MODEL CITIZEN: original property

Imagine you are a stunning fashion model poised to sign the largest cosmetics contract in history: fame, glamour, paparazzi, an adoring public all laid at your feet. Then something happens to shatter your world, send you all to pieces literally.

You wake up on a computer workbench to see an electronic arm on the counter beside you. A leg leans up against the wall. The mechanical assemblies are covered by a synthetic bio-plasm that bears an uncanny resemblance to olive skin, your skin. You try to convince yourself that this is not happening. Still, that birthmark looks so familiar.

A tidal wave of realization washes over you. Those are your body parts splayed across the room. The shapely physique you flaunted in hundreds of steamy layouts was 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 body you tanned so evenly on the beaches at Monte Carlo is enough chrome to make a junkyard dog howl.

Soon, you will learn the truth of your origin. You're an automaton, a mechanism abandoned years ago by an advanced civilization who feared the ultimate weapon they possessed would one day fall into evil hands. They concealed its 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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