My Armor Is Contempt (Techno Union)

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In the past, Bastion had belonged to the Primeval, a terror cult that burned every world they came across in service of their dark gods. Their control over the sector had been shaken in recent months as the galactic superpower had summarily collapsed. The strategists on Zenith Prime had watched them from afar knowing the Primeval would never reach the Techno Union's borders. Delam recalled how excited Major Berensk had been hearing the news of the Primeval's fall. Delam had not understood why at the time, but he felt he did now.

A small team had been dispatched to the former cult world. There was little to no information as to the planet's current state, though Delam's advisers had assured him it would be overrun with the cult's fanatics. There would be no end of bloodshed once they set foot upon the planet.

That was all well and fine. The warriors needed practice against something other than pirates and mercenaries. They ran. An enemy that had a cause, that fought for a set of beliefs, was a different beast all together. They would not run, and the zeal with which they fought might match the legion's own.

Was Delam excited? Perhaps.

He was seated in the back of an LAAT alongside his brothers and soldiers of the Techno Union. the High Lord preoccupied himself with scrubbing a crimson stain out of his helmet. It was a fruitless effort - even if he managed to get it out, there would be battle once again. It kept him distracted.

"We'll need to return to the union soon," he mumbled, "Our findings on Dressel - they worry me Laman. Things aren't as we thought they were." He looked up to meet the Captain's gaze. The man was a friend, one Delam felt he could confide in.

"We'll be dropping in on one of the old mining facilities. Take all the phrik and phrikite you can. Once the ship is filled to the brim, we leave."

[member="Laman Ress"]

 

[Laman Ress]

Laman was sharpening his vibrosword, he always kept one along with his rifle, it allowed him to be a deadly force in melee. Laman sat in the shuttle quietly for most of the ride, he was mentally preparing for the battle ahead. What they learned on Dressel was disgusting in his opinion, the nobility were running multiple criminal enterprises, slave markets, spice hubs, you name it, it was pathetic. Laman knew there were many good people in this government, but the nobility were disgusting, something needed to be done about them. Though it was not Laman's job to take care of that mess, he did what he was told and nothing more.

"It worries me as well, something needs to be done." He said

"It will be done sir." He continued.

[member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Placeholder 01]

The flight down was relatively pleasant compared to recent planetary insertions. No AA fire to jostle the occupants about. No terribly dangerous maneuvers that the pilots assured everyone aboard were perfectly safe. No warning klaxons or new blood yammering on about how excited they were. The flight was smooth, silent, peaceful even.

It set Delam on edge.

"You're too stoic Laman," He reached over to clap the Captain on his shoulder, "Though I suppose it suits you." The High Lord leaned back into his chair and let his gaze fall upon the Techno Union soldiers that accompanied them.

Delam had made an effort to include them. He had no desire for the men and women of Zenith Prime to begin thinking that offworlders served any other purpose than their own - the Techno Union was their home, and they would protect it as well as any of Delam's warriors. The pilot's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Dropping in two."

Delam tensed. He drew in a deep breath, counted the seconds, anything to keep the pre-battle anxiety from breaking his resolve. He was unyielding, a force no mere cultists could ever hope to challenge.

He was the bulwark that the enemies of the union shattered themselves upon.

The ship jostled about as it lowered to the ground. The hanger doors hissed open, and the hot dry air of the open mine slapped Delam in the face. Grumbling a curse under his breath, he pushed up to his feet and donned his helmet. He wasted no time in marching down the gangplank onto the dusty ground.

The mine was more like a massive sinkhole that stretched several miles down. Numerous buildings lined the inner walls along roads carved out of the sides of the sinkhole. Various caves could be seen dotting the sides of those roads, no doubt where the mining droids went to do their work.

"Status?"

[member="Laman Ress"]

 

[Laman Ress]

Laman stepped outside, and donned a helmet, the air was dusty and difficult to breathe without a filter filtering out the dust and toxic fumes coming from the refining process. The mine appeared abandoned, but you never know, maybe everyone was just hiding, waiting to strike on anyone who comes by. The fall of the Primeval was not good for the various backwater worlds they controlled, it caused economic collapse on many of them, causing their inhabitants to resort to becoming scavengers and raiders, taking whatever they could to survive.

"Looks clear, but i question the structural stability of this "mine"." Laman said

The mine looked as if it was going to collapse. The wood used to support it was rotting, and the ground looked as if it was going to fall at any moment. Every building was a shanty shack. It looked less like a mine and more like a slave pit.

[member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Placeholder 01]

"You and I both brother." Delam affirmed.

The mine was not a pretty sight, but then Delam had no thoughts that it would be. The place had been abandoned for some time, and though the High Lord knew little of the Primeval or their ways, from what he had heard, it fit the description. One should not expect a death cult to care much for its servants or the holdings they lorded over.

Still, the abandonment was unsettling. There was no sound but the quiet howl of the wind over a dead land. No life graced this place; everything was dirty and covered in grime. The only sign of life Delam could make out lay in the form of gnarled humanoid bones at the entrance of one of the buildings. The High Lord just shook his head and strode down the path.

"We'll try the warehouses first. Something must have been left behind."

[member="Laman Ress"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Things certainly had changed.

In Aelius' old Empire, the very concept of a resource shortage was a foreign and laughable idea. The Empire and it's complex system of bureaucrats, clerks and subservient corporations spider webbed across the Galaxy which it held in it's iron -- firm, but fair -- grip, providing Palpatine's New Order with virtual unlimited amounts of whatever it needed, whether that need be credits, phrik, cortosis or any other material a man could dream of.

The whirl of the LAAT engines dragged the ancient Royal Guard back into the present.

The tables have turned. From storming Coruscants with a rowdy band of usurpers, from launching an lightning attack on this facility in order to secure resources, it felt more and more like he had become the very thing he spent so many long years in mud soaked trenches rocked by explosions, beset by saboteurs and guerrilas within furious urban fighting.

Rebels.

The vessel rocked and stirred as it hovered above the surface of the planet. With a sharp screech, the hanger doors retracted, greeting Aelius with a blast of hot sand that coated his visor. Lifting a hand to wipe off his helmet, he silently proceeded behind his new-found comrades.

[member="Delam Mairev"]

[member="Laman Ress"]

 

[Laman Ress]

Laman nodded to the High Lord in acknowledgment. Laman kept walking until he came across the warehouse, they were not that far, right at the top, it was probably for the better, allowed for better access for transports, and made it easier logistically. The first one they came across was a metal prefab, with one very large door next to a normal sized door.

Laman kicked open the normal sized door, and stepped inside. The building was dark, and musky, Laman quicly found a large circuit breaker, and flipped the switch. All of a sudden, the lights burst to light, slowly coming up from front to back, it was strange how it worked, it was almost if electricity had slown down, whatever, it looked nice.

Inside there were boxes galore, he would have to check the registry to see if there was any phrik in here, but for now, he just waited for the others to make a decision.
[member="Aelius Varangian"]
[member="Delam Mairev"]

 

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"You were a Captain, were you not, Varangian?" Delam asked quietly as they strode through the wastes. The former Royal Guard had been an unknown. His report was foggy at best, and even those who had come with him knew little of him. The fallen Emperor they had served - a usurper that gave up his throne as soon as he'd taken it - had sent these warriors to the legion so that they might live. The High Lord's advisers, in their eternal mercy, had allowed them in alongside a number of their lesser warriors. Delam had dragged Aelius into his personal retinue to test him.

He followed after Laman as he breached one of the warehouses. Laman was a skilled warrior and generally knew what he was doing. The High Lord trusted that he would take care of himself in his exploration.

Then things changed.

The first blaster bolt caught one of the guardsmen in the chest. He was dead before he hit the ground. The men still outside ran for cover. Fire from slugthrowers and more conventional weapons peppered the ground. Warriors, both human and not, covered in tribal tattoos and war-paint charged with melee weapons held high.

"Ambush!" Delam boomed, "Find cover brothers! Establish a firing line!"

His thought went to Laman and the men who had breached the building alongside him. As Delam fell down behind an overturned crate and pumped one of the savages full of mass-accelerated rounds, he cursed. Could there be more within?

[member="Laman Ress"], [member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

"Yes." Aelius replied simply to the High Lord. It appeared at the moment, the former Royal Guard was not talkative.

Aelius followed the two heavily armored men into the breached warehouse. Narrowed to slits, his eyes peered through the visor over every box, every spider webbed crook in the 'abandoned' warehouse. The ex Royal Guard's soldier senses were tingling. As many men had often said immediately before being massacred in an ambush, Aelius had a bad feeling about this.

Almost a nano-second later, the force within Aelius cried out it's warning; with the Royal Guard instinctively throwing himself to the side. A blaster bolt sizzled through the stale air where his head was but a moment prior. Some things never change. Aelius twirled out his force pike, activating it's electrical current and vibro generator with a flick of the thumb. The Royal Guard sprinted towards a stack of thick boxes for cover, whirling and deflecting slugs and other primitive weapons.

"Orders?"

[member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Acaleus Thorn]

Acaleus was crawling through the ceiling like a spider. He saw the slugthrower and the user on the floor. He knew that the force could be molded through his will "Acaleus Thorn in enemy back lines. Stop firing idiots" said using the radio in his ear to communicate to the leader. The investigation of the cult lead him here but he didnt know of the appereance of Techno Union soldiers here. He stopped using the force in his hands to stick himself to the ceiling and fall, gathering force again. His feet touched the floor without making a sound, but he crawled to go unnoticed.

The first take down was easy, a normal soldier using a wall for cover. The light in his eyes banished as his body felt. With a quick movement he attacked the next close target "BREY STAND UP AND START SHOOTING!" ordered the leader or general, Acaleus didnt decided what could be the name for the next lifeless body he was gonna lay on the floor. With a quick jump, the neck of that soldier was cut, but a pair of grenades took his attention for a moment "Explode thing inside a mine. Not a great idea" thought began running to the slughthrower soldier. The assassin raised his two hands and force pushed or kill everything that prevented him to reach his target.

That soldier didnt knew why he was flying in the air, away from his gun which he was grabbing just a second ago. His eyes turned down to see yellow glowing eyes staring at him, a little down and two lightsaber, white and black, piercing his chest "Enter now!"

[member="Delam Mairev"] [member="Delam Mairev"] [member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Laman Ress]

Laman heard footsteps behind him, he quickly turned around and identified them as threats. He took cover quickly before the gunfire started, they had blasters. Laman started firing on the opponents, taking one out almost immedietly, the other was more resistant to being killed. Laman fired upon the enemy, and after a long drawn out struggle, killed him.

He then heard a strange voice over the radio, it was not a voice he recognized, not one he knew well, at least. Apparently he was Acaleus Thorn, and he was apparently with them, that was a good thing, if he had the encryption and the frequency to access the comms, he was probably friendly, but he didn't respond he would wait for the high lord to respond.

Laman quickly accessed a nearby terminal, and checked the registry, he found that there was a lot of phrik near the bottom of the mine, probably down there for security purposes, so they would have to go down.

"High lord i found where they keep the phrik, it is in a warehouse near the bottom." He said

Laman walked back outside to assist them in their battle, and started firing to support his comrades.
[member="Acaleus Thorn"]
[member="Aelius Varangian"]
[member="Delam Mairev"]