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SCL Chapter 73: After the Ceasefire
🕑 Added 2025-05-15 04:48:12 +0000 UTCAs the twelfth month of the year 2488 approached, tensions flared once more on Meinhoff. Both the Terran Federation forces stationed on the planet and the secretly armed Kel-Morian natives were gearing up for renewed conflict. Though not particularly beautiful or enchanting, this dark blue planet was now suffused with the oppressive atmosphere of an impending war.
However, officers like Augustus—who had been assigned to take over surface-level factories—had already received word from the Marine Corps High Command to relay down through the front lines: the war was over. And it would not resume.
By the time the first ceasefire agreement expired, more and more Kel-Morian factories, mines, and even starports on Meinhoff had been taken over by Terran Federation forces. Only about 8% of the planet’s light industry remained outside the occupation’s control. The Marine Corps High Command had set up its command center in Meinhoff’s largest city.
Everyone knew the Kel-Morian Combine had been defeated—it simply hadn’t formally surrendered. On some of the Combine’s more militant worlds, orders from Moria to enact an indefinite ceasefire were outright ignored, and so localized fighting continued.
Augustus understood that the war would inevitably drag on into 2489—and possibly even a few months beyond that. The governments of the Kel-Morian Combine and the Terran Federation would spend a significant amount of time arguing over the eventual 'peace agreement', haggling over every tiny interest at the negotiating table.
At that table, the two sides did not stand as equals. There was no question that the peace agreement would be a harsh, unequal treaty for the vanquished Kel-Morian Combine—one that reeked of the Federation’s overbearing arrogance and disdain.
The Combine might even be forced to cede most of its mining guilds and colonies within the Koprulu Sector just to avoid being fully annexed.
Yet for Augustus and his Heaven's Devils, this was undeniably good news. Once the war ended, they could either remain in service or retire and return home—both options were now back on the table.
And so, on a brilliantly sunny day—December 20—Augustus and his troops gathered in the workers’ cafeteria at the New Apollon Mining District Factory for a celebratory meal. It was the best location they could find for a gathering, given that the local food industry was severely underdeveloped. Mid- to high-end restaurants were only available in the cities.
Spread across five alloy tables pushed together, the food wasn’t exactly luxurious, but it was decent. Over forty soldiers in brown uniforms were happily devouring their meals, chatting animatedly about their hopes for the future.
Though Meinhoff was a world sorely lacking in supplies, Augustus had still spent a small fortune acquiring quality ingredients. He had asked the factory’s cooks to prepare something more palatable than MREs or the usual boiled potatoes and stew. After more than a month, the Heaven's Devils once again got to enjoy cheeseburgers, grilled sausages, charbroiled steaks, and creamy bacon pasta—along with the expensive treat of Masala black tea.
“To be honest, this holiday doesn’t mean much to me,” said Harnack, speaking while shoveling food into his mouth. “Shiloh is just too boring. I joined the army looking for some excitement. Sigh… Sad to say, but I bet my relatives in town probably think I’m already dead.”
“Then why even request it?” snapped Raynor, clearly annoyed that he couldn’t go home for Christmas.
In just a few more days, the first batch of soldiers rotating out would be able to return home for the holidays—re-socialized troops would take their place. But some unlucky ones had to remain at their posts, and Raynor was one of them.
Roughly a third of the Heaven’s Devils had been granted a one-week leave. The rest would have to wait until after Christmas. Augustus’s application had been approved—he would be boarding a transport at Meinhoff’s interstellar launch port two days later, headed back to Korhal IV.
This banquet for the Heaven's Devils also included their powered armor technician, Feek, as an invited guest.
Though the short-statured mechanic bore no tattoo of the hooded skull, he had undoubtedly earned the recognition of the rest of the Heaven's Devils.
“Didn’t cost anything to apply, right? No training drills, just sleeping in the barracks—what’s not to like?” Harnack said as he stuffed food into his mouth. “Besides, I’ve lived alone since I was a kid. Christmas to me just meant picking up a few fun little knickknacks. Santa Claus never once paid a visit to my hole-ridden socks—and I even had a chimney built without a fireplace just for that.”
“That’s ‘cause your socks stink,” said Amy Brandon, chiming in.
“In that case, Harnack, come back to Korhal with me,” Augustus said after swallowing a mouthful of food. “I’ll show you what a real big city looks like.”
“Sweet!” Harnack nodded enthusiastically.
“Tychus, where are you headed for the holidays?” Augustus asked the man seated across from him.
“Me? I wouldn’t leave these shiny little crystals on Meinhoff for even a minute—not a second,” Tychus declared. “Even during the holidays, I’m staying right at my post. I love the Marine Corps.”
“Jim, once I’m gone, make sure Kulovsky and his men keep a close eye on the front gate, and electrify the perimeter walls,” Augustus chuckled. “Don’t let Tychus sneak any women in—this is a military base!”
“And you’d better make proper arrangements for our new workers. That Kel-Morian guy, Rory Swann, is now an external contractor for the Heaven's Devils. Give him top-tier treatment.”
“No problem,” Raynor said with a smirk. “I guarantee—not even a fly will make it through the gate.”
“And how do you know young Jim here won’t get ‘corrupted’ by me, huh?” Tychus raised an eyebrow. “Kid’s at the perfect age to be dreaming about women. And you never let him come have fun with us. That’s just not right.”
“Even the strictest parent should know when to ease up,” he added.
“I never said he couldn’t have fun,” Augustus shook his head. “I just said not to ruin him. When Kid first got here, he didn’t even swear. Now? He’s cursing up a storm after hanging out with you lot.”
“At the strip club, you and Josephine were partying harder than anyone. Jim’s still young—I don’t want to see him fall into indulgence and hedonism. He was already showing signs of alcohol dependence when Omer died,” Augustus said, fixing his gaze on a flushed-faced Raynor.
“I trust Jim. He’s never let me down.”
“Well then, I’ll just go out and have some fun myself,” Tychus relented, his mind already wandering to the curves of beautiful women. “I wonder what Kel-Morian girls are like...”
But as he imagined a short, stocky miner woman with a full beard, he grimaced with disgust, like he’d just swallowed a dead fly.
Augustus and the others continued chatting for a while. Aside from those who would remain on Meinhoff or return home, both Ward and Zander had agreed to go back with him. Ward simply didn’t want to return to a place full of painful memories, while Zander had grown up in the slums and had no home to return to.
As for Lundstein, he was also heading to Korhal for the holidays to reunite with his family, though his departure would be a day later than Augustus’s. Josephine, on the other hand, never even mentioned going home—as if the moment he returned to Korhal, a gang would be waiting to string him up and hang him.
After all the chatter, Lisa—seemingly forgotten by Augustus—finally spoke up.
“Augustus, aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing over the holiday?”
“I remember you’re from Tarsonis. Don’t you want to go back and visit your father?” Augustus turned to look at Lisa, seated beside him. She had recently overcome her addiction, and her once dull hair now shone with a bright ginger luster, carrying a light fragrance.
“What’s there to see? He’s just some old geezer,” Lisa said, crossing her arms. “I’m actually planning a trip to Korhal.”
“Just… just thought I’d drop by to visit my mother along the way.”
“Well, fair enough,” Augustus said, spreading his hands.
“Poor old Anthony Cassidy,” he muttered with a sigh.
...
Korhal IV, Styrling Skyport, Christmas Eve.
After three days of hyperspace travel, the galaxy jumper carrying Augustus, Lisa, and the others finally landed at a skyport outside the capital city of Styrling on Korhal IV. Without exception, every newcomer stepping off the ship for the first time was left in awe.
The terminal of Styrling Skyport was an imposing structure—an architectural marvel made of stainless steel frames and massive color-shifting glass cubes, with sleek black aluminum railings and walls of polished travertine marble.
Upon entering, passengers were greeted by expansive glass curtain walls offering a clear view of Korhal IV’s gentle sun and the lush greenery planted between stairwells and corridors. Hovering smart robots and turbine drones constantly cleaned the mirror-like floors and windows. Every Korhal native dressed impeccably and spoke with cultured grace.
To avoid drawing attention, Augustus wore a dark brown square-collared long-sleeved jacket, neatly pressed trousers, and blue-and-black striped sneakers—looking every bit the image of a young student. Lisa wore a light yellow pleated skirt that reached her knees, a simple black cotton T-shirt, and a leather crossbody bag that was actually a disguised medical kit.
Connor Ward, tall and dark-skinned, wore a black leather vest over his bare arms and ragged jeans. His nose, slightly crooked from an old battle injury, sat beneath a pair of half-lidded pale blue eyes that always gave off a menacing air. A tattoo of the Heaven’s Devils skull insignia adorned his exposed biceps.
If Ward looked like an imposing bodyguard standing next to Augustus, then Harnack and Zander—dressed in nothing but leather jackets and loose casual pants—resembled a pair of groundhogs that had just crawled out of their burrows, letting out one amazed “Whoa—” after another.
Augustus didn’t have to wait long in the terminal. Soon, a group of men in security and steward uniforms approached, surrounding a burly figure. Embroidered in gold thread on the left chest of each jacket was a golden wolf’s head—the exclusive emblem of House Mengsk.
At the head of the group was Achton Feld, the head of House Mengsk’s security forces and one of Angus’s most trusted men. He had served the family for many years and had practically watched Augustus and his sister grow up.
