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A ladyboy scouted and recruited to service men in the army.

In less than a second, shots connected. First, Lovejoy's shot, left of center on the target's forehead.

Then, the enemy's burst. The first two skipped and ricocheted on the pavement in front of Lovejoy, who stayed prone, watching his own shot connect. The recoil of each shot corrected the next, approaching him. There was a sickening series of cracks, and Lovejoy tumbled back and to the left, hoping to absorb the impact of the inevitable hit.

He lay there for a second, and Wallcroft sprinted over, crouching over him, checking for the wound, but finding none.

"Are you alright? Lovejoy!?"

He sat up, and shook his head back and forth quickly, clearing his head. He pointed down to his rifle.

"Take an eye."

There was a clicking of shattered glass as he adjusted it for a better view. The inner workings of his scope were completely decimated, but the rear lens was intact. Standing up, Lovejoy shook out the loose contents until a small lead round dropped out, falling to the pavement with a low click. He opened the bolt, folded up the bipod, and dropped the rifle to the ground. Wallcroft walked over, handing him his MP5 back, and the squad regrouped. Genetti pointed out a nearby building, and briefed them further.

"That apartment block over there's fuckin' crawling with the enemy. Osprey pilots told us they've got easily over a hundred, maybe two hundred in there. I want this quick and clean; clear 'em out, send the rest a message."

"What's the spilt," asked another member of Lovejoy's fire team.

"It's ten stories; Each team takes one level, regroup, take five through eight, regroup, two teams each for nine and ten. I'm with you, Graham."

"You got it."

"This is gonna be different, people. We're here to strike fear in their hearts, to deter others from tryin' this shit. No prisoners, no escapes. Got me?"

The squad nodded silently, except for Wallcroft, who was still confused as to their specific mission. Still, as Lovejoy ordered the fire team to advance, he stayed close as ordered. When they approached the side entrance to the building, he saw an odd marking in shaky red spray-paint. The word "Vespers" was written crudely, surrounded by an uneven, lopsided circle.


"These sick fucks we're here to take care of. You know those anti-carnality laws, right?"

"...yeah, I know 'em."


Twenty years earlier, a new governmental trend had begun. Liberal officials had approved action regarding all manners of things, from stem cell research and artificial intelligence to genetically engineered food and cloning of livestock. Eventually, one clinching development brought real change to the face of the country, that being the successful implementation of completely artificial reproduction. It became the norm for parents to select traits for an artificially manufactured zygote, thus giving birth to a child with any traits desired, without the need for copulation.

This was the turning point for the then current administration, who had claimed to be the most liberal and progressive yet. Seeing the amazing effectiveness and efficiency artificial zygote manufacturing brought to their people, they began to become biased against, and later despise, traditional breeding. It became known as a barbaric process, or one that one indulged in simply for pleasure. Consequently, those who continued normal intercourse for simple pleasure slowly were branded perverts, as sickening as any pedophile, zoophile, or necrophile. The human race outgrew its need for sex, or so it seemed. As it became the commonplace to avoid sexual activities, governments the world over began to pass legislation limiting, and eventually banning all sexual activity, with varying punishments. Fines, prison sentences, and, for the more militant ones, worse.

Sex became somewhat of a black market item, and those who indulged in secret began to form organizations, somewhere between cliques and cults, devoted to their own type of perversion.

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