The Marines of the Turaxis Main Base and the Fleet Soldiers of the Alpha Squadron stared at each other for a few seconds. Then, the leading sergeant major of the fleet waved his hand and led his men to find a few empty seats to sit down.
Before they sat down, a fleet soldier suddenly staggered as he walked toward his chosen seat. In fact, there were no Marines around him, and only his own people were within three yards, but this immediately became the spark that ignited the conflict.
"The Marines tripped me!" At that moment, another fleet soldier, who was standing steadily, suddenly shouted loudly.
"Beat the bastard up!" The Marines cheered, and a technical sergeant took the lead and charged forward.
The two groups of men suddenly clashed. In an instant, about sixty Marines in maroon and brown uniforms and Fleet Soldiers in black uniforms were entangled in a chaotic brawl. Food, wine, and everything on the tables were knocked over.
The bartender at the front desk watched the scene calmly. Clearly, such events were common here. The wood-grain painted tables and chairs were actually cast from alloy, firmly embedded in the steel bars under the floor with screws and bolts. Even if a herd of bulls were fighting for a mate here, they wouldn't budge.
"Gentlemen, sirs! Please stop!" the bar owner shouted while wiping a crystal wine glass. His pale face trembled due to excessive intake of chemical hallucinogens. "The sheriff and the military police are on their way!"
But no one listened. The fight escalated, spreading like spilled ink in a petri dish or falling dominoes—consuming the bar with wildfire speed.
Even those who didn't want to be involved were dragged into the fray. Soldiers wrestling with each other overturned table after table. When randomly thrown beer bottles struck innocent bystanders and even their own comrades, the situation spiraled completely out of control.
Everything on the tables crashed to the floor. Shards of vases and glasses sparkled under the dazzling lights. Women began to scream and cry.
It all seemed to happen in an instant. By the time Augustus and the others regained their senses, they were already caught in the melee.
Tom Omer was the first to be targeted. A red-eyed fleet soldier dumped a plate of leftover fried chicken on his face. Before Omer could react, the man struck him with a heavy punch, knocking him to the ground and pummeling him.
The one who attacked Omer was a seasoned fleet veteran. Omer, having just graduated from boot camp, was no match for him.
"Someone help me!"
Lundstein and the others, who were with Omer, immediately sprang into action. Lundstein kicked the fleet soldier in the shoulder, and then together with the others, including Omer, launched a powerful counterattack.
"The situation doesn't look good," Raynor muttered, scanning the bar for other exits. But they were surrounded by battling soldiers, leaving no escape route. They had no choice but to dodge flying bottles and other debris.
At this point, staying out of the fight was impossible. In the blink of an eye, soldiers were grappling all around them. Even in this era, where interstellar migration had become routine and humanity's homeworld was ever-expanding, the tensions between military branches remained irreconcilable.
"They don't have as many men as we do," Augustus said to Raynor. "I did a rough count. The Marines have at least 200 men, several times more than the fleet."
"Let's go! We'll break out through the front."
Before Raynor could respond, Augustus had climbed onto a table with his chair. His voice momentarily drowned out the soldiers' curses and screams.
"Marines! Follow me!"
For a moment, everyone in the bar looked up at him, but most were confused, as they didn't know who Augustus was.
After jumping off the table, Hank grabbed a bottle and charged forward, followed by Jim. The rest of the first squad of the second platoon, D Company, closed in around Augustus, and several nearby Marines joined them.
The first opponent Hank encountered was a fleet corporal over seven feet tall. In the bar, his height made him stand out from the crowd, towering over everyone else.
The corporal charged at Hanak like an enraged brown bear, but Hank cleverly ducked to avoid the attack, then delivered a punch to the man's soft abdomen.
It was clear the corporal was all muscle and no skill. After just a few punches, he collapsed to his knees, vomiting. Hank, on the other hand, had been the most notorious brawler in his hometown.
Using the same technique, Hanak took down two more fleet soldiers, while Jim and the others fought off several more.
By now, the bar was in complete chaos. Every soldier was fighting independently, but a dozen Marines moving as a unit became an unstoppable force.
Augustus led his men in dragging fleet soldiers out of the crowd and beating them senseless until they could no longer stand, then tossing them aside. The more they resisted, the harder they were beaten.
The fleet soldiers were outnumbered. With each one Augustus and his comrades took down, more Marines joined them.
Nothing could stop Augustus as he made his way to the hotel's main entrance. By the time he reached the door, about thirty or forty Marines had gathered around him, while a pile of unconscious Marines and fleet soldiers lay scattered on the floor.
It happened to be the first day of graduation for new recruits. The fleet had just arrived in Turaxis recently, and when they started causing trouble, they hadn't noticed that the bar had far more Marines than usual. Nor had they expected the Marines to be so united.
Regardless, the fleet suffered a crushing defeat in today's conflict.
This bar averaged a fight every week and required renovations every half a month, but no one had ever taken charge before. The participants were always from different battalions, companies, and departments, lacking cohesion. After the brawls, they simply went back to their own quarters as if nothing had happened.
Fights had always been chaotic, and the military police usually arrived before a clear winner could emerge. But this time, the fleet had taken a serious beating.
Standing at the entrance of the Bloody Mary Bar, Augustus looked back inside. The Marines around him instinctively gathered closer.
For a moment, the only sound in the bar was the background music. All eyes were on Augustus' cold gray stare. If he had given an order at that moment, many of them would have followed it without hesitation.
This eerie silence didn't last long. Soon, Augustus heard the sharp whistle of the military police.
"What are you waiting for? Run!"
As soon as Augustus spoke, the sound of dozens of boots stomping on the stone pavement filled the street. Even the hum of a military reconnaissance vehicle's engine could be heard.
Brawling wasn't a big deal in the Marine Corps—at worst, they'd be locked up for a day or two—but no one wanted to be caught. In an instant, both the Marines and fleet soldiers scattered. Those too injured or unconscious could only blame their luck.
"Augustus, well done!" Jim praised as they ran.
"Fleet bastards! I've been fed up with them for ages!"
"Good job!"
Cheers erupted. Running ahead, Augustus glanced back and saw people following—Marines and fleet soldiers alike. At least half the bar had joined the fleeing crowd.
"Don't all follow me! Split up!"
The soldiers following Augustus suddenly sobered up after hearing his words. So many people were running like a drill on the street, as if they were afraid that the military police didn't know they were here.
So, every ten steps, a group of people turned into another street or alley. These people were active soldiers who were very familiar with Braddock Town and knew where to run.
The remaining twenty or so recruits were in the dark. The recruits could only continue to follow Augustus, hoping that Augustus could lead them to escape the pursuit of the military police.
It was Augustus' first day in Braddock Town. He realized that the best thing for him to do at this moment was to run along the main road of the street because they didn't know where the side roads and alleys beside the road would eventually lead to. But unless Augustus could outrun the car, they would be caught up sooner or later.