Chapter 1

I’m Paul. I live on Super Earth during the era of the Second Galactic War. We’re locked in a never-ending conflict against insectoids, cyborgs, and glowing alien horrors. We fight for democracy, for humanity, for peace which means every last one of those alien scum has to be wiped out. But the cost is staggering. Billions are already dead. Cities lie in ruins. Every time we reclaim a planet, we lose millions of troops and thousands of Helldivers. And for every soldier that falls, another must be pulled from home to take their place.

That’s where the breeding program comes in.

The human population started falling too fast. Not enough people to fight or even keep civilization running. Therefore, two years ago, the government made new laws. To extend the pool of reproduction units, they lowered the age of consent to fourteen.

To encourage participation, the government offers significant benefits to those who contribute to the population effort including citizenship point earn, better housing, priority access to medical care, and full citizenship status with extended rights. In a world built on survival, those who create life are now just as vital as those who take it.

The government also began encouraging citizens to have children with multiple partners to increase fertilization rates and improve genetic diversity. To make this safer, scientists developed a universal vaccine called Pan-STDV, which provides immunity to all known sexually transmitted diseases. As a result, relationships have become more open. Having multiple mating partners is now common and socially accepted, viewed as both a practical and patriotic choice in support of the war effort.

At Prime Liberty Pre-Military and Civil Service Academy, where I go to school, everything changed after the new bill passed. More and more students started showing up pregnant. Some were fifteen, or even fourteen. They walk the halls like heroes now, wearing their ‘Service Through Life’ badges like medals. A few are already expecting their second child, while I’m still a virgin.

My dad, Mike, used to be a Helldiver, elite troops who spread democracy throughout the galaxy. Fought in three campaigns. Survived them all. He has full citizenship. Now he teaches at my school. He’s tough, serious, and believes in the system. Always says things like, “Sacrifice builds nations.”

My mom, Belle, is in her late thirties and pregnant again. This is her third child. The government gave our family extra benefits for having another baby at her age. People tend to get pregnant whenever they can, to help their families and contribute to the war effort.

Dinner that night was baked protein loaf and rehydrated corn, better than usual. Mom cooked while humming a tune from the propaganda channel. Dad sat at the head of the table, scrolling through a combat report on his tablet.

Sandy was my younger sister. Loud, confident, and way more into this whole ‘Serve Through Life’ thing than I am. She kept glancing around like she had something to say. Finally, she dropped her fork and spoke up.

“I need to talk to you guys about something,” she said, looking at Mom and Dad. “Many of my friends at school are already pregnant. I want to do my part too ... But it’s still not working.”

That got my attention.

Then Mom gasped. “Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you!”

Dad nodded once. “Thank you for trying to contribute to the Super Earth. You’ll just have to keep trying.”

Sandy looked down at her plate, then back up. “It’s been about half a year now, and I’m still...”

Mom said, “Sometimes it just takes time, sweetheart. Especially now. Fertility isn’t what it used to be. Modern life has messed up a lot, the meds, the food enhancers, even the low gravity from all the off-world colonist bloodlines. It’s made fertility more fragile. You just have to keep trying.”

Dad asked, “The government guidelines recommend having diverse mating partners to increase the chances and genetic spread. Have you been following that?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried with five different guys,” Sandy said.

“Who are they?” Dad asked.

Sandy blushed a bit but held her ground. She rattled off a couple of names, both are her classmates. Then she mentioned the name of one of my classmates. I felt a punch in the gut, thinking about her with him.

Dad’s eyebrows shot up when she mentioned two more, both older men, one was the unknown dude who was in his thirties, but the other was Dad’s friend, Mr. Jackson, who is a teacher in her school. “You’ve been doing it with Jackson?” Dad’s voice was not mad but worried.

My head twisted at the thought of Mr. Jackson, a man old enough to be our father, pumping his sperm into Sandy, my sweet sister, trying to knock her up. I couldn’t believe Sandy would pick a man in her father’s age. And apparently, it had been going on for a while.

“My friends said that older guys have more experience and can help us learn about sex.” Sandy was looking genuinely concerned. She asked, “Is there any problem?”

“No, honey. Not with the idea of you doing it with an older guy but ... Oh dear, maybe we all should communicate more about our contribution and our sex life.” Dad said.

“Why?” Sandy asked.

“Well ... we just need to make sure we don’t have any ... unintended overlaps.” Mom stepped in.

“What does that mean?” Sandy confused.

Mom took a deep breath. “Well, sweetie,” she began, “If you get pregnant by someone who’s already had a child with me, then it might not be seen as the most ... efficient contribution to the genetic pool.”

Sandy’s eyes widened. “Mom! Is he ... a father of a baby in your belly?”

The revelation hit me like a sledgehammer. The thought of Mr. Jackson fucking both my mom and sister filled me with a weird mix of jealousy and unknown feeling.

Dad seemed unfazed, his face calm, though he tried to keep a smile on it. “Yes, baby. He’s a good man. But we need to be careful about producing redundant genetic child.”

Sandy’s cheeks went red. “Oh ... I didn’t know that. I just thought...” she trailed off, her voice sounding pitiful. “Crap! He was really good at it though, much better than all the boys my age. So, I can’t have sex with him anymore?”

Mom looked at Dad, and he gave a slight nod.

Mom then said, “You can still have sex with him, Sandy, if you want to. You just can’t get pregnant by him. Maybe use protection or something.”

You might not believe the casualness of it all. Mom was allowing Sandy to keep having sex with Mr. Jackson, just not get pregnant by him. And Dad also seemed to be completely okay to allow his teenage daughter to fuck a man his age for pleasure.

Sandy looked around the table, her eyes sparkling like she’d just been accepted into an elite unit. It was like she was part of some exclusive club, and I was on the outside, looking in. Everyone around me seemed to be playing by a new set of rules, and I hadn’t even read the rulebook.

Then Dad turned his attention to me, his calm expression shifting to a practiced concern. “And you, Paul,” he said in a low voice, “your sister is making a genuine effort to contribute. She understands the urgency of Super Earth’s future. How is your contribution?”

I felt a familiar tightness in my chest. This again. “I’m focusing on my training to get picked for the Helldivers corps, Dad. That’s how I’ll serve.”

Dad leaned back. “Yes, Super Earth needs fighters, and it also needs citizens. Have you succeeded at getting any girl or woman pregnant yet, son?”

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. “No, I haven’t. I’m actually still a virgin. I’ve been too busy with my military training,” I blurted out, feeling defensive. “I’m trying to get an A in every class this semester. I also enrolled in special courses such as Combat Survival, Tactical Theory, Advanced Weaponry, and Strategic Operations. I’m completely focused on becoming the best Helldiver and military officer I can be. That’s my priority.”

Sandy piped up, “Mom, Dad, Pual’s part of that war-nerd group at school, the ones who only think about fighting and don’t seem interested in sex at all.” She shrugged. “They spend all their free time in the simulations or studying old campaign reports. They just want to get to the front lines.”

I glared at Sandy, but she just smiled. “That’s right,” I said, turning back to Mom and Dad. “Look, a single male can impregnate dozens of women, right? With the Pan-STDV vaccine and everyone being so open about it, there are plenty of guys doing their part to boost the population. Me not jumping into that fray isn’t going to affect the birth rate. My contribution will be on the battlefield, killing bugs, bots, and blues, not wasting time on fucking girls. That’s how I’ll truly do more for Super Earth.”

Sandy scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Paul, come on. Sure, the main objective of sex is making babies for Super Earth, obviously. But there are other benefits too! It’s fun! Even if I haven’t gotten pregnant yet, I’ve had a blast with my partners. It’s like, a normal part of being a teenager and growing up, you know? Like, you’re probably all going to die on the front lines anyway, so why not have some fun, some adventures now? It opens up your world.” She looked at me with a pity expression, as if I were missing out on the most obvious thing in the universe.

“Fun?” I scoffed back, the word tasting bitter. “What does fun matter when billions are dying? I’m not here for fun, Sandy. I’m here to serve. If Super Earth demands my life, I’ll give it. If that means I’ll miss out on anything, anything at all, I’ll give that too. My only purpose is to do what’s necessary to protect our home, our species, whatever the cost.”

Mom leaned over and took my hand, her eyes softening. “Paul, I know you’re so eager to go out there and fight. But they won’t be sending a virgin to die in the front lines, honey. You need to be a man.” She squeezed my hand gently. “A man who has lived before he fights.”

I stared at Mom, surprised. “They won’t be sending a virgin?”

Dad, seeing my confusion, nodded slowly. “Your mother speaks the truth, son. Super Earth wants its brave soldiers, men, and women, to have at least one child before sending them to fight. It’s a directive, a core principle of population preservation. And it’s also because a soldier fights hardest, with the most desperate determination, when they are protecting their legacy at home.”

The words hit me like a tactical bomb. My focus on becoming a Helldiver had completely blinded me. “So ... I can’t even fight until I’ve ... had a child?” I stammered, the realization crushing. Mom and Dad nodded confirmed.

“Fuck! I guess I’ve been doing this all wrong!” A wave of pure panic washed over me. “Shit! I spent all my time and all my dedication on my training. Now, I don’t even know how to ... how to make a move on a girl! What should I do?”

Mom took a deep breath, stroking my hand. “Don’t worry, Paul. We’re here to help you. We can find a suitable partner for you. Maybe one of Sandy’s friends who’s looking for a stud? Sandy, isn’t Cara looking forward to her second child. Didn’t you use to have a crush on her, Paul?”

I felt a knot in my stomach at the mention of Cara. I remembered the sleepovers she used to have with Sandy when they were kids. When we grew up, she was my main masturbation material. But that was before she got pregnant last year.

Sandy shrugged, a playful smirk touching her lips. “Cara? Oh, she definitely wouldn’t mind for some fun with you at all, Paul. But ... she just found out she’s pregnant with her second child. Right, Dad? Good job on knocking up your daughter’s best friend, by the way.”

Dad nodded with a grin. “Well, Cara has other partners too, but yes, the latest test results confirm that she’s carrying my child. I’m going to get some more citizenship point for that.” His tone was one of pride.

The revelation left me reeling, the family dinner dissolving into a blur of horrifying implications. Later that night, tossing and turning, my mind raced. I couldn’t escape the fact that my dream of becoming a Helldiver, now hangs on this wicked requirement. Who could I even ask? Panic clawed at my throat. Then, a desperate idea sparked: Pam. She was a female friend in my war-nerd group. She’d be as virgin as I am.

I pulled out my comms unit and called Pam. She answered on the second ping. “Pam, listen,” I blurted, my voice low and urgent. “Do you know about the rule? The one about needing to have a child before being sent to war? That they won’t deploy us until we’ve reproduced?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a small gasp of surprise, not from my news, but from my own naiveté. “Paul, you seriously just figured this out? Of course, I knew. It’s in the enlistment fine print, Section 7, subsection Gamma. The ‘Replenishment Clause.’ Didn’t you read it?” She let out a soft sigh. “Don’t worry, though. I already took care of that requirement months ago.”

My mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. “What do you mean, ‘you took care of it’?”

“I’m already three weeks along. Just got the confirmation this morning. My mom’s been helping me out with it, setting me up with some guys,” she said with a shrug.

The sadness was a cold fist in my gut. We’d spent hours of training and practice together, in the simulation pods and the gym. She’d gone and gotten pregnant without even considering me.

Dad knocked on my door, the sound jolting me out of my thoughts. “Paul, can I come in?”

He stepped into my room, his face serious. “Paul,” he began, “I understand your situation. I know you’re feeling a bit lost right now. But I might have a solution for you.”

Dad took a seat on the edge of my bed and pulled out his comms, bringing up a holographic projection. A picture of a woman and her daughter, both stunningly beautiful, floated in the space between us. The mother had dark, almond-shaped eyes and luscious black hair, undeniably Asian, radiating an exotic beauty. Her daughter, though, was the real prize. She was my age, with a cute face that made my heart skip a beat. Her figure was amazing, not the slender model-thin type, but a beautifully full and curvy build, with a perfectly proportioned bust.

“This is someone I’ve been seeing for several months,” Dad said. “I told her about your situation and asked if she knew anyone looking for a stud like you. She said her family definitely needs additional assistance and suggested that you and I come over tomorrow evening. Would you like to meet them?”

My eyes flickered between the two figures in the projection. It seemed clear that the mother was looking for someone for her daughter. I recognized the face of her daughter from school. We hadn’t talked much. Her name was Maya, and she was in the same grade.

I knew exactly where I remembered her from. It was last semester, during our ‘Civic Contribution and Citizen’s Rights’ class. I usually zoned out during those lectures, my mind occupied with tactical theory or weapon schematics. Maya had her presentation that day. She had walked to the front of the class. She spoke about the delicate balance between individual liberties and collective duty. What really stuck with me was her argument that building a thriving economy and civilization was just as crucial as waging war to protect it. “If our society isn’t worth living in,” she’d posed to the class, her voice ringing clear, “then what are we truly sacrificing ourselves for?”

I found myself captivated, not just by her thoughtful words, but by the way the light caught her dark hair, and the earnest expression on her serious and cute face. When she finished, the whole class was silent for a beat before erupting in applause. I’d never paid much attention to anything outside of my Helldiver training, but that day, Maya had genuinely impressed me.

She was actually the one who made me believe that putting all my focus and dedication into fighting the war was truly worthwhile. Because if there were people like her back on Super Earth, dedicated to forging a civilization truly worthy of protection, then my sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.

From that day on, while all my friends were out, planting their seed on various girls, my sole obsession was on my training to be a Helldiver, a destruction machine for killing bugs and bots. To be frank, she was the reason I was a virgin right now.