‘It’s supposed to be an immune booster,’ she says thoughtfully, before stepping in front of the medic. ‘You. Speak. What is this?’

‘J-just an immune compound,’ the medic wheezes. ‘Like you say. What else could it be?’

I can see the sweat on the nape of their neck as they look again at the screen.

‘That uniform belongs to Sergeant Garnet,’ the General says suddenly.

‘Sergeant Garnet tried to kill me.’

‘The delivery?’

‘There was no delivery. Only an ambush.’ I look at her. ‘They’ve declared you dead. I read it in a bulletin. This isn’t an examination. It’s an execution.’

The General’s face goes still. When she speaks, her voice is soft. ‘You’re mad, traitor. Like I thought.’

I nod at the syringe. ‘See for yourself.’

The General holds my gaze, before abruptly leaning forwards and stabbing the needle into the medic’s thigh.

The medic shrieks and struggles madly, flailing at the syringe. The General holds it firm, her thumb on the plunger.

‘What’s wrong, if it’s only an immune booster?’ she says viciously.

‘Help!’ the medic screams. ‘Help me!’

A flash of light and the screen flickers into life. It shows a viewing room filled with people in uniform. Sitting in the centre is an older woman with grey curly hair, closely cropped to show the tattoos of command; two faded triangles underscored by four thicker lines. Medals and ribbons drip from her chest.

‘General Ortiz,’ her voice booms. ‘Stand down.’

The General gapes. ‘Commander?’

The older woman’s face is like stone. ‘By the ordinances of the Army of the First Accord, I, Commander Beatrice Aline, have issued an order for your compassionate termination, with immediate effect.’ A moment later her face changes, softening into pity. ‘Stand down, Gabi.’

‘Compassionate termination?’ The General’s voice trembles.

The woman nods, glancing at the medic, who sits hunched against the wall, gripping their thigh. ‘You are dying. In a few months, perhaps less, your body will fail you completely.’

‘Is it true?’

She’s talking to me. I tear my eyes from the Commander’s face and look down.

‘You treated me,’ the General continues. ‘Is it true? That my body is failing?’

She is ill in some way, of that I am certain. But dying? I meet her eyes. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Enough,’ the Commander barks. ‘We are the experts in this matter. We do not need the opinion of a convict.’ She leans forwards. ‘We have seen this process before, Ortiz. It began two years ago, with the A-series. As they aged, they simply broke down. We have tried to counteract it, but there was nothing we could do. It is a painful, wretched end.’

The General looks dazed. ‘The wreck?’ she asks distantly.