Overseer's Report 1 (Patreon)

[[A bonus mini series + story cause y'all have been so patient! Hope you enjoy this alternate timeline Artemis]]

Research Colony 290Delphinidae

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Now that I have time to think back on it I realise; when I was assigned this pisshole of a job I really had no idea what I was getting into. Someone back at corporate must be getting off on these memos, laughing at me from the other end of the galaxy.

Asshole.

We took in our first batch of ‘tourists’ today. It’s only been a few years since the colony was established and already they’re sending civis in our direction, like we don’t have enough to deal with after cleaning up their screw-ups.

As a point of reference I refer to the Genetic Preparations Modifications they had our colonists go through upon arrival at Delphini. We all went along with it. A couple of extra pounds, sleeker pelt, something to help with the cold, you know? Turned out the whitecoats had no idea what was really in those genetic cocktails they sent with us.

Paperwork shows they figured it was going to be a standard insulation package. A biomod molotov that took ingredients from the hardiest of the organic specimens we were sent here to study. It’s standard procedure upon entering any new biosphere to take immunisation and genetic packages from the local wildlife, especially if the colony is going to be there a while. It lowers the risk of foreign diseases decimating the fauna whilst helping the colonists fit in with their new biosphere. Considering we were going to be founding our base at the bottom of the ocean it made sense to splice our DNA with the orca-esque mammals we had observed flourishing in the area. As I mention above - we figured it’d be a couple of pounds, a sleek water resistant coat, that sort of thing. I mean, look at biopost Delta, they didn’t have to deal with the shit we did. People call them mermaids, for gods sake.

We didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary at first. Our males had thicker guts, our females hips began to jiggle. We made light of it, you know? We were all so busy working our tails off getting the colony set up we had more on our minds than a couple of extra pounds. We figured if the mods were screwing with our metabolism we could fix it later, right?

Our gods damned naivety...

By the time we realised something was seriously wrong the worst of the symptoms had only begun to set in. Our females began to swell, cradling massive, gravid guts that swayed as they swam through the hallways. The men would’ve thought it hilarious if by that point most of them didn’t weight over twice what they did when they got here. I remember watching them wobble and jiggle about like seals. In the water they were fine but they were practically beached if you asked them to go inland for more than half a mile. Considering how much the modifications were beginning to hurt our foodstores I had our own whitecoats take another look at the formulae we’d been injected with. They didn’t come back to me with good news.

Turns out the local genes were particularly incompatible, something about the genderless nature of the local orca-like critters. When our own genetic templates were exposed to it the girls began to get pregnant, and I mean pregnant. They didn’t give birth, they didn’t stop growing. And growing. And growing. The men didn’t fare much better, at first they got pregnant too. Pregnant and so fat they couldn’t do much more than flail their stubby useless limbs. By the end of their transformation they weren’t male anymore, but something inbetween. Physically, at least. It took us a couple of months but we managed to work that little kink out, not that it matters much for the original colonists. Once you take the genemods they stick to you. Ain’t a one of us managed to back to our old bodies, once we got used to it we just sorta stopped trying.

That’s just how it is here and frankly? We’ve come to enjoy it.

We didn’t bother telling the tourists about the permanence of their new condition, ain’t nothing they can do about it out here on the Rim, we’re well beyond the territory of The Empire and we can use all the hands we can get. One tourist, a trader named Artemis raised seven shades of hell when she found out what she’d been injected with. I don’t blame her personally, what with her own trading ship and a life outside of Delphini, but she’ll learn to love it here. We did. The girls are throwing her a party as we speak, calling it a baby shower or something. Welcome home Artemis, the water’s a little cold but soon you’ll be so big you barely feel it.

When they’re all adapted we’ll put them to work where they please. She used to be a fox, perhaps I can convince her to work security. Theft is becoming a problem as our food stores drop lower. Those blobs in D-section won’t survive if we go on rations so best we clamp down now.