Harnack heard Augustus clear his throat softly. Augustus stepped between Kerrigan and Lisa, addressing them: "Ladies, let's leave these small matters for another time. Let's each take a step back. I believe your conflict is far smaller than you imagine."
"Calm yourselves, set aside prejudice, try to understand each other as people—you might even grow to like one another."
Augustus carried himself like a leader above personal desire, a man burdened with the great mission of toppling the Confederacy. Naturally, he could not afford to be entangled in affairs of love. Everyone knew that as a leader, he remained unmarried, and if he were to wed, he would certainly choose a lifelong partner who could aid his cause.
Many nobles of Korhal believed that if Augustus truly overthrew the Terran Confederacy, then to consolidate power over Tarsonis he would have to crush the nobles who had survived the massacre—banish them or wipe them out—while drawing in the remaining Old Families to build a new ruling class. That was what a true ruler, a monarch, was expected to do.
And so, marrying a female heir of one of the Old Families was considered the best political option.
"I've no need to bicker with a little girl," Lisa said, displaying the magnanimity of a mature woman.
"I don't understand why you hold such hostility toward me," Kerrigan asked, though she already knew the answer.
"You…" Lisa nearly burst out swearing, but held back. "Obviously…"
"Harnack, what are you whispering about?" Augustus turned toward the men nearby, realizing they were quietly enjoying his misfortune.
At his words, Harnack and the others immediately spread apart and strode toward him.
Harnack straightened his Revolutionary Army uniform, smoothed his tall crest of hair, and shouted loudly: "We're here for the meeting, boss! He says you're pressed for time—you're due to leave for the fleet at once!"
Kerrigan and Lisa each took a step back, but neither offered the other a kind look.
"What's this about? I thought you were playing both sides with the women," Harnack muttered under his breath as he approached Augustus.
"This is really too much to ask, but I'll handle it," Augustus replied in an even lower voice.
"I'd say it's about as hard as terraforming a neutron star," Harnack chuckled. "You're too good to everyone—and that's not a good thing."
"It's people like me and Tychus—scum, really—and yet you're still willing to bare your heart to us."
"Don't belittle yourself." Augustus patted Harnack on the shoulder. "You're more likable than you think."
Everyone could see it: the loud, unruly Harnack—who never flinched even before an Umojan Defense Fleet admiral—looked for all the world like a tame redneck rooster when standing in front of Augustus.
"I gathered you here because there's business to discuss." Augustus looked toward Warfield as he approached, waving him over. With a gesture, he had Kerrigan move to his right side, putting a space between her and Lisa.
"Now that you've arrived on Mar Sara, we have fourteen battlecruisers in total—equivalent to a full squadron of the Terran Confederacy Navy. Though we're fighting from a position of rest, against any Confederacy fleet we still can't claim an absolute advantage, unless their formation is understrength."
"We need to draft a complete new battle plan."
"Let's head into the conference room first." Augustus then turned to the still-sullen Lisa. "Lisa, you should come in and listen too."
"With pleasure." Lisa was the first to push open the conference room doors and step inside.
At once, the tense atmosphere eased.
"Back when we were in Umoja, every time you wrote letters asking after your family or the Korhal immigrants, you never once mentioned her," Harnack said to Augustus at just the right moment. "Sometimes you even asked if I'd gotten myself into trouble, but not a single letter had so much as an 'L' for Cassidy in it."
"I really did forget," Augustus spread his hands.
"That's my fault."
"It isn't your fault," Kerrigan corrected him. "You have too many matters to handle. You're the leader of the Revolutionary Army—you will, in the end, hold this world in your hands."
"This girl's your fan too." Harnack burst out laughing. "She worships you."
"You admire Marshal Augustus too. In fact, you admire him the most out of all the Heaven's Devils," Kerrigan said, showing no embarrassment at Harnack's expense.
"You—y-you're talking nonsense." Harnack flushed red. "How could I—shut your mouth, you damned psionic!"
"In truth, I've stopped worrying about Lisa falling back into drugs," Augustus said with a smile, turning to Harnack. "Instead, I worry about you stirring up trouble at the Umojan military academy. You need to remember, Harnack—when you do something foolish, it's not only your own face you disgrace."
"Except for a few trivial 'little accidents,' I had a pretty smooth time at the Umojan military academy. I even learned the cello—Umojans dislike synthetic music, and this ancient Earth instrument is considered a mark of refinement. I'll play something for you all next time." Harnack showed not the slightest shame.
"'Little accidents'?" Warfield cut in. "You mean when you misread a character and accidentally launched a hydrogen-helium rocket? If the atmospheric defense platform hadn't intercepted it, the academy's headmaster would've had no choice but to kill himself in shame."
"I've thought about it for a long time and still can't figure it out—are you illiterate?"
"God, that's terrifying." Lundstein shuddered for another reason entirely. "When you play, even the Lord Himself would jump down from heaven to grab you by the throat and beg you to stop."
"Alright, alright!" Harnack couldn't take any more. "Let's start the meeting already."
Augustus pushed open the door and stepped inside, finding the staff officers and military advisors in the conference hall all staring at him.
"What's happened?" Augustus asked, glancing at them.
"The department monitoring the communications channel of the Mar Sara governor's office just confirmed some intelligence," said his chief of staff. "Colonel Edmund Duke's Alpha Squadron has responded to the governor's distress signal."
"They're the closest fleet to Mar Sara. The others are still patrolling elsewhere in the Koprulu sector."
"Alpha Squadron—"
In Augustus's mind suddenly appeared the image of Edmund Duke: that sharp, ridged forehead and snake-like triangular eyes. His shoulders jutted high, arms long and thick, like a silverback gorilla perpetually on the verge of rage.
"How many ships did Edmund Duke bring?" Augustus turned to his chief of staff.
"Normally, a naval squadron would consist of ten to fifteen battlecruisers. But Alpha Squadron has already lost its flagship and several warships in previous fleet engagements. Whether they've received replacements in these past months is still unknown." The chief of staff set down a stack of files in his hand and looked back at Augustus. "Their communications with the Mar Sara colonial governor's office were extremely brief."
"Unlike the governor's nonstop bombardment of distress signals, Alpha Squadron's flagship only sent back a short reply, along with an estimated arrival time—about forty standard hours later. Our old friend Edmund seems to think it beneath him to waste more words on the Mar Sara governor."
"Oh? And what exactly did he say?" Warfield asked, his distaste for Duke plain. The men of Arcturus's 33rd Ground Assault Division never cared much for Alpha Squadron, and least of all for the arrogance of Edmund Duke, the vainglorious head of the Blood Hawks.
The Duke family was full of rising stars. Long before the colonial flagship Nagglfar descended onto the surface of Tarsonis, this illustrious family had already been leaders among the settlers. They had held the reins of the military voice for generations, their roots in the Terran Confederacy deep and immovable.
Yet Edmund remained an oddity even among his eccentric kin. With nearly a lifetime spent in the navy and after fighting through the entire Guild Wars, he should by rights have earned a general's star. And yet, to this day, he was still only a colonel.
It wasn't for lack of ability or family backing. Warfield and Augustus both knew the truth well enough: Duke's victories were never as glorious as he boasted. His defeats—and the disasters he caused, hidden beneath countless military records—had directly blocked his promotion.
"Edmund simply said the governor of Mar Sara is a complete idiot. The only reason the rebels haven't put a bullet in his head is sheer dumb luck," reported Augustus's chief of staff.
"The Confederacy's Parliament has lost all face. Not only the Kel-Morian Combine and the Umojan Protectorate, but even civilian media outlets and private radio stations have picked up the Mar Sara governor's cries for help." The chief of staff, nearly fifty and once a military academy principal, did nothing to hide his contempt for the governor and his bureaucrats.
"The Confederate government on Tarsonis can no longer cover up the fact that its forces on Mar Sara were utterly routed. Very soon, the entire Koprulu Sector will know that the Confederacy has suffered yet another defeat at the hands of the revolutionaries."
"This is the best propaganda campaign we could hope for." A stirring smile spread across Augustus's face as he gestured to the others seated in the hall. "And this is just the beginning."
"This undoubtedly reveals to the world the incompetence of the colonial government officials and the unstoppable momentum of the revolutionary fighters. Justice and fairness have always stood on our side. For too long, the people's eyes have been blinded by all manner of prettified news. Today is the day they come closest to the truth."
Before anyone realized it, everyone had begun to applaud. A military adviser, using shorthand symbols he had devised himself, quickly jotted down Augustus's words on his personal terminal. In the future, should this adviser—who had never left much of an impression on Augustus—ever decide to write the biography of Augustus Mengsk, he would no doubt quote these very lines.
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