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SCL Chapter 77: Echoes of Revolution
🕑 Added 2025-05-20 03:28:04 +0000 UTCKatherine flipped through Valerian's photos for a while; the joy in her expression gradually faded. By the time the guests began dining, her expression had turned serious and composed—she sat upright with the commanding presence of a great matriarch.
“Tell me what happened, Augustus. Just repeat exactly what Pasteur told you. Don’t try to cover for your brother.”
Shaking his head, Augustus recounted everything truthfully to his mother and urged her to forgive his brother.
“Hmph.” Katherine’s anger hadn’t completely subsided, but she knew this wasn’t entirely Arcturus’s fault. After all, he hadn’t known either. He never imagined that a single night of pleasure on Tyrador IX with Juliana would result in a child.
“Arcturus still doesn’t know?”
“I haven’t been able to reach him,” Augustus said. He wanted to speak in his brother’s defense but, after a moment, decided not to bother.
“His current expedition team is likely thousands of light-years away. They’re using communication equipment from decades ago, badly outdated. It could take one to two months for any message to reach him.”
“He shouldn’t have done that,” Katherine sighed. She said no more—just gently stroked the photo of Valerian.
Over the years, Ailin Pasteur had always stood beside the Mengsk family, both as a friend and a comrade. Katherine felt that they owed the Pasteur family a great deal.
“This poor child. From birth until now, he’s never met his father. He is a child of the Mengsk family—we have a duty to raise and educate him,” she said. “He’s never even met his grandmother or grandfather. I truly wish I could see him… but Korhal is far too dangerous right now.”
“Valerian is currently on Umoja, at the Pasteur estate far from the city,” Augustus said immediately. “Ailin can arrange a discreet interstellar journey for you and Dorothy—one completely off the radar. He’ll make sure you arrive on Umoja without anyone knowing.”
“To counter the threat from the Terran Confederacy, the Umojan Home Defense Force has already been established. They’re constructing orbital platforms in synchronous orbit above their homeworld to fend off the Confederacy’s fleet. All trade now takes place through low-gravity ports on their moon, and any unauthorized Confederate ships entering the atmosphere will be shot down by anti-air batteries. Meanwhile, I’ll arrange for your body doubles to divert the Confederacy’s attention.”
“It’s safe there.”
“You’re too hasty,” Katherine replied. “I know you want to send us somewhere safer. And yes, I do want to see little Valerian—but after so many years, I’ve learned how to be patient and wait.”
She looked into her son’s cold gray eyes. “Korhal is indeed in chaos. Staunch Confederacy loyalists, Kel-Morian sympathizers, Korhal separatists, revolutionaries, the Confederacy’s secret police and agents…”
“Yes,” she continued, “the most direct and effective method is to stay far from the heart of the revolution. We should send Dorothy to the Pasteur family. But your father still needs me—I must remain by his side.”
“Angus is already standing alone. The senators in the Korhal Assembly and the nobles of Styrling are constantly trying to bring him down.”
“On Korhal, the only support he has is from the people. But the people… are too far away.”
Before Dorothy could speak, Augustus cut in again. “The situation is far worse than you imagine. I’ve received reliable intelligence—the Confederacy is training a group of powerful psionics. Silent assassins who can strike without a trace. Among humanity, they are the coldest and most efficient killers.”
“Assassination is the Confederacy’s preferred tactic. And Father… is worthy of their deadliest agent.”
“Even with a hundred or a thousand defensive measures, we still wouldn’t be foolproof. Please understand this, Mother: only when I know for certain that nothing can happen to you and Dorothy will Father and I be able to devote ourselves fully to the revolutionary cause.”
“They’re actually turning psionics into super soldiers?” Katherine, who was privy to certain secrets, was all the more shocked upon hearing this.
“They’ve been doing it for at least a decade, maybe even longer,” Augustus replied, his gaze firm.
“Do you understand how serious this is? Psionics possess supernatural abilities. We don’t even know if they still qualify as human—or if they’ve already evolved into some higher form. Who knows what they really are? It wouldn’t even be surprising if they could phase through walls like specters.”
“But what about you and your father?” Katherine was moved by Augustus’s words. She realized that she and her daughter would only become a burden.
“We’ll be fine. I’m working on securing support from Umoja—better anti-stealth equipment, and more elite soldiers from the Umojan Home Defense Force,” Augustus said, finally exhaling in relief.
“I also believe that Umoja is training its own psionic agents. It must be a top-level secret. If Ailin hasn’t lied to me, then even he, as an elected member of parliament, doesn’t know about it. But he promised to bring the matter before the parliament, to push for the deployment of Umojan psionics to Korhal. Only with their protection can we have true security.”
Augustus remembered that Umoja had its own elite covert operatives known as Shadow Guards. Perhaps they couldn’t match Sarah Kerrigan, the most powerful Ghost operative in history, but they were still far better than relying on ordinary people to fight off psionics.
“Alright. Dorothy and I will leave Korhal,” Katherine agreed.
“Augustus, once the banquet ends, go see your father. Angus is in the Mengsk Sky Tower in Styrling. He needs to know about all this.”
...
Styrling City shimmered like flowing mercury, with tens of thousands of glass panes glittering under the sunlight. The silver-and-black Mengsk Sky Tower soared in the city’s center, surrounded by skyscrapers that looked like stone spires forged from steel and glass.
From the luxurious private airship of the Mengsk family, the streets below sprawled like a chessboard, interspersed with verdant patches of green. Streams of traffic resembled black lines threading through the cityscape, while commercial spacecraft left gleaming trails as they weaved between buildings and clouds.
Augustus sat in his private seat, gazing through a circular window at the cityscape of Styrling, the towering buildings still imposing even from this high altitude. Despite the Terran Confederacy’s relentless efforts to exploit the people here and plunder the wealth of this beautiful planet, Korhal IV remained as prosperous as ever, its brilliance undimmed by the Confederacy War.
This was precisely why Korhal IV was hailed as the jewel of the Terran Confederacy.
And yet, the Confederate red-and-blue star banners still fluttering in Styrling, along with the military base nestled against the northern mountains, served as a stark reminder to Augustus that the true rulers of this planet were still the Confederate government.
The senators who stood atop Korhal IV’s pinnacles of power and prestige, along with the consortiums backing them, all answered to the same masters—the Confederate Congress on distant Tarsonis, and the mighty Old Families that ruled the world.
As the airship passed through the hemisphere-shaped energy shield draped like a curtain over the top of the Mengsk Sky Tower and descended onto a runway lined with greenery, over a dozen security personnel in black uniforms—each wearing matching flat-topped hats and goggles—immediately rushed toward the craft. With the exception of Augustus and Security Chief Achton, all accompanying personnel had to undergo the strictest inspections.
“This energy shield was recently installed,” Achton said, pointing to the pale-blue field that looked as thin as gauze from the tarmac. “It’s a new technology from LarsTech. It can repel most energy and ballistic weapons, block scanners and satellite cameras, and even withstand high-altitude winds up to 900 meters.”
“A solid design. I want its full specs—defense rating, load tolerance, and any available upgrade options.” Augustus nodded toward the bowing security personnel and stepped into the lift at the edge of the landing pad.
“If it doesn’t meet my standards, I think we should start looking for a new supplier.”
“You’re still not satisfied? That shield cost us a fortune,” Achton followed closely behind. Though older than Angus, his body remained as robust as a bull’s.
“My dear Feld,” Augustus said with a half-joking tone, “if the Terran Confederacy fleet wields broadswords, and we’re banking on eggshells to block them, it won’t be long before no one’s around to pay your salary.”
“Let’s shelve that discussion. I just got back from Meinhoff and will be returning to the military in a few days. Go on, tell me—what kind of upheaval has Korhal gone through in the half-year I’ve been away?”
“Plenty,” Achton replied as the elevator began to descend slowly. “Your father delivered forty-six speeches across Korhal in support of the independence movement over the past six months. Thirty-three of those speeches drew crowds of over 50,000.”
“In October, in the southern Confederacy city of Balik, workers took to the streets in response to Angus’s call, demanding answers from the Confederate government about the ever-lengthening work hours and rampant corruption. The local authorities deployed the entire police force, using tear gas and batons to disperse the crowds.”
“The result was a disaster. When someone gave the order to open fire, the poorly trained officers didn’t even get the chance to empty their magazines before tens of thousands of enraged citizens overwhelmed them.”
“The protesters seized the police station, city hall, and the UNN broadcast building. They tore down the Confederate flag and raised Korhal’s blue flag with three stars. In that riot, which had spiraled completely out of control, thousands of demonstrators and police were injured, and hundreds died from trampling and gunfire.”
“So, someone’s about to be in serious trouble,” Augustus remarked, speculating on the Confederate government’s response. He had seen a brief report on the incident in the UNN evening news, but it had been brushed over with only a few vague lines—clearly, the Confederate government was working hard to downplay the event’s impact.
“The newly appointed Governor of Korhal dismissed a few officials only marginally related to the incident, then declared it was all the result of Angus Mengsk’s incitement,” Achton said as the elevator stopped at an upper floor.
“Well, he’s not exactly wrong,” Augustus replied indifferently with a shrug, stepping through the open elevator doors and into a corridor lined on both sides with security personnel.
“Just last month, an outpost in northern Styrling was attacked by terrorists. Over a hundred Confederate soldiers were killed in the assault,” Achton continued as they walked.
“I can guess who did it without even trying,” Augustus muttered, glancing at the corridor’s smooth walls and the surveillance cameras at the corners—though they didn’t give him much of a sense of security.
“I’ll bet you pulled it off clean, without leaving a single trace.”
“Confederate officials are tearing their hair out, because all the evidence points to an accident—an explosion caused by a high-energy gas pipeline leak,” said Achton.
“But that’s not exactly brilliant,” Augustus remarked, stopping before a door guarded by two armed security officers. After a retinal scan, the door opened, revealing a spacious office.
Inside, a gray-haired yet still upright man stood with his back to Augustus, facing a massive glass wall. Angus Mengsk, dressed in a black square-collared coat and loose-fitting trousers, was gazing at the UNN building across from the Mengsk Sky Tower.
The sight struck Augustus with a sense of déjà vu.
