Graduation and Letters

Turaxis-Prime Base T-54 Shooting Range, 8:35 a.m., June 5.

About four hundred yards ahead of the twelve rookies from First Squad, Second Platoon, Company D, standing in a line, a Kel-Morian Ripper squad was running. They were clearly virtual projections, yet incredibly realistic.

Starting with Augustus on the far left, the fully armed Marines raised their Gauss Rifles and began aiming. Since this was a period when new weapons were gradually being issued to the forces for a complete overhaul, the guns in their hands included older E-7 and E-9 rifles as well as C-14 rifles.

Even so, all of these weapons used Gauss technology, accelerating magnetic projectiles to supersonic speeds through electromagnetic induction coils to achieve accurate long-range fire.

Besides the widely known 8mm solid Steel Nails, Gauss rifles could also fire hollow-point rounds, depleted uranium rounds, and incendiary rounds of the same caliber.

Unlike the conventional cartridge firearms of the Earth era, a single Gauss Rifle round could cut an unarmored person cleanly in half at the waist.

Marine rookies could fire twenty to thirty rounds per second, or a thousand rounds per minute. Ammunition was stored in the twin Shoulders of their Power Armor, allowing them to brace their Gauss Rifles against their shoulders and rapidly replace and replenish their magazines.

This meant that, when stationed in fortresses and Bunkers with sufficient ammunition, they did not need to worry too much about accuracy. Moreover, against most enemies of the Terran Confederacy, a single hit was enough to kill.

But Marine ammunition was not unlimited, and on the battlefield, only madmen and war fanatics could remain absolutely calm. Even after nine to twelve weeks of Rookie training, soldiers would panic and fire too early once they reached the battlefield, exhausting their ammunition before the real enemy even entered effective range.

The capacitor system added to the new C-14 effectively avoided this problem. Still, its controlled burst-fire mode drew endless complaints from the Confederate Marine Corps' true tough guys, who claimed that any shooting that could not empty a magazine within ten seconds was no better than firing a slingshot.

First Squad's shooting ended within half a minute. The rounds they fired during that time would have been enough to wipe out an entire squad of Kel-Morian Labor Auxiliary troops. The Holographic Projection showed that every Kel-Morian Ripper had fallen before the firing ceased.

"Nicely done, Jim. Your improvement has been astonishingly fast," praised Zander Marx, a native of Tarsonis.

"That doesn't make me happy at all." Jim Raynor seemed unenthusiastic about it. Only during group firing could his abysmal accuracy be concealed—though his marksmanship had indeed improved considerably.

In Raynor's view, accuracy did not matter at all. Maintaining absolute fire suppression was what truly mattered. Once the commander gave the order, all they had to do was fire desperately in the indicated direction.

"Fall in," said Company D's officer over the company communications channel.

"That's it? I haven't had enough yet." Complaints from the rookies gradually filled First Squad's channel.

"Work's over, work's over. I'm hungry enough to swallow a whole Shiloh buffalo." Harnack Hank had always been an exception. He lacked enthusiasm for everything except fighting and playing cards, with his mind entirely focused on food.

"I received notice, brothers. We can start preparing for the Graduation Ceremony now," Augustus said at just the right moment over the communications channel. "Next is free time. Go take a cold shower. At 1 p.m., we begin formation drills for the graduation parade."

"Woohoo!" With Harnack's cheer, First Squad dispersed on the spot. As though it were a signal, the neat formations of the other four squads in Second Platoon vanished without a trace. Faced with a group of rookies about to graduate, their platoon leader could do nothing about it.

Raynor walked shoulder to shoulder with Augustus toward the dormitories. Their days in the rookie training camp had made them fairly good friends. Augustus lacked the arrogance commonly seen in nobles, but he was undoubtedly the sort of person who became the center of attention wherever he went.

Raynor had always been suspicious of the noble class, which he knew little about. He believed that the blood of ancient heroes could not possibly do much in those vampires' veins. But Augustus had gradually convinced him that, at the very least, not all nobles were the Confederacy parasites his father described.

Augustus possessed a sense of justice that Raynor admired. While Raynor had merely wanted to leave little Shiloh and see the real world, Augustus had abandoned an Affluent Life to join the military and save the Confederacy's suffering people.

If not for that, Raynor could not imagine what else a noble might step onto a battlefield of blood and fire for.

Other than idealists and patriots, what kind of person would join the Confederate Marine Corps at a time like this for some lofty goal?

Young Jim Raynor had enlisted with a sense of justice and mission, hoping to protect and save others. Still immature in his dealings with people and affairs, he could not yet imagine that besides patriots volunteering to defend their homes and ambitious young people seeking to make a name for themselves, there were also simple-minded youths like Augustus, who enlisted purely out of a yearning for war and adventure, driven by hot blood.

The original Augustus had merely been a pure war fanatic and a mad adventurer.

Augustus himself had never expressed his views on politics or war. He was quite cautious in that regard, and the supposed overflowing sense of justice had been entirely Raynor's own imagination. Augustus had never considered himself particularly noble. At most, he could be called upright.

For now, Augustus only wanted to survive in the military. Of course, it would be best if he could use his abilities to earn himself some rank. Augustus would fight for his superiors and for the Terran Confederacy until he retired safely.

He had not befriended Raynor to ride some so-called protagonist's coattails. In fact, few of the people around this guy ever came to a good end.

In a sense, being Raynor's good brother was also an extremely dangerous profession.

But since they were in the same squad, and Augustus was also his officer, they would likely fight together in the future. Avoiding friction between comrades as much as possible and strengthening the cohesion of this small group would, at least on the battlefield, let them live a little longer.

"Now that the base's signal jamming has been lifted, we can send Email to our families," Augustus said as they walked. At the moment, all his attention was on the personal terminal in his hands.

"Interstellar communications have to be translated through stellar information relay stations, have their signals amplified, and then be sent again through warp transmission to preserve the information's integrity and timeliness. If I don't pay extra, my parents probably won't see my message for several weeks under normal circumstances," young Raynor said dejectedly.

"That's right. Time is money." Augustus checked the letters he had already prepared on his personal terminal. There were ten in total, addressed respectively to Katherine Mengsk and Dorothy Mengsk.

Most of the letters were for his younger sister Dorothy. However, they rarely mentioned what Augustus had seen and experienced in the rookie training camp. Instead, they devoted more space to the starry sky over the camp and the vastly different yet equally beautiful scenery of Turaxis and Korhal.

As for the letter to his mother, Augustus's wording was much more serious and earnest. He reported only good news, not bad, because he knew his father Angus would definitely read it.

Even though Angus was not among the recipients, and even though he was so busy that he could not spare even a minute.

"I heard the base has interstellar Holographic Projection equipment. Maybe you could use that to video call your family directly," Raynor added. "If you don't care about the money."

"Oh, I know." Augustus shrugged. "But I think the Holographic Projection signal is pretty unstable, and the delay is terrifying."

Then Augustus sent all the Emails. Email was an instant communication service, which meant that even letters separated by several light-years could arrive the same day.

Raynor watched a string of heart-stopping bill amounts pop up on Augustus's personal terminal screen. He did not continue wondering whether that sum could buy a decent farm in Shiloh.

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