It was an awful day for driving. Every day was, really. But the scent of fresh grass blowing past as I entered the APC reinforced how much I did not want to be stuck inside an armored metal can with the Commander.

I went through the preventative maintenance checks. Just a routine drive, they said. Milk run, zero danger, nice feather in the hat at the end. With the Commander riding with me, I almost believed it.

The engine sputtered to a tolerable start. Lights worked. Horn worked. "Orange One, this is Control. Radio check, over." Radio not entirely defunct. The door opened.

"Eh, first time?" I sat frozen in my chair. I don't know if it was fear, or indecision, or if the blast had paralyzed me. The rugged man bent into the overturned APC and reached out a hand. "Cid's the name. Might as well learn it. 'Sall good, battle's over. Let's get this puppy back home."

"... You with me?" the Commander said.

"Yes sir, milk run, just like you said."

"Oh, Andy's fine." I'd never actually seen him before. Looked like he was right out of high school. Or still in. Couldn't tell if he needed to fill out or lose the baby fat. Looking at him, I could believe the rumors he didn't know what an airport was.

"Yes sir. Control, Orange One. En route to Crockpot, over."

"I thought this was a transport vehicle, Sarn't. I don't understand."

"This vehicle is transporting your ass out to that hill. Now get the fuck out there and don't fucking move until more orders come in. You know what an order is, don't you, Private?"

"...oh, perfectly safe, sir. Trust me, she can take a shelling." Outside the APC, the landscape blurred by. "Green rolling hills." That's the words poets liked to use. "Lush verdant forests." Things must look different from outside an APC. From the inside, a forest was precious concealment, and twigs caught up in all the little holes you didn't know you had that would be a pain in the ass to clean out post-mission. But mostly concealment. Of course, that was all second hand. The Commander didn't believe in concealing APCs. Or the Advisor didn't. The difference was academic.

"Davy, come on out! Partaaaaaayy!"

I pulled the blanket tighter. "He's trying to kill me."

"Aw, c'mon Sergeant Godfrey's got a heart if you dig deep enough. He's a good guy!"

"No, the Commander."

"Bro, what are you saying? Are you for real?"

"Then what the fuck's the point of having an APC that doesn't fucking transport anyone? What's the point of sending me out into no-man's land just to soak up IDF? You sit there and throttle the wheel until you can't feel your fingers no more, and just wait for the incoming to blow you up, again."

Brady pulled out his tablet. "Stats don't lie, man. Look at this. We got the lowest casualty rate, e-v-e-r. The new Advisor, the Ahab guy? Genius. Those greedy Yellow Comet bastards can't resist a shiny APC. Too valuable, you hear what I'm saying? Those copters that rattled you? My AA's ripped them the fuck apart, 'cause Ahab knew they were comin'! You're fucking gold, bro. I'm telling you, war ain't never been this safe!"

"I don't feel safe."

The Crockpot was an abandoned farmhouse deep in Yellow Comet territory. Word was the Commander wanted something equidistant between the three parties. Then Ahab pointed out how obvious a target that would be. Yellow Comet was already there, of course, and I saw some Blue Moon troops running a perimeter behind.

I backed the APC up to the back of the house. "Give 'em hell, sir. I've got your back."

"Hey, thanks. Be back in two shakes, I hope."

And then I was alone, like a good little APC driver. But not for long. With the doors shut, and the Commanders deep in conference, no one noticed a lone soldier loping out of the tree line. His Orange Star uniform was identical to mine. And so was his face.

He handed over a folder and waited while I examined the contents. Birth certificate, driver's license, cell phone. My fingerprint unlocked it, and it was already synced to an email account in my new name. I nodded.

"Enjoy your freedom," the clone said. His smile was off-kilter in a way I will never forget. For a second, I hesitated.

"Give 'em hell." I did not smile back.