from on-high. He was being reassigned to the NSC, to a special, classified top-secret Symposium on the Mudball, based out of Gainesville, Florida. “You're kidding!” Jim protested, a rare show of emotion. “I'm the best Voidcraft pilot you have, and you want me on the Mudball!?”

His supervisor frowned. “I don't like it either,” he confessed. “But this one's out of my hands. Just try not to complain when you get down there. They don't have the kind of patience I do.” Jim groaned, and began packing his thing. It was his first time in earth's gravity in years. The shuttlecraft ripped through the atmosphere, and was escorted to the Gainesville Dispatch Center, where he met his new CEO: Sergeant Duford, NSC.

It took a lot of getting used to; Duford even had the harebrained idea of taking RDs into space to secure a Construct, and forming a communique with the local RD Chantry. He'd never met Traditionalist Mages, but he'd heard everything he needed to hear about them, and none of it was pleasant. He began to miss the Cop, even missing the games he played in dogfights, flying circles around EDEs until he could vaporize them with a single shot at just the perfect weak point.

That is, until one day, he heard one of the Masses in a passing car playing a radio station, and a familiar phrase came through in the song lyrics…