"It looks like my mom and dad never touched the money I sent them," Raynor sighed, as he did most days lately, sounding utterly defeated.
"The last time I talked to my dad over video, he looked even thinner than before. First the bonus, then the weapons we sold, and finally the profit from the crystals back in New Apollon—that's three payouts in total. They haven't spent a single cent."
"They didn't even use that 'questionably sourced' money to buy food," he muttered.
"Your folks are weird, Jim," said Harnack. "Starving to death, and they care whether the money's clean?"
"They taught me from a young age that a person should feed themselves with money earned through hard work. Any gain not earned is shameful," Raynor said bitterly. "I should've known—saying I just found the money by accident was never going to fly."
"Dammit, why would you listen to an idiot like Harnack?" Ryk Kydd snapped angrily.
"Jim must've been drunk when he wired that money," Augustus muttered, shaking his head. "Remember what I told you guys? Someone on Tarsonis is trying to invite me to some old lady's birthday party. Must've been some upper-level notice, because they approved a two-week leave for me just like that."
"I'm guessing they won't let me retire until I've gone to Tarsonis," Augustus continued. "I told Warfield I'd be bringing a squad of Heaven's Devils with me, and he gave the green light."
"It's half a sector from Meinhoff to Tarsonis. We can stop over in Shiloh for a day," he added.
"Shiloh's not a good place. They could move to Korhal or Umoja instead. I'll have someone arrange jobs for them."
"No. Not Korhal," Raynor immediately shook his head.
"You know that place is going to become the epicenter of the next war."
...
Meinhoff Geosynchronous Orbital Station, Launch Bay.
At Launch Bay C, Augustus and First Squad of his Heaven's Devils were waiting for the arrival of an interstellar jumper. Also waiting alongside them was Rory Swann, whom Augustus had recently hired to work in the shipyards and tech labs of the Korhal Revolutionary Army.
"You told me Korhal IV is facing some 'minor trouble'?"
While they waited, Swann turned to Augustus beside him.
"If you call a revolution 'minor trouble,' then sure," Augustus replied without hiding the truth.
"Heh, I figured you'd say something like, 'All we've gotta do is kick those nobles in the ass and flip their fancy houses upside down,'" Swann chuckled without the slightest hint of fear. "You've always had a way of making hard things sound easy."
"Like when someone says Mr. Mengsk plans to bring down the sun from the sky, and he just goes, 'Oh, we'll just build a pyramid tall enough to reach deep space. Easy enough'."
"I'm not here to lecture you, Swann," Augustus said. "But someone's got to step up and inspire people—and I often have to be that guy. Anyway, forget that for now. Do you remember which exit you're supposed to take at the Styrling Skyport? And what your contact looks like?"
"I'm memorizing it," Swann replied. "Shouldn't be too hard. I'm no dumb dwarf—you don't have to keep reminding me."
Just a few days ago, Augustus had tracked down Rory Swann again—now unemployed after the Heaven's Devils had disbanded.
Augustus signed a five-year contract with Swann, offering him 20 million Federal credits—roughly 15 million Kel-Morian coins. It was enough to keep the Swann family afloat until the Federal military finally withdrew.
Swann had said plainly that ever since Federal-appointed officials took over the New Apollon mining district and factories, the Kel-Morians had been enslaved. They were fed meager rations and lived like slaves—far worse than when the Heaven's Devils were still around.
Rebellion had always been inevitable. Yet even so, his family refused to leave Meinhoff. So Swann chose to follow Augustus and find work—because he had to earn enough to keep his people alive.
"My cousins won't be heading to Korhal for a while yet, but I'll need to recruit some local help to work on the upgraded version of the Goliath assault robot and design new powered armor. Good thing you gave me those two decommissioned prototypes—CMC suits and gauss rifles," Swann added, shaking his head. "Let's just hope the Korhalans are as reliable as the people on Meinhoff."
"Where'd you dig up that treasure trove?"
"Back on Polk's Pride, we ran into some unlucky gangsters. I suspect they were funded by some rich rebel group," Augustus told him.
"There's more than one rebel faction? Well, the more the merrier," Swann smacked his lips.
"So? Will you be able to reverse-engineer the Goliath and powered armor schematics?" Augustus still wasn't at ease.
"If we had to start from scratch, it'd take years. But we Kel-Morians have already been studying these CMC suits and Goliath bots. We've overcome some major technical hurdles. Besides, didn't you say the Umojans are sending experts too?" Swann replied.
"Umojan reverse engineering is phenomenal. They've probably already mastered perfect replicas of powered armor and Goliaths. Some of my relatives working abroad even said if the Umojans ever got their hands on a Federal battlecruiser, they could build an elite fleet in no time."
"The Umojans are also trying to reconstruct mysterious alien ruins they found on certain planets, hoping to reverse-engineer alien tech. But who knows? Maybe those aliens were wiped out millions of years ago. Or maybe the whole thing's just a cosmic joke."
"Maybe there really are aliens out there—who knows?" Augustus shrugged.
At that moment, a large shuttle flew into the port. Augustus and the others waved farewell to Swann.
"Good luck to you, Mr. Swann of Meinhoff."
"And good luck to you too, Boss Mengsk." Swann gave a wave, then sank into a circular chair nearby, already beginning to feel a quiet sense of melancholy at the thought of leaving his homeland.
Fate truly was strange. Just a few months ago, he never would have imagined he'd one day leave his home to seek a living elsewhere. Augustus's complete trust in Swann's abilities was certainly a factor, but more than that, it was the offer—an amount no man in his position could refuse.
In the end, Rory Swann somehow found himself appointed head of the Weapons Research and Manufacturing Division of the Korhal Revolutionary Army, complete with several R&D stations and labs under the Mengsk Group now under his command.
At this moment, Swann recalled something Augustus had told him more than once:
Swann, you're destined to become a great inventor. Keep thinking, keep learning.
And make more friends in weapons design.
The first part still made sense. The second… not so much.
...
Centerville, Shilo, Terran Federation Territory
From geosynchronous orbit, the planet Shilo appeared as a brilliant shade of orange, its main continents separated by vast oceans.
With habitable temperatures and a reliable supply of water, Shilo had become one of the Federation's colonies—but it was far from a prosperous world. The planet lacked mineral and metal resources, and most of its terrain was dry land coated in alkaline peat. Farming here required backbreaking labor and constant struggle.
Unlike a major core world like Korhal IV, Shilo was spared from war thanks to its complete lack of features or strategic value. Yet its people still suffered, driven to starvation by crushing taxation.
"Maybe we could set up a base for the Revolutionary Army here," Augustus remarked as he stepped off the rented hovercar, setting foot on Shiloh's black-gray soil for the first time. "The people here are resilient—and brave. More importantly, they're starving."
"It's even bleaker than I remember," said Raynor, standing behind him, looking wistfully at the domed structures of Centerville.
"This little town sent a lot of folks off to war. But how many ever came back? We fought for the Federation—yet the Federation let our parents and families starve."
"And the Revolutionary Army will change all of that," Augustus promised.
Raynor then led Augustus and the others toward his home. Like most buildings on Shiloh, the colonial houses were built mostly underground, with 80 to 90 percent of each dwelling sunken into the soil to escape the planet's blistering heat and biting winters.
At the door to Raynor's home, Augustus met Raynor's mother—a woman with emerald eyes and jet-black hair. She was alarmingly thin, and her once-beautiful face had lost all its fullness.
It was this woman who had taught Raynor to be honest and kind.
Carol Raynor.
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