"You're Augustus," Matt said hastily, trying to change the subject, doing everything he could to escape from Mira—while Mira, acting as though she already had him in her grasp, didn't care at all.
"You—"
"Yes." Augustus responded to him gently.
"I am Augustus Mengsk. Leader of the Korhal Revolutionary Army—an ordinary man."
"I'm sure you've already heard of Korhal IV and our story. In the reports from the UNN Universal News Network, the Revolutionary Army is portrayed as a band of rioting madmen and murderous demons. But what I want to tell you is a completely different story," he said.
"Far from Tyrador, on Korhal IV, there are people unafraid of power and tyranny. Regardless of age or gender, they have all risen in rebellion, striving to overthrow the Confederacy's despotism. The Confederacy Navy destroyed Korhal IV as retaliation for our revolution, but the flames of revolution continue to burn across every corner of the Koprulu Sector."
"All it needs is one more spark, and the Confederacy will turn to ashes."
"That's great!" Matt raised his arm in excitement, as if the Revolutionary Army had already won.
"Don't think revolution is something glorious," Augustus said. "Many, many good brothers have sacrificed their lives, all of them giving everything in battles against the Confederacy's minions."
"I'm not afraid," Matt said. "I'm not afraid of sacrifice."
"For the revolution, Marshal Mengsk, I'm ready to give my life at any time. Take me with you, Marshal. I've had enough of this unbearably dull life on Tyrador IX."
Augustus and Raynor exchanged glances, each understanding the other's expression.
"No." Augustus immediately refused sternly. "You're still too young. If you wish to join the Revolutionary Army, you must at least have your parents' consent."
"It's fine," Matt said sincerely. "My parents are also supporters of the Revolutionary Army. It's a Horner family tradition for the second son to travel when young. My grandfather came to Tyrador IX that way and settled here."
"Still no." Augustus's expression changed. "I can't agree to that."
"I think Matt can handle hardship," Raynor said at this point. "I can arrange a position for him as a trainee sailor aboard the Hyperion. He can start from scratch, learn directly from the ship's officers, and study the theoretical knowledge along the way. Once things settle down, we'll send him to a university on Umoja."
Augustus remained silent for a long time, then reluctantly nodded.
"If your parents agree," he emphasized, "you must calm down and think carefully about whether this is just an impulsive act—so that you won't regret it later."
"That's wonderful." Matt's face lit up with joy.
At that moment, gunfire suddenly rang out from outside the restaurant.
At the beginning, only sporadic gunfire could be heard in the restaurant. The people of Tyrador had no habit of setting off fireworks during this season; it merely sounded like the colonial police officers of New Canaan were arresting vicious criminals, or perhaps two local minor nobles were imitating the ancient knightly spirit and dueling with pistols.
The gunfire seemed far away, the sound so faint that it was almost imperceptible amid the resonant melody of the restaurant band's cellos, drowned out by the music and the chatter of the guests.
Even those who noticed the shots paid little attention. Ever since New Canaan had become the most prosperous metropolis of Tyrador IX, gun incidents had been incessant.
It was not uncommon for desperate or hopeless contract laborers to take the risk of attempting to hijack a ship at gunpoint in order to flee this miserable world. The frequent turf wars between local criminal syndicates and dockworker gangs were likewise the reason why New Canaan's crime rate and number of shootings remained so high.
Everything was still proceeding as usual. While Augustus and the others tilted their heads to listen, the restaurant's waiters continued to serve Tyrador's local delicacies as usual, including golden, crispy-roasted Tyrador free-range chicken, narwhal skin, and vegetable salad.
"It's gunfire," Sarah Kerrigan was the first to point out the key issue.
"That's probably the last sound I want to hear right now." Without changing expression, Raynor placed his hand on the Colt military revolver at his black windproof coat, and the other Revolutionary Guards made similar movements.
Years of crawling and fighting on battlefields had ingrained in them the habit of maintaining constant vigilance. Even in the most comfortable surroundings, Confederacy assassins might strike at any moment against the supreme leader of the Revolution.
"I didn't authorize any assault against local armed forces—have our men been exposed?" Augustus said with a frown. By now, he could already hear the blare of steam whistles and the screams of women. The gunfire was growing more and more intense in a short span, even overpowering the music.
"Probably not our people," Corporal Faraday stood up, moved to Augustus's side, and positioned himself between the Marshal and the glass display window beside them.
"Could be pirates," Augustus speculated.
"Inconceivable. This place isn't just in the heart of New Canaan, it's also—" he looked toward the Tyrador Knights' headquarters outside the display window.
"Have they forgotten that this is Tyrador Knights' territory too?"
"How pathetic." The words burst out of Raynor's mouth.
Only now did the people in the restaurant begin to panic. The music of the band abruptly ceased after a single off-beat pause. The guests here were members of New Canaan's upper-middle class and tourists from other planets; their composure lasted only a brief moment—especially after they repeatedly failed to reach the New Canaan Police Department through any communication channel.
At this point, everyone could clearly hear the screams and gunfire outside drawing ever closer.
When the first person in the restaurant screamed and bolted for the door, the rush to flee became inevitable.
"Sarah, can your telepathy sense who's firing? They should already be within the limit of your psionic detection range." Even as nearly everyone inside had fled, Augustus remained as steady as a mountain.
"My telepathy tells me the shooters are probably from the same group." Kerrigan pressed one hand tightly against her temple, seemingly pained by the waves of fear and panic from the people in the streets outside.
"I can only perceive their shallow surface thoughts—there are about four or five of them, their minds full of hatred toward the Terran Confederacy's Old Families." Resting her left elbow on the table, her expression was one of pain. "These people come from some extrastellar resistance organization."
It would still take several more years before Kerrigan could control her excessively powerful psionic sensitivity. When she read too many minds over a wide area, the surface thoughts of humans inevitably poured into her consciousness. And these surface thoughts usually originated from the most primitive and filthy emotions of humanity, from those moments of violent outburst.
For a long time, high-grade psionics had been plagued by this overwhelming telepathic sensitivity.
The younger high-grade psionics, in particular, often heard "voices that did not exist" when unable to control this power, displaying an unfathomable "divinity." This was one of the reasons why voodoo cults and religious fanaticism flourished throughout the Confederate Alliance's colonial worlds.
Normally, joining the Psionic Program was the best choice for high-grade psionics, for such people were destined never to be ordinary.
"They are assassinating a descendant of the Old Families. The target had been hiding aboard a space station in synchronous orbit around Tyrador."
"Someone from the Sons of Korhal," Raynor said in disbelief.
"No, impossible," Augustus said firmly. "The Sons of Korhal would never slaughter civilians for no reason."
"Not our people—most likely another Terran rebel organization," Kerrigan said, pressing her forehead. "Their organization's name is the Federal Resistance, led by a man called Cliff Nadaner. Beyond that, I can't know any more for now."
Throughout the vast territory of the Terran Confederacy, those daring to resist the Confederacy's tyranny were never limited to the Korhal rebels alone. Some resistance groups had even older histories—for example, the Abram Rebellion on the Antiga Prime had already appeared before the year 2480; certain rebel organizations might have existed for as long as a century.
These resistance groups varied widely in nature and organization. Among them were bandits and pirates who raised the banner of overthrowing the Confederacy's decayed rule while committing their own crimes—one vivid example was the Free Revolutionary Army Augustus had previously encountered on Turaxis II.
Others were small yet elite insurgent organizations formed by the most cynical and justice-obsessed individuals within the Confederacy. Among the more well-known were the mysterious Fist of Redemption and the Free Knights, both enjoying relatively good reputations for sheltering revolutionary figures persecuted by the Confederacy.
As for the final category of Federal Resistance groups, it was difficult to say whether they took up arms to fight the Confederacy or merely to vent their hatred of injustice and take revenge on society. These groups typically recruited large numbers of impoverished people from the lowest social strata, manipulating their members' minds through the propagation of hatred or by means resembling religious indoctrination.
This type of resistance would drive its members to assassinate members of the Confederacy's Old Families and government officials through suicide attacks, achieving their aims by the cruelest methods. After the end of the Guild Wars, more and more people who had lost their families joined such groups, their only goal being to witness the Confederacy's destruction with their own eyes—or perish alongside it.
However, aside from the Korhal Revolutionary Army, which had already swept across multiple Confederate sectors, all other Federal resistance movements rose up only on single planets or even within single cities—and without exception, were swiftly and decisively suppressed by the Confederate military.
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---