5.New Recruit

To address the issue of population shortage, every colonial fleet carries a reproductive cell bank. Once the fleet reaches a colony planet, the primary task is to cultivate a new generation. All resources are allocated toward raising children because the colony's rapid development depends on when the first generation matures.

However, human colonial fleets have always maintained the tradition of family-based child-rearing. Most newborns are conceived using a combination of the colonists' reproductive cells and stored genetic material. Since these children can only meet either their father or mother, this method is called "single-parent matching," also known as "fast-track reproduction."

This colonial model, based on single-parent matching, is sometimes humorously referred to as the "ant model" or "queen ant model"—since a newly established ant colony must rely on limited resources to nurture worker ants. Only when these workers mature can the colony enter a phase of rapid expansion.

Lancang Star has a colonial history of over a hundred years, and large-scale single-parent matching is now a thing of the past. However, the reproductive cell bank remains operational, and anyone who submits an application is rarely rejected.

Moreover, the reserve center analyzes the applicant's genetic profile, searching its database for the best genetic match. It can also adjust the next generation's genes according to the applicant's wishes, eliminating hereditary diseases or other defects to ensure the birth of the best possible offspring.

Why was Qin Hu able to keep up with the fast-running resistance forces despite lacking any equipment? Genetic adjustments played a crucial role—at least, that's what Wang Zuo believed.

However, children conceived through genetic matching grow up in single-parent households, which raises significant challenges in their education. Many of these children, upon growing older, wish to know who their other biological parent is.

Under no circumstances does the reserve center disclose donor information to applicants. However, every genetically matched child has the right to request details about their other biological parent, allowing them to learn the identity of someone they've never met.

Yet, obtaining such information often proves meaningless. Colonial fleets traverse hundreds or even thousands of light-years, enduring countless years of travel. By the time a child learns about their missing parent, that individual is likely thousands of light-years away—either aged beyond recognition or long deceased. Who would travel across vast distances just to meet a biological parent?

It's not surprising that Qin Hu never bothered to check. Most single-parent matched children never seek out their other parent.

The silence among the resistance members made Qin Hu uneasy. "Have you really never heard of them?"

Everyone understood what it meant when a soldier went missing in action, but no one wanted to say the harsh truth out loud.

Wang Zuo placed a firm hand on Qin Hu's shoulder and sighed. "We can't say anything for certain. Once we reach the base, I'll ask around. Maybe someone knows something."

The last flicker of hope in Qin Hu's heart reignited. "Thank you, thank you!"

"No need." Wang Zuo's expression remained hidden in the darkness, but he ultimately chose not to say anything further.

Better to let this kid hold on to hope a little longer.

The hover vehicle moved at an unpredictable pace, twisting and turning through the underground tunnels. Occasionally, it stopped, either descending or ascending, until it finally came to a complete halt after more than half an hour.

They were still underground—pitch black, with nothing visible.

Wang Zuo pulled Qin Hu out of the vehicle. A soldier pushed open a concealed door in the wall, and the group filed in, greeted by the damp, earthy scent of underground chambers.

"Watch your step!" Wang Zuo reminded. "We're safe now. Just walk carefully."

"What is this place?" Qin Hu asked, stepping onto uneven but solid ground, as if treading on stone.

Wang Zuo pressed his lips together. "Don't ask unnecessary questions. You'll find out when you need to."

Qin Hu understood immediately—this place must be critical to the resistance's operations in Lanjiang.

Though Wang Zuo said nothing, Qin Hu's exceptional hearing picked up the echoes of footsteps—sometimes distant, sometimes near. This meant the tunnel's size varied constantly and had many branching paths.

Constructing such an extensive tunnel system was no small feat. The resistance lacked the time, manpower, or resources for such an endeavor.

The conclusion was obvious: this must be an abandoned mining tunnel on the outskirts of Lanjiang!

Qin Hu had always been passionate about history and was well-versed in the history of Lancang Star.

When the colonial fleet chose Lanjiang as a settlement, it was because the region housed the largest iron ore deposits on the planet. Over thirty years, settlers mined the veins dry, leaving behind an intricate web of tunnels.

Decades ago, the mines were located far from the city. But as Lanjiang expanded, its borders merged with the abandoned mining areas.

The mine shafts were eventually sealed, and few people knew their locations anymore. But the resistance must have found old records and repurposed them—perhaps even establishing their main base within these tunnels.

Qin Hu let out a silent sigh of relief. Even if the Visen forces suspected the resistance was hiding here, finding them in such a labyrinth would be nearly impossible. Safety seemed assured.

After two hours of navigating the winding tunnels, a faint light appeared in the darkness—an electric lamp illuminating an empty corridor.

Wang Zuo stepped into the light and declared, "Squad Leader Wang Zuo of the Second Operations Team!"

A voice from the shadows responded, "Welcome back, Captain Wang!"

Wang Zuo pulled Qin Hu forward into the glow. "His name is Qin Hu."

Qin Hu felt a wave of nervousness. He had no idea what to expect next.

The voice from the darkness spoke again. "Identity confirmed. Escort the new recruit to the designated area for registration."

Wait—what?

Qin Hu was completely baffled. New recruit?

Before he could protest, Wang Zuo had already accepted the order. "Understood."

"Hold on!" Qin Hu interjected. "How did I suddenly become a recruit?"

"What else would you be?" Wang Zuo countered. "The defense force doesn't support freeloaders."

Qin Hu felt a pang of frustration and helplessness.

His father had been a soldier, but because of his father's special assignments, they rarely spent time together. As a result, Qin Hu never developed an admiration for the military; in fact, he somewhat resented it.

Seeing the hesitation on Qin Hu's face, Wang Zuo frowned. "What? You're unwilling?"

Qin Hu clenched his jaw, suppressing his true feelings, and nodded. "I'm willing."

Truthfully, he wanted to say no. But what choice did he have? His home was gone, his father's fate was unknown, and staying with the resistance might be his only chance to uncover the truth.

After all, his father was his only remaining family.