1. Promises Broken

I've finally been deployed.

I stare at the floor of the shaking shuttle i sat in, reflecting on all my decisions and all the chance happenstance that led to this moment. Perhaps I was over confident, no matter what tech I augmented myself with, I couldn't escape something like an orbital bombing or a shuttle exploding from under me. It was worrying, one wrong turn just a few degrees off and the shuttle could become aquainted with an anti air shell. The mere presence of the ammunition was enough to spook me and everyone else in the shuttle though, because they should be pointed away from us.

On a planet of sepratist conflict, anti air is the last thing they should have. They have either succesfully raided a munition supply headed to a republic base, or gained the support of the empire. It was hopefully the former, else we might find a very quick defeat at the hands of unexpected overwhelming force.

I comforted myself with the thought of my progression in the past year I spent training. Everyday was tough to start, but after I finally gained access to the engineering corps assets, it all went up. I was a cyborg. A man of machine and flesh. Every week I spent in the engineering lab would earn me the money to pay for and develop my own tech, to augment my own body. It was a luxury I could only afford in the military, no where else would have the paycheck or access to everything I needed.

Along with the physical additions I have made, the pride of every cyborg, ive made quite a few mental ones. Including the ever useful data collection system. I poked at its hud switch in my brain, provoking it to turn on. A film of light blue covered the corner of my vision. It was the more advanced information, telling me more in less letters so i can make quick check up in the field. It was entirely challenging for someone to understand if they didn't know the acronyms, but not impossible to guess.

E.C.C, A (energy cell charger)

B.I.D, A (built in defibulator)

M.E, A (muscle enhancer)

A.A, IA (aim assist)

P.R, A (pain receptors)

D.C, IA (dopamine controller)

M.F, A (muscle fatigue)

D.S, IA (distress signal)

It was as short and sweet as I needed. More information was beside it as well, tightly pushed in to save space. A heartrate monitor, one for each of my hearts, both racing far faster than needed. It was almost alarming how much it was going.

I turned on my dopamine controllers. My heart rate quickly cooled down, and so did my nerves. It was an intense way to calm down about the situation, but it was fine when we flew above active warzone.

"Your heart rate has calmed abnormally, are you okay?"

The mechanical voice to my right spooked me. It was a droid, one brought along on the shuttle to deliver it to the base. Its make and model was clearly medical in purpose, very smooth plates and little exposed parts. I guess I worried it by forcing myself calm so quickly.

I stared up at it, my mechanized eyes perfectly adjusting to the dim light of the shuttle. It was not the only parts of metal visible on my face, but the droid seemed more suprised by them than anything else. It was unavoidable though, optics are expensive. For now they passed as a very advanced way to see, but looked like two metal eyepatches with a dot of red in a sea of black.

The droid was quick to notice I was okay, and not insane.

"It is good to see a Zabrak, your race only makes up 0.1% of the soldier population."

With its completely unrequired comment, it turned to moved back to its original position.

Boom

We were hit. The lights went out, then turned red just as abruptly. My ears rung and only registered the mumbling of the pilot over the comms. We were going down. The quick and intense shift in gravity almost pulled me out of my seat, throwing me against the straps of my seat belt and then back into the seat again. I gripped as tight as I could onto my assault cannon, hopeful it wouldnt fly off its magnetic lock and crack a skull open. My ears adjusted just enough to hear the command for brace.

I jolted awake. My heart rate was rapid, and my cybernetics worked with my body to restore equilibrium. A small message, alongside my hud, was active. It said, B.I.D charging. It was not one I was keen on seeing. I had died, or at the very least my heart stopped for long enough to activate it. I laid still in my position, trying not to panic about the circumstance. We were still minutes away from the base, and that meant far more than a few hours of walking. I had no idea what i was going to walk through either.

I turned on my distress signal. It should only be a few seconds before they get it, and a few minutes before they send help.

I heard feet touch down in the wet dirt infront of me. The movement of servos and hydrualics, clanking and functioning with aparent age. I kept my head foward, and stopped my chest from moving. The clear sound of gunshots and artillery fire, with explosions dotting the distance was enough to tell me I was closer to enemy territory than my own.

I was slumped up against something, so i was lucky enough to see. Three armoured and armed people. They were clearly the sepratists with their yellow, red, and baige colouration. Their weapons were scavenged, dirty standard issue blaster rifles with parts missing. I was only in an overcoat and trousers, so I was certainly not taking anything to the head and living. My assault cannon was gone, as well as the off-hand blaster I kept on my hip. A droid appear from behind the scattered wreck of the shuttle I was ejected out of. It was a spaceports' carrage walker. Its three legs, large grapsing arms and wide torso was perfect for carrying around the scrap of the wreck. It had a flat extension comming out of its back for piling on more bags. That is exactly what they had it doing, and the sight of my assault cannon on its top was like a star on the pile of ugly rubble. It was as large as my leg, so its no suprise one of them could not carry it or claim it as their own.

They were looking around the crash site, picking up random things and inspecting them. Sometimes they would ask each other about the usefulness of certain parts. Often times they would pass up on actually useful things, prefering the more important looking but completely useless item. It was obvious to me that they were not responsible for reprograming the walker droid, they were too tech illiterate.

As the walker continued to follow them, the condition of it was more apparent. Wires were exposed, plate was twisted and scarred with plasma burns, blood stains covered its grippers. Clearly they had been using it a metal shield and an impromtu bludgeoning body guard. Its back was worse, part of the core wiring was exposed to the world, only slightly covered by the the pile of scrap on its back.

I had no weapon, and the ones the seperatists held would do more damage then he could hold on with. There was no reason to go beyond the call of duty and stop them, it was an entirely risky choice. The weapons were of concern though, they already have anti air, more blasters will just give them another step up. Thankfully, there were plenty of blasters in the junk pile the droid carried.

I waited for my moment. As the three of them turned around I got up. They certainly were not alert for survivors, and probably thought I was dead. I snuck across the ground adeptly, I was born on my ancestoral hone world, Iridonia, there was not a chance they would hear me. The droid may have been reprogamed, but it wasnt built for detecting people. I was behind it in an instant, and it was just barely enough to cover my large frame.

I reached behind the pile of assorted scrap metal and blasters. When my hands grasped around the main wire I tugged, pulling it loose. The joints of the droid went completely stiff and froze in place.

I quickly grabbed at my assault cannon, pulling it off the top. In both my hands it was deadlier than any sepratist could manage. My fingers toyed at the trigger, before the three could turn around I activated something through my hud.

The ammo gauge on the top of the assualt cannon began to creep up to full. As my energy cell charger worked, I grew hungier and more tired. My adrenaline pumped, and I clicked the trigger near my left hand.

Aim assist wasnt needed, as an explosive round from the barrel of the cannon shot out. The few meters were crossed in half a second, crashing into the ground between them. They scattered apart from the force of the blast. All three of them were knocked off their feet, dropping their weapons aside.

I did not put down my guard, there could be more and they could still be concious. The energy cell of the assault cannon went down to 40%. I could shoot 40 rounds, or 4 more explosive ones. I moved to the nearest blaster one of the sepratists dropped. It was loaded with a full energy cell. I kicked it away and scanned the man with my eyes. He was unconcious, but alive and very hurt.

Keeping my left hand on the handle in the middle of the cannon, I used my right to pick up the rifle. Keeping it pointed at the other two, who I began to scan, I activated my energy cell charger again. The cell of the rifle quickly emptied, and my assault cannon filled up.

Neither of the other two were concious, one was dead. I quickly left, heading toward the base I should have landed at.

Thats when I noticed the anti air, the cause of this crash landing. It was a group of people stationed upon a higher ridge. They pointed tracking explosive launchers at the sky, looking for another target. Them, and an anti air turret installment, too far from the base, was maned by seperatists and pointing toward vessels in orbit. The situation was worse than when they were briefed. I knew they wouldnt have done that on purpose, so clearly shit hit the fan in the time I was headed here.

I watched as numerous ships passed overhead, cargo, residential, military, they were all fired at like they were the same. It boiled my blood and pissed me off.

If I did not get rid of them, many would die, just like the dozen soldiers that were in the shuttle with me. To make things worse, if I tried to walk toward the base, I would certainly be spotted and shot at. My only choices were, the small outpost they made with the anti air turret, or their base inside the town we passed over.

I looked around me, there was very little to help my situation. Other than three cells of ammunition, which filled up my cannon with two left over, I had two grenades and a single stim that survived the crash.

Improvising, I looked at the droid. Going behind it and scanning it with my eyes, I tried to garner a sense for its parts. It was designed for carrying a bunch of luggage, not fighting. The plates were thin, mass produced, and ugly. The wires were a mess and unorganised. And the coding was likely very simple and very weak. I remotely connected to it, my brain acting like a datapad, supported by the many cybernetics across my body. At the same time, I reconnected the power supply.

A firewall came up, but I easily broke it. This part of me had been with me since birth, my guilty concious was the only thing stopping me from making a career out of hacking droids and fencing them. When the firewall went down, my control went up. The droid calibrated, and some of the luggage it carried fell off. Without a verbal command, it turned and walked toward the anti air installation.

Getting there was easy, using the large droid as cover was enough to block me from anyone walking outside the wall of the sepratist base. That, and the large rock wall to my other side ensured I wasnt completely exposed. As we came up the sloped earth leading to the installment, I readied myself.

The droid walked up while I hid behind a thick tree. I controlled it with my head, seeing through its eyes on my hud. It walked toward the munition supply of explosive payloads. The very thing that shot my shuttle down was likely from one of these very containers. Beside them were the users, they carried the launchers as large as my cannon on their shoulders. The droid was mostly ignored, recieveing no more than a few odd looks. Clearly they were accustomed to seeing them.

The droid stopped between the users of the launchers and the containers of munition. The sepratists stopped and looked. A beeping sound started, and they heard their last.

The entire side of the camp went up in the explosion, cooking the air around them. There was a lucky few that werent caught up, they were in the tent opposite the containers. Another tent, right next to the stash, lit on fire and was half caught in the explosion. The only people still standing came out of the unaffected tent, armed. They were very flustered and shocked at the once intact camp in flames. There was less to scavenge and scrap than at the crashed shuttle.

I moved from behind the tree and my assault cannon unleashed. Every cybernetic I had was in the best state to support me. My muscle enhancers prevented my arms from shaking at the recoil, my aim assist ensured I hit every shot at this distance, my muscle fatigue and pain receptors were gone, turned off. My body shutting down would be the only thing to prevent me from accomplishing this.

Three green bolts shot at rapid speed into the chest of the first sepratist. I adjusted quickly, and the trigger was pulled again. Another went down, then another. One collected themselves, they pointed their rifle in my direction and sprayed red plasma in my direction. My leg and right arm felt warm, but I felt no pain. They were the next to go down, and the other two scattered for cover. I fired an explosive round, catching one in the leg, and causing the other to trip in fear. They turned back, looking at me walk toward them.

Their surrender was obvious, and they were unarmed, killing them would be a war crime. They just looked at me in horror as I pointed my barrel at them. It was a woman, I could tell as I got closer, as the shape of breasts were visible from her leather uniform. They didnt seem young, but with her helmet it was impossible to tell.

Without any cuffs, I turned my safety on and placed my assault cannon on her chest. She struggled to breathe, but certainly would not suffocate. She wasnt built for war, at all. And with the cannon that was the size of half her body, and far more dense, she was basically locked in place. I kicked any remaining weapons into the fire after taking the cells for my self, then head to the tent. The inside of the intact tent was simple, it wasnt quite a barracks, but clearly could function as one. Mainly, it housed two crate sized batteries, wires led to the anti air turret outside. More of them led to a chaired control station for the very same turret. I left it for latter and picked up a pair of cuffs from a tablr nearby, also sporting an ongoing game of sabacc.

When I got outside, I was tackled. Almost. In reality, the small woman that was previously stuck under my cannon was struggling to breath after putting too much arm into her tackle. Her ribs probably felt terrible too, so I simply attached the cuff to one wrist, then the metal posting of the tent. I went to my cannon, seeing that it was in the same spot and orientation I left it. It was like she simply disappeared from under it. Thankfully though, she had no chance of picking it up or figuring out the code to turn the safety off, only I knew that. I picked it up, ensuring its safety.

With her dealt with, I took out the stim, ejecting it into my shoulder. My pain was still turned off, but I knew the wounds were not magically healed by that. As my body worked with the stim to heal my wounds, I head back into the tent. As long as anti air was controlled by the sepratists, there would be many more casualties than there could be. My evac might also be in danger of they decide to send another shuttle, thought they likey know full well that the air space isnt entirely in their control anymore.

Sitting down at the chair, I analysed the screens. One of the three were showing the current ships in orbit, a series of dots marked as either enemy or ally. I was shocked they had orbital support, escpecially since the situation when we arrived in orbit a few hours ago was entirely relaxed. If they did have an orbital craft, why didnt we pick up on it? The next monitor was a local map with non orbital crafts, including a grey one that I used to be on. Then the last, communications and instructions.

I head outside, more than hopeful that my current thoughts were only superstition backed up by anxiety. The tent on the other side of the camp had mostly burnt out completely. Apparently the material was mostly fire retardent.

I picked up the fabric, swooshing it to the side and revealing what was underneath. A pitch black munitions container, marked with the white symbol of the empire. Unfortunately, I was correct. The empire has broken the treaty.