A/N: I don't own Wreck-it Ralph, that belongs to Disney! But I do own Tamora's mom, Major Jean Calhoun. Onto the story!
Tamora Calhoun stretched as she got out of bed. She had the body of a fifteen-year-old girl, but she knew it would change once she found her game. She'd been inside Hero's Duty before, and most of her family had been accepted into it. She thought she might have had a cousin who didn't, but she wasn't sure. They didn't talk to the Calhouns. Tamora quickly got dressed and headed out from the barracks.
She walked to the mess hall and found her mother. Major Jane Calhoun was already at a table, a piece of toast in one hand and a stamping block in the other. Tamora got her breakfast – orange juice, eggs, bacon, and pancakes – and stood by her mother, saluting the major, her reddish-brown hair standing out amongst the crowd of plain hair colors. "Good morning, Private Calhoun," the major greeted, casting a slight glance at her daughter, eyebrow raised. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you for asking. Requesting permission to sit, Major," she said.
"Permission granted, Private."
Tamora sat.
"Are you nervous about your assessment today?"
"A little," she admitted. "But a marine never shows fear."
"That's right," the major beamed. "I'm proud of you. You know your father, Mod rest his code, would be proud of you too. You'll do just fine today and you and I will be shooting those damn bugs to kingdom come in no time."
"I sure hope so."
The assessment began about two hours after breakfast, after a slight delay when the arcade's owner had stopped by to count something. Now Surge Protector stood before her and her classmates, all of them wearing plain white t-shirts and white sweatpants. "All right," the Surge Protector said. "First up, we're gonna test the family members of those already in Hero's Duty. Would Michael Kohut, Stephen Green, Brad Scott, Anthony Markowski, and Tamora Calhoun please step forward."
Tamora stepped forward.
"Are you ready, gu- Men?" She asked.
"Ready," Brad said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "We can do this, Tammy."
"You have a bit part in this game, soldier," the major said. "So keep your paws off my daughter."
"Yes ma'am," Scott replied and Tammy felt the weight of his hand disappear.
"Okay. Let's go."
The five teenagers were led into a small room. The major went to the front. "All right, everyone. Last chance. If any of you are too chickenshit to join this game, well, get the hell out."
Tamora stood still.
"Now, before we go in, we're gonna give you a demo's worth of rations and a demo's worth of ammunition. You run out, you're done. Use it wisely."
Tamora was unfazed. In fact, she'd been born for this. She could feel it. She stepped forward to follow her comrades as her mother stopped her. "Tamora, I know you're going to make it into this game. But if you'd rather-"
"I want to stay with you, Major."
When the assessment was complete, Tamora leaned against a cool metal locker. Her body was sticky with sweat. The major walked in. "Congratulations, soldier," she said. "You and your friends have passed and are now welcome characters in Hero's Duty."
"Thank you, Major."
"Now, just as a bit of a rundown….you are going to experience some changes to your body."
"Like what?"
"Well, you're a little young to be a sergeant now."
She blinked. She'd been promoted?
"Overnight you'll experience a sort of….fast-paced puberty. You'll be about thirty years old at the end of it."
"That sounds wonderful," Tamora said. "Thank you for the opportunity, Major."