I do so, my fingers already to my chest in salute. The room is small and plain, decorated by a few sparse pieces of furniture and the helmet of an old exosuit hanging like a trophy on the wall behind the general. Fluorescent lamps bathe everything in pale light.

Grizzled and broad-shouldered, General Altair sits with his hands folded on the desk in front of him. Standing, he towers over me, but even seated, he has an unmistakable gravitas that demands respect without a word. His uniform is marked with his years of service and many honors, but the scars crisscrossing his face and hands say more.

“Sergeant Kaiser,” he says with a nod. “I’m glad to see you well.”

“The same to you, General.”

His eyes move to the bag over my shoulder, and his expression shifts to eagerness. I step forward to set it on his desk, but Altair nods toward it rather than gesturing for me to sit.

“Show me.”

I carefully remove the orb from its case and place it atop his desk. Its soft glow lights Altair’s smile.

“Very good,” he says without taking his eyes off it. “Yes. You’ve done well. These are hard to find, and extremely valuable. I trust nobody else saw it?”

“One civilian. I took care of him.”

“I see.” He nods. “An unfortunate necessity. Good work.”

I wait, hands clasped behind my back, but he says no more. After a few moments, I clear my throat.

“Sir.” The word comes out almost apologetic. “There’s also the matter of my discharge from service.”

Even with Sanita dulling my nerves, my heart is pounding. I’ve spent three long, painful years waiting for this moment, but now, it also means turning down Altair’s generous offer.

“Ah.” His smile disappears like a switch being flicked. My mouth goes dry, and I swallow hard as he gestures for me to sit. He produces a bottle and two glasses from his desk, and pours us each a couple of fingers of vodka. I haven’t eaten yet today, and my stomach gurgles in protest, but it would be rude of me to reject the tradition. So we clink glasses and drink together, while my stomach ties itself in knots in anticipation of what he’ll say when we finish.

“I take that to mean you aren’t interested in the promotion I offered,” he says as he sets down his glass, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand.

“Truly, sir, I am honored by the opportunity,” I say, setting down my own glass and trying to maintain my composure. “But as you know, my family is waiting for me. And I… I have a life elsewhere to consider.”

Altair drums his fingers on his armrest. His eyes are focused on something past my head.