You da best, Fence!
Join the Colonial Corps of Fabricators, they said. It’s the military lite. No fighting, just programing. Getting nanobots to make specialized parts. A pretty kushy gig, they said.
And for four Terran cycles, it pretty much was. Being stationed on the under developed outpost planet of Rebus XI was almost like getting sent to a desert island paradise. Deep within Colonial territory, it was right next to a wormhole relay hub, & only recently on the up & up as a tourist destination. There never seemed like any chance of the fight coming to them. But it did.
It was quick & brutal, blitzkrieged by an unknown alien force. Word amongst the survivors is they took over the relay hub first & then the Rebus system, putting a choke hold on the whole supply line. Now it’s up to the Colonial Corps of Fabricators to turn their nanomachines into weapons & become a resistance. Stranded light years away from reinforcements, their only option is to fight.
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Both this & the next were ones I started drawing without a premise & developed one as I drew. For him, I opted for blue camo, not out of an urban setting but thinking instead of photosynthetic plantlife, the planet he’s stationed on is filled with cyanobacteria. I don’t know why he’s got the note pad thing happening on his left leg given he’s got a super computer built into that gauntlet he’s got. I assume the lens on the back of his hands shoots holograms that he uses to control nanobots.
Dr. Henrik Sonnenberg, while quite wealthy, was what you might call… eccentric. Founder of the no way ominous sounding Sonnenberg Group, he was always a big idea guy. Like when he first started floating around the idea of sticking a maximum security prison at the bottom of the ocean. Everyone questioned the practicality. But they built it. Benthomax, the largest private prison on Earth. When they couldn’t fully staff the facility, it was Dr. Sonnenberg who brought up the idea of genetically engineering the rest of the staff. With more issues of practicality & now morality being brought up, the company kept it on the down low that these creations were in fact spliced with deep sea DNA. It was a twofer. A security workforce that also functioned as an experiment in hybridization.
That was five years ago, & this is Benny Angles. He works the commissary. He got his name not through being part Anglerfish (though it didn’t hurt), but by always working the angles. As a vat grown creature, he may look like an adult but he’s still developing mentally, & at a very formidable age. Spending all his time around dangerous felons has had its effect & he’s developed quite the colorful persona. He enjoys his work at the commissary. For a price, he’ll get you whatever it is you need. He has his ways.
Word has it around the prison that his fellow hybrids are starting to get fed up with taking orders from genetically inferior humans on the surface. There’s talk about a revolution. At his core, Benny writes it all off as self-righteous horseshit. He likes the status quo, he likes his gig. A revolt could ruin that. That said, he’ll of course do his thing & work the angles, so long as it all works out for him.
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I made him big & tall because I figured the deep sea part of his genes would be anticipating a lot of pressure, only to grow like a beanstalk without it. Stupid me though, the thing around his neck is supposed to be a mist spraying thing so he gets some water vapor in his lungs. And what do I do? Stick a giant cigar in his mouth. Yeah, way to go. That makes a whole lot of sense.
einsam
Colbitzer
@ 3:32 PM Apr 17th