Chapter 1

Korgin

“Calm down!”

“Fuck you.”

“This is for your own good.”

“And fuck you too.”

I brought both my fists up, but there were just too many of them.

Six security guys jumped on top of me and, somehow, one of them managed to slip a needle past the scales on my shoulders. I felt its bite on my skin, and then came the burn of the sedative as it made its way into my bloodstream. Before I knew it, I had been strapped to a gurney.

“I’m going to tear you apart, you little shits!” I shouted at the three Varumpian therapists standing behind the security guys. They immediately took a couple of steps back, the tentacles under their chins wiggling in a nervous fashion. “Let me go right now!”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” the one standing in the middle said, hesitantly taking a step toward me. That was Livander, the prick in charge of my process. He glanced at the datapad in his hands and then nodded at the security guys. They started wheeling me down the corridor, guiding me through the maze-like facilities of the Tranquility Recovery Center. “This will do you good, Korgin. The latest research indicates that holotherapy has incredible results in the treatment of those with anger issues and—”

“Do I look like I’m fucking angry?” I shouted again, straining against the straps so hard that I was actually surprised they didn’t snap open. I blamed that on the sedatives. I started thrashing around, and the gurney swung from one side to the other, threatening to tip over. It took all of the security team to keep it steady.

“Please,” Livander insisted, standing on the doorway as the security guys pushed me inside a cylindrical room. “Just give it a try. It’ll do wonders for your mental health.” The room was incredibly large, each of its opposite walls standing more than 200 yards away from each other. As far as holodecks went, this was the most impressive one I had seen.

As soon as the gurney had been pushed to the center of the room, the security staff undid the straps restraining me and bolted for the door immediately. The sedative made my muscles feel like the sagging breasts of a retired stripper, and so I settled on swinging my legs off the gurney lazily.

I raked one hand over my face, trying to push down my anger, but it was impossible to do. I had always been an exemplary soldier, and I had blown more Zanthi outposts in the fringes of the galaxy than any other Kaleth I knew. Sure, I had also been captured and spent a whole year in a Zanthi penal colony, forced to mine asteroids and fight other prisoners…but I didn’t let that stop me, did I?

I organized a prison riot, killed every Zanthi asshole in charge, and then made my escape. I thought the Federation would welcome me with open arms after all that, but they stamped my files with the word every warrior worth its salt dreads: therapy.

Apparently, after I managed to find my way back to Federation space, some of my superiors complained that I had become ‘ill-tempered’ and ‘hard to work with’. I disagreed with their choice of adjectives. How about ‘high-achiever’ and ‘awesome’? Turns out, they didn’t agree with my assessment, and so they had me shipped off to this stupid facility in the middle of nowhere, supposedly so that I could work on my feelings.

“Let me out of here!” I shouted to the room’s emptiness, gritting my teeth so hard that pain shot up my jaw. My reply came in the form of a booming voice that echoed through the entire holodeck.

“Try and relax, Korgin,” it said, and I recognized the voice as belonging to Livander. “We’re going to put some Enya for you as the computer renders the holographic projections.”

“Enya? What are you—?”

Just then, the sounds of Orinoco Flow started coming from the speakers mounted overhead, and that just made me even angrier. Enya? What the fuck were these guy going to come up with next? Cookie-baking and a marathon session of old Oprah reruns? Human culture had some good stuff, no doubt, but this wasn’t it.

Just then, the air around me started to shift.

The curved walls glimmered for a moment, and then their grey color changed into the deep-blue of a cloudless sky. The floor beneath my feet turned into a green field, and red tulips sprouted from the ground to turn the holodeck into an idyllic scenery. In the distance, a jagged mountain range appeared, the sharp peaks capped with just the slightest hint of snow. It all looked so…peaceful.

I hated it.

“Hello, Korgin,” I heard someone say behind me, and I spun around to see a human male standing just a few feet away from where I stood. He was mostly bald, the only remaining hairs he had plastered to his head like a greying crown, and a trimmed mustache hung over his mouth. “My name is Dr. Bill, and I’m your friend.”

“Dr. Bill?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes at this holographic asshole. He appeared familiar, like one of those faces that always seem to be on TV whenever you turn it on. Then, it hit me. “You’re Dr. Phil.”

“No, I’m Dr. Bill,” he insisted in that kind but monotone voice. “Intergalactic copyright doesn’t allow the Tranquility Recovery Center to use trademarked—”

“Get the fuck outta here,” I cut him short, a deep laugh rising up my throat. I shook my head. “Is this the best you have for me? An eBay slash AliExpress version of Dr. Phil? This is fucking ridiculous, guys.”

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not one of those assholes who knows everything there’s to know about humans and their stupid TV shows, but even I knew who Dr. Phil is. And, yes, I also knew about eBay and AliExpress. How else was I supposed to get my Wrestlemania Classics DVDs?

“Korgin, my friend,” this Dr. Knockoff continued, “we’re here because of your deep-seated anger.” He waved one hand at the green field, and two plush leather chairs materialized out of thin air. He sat down in one, and then kept on pointing at the other. “Please, have a seat.”

“I rather stand.”

“Please, have a seat.”

“What? I told you that—”

“Please, have a seat.”

“The holograms aren’t fully equipped to deal with all of your responses,” the therapist’s voice came through the holodeck speakers once more. “Just do what he tells you to, Korgin, or else he’ll just keep on repeating the same thing over and over again.”

“This is fucking dumb.”

“Please, have a seat.”

Raking one hand over my face, I finally sunk into my seat. Dr. ‘Bill’ seemed pleased with that. He clasped his hands together and leaned back, crossing his legs as he looked straight at me.

“You can’t change what you don’t acknowledge,” he continued, his smile widening to show his pearly-white teeth. It was starting to creep me out, if I was to be honest. “We teach people how to treat us, Korgin. I’m not going to sugarcoat it here.”

“Is this asshole just going to keep on feeding me quotes from Dr. Phil?” I asked the cameras I was pretty sure were recording me. This time, though, the therapist didn’t offer a reply. The only sound that came from the speakers was that of the false rustling of grass, and the now barely audible Orinoco Flow. Yeah, they were keeping that in the background.

Still, if they were expecting me to ‘let my feelings out’ or whatever, they were in for a surprise. Did they really believe that this shit was going to work? Seriously, if they kept this up, soon enough I’d just ask them to drop me off at the closest Zanthi prison. I mean, forget about being lashed on a daily basis, starving everyday, and having my fingernails ripped off. This…this was torture.

“I can’t help you,” the holographic knockoff psychologist continued. “But you can help yourself.” I said nothing. I just sat there, looking at this asshole with my jaw hanging open. This shit was unbelievable.

Suddenly, he leaned forward.

“Would you be more comfortable with someone else?” He asked me, and his entire being seemed to flicker in an out of existence. Where False Dr. Phil sat, now was a perfect Oprah. “Is this better? Or you would prefer something more like…” As Oprah trailed off, she suddenly turned into Ellen. “Maybe not.”

Back to Dr. Phil, Bill, or whatever the fuck I was supposed to call this thing.

“Interact, Korgin,” the therapist spoke up. “Bare your feelings. Let yourself be renewed with exposing your most intimate fears and—”

And that was it.

Leaning back on the chair, I reached forward and kicked the holographic Dr. Phil as hard as I could. His chair tipped back, sending him straight into the floor, and I immediately sprung up to my feet. With a growl, I jumped over the overturned chair and picked up the holographic psychologist by the scruff of his shirt.

“How about you psychoanalyze this?” I said, and then headbutted him as hard as I could. I felt absolutely nothing, of course, and Dr. Phil’s image simply faded out of existence. That didn’t stop me from picking up the chairs and throwing them into the distance. For good measure, I started kicking at all those stupid tulips, destroying everything that I could in this stupid scenario.

Somehow, that helped.

“This is not right, Korgin,” Livander screamed out through the intercom. “Please, take a seat. We need to discuss what you’re going through!”

“What about we discuss what’s going through your head?” I shouted back. “And if you don’t let me out of here right now, it’s going to be my fist going through your head.”

That seemed to work.

The stupid idyllic scenery flickered out of existence, and I found myself standing in the original holodeck room, its grey and bland walls a welcome sight. If I had to spend a minute more in that stupid The Sound of Music rip-off scenario, I was sure I was going to go out of my fucking mind.

“This is most unacceptable!” Livander strolled into the room, flanked by his security goons, and he started wagging his finger at me. Bad move. The moment he was within reach, I just went for it. I took a hold of his finger and started bending it as far as it would go. “This is assault! You’re harassing me!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, and then simply shoved the guy back. He landed on his ass, clutching his hand to his chest as if he was afraid I was going to bite it off. That was smart of him. It wouldn’t be the first time I chewed someone’s fingers off. “Just stamp the forms, tell the Federation that I’m fine, and let me go. I’m supposed to be out there, killing Zanthi. How’s any of this supposed to help me do that? You want me to discuss feelings with the Zanthi, is that it?”

“You’re going to get your wish,” he replied, and he didn’t even bother hiding his annoyance. I was starting to think this little asshole enjoyed having me around as his pet project. “You want to get out of here? Fine. I’m going to recommend a dishonorable discharge. You’ll never see the inside of a military base ever again.”

“You little shit, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to do absolutely nothing,” I heard someone say, and I recognized who the owner of that voice was right away. It was Trazor, my Commanding Officer. I spun around to see him strolling into the holodeck, his polished and sharp horns gleaming under the lights. He was wearing his uniform, and something about his demeanor made me straighten my back. Fuck, there was nothing more impressive than a Kaleth soldier in full uniform. “Korgin, I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Finally.” I cracked my knuckles. “Did the Admiral see the light?”

“The Admiral doesn’t really want you on active duty,” he said, his tone flat. “And I share the sentiment. You’re just…unstable.”

“Oh, come the fuck on.”

“Wait.” He held one hand up. “There’s a chance for you to prove yourself.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’re terribly short-staffed, with most of our units stationed in sector Zephiron, but we’ve just received word that two Zanthi intelligence officers might have landed on Earth. We need you to go there, track them down, and bring them in.”

Finally, good news.

I was going to see some action.

“Don’t screw this up,” Trazor continued. “I’ve uploaded the briefing to your personal server. Any questions for me?”

“Yeah,” I said. “When do I leave?”

 

Chapter 2

Gale

I didn’t even blink.

I just kept one hand on the keyboard, the other on the mouse, and I let my instincts do the rest. My headphones blared AC/DC to keep me focused and, even though I’ve never been the biggest fan of hard rock, it did the trick.

My right hand twitched as I clicked on the mouse and, on the screen, a soldier’s head exploded from my perfectly timed headshot. A +1 sign flashed underneath my ‘TerrorBear’ username, catapulting it to the top of the leaderboard. Almost at once, those nerds I was playing against started filling up the chat box with their usual bullshit, calling me a cheater and a poser. Others insisted on saying that it wasn’t possible for me to be a girl.

Yeah, I guess I didn’t get the memo that said that it’s impossible for a woman to be a professional gamer. Apparently, if you’re not a waitress who moonlights as a nurse—while keeping a gig as a top model and developing your home cooking skills—you’re not a real woman.

So, yeah, according to those assholes I wasn’t real.

Except I was.

“I’m going to smoke you,” I shouted into my mic, and the constant chatter of the enemy team stopped as they heard my voice. Apparently, they really expected me to be some fatass pretending to be a woman. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

My eyes darted to the little map on the corner of my screen, and I watched as my opponents tried to outflank me. Amateurs. I shouted at my teammates to rush them into position, and then started running backward through the map. Despite how complex it was, I had played in it so many times that I knew it as well as the back of my hand.

“They’re in position B!” One of my teammates shouted, and the rattle of machine gun fire erupted in my headphones. “Get ‘em!”

Moving fast through narrow alleyways and the innards of decrepit buildings, I made my way toward a position in the map that I knew would give me the advantage. Once I was on my perch, I slammed a button on the keyboard and made my avatar change weapons. After that, it was only a matter of carefully taking aim. I shot down my opponents one by one, picking them apart so easily that I couldn’t really blame them for calling me a cheater. But, hey, it’s not my fault that they sucked.

“Better luck next time,” I said into the mic, leaning back on my chair as a show of fireworks erupted on my screen, announcing the end of another successful match. The leaderboard floated up until it occupied my entire field of vision, and I smiled as I saw that I was right at the top. Again.

“We’re too good at shooters,” another one of my teammates said, his voice coming at me over one of AC/DC’s guitar riffs. No longer needing the music, I turned the volume down and massaged my neck. “Maybe we should try something else. You know, just for the challenge. This is getting boring.”

“Winning is never boring,” I replied, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. There was a chorus of agreement as I said that, but some of the guys in my team agreed to play a round of something called Z-Quest. It was a strategy game, and everyone seemed to be obsessed with it.

“Wanna join us, Gale?” One of them asked. “We’re still trying to figure out a way to beat the first level. This thing is insanely hard, and we could use your help.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass.” Stretching my back, I stifled a yawn as I looked at the digital clock on the corner of my computer. It was already late, and I still had to do some accounting and see how much merchandising I had sold that day. It’s hard to have a stable income as a gamer, and I topped up what I got from sponsors and tournament winnings by selling some merch on the side. “I’ve already beat the whole thing anyway.”

“No way!”

“What the hell, Gale?”

“How did you even get past the first level?”

“Seriously?”

Everyone started talking at the same time, and disbelief seemed to be the common thread. Apparently, these guys found that game so hard they couldn’t believe that someone could’ve already beat it.

“Sure,” I finally said, “the game is hard, and it took me a while to figure it out, but I did it. I don’t think I’m going to play it again, though. The damn thing crashed when I finished it, and my computer has been acting weird ever since.”

That’s what you get when you download beta games from unknown sources, I thought, suddenly feeling annoyed at myself for downloading it. Weird glitches had taken over my computer, and it sucked when they happened during one of my matches.

Despite the popularity of Z-Quest amongst the gamer crowd, nobody really knew who had developed the game. The entire thing was enveloped in a shroud of secrecy, and that seemed to make the game even more popular, especially among the conspiracy theory nuts.

Most of the guys in my team were obsessed with conspiracy theories, and I knew that some of them wanted to start a podcast on that crap. After ‘Tinfoil Tammy’, one of the OG conspiracy theorists, decided to shut down her channel, people were going crazy trying to fill the void she left. As for me, I didn’t particularly care about weird theories and conspiracies.

Who the hell believed any of that crazy stuff?

“Alright, guys,” I said over the continuous chatter, “I’m going to head out. We have another match scheduled for tomorrow, so remember to bring your A-game.”

After logging out of the game, I spent a couple of minutes checking my merchandising sales, but it didn’t take long before that got me bored. Instead of keeping at it, I shut the computer down and sprung up to my feet. I spun around and crashed onto the bed, sprawling my limbs to the side as the mattress shifted under my weight.

I was exhausted.

I rolled in bed until I was laying flat on my back and stared at the ceiling for a long time. I loved being a gamer, but sometimes I wondered if spending 16 hours a day in front of the computer wasn’t ruining my sanity. Maybe my parents were right—I should’ve become a doctor or something. It certainly wouldn’t have been impossible for me, as I finished high-school at the top of my class

Don’t get me wrong, though..

I made good money as a gamer. What really sucked was that I barely interacted with anyone in real life. To make it even worse, most of the guys that seemed to be interested in me were neckbeards or those Ed Sheeran types. Yeah, that was a hard ‘no’ from me. I wanted someone with a bit more…substance.

I was already starting to drift off when a loud sound filled my studio apartment. I sat up in bed, wondering if I had imagined it, when I heard it again. Someone was knocking at my door. That was odd: it was already late, and I hadn’t ordered any food, so I had no idea who it could be.

Lazily, I swung myself off the bed and padded my way toward the door. Doing it as silently as I could, I went on tiptoes and looked out the peephole to see a guy in a black suit standing outside my door.

He had brown hair and a sharp nose, but there wasn’t really anything memorable about him. He seemed like one of those types that blends with the crowd seamlessly, the kind that becomes almost invisible once inside a government building.

Having no idea what this could be about, I shrugged my shoulders and unlocked the door. His expression didn’t change as he saw me. In fact, it seemed like he was expecting to find me there. So, this wasn’t just a random salesman. This guy was here specifically for me.

“Can I help you?” I asked, keeping my hand on the door just in case I’d need to slam it shut. For all I knew, this guy could be some kind of creep. This day and age, you just never knew.

“Gale Lee?” He asked me, his tone polite but stilted.

“That’s me.”

“You’ve beat Z-Quest.” I wasn’t sure if he was asking me a question or making a statement, so I just nodded. He seemed pleased with that. “We’ve been keeping tabs on you for a while, Ms. Lee.”

“We?” I arched one eyebrow. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“The government, of course,” he replied, a slight grin appearing on his lips. “Z-Quest might seem like a regular strategy game, but there’s more to it than meets the eye. The game was developed by the government as a test to find the best strategic minds in the galaxy. And, as it turns out, you’re one of them. We’re going to need your skills to keep the galaxy safe.”

“What?”

This was too much.

I had always mocked my online friends for believing all kinds of stupid conspiracy theories, and now of those Men in Black types was standing outside my door. Was I really part of a creepy government test? And did he really say that the galaxy needed me?

No, that couldn’t be.

This had to be a prank.

It just had to be.