My family left no chair for me at my brother’s welcome-home dinner. Dad raised his glass and said, “Some people are born to command.” He never looked at me. To them, I was the daughter who quit military academy and disappeared. So I stayed quiet. Until the next morning, a drill sergeant saw me on my brother’s training base, snapped into a salute, and said one word that made his rifle hit the dirt: “General.”

Its screen flashed:

Transfer window: 00:54.

Noah broke cover.

“Noah, no!”

He ran into open ground and grabbed it.

A shooter lifted his weapon.

Price fired first.

Noah swung the device into the ringed man’s face. The man dropped to one knee, stunned. MPs moved in. The compromised soldier was cuffed.

Then the field unit turned white.

A calm female voice spoke from its speaker.

“Authentication accepted. Hello, General Huxley.”

Everyone stared at me.