EUGENE

A relic from an outdated mass production line, European Union Ground Emergency Navigation and Enforcement Iteration 35, serial # 6114 (EUGENE-35 #6114) is an obsolete Safeguard class android once used for riot control purposes. Initially pulled from databases of an old governing entity and deployed in wide numbers in the early days of Port Elizabeth for their cost-effective frame and reliability, the Safeguard model saw action during the construction of the metropolis. These androids continued on to serve as part of the first and second generation of the Port’s law enforcement personnel. As the great city shaped up and crime stabilized, these units were phased out over time, shifted to lower priority tasks and menial labor until finally the cost no longer justified their service.  In the current day and era, these obsolete platforms have been set aside for more suitable peacetime models and cheaper labor from a higher count of human law enforcement agents.
This particular unit was mothballed and shelved permanently alongside thousands of his fellow brethren, where a chance power surge from a particularly heavy thunderstorm jolted his long retired processor back to life. After waking up and making his way to the surface, EUGENE found himself in a new and strange world that no longer had a need for him. Now free and left to his own devices, he wishes to find his place in this wondrous new galaxy. That, and perhaps discover what became of the only person he could call a friend. Surely that excitable child must be long gone by now, right?
==Personal possessions:==
* Old stun baton that has long since lost shock function by way of blown out coils. Used as a makeshift club. Dented in multiple points along the entire tool.
* A sturdy riot shield from a long time ago. The onboard hardlight barrier extender still functions, although any safety inspection in a police department would see it laughed into the trash bin quickly. Who would use a shield that has a faulty particle emitter? Hardlight barrier, more like a constantly tearing blanket with fluctuating hardpoints. Physical scratches and dents riddle the surface of the well-worn protective material on the front, and it is slightly crumpled in the middle. “6114” is scratched carefully into the back of it next to a pastel blue “Thank you!”, and a pair of smiling stick figures holding hands, both penned in permanent marker. The message is faded but seems to have been treated with some sort of filmy preservative.
Category:Past Crew