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SCL Chapter 80: The Independence Equation
🕑 Added 2025-05-22 23:58:44 +0000 UTCAt present, Augustus’s headquarters consisted only of a few financial officers and staff temporarily transferred from family businesses and the Korhal Revolutionary Army. Lisa Cassidy, one of the Heaven’s Devils, was busy sorting documents beside a clattering automatic typewriter. Due to his quiet nature and steady work ethic, the rocket trooper Connor Ward had been temporarily appointed as the leader of Augustus’s personal guard.
As for Harnack and Zander, Augustus had sent them to act as instructors for the Styrling Guard Regiment, currently being formed in the city of Styrling.
The Mengsk family had purchased a large number of deserted islands and abandoned starports across the seas as training grounds for new recruits. The Terran Federation government would soon notice something unusual — but at the moment, they were too busy negotiating with the defeated Kel-Morian Combine and deploying their fleet to plunder colonial resources and project intimidation.
By the time those negotiations wrapped up, Korhal IV would be ready to declare its independence.
It’s worth mentioning that Harnack and Zander had very different approaches to training their troops. Harnack favored physical punishment, vulgar language, and a strict disciplinary code to establish his authority.
Zander, by contrast, was more easygoing in demeanor, but no less demanding when it came to his subordinates. He deeply valued the opportunity Augustus had given him and recognized this as a turning point in his own destiny.
Augustus’s desk was piled high with documents and planning drafts — all just handed over by his father, Angus.
At the very top was a project titled 'Instigating Uprisings in Antiga, Chau Sara, Mar Sara, and Other Territories', followed by another labeled 'Proposal for Forming a Pan-Terran Alliance Across Multiple Planets'.
Below that were files such as 'Founding Independent Korhal Publications and Media', 'Infiltrating Tarsonis's Old Families', and 'Controlling Federal Congress Members through Bribery and Coercion', among other strategic plans.
The first plan Augustus intended to implement was to seize control of Korhal by force—and then hold it at all costs. He would use every possible method to delay or prevent the Terran Federation from glassing Korhal in 2491. As a contingency plan for the worst-case scenario, Augustus had also drafted an alternative: gradually evacuating Korhal’s civilian population to Umoja and other fringe territories.
Of course, all of this depended on whether they could withstand the might of the Terran Federation’s fleet. From Augustus’s perspective, this was an almost hopeless revolution—one where the power disparity between the two sides was simply overwhelming.
He knew his father, Angus, still viewed the situation too optimistically. Angus was a sharp-minded politician and a staunch reformist—but he had never stepped foot on a battlefield. He had also grossly overestimated the moral limits of the Federal government.
Angus knew war was inevitable. But what he hadn’t foreseen was the Tarsonis Assembly proposing to completely obliterate Korhal IV with orbital nuclear bombardment once it slipped out of their control.
Korhal IV was still a crown jewel among the thirteen core worlds of the Terran Federation. Despite the Federation’s weakening grip on the planet, its officials and senators continued to extract enormous wealth from it.
However, after the Guild Wars, the Terran Federation was poised to claim nearly all of the Kel-Morian Combine’s colonies and mining guilds. As a result, Korhal’s tax revenue no longer held the same weight it once did.
And compared to the brutal war that would follow independence, clearing out the Federation's forces already stationed on Korhal would be the easy part. Their numbers were limited.
In the early days of the Federation’s formation, the Tarsonis government had imposed restrictions on how many troops could be deployed to each Confederate world. Although the Assembly had since pushed to repeal those restrictions, the drawn-out conflict with the Kel-Morian Combine forced them to divert the bulk of their troops and resources elsewhere.
Angus himself had repeatedly used lobbying and public addresses to defeat proposals by Korhal IV’s own senator that called for increased garrison troops from Tarsonis, under the guise of protecting 'the people’s property'.
As a leader of one of the Old Families, Angus scorned the very aristocratic system that had granted him power and wealth. He firmly sided with the people. He dreamed of founding a democratic republic—a goal that made the nobles foam at the mouth.
Naturally, his vision ran counter to the interests of the powerholders on Korhal IV, who had long relied on the Federal system to maintain their status. They despised Angus and feared that he would strip them of their power, wealth, and prestige.
On paper, the Terran Federation had only two army corps stationed on Korhal IV—roughly 80,000 troops in total—scattered across military bases and outposts. Most of them were still equipped with outdated CMC-200 powered armor and Type-E gauss rifles. The majority were inexperienced recruits, and a sizable portion were aging veterans nearing retirement who had never actually seen combat.
For a core world like Korhal IV—so far removed from the Kel-Morian homeworld of Moria—the garrison’s only real duties were suppressing unrest and putting down small-scale rebel uprisings. Compared to frontline units that had to fight and bleed every day during the savage Guild Wars, serving on a peaceful world like Korhal was practically a vacation.
It was common practice for officers to accept bribes or lavish gifts in exchange for offering protection to wealthy merchants and nobles. Some had been stationed on Korhal for over a decade, regularly attending aristocratic balls and high-society functions as if they were born to it.
But the moment Angus declared Korhal’s independence, Augustus’s army would move in and take the planet.
...
On Christmas Eve, the city of Styrling gleamed like a radiant jewel in the dark of night. Devout Christians flocked to churches named after the Holy Mother, the Holy Son, or the Apostles to attend mass. When the bells rang, the people of Styrling gathered around crackling hearths and holographically projected Christmas trees to open their presents.
In the Mengsk family’s mountain estate near the northern range, lights blazed brightly. Servants wearing Santa hats celebrated the holiday alongside their employers. Every fraction of a second, laser scanners swept over the courtyards and residence, while Umojan AI drones patrolled the skies like silent owls.
Inside the training hall, racks of practice swords and sharpened iron blades lined the walls. One of the warning maxims passed down from Augustus’s grandfather—also named Augustus—was carved there. It was a line the younger Augustus had been made to memorize over and over as a child: A just man should fight for the oppressed; a true king must protect his loyal people.
Dressed in a white training robe, Augustus was practicing swordsmanship with his instructor. Each held a wooden cruciform longsword with a guard—once the standard saber for Korhalian lancers during the colonial era.
After saluting, Augustus spun his wooden blade, planted his feet wide apart, and stood solidly on the wooden floor like a mountain. His instructor mirrored his stance.
“Do you still remember what I once taught you?” asked the instructor—a middle-aged man with East Asian features and deep black eyes.
“Augustus Mengsk, the eighth month of the year is named after him. He was upright and brave, never vain, and walked the path of greatness and glory from birth,” Augustus replied, eyes fixed on the instructor’s face and sword hand.
“Do you still remember the words he left you?” the instructor pressed.
“To defend noble ideals, or to fight for the oppressed. A noble man must always stand firm before tyrants who rule over the weak. Those who abuse their power shall face divine retribution, and upright men will never sit idly by and allow such evil to exist,” Augustus answered.
“Your character has proven that you will be the true master of Korhal,” the instructor said. “You and your father are both true Mengsks.”
“What about Arcturus?” Augustus asked.
“No. He is not that kind of man,” the instructor replied.
Augustus tensed, poised to strike with his polished blade. But in an instant, his instructor twisted his own sword and slashed diagonally at an awkward angle. Augustus parried smoothly with a deft turn. The two white-clad figures exchanged slashes, parries, spins, and thrusts in rapid succession.
“Your reflexes, speed, and strength are far from what they used to be. You were supposed to be the Lion of Korhal—or the Wolf of Styrling—but now, you're weaker than a sixty-year-old man,” the instructor said, driving Augustus back several steps with a heavy strike.
“Even in the military camp, you shouldn’t slack off in your self-discipline.”
“I’ve grown too complacent,” Augustus gasped. His graying hair, damp with sweat, clung limply to his forehead. “I’ve grown weak from neglecting my training.”
“Then double your efforts—until you can once again defeat me with ease.”
In the aging man’s memory, Augustus had begun training in swordsmanship, politics, and philosophy under him at the age of six.
Back then, Augustus’s body had been nowhere near as strong as his older brother’s. But he was relentless in his dedication, and his talent in academics was astonishing. In every domain, Augustus had excelled—but he was also arrogant and prideful, which led him into an early rebellious phase.
Still, though the instructor was puzzled by Augustus’s decline in swordsmanship, there was no doubt that the once ostentatious youth had shed his vanity and become measured, with his brilliance now hidden rather than flaunted.
In silence, Augustus swung his practice blade, slowly rediscovering his old rhythm. In his memories, by the age of sixteen he had already been capable of striking his instructor’s vital points with a single blow or disarming him through sheer force. He could wield over a dozen types of cold and hot weapons proficiently, and could subdue a prepared adult man barehanded in mere seconds.
