Too bad they were in the fortress corridor, not some dusty parade ground. This was a civilized age, after all. There was no way Brigadier General Harris would be summarily executed and his head displayed for all to see, nor would gunshots and screams carry in from outside.
But every senior officer in the room knew what fate awaited him.
A military tribunal and sentencing? That was just for show. The whole process would probably be over in half a day—not even enough time for Brigadier General Harris's backers to react and shout, "Stay the blade!"
The senior officers all felt a chill in their hearts. Just three months ago, they had belonged to different districts of the Blue Star Commonwealth, represented different factions, and spoken for different forces within the military. Each of them might have been a single strand in a vast web. Touch any one of them, and you were touching the whole web.
In the first three months of the war, Lieutenant General Sylvester had chosen to turn a blind eye.
That was what most people did most of the time. After all, if the water was too clear, there would be no fish. As long as everyone played along, the world could stay harmonious. People could put aside their grudges, work together, and fight the enemy.
But the young general before them truly didn't care about all those twists and turns. He really dared to kill someone on the spot.
W-wasn't this clearly a purge of us outsiders, a power grab to absorb our troops? Wasn't he using military discipline as an excuse to exclude anyone who disagreed with him? Those dirty thoughts turned over in their minds, but they didn't dare voice them. The conference room sank into a gloomy silence.
Of course, not