Kobayashi Maru and The Alters

*The following text carries out spoilers from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.

In sci-fi tradition, every work needs a metaphor that tests the abilities and limitations of a leader.

Originating from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982), the Kobayashi Maru is a simulation (said to be) designed to be unwinnable. The scenario assesses a person's character beyond mere capability. There are no binary "pass or fail" outcomes - Starfleet Academy students must navigate the situation according to their own conscience and morals.

Kirk famously hacks the simulation to win. For an ambitious man like Kirk, this is unsurprising, yet it reveals how some people refuse to accept consequences, instead pushing against the impossible. While remarkable as a solo challenge, not everyone can (or should) replicate it. At its core, the Kobayashi Maru remains a lesson in accepting no-win scenarios - despite Kirk's defiance and his unwillingness to lose.

In contrast, Spock embodies devoted, self-sacrificing leadership. Kirk and Spock form a yin-yang duality: Kirk is the natural challenger, conditioned to win and kindle hope against all odds, while Spock is the nurturer, willing to sacrifice ambitions and self-interests if it serves the greater good.

In The Alters, you can technically embody either approach.

By Act 2, you'll face a [spoiler] Tabula Rasa [/spoiler] situation where some of your alters will disapprove of your decision with no apparent way to win them back. You must choose which group to appeal to and carry out what you see as the best solution. One option costs a life (even if arguably so) to let your alters study the process's side effects; the other involves seeking help from your corporate allies. At that point, I already knew the corporation cared more about Rapidium (the alter-creation resource) than about me or my crew.

Knowing this, I found the corporate option insulting. Despite the risks, I trusted my scientist's insistence that we could solve it ourselves. I became too focused on winning and pushing boundaries. To do what I thought was right (which was essentially saving my crew), I made what could be called an "immoral" decision. As a result, 4 of my 6 alters rebelled, leaving me with only two. Surprisingly, the Worker (whom I expected to rebel) stood by me, adopting a pragmatic view similar to the Scientist's. He recognized it as a boundary-crossing act but acknowledged its necessity.

Despite my efforts to regain my rebellious alters' trust, I failed. Technically, I could have cheated - that's how games work (save-scumming, if you will). I considered hacking the system to achieve the "win" condition, and yes, it's all too possible. But within minutes, I recognized the parallel to Star Trek's dilemma and accepted my reduced circumstances. I chose to survive with my limited resources and let other players (who I believe would be also aware of this) explore the "cheat" option. I made peace with the outcome and respected my alter's choice to leave. He had, after all, acknowledged my care for him and the others.

This becomes thought-provoking when you consider how often we push games' boundaries. Undertale made this point strikingly (though that's another discussion). Often, we sacrifice everything for more content. Here, I initially felt insulted but came to appreciate this as a powerful narrative anchor. Letting go proved more fulfilling than fighting the system. When I surrendered to the outcome, it felt liberating. Sometimes, you need to accept the loss, sacrifice additional content, and find contentment in the experience you just had.