Cyberneticist searching for Ancient technology that can be melded with modern cybernetic augmentation.


Age: 34

Homeworld: Glisten Highport (Rich, Vacuum)


  • Agent (Corporate / 2 / Field Agent)
  • Scholar (Scientist / 2 / no rank title)

UPP 797C74


  • Str [d7]
  • Dex [d9]
  • End [d7]
  • Int [d12]
  • Edu [d7]
  • Soc [d4]


  • Ethical Accounting Algorithm [d8]
  • Expert System [d12]
  • Partig’s Missing Time Is On My Side [d8]


  • Admin [d6]
  • Athletics [d4]
    • coordination [d6]
  • Carouse [d4]
  • Comms [d4]
  • Computers [d8]
  • Deception [d6]
  • Drive [d4]
    • wheeled [d6]
  • Gun Combat [d4]
    • slug pistols [d6]
  • Investigate [d6]
  • Language [d4]
  • Life Sciences [d4]
    • cybernetics [d8]
  • Physical Sciences [d4]
    • electronics [d6]
  • Recon [d4]
  • Streetwise [d6]
  • Vacc Suit [d4]

Credit: [d4]


  • Augments
    • wafer jack [d6] (TL13)
    • enhanced vision [d6] (binocular,IR,light intensifying) (TL13, cybernetic eyes)
  • Weapons
    • gauss pistol [d6] (40 shot mag, .5kg)
  • Armour
    • cloth [d6] (TL10, 1kg)
  • Software
    • translator [d4]
    • security [d6]
    • intrusion [d6]
    • social sciences [d6] (archeology)
  • Other
    • commcomp [d4] (TL12, .5kg)

I no longer remember if I’m an orphan or if my parents abandoned me. Life as a starport rat, well, it’s not glamorous. Living in ventilation shafts, stealing food and anything else you can get your hands on when nobody is looking. Trying to avoid pimps, dealers, and wasted spacers. There are faster and less pitiful ways to die, no doubt.

Things changed when I tried to lift from the wrong tourist. He was… He wasn’t a kind man, but he took me in, made sure I was taken care of, and gave me a chance at something better than the misery I had known. Through his connections, and his discipline, I moved into the ranks of the corporate elite.

Spy, saboteur, I was what the company needed me to be. If they asked, I did it, cause that’s what agents do. I was good, and being good means you get rewarded. They slapped in a jack and some shiny new baby blues. Cyber blues. That’s what they call the headaches and the dreams that belong to someone, some thing ,else.

I dropped out of the game and went underground. Got an advanced crash course in cybernetics, electronics, computers. Anything that might give me an edge against the pain and growing hysteria of massive information overload. As I learned I made modifications, tweaks and adjustments. Synchronized my flow. The blues becames not so bad anymore. Back in control.

A lot of folks had a keen interest in some of the things I’d learned. I wouldn’t say I made friends, but I made contacts. Worked closely with one particular Marquis. Well, Ex-Marquis now.
We all back the wrong horse eventually. But I guess that’s a story for another time.


Frontier Trader Lilith CJEdwards