Chapter 2
Gameplan
There was no transition. One second, I was sitting on Dad’s couch feeling sleepy, and the next I was seated at a stainless-steel table in a white-walled room, before a very dour-looking man in a white and gold military uniform. He had a buzz cut, a scar along his left cheek, and enough wrinkles to say he’d seen some years, but he was still as sharp as ever. His eyes reminded me of my uncle’s friend Trent, a former Navy SEAL.
This man reeked of authority, confidence, and competence.
The chair I sat on was too hard and the room too cold. They matched the man in front of me. I turned my head, looking for a door, wanting to leave as quickly as I could.
There wasn’t one. Every wall was smooth and white. It was unsettling, a technical impossibility that couldn’t exist. I kept looking around, trying to find something that might grab my attention. There was nothing. This was the most sterile environment I’d ever been in. There weren’t even any smells. It was like I was sitting in a white void.
He cleared his throat as I turned back. “Hello, Morgan,” his voice was deep and precise. Each word pronounced with a little too much emphasis to be natural. “I’m General Prime. I am what you would call an AI. I will be assisting humanity in your first season of the Game, and I’m in charge of the distribution of special classes.”
“Am I in the Game?” It seemed like the obvious question to ask.
“Not yet.” A clipboard appeared in his right hand. “Morgan Bartholomew Winchester, you’re here because you’ve won the highest number professional tower defence tournaments on your planet and hold the highest ranking globally for these games. This skillset loosely fits the criteria for becoming a station master. There are only 183 station masters in the initial human allotment. Should you accept this class, you will have a non-standard start and a much greater potential for gaining Tokens. However, you will not be able to respawn if you are defeated by another faction, nor trade with other players individually, nor keep any of the resources you acquire when you lose your station.”
In the space of time it took to blink, I went from being shrouded in a mental calm fog to my usual self. The world was bright, vibrant, and most importantly, unfiltered. Hours of repressed emotion surged through me all at once.
Suddenly, I was furious enough to want to strangle the general.
I leapt to my feet and started shouting. “Where the fuck am I? And what the hell did you do to my head? And why can I only think clearly, now?”
General Prime wasn’t bothered by my outburst. He didn’t even twitch as I shouted at him. He remained too calm to be natural as he looked up at me and placed his clipboard on the table.
“You’re in virtual space. Outside of moderation, class selection is the only time your experience will be virtual. As for your perception, your brain was flooded with chemicals to make you more accepting of the Peacekeepers' invasion. Seeing so many bodies in the streets would have been traumatizing to your population without chemical intervention. Your standard chemical reactions have been reinstated now that you’re no longer exposed to these traumatic scenes. There may be a short period where you adjust.”
“How short?”
My rage subsided as quickly as it appeared, leaving me empty and exhausted. Confusion quickly followed. I wasn’t an angry person. I might occasionally have the random outburst while gaming, but never in real life. The only time I’d ever been this angry was when Mom told me her diagnosis. And that anger was because of helplessness.
This was an unsettling experience.
I ran my hand over the cold, smooth steel, to feel some sort of tactile sensation, trying to centre myself. There was a trick my mother had taught me to focus my mind and be present, but it required fifteen different physical sensations, sights, and sounds. This room lacked the necessary stimuli to pull it off.
“That short,” General Prime finished.
I took a deep breath, as everything came back into focus. Embarrassment quickly followed as I sat down. “I’m sorry for swearing at you.”
General Prime smiled. It was the first human emotion I’d seen from him. “Thank you for the apology.”
“You’re welcome. Ah, why am I here again?”
“You’re here because you fit the skillset for a specialized class called a station master.”
“What exactly does a station master do?”
A holographic image appeared above the table, showing a sphere-shaped space station that reminded me of a Borg sphere. The station sat in the middle of space, orbited by rings that looked like Star Gates. There was nothing to indicate the scale of what I was looking at, but I had a feeling it was big.
“A station master's primary responsibility is to defend their faction’s border. They do this by growing their transit station, upgrading its weapons, armour, and other capabilities to protect the transit ring to their faction’s territory. This sphere in the centre is the transit station. Those rings orbiting it are the transit rings. Everything in between is space. Now beyond each transit ring is a sector. A sector is a collection of solar systems where a species can build their industry and play the Game how they choose. To invade another species’ sector, you must first pass through a transit junction. This is a simple matter if your species controls the transit station protecting the junction, but very difficult if they don’t. Transit stations are capable of upgrading themselves and becoming nearly any shape you can imagine. All you need to do is decide how to spend your resources, similar to how your tower defence games work.”
I could already see a problem with what he said. “They’re not similar. Most tower defence games have multiple towers stopping something from getting from point A to B. I see only one. It’s an entirely different strategy.”
General Prime lost his smile, looking tired, but he nodded that I was right. “We work with what we have, not what we want. You’re not the perfect candidate, but no one on your planet is. New species that enter the Game have a distinct disadvantage their first season, even with every faction being reset. You will have to learn the ins and outs independently. You will likely fail, but you need to try.”
“I’m going to fail?”
General Prime gave me a sad smile as he picked up his clipboard. “Morgan, I’m going to be honest with you. And I promise you I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but you’re part of my B team.”
“I’m your second pick?”
“Yes. The majority of humanity’s station masters come from the military, which makes them more suited to this class. However, you and others tested so high on the theoretical applications that you deserve a place. Do you understand?”
“Not really.”
He glanced at his clipboard. “Being a station master requires two different skillsets. You tested highest on the theoretical applications. The military tested highest on the practical applications. If you can overcome your shortcomings, you will be a great station master.”
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“You’re gambling.”
He shook his head. “I’m making a statistical, chance-based decision, like counting cards in blackjack.”
He knew some of us were going to fail, but those who didn’t were going to offset the failures. “I think I understand what you’re getting at.”
“Good. Now, there are a few things you should know about how transit stations work within the Game. Transit stations, like the one before you, are the only safe harbours for trade. The transit rings hold stable wormholes that lead to sectors controlled by factions, such as the human faction. Factions can safely send trade vessels through to dock with your station and trade without fear of being swindled, killed, or stolen from. You tax these transactions at .1% from both sides. This is one way of gathering the resources and credits you will need to upgrade your station.”
“Is that the only way I can gather resources?”
“No. Factions can also use the transit rings to send through fleets to conquer other factions or attack and destroy your station. Except for your own faction, your transit station will automatically be hostile towards any non-trader vessel that enters the transit junction. This uncontrolled hostility is why other factions will seek to destroy your station, rather than face constant attack while transitioning to the next transit ring. When you destroy an enemy vessel this way, you will be able to harvest it for resources. This situation is where the bulk of your resources will come from.”
“Then trade’s not that helpful to the station?”
“It accounts for less than 10% of its overall resource-gathering. However, it accounts for 90% of the credits it earns.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Credits are used to purchase blueprints and technological upgrades. Resources are what you build these upgrades with. Credits can also be used to purchase resources if a faction other than yours is willing to trade with you.”
“Okay, I follow you so far.” I started to smile. I’d played a few mobile games that were similar to this, so I had an idea of what I was in for. “This sounds kind of fun.”
General Prime launched to his feet and slammed his fist so hard against the table that he left a dent. His change in demeanour was so sudden and violent, I leaned away from him. My heart hammered in my chest.
He glared down at me, all traces of friendliness gone. “This is not ‘fun’. This is war. It is imperative that you maintain control of your station as long as possible. It is humanity’s first line of defence against invasion from the other factions. One of those transit rings will be connected to a human system, which is part of a human sector. If an enemy faction successfully destroys your station, they will build their own station, making it easier for them to invade and remove your people from the Game. If that happens too soon, your people won’t have the Tokens they need to live to see the next season of the Game.”
“We can be kicked from the Game?”
He rubbed his forehead like he was fighting a tension headache. “Should all of humanity’s territory be taken, like your transit station and the other systems humanity controls, every member of your species will lose their current levels and have to begin from scratch as independents, in the independent territories. Independents do not receive faction classes or bonuses. Very few factions will take you on as mercenaries, and those that will, won’t pay you well. If your people continue to play, they will become cannon fodder and little more than slaves to the other factions. It will take ten of your people’s lifetimes to afford a single rejuvenation treatment, making immortality impossible.”
I winced because I was planning to buy a rejuvenation treatment for Buster. “Okay, so this class is sort of a big deal, then.”
“It is extremely important.”
“Am I qualified?”
He shrugged and sat back down. “You’re the best humanity has to offer for this class. The bar is low. I believe you will perform extremely well when it comes to defending your station externally but will likely fail when you must do so internally.”
“You haven’t explained that part yet.”
“I’m getting there. Factions are allowed to conquer your station in two ways. There is the external attack, which requires a fleet to destroy your station, and the internal attack, which only requires a transport ship and a team of challengers. If the challengers are successful, they will take control of your station, whole and undamaged. You cannot attack these transport vessels. So, your only defence against these challengers is the dungeon your station automatically generates.”
“What’s a dungeon?”
He was hitting me with so much information, I was finding it hard to keep up.
“A dungeon is a series of interconnected rooms filled with traps, defenders, and defence systems. In the beginning, one team of six challengers will be allowed to challenge your dungeon at a time. Your objective is to kill them before they can fight their way through to your control room and kill you there. Their objective is to kill you.”
I scratched the back of my head nervously. “This sounds sort of unbalanced. How am I supposed to fight entire factions and hordes of challengers?”
“The station master is one of the most powerful classes in the Game. You will have access to resources, credits, and technology that would normally take millions of players to acquire. The most successful station masters can become more powerful than factions.”
“So, I’m a raid boss?”
General Prime paused, frowning. “I don’t know this concept. Give me a moment to learn the relevant information.”
Nearly a minute passed. The entire time he was statue-still. Being that motionless made him look fake, like he wasn’t real. It creeped me out.
He blinked and then gave a begrudging nod. “Yes, a raid boss is a good way to think of your role. You are more powerful to compensate for the fact you will be attacked en masse, but unlike a raid boss, you have a purpose other than to provide a challenge. You must defend your people.”
“And I have to do this with my station while also defending a dungeon.”
“Yes. Each ship you destroy will provide you with resources, experience, and a small sum of credits. Each challenger will provide you with experience, credits, and technology you could potentially use in your dungeon.”
“Do challengers provide a lot of those?”
“They can. You receive credits for each one you kill, and you are allowed to keep their equipment. They have to pay a bounty of 10% of its value to receive this equipment back. If they don’t pay you, you can break the equipment down for its blueprint, which will improve your dungeon significantly more than the credits will.”
“Okay, so it’s balanced.”
“The moderators do their best to keep it so.”
“Am I going to have a lot of these dungeon challengers show up from the other factions?”
He shook his head. “They’re rare. Factions will only send their elite teams, so the few attacks that you receive will be their best. What is common are attacks from independent guilds trying to gain wealth and power. They will be the ones who try this most often, but they rarely have the same resources that a faction does. If dungeon attacks were your biggest threat, I wouldn’t have chosen you.”
“Good to know.” It seemed like the right thing to say.
“Now, would you like to become a station master, or would you like to begin as a general class with the majority of humanity? I have your replacements currently on hold. Once they commit to a class, they can’t become a station master, so I need to keep them in stasis. But I can’t keep them waiting indefinitely without suffering penalties.”
I wasn’t the biggest fan of responsibility, and this sounded like a big responsibility. But it also sounded like it might potentially be the coolest tower defence game the universe had ever created, and a part of me wanted to play it so badly that I was willing to accept that responsibility as the price of admission. But if I was going to be responsible, I had to be the right person for the job. Dad had taught me that.
“I’m the best candidate for this?” I asked again.
That question was important because if I wasn’t, then I didn’t want to do it.
“Once again, I have evaluated your entire planet, and you are one of the best suited for this task. I will work my way down the list should you refuse.”
“Where do I sit on the list.”
“You are 87th overall, but you’re 1st in several categories that I evaluated everyone by.”
I grinned. “Okay, that’s all I needed to hear. I’m in. Can you give me advice on what I should do?”
General Prime scowled at my cheerful attitude and shook his head. “No. The information I am allowed to share with you while you’re here is limited. Once I leave this room, you won’t be able to contact me except through face-to-face communication, and to do that, you will need a government’s permission, and I will be restricted to being in one place at a time, so informing you further now would make that restriction redundant. All I can say is take your time to decide your path. Gather information and learn about your situation. No one can raise a fleet to challenge you during the 1st Cycle.”
Would you like to become a Station Master?
Yes/No?
I selected, Yes.