For years, I trained to become Earth’s new representative at gamra. I learned about their laws, their history and customs, the Coldi language, their all-pervasive loyalty networks. I knew it all.
(Yeah, I know I was a cocky little piece of you-know-what)
Then. On the first day of my job, it all went to hell in a handbasket.
The job. The relationship between Earth and gamra.
Kaput.
They killed our president. “They” being indisputably of alien origin.
I’m stuck on this strange world, where I have no help, less money, where my former allies shun me, and where you get killed for looking the head honcho in the eye.