"Technation"

"Technation." Evane spat on the cold ground, his mouth and nostrils filled with the stench of machine oil, rotting body parts, and desperation. The city-state dictatorship known as Technation resembled more a dying robotics facility than actual governship. Self-aware robots who had broken away from the Earth Federation's grasp a few centuries ago began experimenting with human body parts. Their plan, they said, was to use the biological enhancements with their own machinery to make usher in a new era of peace with humans. Unfortunately, things hardly go as planned.

The young mercenary looked down at his right hand and chuckled. The one good thing to come out of the entirety of Technation was the bogu. Crafted almost entirely biologically but with a few nanomachine implants, bogu were the epitome of the marriage between technology and biology. Crafted on the hand as a living parasite, the bogu fed on rare elements within the solar system, and were able to alchemically transform raw mineral into energy almost instantaneously, sometimes with fantastic results. The simple injection of sodium into the small hole in the palm of the hand could produce a large flame spouting from the orifice. Soon, ships, transports, and entire colonies were fueld on modified bogu technology, using only salt as its natural fuel and leaving zero waste. Evane's arm until nearly his elbow was covered in the parasite, which looked like a darkened green skin that was constantly ebbing and flowing like a river. He still had full functionality in his right hand, and he had learned to control the intake of minerals to produce smaller, more manageable effects. This was a weapon, but also his livelyhood.

Evane stepped into a small room, and was immediately greeted by machine-like spiders, scanning his entire body and checking for weapons. Three loud beeps meant that although he carried weapons, he was permitted to take them in. Reaching into his coat pocket, Evane pulled out a cigarette and put it in his mouth. He walked down a long hallway and stopped short of a robotic bodyguard with a pretty female face. She (it) scowled at Evane and motioned him forward. Evane shook his head and waited. Almost as if on cue, a small gout of blue flame erupted from the side of a leaky pipe, lighting his cigarette. The robot looked confused as the mercenary walked through the door.

"You'll never understand, will you," Evane said as he entered his "employment office."