Hector from Sector 12

Overview

When Hector walks into a room in The Deep Dregs, the regulars know what to do. Nobody remembers Hector's last name. At some point, the man became the place, and the place became the man. He's been "Hector from Sector 12" for so long that even official documents probably just say that. His abuela might remember, but she's not telling.

By trade, Hector is an electrician specializing in fiber optic installation, repair, and extraction. That last one sounds fancier than it is — it mostly means salvaging copper and fiber from abandoned infrastructure before someone else does. He completed a rigorous 3.5 weeks of trade school, which his abuela set up for him, and he considers himself a certified professional.

He runs what he calls a "gang," but it functions more like a trade guild. Some might say it's just a construction crew. You won't find them listed on any official contractor registries, but you can often find them in their vehicles, parked conspicuously close to fiber optic supply stores, waiting for "opportunities." The smell of solder and stripped copper hangs on his crew like cologne — sharp, metallic, honest.

Field Observations

Hector refers to himself in third person. Always has. "Hector from Sector 12 don't wait around" is not a statement of ego — it's a brand, maintained with the same discipline he brings to splicing fiber. Trade jargon bleeds into everything he says. Deals get "spliced together." Problems get "terminated at the junction." People who annoy him have "bad impedance."

He mentions his 3.5 weeks of formal education constantly. Not defensively — proudly. His abuela arranged that certification, and in Hector's world, that makes it worth more than any corporate degree. Those who've watched him work describe it as prayer with a wire stripper: methodical, reverent, fast.

Stocky, strong from physical labor. Hands calloused from years of wire work. Always wears a gray beanie that completely covers his hair — no one has seen what's underneath in years. Blue plaid shirt buttoned to the top. High socks visible above work boots. He moves with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how many volts it takes to kill a man and has decided not to.

His crew is fiercely loyal. He pays fair, trains them himself, and has used the C4 to protect job sites more than once. For many of them, Hector is the closest thing to a mentor they've ever had. He treats his people like family. He treats everyone else like potential customers.

The Fiber Guild

What Hector calls his "gang" operates somewhere between organized crime, a trade union, and a construction company. Initiation is simple: track how many miles of fiber optic cable you've installed. More miles means higher rank. They don't control streets — they control job sites and supply runs. Revenue comes from gray-market installation contracts, salvage extraction, and "protection" for legitimate contractors who wander into the wrong part of the Dregs.

In The Deep Dregs, if you need fiber work done fast and don't want to pay corporate rates, you find Hector's crew. They're reliable, their work is good, and if someone tries to interfere with a job site, well... that's what the C4 is for.

The guild provides something rare in the Dregs: steady work, fair pay, and a sense of belonging. For a lot of young people in The Deep Dregs, joining Hector's crew is the best opportunity they'll ever get.

There are rumors the Guild's cable runs overlap with parts of the CyberFiber Network — the Sprawl's deep-layer fiber backbone that most people don't even know exists. Hector's crew has stumbled onto junction nodes that aren't on any municipal survey. They splice around them. They don't touch them. Hector has a rule about this, and the rule is: "If the cable is that clean and nobody's claiming it, somebody very serious put it there. Leave it alone."