Promotion to Sergeant

Venice District, Pride of Boke, June 11, 2488.

Garrison of the 5th Battalion, 4th Brigade, 33rd Ground Assault Division, Terran Confederacy.

Several days had passed since Augustus first arrived in the city, now reduced to ruins. Despite a few setbacks along the way, he and his comrades had all made it out alive. Lieutenant Warfield had been taken to the officers' hospital in Pride of Boke, and there had been no further news about him so far.

The commander of the Imperial reconnaissance company that had come to their rescue was astonished. Augustus, a rookie with no combat experience, had managed to lead a platoon of equally untested rookies to rout a squad of Kel-Morian Assault Cavalry.

In the commander's view, it was a miracle that the leaderless rookies hadn't fallen apart on the spot or scattered when they encountered the enemy.

The reconnaissance company commander had high praise for Augustus's ability to adapt under pressure. He said plainly that he would submit an honest report, and that Marine Corps Command would be more than happy to award Augustus a Medal of Valor.

Augustus's original rookie platoon was supposed to be broken up by the personnel department and reassigned among the companies of the 5th Battalion. In the end, however, they were kept together and assigned to 3rd Platoon, 1st Company, Warfield's hardest-hit company. They remained organized as 1st Squad.

Their platoon leader was a young second lieutenant named Reagan Streicher, a lean, black-haired man who was efficient and decisive. He was also one of Warfield's longtime subordinates.

Years of war had left the military desperately short of junior officers and NCOs with proper education and professional training. As a result, Augustus, who had served as a rookie sergeant, remained the squad leader of 1st Squad. A week later, Warfield would select officers or promote a group of privates first class directly into NCO positions to lead the rookie squads.

Over the next few days, Augustus was busy writing a report about how he had led his rookie platoon to defeat the assault cavalry. The report would eventually be handed to a master sergeant in the 5th Battalion, who would use it to fill out his otherwise empty record as a rookie.

His company stayed at the garrison to rest during this period and wasn't assigned any military missions. It was a peaceful time for the soldiers. Apart from the occasional Avenger and bomber formation passing overhead on its way into the distance, not even a gunshot could be heard near the garrison.

During that time, Augustus and his comrades trained under their 3rd Platoon leader, Second Lieutenant Reagan, to improve their teamwork and combat skills. During the training, Reagan also told the rookies about the history and glorious record of the 33rd Ground Assault Division.

When Reagan spoke with reverence of their division commander, Arcturus Mengsk, praising him as a fair and upright leader, selfless and fearless, and a great strategist, Augustus felt deeply awkward, no matter which identity or perspective he considered the matter from.

All in all, Reagan was easy to get along with. He was an excellent Marine officer who followed his superiors' orders meticulously and without slackening, yet he was also humorous and approachable, and could mix easily with his men.

Augustus and Reagan got along well and soon became good friends. The only problem was that the second lieutenant seemed unusually concerned about Augustus's Mengsk surname.

Augustus's comfortable life at the garrison changed on June 11, however, when Lieutenant Warfield was discharged from the hospital and returned to the command roster.

That afternoon, Warfield summoned Augustus to his office and handed him a dark green military insignia bearing three vertically arranged, inverted V-shaped marks.

"Congratulations. You're a sergeant now, Sergeant Mengsk. Here's your new ID card." At the same time, Warfield handed Augustus a bronze medal with a golden ribbon. Engraved on it was a finely detailed profile of an eagle's head with piercing eyes. Tiny English letters on the medal read "Medal of Valor."

In the Confederate military promotion system, this medal was usually awarded to officers who had shown courage in battle and were about to be promoted. In certain cases, it could also make up for the merit or exam points required for a promotion.

Augustus noticed that the sizable wound on Warfield's head had scabbed over. Even so, the lieutenant was still full of energy, his eyes sharp. There were few documents on his desk; instead, it was covered with the dismantled parts of pistols and rifles.

A young soldier with a long rifle slung across his back stood behind Warfield. He had dazzling blond hair, a narrow chin, and thin lips. His eyes were set farther apart than most people's, making his features seem slightly out of proportion. What stood out most, though, were the sniper badge on his chest and his keen, hawk-like blue eyes.

"Lieutenant, I'm relieved to see you safe and sound," Augustus said, exchanging a few polite words as he accepted the insignia and medal.

"Heh, I have you to thank for that." Warfield smiled with relief and praised him without holding back. "Those rookies wouldn't have turned into a pack of wolves without your leadership. You saved me, and you saved everyone in the rookie platoon. It was a miracle. Headquarters has been singing your praises!"

"For a rookie fresh out of training, organizing a platoon of rookies without a commander and keeping them from breaking, fleeing, or surrendering as a group is already no small feat. Augustus Mengsk has the essential qualities needed to lead as an NCO, and even as an officer."

"Throughout his leadership of the second rookie platoon and its eventual defeat of the Kel-Morian Assault Cavalry squad, not one of Augustus Mengsk's orders was unnecessary. The operation offered a first glimpse of his genius for military affairs and his strategic foresight."

Augustus could tell that these were probably the remarks of a Marine staff officer who had reviewed his report and assessed him personally. Warfield was simply repeating them verbatim.

"You've earned this." Warfield looked at Augustus. "As for the Ardien Crystals you captured, our supply sergeant is still working out their value. The bonus will be added to every member of the rookie platoon's pay next month. The 33rd Ground Assault Division isn't like other units. Its officers would never line their own pockets."

"I'm grateful for everything you've done for me." Just as his expression showed, Augustus was genuinely pleased. He had assumed that, under the normal process, it would take him at least another three months to be promoted from private second class to private first class.

"By the way, your brother—I mean, Colonel Arcturus Mengsk—will arrive on Turaxis II next week," Warfield said, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

Augustus showed little reaction and simply nodded.

"Now I'd like to introduce the new member of your squad: Private Second Class Rick Kidd, a rookie from your intake. He was the best rookie sniper in the class." Warfield looked toward the young soldier beside him.

"Show him to your commander and have him report in."

"We're comrades now." Augustus shook hands with Rick Kidd, who had walked over.

On the way back to the 1st Squad barracks, Rick seemed a little ill at ease. He was reserved and taciturn, answering only in a few words when Augustus asked him something.

Augustus, meanwhile, was carefully reading Rick's rookie service record, his training camp instructor's recommendation, and a paper copy of a P-1 file.

All of these materials pointed to the same conclusion: although Rick had never handled a firearm before enlisting and had shown no talent or aptitude for sniping in his first two weeks, after receiving the relevant training, he had earned his sniper badge in just eight weeks at the rookie training camp.

Before then, only two people in the history of the rookie training camps had received such an honor, and both had graduated from Tarsonis's only sniper academy.