Factions of Fundament: The Epimetheans
Every breath a rebellion Every birth a battlecry Every dawn a victory
— Refrain from Kalvix's The Epimethean Creed, a poem used as both a manifesto and a meditative mantra
Overview
The 3C-R1 "Odysseus" geneline was initially one of the more successful products of early bioengineering, a stable new subspecies of humanity rather than the individual modded beings of old. Odysseus morphs were envisioned as ideal colonists to break ground on harsh new planets, and engineered for extreme endurance and adaptability. Within a generation, ships loaded with "Oddies" were touching down on hostile worlds, laying the groundwork for future terraforming.
Within a couple of centuries, the endeavour was abandoned. A few high-profile biotech scandals and a galactic credit crisis left the Odysseus programme politically and financially untenable. But its creations were still out there, scattered across dozens of hellish landscapes, bereft of their purpose and, in some cases, cut off from vital supplies.
Rebellion was inevitable.
As the abandoned enclaves declared independence one by one and reached out to their fellows, a strange new philosophy began to develop among them, skewed by isolation and by the psychological quirks instilled in them. All they had known, as a people, was hostility from every quarter. It was as though the very universe was set against them. Perhaps, they began to believe, it was. Perhaps the universe itself was a violent, oppressive force set against anything that dared exist in it. Cosmic entropy was not merely a natural law, but an enemy of all living beings everywhere. And anyone who complied with its tyrannical reign, even through inaction, was a traitor to life itself.
The descendants of these forsaken colonists, the Epimetheans, are named for their conceptual deity Epimetheus (not the same character featured in ancient Terran mythology, but named in his honour). Epimetheus is an avatar of raw creativity, imagined as an exuberant trickster-god laughing in the face of the callous Nil, the avatar of the unliving universe. Epimetheans worship through creation, but they define creation extremely broadly — it can mean anything from siring and raising a child to sculpting an airless moon into a vast devotional sculpture.
Early in their existence, Epimethean agents stole the Odysseus genographs from Earth's archives, and they gained mastery over their own forms. Even moreso than their peers, they can look like almost anything they please. Many Epimetheans follow the original Odysseus blueprint as a baseline, with sturdy frames and rugged, bony countenances, but you'll almost never see one without a few additions or tweaks; extra eyes are always popular, and many have horns, fangs, and other stereotypically demonic features, leaning into their blasphemous reputation among bioconservatives. Older, more radical Epimetheans are often completely unrecognisable as humans.
Epimetheans live loudly and without compromise, driven by both religious fervour and their innate, engineered drive to work and build; they are theoretically capable of purging themselves of the latter, but most cannot envision ever wanting to. They organise themselves along loose clan lines based on creative approaches and artistic trends. Each of these clades is typically led by a "maestro", an informal leader whose powers combine elements of a cultural influencer, a tribal chieftain, and a union boss. Quarrels between clades are frequent and lively, but they can usually set aside their differences in the face of some greater-scope threat, or to work on collaborative projects.
Culture
Not all of these will be present in all Epimethean clades. Consider this a diffuse grab bag of snapshots from across the wider faction.
Epimetheans are not outright technophobes, but they tend to distrust and disfavour inorganic tech. AGIs are usually not illegal, but they're almost unheard of anyway, as nobody really sees the point in them.
Teenagers observe a coming-of-age ceremony called the Reforging, at which they receive their first elective augments and choose their first adult name.
Most reproduction is handled by exowombs, with zygotes synthesised from a slurry of genetic material from dozens of donors. Having children the old-fashioned way is a valid but slightly unusual choice.
Live music and theatre are popular, but heavy improvisation is the norm, and it's expected that no two performances will be the same. Prerecorded music, movies, and the like are rare curiosities.
Society as a whole is incredibly wasteful, and there's no cultural drive to consume mindfully or respect the environment. Well-established Epimethean planets often have artificial islands or even satellites made from rubbish.
Trends are serious business. Matters of artistic taste and critical interpretation are settled through ritual combat.
Settlements are extremely vertical, teetering skyscrapers intertwined with vast sculpted trees that form the superstructures of whole city blocks. Navigation is a nightmare for outsiders.
Massive parties, commemorating great civic or military successes or randomly celebrating existence, break out unpredictably and spread like riots. Sometimes they are indistinguishable from riots.
Warfare
The Epimetheans fight for two basic reasons: to sate their bottomless hunger for resources, grist for their infinite mills of creation, and to punish and defeat "Nilians", which, to them, encompasses anyone who gets in their way or allows stagnation and decay to reign. They don't pursue either lightly, for the benefits must be weighed against the inherent destructiveness of violence, which itself abets Nil. Epimetheans at war see themselves not as righteous, but as the lesser of two evils, and this fuels their merciless pragmatism on the battlefield.
Epimethean armies are loose, motley affairs. Warriors' bodies and minds are tweaked to interface perfectly with any hardware that hasn't simply been grafted onto them. These infantry are supported by a vast menagerie of beasts, though to call them this is slightly inaccurate, as most are in fact human consciousnesses translated into ferocious war-forms. Some spew venom and corrosive gases, others bristle with horrific bioweapons, and others still are simply furious bundles of fangs, pincers, probosces, and raw primordial strength.
Epimetheans have few permanent military officers, and most of their strike forces have loose hierarchies and broad, direct objectives. They are capable of strategic ploys and ruses of war, but these are rarely pre-planned; individual cadres and beasts behave more like cunning predators than trained, directed soldiers. Their ideal end result, though, is always the same: a brutal, no-holds-barred direct assault, where the Epimetheans' zeal and augmentations give them the edge over almost any foe. Enemies who can keep them at a distance or prevent them from bringing their full strength to bear may trouble them, but, if you're close enough to see the fire in a beast's eyes, it's likely too late for that.