Can he handle this?

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"N. Gin!" 

Cortex's commanding voice echoed through the halls of his castle. He impatiently tapped his foot as he stared at the two baby bandicoots on his lab table. He couldn't conquer the Earth when his "mutant soldiers" were just babbling infants. Brio had stared at the baby rodents with a mix of intrigue and slight disappointment. This wasn't how their experiments were supposed to go. 

Minutes went by, Cortex's already limited patience was running thin. Cortex yelled again, "N. GIN!" Almost immediately after his second yell, however, the large door to his lab opened. A familiar rocket-headed scientist peering through it. N. Gin wobbled into the room. He was breathing fast, clearly he had run all the way to his superior's lab. "Y-Yes Dr. Cortex?" N. Gin's robotic voice asked cautiously. He knew Cortex didn't like waiting, and that his delayed arrival most likely aggravated him. "About time you showed up, N. Gin," Cortex rolled his eyes, exaggerating his annoyance, but eventually dropped it. He decided to move on to more important matters.

 "I have a new assignment for you." Cortex smirked, his tone sounding somewhat devious, though it was rare for him not to. He leaned his back on his lab work table and crossed his arms, blocking the cyborg's view of the bandicoots. Brio remained quiet, looking at Cortex quizzically. 

N. Gin tilted his head slightly, his rocket bobbing with his movements. "What is it you need me to do?" N. Gin asked, his hands fidgeting a bit. Cortex beckoned his minion closer with the simple hand movement. N. Gin did not question it, and approached his boss. Cortex gestured towards his experiments, letting N. Gin view them up close. "Rodents?" He asked, not sure what Cortex wanted from him. "Bandicoots, to be specific. These are the experiments Brio and I have been working on. As you can see, they aren't ready for combat." Cortex ended his sentence with a dissatisfied tone. The scientists watched the baby anthropomorphic animals fumble around on the table.

 "Do they have names?" N. Gin asked, watching the babies crawling around on the table.  He had to admit, they were cute. With their orange fur and big eyes. He always had a soft spot for rodents. Cortex grabbed one of the bandicoots by the fur on the back of their neck, the child letting out a startled or distressed squeak. He handed the mammal to N. Gin, who cradled them in his arms. "That one is named Crash. And this one," Cortex paused and grabbed the second child and handed them to N. Gin. The cyborg cradled one in each arm, a little jarred by the action. "This one is his sister Coco." 

'Crash and Coco,' N. Gin thought. 'Catchy'

"I need you to take care of them. They may be useless now, but they may have potential for the future." Cortex stated, his tone making it clear that was an order. 

N. Gin had to do a double take. His body stiffened upon realizing what he was being told to do. A wave of uncertainty hit N. Gin's core.

 "T-Take care of them? You mean-" 

"I want you to raise them as your own." Cortex interrupted him. His command was so blunt it left little room for N. Gin to argue.

 N. Brio also looked shocked, he had no idea Cortex intended to leave these infants under the care of N. Gin of all people. Was he trying to get his could-be future minions killed? "M-m-master Cortex, you really want to leave these children with h-him? N-no offense to either of you, but N. Gin doesn't exactly seem like t-the, ah, 'parental' type." 

N. Gin immediately felt a spike in anxiety. His mind rushed with a thousand concerns at once. Sure, he had cared for rodents in the past, but they were just that. Rodents. Animals. These bandicoots were meant to be humanoid to some degree, he was basically just being asked to raise kids. Was he really a good choice for this? He still had his other responsibilities. Even in that moment, he was covered with bits of soot, gunpowder, and who knows what else from his projects. He smelled like smoke, copper and gasoline. Not exactly things associated with child safety. Plus, time was a big problem. He was constantly busy, either doing maintenance on things like the generators and security system, building weapons, or making improvements to his life support system. How would he have the time to do all of that and look after these two children? 

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