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"Well, yeah, it was carnage as far as the eye could see. Nothing puts a smile on my face more than a Sovereign corpse, but lemme tell you, they make a mess." Carter pointed two fingers at the other man. "You've never seen anything like it, Han. They've got one brain and a pair of hearts. You either nail 'em once between the eyes, or you gotta waste two shots on both hearts. They won't go down with just one dead heart. Makes 'em annoying as fuck to kill. Anyway, their blood is this thick black stuff. You'd think it was tar when you first see it, but then you notice it's got these blue shimmery bits in it. No idea what it is, but it makes any battlefield look like a sapphire-encrusted oil spill."
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"Sapphires, huh? You think it's chitin or mineral deposits or something?" Han-jae wasn't a biologist, but he could speculate ignorantly with the best of them. "Yeah, they always told me to aim for the head, that center of mass wasn't going to work- of course, the Shanghai front had a lot more of the 'Little Bastards', the ones that move like a carpet of crabs on the beach. Those seem to burn really well but I wouldn't recommend them for crab stew....Anyway, I don't blame you for liking to make a mess down there. It's a visible sign things are going right."
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"I dunno... Maybe if I could show Ryne something like that, he could see the war is more in our favor than he think. Either that, or it'd traumatize the poor kid." Carter pushed aside his now empty forty and then guzzled on the second one. "Fire huh? I've actually never seen the Little Bastards for myself, but I wouldn't mind letting loose a flame thrower on the lot of them. If only we had a way of permanently collapsing the damn hole they all keep crawling out of. At least then we'd just have to clean up the ones leftover."
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"I wonder....I don't know if people smarter than me have found this out yet or what, but is it a physical hole or some kind of dimensional....thing? I know, very technical and scientific terms going on here." The Korean tilted his head. "Or, for that matter a thing inside the thing...You know what, maybe it's a bad idea to speculate about things that you'd need a Michio Kaku to deal with. Let's just assume it can be closed, because if someone could open it, someone can shut it." He nodded. "I'm not sure you'd need to -show- Ryne the blood. I know there's a big map of the war fronts somewhere; do they ever release versions of it for propaganda? Maybe if he gets a good look at where you're going he'll stop thinking about invincible mutants from the Hell of the Mincing Machine and Sixteen Departments of Underworld Bureaucracy."
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"Is that some kind of anime from when you were a kid?" Clearly, Carter wasn't the most sensitive when it came from distinguishing one Asian group from another. "I could probably get the map on request. Not like it shows anything top secret. I mean... I just don't want him to feel so scared, y'know? Believe me, I've read the history reports and watched the footage. New York was a hot mess and I still can't believe he was actually there for it. That was a scary attack to go through, but we're beating them back now. We haven't had an attack like New York in years. I want Ryne to realize that."
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"Oh yeah. Giant robots, laser swords, girls with purple hair, the whole business," Han-jae replied, absolutely straightfaced. "I hope you can cheer the kid up. He seems sweet, at least." Maybe a little immature, but sweet. "How did you two get paired up? Do they do it randomly, or is there a list, or what? I know that protocol is different in different towers, but I haven't had any experience in how it works here yet."
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"They have some form of machine do it. Apparently, the machine matches a perfect couple up based on their DNA. A lot of strange stuff." A man explained before he took another swig of his beer.
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"It sounds like a modern form of fortunetelling." Han-jae considered that and didn't know if he liked it; still, in order to breed the maximum potential number of humans, genetic compatibility probably trumped little things like personality compatibility or personal habits, and whatever this machine did was certainly better than the Shanghai system of "officers get to ignore the listed pairings in favor of taking the hotter breeders for themselves and blaming it on paperwork misfilings". Even though humanity was in peril, there would probably always be people willing to engage in a little recreational corruption.
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"Not all soldiers and breeders actually spend time together, so personality isn't a first priority. It's actually pretty rare that a soldier and breeder form a bond. There's this whole algorithm at work. When a guy signs up for the breeding program, whether he's gonna be one or the other, he has to go through a whole thing. They took your blood right? Made you run on a treadmill, lift weights, holding your breath, take an IQ test, do some puzzles... Behind the scenes, they do a background check on your family health too. It makes sense when you think about it. The medics are trying to eliminate risks due to recessive gene markers and stuff like that. Us soldiers have it easy, though. We go through a few test and then get to fuck somebody. Job's done. I hear the breeders have to put up with injections on a fairly regular basis."
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"...Hmm. Yeah, they do, don't they," Han-jae was reminded of just how impersonal this was, and wondered exactly who he would end up with, and how well he would get to know the person. "And I went through the thing and I don't think they were all that amused with some of my answers on the forms, but I passed the physical tests as well as anyone else. So there's that."
"You didn't miss anything exciting here while you were gone, so I'm trying to dig up some more good stuff to chatter about. Not much luck."
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Carter shrugged. "Nah, you don't have to entertain me, man. It's just good to be back home and around normal people." He slapped Han-jae on the back before taking another long drink from his beer bottle. Plenty of the other soldiers had stories to share, anyway. They entertained each other all night comparing kill stories. After hours of drinks, Carter excused himself back to his barrack. He knew he'd have to deal with Ryne eventually, and he didn't want to be too hung over when he did.
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Han-jae finally excused himself not long after; he didn't have the excuse of having just got back from war, and had to go back on duty in the morning, anyway, as there was stuff that would not maintain itself. "...remember, no one here is allowed to show up drunk, wearing part of a Russian uniform....not even if your commander did it."
He wondered idly if the paperwork that would get him sent to the front, or the other paperwork that might get him in the tower's breeding program, had ever gone through- he'd find out, sooner or later, about either one.
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The next day, a well-decorated medical officer paid a visit to the artillery lockers. He had a tablet in his hand showing the photo and profile of the man for whom he was looking. "Special Officer Han-jae?" he said, having found the man cataloging damaged armor for either repair or scrap. "I'm Chief Medical Officer Costanzo. I have your application here for membership participation in the breeding program. You'll be glad to know we've accepted your application. You passed all the test with flying colors. Congratulations, soldier," he said with a modest grin and offered his hand to shake. "If you'll come with me, we can talk about your paired assignment."
"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly.
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"...huh. Yessir." Han-jae took the offered hand and shook it, half-bowing at the same time out of habit before releasing it. He was actually surprised to get results, and followed Costanzo, intrigued as to where this would end up. He entertained the idea of asking about Piras and whether or not he was all right and in recovery, but decided that could wait until the end of the...interview? introduction? Whatever the term he was looking for was.
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Costanzo led Han-jae to the elevators, which they rode up to the medical bay. "It's sort of ironic," he began. "After analyzing all the data from soldiers and breeders, the computer usually provides a list of five potential breeders matched for one soldier; mostly in case the first one or two breeders are already pregnant. The top match on your list, well... I heard about what happened yesterday with Piras." They walked down the pristine white hallway together, passing by windows looking into rooms with either wounded soldiers or ill breeders. Contamination cases were handled downstairs, but standard medical attention was given on this particular upper floor. "It's a shame what happened to Warrant Officer Briggs. It's an even bigger shame what happened to Piras."
Costanzo stopped in front of a room where he looked through the window at the young man sleeping in the bed. Piras' black hair was in it usual braid with its unmistakable white streak. Even more noticeable was his lack of a swollen belly, the sheets laying flat across his torso. "You'll be starting from scratch with him."
"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly.
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"Sorry, I thought he was already-" Han-jae didn't know Piras well, true, but he could still feel like he had been punched in the gut. "What happened?"
He figured it was an astoundingly stupid question after it slipped out, and wanted to take it back- obviously, the answer was "you dumbass, he probably got contaminated with alien bugs and miscarried after you decided to suggest he go where all the infected people might be."
"Yeah, it's a shame."
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"Mistakes happen," Costanzo said in an attempt to remove blame from Han-jae. "He's not the first one this happened to and he won't be the last. Breeders are highly vulnerable to infection, especially without protective gear in areas of contamination. Piras picked up an infection downstairs. We were able to treat it, but it was an aggressive strain and the bloody madness already reached the fetuses. We had to terminate his pregnancy."
The man cleared his throat and looked back at Piras through the window. "The cosmetics team slimmed him back down and he'll be ready for new insemination in a few hours once we're sure the infection is completely cleared from his system. After any serious trauma for a soldier or breeder-- though soldiers suffer it more after coming off the battlefield-- it is standard procedure to use electroshock therapy to eliminate any short-term memory of the trauma. Piras will have memories of Briggs, but all pre-affectionate bond. As far as Piras knows, Briggs was lost on the battlefield and he miscarried due to a genetic glitch resulting from an error in the computer that makes matches. Do you understand all of this?"
"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly.
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"...all right." Han-jae hadn't been smiling since he'd seen Piras. "I think I can stick to that story." He felt like he needed to do something for the breeder beyond his duty of inseminating him, especially now that he knew that Piras likely wouldn't even remember ever loving the ill-fated Warrant Officer (and had probably been worked on all night with God-knows-what). The question was, what exactly could he do, other than make sure the poor man wasn't traumatized further. "Is there anything else I need to know?"
He looked at the sleeping breeder and then remembered the file he'd sent to Piras' tablet; he hadn't guessed he'd said anything much along with the file, just something about hoping it would be a good distraction- it likely wouldn't blow his cover.
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"That covers all the bases of your particular breeding assignment. Feel free to spend as much or as little time with him as you want. Only rule is don't let the relationship-- friendship, romantic, or otherwise-- get in the way of your regular duties. We are still fighting a war. All soldiers are welcome to be as involved or detached from the pregnancy as they want. You can attend ultrasounds and help with injections, or you can not participate in any of it."
As he went over breeding protocol, Costanzo used his tablet to send a digital copy of the breeding program handbook to Han-jae's tablet. "Sexual conduct beyond insemination sessions are generally restricted to reduce the risk of miscarriage or pre-term labor, although we're pretty sure some breeding pairs do it anyway. We also strongly advise against getting too attached to the unborn brood. After birth, all infants are sent to the nursery at the top of the tower for rearing and education. There is a six-week recovery period after the birth. Then, as long as the computer hasn't found more suitable matches for either of you, you'll inseminate him again."
He slapped a hand on the Specialist's shoulder and gave a firm squeeze. "Welcome to Project Restoration, soldier."
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"Yessir." Han-jae nodded, filing all the information away in his head. "Got it." Restoration? Hey, the military actually used a mission name that wasn't (incredibly) blatant propaganda or nonsensical! (He did like his job- but the armed forces certainly had quirks.)
He felt the tablet vibrate as the file was transmitted to it. "So...you said he'd be ready in a couple of hours. Do I stick around here, or will I be called back?"
Han-jae glanced into the hospital room again; Piras still didn't seem to be awake from where he was standing.