It would a terribly<span style="font-style: italic">inefficient</span>means of dying, Freki thought. It would reflect poorly on him to die like that - rather than whilst accomplishing his mission objectives. Though, on the other hand, it would also be a very pleasant way to go - far better than his insides being liquefied or turned into a hatchery for spiders.<br/><br/>It was worth the risk - and it was a very small risk regardless. It wasn't like he had heart problems. It would be insane to make an artificial organism designed for combat with health issues, especially one like him built with stamina in mind. The prospect of such copious amounts of sex was tempting anyways - humans had not nearly the endurance wasp-women were known for.<br/><br/>He smirked as he stood up, leaving the empty husks of his meal lying on the table. He wondered if it was wise of his human superiors to enable GenSects and GenImals and such to reproduce - by the time this war was over they could well be as populous as humanity itself.<br/><br/>His kill-trophies were obvious as he approached one of the patrols, the necklaces hanging around his neck and the daggers stuffed into the shoulder harness' sheaths. He gave them his polite smile - the one that showed none of his fangs - and nodded. "Greetings, ladies," he began, shifting his stance a little to make the daggers more obvious. They were, after-all, more impressive than the fang-necklaces, having come from a huge tarantula. "Could I perhaps interest any of you in some<span style="font-style: italic">quality</span>breeding? With so many humans about it must be awfully hard to come by the good stuff..."