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SCL Chapter 16: Falling from the Sky
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 03:31:36 +0000 UTCAugustus flipped through some reports about Turaxis II. Even by paying attention to the dates and the reported strength of both sides, he could tell that the intensity of the battle was steadily escalating.
The arrival of the 33rd Ground Assault Division and other planetary forces confirmed that the balance of power between the Terran Federation and the Kel-Morian on Turaxis was about to be shattered. The Federation was still continuously deploying large numbers of troops to the planet. It was clear that the Federation's Marine Corps command was planning a decisive battle that would determine the fate of the entire planet.
None of this would be shared with them by the officers at the recruits' training camp. The sergeants would only say that although the Kel-Morians were vicious and cunning, the Marine Corps was more than capable of dealing with them. "Sweat more during training, and there’ll be less blood on the battlefield."
The upcoming war on Turaxis II was both a danger and an opportunity for Augustus. Whether in the game or the real-life interstellar war, the lives of active-duty Marines were the least valuable. However, if Augustus could be promoted, becoming a senior sergeant or a commander, it would greatly benefit his future life.
Rather than praying like a coward every day that a shell wouldn't land on him and leaving his life to fate, Augustus preferred to start from scratch, accumulating prestige and military achievements.
If fortune favored him, Augustus might even earn a few medals during the battle and become a sergeant before the war ended. If everything went smoothly, he would go through the demobilization process and return to Korhal to inherit his family’s estate. He would persuade his father to give up the idea of rebelling against the Terran Federation and live peacefully as a noble.
Augustus lacked the innate ambition and desire for control that the Mengsk family seemed to possess. After all, revolution and salvation had always been irrelevant to him. He had long passed the age of dreaming of becoming the savior of the world.
At first, the transport ship flew relatively smoothly, but halfway through, everyone felt the violent turbulence in the air. Augustus had to put down his personal terminal and grab the armrest tightly. Then, Lieutenant Warfield came over the intercom to inform them that at least two Kel-Morian Hellhound squads were chasing them, but not to worry.
"Kel-Morian Hellfire squadrons rarely dare to venture deep into our controlled areas, but there’s always an exception," the lieutenant said.
Most of the recruits fell into panic as the transport ship began to tilt and spin, constantly shifting to avoid missile locks. All the recruits could do was pray that the Kel-Morian Hellhounds wouldn’t catch their prey, although they all knew it was just a matter of time.
For a while, the transport ship continued to perform a series of difficult evasive maneuvers. Augustus felt dizzy, with his head and feet completely reversed. It was far more intense than the suspended rollercoaster at Styrling Amusement Park.
"We’re done for…" Tomer cradled his face and muttered, "Mom, forgive me, mom…"
"Oh, the pilot’s flying skills are terrible." Although Jim had never flown a spaceship, it didn’t stop him from being sarcastic.
At this moment, Hank was cheering and yelling, Josephine was screaming and shouting, Ward remained expressionless, Zander's face was pale, and Benjamin was praying nonstop. Another even more intense jolt made Augustus' seat shake violently.
If they hadn't been strapped into their seats by seatbelts, they would have already been thrown against the walls of the cabin, bloody and bruised. The warning light overhead shifted from a soft blue to a blinking red.
"We've been hit." Lieutenant Warfield's voice was louder now, but still calm.
The transport ship flipped over, and the recruits saw the spinning ceiling. Augustus felt himself falling.
...
The tail of the APOD four-engine near-Earth transport craft trailed black smoke, and despite the pilot's best efforts to control the balance of the ship, it still plummeted towards the ground several thousand feet below, like a rag falling from the sky. Gravity was dragging it closer to death.
"We're about to land. Everyone, hold on tight," Warfield's voice crackled through the speaker.
At the last moment, the transport regained its balance. After gliding smoothly for several seconds, the passengers experienced the first impact. The belly of the ship hit the ground first. Augustus felt as if he had slammed head-on into a hard slab of granite, his organs crushing together in his chest.
For a brief moment, the fear of death overtook Augustus.
The transport skidded along the ground, bouncing high into the air every time it hit a hard bump, only to come crashing down again. Augustus couldn't speak, not even scream—he felt as if his bones were shattering.
Minutes, maybe longer, passed before the transport finally came to a halt. Luckily, they hadn’t crashed into a ridge or any other obstacle that could have meant certain death for everyone.
The alarm blared incessantly, and warning lights flashed a dangerous red. Dizzy and disoriented, Augustus saw a pair of hands reaching toward him.
“We need to get out of here, now.” That was Jim’s voice. “This ship’s a sitting duck on the ground. Damn it, where are our aircraft? Are they all idiots?”
Augustus quickly regained his bearings. He unbuckled his seatbelt and, using Jim’s shoulder for support, stood up. The situation was grim—the floor of the cabin was covered in fresh blood. Augustus looked around; some people had struggled to their feet, but more were still slumped in their seats.
“Wake them up,” Augustus said loudly.
“There are Kel-Morians above our heads. One heat-seeking missile, and we're all meeting God.” He saw Hank and Zander had already gotten up. “Hank, take a few people and open the cargo bay to retrieve the weapons. Max, you and the others, wake everyone else up.”
“Open the hatch and get everyone still alive outside. Now! Anyone who doesn’t want to die, move!”
“Omer, go to the comms room and get the radio terminal.”
With all of them being green recruits, the officers from the training camp had stayed behind at the Turaxis main base. Everyone was panicking, not knowing what to do. After all, the training camp instructors had never prepared them for a situation like this.
At this moment, Augustus was the only one taking charge. Even though most of the other squads weren’t familiar with him, there was no time for doubts when their lives were on the line.
“Jim, Benjamin, come with me to find Warfield.” With that, Augustus pushed through the crowd toward the cockpit. Warfield hadn’t said a word since the crash, which made Augustus suspect that the man might have met an unfortunate fate.
Neither of them spoke as they followed Augustus. The cockpit door, which had once been securely locked, was now bent and damaged from the crash. At Augustus’s signal, Benjamin began ramming his shoulder into the door, which was severely deformed. After a few tense moments, the door gave way.
The moment Augustus stepped into the cockpit, his foot landed in a pool of blood, sending a cold chill through his body. The cockpit windows were covered in spiderweb-like cracks, and Warfield's deputy had been pierced by several shards of glass. He was no longer breathing.
The deputy, a young man not much older than Augustus, had neatly styled brown curly hair that still looked messy, and bright, deep brown eyes. His insignia showed he was a staff sergeant. Before he stopped breathing, the staff officer had kept his lips tightly sealed, his eyes fixed on the distance.
“He’s gone,” Jim said, his face pale. It was the first time they’d seen such a bloody scene.
“The lieutenant’s still alive!” Benjamin noticed Warfield was still breathing. There was a gash on his forehead, blood trickling down, but he hadn’t yet regained consciousness.
“Carry him out.” Augustus said to Benjamin as he removed the electromagnetic pistol from the dead officer’s waist. He didn’t have time to close the deceased’s eyes in respect, nor would he risk wasting time collecting the body—Kel-Morian’s aircraft were certainly circling above them now.
"Move quickly!" Jim helped Benjamin lift Warfield onto his shoulders at that moment.
As they returned to the troop's transport cabin, only Hank and Lundstein remained. Each was carrying two C-14 electromagnetic rifles on their backs and holding an SR-8 shotgun in their hands.
When Augustus emerged, Hank handed him an electromagnetic rifle and said, "Two unlucky guys in Squad Three broke their legs, and another has a huge hole in his stomach. No idea what happened."
"What's the situation exactly?" Augustus took the rifle and rushed toward the open hatch, asking while running. But this was clearly a blind spot in Hank's knowledge, and he fumbled, unable to speak.
"He has a penetrating wound; he was hit by shrapnel from the engine explosion. We used a makeshift stretcher to carry him out," Lundstein answered in place of Hank, speaking clearly and calmly. "There are several M-1 medical kits in the cargo hold. I tried using a nano-coagulant to stop the bleeding, but it wasn't very effective—the wound is too large. If we can't get him to a field hospital or an air ambulance, he's going to die."
