The Drone

It's well known that the Dracoss are... a unique species. Unable to reproduce naturally, they're heavily reliant on the technology they produce. Their bodies so feeble that a single wrong step would snap their bones like dry twigs. So small, So meek, So creative...

I was able to convince a Dracoss to take a picture of one of their hatcheries, always advertised on the Network with tag lines like...

"The New You!"
"Cancerous and Dangerous? We'll give you the new body!"
"About to die? You certainly don't need it!"

Knowing what goes on behind the Black Box wasn't worth the half a million I coughed up.

"He's one of the Hatchery caretakers. one of the drones that looks after the newborns."

Much Needed Relief

 It was a much needed relief. The medics did their best to administer some beta-blockers to stabilize that heart. 

 Doc also said that the chest would require daily relief for the next month. 

 There was that other option though... 

Call the Medic!

It started with a slight discomfort... a slight burn, an itch you can't scratch. He kept massaging them, hoping it'll pass soon. He still had 5 more hours on the clock, keeping tabs on his battleships and fleet deployments...

Again, they were warm to the touch. his chest almost uncomfortably swollen. Popped a few buttons to let the boys breathe. Why is it so goddamn hot in this ready room? Environmental controls are still functional.

And then he slammed the emergency medical alert. his chest burning, a rush of heat rising to his chest and head. snarls, growls, uncontrollable jerks.

HRRGH!.. HRRRGHHH!!! MEDIC!

Morning Routine

"Good morning. Current Time: 05:00. Temperature: 24 degrees.-"
Shut off the alarm, Kiss the still sleeping wife on her cheek. Strap the eye patch on and-... Oh, that's not... Bah. Better get a new shirt and take care of this later...

Dangerous Nights

It's unfortunately not uncommon to come across a bloody apartment unit or a hotel room in these parts of the city. Rich folks have too much time and money on their hands while we civil servants toil away trying to clean up this hell hole. 

But sometimes, it's just a better idea to run away. Run away from your duties as said civil servant. 

So that you can live and come back to work the next day, looking forward to the new position that just opened up yesterday.

Tranquility

It's well known he disappears around this time of the year. 

Usually somewhere deep inside the northern jungles.

Rumor has it, that's where he's from, and plans on having a family of his own there.

A Family Sea Dog

Marcus usually didn't care much about having pictures taken for ID cards or Biometrics.

But ever since he came home, and finding out his wife subscribed to the Bantian Central Comms phone services WITH camera capabilities.

He couldn't help but take a few well-timed portrait shots for her to look at during work.

and of course, one to get her in the mood when she comes home from the Medical Deck.