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CHAPTER 1

Armageddon Station: Australia.

The best way to describe the function of the station is to explain it using historical references. If you took a mad scientist — actually several — put them together with Noah and a group of really wealthy fanatics, the outcome would be the post-apocalyptic place Qhoi liked to fondly refer to as her home…

Gen-AU- 2-111-359, otherwise known as Qhoi, fought against the two security officers that had knocked on her door. It was the middle of the night and she should have known better than to open the portal after hearing the rumours that had begun to circulate recently.

She didn't want to hurt either of her co-workers, but if it came down to it, she would do anything she could to stay exactly where she was. Her life was sustained by working as a high-level security consultant and trainer. I'm insulted there's only two of you, she snarled, watching them attempt to corner her.

359, we have orders to take you in. Qhoi, I'm sorry, but you have to come with us. The committee have sequestered you, he informed her, taking a step sideways, his tactic designed to distract her from the second officer in the room, but he failed. Well, they can all go fuck themselves as far as I'm concerned, she replied, preparing to defend her honour and her right to choose. Unfortunately, she hadn't seen or heard the third guy until after she'd felt the sting of the dart. She glanced down directly at the protruding object before her eyes returned to those of the stranger as she began to face plant. Fuck y....

Malachi (Gen- US-2-112-357) stood outside the entry to 359's room, listening to the fury in the female's voice. The sound of it slithered under his skin and made his member thicken. She was a feisty one from the sound of her.

He'd been sent to the Australian branch to collect the breeders. It was part of a foreign exchange program. His own sister had looked at him with hatred in her eyes, on her journey to England. He swore he couldn't change anything, but if he could, he would gladly swap places with her. On the second part of the trip, he'd had to switch off his emotions. He was pissed about the entire set-up. He didn't understand, how the powers that be could just make demands of their scientists to correlate the DNA of possible breeders from all groups, simply because the gene pool was getting too polluted, as they called it. They wanted fresh blood brought in to 'clean up the murky waters' so to speak.

It wasn't the fact that there were logical arguments for doing it, it was the way they were going about it that had him pissed at the system. All attempts by the Genetics Division had failed to successfully produce an incubated embryo that managed to live past eight weeks, so the Council had commanded them to begin the ‘Natural Breeders Program’ to ensure the life of future generations.

He stepped quickly into the female's room and fired his weapon.

Dude, that's cold. You know she's gonna be really pissed when she wakes up, Gen-Au-3-222-687 said, as he caught his falling co-worker. She's gonna kick your ass!

Malachi re-holstered his weapon and walked to where the smart-mouthed guards were about to drag her from her room. One knee hit the floor in front of them and he shouldered her weight, then stood. As the senior officer, he barked orders at them to pack up everything in her room ready for transportation. He stormed out of the woman's quarters heading towards quarantine. Once the group had been gathered for transfer, they were to be housed in the upper level to ensure their homeostasis was stable and ready for departure.

His arm wrapped around her thighs, and recognised the feel of naked, silken flesh under his hand as his eyes slid sideways. His staff stiffened even more at the sight of the curvaceous ass in boy-leg briefs, and he held back a moan.

It had been way too long since he'd had any relief in that department. The scientists hadn't found him