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Drills icon.png
Drills portrait.png
Planet Humb

Drills are a race in the game.

A rather dull race that could pass as the bulldog’s long-lost cousin, they are aggressive and touchy. It was a dark fortune that sent them off into space: since then they have spent more time fighting and stealing technology than living at peace with their neighbors. They get what they want by flattery, betrayal, and threats. Simply put, Drills could not be more primitive and single-faceted, as they interrupting their hunt for food only to fight.


There are four Drill genders, and whether they breed in circles or by alternating determines the gender of the offspring. Their young are handed over at birth to be cared for by the community, a process in which the parents themselves do not participate.

They mate quickly and mindlessly, which is why there are so many of them.

The short lifespan Drills enjoy is plenty for them. After all, a subpar intellect doesn’t need the time others would take to accumulate knowledge.

Their bodies are built for physical labor, and they can handle a wide range of temperatures as well as limited doses of radiation. They can go without air for several hours, are tireless in battle, and are mindless of pain. In fact, they only stop fighting when the last of their limbs is severed.

The aggression and touchiness Drills display depends on their hormonal balance. When in heat (a common occurrence), their darker character traits come to the fore, driven by a testosterone equivalent that stunts intellectual development. Female hormones leave them reacting emotionally to changing situations, and, given that there are four genders, those hormones create a hellish cocktail. Obviously, the Drills have no taste for scientific inquiry, and the other races are better off destroying them than balancing their hormones in an attempt to find their even-tempered, brighter side.


The Drills spent their ape-like lives on the planet Humb until one day, which the rest of the galaxy—not least of all the Sharatars themselves—would come to rue, when a Sharatar battle cruiser attacked them out of the blue. Needless to say, the Drills slaughtered the crew after torturing out of them all the knowledge their puny minds could handle. And that was how the Drills became an interplanetary race. Fast-forward a century and they were wreaking havoc on the surrounding worlds, attacking planets and gathering enough technology in the process that they were able to catch up to the more highly developed civilizations. They wrested achievement after accomplishment from the hands of those around them until they had conquered an empire expanding across the galaxy. Their domain was so expansive, in fact, that there were enough colonies for everyone after the Drills were defeated at the Battle of Betelgeize. Since then they have hated the Logans, who abandoned them in their hour of need, leaning instead toward the Erians.

The Drills left behind them a number of exterminated races (including some weak and harmless ones) as well as worlds that were no longer anything more than deserts.

Greedy, stupid, and foul, Drills are poor allies, though they are always trying to build alliances they can leverage to borrow everything their new allies have to offer. The source of their newly gotten gains, of course, is quickly forgotten, and they rarely feel the need to spend time explaining themselves.

Studies run by Gavaken historians (Drills once attacked a Gavaken colony, after which the Gavakens turned the focus of their research on them) have shown that the Drills’ military expeditions were driven by famine on their desert planet. It turns out that they only set off to conquer their neighboring worlds when a rising population was faced with a restricted food supply. Their stolen riches let them push further afield until the Battle of Betelgize put paid to their aggressive foreign policy.


Before the appearance of the Sharatar spaceship on Humb, the Drills’ primitive culture had much in common with a troop of monkeys: survival depended on strength and the ability to build a shelter. Once they were able to steal information and technology from others around them, they copied it to create something approaching a civilization. They then took off, ravaging the galaxy like a hurricane and cherry-picking the cream of the cultural crop from the races they conquered and destroyed. Sure, they personally did not benefit in the least, remaining lead-footed at the same level of development from which they took their first steps into the galaxy. The Drills have been upstaged by the Great Erian Kingdom, which considers them little more than animals in need of guardianship. The Erians have created much, though their amusing, if stupid, pets despise their pools the most. They have trouble learning new skills and therefore, to the distress of their patrons, spend more time drowning than swimming.

Drill society is set up as a warrior democracy with a touch of absolute dictatorship. They steal together, while commands are given by and mercy is shown or withheld at the pleasure of the Drill greedy and aggressive enough to hold the seat of power. That position is often handed down by right of succession.

They couldn’t care less about their own history. Clothes, dishes, and a few tools necessary for everyday life are the only traces of a material culture found on Humb. Interestingly, the only Drills working in the arts are those who have spent significant amounts of time living with the Erians.[1]

  1. game log