New Recruit Raynor

On the first day, the hellish training Augustus had imagined did not arrive as scheduled; in fact, it was already eight o'clock in the evening local time on Turaxis II when they arrived.

At this hour, the massive underground hangar was filled with ships and warships taking off and landing, while troop transport trucks carried hundreds of new recruits toward the ground barracks, which sat on an ever-steepening incline.

Goliath combat robots, several stories tall, stood like steel giants. Even at a distance from the moving group of AVV-5 Arclite Siege Tanks, the deafening roar was enough to make the recruits' eardrums thrum.

Everything operated in an orderly fashion amidst the noise.

Before Augustus could locate his unit, the "considerate" non-commissioned officers, as if looking for trouble, made Augustus and his comrades "lick the flight deck clean of the dirt left by their new boots" before they were allowed to sleep.

Only when the recruits finally convinced the NCOs that the flight deck was cleaner than their own polished, scrubbed-to-death boots did Augustus receive a detailed paper roster of the companies, platoons, and squads for each recruit training camp.

The bottom of the list specifically noted that it had been randomly generated by the Adjutant within the Federal Marine Corps Secure Data Network, though it felt somewhat like a thief posting a sign saying "no thief lives here."

However, powerful families or the sons of generals did not need to maneuver in this regard, as their children would never start their promotion path as privates. Usually, after being gilded at top-tier universities or elite military academies on Tarsonis, the children of the nobility would be commissioned directly as second lieutenants. If the scions of Tarsonis's founding families wished to serve, their starting point was undoubtedly even higher.

Many heirs of the great Tarsonis families followed the ancient Colonial Era tradition of entering the Federal Marine Corps to temper their character with strength and courage.

Yet, in the enterprising Prospector Era—the first fifty to one hundred years after the colonial motherships from Earth landed on Tarsonis—this tradition of noble heirs being required to serve had gradually been forgotten.

Only the original founding families, who were constantly obsessed with flaunting their noble bloodlines, still followed this tradition, but the heirs and noble scions usually held administrative positions far from the front lines and danger.

The most famous of these was the Duke Family of Tarsonis; almost every generation of the Duke family boasted a general.

Augustus realized that the nobility of Korhal was different from the ancient Elder Families of Tarsonis. They could cover the sky with one hand on Korhal IV, while the old nobility of Tarsonis controlled the thirteen core worlds of the Federation, including Korhal, as well as many more Edge Worlds.

Angus Mengsk's private armed forces could not possibly be a match for the Federal Marine Corps, and the Marine Corps, that terrifying war machine, would only take orders from the Federal government and the Tarsonis Elder Families he sought to resist and overthrow.

Slogans and political propaganda alone could not topple the corrupt Federal government; this was perhaps the reason for Angus's eventual failure.

However, Augustus, who was feeling anxious about his situation, was soon drawn to a name on the list: Company D, 2nd Platoon, 1st Squad, James Eugene Raynor.

Same name?

Augustus could not help but associate this name with the man of many titles from the StarCraft game.

It was possible; it was currently 2488, more than a decade before the beginning of Wings of Liberty, and the game's protagonist, Jim Raynor, was likely just a green kid at this time.

Fortunately, Augustus did not need to let his imagination run wild; he would soon be able to discern the truth.

After collecting his bedding from the quartermaster's office, along with standard-issue daily necessities including a sonic toothbrush, a sonic razor, and a titanium alloy short-bladed combat knife, Augustus boarded a military bus heading toward the ground-based modular barracks.

The recruit barracks were incredibly spacious, with walls made of sturdy Plasteel alloy plates and floors covered in non-slip, wood-textured tiles.

The wide, rectangular dormitory contained six cots, each about seven feet long and five feet wide, along with private sonic shower stalls, restrooms, and even a holographic projector.

This did not match the rumors on the UNN, which claimed that the Federal Marine Corps was short on supplies at the front and that recruits had to sleep in the stables and barns of local farmers.

In UNN reports, retired veterans claimed in interviews that the living conditions of the Federal Marine Corps were only slightly worse than a luxury villa on Tarsonis. Every recruit was assigned a robotic servant, lived a regular life, and only had to complete a mere two hours of training a day, much like clocking in for work.

Even with his prior expectations, Augustus still suspected that his father, Angus, had secretly donated a sum of money to the Federal Marine Corps on Turaxis II to secure such preferential treatment, though the Federal Marine system likely wouldn't dare accept a donation from a revolutionary.

Augustus was the last to arrive at the dormitory. He dropped his backpack, entered the shower to wash up, and tidied his appearance before preparing to meet the comrades he would be fighting alongside.

When Augustus stepped out of the shower, the previously noisy recruit dormitory immediately went quiet. Just as Augustus was feeling quite satisfied with this, an untimely voice rang out: "Look, a pretty boy. I bet the scumbags in Company C would fight to the death for his ass!"

A red-haired recruit, lying on his bed in flip-flops, shouted loudly and immediately sat upright, looking ready for a fight.

"But regardless, while they're eyeing you, as the recruit sergeant, I'll at least fight to the death to protect your asshole." Augustus stared into the red-haired recruit's deep blue eyes. Although he was a recruit on his first day just like the others, Augustus had been appointed as the squad leader for this recruit squad as a recruit sergeant.

This phenomenon was not common, and Augustus had only been informed when he received the squad roster. Even with his toes, Augustus could guess that this was undoubtedly due to his older brother, a division commander in the Ground Assault Division; Arcturus Mengsk could easily have used certain means to have the training camp officers manipulate the process behind the scenes.

Of course, Arcturus himself might not have been aware; after all, there were plenty of people willing to curry favor with this promising, talented general. The highest-ranking officer at the recruit training camp was only a major, and Arcturus was already a colonel; once the war ended, with his accumulated military merits, he would soon become a general.

Augustus hadn't earned the position of acting corporal because of his looks, but purely because he had connections. No matter what the former Augustus might have thought, the current one felt it was quite nice.

Some of the troublemakers among the recruits were naturally dissatisfied that someone had been placed above them for no apparent reason, but compared to the actual power Augustus held, this was merely a minor annoyance.

"Sergeant Mengsk, don't mind him. Hank has a unique way of saying hello. Ha~ I believe he's just jealous of your 'magnificent beauty'." Before the atmosphere could turn even worse, another recruit with short black hair smoothed things over.

This black-haired recruit had sharp brown eyes and a high-bridged nose. Compared to the fair-skinned Augustus, his skin was darker and drier, but he was not lacking in the collagen that a young man should have.

Augustus estimated he was only a year or two older than himself. Judging by the faint scent of machine oil on him, he was likely an apprentice at some private mechanical repair shop before joining the military.

Neither of them remembered the fleeting glance they had exchanged earlier in the underground hangar.

Many people's impression of this character stopped at the bald, tough guy driving a Vulture in the StarCraft 1 era, and even then, Jim Raynor was already middle-aged.

By comparison, the image of the Raider leader from StarCraft II, with his lined face and neatly trimmed beard, was perhaps more deeply ingrained in people's hearts.

Jim Raynor was one of the most impressive and famous racial protagonists in the StarCraft games, and his story could be said to span the eras from StarCraft I to StarCraft II.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Jim Raynor. That jerk is Harnack Hank." Raynor offered a friendly smile, then pointed to the others.

"This is Tom Omo, my elementary school classmate. We're all from Shiloh. You might not have heard of it, but I'll tell you, Shiloh is damn good."

"And this is Connor Ward, Zander Marx, Amy, Brandon..."

Thanks to Agent Rongrong, Nan Aozi, Laxil, A Dream of a Thousand Years, and commandllche for the tips. Thanks to En-Ou-Ah-Ha-Ha-Xia, Mengxin Rabbit, Agent Rongrong, Laxil, and A Dream of a Thousand Years for the monthly tickets. Thanks to (some names are a bit hard to type, emmmm).