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. Located on frontier planets or moons, these camps were generally mining communities or agricultural colleefives. The work was hard, physical, and often dangerous. Those prisoners injured in accidents were provided cybernetic limbs and other body parts made to be strong, efficient, and cheap--not cosmetic.
This cyborg was bald. Acid bum scars mottled the skin on his head. His eyes---one of which was real, both of which were dark and brooding--were set deep beneath an overhanging forehead. His right hand was flesh, his left hand metal.
The security diagnostic that came up on the receptionist's recessed screen disclosed that seventy percent of the cyborg's body was artificial: left side, hand, leg, foot, face, skull, ear, eye. But the receptionist could see this for herself. Unlike any other cyborg she had encountered, this one scorned to hide his replacement parts. In fact, he appeared to flaunt them.
He wore combat fatigues that had been cut off at the hip on the left leg, revealing a broad expanse of gleaming, compartmented, and jointed metal. The left sleeve of his shirt was rolled up over the metal ann, revealing a series of LED lights that flickered occasionally, performing periodic systems checks. His metal hand could apparently be detached from the wrist, to judge by the locking mechanism, and replaced with different hands---or tools.
His age was indeterminate, scar tissue having replaced most of the original flesh of his face
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