Author’s Note: There are ‘perspective-shifts’ in the 3rd person view. This is noted right before the perspective shift happens in the ‘Scene-Transition Block’ (like the one after this author’s note).

Also sorry for the delay (I had this done on Saturday) but apparently the new website updates messed around with my formatting and I needed to redo a lot of it.

Anyway, even more action to enjoy this chapter!

Camp Branding, Florida, the Game

0:45:14 Until First Wave Intermission End

One forty-minute drive later and the group now found themselves in front of a sturdy stone sign. The words ‘CAMP BLANDING JOINT TRAINING CENTER FLORIDA NATIONAL GUARD’ were written on it in big letters. Ironically, the big open spaces and palm trees made the military base more inviting to the group than anything else in the Game so far. The boarded-up Pentagon and the swampy forest they had left behind had been far worse… at least, if one ignored the ‘AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY’ and ‘KEEP OUT’ signs posted nearby.

“Well I have to admit; if there’s any place that could help us beat these stupid tests, it would be a military base,” Farida muttered.

“I don’t think we should bother with the teams for now, not until we know what we are up against,” Maria sighed with a shake of her head. “We should all search for anything that might help and figure out a plan when the ‘Intermission’ runs out.”

Bradley nodded. “Right, let’s split up and find as many useful things as we can,” he agreed. He squinted into the distance. “I can make out a number of army trucks so moving things around shouldn’t be too hard. Once the timer runs out, we’ll meet up at that building with the spire behind the big model jet over there.” He pointed to a grey and white building in the distance.

“Okay, let’s split up and look for clues, gang!” Patricia quipped, giggling in her usual bubbly manner.

45 Minutes Later

Second WaveSpace Pirate Scavengers – Level 65Enemies Remaining:15Time until arrival:1:15:54

Upon seeing the message appear, the group gathered the materials that they could find and brought them to the building Bradley pointed out. The building turned out to be the base’s church: Reynold’s Chapel. While a lot smaller than it appeared from a distance and certainly incapable of storing the things they had found as Bradley initially believed, it did have ample parking and so the group waited for each other in the parking lot.

They arrived quickly one-after-the-other. Bradley arrived first in a Light-Medium Tactical Vehicle—a large truck—filled to the brim with boxes. Patricia followed suit in a Bradley Fighting Vehicle; albeit she clearly had much difficulty in driving it. The controls were not as intuitive as she expected. Shortly after both Farida and Alex came into the parking lot with two Humvees; each one hauling a varied assortment of small arms, motors, rocket launchers and even a towed howitzer. Finally, Maria came some time later; however, she arrived with nothing but a regular car.

“Well someone is certainly the odd one out,” Patricia noted towards Maria with a teasing smirk.

“I determined that bringing anything would be a waste of time,” Maria rationalized with a minute shrug. “That being said, I don’t think any of you will be disappointed in what I’ve found.”

“That’s fine; there were a few things I couldn’t bring either. I suppose that will come into play once we’ve actually put a plan together,” Bradley agreed.

“Seriously though… first it’s bears and next it’s pirates?!” Farida asked rhetorically. “What drugs are the makers of this so-called ‘Game’ on?”

“We shouldn’t underestimate them, whatever it says they are,” Alex replied. “We did that with the bears and look how that turned out. In hindsight, we should have just jumped into a truck and made our way here in the first place.

Remember what Lieutenant Winslow said; when he fought against the aliens, they had shields that could ignore pretty much any attack. This won’t be easy.”

“Don’t forget that we’re fighting against real people this time," Bradley pointed out."They won’t just run at us and flail around uselessly while we take pot-shots at them like dumb animals. Also, look at their ‘level’. We’re still only level 4 yet the Game has us facing off against level 65 players. Even the bears were only level 15!”

“So, we’re going to need a good plan,” Farida glared determinedly, “and I mean a really good plan. I want to live… and if you really meant what you said and Garry really is alright, then I won’t face him with anything less than a complete victory.”

Patricia smirked, nodding her head. “Alright, that’s what I like to hear! Let’s kick pirate ass!”

“Well if everyone’s ready, here’s what I came up with,” Bradley started. “So first I found this warehouse full of High Explosives and…”

Earth Atmosphere, the Game

Perspective – Pirate Captain Va’lakeesh

A small shuttle began it’s decent through the Mesosphere and into the Stratosphere. The asymmetric hull of the craft did not have the aerodynamic qualities necessary to even make it through a thin atmosphere like Earth’s without significant damage, but its advanced shields absorbed all of the heat from the post-orbit aero braking and vented it safely away. Simultaneously, Graviton Generators built into the hull served as ‘Inertial Dampeners’, smoothing-out the craft’s erratic Dynamic Stability. To the crew onboard, the deceleration felt calm and relaxing as the 15 pirates began the process of equipping the necessary tools for a raid. While the worn shield arrays and plasma weapons they wore would be considered ‘trash’ in many civilized circles, even in the hands of a toddler they could take over most primitive worlds with little concern.

‘It’s not every day that a group of ‘vile scum’ is given an offer by Administrators, yet alone one so good,’ Captain Va’lakeesh thought with a sneer; rows of his sharp teeth showing clear through his mandibles.

Like all members of the Ta’leshi species, the Captain consisted of a mix of what Earthlings call: reptile, fish and bird. With brown feathered ‘hair’ on his scalp, nictitating membrane on the eyes, a four-mandible mouth, small gills—a dysfunctional remnant of some ancient ancestor—on the neck as well as scales throughout. The result was something akin to an alien raptor hybrid of both the bird and dinosaur varieties.

Covered himself head-to-toe in a well-worn, black, powered-exoskeleton, however, the only thing obviously different about the Captain compared to a human was his clawed six-digit hands, long reptilian feet, and his strange lurching gait. This way, regardless of whether he had his helmet on, he looked undoubtly intimidating.

‘The only time an Admin gives us an offer is when we start taking too many slaves,’ he sighed, ‘and more often than not it’s usually a trap. But to give us real credits to raid certain coordinates on a newly discovered world for a Tutorial? I know the Admins are puppets for the System and could bend their ‘morals’ if necessary, but that seems almost too good to be true… Still, I did not become Captain of the Petulant Sons Pirates by playing things safe. Heh, maybe the last captain wouldn'y be a slave right now if I was! If I passed up an opportunity like this, I’d never get anywhere in life.’

Under scrutiny one might think that something like slavery would be impossible in the Game. After all, it would be very difficult to enslave someone that could merely kill themselves and revive back somewhere safe at the cost of a few levels or even just log out. Unluckily for the average Player and fortunately for slavers, from the outset of the Game’s creation, the Lords of Life and Predecessors both participated in a horrific war with each other; a war so devastating that a virtual world needed to be created to continue it. During these times, many dangerous criminals threatened the stability of both Factions. To prevent these factions from falling into anarchy, the System created materials which in certain configurations limited a Player’s ability to use Game functions. One of these being the ‘Prisoner Collar’ which: forces a Player’s spawn point to the owner of the collar, removes the capability to use any abilities or implants, and reduces their attributes to their lowest possible values needed to live.

Originally, these were used to enforce prison sentences like the name suggests; otherwise every Player planning on illegal action would simply choose a skillset that could get them out of a prison easily or even just kill themselves and respawn. Nonetheless, the alternate uses of such an item were plainly apparent and taken advantage of promptly in creating slaves.

This being the case, no item within the Game can prevent a Player from simply logging out and never coming back. For many, however, the prospect of never being able to play the Game again could be equally as unconscionable as slavery. The Game provided a job and livelihood for many and so leaving in some cultures becomes akin to a death sentence. Even though the System Pods still provided various lesser forms of entertainment to those enslaved outside the Game, without any meaningful way to interact with their former friends and loved ones, they lived far less happy lives.

To make matters worse, attempting to reveal one’s enslavement to others in the real world often did not help. Slavers knew about that loophole as well and oftentimes stole people away with their faces covered and kept the slaves in permanent isolation. They even occasionally used false information to catch the slave’s loved ones in traps as well. All this combined made the slave trade an almost universally vilified act, and sapient trafficking rings were routinely assaulted by various factions including the Administrators.

Va’lakeesh knew such information intimately. Being too lucrative to pass up, slavery and sapient-trafficking constituted the ‘bread-and-butter’ of many pirate operations.

As the shaking began to slow and the red-hot heat on the ship’s shields began to dissipate, the Captain got up off his seat next to the pilot and made his way to the back. As he did so, the 13 other pirates stood up at attention. While Va’lakeesh would never consider himself ‘military’ in any sense of the word, he still ensured the crew could function in combat. As such he at least wanted to inspect that the others did not have their shields backwards. ‘You would think even pirates would not be that inept,’ the Captain thought with a sigh, ‘until that moron Flekka… we still keep finding bits of her in the hold despite the Game making most of her disappear. At least this Game is all about second chances, so when she respawned, I killed her again for the inconvenience then had her clean up her own mess. Honestly, how do people stay sane amidst such incompetence?’

The crew would find out, much to the Captain’s amusement.

“Alright you Futlats, there are not going to be any mistakes. No accidental plasma discharge, your shields and helmets will remain on at all times, and when you go to the washroom, you will remove your weapon first! The atmosphere of

this planet will kill you in less than a minute; it is full of corrosive oxygen.”

That last point caused the whole group to cringe, none more than El’kreenik whom subtly crossed his legs. 'He probably still has the scarring,' Va'lakeesh laughed internally.

“As that Administrator told us, we have the prestigious duty of being the Second Wave for a bunch of Tutorial brats,” he grinned. “That means this is a Tutorial, so it’s kill or be killed.”

The rest of the group laughed at the thought. ‘Killed by a bunch of children that never played the Game before?! Hah!’ they all thought.

“Of course, it goes without saying that our goal isn’t to kill them,” the Captain added much to the confusion of his crew. “Why? Because we’re going to enslave them of course! I asked the Administrator and apparently enslavement is a valid means of ‘defeating the enemy’. You should have seen the look on that idiot's face! Well it’s too late to undo their offer now! We all know how valuable child slaves are—what with the Game forbidding children under the age of consent from participating—so if we enslave all six of these Tutorial-tots, we’ll be set for life!”

At that, the rest of the crew gave a howling shout of approval and began to add slave collars to their equipment.

“Alright, let’s go over the mission one last time for the slower members of the crew,” he pointedly glared at a few—all of whom withered under his glare. “Now, this planet is called Ee-arth, a freshly discovered planet of the Haxlard smack-dab in the middle of no-mans-land. That means not only will there be no military or rival pirates getting in the way, but the natives are all fresh meat. Not a single one even close to my level in their entire species. The downside, of course, is that I had to bring along you imbeciles instead of our real pirates to keep everything ‘fair’. The upside—for you anyway—is unlike most of your missions you might all actually survive.”

The crew grimaced at that, but did nothing to argue with the captain. They knew the tough life of a pirate, but disobeying got you killed and delayed ones stay at the low ranks for even longer. Compared to their average level of 65, the captain existed in a different weight-class. A level 512 Swordsman/Rogue with a black powered exoskeleton for armor and enhanced shields, they could do nothing against him even if they wanted to… and they did.

“Aww, cheer up you worthless Muklicks; I just gave you some good news! Well how about this? For every slave you bring in, I’ll give you 1 Platinum Mark. How’s that for incentive?”

The others stared on in awe. One Platinum Mark—easily worth 200,000 credits—also came with bonus of granting the user power equivalent to twenty levels; with the added benefit of not appearing like you obtained those levels. For pirates as low-level as them, such a bounty would put them well on their way out of the bottom ranks and closer to the elite like the Captain. The pirate hierarchy often entailed exponential growth assuming one survives the gauntlet of grunt work at the bottom where they existed. Once a pirate achieved a rank high enough to warrant subordinates, they could take all the rewards for themselves, like the Captain, and achieve further greatness, bounty and power often without even lifting a finger. For them, instantly gaining up to 120 levels in a single mission could be the difference between irrelevance and greatness. Such an irresistible promise of power could only come from these more corrupt professions.

With his crew equipped, ready and fully incentivised, he ordered the pilot to touch down on the planet. Soon after, the soft wheeze of landing gear hydraulics and a green light above the rear hatch signaled that pressure-equalization procedures were complete and the door could be opened safely. The Earth’s Nitrogen-rich atmosphere would play havoc with Ta’leshi lungs and so each pirate activated their life-support systems before they departed.

“Alright everyone!” the Captain yelled out one last time, the helmet he wore now covered and giving his voice an artificial twinge, “I want a nice organized pillage. That means no backtalk, no killing each other, and most importantly, no killing the future slaves! Got that?”

The pirates gave a round of nods before he finally punched a large rectangular button behind him causing the rear door to open. The old hydraulics groaned and squeaked, their age very apparent as it slowly lowered the large metal bulkhead to the ground. When it finished, the pirates filed out of the ship and into the field beyond. As they waited for the Captain to give them their orders, they now had time to appreciate their surroundings.

Underneath their feet, a strange porous black stone seemed to be pressed into shape similar to the concrete on most worlds. A large—strangely circular—lake stretched out to the south and east, dotted along the edges with small hut structures. To the north and west great green fields—similar yet different to the aquamarine grass of their world—stretched out with alien trees and solid buildings strewn about it haphazardly.

To a perceptive mind, little features such as mass produced cars in the distance indicated a post-industrial society likely capable of flight, radio communication and the industrial production of arms. To the minds of the pirates however, the lack of a GlobalNet—the Universal Internet—hub or spaceships of any kind clearly indicated a pathetically primitive culture lacking any form of challenge. As such, they did not give the surroundings even a spare glance. Instead they focused talked to each other about what they would do once they got their Platinum Marks.

Almost as if to emphasize that goal, a Game Window appeared for all the pirates:

Tutorial Challengers - Second WaveEarthling Game Candidates – Level 4Enemies Remaining:6Upon touching down within 10.4793 Tal of the enemy, the Second Wave of the Tutorial now commences.

The pirates all laughed quietly to themselves, thinking of how easy it will be to take care of a mere six level four players.

When the captain finally got out of the ship, the situation suddenly changed.

*B-B-B-B-BOOM* *RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT*

Explosions suddenly detonated all around them sending shrapnel smashing against their shields which tried desperately to deflect away. Moments later, cannons rained a continuous stream of powerful incendiary rounds into their ranks; each round capable of tearing through lightly armored vehicles or separating an unarmored person’s upper and lower halves. Even with how sporadic the rounds were, if it were not for their shields, they would have all been mowed-down.

Quickly gauging the situation, the Captain yelled, “Everyone behind the ship! NOW!” causing the crew to scramble behind the powerful shielding of the vessel they arrived in.

Any spacecraft—even a rust-bucket like the pirates’—needed to survive space combat. Its shields could deflect one or two shots from a Haxlard Destroyer’s smaller automatic plasma cannons. As such, the small ammunition being fired against it did nothing. The rounds exploded or deflected harmlessly across the translucent field of energy, providing the crew with a spectacular lightshow.

The bombardment could not last forever and after a minute the barrage of explosions and shells eventually ceased.

Desperate to analyze the situation, the Captain yelled, “Crew! Status Report!”

“Three dead sir!” one of the pirates dutifully responded.

“Three… THREE! How in a Futlats’ Kol’kra did even three of you die from something as pitiful as that!”

Nobody answered at first, fearing the Captain’s wrath, but one of the younger pirates decided to break the silence, saying, “One of the explosions hit Ri’cul directly and Tratlic was complaining to me about his shield and life-support acting up before he… disappeared.” The pirate then looked a little more nervous as the Captains glare got colder. “Uh, also… I think Flekka didn’t have her shields up at the time?”

“Didn’t… have their shields…?” the Captain half-asked, his eye twitching at the thought. “I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU to put your Shri’kakli fucking Bro’kosh-ing shields on at all times!” He swore. “I told you imbeciles at least twenty times! AT LEAST!”

He sighed, groaning that he could not even pinch the bridge of his nose in displeasure with his visored helmet on. “Well, on the bright side, at least that idiot Flekka is dead… again. If any one of you deserve to die, it would be that useless waste of space.”

Moving away from the safety behind the ship, he found himself again under fire by the cannons. This time, however, he ignored the worthless attacks. Now that he rationalized away any fear of the inferior technology being used, he let the projectiles fly harmlessly off his shields, barely making an effect of the energy consumption. He gazed into the distance.

“There! Less than half a Tal away! Those vehicles are the source,” he exclaimed, pointing towards three large metal machines perched just in front of one of the buildings. While their paint-job helped them blend into the environment, one would have to be blind not to follow the sound and sight of cannons firing. He waited for anyone of his crew to speak up, but they remained adamantly in place. They appeared unwilling to go out where their fellow crew just died, even with their captain weathering the attacks in front of them.

“Alright you gutless Muklicks, if one of you doesn’t get out here and get rid of those things by the count of five, you can kiss any Platinum Mark rewards goodbye.”

That got their attention and so one of the more veteran crew jumped out from behind the ship and rushed the machines. Several other crew members—realizing that the machines were probably piloted by the future slaves—followed suit in hopes of receiving that Platinum Mark reward. The machines were far less accurate then they initially thought as the projectiles flew all around them, not one hitting the mark. Once the first pirate got in range, he withdrew his plasma rifle and fired several quick bursts at the machines.

The plasma collided with the metal exterior, causing the turret of the vehicle to warp and buckle; the guns and much of the upper metal frame of each of the vehicles were melted to slag. The projectiles—now colliding with the inside of the gun barrel—exploded in the vehicle, permanently removing their ability to continue attacking. With all three vehicles now disabled the remaining pirates too cowardly to leave the safety of the ship now slowly and shamefully grouped up with their Captain to observe the results.

The six pirates that went up and destroyed the machines split up into three groups and climbed on top of the turrets, using small plasma-cutters to sheer off strips of the outer hull. “Jeez, I hope those stupid brats didn’t die yet,” one of the pirates grumbled, “I really want that Mark.”

“You idiot,” another replied. “If they were dead, the Game Window would say so! Now hurry up and-“

***BOOOOOOOM***

Storage Facility South Rooftop, Camp Blanding, Florida, the Game

Perspective – Bradley Cooper

Second WaveSpace Pirate Scavengers – Level 65Enemies Defeated:6Enemies Remaining:6

The explosion could be seen for miles in all directions and so Bradley and Maria—the defensive team—had an eyeful lying down on the gravel roof on the other side of Kingsley Lake, three miles away from the epicenter.

300lbs of Plastic Explosive, stuffed between two 2000lb conventional bombs were placed into each of the three Bradley Fighting Vehicles before they were lined up to attack the alien pirates. The civilians did not know where the pirates would appear and so upon the pirates’ arrival the tanks were out of position. The aliens spent such a long time filing out and organizing themselves though that Alex, Patricia and Farida—the offensive team—maneuvered the tanks into position before the enemy bothered to check their surroundings. The camouflage netting and paint on the vehicles did not hurt their chances either.

Once in position, the three evacuated, leaving Bradley to use his Connect ability to communicate with the smartphones he soldered into the control panels of the vehicles fire-control systems. With the phones several miles away, he realized in addition to the ability to communicate small pieces of information, there also came an added vague sense of direction and distance to the device he communicated with. When he had used the ability on the phone before, they were too close together to notice the difference.

While the phones gave him remote control of the gun, video cameras mounted inside the turret gave Bradley a view of the action. In this way, the group could fight without ever being in danger. Bradley sent simple commands to the smartphones telling the BFVs to fire their payload of TOW Missiles and 25mm cannons at the enemies. Unfortunately, he did not have enough time creating a better interface. As such, once they started attacking, he could not adequately follow their movements.

“I still don’t know how you were able to do that,” Maria stated, putting her laptop away. The cameras has sent their video information to the laptop, but with the three cameras gone, the laptop served its purpose.

With the first part of the plan finished, they had overstayed their welcome and so the two of them quickly got up from the roof of the building and began to make her way down a ladder to the ground.

“What, you think my ability is ridiculous?” Bradley scoffed, following Maria down the ladder. “That coming from Miss ‘reads-technical-manuals-in-seconds’. Not only could you describe to me practically every circuit in the fire-control system after you skimmed the schematics, but you also learned enough about explosives to do that!” Bradley pointed at the three mushroom-like clouds in the distance. The explosions still had yet to fully disperse.

“Still,” Maria huffed, “you were able to do all that in just a few hours. Don’t play that off like it was nothing.”

“I could solder up a makeshift cellular interface in University; that’s not exactly Rocket Science," Bradley denied. "Most of the time making a working prototype is typically spent coding to anticipate the variety of protocols and things like reducing power consumption or increasing range. My ‘Connect’ ability does all that for me so it is much faster. That's all.”

"Still, now that two-thirds of them are already done for it’s just a matter of mopping up the rest."

“You say that like it’s going to be easy,” Bradley sighed, stepping off the ladder after Maria and running towards the Humvee parked next to the building. “The plan was for those tanks to get rid of all of them,” Bradley reminded. “How the hell does a person survive 25mm Incendiary rounds to the face?! The BFV's User Manual said those could go clean through armored vehicles; we knew those shields were scary, but that’s just insane! Sure there are only five left, but those five aren’t going to fall for the same tricks again.”

“We still have Plan C,” Maria pointed out, “although it seems certain that Plan B is out-the-window now. Still, even if that doesn’t work, my plan is almost foolproof.”

Bradley raised an eyebrow at that, “…except for all the conditions that need to be just right, if the thing even works… which as you know was never tested. That seems like the exact opposite of foolproof.”

“Well yeah, but if it works no dirty tricks or shields could possibly stop it,” Maria smiled. Bradley noted that she did not smile much, and so when she did, it seemed out of place and wrong… he decided he did not like it; it could only be a portent of bad things to come.

He started up the car and after Maria took the passenger seat next to him, he began driving his way to the Camp Blanding Storage Facility. “Let’s just hope that Alex’s ‘Sixth Sense’ ability really is as good as he claims. Against five pissed off space pirates, he’s going to need it. Most of Plan C rides on it.”

Florida National Guard Military Academy, Camp Blanding, Florida, the Game

Fifteen seconds after BFV Explosions

Perspective – Patricia Davis

“Everyone in the Humvee, now!” Alex yelled, throwing the driver-side door open and jumping into the seat. Patricia and Farida followed soon afterwards, fully understanding the seriousness of the situation.

“Crap-crap-crap-crap-crap!” Patricia muttered getting into the .50 cal machine gun position on top of the car. “Those big tanks didn’t even scratch them!”

“We need to re-evaluate the plan,” Farida added, getting into the passenger seat. “Plan B is right out. That plan was for if we couldn’t set up the tanks in time and needed to take them out personally, but we don’t have anything here that could stop them. If cannons can’t hurt them, small guns or rockets probably won’t. It's not worth the risk.”

“Then it’s all up to Plan C then, which means we need to survive long enough to get to the Storage Facility,” Alex concluded, putting the pedal to the metal and speeding away. “Hopefully they don’t have any way of detecting us or-”

An explosion cut Alex off as the spaceship the pirates used fired a rocket which detonated, destroying much of the National Guard Training Academy behind them. The resulting explosion sent large flaming sections of concrete crashing around them.

“Less talking, more fleeing!” Patricia cried out.

Onboard the Pirate Spaceship, Camp Blanding, Florida, the Game

Perspective – Pirate Captain Va’lakeesh

“You idiot!” the Captain yelled, smacking the back of the pilot’s head. “You’re lucky that those rockets were calibrated to ship-exhaust or you could have killed them! Not only that, but those warheads aren’t cheap!”

The Captain—realizing that these ‘Ee-arthlings’ had set a brilliantly executed trap for them to fall into—decided he had enough of underestimating them and went back into his ship to determine their locations with its sensors. Now onboard and tracking the fleeing vehicle, the ships sensors began to hone in on their heat signatures, filtering out any atmospheric disturbance or physical obstruction. Once it got a lock, the Captain would know where the slaves would be at any time, even within buildings over a hundred Tals away.

“But sir!” the pilot protested. “They killed most of the crew! If we don’t-” His protest halted as the Captain grasped the man’s neck.

“You are to follow my exact orders, understand?!” the Captain growled, receiving an urgent, pleading capitulation from the pilot. Releasing the pilot’s throat, he added, “It is because we lost so many that this venture has to turn a profit, and that means they must be alive before we collar them.”

He took control of the ship’s lasers and used the target assistance to fire at the vehicle. It missed.

“What?! It missed?” he stared in disbelief. Normally the lasers were useless because they were often not powerful enough, but the Captain had never experienced a laser guided by a computer ever miss before. He fired again and again; this time, the vehicle running through some trees in the forest off the road.

“Argh! Okay enough playing around! No targeting assistance, I’ll handle it myself.” Taking manual control, he fired a continuous beam, this time cutting the vehicle clean in two. No messages appeared which confirmed zero fatalities.

“There. Surgical, precise and with all the slaves still intact.”

With a smile that exposed the reptile creature’s rows of sharp teeth, he added, “I’ll do the honors of informing the slaves of their future destiny.”

Humvee wreckage, 0.2 miles North of Avenue B and Leesburg St, Camp Blanding, Florida, the Game

Perspective – Patricia Davis

After the laser separated the engine compartment from the passenger one, the two pieces flew wildly out-of-control. The former piece kept on going, flinging itself into the forest and smashing through a tree before being reduced to a burning hulk of debris. The latter crashed into the ground before flipping over and skidding—upside down—into the ditch by the road. Both Alex and Farida experienced whiplash in their seats and immediately passed out. Patricia—whom sat unbuckled on the machinegun—flew from the remains of the vehicle and broke one of her arms in the resulting tumble. Unlike the others buckled to their seats though, she did not have the luxury of falling unconscious because of it.

“Argh!” she cried as she crawled to her knees. Her body painfully reminded her not to try and move but her panicked mind sought for her to desperately get away to somewhere or to try and help the others.

“I think you should rest. You will need all your strength for what is to come,” a male voice spoke out in the distance.

She whipped her head to find the owner of the voice only to find her neck in as much pain as the rest of her body. She whimpered softly to herself but gritted her teeth through the pain. ‘I won’t give any of these pirate bastards the benefit of any more screaming,’ she thought defiantly. ‘Urgh, I just need to logout… I’ll ‘die’ or whatever, but whatever. It’s not worth this pain. I won’t give them that pleasure either.’

However, try as she might, she could not log out.

In that time, the thing appeared before her; he wore a helmet with a small eye-slit visor; his heavy black sophisticated armor shimmered with energy. Despite his perfect English, he could not be considered human. He had six digits on each hand and grossly elongated feet.

“By your expression, I have to wonder; did nobody inform you about what the Tutorial entailed?” the armored alien asked, the suit’s radio giving the voice a slightly artificial tone. “You cannot log out of a tutorial until it is complete. After all, the System needs to gauge your abilities,” the man added; the last bit he gave in a teasing tone.

She gave the alien a horrified look. “B-but that would mean-”

The alien laughed. “Haha! Oh your expression! No, the System is not malicious unfortunately; I cannot torture you or the like no matter how much I would so enjoy it. The moment it decides I have ‘won’, you will be ‘defeated’ and will log out. Nobody would ever participate in a Game that could hold a person as a hostage like that. No, the System isn’t malicious… but it isn’t kind either.”

The alien began to walk towards the woman. Gathering up her psionic energy, she fired a ‘Thunderball’ at the armor. The ball of energy collided with a shimmering field around the alien but dissipated into nothing. “W-what? Why?!” she demanded.

“Admirable… just like those evasive maneuvers against my lasers now that I think about it,” the alien noted. “If someone told me Tutorial brats could do something like killing half a pirate crew or to be able to perform Psionic attacks, I would have laughed before stabbing them in the gut for the insult… Nonetheless, these theatrics are all ultimately a waste of time. Let’s move on to the Crescendo, shall we?”

He took out a thin piece of metal from a compartment in his suit and leaned down to the paralyzed woman. With her injuries, she could do nothing to avoid what he intended to do but she struggled, trying to move away. Ignoring her attempts, the armor-clad alien slipped the metal around her neck and snapped it shut. A Game Window appeared:

Captain Va’lakeesh of the Petulant Sons Pirates has enslaved you.By placing a Prisoner’s Collar onto your neck without the authorization of a governmental body, you have been enslaved under his ownership.Status: EnslavedSo long as you remain under Va’lakeesh’s ownership, all Abilities, Powers, and Attributes have been removed unless permission to use them is given.Event Notice:You are now defeated. Logout is now accessible.[tr][/align]

She looked over the message in abject horror until she read the final note. “Wait, you’re an idiot!” she exclaimed, instantly regretting it as she coughed; her lungs were burning in pain. “I-I can just logout. This means nothing!”

The alien sneered behind his helmet. “Logout for all I care! I got what I wanted,” he replied. He continued in a pleased tone, saying, “Now that you are enslaved, you will always respawn to me when you log back in; weak and pathetic. There will be no escape and so you will never play the Game again… unless you find slavery appealing.”

The sick look on Patricia’s face gave the alien all the answer he needed and he laughed. “No, the unique thing about slavery is the wondrous transformation! It changes an ordinary Player into an item! When you log out, your consciousness—your 'soul'—will leave… but your virtual body and mind will stay. A virtual copy of yourself will remain here to be used however I desire. I hope you live with that notion for the rest of your life… or whatever pathetic existence you lead beyond this Game.”

“Screw you, you bastard!” Patricia retorted venomously. “You and this Game can both rot in hell.” With that, she thought the command and her consciousness left the Game.

Game Capsule D-1410092186, The Game Clandestine Facility, ??????, Earth

As her consciousness returned to the Real World, she only now realized just how much pain her body experienced. With all the pain suddenly gone, her body felt as light as a feather. The strange gel that had enveloped her now slowly retreated and the pod’s enclosure began to open. As light streamed in through the cracks and her eyes adjusted, she began to cry; thankful that the whole ordeal being finally over.

“Patricia?” a passing doctor asked, coming into the room. “You weren’t scheduled to be out of the pod just yet,” he added, entering the room and grabbing some of the diagnostic equipment from off one of the shelves. “What happened? Are you injured?”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” she snarled, grabbing the cuff of the doctor’s coat as tears streamed down her eyes, “I’ll tell you what happened and then you better get that damn Major back in here! I’ve got to give her a piece of my mind!”

Humvee wreckage, 0.2 miles North of Avenue B and Leesburg St, Camp Blanding, Florida, the Game

Perspective – Pirate Captain Va’lakeesh

“Wait, why can’t I log out? The Game Window said I could log out!” the virtual female slave stated in disbelief, tears welling up in her eyes. “This… this isn’t real… this can’t be real!”

“That’s because you aren’t real, idiot,” Captain Va’lakeesh spat, his claws tapping at a computer on his wrist, sending a powerful jolt of electricity through the Prisoner Collar on the slave’s neck, causing the object to fall unconscious.

“Wait, so that Ee-arthling isn’t real anymore Shi’vla?” one of the pirates, Irohka, asked another of the crew.

“Well, not in any way that should matter,” the other one, Shi’vlaikar, sneered. “The slave’s just a virtual copy in the Game now. Her real body and mind just woke back up in a pod somewhere. Honestly I don’t see the appeal; a virtual plaything is just a bunch of code. You can buy 1s and 0s like that from companies on the GlobalNet. Why slavery is such a big thing, I can’t understand.”

“Then why do people pay so well for them then?” Irohka inquired further.

“I just said I don’t know idiot! Why does anyone waste their money?” Shi’vlaikar retorted rhetorically. “Probably some people think they're more ‘real’ because they are based on someone else, even if it’s only an approximation by the System and doesn’t have all their memories. Maybe some people are just Bro’kosh and like taking away the ability to play the Game from others. Maybe they secretly hope they’ll log back on and be their slaves for real. I don’t know.”

“But if that would-”

“Look enough pointless chatter!” the Captain yelled, punching both of them in the guts, causing them to double over even with their armor and shielding. “Go get the others and gather these slaves. I’ll get back to the ship and find those last remaining brats.”

Despite the pain, the pirates quickly got to work.

‘The Captain is pretty horrifying when he’s angry,’ they thought.

----Status Window----

Spoiler :

[tr]Status WindowName:Bradley CooperSpecies:Human (Earth)Level:4Experience:0/1000Class:UndeterminedAlignment:Neutral (+0) / Order (+1)Age:26Gender:MaleRenown:0Notoriety:0----Regenerative Attributes----Health:94/95Health Regen:21.55/hrPsionic Energy:1/1Psionic Regen:0.82/hrShield Energy:N/AShield Regen:N/AStamina:80/85Stamina Regen:812.09/hr----Attributes----Strength:??+20Agility:??+20Intelligence:??+20Willpower:??+20Charisma:??+20Perception:??+20Endurance:??+20Luck:??+20----Resistances----Physical:??Mental:??Psionic:??----Career----Titles:NoneOccupation:Earth Coalition – Civilian Employee – RecruitCurrent Quest:Tutorial – Survival Test – Second Wave----Currency----Currently Held:0 CreditsCurrently Owed:0 CreditsMarks:0P, 0D, 0GAbility Points:0----Faction Standings----Earth Coalition:EmployeeHaxlards:Neutral*Administrators:Privileged*

----General Ability Window----

Spoiler :

General Ability WindowAbility Name:Ability Rank:Ability Proficiency:Ability Rarity:Connect (Basic)GG-928,437,115DAllows communication of single integer numbers, characters and regulatory tags to devices. Does so using the Cybernetic Interface Chip’s Regulatory Identification and Human-Computer Interface’s Wireless

Perception abilities.Ability Name:Ability Rank:Ability Proficiency:Ability Rarity:Mind SurvivalGF-2,047,791,312GThe ability of the mind to persist through overwhelming mental trauma. Necessary for resistance against abilities which damage the mind or to use such abilities on oneself.Ability Name:Ability Rank:Ability Proficiency:Ability Rarity:Pistol ShootingGG-1,844,516,229GThis ability maps the progress of firing a pistol. A higher rank indicates a greater lethality.Ability Name:Ability Rank:Ability Proficiency:Ability Rarity:Rifle ShootingGG-2,000,860,238GThis ability maps the progress of firing a rifle. A higher rank indicates a greater lethality.Ability Name:Ability Rank:Ability Proficiency:Ability Rarity:Regulatory IdentificationGG-214,735,418EThe Cybernetic Interface Chip’s ability to identify the regulatory standards, encoding, decoding and commands used by a device to communicate.Ability Name:Ability Rank:Ability Proficiency:Ability Rarity:Wireless Perception (Basic)GG-1,642,194,713DThe ability to perceive wireless communications actively searching for connection. To avoid oversaturation, the Human-Computer Interface does not transmit secure communication or ordinary electromagnetic waves to the

Cybernetic Interface Chip.

----Implant List Window----

Spoiler :

Implant List----Biological Implants----Implant Name:Implant Rank:Implant Proficiency:General Status EnhancerDN/AProvides a boost of 20 points to all attributes.----Mechanical Implants----Implant Name:Implant Rank:Implant Proficiency:Cybernetic Interface ChipDG-220,861,958Connected directly to the brain, when interfaced directly with a computer, implant, or memory module, this chip converts thought into the intended electromagnetic input expected by the device. Higher ranks improve the data

rate, allowable frequency range, and provide higher levels of security.Implant Name:Implant Rank:Implant Proficiency:Human-Computer InterfaceDG-1,594,288,749Allows direct cognitive access to a computer system via wireless communication, allowing the brain to issue commands directly to the device. Can only guarantee a proper interface with devices of equal or lower rank.

Author's Note 2:Just to add to this, I also made a picture of the Pirate Captain (I have a hard time conceptualizing an alien species unless I draw them first). See picture below:

----Pirate Captain Va'lakeesh----

Spoiler :