TitoVillar
patreon
SCL Chapter 12: Welcome to Braddock, Kid
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 03:29:58 +0000 UTC"They are amazing!" Hank made no effort to hide his desire for those scantily clad girls.
"This is not allowed under Shiloh’s law." Jim Raynor, still an innocent 18-year-old, was slightly overwhelmed. Life in the military camp had taught him how to curse and pick up some bad habits, but he was still not accustomed to such sights.
"Come on, Jim, you don't understand the beauty of women," said Kurt Josephine, a recruit from Korhal, throwing an arm around Raynor’s shoulder with a knowing smile.
As a nobleman from Styrling, Josephine was already a veteran of this kind of matter.
He had been with many women, which was precisely why he had joined the army after graduation—to avoid trouble.
Augustus still hadn’t figured out what kind of foolishness Josephine had committed that forced him to flee to this godforsaken place. Maybe things like getting the daughter of the chairman of Universal Enterprise pregnant wouldn’t make it into major newspapers and news websites, so he had no idea what had happened.
"Hehe~" Hank laughed as he and Josephine tried to drag Raynor’s fellow countryman, Omer, into the strip club. The latter resisted strongly, his face flushing red.
"Isn't this bad?" Raynor looked at Omer.
At that moment, the revolving neon lights at the entrance of the strip club projected dark red silhouettes of naked women onto the ground. The entire club’s decor carried strong sexual implications, creating a chaotic atmosphere.
"I heard that Kel-Morian spies often blend in here. Harnack, if you want to die in a girl’s bed, don’t drag Omer into it." Augustus called Hank by his last name, making the latter immediately understand that now was not the time for trouble.
"Okay, okay." Hank let go of Raynor, spread his hands, and said, "Boss, don’t tell me you just don’t like the older women here."
After that, Hank and Josephine embraced the girls standing on the street. Several recruits behind Augustus stretched their necks, eager to follow, but because Augustus didn’t seem to like the place, they finally suppressed their desires.
Augustus took note of the location and name of the establishment before moving on. His destination was the largest bar in the area.
"Just ignoring them?" Raynor followed with mixed feelings. He had to admit that his willpower might not be as strong as he had thought. Those beautiful girls had left a deep impression on him. Raynor was ashamed to admit that he had actually blushed.
"Josephine is sensible. As for Harnack... Well, I’m not sure. But perhaps only real scoundrels can thrive in a place full of filth and corruption," Augustus replied.
"Why didn’t you go?" Augustus asked Raynor.
"I'm only 18 years old. Oh my God, what would my mother think if she knew? I really don't want to disappoint her," Raynor said, embarrassed.
"Maybe one day, someone like you will become a legendary ‘saint of love’? Haha!" Augustus laughed. The recruits behind him, hearing what seemed like the biggest joke ever, burst into laughter.
"Go to hell!" Raynor cursed.
Thus, this group of recruits, dressed in maroon uniforms, flat caps, and polished leather boots, walked into a bar called Bloody Mary.
According to the hygiene and military regulations, their leather jackets and trousers with wide pockets were ironed straight with sonic irons, and there were two white trouser lines about a quarter of an inch wide on the trousers extending from top to bottom to the trouser legs.
The uniform and neat dress made these recruits look less like a mob.
...
Like other bars in Braddock, the Bloody Mary Bar was packed with Marine recruits. The floor of the bar was covered with solid softwood, full of burn and smoke marks, and some spots creaked when stepped on.
Mounted on the walls, which were covered in wood-grain wallpaper, were the heads and furs of massive beasts. Beside these trophies hung rusty melee weapons and wooden-handled revolvers.
Unlike the military bar, Bloody Mary’s radio was always playing fast-paced metal music, local rap, and long segments of meaningless noise, making the bar extremely loud—so much so that even people’s conversations could barely be heard.
The dazzling laser lights transformed the Bloody Mary into a world of color, while the smell of alcohol and smoke made people dizzy. The young recruits were easily carried away by the atmosphere, shouting, drinking and having fun.
The frenzy reached its peak when several girls appeared from the top of the bar, dancing on a stage made of iron frames and curtains.
As they moved seductively, they stripped off their already scant clothing. Augustus only now realized they were nearly naked. The girls threw their silk undergarments into the crowd below, immediately igniting a disgusting scramble—some men were even willing to fight to the death over those tiny scraps of fabric.
Augustus, Raynor, and the others found a long table for ten people, sat down, and began ordering drinks and food. Compared to the uninhibited women that had left Raynor and the others staring, red-faced and reluctant to look away, Augustus was far more interested in the menu.
The bar owner seemed to have a deep appreciation for the works of the ancient Earth playwright Shakespeare—at the end of each menu page was a Shakespearean poem.
The food selection was far broader than what was available in the military. In addition to fried foods, the menu offered dishes like beef pies, potato cakes, and vegetable salads. Some of the names were entirely unfamiliar, such as canned alien starfish, grilled Umojan beetle larvae, and iced Char volcano slugs.
Augustus noted that despite being on a distant world 60,000 light-years from Earth, nearly two centuries after the first colonial mothership landed on Tarsonis, humanity’s culture remained deeply tied to Earth’s civilization.
The colony mothership’s main computer had stored all the wisdom of human civilization—science, art, music, and other priceless aspects of human heritage were perfectly preserved. As a result, even in this era, people still understood 'ancient' literature. Many of Earth’s historical figures, myths, and religious texts continued to circulate throughout the Koprulu Sector.
This was why names of people, cities, and planets often had origins in Norse and Greek mythology.
Of course, this was mainly a convention among the upper class, those who fancied themselves aristocrats. In the outer colonies, where people struggled simply to survive, no one cared whether their home’s name held any historical significance.
Livestock commonly raised on Earth—cattle, sheep, chickens, and ducks—were also found in the Koprulu Sector. The colony motherships had carried frozen embryos and living specimens of tens of millions of Earth species, along with vast seed banks, ensuring that when they landed, settlers could farm and breed livestock in these unknown worlds.
Because of this, eating grilled steak and drinking beer brewed from barley was not at all unusual in the Koprulu Sector.
Augustus ordered fried chicken and beer. The scantily clad waitress gave him a lingering look, making frequent teasing gestures. The soldiers around him immediately started jeering.
"Interested in something else? We've got morphine, crabs, and rats. My god, baby, you’re so handsome," the waitress purred.
She had long, wavy pink hair and a rather impressive chest. As she leaned in, her face was almost touching his.
"We don’t need drugs, ma’am, and if you don’t mind, I’d suggest you stay away from them as well," Augustus said.
He noticed that her gaze was unfocused, her eyes glazed over—she was in a state of extreme excitement, clearly under the influence of something.
"What’s the matter, sir? Want to stay for tonight’s party? It’ll be a beautiful night."
"We could also use some pretty Bloody Mary girls," Augustus said, deciding to change the topic. He knew exactly how to fire up a bunch of lustful young soldiers. Sure enough, his squad mates immediately cheered, shifting their focus.
The waitress turned and walked away, deliberately swaying her hips. Around them, whistles rang out, and some men even reached out to grab her.
"How many people ended up here because of the war?" Raynor, sitting beside Augustus, suddenly asked in a low voice. In this noisy environment, his voice was like a grain of sand dropped into the ocean, swallowed instantly.
"She’s wearing heavy makeup—her real age is much younger. There are over 30 bars in Braddock, and there must be at least a thousand streetwalkers and strippers," Augustus replied. "The closest city was turned to ruins two years ago. A million people lost their homes and jobs. But the Federation and the Kel-Morian Combine had no plans to resettle them, so they had no choice but to flee wherever they could."
"You know, it’s a long way from hell to here, even if you take the maglev train."
"This is truly hell on earth," Raynor muttered grimly.
"But if you’ve been to Tarsonis, you’d see it’s more prosperous than ever," Augustus said, finishing a glass of No. 8 whiskey. His voice carried a hint of emotion.
"Those bastards," Raynor growled. He thought about his family’s farm, on the verge of bankruptcy due to the war. The thought of Shiloh becoming a war zone made his stomach churn.
While the frontier worlds were being ravaged by war, the nobles of Tarsonis were busy lining their pockets.
Before they could dwell on it further, a group of Federal soldiers stormed into the Bloody Mary Bar—forty or fifty of them.
Unlike Augustus and his Marines in maroon uniforms, these soldiers wore white high-collared uniforms with black, space-environment undersuits. The badge on the right side of their chest was a regular triangle with a golden eagle in the center.
"Space Fleet?" Lundstein glanced at them. His family business supplied fuel and replacement parts for the fleet, so he was very familiar with those badges.
"Ugh, I can’t stand Fleet soldiers," a grizzled Marine muttered.
The bar wasn’t just filled with recruits—there were engineers from the base and even veteran Marines drinking there.
As soon as they spotted the Fleet soldiers, murmurs of discontent spread through the room.
"Look at them. Weaklings—how the hell are they supposed to fight?"
The lively atmosphere had suddenly turned tense. The Marines and the Fleet had always been at odds. Since their creation, the two branches of the military had never gotten along, constantly mocking and belittling one another.
"Anyone know which Fleet has been stationed in high orbit above Turaxis lately?" Augustus asked.
"Judging by their badges, they should be from Alpha Squadron," Lundstein said after a moment’s thought. "According to the publicly available Turaxis II Starport log, the only battlecruiser in synchronous orbit right now is the Bismarck—a Behemoth-class ship."
