"Rough Date" is a swell piece of fanfiction by Fin Tuscany.
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"Fight them, Maxie," X5-599 had said. "Promise me you'll fight them." Everyone in the field hospital heard him. After the strike on the DNA database, 452 had been shot in the chest by her own clone. She was dying. Her so-called friends had abandoned her. Manticore was thrifty. They gathered up her damaged body. Perhaps they could still get some use out of 452. They labored over her. Things had been looking very bad for 452 until the renegade 599 shot himself in the head, surprising them all. He donated his own heart to save 452. X5-599 thought he was sacrificing his life, but that's another story.
After a while, 452's condition improved. The X5 Series had been designed to have amazing recuperative powers. Manticore began the tedious process of breaking her, so they could re-indoctrinate her, and maybe recoup some of their investment. Another thing that needed immediate attention was their stockpile of embryos, so they worked up a breeding program. They chose a likely candidate, and matched him with 452.
494 was strong and healthy. He and 452 would produce viable offspring. There was a 72% chance they would pass on their genetic enhancements. Those were good odds. Elizabeth Renfro, who had taken over daily supervision of the X5 project after the defection of Lydecker, was cautiously optimistic.
"Well, let's get this over with, huh?" 494 said to 452, stripping off his shirt.
452 gasped. "What are you doing?" she said.
"We've been paired off," explained 494. "I'm your breeding partner. We're supposed to copulate every night until you get pregnant." 452 looked outraged. She was going to be difficult, he could tell.
"That's sick!" she said. Shortly after that she kicked him, and he went flying.
Max was dragged into PSYOPS, and strapped to a table. One of the nameless, faceless doctors hooked up a laser, and pointed it into her eye. Max was scared; she had never felt so alone.
"Fight them, Maxie." She heard Zack's voice in her head. She had no memory of him saying that to her; she had been flat line at the time. She resisted, with every fiber of her being. It didn't make a difference.
494 was in the barracks, staring up at the ceiling, when the orderly came. He was bored and irritated. He wished Manticore would send him out on an away mission. He was sick of 452, and wanted another assignment. He got off his bunk, and followed the orderly. His stomach turned over when he realized they were headed into PSYOPS. He had done his time in PSYOPS, it had been hard time, and the lab filled him with dread. Manticore gave the orders, and he carried them out. He had no option other than to cooperate. He didn't know any other life. With dismay, he saw 452, unconscious on an exam bed. The orderly snickered. "Have fun," he said, and left the room.
494 kept his face expressionless, but he was in turmoil. What exactly was going on? He stood beside the limp body of 452. She had long dark hair, and that made him think of Rachel. He shoved that thought away. Rachel was lost to him. He didn't know what had happened to her, in the end. He looked around, waiting. He was ill at ease. What was expected of him here? A hot light illuminated the high table, but the rest of the room was lost to eerie shadow. 494 reasoned that 452 was a traitor and deserved what she got, but sprawled on the table she looked very small and helpless. Only the sound of her slow, regular respiration broke the silence. 452 was a pretty girl. He looked at her again. All the X5s were attractive. He knew he was. 494 had been admired quite a bit, by women he had met on his away missions.
A loud speaker crackled to life. "Get to work, 494."
He was startled, but recognized the voice of his C.O., Renfro. "Excuse me?" he said, forgetting to call her "ma'am."
Over the intercom, Renfro made a harsh, impatient sound. "Don't play dumb, 494. I know you've been lying to me. You'd better redeem yourself. Make it quick. 452 is at the peak of her cycle. Plant your seed, and you can go back to barracks."
494 was taken aback. Here? They wanted him to fuck 452 in the middle of PSYOPS? He didn't think he could. He looked over at the one-way mirror. How many people were back there?
He reached for the button on 452's pants, and unsnapped it. He undid her zipper, then worked down her fatigues. He realized he was going to have a bit of a problem. They should have put her in stirrups, or something. He went back to the end of the table, and unlaced her boots. He slid them off her feet, so he could pull down her pants.
452 was wearing gray cotton underwear. He rolled them down, and off her ankles. Now, except for her socks, she was naked from the waist down. He spread 452's thighs, and hiked himself up on the table, kneeling between her legs. He undid his own fly, and shoved down his pants and shorts. This was awkward. And it was just like Manticore. Why couldn't they have set this up better?
There had been a perceptible shift in the way things were run at this base. Instead of the smooth efficiency of the past, operations hiccoughed and stuttered. There was a hurried sense of haphazard disorganization. This new breeding program was the latest example, another facet of what 494 had come to fear was some sort of trickle down decay, poor management or worse. 494 was disturbed. For the first time he understood that Manticore might not be forever, that it might be imploding. 494 didn't have much of a picture of the world outside the base, or how it worked. He knew only that he didn't have a place in it, and if his home was destabilizing, what did that mean for his future?
He pulled 452's hips, sliding her closer to him, and spread her legs wider. He bent her knees. Supporting himself with one hand in a semi pushup, he slid his other hand between their bodies. He felt his way along her smooth stomach, and over her mound of coarse hair. He took himself in hand.
For a sickening second, he was afraid he wasn't going to get hard. Not like this, with 452 as still as death, and everyone watching. Biology won out in the end. He was young, and he didn't get a lot of chances to fuck. 452 was sexy, even if she was a pain in his ass. Stiffly, he inserted himself. He was a bit rough, because of course 452 wasn't ready for him. She'd be sore, later. He wondered if she was going to figure out what had happened. Well, if she got pregnant, she'd be a little suspicious. He began to pump, slowly at first, then harder. 452's body was captured under him, skewered and defenseless. 494 could hold an erection a long time. To hell with Renfro. She wanted a show. She could have one.
With his ass in the air, 494 banged away. 452's head fell to the side. He put a hand on her cheek, to turn her face back to him. He wanted to look at her. He wished she would open her eyes. That wasn't going to happen, she was out cold. He grabbed her wrists, and pushed her arms up over her head. He was working hard, but he held himself back. This was a break in the routine, and he wanted to make it last. His upper lip twitched, and curled back in a snarl, exposing his teeth. In the back of his throat, he made a primitive, involuntary sound. 452 smelled good enough to eat, and he buried his mouth in the side of her neck, sucking, tasting salt. He stopped himself from sinking his teeth into her soft flesh, but only just.
Who was 452, anyway? What did she do out there, in the world? Why wouldn't she do what Manticore wanted? It was extraordinary, actually, this whole escaping thing; it would never have occurred to 494 you could even do that, you could get away and be free. What would it be like? Could you do whatever you wanted? That was a new idea, subversive and interesting. He suddenly found himself a lot more curious about 452. She was a bit of the unusual. He realized his blood was up, and that he was being foolish. He was starting to think of 452 in a different way. He was feeling dangerously tender, and that was stupid, because this wasn't a date, it was an assignment. He realized he had accomplished his mission, as unhappily, he came.
494 lay on top of 452, breathing heavily. He put a hand on her face. She had a really big mouth, literally and figuratively. He had experienced it, first hand. He touched her lips with his fingers. The loud speaker barked, and he jumped. He had forgotten they were watching.
"That's enough," said Renfro. "Get dressed, and get out."
"I've gotta get out of here, now," 452 told him desperately, a short while later. Her face was pinched and sickly. They were back in her cell. She seemed to have no memory of what had gone on in PSYOPS, and he was glad. He was feeling a little uneasy. Then she asked for his help. "This is your chance to get me out of your life for good," she said.
He agreed to help her; it was all part of the plan. She'd be back before sunrise. He was glad she wasn't going away forever. He wanted to see her again. He'd had her once, but once wasn't enough. He wanted another chance. He wanted her awake, and moving under him. He wanted to look into her eyes. He shook himself. Time to get back to business.
The End