"The day before he was to leave Chicago, Astor was injured during a high-speed chase."
"He's at County General Hospital right now with our specialists. Physically, we expect a full recovery."
"And what's the rest of it?"
- Viper
"Shut the door, Alec. There's a draft."
- GoldenEye
"I am the egg man, they are the egg men / I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob."
- The Beatles
Chloe's bare foot tapped in an impatient rhythm against the plush red carpet that lined the entire floor of Anna's personal office. Her hands were tucked against the crinkled pale blue paper covering her hips. G Corp's standard medical robe was little more than a short tissue that wrapped over her shoulders and legs. Just the indignity of wearing it outside of the lab made her want to beat someone's ass, but she didn't really have that option if she wanted to preserve the slightest bit of modesty. Her signature high kicks and gravity-defying roundhouse flips were out of the question when her outfit barely reached her thighs and completely lacked underwear.
While Chloe represented the very basic and cheapest way for "how to dress a pretty girl," Anna was on the opposite side of the office lounging in a long red qipao on an executive chair fit for royalty. An opened manila folder full of medical documents sat on the luxurious oak desk in front of the Weapons & Genetics chairwoman, and she was currently holding up an x-ray study of a female reproductive system in plain view. She could have just looked at it on her desk or taken it to a secluded corner with better lighting, but she was silently making a point to show how every part of her subordinate was high-profile company property. Chloe's personal maternal architecture was scoped out and specced out, and it wasn't exactly as magical as it was hyped up to be.
A hologram projector on Anna's desk shined two split images in the empty space behind Chloe's shoulders. Chloe never turned around to see them, but she could already guess what they were with growing frustration. Behind her right side, there was a still image dated a couple days ago, showing her lower body dressed in her usual black and pink tutu-jacket combo, mashed between two tank drones as they commenced her harvesting procedure with their precision tools. Behind her left side, there was another image stamped with today's date, showing her in the vulnerable medical gown she was wearing now, in the same compressed pose as the first image, but now propped up on a gurney while half a dozen gynecologists (the "well-educated human women in scrubs and medical masks" variety, not killer war machines) worked under her angled thighs like she was a car on a hydraulic lift. One photo depicted her in an uncomfortable but action-filled moment in her fighting gear. The other was an impersonal medical snapshot that really took the fight out of her.
"So what's the prognosis, doc?" Chloe asked stubbornly while her toes still tapped the carpet.
Anna put the x-ray back down, finally. She shut off the holograms, mercifully, and leaned over her desk with her embroidered silk gloves folded under her chin.
"We were able to reinstall most your original ova capacity. As we already discussed, about 100 have already been employed in our Next Gen Advertising program. Another 500 from your most potent supply will remain in cold storage for our use as a discretionary measure against your previous contract lapse." She turned to another page in the dossier. "The rapid extraction process put some unintended strain on your outer right infundibulum fibers, so you may notice your 'girls' lagging a little bit. Permanently. I'm sad to say it was a terribly stressful thing your system went through, and your overall lifetime fertility has dropped by around 20%."
She clearly wasn't actually sad to say this.
"I blame you guys." Chloe tilted her head sideways and snorted.
"On the contrary, I'd say it was the consequence of you choosing to breach your contract, combined with the substandard muscle strength in your ladyworks," Anna smiled with obvious phony compassion. "We all have a price to pay when we make mistakes."
Chloe rolled her eyes. The small cheekbones under her eyes started to blush with embarrassment.
"I guess you guys know me inside and out now. So what are you going to do with me since I've given up on the whole 'Take Down the Evil Scummy Corporation in a Dazzling One-Woman Show' thing?"
"Will you play nice from now on?" Anna blinked cheerfully.
"Yeah." Chloe sighed in submission.
"Promise to never oppose our plans again?" Anna playfully fluttered her lashes.
"Yeah." Chloe's mouth twisted bitterly.
"And keep taking all your vitamins?" Anna asked in a faux-motherly tone.
"Sure, whatever." Chloe threw up her bare hands in surrender. "I was a moron. I give up. Working for you goons and getting all the fame in the world is still better than being dead or winding up as some science freak."
Anna's palms confidently folded together. Now they had her.
"In that case, we'll re-employ you with a substantial cut in your pay and a slight decrease in your egg count. Your pay will gradually increase once you prove yourself reliable again."
"And?" Chloe grunted.
"And if you breach your contract a second time, kitty, we'll have no choice but to fix you with our more intense defoliation techniques." Anna's fake smile changed to a blatantly evil grin.
"What's that?" Chloe curled her eyebrow in curiosity as her foot stopped mid-tap. She was already suspecting she didn't want to hear the answer.
"That's when one of our droids goes in where the sun don't shine and yanks the yarn balls straight out of you, with all the tubing in between." Anna closed her eyes and tilted her head in a small threatening nod. "And let me tell you, dear. Once we get our clamps around that much of you, it ain't ever goin' back."
Chloe's eyes subtly popped wide open. She tried to play it off like she didn't care, but couldn't hide the fact she was nervously swallowing.
"Ri-riiight. Nobody wants that. You guys want me alive so I can be your happy dancy ad babe."
"Indeed," Anna nodded with a cold, controlling smirk. "We've never had to resort to those measures in an official capacity, but most of the test subjects died within a minute."
Anna may have been bluffing, but Chloe wasn't going to press the issue to find out.
"You better not question any of your superiors from now on, either," Anna added. "If you give me even a tiny amount of sass, I'll tell the entire staff how you like your eggs in the morning."
Chloe blushed with her hands crossed over the front of her paper skirt. She glanced away from her boss and mumbled in humility.
"So when do I get my gear back?"
"Oh, those silly things?" Anna pretended to gasp in surprise as she placed her silk fingers in front of her mouth. "I thought you knew! All your belongings are in locker 332 down the hall. Honestly, I was surprised you weren't already dressed before you came to the public offices. I was sure the orderlies would have told you by now. Those medical smocks don't cover much, hmm?"
She intentionally "forgot" to tell Chloe this information, because she wanted one last opportunity to embarrass her.
"Guess I learned my lesson," the G Corporation cheerleader grumbled in defeat.
Author's note: I decided to do Reverse-Ayashi no Ceres for once.