"You have strong hands. And your eyes remind me of a fierce wolf... Oh, you're handsome," Annabella murmured, her sultry lips alluring. She was clearly well-maintained, though her low-cut gown strained to support an overly generous bust—Augustus constantly worried it might fail under pressure.
"How many push-ups can you do? How much can you bench? Have you ever run the ancient Earth race called the marathon?"
"Are you... enduring?"
"Mr. Terra didn't come to the banquet?" Augustus looked around, mentally reminding himself that this wasn't some illicit affair.
At the same time, he couldn't shake the feeling that Annabella's unrestrained interest in him might lead to unforeseen complications.
"You mean Constantino?" Annabella replied nonchalantly. "Oh, he's still tied up in Palombo. They're building a new maglev car factory there. The production lines for the latest maglev bikes and cars are already up and running." She then teased Augustus a bit, adding, "You're shy, aren't you?"
"No need to worry. Though Constantino and I are married, we basically lead separate lives," Annabella said. "It's a political marriage. There's no real affection between us. As long as it's not anything too outrageous, Constantino would forgive you."
"Ma'am..." It was the first time Augustus had encountered such a situation. He had to admit, he was completely out of his depth. He could chat freely with young women around his own age, but when it came to women two or three times older, he had no idea how to handle it.
"My daughter's quite fond of you, too," Annabella added as they danced, complaining that Augustus's hand was in the wrong position. "That hand on my waist—lower it a bit."
"..."
Augustus chose not to comment. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and didn't foolishly ask which daughter she meant.
This was all too strange.
"You're part of the Korhal branch of House Mengsk. Many people believe you're the heir to Angus Mengsk—the rising star of Korhal's political scene and the future master of a commercial empire spanning multiple planets." Annabella had stopped teasing Augustus now.
"I have a twenty-eight-year-old older brother. He's far more outstanding than I am."
Augustus could tell that the Terra family—at least Annabella Terra, and perhaps only her—didn't hold the same deep hostility toward the Mengsk family that many others did. She seemed to view them as true nobility, equals in rank.
To the aristocrats of Tarsonis, the so-called Old Families of other core worlds were nothing more than upstart nobility, barely a century into their rise. When the founding families of Tarsonis had already seized control of the Confederacy, the ancestors of House Mengsk had still been just a starship captain—or perhaps an ordinary crewman—in the colonial fleet. But by gaining control of a wealthy world like Korhal, the Mengsk family had at least earned a surface-level appearance of equality.
Augustus had noticed how, ever since the uprisings on Korhal and the growing calls among senators to sever the planet's ties with the Confederacy, the more powerful nobles of Tarsonis began to keep their distance from him—or worse, to regard him with outright loathing.
No one showed this more clearly than the Tygore family. Augustus was certain that after the banquet, someone from House Tygore would come knocking.
Maybe he could still try to win the support of the Terra family, though Augustus didn't hold out much hope. Families like theirs—these ancient Old Families—had long-established roots in the power structures of Tarsonis. To protect the privileges and wealth they already possessed, they naturally stood in opposition to revolutionaries like Angus.
All Augustus truly hoped was that the Terra family would remain neutral—especially on the matter of deploying Apocalypse-class nuclear warheads to obliterate Korhal.
"But the people of Korhal haven't seen your brother in eight years," Annabella said. "He disappeared after retiring from the military. No one's been able to find him."
"That's right. I don't know where he is either."
Augustus understood that 'the people of Korhal' likely referred to federal agents currently stationed on Korhal, and that 'no one' probably meant all of them combined.
Annabella fell silent for a while. It seemed her interest in Augustus wasn't just due to his handsome face or refined conversation.
"Tell me—do you think your father was right?" she asked suddenly after a pause.
"Of course not. He was an utter fool. That stubborn old man's mind was on the verge of collapse," Augustus replied, his voice rising slightly. "It was because I was so disappointed in him that I joined the Marine Corps in the first place."
"It was the Old Families and the nobility system that gave House Mengsk its current status. Why should we just hand that power over—surrender Korhal to ignorant commoners who lack education or talent?"
"Believe me—
I, Augustus Mengsk, love the Terran Confederacy more than I love myself."
...
The waltz flowed slowly and gracefully. Dressed in elegant evening attire, the nobles were immersed in the gentle steps of the dance and the swirling of skirts. It was already late at night, but the skies above Tarsonis still shimmered in a blaze of multicolored lights, with the city's brilliant illumination continuing uninterrupted throughout the night.
Every few minutes, a beautiful meteor shower would streak across the sky—this was the sight of merchant and engineering vessels returning from interstellar space as they passed through the atmosphere on their descent to Tarsonis.
Augustus had impressive stamina; he had danced with nearly every woman who had approached him. Annabella of the Terra Old Family even invited him to spend the night at the Sky Tower of Terra.
These women didn't care whether or not he was a descendant of the Mengsk family. What they liked was a young, handsome officer. Men like Edmund Duke, by contrast, received no attention at all.
The leading lady of the evening, Andrea Tygore, didn't seem too concerned with the officer delegates she had invited. Instead, she was focused on the perfectly smoked cut of Antiga bison before her. Her rigid ceramic dentures and auxiliary mastication device helped her chew the tough meat with clean, efficient bites.
When Augustus finally managed to sit down beside Raynor—who was already stuffed from eating—the men from the other Old Families began to approach.
The representatives of the Old Families already knew who Augustus was. Even if they didn't have time to study his background in detail, the corporate decision-makers and their aides had no doubt briefed them. Most of these men avoided Augustus and the legacy of the Mengsk family entirely—or greeted him with cold indifference.
The first to approach was Cornelius Brubaker, Viscount of the Brubaker family—an arms manufacturer with a long-standing reputation. The name was especially well-known among officers and soldiers during the Guild Wars. The electromagnetic rifles used by the Marines were designed and produced by a subsidiary under the Brubaker Group. They were also developing various calibers of railguns and military-grade upgrades for ship-based weaponry.
While war had devastated countless colonies and caused millions of deaths, the wealth of arms dealers like the Brubaker family had skyrocketed in a short span of time—along with their status and prestige.
Yet human greed knows no bounds. Though the war between the Kel-Morian Combine and the Terran Federation was nearing its end, the arms factories still ran at full capacity.
The shrewdest among the weapons magnates had already caught the scent of another war looming on the horizon—like sharks smelling blood in the water.
Cornelius, a man with a neatly trimmed mustache, appeared exceedingly friendly and affable. "Young Augustus," he greeted warmly, "I'm Cornelius Brubaker, patriarch of the Brubaker family. I met your father Angus over a decade ago. He was a brave and upright man."
"Some insist that Angus should bear responsibility for the unrest on Korhal IV, but I don't see it that way. The people of Korhal have minds of their own and the right to pursue a better life and greater freedom. Every citizen of the Federation deserves to be treated with basic human dignity," Cornelius said.
"Do you really believe that, Mr. Brubaker?" Augustus asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "To be honest, under the influence of my foolish, incurable, and mentally unstable father, Korhal IV has fallen into utter chaos. People have nothing to do all day but party, protest, smash up stores, and seize goods that don't belong to them."
"Order on Korhal is deteriorating by the day. The economy is on the verge of collapse, and a wave of mass unemployment has already begun."
"Oh, how terrible," Cornelius replied, taking out a silk handkerchief and dabbing at imaginary tears with theatrical sympathy. "The Federal Assembly should provide the unemployed citizens of Korhal with the necessary welfare and subsidies. It's just heartbreaking—who knows how many will starve to death!"
"May God bless Korhal," Cornelius added, making a gesture of prayer.
"You think so as well? Then I hope you'll be willing to support my people," Augustus said earnestly. "They lack clothing and food, and their stomachs are empty. Our industries have shut down due to worker strikes and attacks by the Federal Resistance. Local companies are laying off employees en masse due to plummeting profits. Food overproduction has become a glaring issue—yet in the slums, one-third of the population is starving to death."
"Is that so? Then the Federal Assembly hasn't done nearly enough. Those lazy, do-nothing council members should apologize—or better yet, resign immediately," said Cornelius. Despite his words, his expression clearly conveyed, Don't try to fool me—I don't read the papers, but I'm not an idiot.
"I really don't know what the people of Korhal will do if a war breaks out between them and the Federation," he sighed.
"Why would there be a war?" Augustus sounded stunned, as if genuinely startled by Cornelius's comment. "Sir, do you want rivers of blood to flow through my homeland? My God—that's a wicked thought."
"Of course not. The Brubaker family has always opposed senseless wars," Cornelius waved his hand. "We've always advocated peaceful coexistence between different nations and systems. I was merely speaking of a possibility. No one wants war—not truly."
"The Brubaker family supports the Korhalan people's desire for greater autonomy, and their goal of turning Korhal into a neutral trade planet. If you require proof, the Brubaker Mining Group will be holding a press conference later today to formally support the Korhalans in their just pursuit of rights and freedom."
"Then you should speak to my father," Augustus sighed. "He hasn't been very busy lately. In fact, I've already made arrangements to send him to a psychiatric hospital. The people of Korhal still believe that the eloquent senator who delivers such grand speeches is not insane."
"He didn't seem unstable to me…" Cornelius frowned, and then appeared to lose interest in continuing the conversation with Augustus. "Forgive me, young man of House Mengsk, I must step away for a moment."
"I hope we'll have the chance to meet again," Augustus said, no longer complaining about his 'foolish' father.
"We'll meet again," Cornelius replied, putting on his bowler hat and hurrying off.
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