Rebellion!
26 Aug 2024Haraldsen
On the desolate industrial world of Thalax IV, the air was thick with the acrid scent of burning vehicles and the distant echoes of chaos. The remote planet, ruled by an autocratic governor of the Imperium, had become a haven for discontent and unrest. The massive assembly lines, once the lifeblood of Thalax IV that had produced countless ships for the Imperium, now stood still as symbols of oppression and exploitation.The workers, clad in grimy overalls and wielding makeshift or looted weapons, surged through the streets of the capital, Thalax Prime. Their faces were hardened by years of toil and their eyes burned with a newfound determination. Among the throng, a number of banners emblazoned with the sigil of the NMLA fluttered defiantly in the smoky air. The local governor, once installed by the Imperium, had long ignored the plight of the workers. But today, the workers had had enough. They stormed the governor’s palace, their chants echoing off the steel walls protectively surrounding it. “Freedom for Thalax! Down with the tyrants!”
Rumors had spread like wildfire that the NMLA, the notorious anti-Imperial faction, which was considered defeated and dissolved, had infiltrated the workers’ movement. Whispers of their influence were on everyone’s lips, and the sight of their banners only fueled the speculation. Whether the NMLA had truly orchestrated the uprising or merely capitalized on the workers’ anger, one thing was clear: Thalax IV was in open rebellion.
As the sun dipped below the smog-laden horizon, the workers stood triumphantly amidst the ruins of the governor’s palace. Most of the imperial troops had surrendered as the workers advanced in earnest, many having relatives among the rioters. With the governor’s beheading, a moment of peace returned to Thalax IV. The Imperium would not take this lightly, and the workers knew that their fight was far from over. But for now, they reveled in their hard-won freedom, their cries of victory mingling with the distant rumble of restarting industrial machinery. The assembly lines, once dedicated to the Imperium’s war machine, roared back to life, now producing their first ship for the NMLA.
A majestic carrier, its ID transmission deliberately silenced, emerged from the near reaches of the planet. This venerable vessel, once a paragon of engineering, now bore the scars of time and conflict, urgently requiring restoration. Though Thalax IV's facilities were not designed to accommodate such a colossal craft, its resources and repair drones held promise. As soon as whispers of the governor’s downfall had been confirmed, the carrier had stirred. Emerging slowly from the planet’s shadow, it glided towards the station in orbit. The sun’s rays, tenderly embracing its superstructure, bathed the ship in a resplendent glow, unveiling its name written in bold, crimsonred letters. It read:
John Tyburn
The communication channel of the space station came to life. Accompanied by applause and cheers, a woman’s voice could be heard. “Welcome to your new home, friends. Approach as closely as possible and prepare for a wave of volunteers eager to assist in getting the ship ready for action. Cassia Verda, signing off.”