[slidepress gallery=’model-citizen’]
Imagine that you are a stunning fashion model poised to sign the largest cosmetics contract in history. Fame, glamour, paparazzi, and an adoring public are laid at your feet. Then something happens that shatters your world, and sends you to pieces. Literally.
You wake up on a computer workbench to see an electronic arm lying on the counter, a leg leaning up against the wall. The mechanical assemblies are covered by a synthetic bio-plasm that bears an uncanny resemblance to your own olive skin. You try to convince yourself that these are not your limbs. Still, that birthmark looks so familiar.
A tidal wave of realization washes over you; those are your transistorized body parts strewn across the room. The shapely physique you flaunted in hundreds of steamy layouts was actually fabricated. The story your dear “parents” told you about taking the perfect baby home from the hospital was a lie.
It is said that beauty is only skin deep, and the irony is not lost on you. Underneath that flesh you tanned so evenly on the beaches of Monte Carlo is enough chromed alloy to make a junkyard dog howl.
Soon you will learn the truth of your origin. You’re an automation; a mechanism abandoned years ago by an advanced civilization who feared that the ultimate weapon they created would one day fall into evil hands. They concealed their secret within your curvaceous frame and sent you to earth. Now they need you back.
A Model Citizen must save the galaxy.
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