Guild War

Augustus stepped down from the armored vehicle, embracing each of his family members one by one, swearing to them that he would return alive. Then he waved goodbye until the Mengsk family convoy gradually faded into the distance.

Once the convoy had become a string of black specks on the horizon, Augustus dragged his suitcase—fitted with a gene-locked ID tag—toward the bronze gates of the conscription center.

"Sir, I bet you're here to join the glorious Federal Marine Corps," one of the Federal Marines said, looking at Augustus with a formulaic smile plastered across his face.

"We fight for the Confederacy!" another soldier chimed in.

"Yes, I've passed all the tests and qualification reviews. Today is my enlistment day. Where can I find the recruitment officer?"

Augustus frowned. The bronze gates of the conscription center stood wide open, and the front hall was decorated as lavishly as an opera house, yet it was completely empty.

Years of continuous war had dragged the Terran Confederacy into a quagmire. The economy was sluggish, citizens' living standards had plummeted, and enlistment rates had hit rock bottom—especially on Korhal, which had always craved independence and harbored intense hatred for the Confederate government.

It was widely believed that only irredeemable scum of society, homeless drifters, and criminals would join the Federal Marine Corps.

"From now on, we're comrades," the Marine said. "Go through the door, turn left at the fourth room. The officer is waiting for you."

Augustus nodded and was about to leave when the two Marines turned their gaze to a young man hurrying in behind him. "Sir, I bet you're here to join the glorious Federal Marine Corps."

"We fight for the Confederacy!"

This struck Augustus as odd. Not only were their words identical, but their tone was exactly the same as before. The strange feeling lingered, as if they were NPCs in a game, only capable of speaking according to pre-programmed scripts.

Augustus hoped it was just his imagination.

Following the soldiers' directions, Augustus passed through the gates and the front hall, entered a long corridor, and found his recruitment officer in the enlistment office numbered 404.

The recruitment officer, wearing a deep blue uniform with a golden Bravery Medal pinned to his chest, was a young officer. The rank insignia on his chest showed he was a lieutenant. This lieutenant had cold blue eyes, neatly trimmed blond hair, and a barely noticeable scar at the corner of his eye.

The Federal officer had been staring at Augustus since he entered the room. After taking the file folder—its cover embossed with the Confederate emblem—the lieutenant flipped through it casually before putting it away. "The second son of the famous Senator Angus Mengsk, a top student at Sterling Academy. On Korhal, that's practically a golden ticket into government departments, major interstellar corporations, and mega-enterprises."

"To be honest, this is the first time I've seen an aristocrat like you join the military. Korhal isn't Tarsonis—few nobles here follow the old tradition of sending their family members to serve."

"What made you give up a bright future to become an ordinary Marine?" he asked, looking at Augustus.

"To protect all of humanity," Augustus said with a shrug.

"...Mr. Augustus Mengsk, I guarantee that joining the Federal Marine Corps will not make you regret it. For a long time, we have traveled through the vast star sea, exploring one unknown and mysterious world after another. We fight alien beasts, Kel-Morians, and Umojans, defending the people of the Outer Colonies and their precious private property." The officer nodded, seemingly accepting Augustus's answer.

"It's a romantic and honorable profession."

"Too bad, when it comes to killing, it's neither honorable nor romantic." Augustus paused, then said.

The officer smiled, offering no argument, but his expression gradually turned serious. He cleared his throat and said, "Listen, kid. The Federal Marine Corps follows three principles: Strength, Pride, and Discipline. We fight to protect the interests of all Terrans. Usually, the Marines move with the colonial fleets, but after those shameless Kel-Morians tore up the trade agreement, we've had to shift to fighting their so-called 'army'—a bunch of miners and farmers."

"We will surely win this righteous war."

Augustus gave an awkward but polite smile. He knew how this war had started. Though the Kel-Morians had struck first, the Terrans were hardly innocent victims forced to take up arms.

In truth, the war's spark came from the Terran Confederacy's bullying. The Confederate Senate had ordered the Marines to seize crystal deposits discovered by Kel-Morian survey teams and private mines far from their homeworld. Large numbers of Kel-Morian miners and surveyors were dragged to Confederate courts, tried under Confederate law, and thrown into prison on trumped-up charges.

After that, those mineral veins were transferred to the names of the ancient Founding Families and new nobles in the Confederate Senate.

"Alright, head to the rooftop landing pad next. You'll be transported on the latest APOD-33 transport ship. It's equipped with a warp drive, so you'll reach the training planet in just a few days."

The lieutenant checked his watch. "Departure is at 2:00 PM sharp. Your ship is the 089 of this model. The ground crew and mechanics call her the Peace Dove. Keep your eyes open—no one's going to guide you."

When Augustus entered the waiting hall, only a few dozen recruits were scattered among the hundreds of seats. They hadn't yet changed into uniforms and wore a motley assortment of clothes. Their only common trait was their young, vibrant faces.

As he walked, Augustus quietly observed their clothing and demeanor. After all, these people might become his comrades.

Most were hunched over all-in-one personal terminals—similar to phones—killing the boring wait for the ship by diving into virtual games, e-novels, and virtual idols.

Augustus even recognized a former classmate from middle school among them, but he didn't bother to say hello.

Others, Augustus could tell at a glance, came from the bottom of society—life's failures or their children. Their clothes were the cheapest industrial fiber products, with not a single electronic device on them. Most wore expressions of dejection, their eyes vacant.

"Soldiers, assemble immediately and enter the boarding platform through Gate 4!" Suddenly, a gruff male voice rang out through the hall.

"Follow the signs on the platform to find your ship. Don't run around! Or the guards will blow your dumb asses off!"

"Didn't they say 2:00?" The hall stirred into chaos. Someone rolled up their sleeve, repeatedly checking their mechanical watch in disbelief. The screech of shoes scraping against the tiled floor filled the air with an unpleasant grating sound.

Augustus quickly passed through the corridor toward the landing platform. As soon as he stepped out, the roar of ship engines, the wind, and the smell of machine oil baking in the sun hit him all at once.

While sprinting toward his ship, Augustus caught sight of many near-scrap antique vessels and a few battered star-jumpers.

His original memories told Augustus that the Terran Confederacy was still using decades-old transport ships to move soldiers. As long as these ships didn't crash mid-flight or lose critical parts, they would never be retired.

His father, Angus, had mentioned countless times the corruption of the Terran Confederate Council on Tarsonis. The assets controlled by the Founding Families, who ran the Council, were enough to fill the Andoria Trench on Korhal—yet they still greedily exploited the people.

At least Augustus didn't have to worry about his ship disintegrating upon entering a subspace warp corridor. As his recruitment officer had said, the ship transporting the recruits was brand new and shiny—at least looking far safer than a pile of scrap metal.

The contract has been sent out, everyone. Rest assured and enjoy the read.