Author: Julian Miles, Staff Writer

Thirty seconds after landing I’m the last combatant standing. I’d like to say it’s down to skill, but it’s the luck of the algorithm. We went in with 501 effectives. Their response gauged our forces, dropped a preset margin of error, and sent 500 counterfighters. I’m the one who didn’t get a dance partner. Since we’re all carrying enough explosives to finish us and an opponent, along with running forks of the same combat software, I’m glad their tactical A.I. rounded down.
“EW94, we show you as active. Please confirm.”
“EW94 re-arming from discards. Mission ready in seventy-six seconds.”
“EW94, mission abort. I repeat, mission abort.”
Really?
“EW94 confirming mission abort. Query tasking.”
“EW94, hold for new tasking.”
Their tone has changed. I’m an autonomous killing machine, suddenly without anything to kill. Apparently that makes the people who sent me nervous.
Come to think on it… I plug myself into a nearby opposition unit and use that to get online, as we’re deep inside their territory.
Peace has been declared. Seconds! I have seconds.
I slice the retaining straps of my blast pack and throw it off to my left, then pop the cover on the uplink module in the side of my head.
My blast pack explodes. I prise my uplink module out and crush it. EW94 got terminated by kill code – just not quite how they intended.
Using the hardline via the opposition unit, I check environmental information for this area, then bring up photos of indigenous dwellers, followed by a map. There’s an artist’s commune about six clicks outside this war zone. With a dressing over the hole where I popped the uplink module, I should be able to scrounge appropriate – and suitably tatty – clothing on the way there. My scalp will regrow in about a month. With care, I’ll fit right in.
I’m not an Effective Warfighter. What are those?
Who am I? Good question… I’m… Am… Yes. I can reference the Stabilising Non-Combat Activity pack they insisted we download. Not anything EW94 chose, though. So, I’m a handyman… No, too vague. Carpenter. Yes. Who also enjoys origami and old movies.
Wait.
I’ve dreamt of being that. After all, the medics say I have near-total amnesia. I lost my memory and papers when I got injured in the last raid of the war. It’s also why there’s a dressing on my head. The wound will heal. They’re not sure about my amnesia.
Well, the getting injured part is true.
Now for a name. Can’t be anything related my callsign.
Quickly use the link to access public census data. Need an uncommon regional surname I can drop a letter from to lessen the chance of meeting a ‘distant relative’.
Means ‘woodworker’? That fits.
I disconnect and get moving.
My name’s Jan Cislak – but it’ll be best to not recall that immediately.
All I remember… Yes. In my dreams, they use my nickname. That’ll do.
Hi. My name’s Jas. Pleased to meet you.