Hey, my readers and... readettes? I'm glad you all liked my story (especially one of you in particular. I'm talking to you, Spice! I love you!) and I hope you continue to read on.

I'd like to point out that the differences in the storyline are going to happen mostly because of Calhoun's change in backstory, rather than gender. Our history is what defines us, and Camoran Calhoun has a different history than Tamora Calhoun, which means that he is not just her spear counterpart... okay, technically he is, but that doesn't mean they're exactly identical with just the names and pronouns swapped.

Plus, you've (probably) seen the movie. Why would you want to read the chapters in this story that are about the events of the movie if it's exactly the same as in the movie? Sounds kind of boring, which isn't something I'd want to put in my story.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I had writing it!

Calhoun realized quickly that 'Markowski' wasn't one of his men. Markowski might not be his favorite soldier, but he knew him well enough to realize when somebody was pretending to be him. Besides, the mask might blur this intruder's face, but it couldn't hide his gut. Still, he couldn't interrogate this impostor just yet, not while game time is going on. Whoever he was, he can have his time playing soldier until the all clear. But then? His behind was Calhoun's.

It was all the worse that this pretender was an utter failure of a soldier. Markowski might be a bumbling idiot, but he could still do his duty, unlike this bumbling idiot. He may have had his dumb moments, but he would never cower between the first person shooter.

Then, after only the first game, Calhoun received word from Kohut that Markowski's armor was dumped by the station, the imposter nowhere to be found. Calhoun grinded his teeth angrily, enraged at the idea of not only someone trying to impersonate one of his soldiers, but then giving up and running away to their mama with their tail between their legs after one measly little cybug attack. No matter, they still had his voice clip, general information based on his body taken by Markowski's armor and his actions when he was trying to play soldier. That would be enough information to hunt him down with.

Calhoun only hoped that they'd be able to find Markowski, and that he hadn't been killed. Calhoun wasn't particularly fond of Markowski, especially whenever he pulled some stupid stunt like whatever he had done to get his suit stolen, but he was one of his men, and he felt responsible for him in the same way a school teacher felt responsible for a well meaning but difficult student.

He just had to grit his teeth and bear it, unless he wanted the players to notice something was up. He'd already heard some questions about what happened to the funny soldier, although thankfully it wasn't enough for them to call over Litwak. Not yet, anyway. But there was a good chance that if they didn't get Markowski back, people were going to start wondering about it, and if Litwak sees a glitch this early after the game is installed…

Calhoun knew he was probably being paranoid, but paranoia was the only thing keeping them from being eaten by a cybug when they least expect it. He clenched his fists, thinking of Brad and his stupid, stupid girl. They should have been more careful… he should have been more careful!

But none of them were, and Brad and his little twit paid the price. Calhoun closed his eyes, thankful that there was a break in game play and that nobody was near him. His men knew him well enough not to approach when he was like this.

The blare of the Quarter Alert roused him from his programmed regrets. Calhoun straightened, and headed back into position with the rest of his men. Missing Markowskis and miserable memories had to wait; he had his duty.

Calhoun couldn't help but feel relieved at the all clear. He was a man of action, and after a day of essentially sitting on his hands while one of his men was missing, he was prepared to find the son of a dog who stole one of his soldier's armor and teach him why you do not mess with one of his soldiers.

It didn't take him long to amass a squadron of men to go and search for Markowski, while the rest stay behind to patrol for cybugs, as well as make sure that the imposter didn't just stay behind, although that wasn't likely. If he'd been wandering around without armor, he'd probably be dead by now, from either the cybugs or a stray bullet. Still, they would probably need to return the body to it's home game, so the people there could make plans for what to do without that character. Besides, Calhoun wanted to slap the fool's corpse for trying to enter his game and impersonate one of his soldiers.

He was about to take off for Tapper's with his men, when the doors of the shuttle started to slide open. Calhoun was instantly on guard. "Cybug," he hissed, putting up a hand to stop his men from advancing any further.

As soon as they heard a strange beeping noise, Calhoun and his men started to fire at the strange projectile rapidly bouncing through the walls of the doorway and away from their bullets. An explosion propelled the bouncing object behind Calhoun, something he quickly undid with a sweeping kick, throwing it back ahead of the squadron.

No, not it. Him. The person in front of him might have been unlike any of the people he had seen before, but he was still a person. Calhoun put the muzzle of his gun to the figure's face.

"Slick tiddlywinking, pintsize." He said with a slight smirk, impressed by this tiny little man's ability to dodge all of their gunfire, in spite of what Calhoun presumed to be a lower tech character, judging by the simplicity of his design.

"I'm Fix It Felix Jr., sir! Of the game, Fix It Felix Jr.!" The man lying on the ground blurted out, hands held up in a protective measure. He looked so… harmless… that Calhoun was tempted to move away his gun. However, he kept it there for now. Baby cybugs looked cute too, until they grew up and ate your face.

In any case, Felix's fear seemed to dissolve away as he muttered "jiminy jaminy," or some such nonsense, and he started to sit up, absentmindedly pulling Calhoun's gun barrel closer to him. "Look at that high definition… Your face! It's amazing."

Calhoun jerked his gun away from the obviously unhinged character, unsure of whether to be flattered or unnerved by this behavior. "What are you here for, soldier?" He growled, hoping that the men didn't hear Fix It's statement. There would be no way that they would let him live it down, even if he was their commanding officer.

The diminutive figure stood up sheepishly, obviously coming to his senses after such an embarrassing display. "W-well, I'm looking for my colleague, Wreck It Ralph. Have you seen him?"

"What are his stats?" Seeing Felix's confusion, Calhoun clarified. "An intruder entered our game wearing one of my soldier's armor. There is a very high likelihood that would be your friend. Is he around six feet tall, roughly three hundred pounds, and sounds like this?"

Fix It looked even more confused after the voice clip of the intruder. "Well, that's Ralph's voice alright, but the height and weight are off. Really he's-"

Whatever Ralph was, it was interrupted by a triangularly shaped rocket, which Calhoun recognized as one of the escape pods from the tower. It flew past them, giving both Calhoun and Fix It a good view of both passengers.

"Ralph!" Felix called out, but Calhoun was focused on the other occupant of the pod.

"Cybug."