On the third day, I woke up and once again, the bed had worked wonders.

  Damn. I think I will have trouble getting up every morning. This thing is way too good. How could I have lived without it before? Earth really is technologically lacking.

  I chuckled. Listen to yourself, Nico. A couple days in space and you’re already badmouthing your homeworld.

  I managed to get up and started what I had decided would be my routine from now on.

  First, some comfortable workout clothes.

  I scanned the wardrobe’s content, delighted that this world contained almost everything I had acquired in the game. There were plenty of outfits to choose from and I selected a simple grey set that looked appropriate for exercising and comfortable.

  I started a light jog, full of excitement and made my way to the medical bay. I may have criticized the practicality of having this critical room so far from the hangar and the foyer, but this time, I was happy about it. It gave me a chance to do a little jogging. My steps were eager. I had a little mantra to repeat on my way.

  I have a good feeling about today. No more drama. I will exercise, train and nothing unexpected will happen.

  I did my health check and the results made me pause. My eyes widened a little.

  Bone density: 87% of optimal.Muscle mass: 76.5% of optimal.Neural conductivity: 92% of optimal.

  A half percent gain in muscle mass. Just from good food and rest. I had already regained a half percent. I did a little victory dance. I knew it. Today is a good day and nothing bad can happen.

  After that, I raced to the gym. I was so excited that I had trouble pulling up the fitness trainer app on my holobracer. My first try clicked on the station’s map. I laughed it off and started the warm up, while a 3D projection of a cartoonish man showed me exactly what I needed to do.

  Two hours later. My body screamed. Why on Earth was I ever eager to do this? I think I’m going to die. I was laying on the floor next to a rowing machine, where I did my last exercise for the day. I was sweaty, my legs were shaking and my arms were stiff and aching at every move. The training had been grueling. Only my gamer brain and its competitive spirit kept me alive. The trainer had the genius idea to gamify the session. Not only did it track the number of repeats for each exercise, but it showed me bronze, silver, and golden medals depending on how much I achieved. Of course, I fought through the pain and aimed for gold each time. I am so stupid, sometimes. Are just shiny achievements enough to get me going ?

  The holobracer bipped. I grunted as I willed my very stiff neck to move.

  Current streak: 1

  Weekly training achievement: 1/7

  Gain gold medals each day for seven days in a row to unlock a new special recipe for the food synthesizer.

  I sighed. I’m doomed. This thing already knows me too well.

  I crawled toward the gym’s exit. When I reached a bench, I used it to get on my knees, then, slowly, I managed to stand up. Rhaaaaa putain! This hurts so bad.

  The walk to the shower was, blessedly, not far. I walked slowly, on wobbly legs. Every piece of furniture I encountered became a welcomed support. Finally, under the hot shower, I started to feel better.

  I put on my regular clothes, my gun in its holster on my hip and went to the kitchen.

  After I selected my meal, seafood lasagna, I was surprised to have to add new cartridges to the ChefPro. At first I thought I had already emptied the ones inside, but no, it wanted new ingredients.

  Grumbling, I started to search for those mysterious new boxes, feeling the deep ache in my muscles. Once located, the cartridges were different from the ones I used previously. Only a name, in straight clinical letters and only one logo, the same on each box. Actually, it was the same on every box in that cupboard. It looked like a bandaid, with a syringe and a pill crossing over it. Like skull and crossbones of a pirate flog, but with a pill and a syringe instead. The names were not very informative: Supplement 21B/Atlas, Supplement K12.

  While eating, I used my bracer to inquire about those and was delighted to find they were dietary complements to improve training efficiency and reduce post-workout pain. Oh thank god there is something to help with the pain. I heard that people who go to the gym often end up hooked to the pain, this makes no sense. How can anyone learn to like feeling like this?

  I had planned to go directly to the Mahkkra for flight training. I had planned a five hour session. I was really looking forward to it, but felt I was in no condition to properly fly a spaceship, so I instead headed to the rec room and played an arcade game. A little spaceship at the bottom of the screen had to shoot incoming waves of enemies. It was fun, but I wasn’t very focused and did poorly, though I still held the high score.

  Is it cheating to get a high score just because I am the first one to play on this machine? Meh. A win is a win.

  After that, I made my way to the Mahkkra’s cockpit. Sitting in the pilot’s chair, I was browsing the ship’s systems. I’m not procrastinating, I’m studying the ship. Something I should have done before that first catastrophic flight.

  And I found a gem. The ship had a simulation mode. I could pilot it without actually piloting the ship. The simulation was projected to the cockpit’s transparent walls, all the instruments would simulate realistically, using actual flight data and the ship’s specs and more: the artificial gravity would simulate accelerations.

  Now we’re talking. Let’s fire this up. I want to immediately go to fighting pirates, but basics first. Basic controls it is.

  I spent two hours doing only accelerations and decelerations, then turns, dives and climbs. It may sound boring but I love that kind of stuff. I was finding my marks and I could feel the progress. It reminded me of my days in the beta test of Life Among the Stars. So many years ago. I smiled. I think I missed those early days. There was wonder. Everything was a struggle, but it was rewarding to overcome these obstacles

  After two hours, I felt confident enough to enable the anchorfield thrusters, my second propulsion system.

  Oh boy I’m glad I did not activate those on my previous flight. I would have killed myself for sure.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  In the game, controlling the ship was simple, like using a keyboard and mouse. In real life, I had to actually control the engines, their vectors. Saying it was complicated would be an understatement. I relied heavily on the ship’s Virtual Intelligence, but even then, I needed absolute focus and this second propulsion system suddenly added many new parameters in an already very complex equation.

  After only thirty minutes, I deactivated them. I definitely need to master them. They seem very powerful, but I need to be smart and not rush into things. Small steps make for great foundation or something like that.

  I switched to an easier simulation: take off and landing. For the next hour and a half. Yes, an hour and a half of only taking off and landing. And I enjoyed every minute of it. Not really surprising. During the beta, there was that time when a new patch made flying between stations impossible. I spent a whole week only doing take offs and landings, while chatting with my friends. This is nothing compared to that week.

  By the end of the session. I felt like I had finally mastered those two critical maneuvers.

  The power of grinding!

  Happy with my flight training, I went back to the kitchen, had another wonderful meal and immediately went to sleep. Sore and exhausted, but happy.

  That was a very productive day. I feel like I found the perfect routine. From now on, I will stick to that schedule.

  On the fourth day, I woke up completely refreshed. I did not know if it was the bed or the food supplements or both, but I was ready for another day of grinding, for my health recovery and flying mastery.

  The medical check up provided me with another piece of good news: bone density and muscular density both had increased by a full percent. And neural conductivity had gained a half percent. I completely dedicated myself to physical exercise, acing all the challenges the trainer came up with. I still felt horribly sore and aching after that, but I was riding on my health check progress. Flight training also went well. Grinding basic maneuvering with each propulsion system independently, then take off and landing for the last hour. An easier, familiar exercise to end up on a positive note.

  Exhausted but feeling fulfilled, I went to bed.

  I found my rhythm. From now on, it will be smooth sailing until I am ready to leave and face the galaxy.

  The fifth day was, of course, when everything went sideways. It started well enough. A half percent increase in bone and muscle densities. I aced the physical training. But, instead of playing arcade games, I decided to make my post lunch break more productive. And what could be both productive and fun? Shooting.

  I was walking around with the starburst, my trusty legendary weapon, attached to my hips. I thought I should at least know how to use it.

  After giving it some careful thought, I decided on the geology lab. It had many samples of rocks, some very big. I chose a big block of granite. It was one meter wide and almost two meters high. This could be used as a pillar in Stonehenge. First, I positioned myself 5 meters away. But it felt too close. Who shoots at five meters? Nobody. It’s lame. So I stepped back, giving myself the whole length of the lab. About 12 meters.

  I aimed carefully, closing my left eye. I squeezed the trigger. There was a small whirring noise and a bolt of superheated plasma shot forward. It missed the big block of stone and punched the wall. There. Was. A. Hole. In. the. Wall!

  I stared at it in disbelief. I had missed it. And there was a hole in the wall. A hole. With the void of space on the other side. Then, it was chaos. The bright ceiling lights turned off and the red lights of emergency ignited, while sirens started blaring. Coming back to my senses, I looked around, eyes wide, uncertain as to what to do.

  My eyes fell on the door, the only part of the room with white light and I started running. No longer caring about stiff muscles or aching joints, I ran outside of the lab and, instinctively, punched the emergency sealing on the other side.

  I leaned on the wall in the corridor, then slid to sit on the floor. Panting, hands shaking, I replayed the events in my head. Panic and fear gave way to fury. I clenched my fist and punched the floor, yelling; “Nicolas! You stupid frack! Why? Why do you keep putting yourself in danger by doing stupid shit without thinking things through!”

  Yelling, expressing my anger helped a bit. I went on: “Guns and space stations do not mix! Shoot outside or in a firing range or don’t shoot!’.

  The fury drained away, leaving only exhaustion. I sagged against the wall, my body trembling as the adrenaline crash hit me like a wave.

  After I calmed down, I went to the operations center. I needed to assess the damage.

  Sitting at one of the consoles, I brought the logs, the surveillance feeds, everything I could find about it.

  The good news? I had never been in actual danger. The station detected the breach and immediately activated the emergency shield around the lab. The venting of atmosphere was very small and the actual loss in pressurization was negligible. The repair bots were already working on the repairs. In two days, the wall would be as good as new. Thank you past me for splurging on every feature you could find. This place had now saved my life twice. But I was worried. Why did I constantly put myself into those situations?

  I wanted to get back to my schedule and start my flight training. I was sure being in the Mahkkra would help with my nervous state. But instead, I thought long and hard about how I could increase my chances of survival. I could not trust my judgement. I needed a better solution.

  I looked into every app on my holobracer. Nothing seemed useful.

  I brought up the station’s interface. I first looked into the surveillance and defense systems. No luck.

  Then the inventory. I was browsing the list of stuff I had. I am rich. I don’t know about money. But I have a vault full of rare and precious metals. It would take me several trips with the Rochefort to transport all of it, but I was sure this would fetch a good price anywhere.

  I had every weapon imaginable, and armors to match. I paused, thought about it, then resumed. I did not think I could walk around in armor all day. I continued scrolling, and found the perfect solution.

  Personal shield, tech level 17. I started reading the specs and whistled in awe.

  Creates a personal shield around the body. Slows down incoming projectiles, dissipates energy blasts. But the cherry on the top: it was also a vacuum suit, with radiation shielding.

  After a quick trip to storage, I had it in hand. About the size of a pack of cigarettes, with a special clip to attach it to my belt. Awesome. Now I’m ready for anything.

  Proud of my great wisdom, I decided I was now ready to complete my shooting training. No alarm bells in my head this time. Because I had a plan.

  I made my way to an exit hatch, activated the personal shield and opened the airlock to the outside. Before leaving, I checked the emergency close button, I checked my shield and my gun. I took two steps outside, checked that the airlock was still open then started my training. I knew that from this exit, there would be no part of the station visible in front of me, so I could freely shoot.

  I aimed for a big rock, about five meters away and shot. I missed it. Again.

  I waited for an alarm, any emergency, but nothing happened. Grinning, I aimed again and shot.

  The gun was hard to aim with, but after an hour, I was hitting my target at ten meters about half the time.

  More sessions would be needed, but I wanted to be good at shooting too. I probably never would be as good at it as I was at flying, but not everything can be solved by flying.

  The rest of the week went without a hitch. I stuck to my routine, with shooting practice instead of using the rec room every other day. My health checks were showing steady progress and I was feeling better and better after each fitness session.

  On the seventh day of my training streak, I was in the kitchen waiting for the ProChef to finish creating my special reward meal from the fitness trainer. The name meant nothing to me, and there was no preview image, so I was pretty excited. Curious to see what delight I would get.

  The synthesizer finished with a chime. I opened the door and took a warm bottle. I started drinking and immediately spit out what was in my mouth. It tasted like dirt with a hint of chocolate. Gross.

  It was disgusting. A protein shake! This damn trainer gave me a fracking protein shake!

  That’s it. Tomorrow, I’m going on strike and not exercising! A reward should be a reward, not this disgusting fake chocolaty thing