Texlinz

Some companies are remarkably effective at covering up shady pasts. Texlinz is one of them. Formed in Lima well before the Talinz unit was even a twinkle in its mother’s eye, Texlinz (Originally TexLima), was a robotics research unit themselves. The company itself had originally applied for the UN Development commission grant that would eventually result in the frames. It had a remarkable pedigree; having already performed a lot of important groundwork in the field of computational neuroscience, and was pulling in large amounts of money from the Peruvian Government at the time for the construction of an Artificial Neural Network to monitor the El Niño. It was, however, deemed that a private company was unsuitable to spearhead the project.

In the wake of the Talinz Project’s completion, rather than attempt to introduce a competing model, the company adapted fast, eating up as many subsidies as possible, using the profits to fund their own research into more esoteric fields. Their huge South American production base turned the newly rebranded Texlinz into the largest manufacturer of Talinz frames within three years. In a rather cynical riposte to the research councils who had denied them, Texlinz had managed to attain an immense share of the market without having to spend any of their own money on research and development.

In the meantime, the more esoteric fields would prove to be remarkably useful in the production and advertising of their own frames. Talinz units that could pick up and process substantially larger sensory inputs than competitors, those that could react much faster than their peers, even those that could be used in orbital networks were all quickly released into the world by Texlinz. They were among the first to contract with government military and police forces also, gaining a reputation for efficient, robust systems with few points of failure. It would be these latter contracts that would become Texlinz main source of income, and much of their research and development budget was funnelled into advanced team protocols, attempting to create Talinz that could best a human pilot in combat unassisted, or multiple units linked to a single ‘vanguard’ pilot, reducing manpower costs to allow the fielding of ever larger forces as the wars escalated.

The Baku treaty ended up being nothing more than a bump in the shares of the company, too. Using the programming developed from years of military hardware, they quickly co-opted them to aid fisheries, using colonial ‘net’ frames that corralled and caught fish for them. The singular ‘vanguard’ systems quickly saw use in the construction industry, speeding up the process of rebuilding after the war. Reconstructing buildings their own products had damaged, it seemed as if Texlinz had engineered the entire thing themselves. At the very least, they seemed to be well ahead of the curve when it came to adapting to the new environment.

Texlinz were one of the founders of the sport of Talinz fighting, and were instrumental in the frames public redemption in the post-war era. To this day, they still sponsor the largest tournmanet in South America, the continent-wide Andes cup, and its bigger brother, the invitational All-Americas cup. Repeated investment in local industry now makes Texlinz one of the major employers in South America, with a respectable record and a well-treated workforce that, despite all of their advances, is still primarily human. In part, it seems that these workers act as a useful bargaining chip for Texlinz when prospecting future expansions in the continent. Few governments are likely to challenge a business that would lose little by upping and leaving your country, or autonomising a sizable sector of your economy.

Key to the success of Texlinz, it has constantly been believed, is the existence of ‘The Board’. Rather than any single influential or charismatic individual, Texlinz has a reputation for elevating talented members of staff through the ranks until they sit at the pinnacle of the organisation. One of the current board, it is rumoured, even started his career on the factory floor in Rio, before being scouted for his discerning eye. Not only does this give their employees a goal and a motivation, but these conglomerate committee-led opinions give an undoubted strength to the company. How much of the rumour that surrounds ‘The Board’ is true is uncertain, and many urban legends are clearly wild and unfounded: including suggestions that they might be early experiments in artificial intelligence by TexLima gone rogue.

Statting 'The Board'

So, 'The Board' of Texlinz I have explicitly avoided giving stats. They are shady, they are shadowy, and they are hella competent. Depending on the political/social/economic system at hand, they should provide an interesting ally or opposition. Rather than individuals with stat lines, I would almost recommend GMs consider them to be opposition in the scene in the same way a natural force might be. They have a tendency to push situations in their favour, and you are only likely to encounter well-informed delegates of 'The Board'. Or they might actually be Board members themselves... Who knows?

In exchange, have some mechanics about how their communal Talinz technology works!

"When a Talinz frame fitted with the Aspect 'Vanguard module' is piloted, it can interface with local unpiloted units that also possess the module and exist on the same 'Vanguard' call frequency. These units are networked, utilising the group's combined processing power. They can utilise any skill bonuses granted by the AI cores of any unit in the network as if they were their own. The unit gains an additional +1 bonus when it combines skill to act as a team (Note that skills given to units by other members of the network do not count as actually possessing the skill at above +1 for the purposes of the Teamwork action). Unpiloted units are considered allies for the purposes of stress track and actions, with a single stress box for each member of the unit."

Talinz in Daily Life: Industry

After a short break for Christmas and the New Year, I'd like to welcome in 2014 with the first in a new series (Which when the compiled PDF is finished will be a new chapter, I hope) on Talinz in Daily Life. We start with industry:

Much more than just sport, Talinz permeate everyday life, and affect the way people interact with each other and with society. These frames tend to be offered in two general formats: those for domestic use, and those for industrial use. Their jobs vary widely within these two very broad clades, and they are present in every economic sector, for better or worse.

Industrial Frames

Robotics is a major part of heavy industry, and it is in this role that Talinz frames are perhaps considered most iconic. Bulky, robust frames are often used for heavy lifting and large-scale construction, whilst smaller frames clamber through production lines adjusting fine electronics, and soldering together smaller pieces.

Outside of this, Talinz are used as crop dusters and harvesters in agriculture; for extraction, crushing, sieving and transportation in mining and quarrying; for synthesis of dangerous chemicals, and to help produce energy in power plants, along with many more tasks elsewhere. Often, specialist frames will be built fit to purpose. South American robotics giants Texlinz, for example, have constructed a frame that closely associates with others of its type to form a ‘swarm net’ to enable more efficient, Talinz-powered fishing. These units tend to become very heavily reliant on each other during their work, and robopsychologists have suggested they may even experience a sense of grief when a member of the swarm is terminated, even after the basic personality files of the frames were prevented from developing a capacity for sorrow.

The use of Talinz frames in industry has exploded massively largely due to one thing. With an entirely Talinz-powered factory, one only needs to employ a small number of engineers in case of breakdown, and a foreman to supervise the work. Workforce maintenance costs drop through the floor, as there are no legal requirements to grant Talinz a wage, breaks, or holiday. Companies obtain the units either by purchasing direct from a manufacturer, or through part time letting deals of the unit from its owners, and so in some cases do not even need to provide shelter and charging ports for the units they utilise.

Whilst many units in industry tend to have very basic, blank personality files at first – being intentionally designed to be as boring and bland as possible in order to eliminate possible workplace fracas – the adaptability of the Talinz system often confounds attempts to make an unthinking, unfeeling workforce. All too often, the experiences and engagements of the frame with human staff and other units in the facility will affect it as an individual, causing it to form views and opinions that it might not otherwise have. Ones that might be detrimental to productivity. One of the most difficult jobs of the small human workforce is that of calling in the ‘Wipers’. Wipers are groups of outside engineers who specialise in removing any aberrant traits from industrial Talinz frames and returning them to a clean factory default, without affecting the associated experience files (Which might necessitate the purchase and downloading of expensive training packages or of lapses in the individual’s memory that might inconvenience work). Engineers within the workforce at an individual company could feasibly perform the task, but management often worries about individuals becoming too attached to individual units, and overlooking this in their judgement. Large companies might employ a wiping department, whilst smaller firms may call in private contractors.

Increased production and adoption of industrial Talinz, however, has had a major negative side effect on the humans who have now found their jobs usurped by an ever growing robotic population. Outsourced and outperformed, many of these individuals have understandably become dissatisfied with the system. Governments have scrambled to counter the rising unemployment, though different countries have approached the problem in different ways. Some have granted subsidies and tax rebates to companies that employ a higher percentage of human staff, some have introduced retraining and back to work programmes to encourage education later in life, whilst others still have set back and let the market take its course.

Disenfranchised individuals have not been silent, however. In less stable areas, protests turn to riots, and hushed talk in the back rooms of houses and meeting halls become political movements, or robotics sabotage. Assaults against the few remaining Talinz engineers at large companies are on the rise, to the point that some police departments have considered grouping these Talinz-motivated crimes as a category all of their own.

Most notable among these groups is the Grey Hand. Originally, this small internet forum was an area for those concerned about the effect military Talinz were having on the human consciousness and perception of violence. Since the Baku treaty, however, their membership has transformed into a substantially more zealous, and more numerous anti-Talinz front. This loosely-organised global network has been branded as champion by some, terrorist by others. What none can deny however, are their effectiveness. Although cells have been located and arrested, new bubbles seem to pop up out of nowhere, infiltrating both Talinz factories and houses of prominent individuals in the industry, and causing mayhem of levels varying from knowing notes left on desks, through to full-scale bombings of important warehouses. The Grey Hand is dangerous, whether one were to agree with them or not. Considerable pressure on governments from corporations in more affected areas has led to considerations of curfews, anti-social behaviour laws, and internet monitoring.

Some claim it is unwarranted escalation. Some claim it is a necessary evil.

Hana Electrics

Some companies have a difficult time adapting to new markets, and in the aftermath of the Talinz war, Hana Electrics was one. A primary military contractor during the war, Japan’s neutrality turned the country into an island bastion against a ravaged world. Hana used the safe haven as an excuse to sell arms to both sides.

In the wake of the Baku Treaty, the company collapsed in on itself. Their massive expansion required governments that were willing to pay billions out in defence contracts, and with demand severed overnight, it was unsustainable. Hana was never part of the conclave that founded the Talinz fighting league, and whilst they stabilised around a small collection of factories in and around Sendai and Yamagata, they looked set to forever be minor players, a footnote in history.

Frequent poor business decisions plagued the company for the following years. It seemed as if misfortune followed the board of directors, for every time they committed to a project, diversified into a new market or embarked on new research, the market would fall though, the project would break down, and research labs would suffer some catastrophe or another. It made those in charge of the company quite rightly rather paranoid.

When Wakahisa Hikari took over the company from her father, she made it very clear what she thought was wrong. They had tried to follow market trends, and only caught on when the bubbles burst. To succeed, they would need to forge new ground. To start, they would begin to manufacture domestic servants. Talinz with the sole purpose of serving a home. Completely loyal and perfectly designed to cook, clean, remember important family dates and take children to school. Hana would become a family company. A name you could trust. The genius was really in the price, though. Cheap enough to be considered affordable by the middle class, expensive enough that a family would want to show it off to their neighbours. Butlers and maids for a new generation, the perfect status symbol.

At the same time, to pad sales, they would sell unassembled Talinz frames. Japan especially was nurturing a growing Talinz fandom. Distribute frames to schools at cheap prices to teach children electrical engineering, and advertise the robustness and reliability of Hana products at the same time. Distribute parts to the electrical shops in Akihabara and elsewhere for adult fanatics that wanted to take apart and rebuild their own units from scratch, rather than merely fit more modular parts to their frames. Considering the money saved in labour due to the lack of assembly, profits skyrocketed.

It wasn’t long, too, before publishers and producers began to approach Hana Electrics. A recent trend had begun to emerge amongst the general public. Individuals were writing personality files for Talinz with the aim of making them behave like fictional characters they were particularly invested in. For publishers and producers, this usage of their copyrighted material was, they viewed, a lost attempt to monetise. Hana leapt on the offer and began to accept contracts to license and manufacture frames with parts specifically designed for the appearance and behaviour of popular figures from television and literature. Research budgets were diverted towards making frames that looked as realistic as possible. Skin-like polymers were patented by the company that blurred the line between robot and human.

This gave them another idea. Approaching diplomats and dignitaries at first, and never openly, Han Electrics gave them an option. When such important political figures were so frequently at risk, why not build an imposter that they could pilot remotely? The Kagemusha series was born.

By the time Wakahisa Hikari retired two years ago, passing the company to her daughter Wakahisa Jun, she had turned two factories in the north of Japan into one of the most profitable institutions on the planet.

Wakahisa Jun, the current CEO of Hana Electrics is notable for one thing only, currently. Her legion of 102 Kagemusha. It has been suggested, perhaps, that nobody has truly seen her face at all, and there are certainly no documented pictures of her past a family holiday at the age of 8 that could ever be confirmed as Jun. If Jun does exist, however, the only legacy that she is likely to pass on is one of consolidating her mother’s power. Few people know what Wakahisa Jun can do, or, indeed, if she is even still a person…

In the stat blocks below, I have given one for Jun, and one for Jun’s Kagemusha. If you want that in your game, Jun prime is a Talinz frame herself, or maybe she never shows her face for another reason, that is awesome. Tell me more about it!

        

Wakahisa Jun, CEO of Hana Electrics
High Concept: Stone-faced, distant delegator
Aspect: I must step out of my mother’s shadow
Skills: Great (+4) Insightful, Good (+3) Intimidation, Fair (+2) Willpower, Average (+1) Popular culture
Stunts: Best for the job: Whenever you make an Insightful check to ascertain somebody’s capabilities, you gain a +2 to the roll, and automatically learn one of their most proficient skills.

Wakahisa Jun, Talinz replicant (The / designates the differences between model specifics. They tend to be equipped for purpose)
High concept: Flawless Kagemusha
Aspects: No sense of self
Skills: Great (+4) Willpower, Good(+3) Notice/Fight, Fair(+2) Notice/Fight, Average (+1) Endurance
Stunts: Only the mistress matters: Attempts to coerce the Jun replicant series to act in a way that would be injurious to Wakahisa Jun’s reputation or existence are unthinkable to them. If such coercion is attempted, even if the replicant’s own existence is threatened, they gain a +2 bonus to any Willpower rolls.

Aswegen and Modise

Talinz frames for the discerning customer

Some companies were founded in the opening days of the Talinz funding, some were founded as war wracked the world. Some were founded substantially after, when gaps in the market started to appear. Aswegen and Modise were one of those companies. In a recovering market, two enterprising university engineers saw a gap. Both Aswegen and Modise were students at Johannesburg University when they realised something that would make them rather fantastically rich.

Much of their peer group was implausibly wealthy, and young. They didn’t want to associate with the established brands, which either had black marks against their names for their war involvement, or worse still were ‘unhip’. What these rich kids needed was a brand that stood for them. Something new, vibrant, luxurious, and exuberantly expensive. Aswegen was an electrical engineer, and Modise a computer scientist. They had the means, now all they needed was the money.

The first Aswegen and Modise stand was a website hosted on the campus intranet. Modise had managed to convince some of his lecturers to rent out some space on the server, and they advertised themselves as customisers, rather than creators. They knew enough about how the Talinz frames worked from lectures to modify parts, if not make them themselves. The drive to feel unique among young people was large, and the two entrepreneurs took advantage of it. Word of mouth, stands at university events and a small on-campus advertising campaign helped launch the pair’s idea as a business venture, rather than a spare time project. Once they had graduated, a few of their more advantaged customers helped spread the word.

The customisers eventually managed to get a small factory. Their production numbers weren’t the best, but that was part of the point. Each of their frames came ‘hand-made, crafted, designed’ and with a nigh-extortionate price tag. But quiet product placement as domicile servants and accessories to a few key stars, and a few surprisingly placed paparazzi shots of their models with the stars helped catapult profits.

In the modern day, Aswegen and Modise are struggling with trying to retain their ‘street cred’ whilst breaking into the mainstream market. The pair still design models themselves to distribute to key personalities, and they have recently found that producing lower quality frames that look similar to their more expensive designer frames works well as a business model. Far from everyone wanting to be unique, Aswegen and Modise have learnt that everyone really wants to be just like their idols. Their involvement in Talinz fighting is brief and aloof. The media personalities the pair prefer to target appear are filmstars, musicians, and the like, to keep with their ‘alternative’ image. But every now and then an individual will arise using an A and M frame, and the company will bombard them with requests and investment. It can be really quite rewarding to be one of their five or so poster pilots in the world…

Character Profiles

Below I have included the character profiles for Answegen and Modise. All the NPCs have a high concept and another aspect, a set of skills, and one stunt, but feel free to expand them beyond that skeleton if you want, and indeed, tell me how you made those profiles bigger in your games, I’m intrigued.

Jann Aswegen, Co-founder of Aswegen and Modise
High Concept: Haute Couture Electrical Engineer
Aspect: Enterprising risk-taker
Skills: Great (+4) Robotics Engineer, Good (+3) Education, Fair (+2) Commerce, Average (+1) Tae-kwon-do
Stunts: I am the 11^th principle of good design: When Jann talks about the work that he puts in to each and every Talinz model they make, people are drawn in by his knowledge of how to make a design that people will buy. He has an education specialisation(+2) in Fashion and Design.

Emmanuel Modise, Co-founder of Aswegen and Modise
High Concept: Bohemian Computer Expert
Aspect: Social Media Afficionado
Skills: Great (+4) Computer programmer, Good (+3) Empathy, Fair (+2) Popular culture, Average (+1)  Charming
Stunts: Always do the research: Whenever Emmanuel has done research on an individual beforehand (Which will normally consist of pretty effectively trawling through both human and online sources for all information on them around), he gains a +2 bonus to overcome any social obstacles with regards to them.