"It looks like my mom and dad never touched the money I sent them," Raynor sighed, as he did most days lately, sounding utterly defeated.
"The last ti I talked to my dad over video, he looked even thinner than before. First the bonus, then the weapons we sold, and finally the profit from the crystals back in New Apollon—that’s three payouts in total. They haven’t spent a single cent."
"They didn’t even use that ’questionably sourced’ money to buy food," he muttered.
"Your folks are weird, Jim," said Harnack. "Starving to death, and they care whether the money’s clean?"
"They taught from a young age that a person should feed themselves with money earned through hard work. Any gain not earned is shaful," Raynor said bitterly. "I should’ve known—saying I just found the money by accident was never going to fly."
"Dammit, why would you listen to an idiot like Harnack?" Ryk Kydd snapped angrily.
"Jim must’ve been drunk when he wired that money," Augustus muttered, shaking his head. "Rember what I told you guys? Soone on Tarsonis is trying to invite to so old lady’s birthday party. Must’ve been so upper-level notice, because they approved a two-week leave for just like that."
"I’m guessing they won’t let retire until I’ve gone to Tarsonis," Augustus continued. "I told Warfield I’d be bringing a squad of Heaven’s Devils with , and he gave the green light."
"It’s half a sector from inhoff to Tarsonis. We can stop over in Shiloh for a day," he added.
"Shiloh’s not a good place. They could move to Korhal or Umoja instead. I’ll have soone arrange jobs for them."
"No. Not Korhal," Raynor imdiately shook his head.
"You know that place is going to beco the epicenter of the next war."
...
inhoff Geosynchronous Orbital Station, Launch Bay.
At Launch Bay C, Augustus and First Squad of his Heaven’s Devils were waiting for the arrival of an interstellar jumper. Also waiting alongside them was Rory Swann, whom Augustus had recently hired to work in the shipyards and tech labs of the Korhal Revolutionary Army.
"You told Korhal IV is facing so ’minor trouble’?"
While they waited, Swann turned to Augustus beside him.
"If you call a revolution ’minor trouble,’ then sure," Augustus replied without hiding the truth.
"Heh, I figured you’d say sothing like, ’All we’ve gotta do is kick those nobles in the ass and flip their fancy houses upside down,’" Swann chuckled without the slightest hint of fear. "You’ve always had a way of making hard things sound easy."
"Like when soone says Mr. ngsk plans to bring down the sun from the sky, and he just goes, ’Oh, we’ll just build a pyramid tall enough to reach deep space. Easy enough’."
"I’m not here to lecture you, Swann," Augustus said. "But soone’s got to step up and inspire people—and I often have to be that guy. Anyway, forget that for now. Do you rember which exit you’re supposed to take at the Styrling Skyport? And what your contact looks like?"
"I’m morizing it," Swann replied. "Shouldn’t be too hard. I’m no dumb dwarf—you don’t have to keep reminding ."
Just a few days ago, Augustus had tracked down Rory Swann again—now unemployed after the Heaven’s Devils had disbanded.
Augustus signed a five-year contract with Swann, offering him 20 million Federal credits—roughly 15 million Kel-Morian coins. It was enough to keep the Swann family afloat until the Federal military finally withdrew.
Swann had said plainly that ever since Federal-appointed officials took over the New Apollon mining district and factories, the Kel-Morians had been enslaved. They were fed ager rations and lived like slaves—far worse than when the Heaven’s Devils were still around.
Rebellion had always been inevitable. Yet even so, his family refused to leave inhoff. So Swann chose to follow Augustus and find work—because he had to earn enough to keep his people alive.
"My cousins won’t be heading to Korhal for a while yet, but I’ll need to recruit so local help to work on the upgraded version of the Goliath assault robot and design new powered armor. Good thing you gave those two decommissioned prototypes—CMC suits and gauss rifles," Swann added, shaking his head. "Let’s just hope the Korhalans are as reliable as the people on inhoff."
"Where’d you dig up that treasure trove?"
"Back on Polk’s Pride, we ran into so unlucky gangsters. I suspect they were funded by so rich rebel group," Augustus told him.
"There’s more than one rebel faction? Well, the more the rrier," Swann smacked his lips.
"So? Will you be able to reverse-engineer the Goliath and powered armor schematics?" Augustus still wasn’t at ease.
"If we had to start from scratch, it’d take years. But we Kel-Morians have already been studying these CMC suits and Goliath bots. We’ve overco so major technical hurdles. Besides, didn’t you say the Umojans are sending experts too?" Swann replied.
"Umojan reverse engineering is phenonal. They’ve probably already mastered perfect replicas of powered armor and Goliaths. So of my relatives working abroad even said if the Umojans ever got their hands on a Federal battlecruiser, they could build an elite fleet in no ti."
"The Umojans are also trying to reconstruct mysterious alien ruins they found on certain planets, hoping to reverse-engineer alien tech. But who knows? Maybe those aliens were wiped out millions of years ago. Or maybe the whole thing’s just a cosmic joke."
"Maybe there really are aliens out there—who knows?" Augustus shrugged.
At that mont, a large shuttle flew into the port. Augustus and the others waved farewell to Swann.
"Good luck to you, Mr. Swann of inhoff."
"And good luck to you too, Boss ngsk." Swann gave a wave, then sank into a circular chair nearby, already beginning to feel a quiet sense of lancholy at the thought of leaving his holand.
Fate truly was strange. Just a few months ago, he never would have imagined he’d one day leave his ho to seek a living elsewhere. Augustus’s complete trust in Swann’s abilities was certainly a factor, but more than that, it was the offer—an amount no man in his position could refuse.
In the end, Rory Swann sohow found himself appointed head of the Weapons Research and Manufacturing Division of the Korhal Revolutionary Army, complete with several R&D stations and labs under the ngsk Group now under his command.
At this mont, Swann recalled sothing Augustus had told him more than once:
Swann, you’re destined to beco a great inventor. Keep thinking, keep learning.
And make more friends in weapons design.
The first part still made sense. The second... not so much.
...
Centerville, Shilo, Terran Federation Territory
From geosynchronous orbit, the planet Shilo appeared as a brilliant shade of orange, its main continents separated by vast oceans.
With habitable temperatures and a reliable supply of water, Shilo had beco one of the Federation’s colonies—but it was far from a prosperous world. The planet lacked mineral and tal resources, and most of its terrain was dry land coated in alkaline peat. Farming here required backbreaking labor and constant struggle.
Unlike a major core world like Korhal IV, Shilo was spared from war thanks to its complete lack of features or strategic value. Yet its people still suffered, driven to starvation by crushing taxation.
"Maybe we could set up a base for the Revolutionary Army here," Augustus remarked as he stepped off the rented hovercar, setting foot on Shiloh’s black-gray soil for the first ti. "The people here are resilient—and brave. More importantly, they’re starving."
"It’s even bleaker than I rember," said Raynor, standing behind him, looking wistfully at the dod structures of Centerville.
"This little town sent a lot of folks off to war. But how many ever ca back? We fought for the Federation—yet the Federation let our parents and families starve."
"And the Revolutionary Army will change all of that," Augustus promised.
Raynor then led Augustus and the others toward his ho. Like most buildings on Shiloh, the colonial houses were built mostly underground, with 80 to 90 percent of each dwelling sunken into the soil to escape the planet’s blistering heat and biting winters.
At the door to Raynor’s ho, Augustus t Raynor’s mother—a woman with erald eyes and jet-black hair. She was alarmingly thin, and her once-beautiful face had lost all its fullness.
It was this woman who had taught Raynor to be honest and kind.
Carol Raynor.
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