KorTAC was doing a new project—take sperm from the best operators and match with the best female soldiers that volunteer to carry the resulting pregnancy. The goal was to essentially engineer the perfect genetics for a new generation of operators.

Ethical? Not really. But when there is war and there is money then any new brand of warfare was accepted. With the proper motivations anyone would agree.

For the fathers? Anonymity, a stipend, sometimes an under the table promotion if you were exceptionally wanted for the role. Good gene’s were gold.

For the mothers? Temporary leave, stipend through the pregnancy and a boat load of a bonus after the fact, top medical care, and your own private apartment on base in the new facility. Well off was an understatement.

So, out of curiosity, greed, and a particularly deep seated character flaw that made you feel impervious to high risk situations, you took the gig.

It was an odd sight when you started to show. You never pictured yourself as a mother but at least you wouldn’t really be one. Once the child is born your rights are signed away—the child is owned by KorTAC, raised in a facility off base and brought up to be a mastermind of war.

But by your 4th month you began to feel like eyes were on you at all times. Chalking it up to paranoia and the hormones you didn’t think anything of it when Nikto began to be conveniently around whenever you needed help.