Andrew MacLaren
Andrew "Mac" MacLaren
| |
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Biographical Information | |
Aliases |
Mac |
Date of Birth |
July 12, 2002 (age in 2030: 28) |
Place of Birth |
Boston, MA |
Physical Description | |
Species | Human |
Gender | Male |
Height |
6'2" |
Weight |
185 lbs |
Hair Color |
Brown |
Eye Color |
Brown |
Skin Color |
Fair |
Family Information | |
Parents |
Brigid MacLaren, Douglas MacLaren (Deceased 2026) |
Siblings |
? |
Spouse |
None |
Children |
None |
Professional Life | |
Occupation |
Engineer, detective |
Affiliations | Spartan Technologies, Commonwealth City Police Department |
Born into a working-class family in South Boston, Andrew "Mac" MacLaren was always torn between two worlds: the world of possibility allowed by his natural intellect, and the world of practicality and responsibility as eldest son of a large, struggling family.
The public schools of his home district were woefully inadequate, but it was financially impossible for his family to provide greater opportunity. Much of his wealth of knowledge he garnered on his own, researching online and reverse engineering whatever he could come across, often to his parents' lament. His father never placed a high priority on his education, insisting that hard work was more important, most specifically whatever hard work needed to be done that day to keep the household running.
When he was offered a scholarship to MIT, he jumped at the chance, though his father resented the distance. They didn't separate well, which likely led to Mac engrossing himself in studies and living on-campus rather than staying home and working part-time to support the family. His MIT years were wild and free, and all too short.
After graduation, he figured he would get a comfortable job close to home and help out the family that way. His father scoffed at his offer, insisting that he'd made his bed already. So, when Spartan Technologies offered him a very lucrative opportunity off in Nevada, it was a lot easier to take it.
For a couple of years, he researched some very--almost suspiciously advanced technologies in a remote lab in the desert flats. His first task was just a test, to see if he could reverse engineer a technology they had already done, years prior. He did. By himself. In three weeks, he figured out what it took their teams years to do. And so, he passed.
They introduced him to a world of possibility, under the veil of the tightest security. They would not disclose exactly where this strange technology had come from, only that there was much to learn from it. For almost a year, he worked shoulder-to-shoulder with some of the finest scientific minds to be found on Earth, reverse Engineering strange, (mum's the word) alien technologies. And Spartan turned that research into profit.
And then he heard.
His father had died in the line of duty, and due to some ridiculous local politics, his family was not entitled to his pension. His life insurance was quickly eaten up by debts. Just like that, his family was impoverished.
With objections from his employer, he rushed home to help. He found that Boston had changed much from his youth. The government had sold out every public service--even the police force--to private corporations. His father had spoken out against the changes, and made powerful enemies well above his pay grade. Not only did he object to the privatization of security, but to all the new technology: observation drones, ubiquitous cameras, and some very controversial computer analysis programs that identified "high risk" individuals to be pre-screened against the possibility of crime.
And so much of that technology was built by Spartan.
Neither he nor his employer found the situation tenable. He terminated his employment, and they reminded him sternly that their secrets were to be kept in the utmost confidence...at any cost. The money he had saved would buy his family a little time, but he needed a new job, something local.
He hunted for jobs in his field, but found himself oddly stymied. Most employers had "heard things" about him that they didn't want to repeat, or explain where they heard them. The hunt wasn't going well, and he was beginning to suspect foul play. Indeed, in the interplay of politics and private mega-corps, he was starting to see all sorts of sinister connections.
Which inevitably led to a conversation one evening with his mother. She pointed out that yes, he was a brilliant engineer, but it was all a symptom of a gifted analytical mind, the same his father was known for. He saw connections in things--he saw how things were made, and how they could work better. And those skills could be used for more than just engineering...
Maybe it was the liquor, or the dozens of failed interviews, or something unknowable, but he was inspired. He would become part of the System. He would figure out why it destroyed his father, and why it was destroying his home city. He would fix it, from within.
A few weeks later, in Police Academy, he began to regret his decision, but the die was cast; his family needed his help, and he was following the only path open to him: the one his father had vacated.
After a few tedious years as a beat cop, he finally got his chance to really begin his quest. He earned his shield, and joined the Homicide unit in CCPD: the same unit, at least in spirit, that his father had served loyally for decades. The unit that would lead him to cases he never imagined were possible...