Although best known for not having enough sense to keep his nose out of the bottle- Otto Rigger, when he’s not soused, is to put it bluntly, freaking brilliant.
A somewhat defrocked Biochemical Physicist by credentials, Rigger has spent his every waking moment since his accreditation, slaving to create the ultimate killing machine- a ‘manchine’ that will kill a man, as casually an ordinary man might eat a sandwich.
Out Rigger, as Rigger so lovingly refers to his creation, is in reality not only half man, half machine- but an extension of man. A perfect specimen of the human male form, reinforced by virtually indestructible hardware where musculature and skeletal structure used to be.
Out Riggers only flaw, is arrogance, in that he finds himself a thing of beauty, a defect passed down to him from his human side. This self idolization has unfortunately run off into the mechanics of his usefulness, as it has become evident- he plans on making a name for himself.
Written for Six Sentence Stories, prompt word this week: Extension. With a special nod to D Wallace Peach, as her may Speculative Fiction Challenge provided the photo that inspired the story.