The rain was still falling.
Water continued dripping from Platoon Leader Karl’s soaked flak armor, but he paid it no mind.
He pulled Rod by the wrist and strode through the muddy communication trench.
The soldiers of the platoon followed behind of their own accord, every face filled with anger.
The crowd surrounded the monocle-wearing adjutant in the middle.
Platoon Leader Karl stopped, grabbed the adjutant by the collar, and yanked him right in front of his face.
“Lead the way.”
The adjutant trembled.
“K-Karl, what are you doing?
We can talk this out…”
“I said lead the way!”
Karl cut him off with a roar, spraying spit across the adjutant’s face.
“We’re going to find that old bastard Reno!
Don’t tell me he’s busy.
I know exactly which rat hole he’s hiding in!”
The adjutant shrank his neck from the shout.
He secretly glanced at the veteran soldiers behind Karl, whose eyes looked like they could eat people alive.
Then he looked at Rod’s expressionless scarred face and swallowed.
“Fine.
This way…
this way, please.”
He awkwardly straightened his wrinkled collar and turned toward the rear defenses.
The group moved in force through several reinforced communication trenches.
The environment here was clearly much better than the front line.
The muddy dirt path had become a steel-plated walkway.
Green containers painted with the Aquila were piled along both sides.
Several half-buried concrete bunkers crouched behind the line like gray beasts, with communication antennas protruding from their tops and swaying faintly in the rain.
Although the roar of distant artillery still rumbled, shaking the ground from time to time, the sense of urgency that one might lose his head to a stray bullet at any moment had faded considerably here.
There was less blood in the air and more of the sharp smell of promethium fuel.
The adjutant stopped in front of the largest command bunker.
It was a heavy reinforced-concrete fortification.
At its entrance stood a massive airtight blast door.
He reached out and pressed the communication panel beside the door.
“Sir, it’s me.”
The adjutant spoke into the vox.
“The morale-boosting task has been completed successfully, but…
Platoon Leader Karl of Third Platoon says he has an urgent matter and needs to see you.”
The vox was silent for several seconds.
“Come in.”
A low grunt came through with a crackle of static.
Clack…
The hydraulic locks disengaged, and the heavy blast door slowly slid open to both sides, revealing the interior.
The adjutant slipped inside first like a slippery loach.
Platoon Leader Karl snorted coldly and dragged Rod in after him.
The veterans behind them also tried to squeeze in, instantly blocking the spacious entrance.
The inside of the bunker was large, but the dim lighting made the atmosphere especially oppressive.
The four walls were covered with tactical screens of various sizes, and streams of data cascaded down like waterfalls.
On the central hololithic strategy table, countless red light points spread like a virus, almost swallowing the green light points representing friendly forces.
A figure in heavy carapace armor stood before the largest main screen with his back to everyone.
Hearing the commotion behind him, the burly middle-aged man turned around.
A terrifying scar ran across the left side of his face, extending from brow to chin.
Several dull medals hung on the carapace armor over his chest, and the hem of his cloak was spattered with mud.
He was the commander of this company, Captain Reno.
Captain Reno looked at the mob of mud-soaked, sweat-stinking soldiers who had poured in, and his brows instantly twisted into a knot.
“Karl!”
Captain Reno roared, his voice echoing through the bunker.
“You barge into the company command post with this many men.
What are you trying to do?
Mutiny?!”
That battle-hardened killing intent slammed into them like an invisible wall.
Several recruits who had just entered instinctively stepped back in fear.
Even an old soldier like Platoon Leader Karl had his shoulders shrink under the shout.
But in the next second, Karl thought of Rod beside him and the military merit that had been stolen.
He forcibly stopped himself from backing down, stiffened his neck, and glared stubbornly at the captain.
“Captain Reno!”
He roared back.
His voice was not as loud as the captain’s, but it was full of conviction.
“I’m not starting a mutiny!
I’m here to demand an explanation!”
Captain Reno narrowed his eyes.
His sharp gray gaze locked onto Karl as if assessing the determination of this old subordinate.
After a few seconds, he exhaled heavily through his nose with a cold snort.
Seeing that Karl had not been scared off, a trace of satisfaction flashed deep in his eyes, almost impossible to notice.
His gaze passed over Karl and landed on the quiet young man beside him.
Rod.
The recruit stood there silently, neither furious like the others nor trembling in fear.
The kid even had the leisure to study the tactical map on the wall, his eyes so clear they looked almost foolish.
“I knew you would come.”
The captain’s voice lowered.
The thunderous rage disappeared, replaced by helpless exhaustion.
“If you knew, then give us an explanation!”
Platoon Leader Karl refused to let it go and took a step forward.
Captain Reno did not answer immediately.
He swept his gaze over the soldiers blocking the entrance and craning their necks to look inside, then waved his hand as if shooing flies.
“Enough.
Karl, and that…
the kid who killed the Ork Boss.
You two stay.
Everyone else, get out.”
The soldiers looked at one another, then at their platoon leader.
Karl gave a slight nod.
Only then did the soldiers reluctantly withdraw.
The blast door closed again, completely cutting off the noise, wind, and rain outside.
The bunker suddenly grew quiet.
Only the low conversations of vox operators and intelligence staff in the background remained, mixed with the hum of operating machinery.
Captain Reno turned and pointed at a small door in the corner.
“Come in.”
It was a simple rest room.
Inside were only an iron table and a few folding chairs.
The ashtray on the table was piled with cigarette butts, and beside it sat a half-finished bottle of amasec.
The captain sat heavily in a chair, unfastened the heavy bolt pistol at his waist, and tossed it onto the table with a clang.
He fished a wrinkled lho-stick from his pocket and put it between his lips.
“Haa…”
He let out a long sigh.
In that instant, he seemed to age ten years.
The authority he maintained outside receded like the tide, revealing the exhaustion and helplessness beneath.
Platoon Leader Karl did not sit.
He pulled Rod along, and the two stood shoulder to shoulder on the opposite side of the table.
“Old Reno.”
With no outsiders present, Karl’s form of address changed, and his tone carried resentment.
“Since you know everything, since you know this kid is the hero who blew apart that Ork Boss with one shot and saved our entire platoon’s lives…”
Karl placed a hand on Rod’s shoulder and patted it hard.
“Then why did you give his military merit to that pretty-faced noble who only hides in the rear drinking tea?
Where’s your conscience?”
Captain Reno gave a bitter laugh.
He pulled the lho-stick from his mouth and tapped it against the table.
In the end, he still lit it.
“Conscience?
In this shithole, can conscience fill our stomachs?
Can it be fired like ammunition?”
He raised his head and looked at Karl through the smoke, then at the expressionless Rod.
“Who told that idiot predecessor of ours to leave the company with this rotten mess?
We’re short on guns and ammunition, the heavy weapons are breaking down, and even our rations are almost gone.”
He raised two fingers and pointed at Rod.
“You think I don’t know this kid is a fine soldier of our company?
I was the first one to see that footage.
Damn, it felt good!”
“But…”
The captain’s tone shifted.
“A petty noble in the Departmento Munitorum wants that achievement.
He wants his precious youngest son to leave this meat grinder with a proper excuse and go enjoy himself in the rear.”
“He named his price.”
Captain Reno stared into Karl’s eyes and spoke word by word.
“If we give up this achievement…
the company’s supply priority will be raised by one level.
And tomorrow, by tomorrow night at the latest, we’ll receive support from three Chimera armored transports.”
The room fell into deathly silence.
Only Platoon Leader Karl’s fists creaked as they clenched.
His mouth opened wide.
The veins on his neck pulsed, as if he wanted to roar, argue, and flip the table over.
But when the words reached his mouth, he could not force them out.
Three Chimeras.
A one-level increase in supplies.
That meant more ammunition, more rations, stronger firepower, and…
more brothers who could survive.
This was no longer just a question of military merit.
It was a deal.
A deal that used one recruit’s honor in exchange for a chance at survival for hundreds of men in the entire company.
Karl’s hand loosened.
He lowered his head in defeat, his whole body collapsing.
This damned reality.
Those rotten nobles.
As for Rod, who had remained silent the entire time, he was weighing things in his heart.
Chimeras?
This deal actually doesn’t sound like a loss.
I thought it was just pure theft, but they actually traded it for something useful.
This captain at least pulled in a big sponsorship for the company.
His face still maintained that calm, unbothered expression.
Although he did not know every last detail of the setting, he understood the nature of this vast Imperium very clearly.
Rotten, rigid, bureaucratic…
This was a chronic disease that even the Regent who had climbed out of stasis, the Primarch Roboute Guilliman, found frustrating and even despair-inducing.
A tiny private like him should not dream of changing the status quo.
As for worrying about things far beyond his reach, he would leave that to the big guy for now.
What Rod needed to do was survive in this mud pit, train his skills, and gradually grow stronger.
That was real strength.
Captain Reno had been observing Rod the whole time.
He had originally thought this young man would be furious, would cry and make a scene, or even rush up to grab him by the collar.
But all he saw was calm.
A kind of calm that seemed to understand everything.
That made the captain feel even guiltier.
He fell silent for a while, then crushed the half-smoked lho-stick into the ashtray.
“Kid.”
Captain Reno raised his head and looked at Rod with complicated eyes.
“This matter is my fault.
For the sake of the company, I sacrificed your future.”
He paused, then took a deep breath.
“What do you want?
As long as it is within my power, I can give you some convenience in my personal capacity.”