Alarms go off

On Shithole-9, the sound of the general alarm pierced through the loud 20th century music. This was nothing new. "Management", as the miners liked to call them, enjoyed being a pain in the ass, and drilled them frequently. Stan programmed his robots to continue in automatic safe-mode, and returned to the Main Station. No supervising meant lower yield, which would give him shorter breaks and smaller rations next week. He was already skinny enough as it was.

The guys lined up in groups of ten, and Major Jim Wothez went over the lists. Luckily, everyone was present this time, unlike last time, when a jerk from Bay 5 had been caught sleeping behind a harvester, causing Jimbo to freak out.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stan thought he saw something spark in the skies above the hall. Probably a micro-meteorite, he gathered. No decent space-ship would come out here to the backwaters voluntarily.

"OK, shitheads," Jimbo yelled, "management has decided it's time for another strip-search."

Everyone booed. One fucking time a guy puts a chunk of Uranium up his ass, and since then, mandatory strip-searches. Considering the fact that this stupid-ass thief died two days later by radiation poisoning, it felt kinda unnecessary.

"And here's the list of lucky participants," Jimbo said, and begun to read names.

Soon enough, Stan heard his own, just as always. He was sure someone up there hated him.

"Captain, we have scanned the genetic database of the 5,000 inmates," Lieutenant Jaymes said, "and this is the list of potential candidates. Short as expected."

The blonde uploaded a list of twenty men to her Captain. Each had a small bio next to a recent picture, but more importantly, their estimated characteristics and potential according to their DNA sample. Serrah Joamo nodded. These looked like good candidates.

"But of course, it's a game of chance," the Lieutenant added.

"Very well, Lieutenant," she said. She could always depend on her second in command. "Have them sent on board for further filtering."

She knew they had to do their job well. If she disappointed the Princess, she would never captain a ship again.

This was very unusual, Stan thought, as he was lined up naked next to the other inmates. The strong light **** him to look straight ahead into the wall.

"Next!" a robotic voice said.

It echoed through the large room. The man in front of him entered the adjoining room through a double door. No other voices or sounds were heard.

Stan considered his situation. He hadn't been on a space ship since he came to this moon, and it had been a cargo freight compared to this. These walls were brightly coloured, the gravity was very stable, and the air was comparable to the best places on Mars.

"Next!"

Stan looked at the other men and shrugged. Naked as the day he was born, he walked forward through the doors. He emerged in a rectangular room with two gray walls and a big mirror.

"Please stand in the yellow square," the voice commanded.

Stan took a step to the side and faced the mirror. Nothing happened for a while, but suddenly an electroprobe was inserted into his arm. He looked around.

"Please face the viewing screen!" the voice said immediately, and a flat image projector descended from the ceiling. It was porn. At first, it was men and women, which aroused him highly, and he felt his dick grow to an almost instant erection.

Soon the images changed. Those of several men and women together, he also enjoyed, as well as those with women playing with each other, but soon the videos changed again, and started to repulse him. His erection disappeared.

Eventually the probe retracted and the screen disappeared. He sighed.

"Please leave through the door on your left," the voice said.

Stan shrugged. What the hell was management up to?

"Captain, we are ready to start the procedures on the three candidates," Lt Jaymes informed. "The nanosurgeons will insert the epigenetic hormones specifically designed for each male, and the nanofabs are fully loaded with the chemical payloads."

"Good, Meea, let's hope their DNA is up to the task" Captain Joamo said in an unexpected colloquial tone. The two women shared a smile. They couldn't help thinking about what they were about to do.

"Go ahead."

The three specimens were lying on separate tables, each one inside a personal MedPod to contain and kill the nanobots after the surgery.

"A and B are surprisingly good candiates for a dump like this, Serrah," the Lieutenant replied, and the two chuckled.

"And a dump it is," she confirmed.

"C is somewhat of a long shot, if you ask me, but the computer insists we should try for some reason. Could be a bug, but..."

Captain Joamo knew the princess demanded something extraordinary, and it was their last chance before the wedding. This was the only mining outpost within range of Tasim-4 that had the crucial minerals required. But they only had enough for three specimens. Hence the tests and sorting.

The two women observed passively as the procedure started. Nothing could be seen macroscopically in this phase, but on their screen, they saw the tiny bots entering the three bodies. Shortly thereafter, the man in the central pod spasmed and tensed up. "B's nervous system is rapidly collapsing, Captain," Lt Jaymes said. "Terminating."

The man fell limply onto the mattress, his life signs flatlining. The two women sighed.

A few minutes passed before both specimen A and C's bodies started to show visual effects of the treatment. A had been more muscular and bulkier. C was fairly skinny. Now both of them became lean and strong. Their bodies morphed into the certain ideal shape that the two women knew the Princess would enjoy the most. When the procedure was over, their biological age would be 25, and they would stay that way for years, their internal clock almost frozen.

"Stage 1 complete," Lt Jaymes stated. "Now for the critical part."

Even in 2314, this was still a gamble. Though it had been researched for decades, nanomorph technology still couldn't reveal with 100% certainty who had the epigenial potential needed for a successful procedure.

The two women watched intensively. Suddenly A began to turn blue and his limbs fell off, one by one.

"Shit! Fuck!" Lt Jaymes exclaimed. "Terminating specimen A."

Captain Serrah Joamo crossed her fingers and focused on her last hope, specimen C.