The battle was not going well. Valteri and Sergio had ganged up on him, as usual, an unspoken agreement to get his pitiful band out of the way so they could have a proper battle. Such was always the case in A Quiet Little War, a.k.a QLW.

  Valteri's chain-gun heavy infantry and vulture drones swarmed from the left, more than a match for his base's automated turrets and Type 1 Normal Infantry Offensive Units, or as they were better known, Tin IOU's. In the next turn, Serigo's T2 proto-mechs and veteran Jericho sappers had shrugged off his Pangolin's rocket ambush, scrapping both the Pangolin and its Pathfinder drone spotter. They would be knocking on his base's back door next turn and while his Harpoon-class anti-armor unit was capable of wrecking a proto-mech or two, it would not be enough.

  Tankred chewed at his lip and placed a prized unit he had been saving all game.

  "Oh not the Jay!" Sergio moaned.

  "I hate that fucking thing," Valteri said.

  Tankred grinned and enabled the piece through his square's game interface. The Sky Jay AI light drone was Tankred's only unit valued above common rarity, mid-uncommon. It truth, it was just an upgraded version of the Pathfinder drone, a little faster, more nimble, and more accurate. It wasn't a problem for most players, as several mid to high-uncommon units could deal with it effectively. But when you were a group of clones who could only afford low-common trash units, it would take several lucky hits to bring it down.

  "One of these days, we're going to ban that thing," Sergio said.

  "It's the only good unit he has, let him play it," Valteri said.

  "Pulling that drone in the LQW starter pack has been the only luck I've had in this game," Tankred said. "Not all of us get combat pay," Tankred said.

  "If I were a tech, I wouldn't need to pay good wada for my repairs either. I'd make so much refeeding scrap I'd never have draw from my pay, ever."

  "It's not as much as you think, cousin." Tankred brushed a finger against his lower eyelid, a gesture meaning the ship was always watching.

  Sergio tapped his eyelid too, and leaned back. "Well, if you took more assignations, maybe you could afford printing a few more good units. Maybe enough to win a game or two."

  "Next month, I should have enough for another scout unit, maybe a proto-mech if I'm lucky with the schematic draw," Tankred said.

  Tankred punched a button on his square, and the Sky Jay began circling the battlefield. Sergio and Valteri punched in orders to their units and the game's next game turn started.

  The metal miniatures at their feet came to life. Valteri's infantry charged directly into the teeth of the base turrets, taking heavy fire and some casualties but soon overran the tin IOUs defending the outer walls while the vultures swarmed around the Sky Jay like sparrows taking on a hawk.

  The AI Jay began thinning the swarm, taking several hits before dispatching them entirely. It moved on to the chaingunners, picking them off one by one as they advanced on Tankred's base. The Jay fought valiantly, tiny lasers picking off armored troopers and deftly avoiding return fire. Tankred might have hoped for a stalemate and hopefully another turn, but one of Sergio's proto-mechs deployed in anti-air mode and launched a volley of needle-like missiles which converged on the AI drone and brought it down.

  Tankred's Harpoon avenged the Jay with a missile of its own but was taken out a heartbeat later by Sergio's sappers. Valteri's forces ultimately captured Tankred's AI base and pushed on to win the game.

  ***

  "Get yourself some real units and you'd be dangerous," Valterti said.

  "That Sky Jay is damned annoying," Serigo said. "Thank goodness you only have one."

  "You each have three mids, not counting Sergio's high uncommon littoral gunboat"

  "It is nice, I admit. I highly recommend them on water maps."

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  "You should stop upgrading that AI drone and print something else. Stop being a one-trick clone," Valteri said.

  Tankred pushed a button on his square, and his 25mm army miniatures picked themselves up off the battlefield, gathered their tiny projectiles for reloading, and formed up before heading into their charging case. " We lowly robot techs don't qualify for combat pay. I got docked both by the ship and Davies, so printing even a high-common proto mech or heavy infantry squad is out of reach for the rest of the tour."

  "If you took more assignations, that'd bump up your feed allowance," Sergio said.

  Tankred winced. "It makes me feel icky."

  "Icky? Are you fresh out of the creche?" Sergio asked.

  "You know what I mean."

  "Is it because of...you know?" Valteri said.

  Tankred rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.

  "You can't let a glitch in your upbringing define you, Tankred," Sergio said. Valteri punched him hard in the shoulder. "Ow! What?"

  "It's okay, Valteri, really," Tankred said.

  Sergio rubbed his shoulder and leaned in closer to Tankred. "Hey, it's no big deal, I do them all the time. You walk in, get naked, pass out, and wake up freshly showered with a nice little feed bump in your account."

  "You're not helping," Valteri said.

  "Aren't you curious who booked you, cousin? I'd always wonder which one it was, smiling behind my back," Tankred said.

  Sergio laughed. "Who cares? I got me a gunboat and a winning record against you two sad excuses for tactical commanders."

  "Bought your way to the top you mean," Valteri muttered as he punched something into his square.

  "Whatever works, I say. You can comb through all the game replays you want, Tankred, and keep feeding your precious uncommon drone little upgrade packages, but you're not going anywhere until you man up for some bigger guns." Sergio smirked and his focus drifted over Tankred's shoulder. Tankred realized the danger a moment too late and yelped as a static charge stung the back of his neck.

  He swatted at Valteri's scout sniper perched on the bunk behind him.

  "Careful! It still has battle damage." Valteri said. Tankred checked his swing, as much as he wanted to knock the miniature across the room. The miniatures required repairs after every battle, which a resourceful clone could scrounge the bit of scrap the printer feed, for overhaul and rebuild cost real wada, nearly as much as buying new.

  "I can't believe you fall for that every time," Sergio said.

  "It's not funny." Which wasn't true, the one time he managed to sneak one of his units close enough to shock Valteri and it had been hilarious.

  "Get thee bigger guns, young man," Valteri said.

  "Gentlemen," said a voice.

  Valteri and Serigo crashed to attention, followed a moment later by Tankred. Ensign Davies walked into the room and frowned at the game board. He nudged a veteran light infantry unit (low-uncommon) out of its bunker with his boot and watched as a melee fighting drone speared it. He glanced at Valteri and Segio.

  "I believe you two are due on shift at the top of the hour, yes? I suggest you clean up your game then grab some chow. Meanwhile, please report to my quarters, Mister Mathews. That is all."

  They nodded and waited until the ensign had left before relaxing.

  "What did you do, Tankred?" Sergio asked.

  "I didn't do anything."

  "Maybe that's your problem," Sergio said.

  "He doesn't like me."

  "It's Ella," Valteri said as he powered down the battlefield map from his square and folded it up.

  Tankred chest tightened at her name. "What about her?"

  "What about her?" Valteri said in a bad imitation of Tankred's Nixian drawl. "Please. You had to go all stupid for Davies's favorite, and for some reason she hasn't stomped you into the ground for it. I think Davies would gladly send your marginal ass to another ship's family and away from Ella if he thought it wouldn't look bad on his record."

  "Ella can make her own decisions," Tankred said.

  "Only if they're the right ones. I bet he's going to have one of those fatherly talks with you about responsibility and the big picture," Valteri said.

  Sergio shook his head. "Nah, he's going to chew him out for routine incompetence. He's saving the 'You're not good enough for my daughter' talk for a rainy day."

  "Screw you both."

  "Well, at least you can be proud of your Quiet Little War wins. Oh, wait..."

  "Don't you two have something to guard?"

  "Come on, Valteri. I hear someone programmed a new barbecue in the mess hall, whiskey barrel smoke? Sauce? Whiskey something or some such. Farewell, cousin."

  "Cousins," Tankred replied.

  The two left and Tankred lingered, taking longer plugging his miniatures case into the power outlet for charging. He checked his account balance and what he'd have to pay if he wanted to upgrade his uncommon. What he saw on the marketplace, even the scrap-heap specials were all out of reach. He checked over his shoulder to make sure his friends weren't coming back, then thumbed through his square to the assignation interface. He hadn't kept tabs on the bids, but as someone who hadn't opted in for a while, his multiplier made the assignation bonus larger than he would have thought.

  His skin went clammy. No. He wouldn't. He should stick to the plan of steady incremental upgrades with the occasional boost from recycling what scrap he could smuggle past the ship's scanners. In a few months, he could purchase a booster pack, guaranteed to have at least one uncommon and maybe even a rare unit schematic.

  Then again, he could get the booster right after the assignation and it wouldn't matter matter what the ship or Davies docked him, assignation income was exempt from disciplinary fines. He eyed the accept button, and pressed it before he could change his mind. He'd be fine. And if he got any funny looks later, he wouldn't care.