Deimos was smart, a little too smart for his own good really, but those off-planet would argue most Ferragons were the same self-absorbed, smug bastards who brought doom upon their own world through their inability to accept aid.

He'd made a name for himself as a small time researcher, working on a (rare) government visa across Ferros to study and repurpose whatever salvage remained available for them to use. Having been adopted by an eccentric but curious researcher herself, he researched drones and grew alongside her grandson in the meantime, working to ensure that he would not be abandoned again.

The arms he had crafted for himself came into handy the night he turned his visa in to leave, allowing him to quickly kitbash himself a small energy pistol to arm himself with (as a weapons engineer, it was something he'd created hundreds of times for others, never for himself). In truth, he really wasn't much good with such combat, figuring it beneath him and shirking on any training. The complacency would bite him in the ass when he left the facility, having ensured to go through all the measures to not leave with anything incriminating...but even then, he was branded a traitor and fugitive, with a (hilariously) high bounty placed on his head for his retrieval...dead or alive.

Deimos had become the prize pig of bounty hunters across Ferros overnight. He fled from place to place, eventually shrouding his face with the mask after spending far too much time outdoors instead of the safety of the inner sanctums, and when he'd once again fallen in with the scientists he had witnessed being arrested before, they had offered him some temporary sanctuary in one of their underground laboratories, thanking him for arriving and assuring his safety within their boundaries. Deimos studied the notes they had gathered about the field test locations, the energy signatures having grown unpredictably humid in the last time they would be there and rendering most breathing apparatus and safety equipment ineffective...but the place was allegedly a hotspot for the less-than-legitimate to gather various types of highly-prized ore for their armors and weaponry to skirmish with.

For now, he arms himself, practising to keep himself safe and to get himself out of this as much as possible. It was odd to consider other Ferragon would lower themselves to ask for aid the way the scientists had reached out, but it hadn't really been like he had much of a choice in the matter when it came down to the wire. For now, he applies his brilliance to safety equipment and various siege machinery, in the hopes that they would be the first to excavate that vein...and finally become rich enough to stop caring for those who still sought to have them all killed.

In recent times, Deimos boarded a mercenary ship as a weapons engineer, hoping to get away from Ferros and its wretched climate as much as possible. He now takes comfort in recovering from everything on Ferros thus far, all while earning his keep maintaining the weapons of the ship and crafting short-ranged melee weapons such as energy swords to arm the crew if needed. He's become slowly adopted by the crew itself, becoming a part of their family, and Deimos finds his walls increasingly broken down the more he spends time with them...