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SCL Chapter 70: From Battlefield to Boardroom
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 21:24:29 +0000 UTCAugustus speculated that several technological advancements—such as the full deployment of the CMC-250 and CMC-300 powered suits, mass production and activation of the Wraith fighters, the new wave of upgrades to the Arclite main battle tanks, and the deployment of entire Resocialization brigades willing to die without hesitation—were all major factors in the Kel-Morian defeat.
The main reason lay in the sheer difference in scale. The Terran Federation had far more colonies and a much larger population than the Kel-Morian Combine. Whether economically or militarily, the Federation held the advantage. If not for the fact that, at the start of the war, the old noble officer class—who had never experienced real combat—had been caught completely off guard by the Kel-Morian's bold and decisive offensives, and if not for the Kel-Morian troops’ widespread bravery and skill in battle, the Guild Wars should never have dragged on for this long.
By the time another company from the 33rd Ground Assault Division arrived, Augustus joined them in heading toward a Kel-Morian industrial park that Fleet Command had designated as a capture objective.
They climbed a ridge just beyond the rally point and jogged south for roughly 1.6 kilometres. There, rising along the terrain, came into view a massive complex of industrial buildings and towering furnaces.
Unlike residential dwellings, Kel-Morian factories were typically austere geometric structures—rectangular industrial plants built from cold, gray steel plates and cylindrical cooling towers. The buildings stacked along the hillside at varying heights, forming layered tiers. Along the outer perimeter wall ran electrified barbed wire.
Large chunks of crystals excavated from nearby mines were transported to the industrial zone via rail lines. Once processed and cut, the Ardeon crystals were loaded onto trucks bound for Meinhoff’s surface launch ports.
Before these three units launched their assault, Federation bomber squadrons had already taken out what few bunkers and defensive installations the industrial complex contained. According to intelligence, there were no Kel-Morian garrison forces present, and the workers had likely been evacuated in advance. As such, Augustus and the others merely needed to secure an unguarded factory zone.
It sounded simple enough, but based on past experience, all commanders at the platoon level or above believed they would inevitably encounter resistance. After consulting with a few other lieutenants, Augustus decided to abandon the original plan. Instead of attacking through the main entrance, they would blast through the perimeter wall and launch simultaneous assaults from two alternate directions.
Heaven’s Devils began their attack from the south. After Zander brought down a section of the wall with explosives, Squad One, acting as the vanguard, moved in first. But as it turned out, the intel had been surprisingly accurate—there were no defenders at all, not even a shadow of anyone.
Before deployment, they had been told that the Kel-Morians would fight to the death if their homeland was invaded. It wasn’t uncommon for entire families of men to perish in battle. But now, the entire industrial park had been handed over without a fight.
“These crystal-digging groundhogs finally learned how to be afraid?” Josephine remarked with contempt, standing next to a centrifuge facility.
“I’m afraid… it’s more complicated than you think,” Raynor said, pointing to the wall behind him.
Josephine turned and saw a holographic display screen on the wall, looping a video clip. The footage had no sound, only a continuously scrolling caption:
After negotiations between the Moria Workers' Union and the Independent Government, it has been unanimously decided to accept the Terran Federation's full ceasefire agreement, effective as of 08:00 on October 30. This marks the first ceasefire since the year 2485. The agreement will remain in effect for one standard Earth month. All…
“Shit, looks like I spoke too soon. We’ll be home by next month,” Raynor muttered with a shake of his head.
“The war’s over?” Tychus sounded disappointed—his dreams of war-profiteering had just taken a major hit.
“Chin up, Tychus,” Augustus said, gazing at the shimmering Ardeon crystals that had yet to be shipped out of the factory.
“We’re an occupying force now.”
...
The supervisory office of the New Apollon Mining Industrial Zone faced the mine, with several arched windows left open. The morning breeze drifted in, causing the tightly drawn curtains and the light yellow tassels of the bookmarks on the bookshelf to sway gently.
The tousled gray hair on Augustus’ forehead shifted lightly in the wind. The surface of the report drafts on the rosewood desk rustled softly. His coat and hat were neatly hung on a branch-shaped coat rack nearby.
The old-fashioned phonograph that Raynor and Harnack had picked up from the New Apollon community marketplace last week was still wheezing its way through a melody—one of those relaxed and melodious Tarsonis folk tunes. It skipped constantly, but Augustus figured it was a miracle the antique could produce any sound at all, given it probably dated back to the early colonial era.
Though, come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t as ancient as the locals claimed—after all, Raynor got it for the price of scrap metal.
Looking back now, the real miracle was that Raynor and Harnack had walked out of that Kel-Morian neighborhood unscathed. At the time, two Arclite tanks and a full squad of resocialized soldiers stood fully armed at the community entrance, and tensions were high. That the two of them had made it through a crowd of furious locals in one piece was nothing short of a feat.
Inside the office, Lisa—wearing a medic sergeant’s uniform—was busy cleaning out the collection left behind by the former Kel-Morian mining supervisor. It included luminous minerals of unknown use, portraits of women rendered in the Kel-Morian aesthetic, and a few gilded mining picks.
Once finished, she replaced them with an oil painting of Augustus’ mother and several cage-hilt swords that Augustus himself used for sword practice. He was currently studying swordsmanship and other ancient martial arts to improve his frankly terrible close-quarters combat ability. So far, his only decent move was what he jokingly called the 'Dead Fish Thrust'.
“What’s this?” Lisa asked, lifting a plain, unassuming safe from a crate.
“Wine from Peaceful Isle, Tarsonis—vintage ’14, if I remember right. Handle it with care,” Augustus replied, glancing up.
“Does it really need to be kept in a safe? It’s just a bottle of wine,” Lisa muttered as she gently set it down.
“You don’t understand how the Mengsk family feels about fine wine. It’s like the Kel-Morians digging through mud for pretty rocks—it’s a passion. And the safe? That’s tradition,” Augustus said. “Same as your fondness for pretty dresses.”
“There are things in this world besides crabs that can bring people joy—like happiness, fulfillment, and a sense of accomplishment.”
“Well, you’re always right,” Lisa said with a shake of her head. “It’s been nearly two months since I last touched any of it. I don’t think about it all day anymore. I’m trying to let something else become the center of my life now.”
“I’m truly happy for you,” Augustus said, setting down his pen once more and smiling. “It seems your detox has been working so far. I believe that one day, you won’t need me to supervise you anymore. That way, you’ll no longer be controlled by hallucinogens, no longer lost in a haze. Lisa, your life should belong to you.”
“No way. I’ll never be able to control myself. Like the doctors said—I’ve got weak willpower, beyond saving.” Out of his sight, Lisa’s lipstick-tinted lips curved downward. “Augustus…”
“…?” Augustus looked at her, waiting for her to continue.
“I still need someone to supervise me,” she said softly.
“…You really don’t have much faith in yourself,” Augustus paused, unsure what to say. “Worst-case scenario, after I leave the military, I could hire a few maids to keep an eye on you.”
Wait a minute—why did that sound like he was keeping a mistress?
“Of course, I’ve got other options,” Augustus said quickly, correcting himself. “Have you thought about what you’ll do after you retire?”
“The future, huh… I haven’t really made any plans.” Lisa pulled a framed photo from Augustus’ crate. It was of a young girl, around ten years old, with a silver ponytail. She looked unusually tall for her age.
“Is that your sister?” she asked.
"Looks like it," Augustus said uncertainly. "Alright, hand it over."
"And get me a cup of coffee, will you?"
Augustus still had plenty of work to do—calculating the mine’s revenue, tallying worker and transport costs.
Ever since the ceasefire agreement took effect, all Terran Federation offensive operations had been halted. Most of the landing troops had already returned to the warships stationed in synchronous orbit.
However, Augustus had personally volunteered to stay behind in New Apollon, promising that he would get the local factories back online as soon as possible and ensure a full shipment of Ardeon crystals reached the Meinhoff spaceport.
Normally, no one would have paid attention to the opinion of a mere second lieutenant—even one as well-known as Augustus, both within the officer circles of the 33rd Ground Assault Division and among the wider civilian population.
Colonel Warfield, Augustus' former commanding officer, hadn’t lent him any help in securing control over New Apollon’s factories. Warfield had always prided himself on fairness and impartiality. He could tolerate minor faults, but when it came to serious matters, he was strictly by the book.
In the end, it was an old subordinate of his brother Arcturus—still in the military for now—named Chuck, who stepped in and pushed the matter through.
Today marked the first official day the assignment had been approved. Augustus had successfully become the administrator of a large mining operation—before his brother, no less. If nothing unexpected happened, Arcturus, freshly discharged from the military, was probably off somewhere in the fringe sectors right now, driving a space engineering vehicle and digging up mineral samples on some desolate planet.
In addition to Heaven’s Devils, Augustus also had a resocialization company under his command, as well as four Arclite tanks that had remained on the surface—all of which were now under his direct control.
These forces were more than enough to maintain security. And the Kel-Morian main forces wouldn’t dare risk violating the ceasefire agreement just to attack a regular mining site.
The war had dragged on too long. Both sides needed time to recover.
Whether the conflict would resume later—or if a peace treaty would finally be signed—was up to the governments on both sides to decide.
Though the ceasefire was in place, minor skirmishes still broke out across Meinhoff. Many officers simply didn’t want to die on a rock-filled planet full of Kel-Morians right before the war ended. That, too, was one of the main reasons Augustus had been able to secure this appointment.
But now, the consequences of the military’s overreliance on resocialized soldiers were starting to show—namely, a growing shortage of officers capable of handling administrative duties with any flexibility or nuance.
At that moment, a commotion suddenly came from outside the window. Augustus smiled. He knew exactly what it was—his newly hired Kel-Morian miners had arrived.
In the Koprulu Sector, there were many paths to becoming rich. But owning a rare crystal mine was undoubtedly a golden ticket into the upper class—whether you sold the rights or hired people to extract it yourself.
