My hands bleed from the shackles that lock them. My legs ache from the miles I have walked. My back stings from the lash of that damned whip. I'm an Imperial Guard Minesweeper, it's been a while since they've called for us. Can they at least give us some slippers for our bare-feet, damn it?
I stood in the small, cramped, dark space of the shuttle alongside my 'colleagues' with our shackles chained together. An armed Guardsman stood on watch as we felt the shuttle land on solid ground.
What do Minesweepers do? Well, that's an easy question. We're basically men picked from the murky shit cells of Prison from hive worlds that are sent to the battlefield to well... sweep mines in minefields (of course, even if they had things like Plasma guns, I'm sure they're just too poor afford proper equipment, but heck, life is cheap in the Imperium. Really cheap).
"Open the bay doors!" barked the Guardsman.
The double-doors hummed a loud noise as they opened. Light stung the eyes of those that got too used to the darkness of their cells, thinking they would live long. They were wrong.
Me? No, I was fine. I was used to the sun. For the past few working days, I've always been at the back of the group. Not today. Now, I was in the 3rd row (Rule of 3). We slowly marched onto the hot sand that burned our feet as we walked a slow and shackled pace, the sun beating down on us.
I could hear some squirming and crying, pleading that they did nothing wrong. Yeah? So what? This is the bloody Imperium of Man; the punishment for murder is the same as stealing from the Church's frakkin' donation basket.
But I was one of the few that didn't get here by loitering or some crap like that; I got here because I tried stealing weapons for myself because Chaos scouts were reported to be walking around my place and were predicted to kill us all.
Bloody cops caught me red-handed and I cursed them all as when I got thrown into a transport truck. Although I did laugh a bit when I heard the place did get overrun a few days after I got caught.
An explosion ruins my train of thought. Didn't even notice the fact that one of use had done their job and triggered a mine, I only noticed when his guts showered on us like rain. Damn, it felt disgusting, vomit-inducing, and he smelled bad.
A few more triggered mines, but we kept our pace. If we run back, we get shot in the head by a Lasgun.
I hear the firing of a Lasgun from the back of the crowd. See my point?
Hell, I wish this would be over soon. The sun is killing me and I need a shower.
I felt my feet step on something mechanical. Finally, I get to be with the Emperor.