Making Space Bastards: Eric Peterson and Joe Aubrey

What Space Bastards is, according to its creators

Space Bastards is a comic about an interplanetary postal service in which delivering a package is a contact sport. Writers Eric Peterson and Joe Aubrey created it, Darick Robertson, whose work on Happy! and The Boys made him a go-to artist for outrageous material, draws the main story and the French publisher Humanoids releases the trades. Volume 2, which collects issues 7 to 9 along with some one-off stories, is available through Humanoids, and it should not be confused with the Director's Cut special editions of the same volume that the creators sell through SpaceBastards.com.

In a long conversation about the series, the two writers explain how the book works. In the future they describe, getting a package between planets is difficult, so Postmaster General Roy Sharpton introduces new rules. Whoever delivers a package gets paid, and postal workers can use any means necessary to steal a parcel or to deliver it. Each time a package changes hands, the fees to the customer rise, and so does the courier payout. Peterson compares it to Lyft or Uber, only violent.

The system first attracts ex-convicts and people used to being shot at. The story begins when it starts to attract anyone disenchanted, such as people tired of a nine-to-five or unhappy in life who want to be masters of their own domain.

The series reached publication by an unusual route: a film project that ran out of money, a Kickstarter, a first artist who left for other work and a bold phone call to Robertson.

From no-budget movies to a comic book

Peterson came to the story with an aspiring film and television background. He and Aubrey made a few Space Bastards movies, but the problem with filmmaking, he says, is that every explosion costs money. A comic book has no such limit, so a comic was the logical next step.

The early film work had its hazards. Aubrey recalls a shoot in an elevator that called for a smoke machine and live wires, during which the wire dragged lighting equipment as the doors closed and Peterson ended up a few inches from a spark. It was the last Space Bastards film they shot. Readers who want to see what survives of that footage can scan the QR code on the back of the first Humanoids issue.

Kickstarter, Gabo and Darick Robertson

The original release was in 2013 to 2014, Aubrey says. The pair had a script for issue 1 and an outline for the first year, and they had an artist known as Gabo make a prototype. They pitched it to Diamond and a few publishers and then chose to crowdfund it, using the money to produce the rest of the series. The Kickstarter was a success, but Gabo became busy with other projects. That is when the writers aimed higher and approached Robertson.

Peterson says Robertson was integral to the look of the universe and also served as a sounding board. The writers write for each other first: Peterson tries to make Aubrey laugh, and Aubrey tries to make Peterson laugh. One of Robertson's early surprises was his feedback on pacing, which showed what could be tighter and shaped the direction of the book.

Layla, Proton and the ensemble

Asked whether readers should ship Layla and Proton, the two answer differently. Aubrey wanted a moment between the characters and raised it with Peterson, who rejected the idea outright: Layla would not be interested in him. Aubrey concedes he was right, since a romance might have made him happy but would not have been true to the character. Peterson allows that there is some attraction because of the intimate situations they end up in, but says Layla has bigger mountains to climb and another agenda.

The exchange shows how the writers treat the book as an ensemble. They set the rules of the postal system, then let the characters collide inside it, and they would rather lose a crowd-pleasing beat than bend a character to get it.

Why a postal service?

Peterson had been thinking about this universe since he was young. He wanted a world of Han Solos and shady characters in a science-fiction setting, doing something. The postal idea gave the story what Aubrey calls necessary ingredients: an object that has to be transported, a time limit, stakes, and a constant source of danger for an ensemble cast. The rules took a while to refine. Aubrey jokes that, since they wrote it before ride-share apps, they might have invented Uber in another universe and become very wealthy. Instead, they wrote a comic about a gig economy that did not yet exist.

How the Space Bastards books are organized

• Humanoids editions: single issues and trades that follow the fastest line of suspense.
• Director's Cut hardcovers on SpaceBastards.com: a fuller reading order with extra material, 13 by 9 inches and 130 pages according to Aubrey.
• Artists: Darick Robertson on the main arc, with other artists, including Simon Bisley, Clint Langley, Colin MacNeil and Boo Cook, on side stories focused on single characters.
• Planned run: four hardcovers cover what the writers consider season one, with volumes 3 and 4 in production at the time of the conversation.

Space Bastards creators on art, money and advice

One of the more interesting parts of the interview is how the two scripts differ by artist. Peterson says the pair outline all the issues first, then match each story to the artist who suits it best. Peterson writes a full script, with a lettering script after the art is done, and reads nothing but books by the artist he is working with so he can think in that artist's visual language panel by panel. Aubrey then helps clean up dialogue and adjusts fights and plot points. Aubrey adds that Peterson's familiarity with the British anthology 2000 AD artists was critical, and that Peterson is the tailor who takes the suit and makes it fit the artist.

Humanoids came into the project late. The writers had nearly 500 pages finished before signing, a large parcel of work the publisher could have taken apart. Aubrey says the editors read all of it and were receptive and complimentary. Peterson calls them wonderful, and says the reception was far beyond what he had expected in a year with almost no conventions.

Looking back, Peterson says he would change everything but the story. Launching a comic is hard, a collection of well-known artists costs real money, high-quality hardcovers are expensive and the book was released during the Covid years, which changed how it could be marketed.

The creators are open about the economics. Revenue from merchandise and the hardcovers on SpaceBastards.com goes straight into funding year two, because the artists were paid in advance. Peterson says he would write the series until the day he dies if the model allowed it, but the team is trying to be smart about it. An ending is already written, so the story is not being improvised.

Aubrey is a board-certified psychiatrist and a sole practitioner, and he talks about the value of a creative outlet. His day is spent diagnosing, prescribing and guiding, and few people want his opinions, so writing with Peterson lets him push characters to the extreme in a way a clinical setting does not allow. Peterson studied at Scottsdale Community College, a vocational program where students shoot a film on 16mm and edit it in the first six weeks, and he later worked as an editor and a producer on a local TV show.

Their advice to anyone starting a project is practical. Peterson recalls meeting Steve Dillon and Garth Ennis in New York and being told by Dillon that no matter how hard it is, or whether it pays, nothing replaces getting your stories out under your own conditions. Aubrey says the main thing is to complete the work and find someone to read it, whether by Kickstarter, a digital release or a Patreon page. What they want readers to take away is that there is a place for dark humor, that unsavory characters can be fun without being harmful and that there are many more stories to tell in this universe.