Someone had to stop them from going too far...
Charalad gripped the whistle, ready to raise it and blow. It was his duty. Even if the Krieg soldiers shot him for it, he had to fulfill that duty, so that he would not feel ashamed before the Throne.
He felt the hand holding the whistle being pinned down, and he heard pistols being drawn from their holsters.
When he turned around, he saw Colonel Müller standing beside him and staring at him. No emotion could be seen beneath those goggles.
So the guns had been drawn by the other soldiers? Who could they be? 0-11-33145 or 0-11-33146?
Ah, it was impossible to tell. Their mannerisms were far too alike. Perhaps no one but true Krieg soldiers could distinguish the subtle differences between them.
Commissar Charalad closed his eyes. "Are you going to shoot a commissar loyal to the Imperium? That is an act of treason."
Colonel Müller did not answer. He merely turned his head and continued observing the bloody battlefield through his binoculars.
Charalad grew anxious. He tried to persuade these wooden-headed men who were determined to die, to make this man who had risen from the ranks to colonel understand that continuing to throw troops in was nothing but a waste of life.
"Listen, Colonel. This is not a dishonorable retreat. It is the most rational decision for preserving more strength for a counterattack. That battlefield can no longer be taken so easily. We need—"
"We do not."
Colonel Müller spoke. He lowered his binoculars and turned to look at Charalad. "We only need to attack. Relentless attacks. That is enough."
"This is a waste of life! Irresponsibility toward the soldiers! They could accomplish so much more!"
"The Krieg Corps has no concept of waste. Everything we do