Augustus, dressed in a light blue tracksuit, walked along a path paved with yellow and white stones, as young men and women carrying books passed by him and his entourage. They all noticed the slowly pacing Augustus with his hands clasped behind his back, followed by stern-faced Revolutionary Army soldiers and expressionless Kel-Morian agents.
It was mid-March of the year 2490, just over two months before Sakai University's new graduation season. The graduating students were racking their brains over their lab projects, struggling to keep up with advisors' endless stream of research assignments.
As he walked, Augustus studied Sakai's layout, hoping to draw inspiration here for rebuilding Korhal University.
Having already spent a week on Moria, Augustus devoted considerable time to greasing palms among the Moria government's officials with hard currency in the form of Ardeon crystals, and secured from an executive director of the Kelanis Shipping Guild a letter of introduction addressed to the president of Sakai University.
Two days earlier, Augustus had met that president face to face; the vigorous elder turned out to be a staunch supporter of Korhal's revolutionary cause. He believed the Korhalans' resistance deserved the respect of all Kel-Morians, while his defeated compatriots only knew how to wallow in the pain of their failure.
Thus Augustus promptly secured an opportunity to give a speech at Sakai University—after all, while waiting on Moria for the Combine's arms factories to complete the first batch of weapons, he truly had nothing else to do. He certainly could not just go carousing with Tychus and Harnack.
At present Augustus had already taken delivery of about 120,000 sets of crimson-painted Kel-Morian Ripper powered armor and 200,000 Kel-Morian Gauss rifles. Heavy tanks numbered only 1,500 delivered, but the stockpile of the Combine's Goliath combat robots was clearly immense; within a week they had already shipped 5,000 units to the Revolutionary Army fleet.
And Augustus had, as he wished, spent every last bit of his budget, mulling over whether next to mine or plunder some Confederate colony.
At the same time, if the fleet was to remain in space for an extended period, Augustus also had to account for the crew's morale and mental state.
"I can sense there are some psionics in this university. They must be students," Sarah Kerrigan said quietly as she followed Augustus along a gravel path through the gardens toward a spired bronze-colored building.
At this moment, Augustus was accompanied only by Kerrigan, Corporal Faraday, and Warfield, who had come for a tour. Tychus and the others had long since been sent back to the fleet by Augustus.
"Their families must all be either wealthy or noble," Corporal Faraday speculated.
Of the three human governments, only in the Umojan Republic—which had always proclaimed freedom and democracy—did psionics find slightly better treatment. But the Shadow Guards, also called warriors who did not exist, rarely appeared in the public eye.
In the Terran Confederacy and the Kel-Morian Combine, psionics faced nearly identical conditions: they had to endure inhuman experiments and training to become cold-blooded killers, with only the children of nobles and guild elites having any chance of escaping such fates.
The Combine's Ghost Program had begun later than that of the Terran Confederacy or the Umojan Republic, yet it poured in far more resources.
The Combine's elite strata valued their own lives and fortunes above all else, and they had a particular fondness for powerful security forces. A Kel-Morian Ghost operative could be used to spy on a rival enterprise's commercial intelligence, or to steal the core secrets and research results of a competitor's industry.
Yet in fact, innately gifted psionics often excelled in the fields they specialized in. Their abilities could expand the cerebral cortex, making their thinking all the more active.
And telepathy would easily cause psionics to develop nearly adult-level maturity at a very young age. Of course, if a psionic possessed an inherently extreme personality, their extremity would also far surpass that of ordinary people.
"Only the children of guild elites and corporate management have any chance of escaping capture by the Kel-Morian Combine's psionic laboratories. Aside from Moria, they also collect psionics from across the Combine—and even from the Terran Confederacy and the Umojan Republic. Their laboratories may well be even more vicious and inhumane than the Confederacy's."
"If possible, I want those psionics to serve me. I'll grant them citizenship—and build a city for all psionics in the Koprulu Sector."
Talking with his entourage, Augustus spent over ten minutes crossing Sakai University's beautiful gardens before stepping into a building with flowing curves and enormous windows.
It was a standalone structure refined in artistic detail and exquisite ornamentation. The first floor was a vaulted auditorium, where sunlight streamed down from massive arched windows, cascading through the air. The lower walls were lined with intricately designed lamps; the interplay of light and shadow was precisely the artistic focus its architect had sought to emphasize.
When Augustus, under the escort of the staff, entered the lecture hall and stepped onto the stage elevated above the audience seats, thousands of students already sat below, holding books and pens, while more continued to file in. Everyone had to ensure they carried no weapons before entering.
As Augustus took his place at the podium, Kerrigan stood backstage, while Corporal Faraday led a platoon of Marshal's Guards to form a line in front of the platform, blocking the space between the Marshal and the students.
The Sakai University students gathered here had been told that Augustus Mengsk—the man who had recently dealt a heavy blow to the Confederate Navy's Alpha Squadron—was about to give a speech at their school. This was rare in the Kel-Morian Combine, though it was a tactic often used by Terran Confederacy politicians to court young voters.
On the eve of the Korhal uprising, Angus Mengsk himself had given speeches at several prestigious universities.
The Kel-Morians' understanding of Augustus mostly came from the Confederacy's official media's negative propaganda against the Revolutionary Army, which portrayed Augustus as Satan from Hell and called his soldiers demons.
Yet such words resonated very differently among different groups. The Korhalans viewed UNN's reports in complete reversal: if Augustus was said to have slaughtered hundreds of thousands of innocents on Mar Sara, then in truth he must have undoubtedly saved just as many lives.
As for the Kel-Morians, they were far more inclined to see Augustus as a fighter for freedom.
After the Guild Wars ended, the Combine government had signed humiliating treaties—reparations, ceding of territories, surrender of technologies, and transfer of mining companies. Every Kel-Morian, especially the youth, harbored a suppressed anger of humiliation, calling for a new war to reclaim lost lands. But the Combine government, its backbone already broken, had undergone a total purge.
Defeatism spread among the elites and upper echelons. The hawks who had once launched the war were driven from the centers of power, and neither the Combine Board of Directors nor their capital backers believed any longer that they possessed the strength to challenge the Terran Confederacy.
The Kel-Morian Combine had once been a proud commercial empire—now it was nothing more than a sick body beaten down by the Confederacy.
——This was the truth. Any ruler not blinded by delusion or arrogance should recognize the gap that now existed between the Combine and the Terran Confederacy.
"In front of me stands a great people." Augustus looked out over the sea of dark heads and countless pairs of shining eyes. He rarely gave speeches, yet was almost self-taught—he had never needed a script.
Augustus sometimes practiced speeches before a mirror, imagining himself facing tens of thousands. His clear mind and eloquent expression quickly made him skilled at oration. What he lacked were fiery words to stir hearts—and for that, he only needed to learn from the great orators of history.
"As you all know, I am Augustus Mengsk, son of Angus Mengsk and Katherine Mengsk, a revolutionary from Korhal, an ascetic bearing the torch of freedom. I am about the same age as many of you here. I have walked the worlds of Tarsonis and Mar Sara. I have seen stars burn and fleets annihilated."
"I have been told that the history of the Kel-Morian Combine is as long as that of the Terran Confederacy—that Kel-Morians are braver, more tenacious, more industrious, and more prosperous than Terrans."
From Augustus's standpoint, he could not claim to be a Kel-Morian himself. More often, he could only speak as an observer.
"After four years of war, everything changed. The people of the Terran Confederacy now swagger across the lands of the Combine, trampling on the dignity of the Kel-Morian people."
As Augustus's deep gray eyes swept across the audience, many students dared not meet his confident gaze. They lowered their heads to avoid it, forming a dark wave across the seats.
"The star banners of the Terran Confederacy now fly over territories that once belonged to the Combine. They drive out the native Morians—like cutting grass from the soil and leaving it to wither under the sun."
Augustus's words stirred a wave of resonance among the audience—students draped in Kel-Morian flags were already standing, waving their banners aloft.
Within the Kel-Morian Combine, the number of secret organizations and resistance groups opposing the Confederacy was far greater than what the Combine government knew. Even now, several legions had declared independence from the Combine and continued to fight Confederate forces across the Koprulu Sector, seeking to reclaim their homeworlds.
Augustus spoke in the auditorium for well over ten minutes. By now, he was thoroughly adept at using specific gestures to steer the emotions of his listeners. He had long since mastered the hand movements of his father, Angus; his tone was neither overly forceful nor filled with unnecessary pauses. Augustus was not reciting—each of his sentences was crisp and clear, ensuring everyone could understand every word he spoke.
"As Kel-Morians, one day you must fight to liberate those worlds seized by the Terran Confederacy," Augustus declared. As the final word left his lips, thunderous applause filled the hall.
Judging from the passionate atmosphere, it was clearly a successful speech. Of course, this had merely been one of Augustus's impromptu exercises—he had consciously used the occasion to hone his skill in this craft.
When Augustus stepped down from the podium, many students pushed through the crowd to reach him; some hot-blooded youths, overcome with fervor, declared their wish to join the Revolutionary Army. Augustus shook each of their hands, even signing autographs—which struck him as rather strange.
When the crowd around Augustus finally began to disperse, a somewhat shy-looking young man stepped forward.
"I'm Victor Kachinsky, Marshal Augustus. I want to join you," he said.
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