2

The next few days passed in a blur of new sights. The trial had concluded after the commissar's whispered words and Riff had been pushed and shoved ahead of a couple of PDF goons. Dragged into the street and unnecessarily thrown onto the cobble stone, the two goons picked up Riff by the arms and prodded him into the back of a massive tracked vehicle. The telltale symbol of the Adeptus Arbites was painted on the inside of the vehicle. The stench brought stinging tears to Riffs eyes. Other prisoners had been packed together in the back compartment that could probably house around one crew of Arbites. The number of prisoners in the compartment was at least twice that. The vehicle had obviously been converted for prisoner transport. The prisoners were packed tight into the space, barely enough room between them to pivot. Each convict was chained to the next, shackles clapped around their wrists. The prisoners made use of the momentary freedom from their confinement to put some space in between one another before the two goons brought their truncheons down, forcing them back into the smelly compartment. Riff stepped hesitantly into the compartment after the goons made a show of waving their truncheons. A burly man came around the vehicle, dressed in the common black fatigues of the Arbites, and clamped a set of shackles around Riffs wrists before fishing a key out of his pocket and locking them. The armored doors to the compartment closed and the horrible stench of a dozen or so criminals thickened.

Light filtered through slits covered by cold steel bars. Riff deduced that the slits were probably so the Adeptus Arbites could have some crowd control before the vehicle had been converted to prison transport. Hours passed as the vehicle rattled and shook and the only thing keeping Riff from upchucking was the fact that the convict in front of him would likely bludgeon him to death with his shackles. The criminals in the compartment sure looked the part. Stains and tears covered their clothes and each and every one of them seemed to have some sort of facial hair. The only diversity offered was the occasional augmetic implant. An eye here, a couple of fingers over there. Riff glanced to his right and to his astonishment one even had his entire hand replaced.

The man was a little short compared to the others but none the less frightening. His pale skin was marred by thick pink scars, one of them stretched from his forehead down to his chin. The only sign of hair on his head were little black sprouts. His nose had obviously been broken in some kind of fight. Wherever they were going, Riff would be wary of him.

Riff heard the sounds of the bustling upper hive through the small slits and occasionally got glimpses of all sorts of people "oohing" and "aweing" at their transport. Hours of this went by when finally they came to a stop. The sounds had changed about an hour ago from the hustle and bustle of a hive to the humming and crashing of unseen machines. The armored doors clanged open to reveal what Riff had only heard in stories. They were in a space port. They were marched out by a stern looking group of Arbites. Each one cradled a lasgun, a laspistol strapped to their sides just for good measure. Two of the Arbites took front while two others retreated to the flank of the shambling line of prisoners. Riff gazed around in utter astonishment at the data banks and other machines of incomprehensible function before settling on the most breathtaking site of all. A massive transport shuttle was docked in the space ports landing bay. The cargo hold was open and hundreds of milling lines of prisoners were being shepherded in by an assortment of Imperial Guard and Adeptus Arbites.

A rabble of men and women in deep red robes were wandering around. Mechanical attachments sprouted from their shoulders and cogs dangled from necklaces. Riff looked away from the techpriests as soon as he realized what they were. He'd heard stories of the cogboys, as they were commonly called, and he had always found the idea of having your body replaced with that of a machine disturbing. They seemed to wander around at random, blessing machines and performing other rites of function. Riff returned his attention to the now remarkably close transport shuttle and saw, Written in bold white letters, the name of the ship was The Abyssal Spear. He could hardly believe it as the landing ramp clanged beneath his feet and he was marched aboard alongside hundreds of other prisoners.

It was an understatement to say that Riffs astonishment had evaporated as quickly as if it had been shot by a Melta. He and the other prisoners were unshackled at least but this was a small comfort. They criminals were herded into massive rooms that held one hundred prisoners each. Rusty cots fitted with moldy mattresses were the best anybody could hope for. As Riff was led through the ship he saw that some rooms had nothing but the floor and torn blankets. He blessed the Emperor for his small mercies when he was led into a room that was lined with cots, fifty to each side. As he stepped through the threshold he was yanked to the side by an Imperial Guard officer. The gruff and annoyed looking man slapped a collar around Riffs neck before shoving him forward and yanking over the next criminal in line. Riff marched to the end of the line of cots and took the least disgusting looking one he could find. He settled for one on the right side that only had an assortment of pinkish-orange stains compared to the one on the left that had one massive red stain. A voice suddenly crackled over the ships intercom system. Riff immediately recognized it as that of Commissar Abelard

"All imperial officers are to report to their respective quarters in preparation for launch. Collar scanners will be armed in three minutes. All prisoners must be under lock down by then." The intercom cut out and by then all of the prisoners had been herded into the room and fitted with the same thick grey collars. Riff wondered briefly if he'd be seeing the commissar at any point.

An hour or two passed as Riff sat and twiddled his thumbs before gazing around the room again. His eyes wandered for a bit before landing on something of interest. An augmetic hand dangled off the edge of a cot and sure enough it belonged to the same criminal Riff had seen in the vehicle. The intercom buzzed to life at that moment and Riff was prepared to ignore it as he had for the past two hours when the commissar reported useless information but this time was different.

"Prepare for launch." The commissar reported before signing off.

Almost immediately the ship began to vibrate as its engines thrummed to full power. Riff grabbed the edge of his cot and held on just in case the ride got bumpy. Who knows how many corners were cut when forging the hold for prisoners. His fears came true when the room lurched and rocked, throwing a couple of oblivious criminals from their cots and onto the floor. Riff held on for dear life as the room violently shook and juddered until finally, after fifteen minutes, the commotion ceased and once again the intercom buzzed to life.

"We have escaped orbit, prepare for warp jump when at sufficient distance." The commissar reported.

The other criminals seemed almost shell shocked by the experience. Riff couldn't blame them, for a moment it felt like the ship was going to come apart and they were going to be reduced to orbiting space waste. Riff glanced over to where the criminal with the augmetic hand rested outstretched on his cot wearing a nonchalant face bordering on boredom. Riff nearly gawked at the criminal who appeared singularly unfazed by the whole ordeal. The intercom buzzed and the familiar tone of the commissar once again spoke through it.

"Initiating warp jump."

What followed had to be the most frightening minutes of Riffs relatively short life. He thanked the emperor he couldn't see what was happening outside as the very sound of chaos screamed through the ship. Riff knew the crew wouldn't be stupid enough not to activate the warp shields but humans have a rather large capacity for error. The sound of the warp portal opening mixed with the angry swearing and shouting of the criminals as they covered their ears. No doubt the crew was sitting cozy up above while the prisoners below were subjected to the sound of the warp. It wasn't the warp that scared Riff the most, it was what lay waiting in it. He had heard the stories of entire systems consumed by the forces of The Great Enemy. Chaos cultists, Chaos Space Marines, and perhaps most unnerving was the thought of the innumerable fiends and daemons lurking in the warp.

The jump ended mercifully fast. A few criminals spilled their lunch across the floor and a couple others hid beneath their cot. Again, the criminal with the augmetic enhancement seemed bored with the whole ordeal. Something moved beneath Riffs bed and for a moment of pure terror he thought the warp shields had failed and some fiend had manifested itself right beneath him. His fear was dispelled when a head covered in scrubby brown hair peaked out from beneath.

"Are we safe?" The bed lurker looked up at Riff with two brown eyes wide open with terror. Riff shrugged off his confusion quickly enough and put on the tough gangster act he had honed to perfection.

"We won't be if you don't get the frak out from under my bed." The man squirmed out from beneath Riffs bed quickly and stood up. Riff was prepared for a fight. He'd been in plenty before, this would be no different. It was when the man started crying that Riff was caught off guard. It was then that Riff realized the bed lurker wasn't a man at all but a boy who looked barely over the age of sixteen. He calmed down and started talking in between sniffles.

"I-I'm s-sorry…I don't even know what the f-frakkin warp I'm doing here! I mean I o-only took the book for a we-week and I was gonna give it back but then th-these men showed up and shoved me into the back of a big car with a b-bunch of smelly criminals!" His outburst was starting to attract attention as some of the other criminals started staring. Riff knew he had to defuse the situation fast.

"Look, kid, sit down and shut up." That got him quiet enough, the kid immediately sat down on the end of his cot and quit sniffling. "Now, what's your name kid?" The boy looked at Riff fearfully for a moment before answering.

"Shem, my name is Shem." The boy answered cautiously.

"Alright Shem I'm going to need you to go back to your bed or things are going to get very bad for us very fast. Can you do that for me?" Shem nodded, stood up, and walked over to the cot right next to Riffs. Wonderful, Riff thought, I'm sleeping right next to a juvie.

This seemed to satisfy the other criminals who returned to the busy work of staring at the ceramite ceiling. Riff breathed an inward sigh of relief. He and that Shem kid had almost been singled out as the weakest. Riff looked over at Shem, who was shaking almost imperceptibly, and a few ideas sprang to mind. Wherever they were going after they arrived at Hell's Reach, you could bet it wasn't going to be the healthiest place for a person to be. Being in a penal legion made this fact a fair bit more dangerous. He was going to need as many bodies between himself and whatever they were going to be fighting. The criminals in the room were obviously going to be the company Riff was destined to serve, and likely die, with. Every body between him and the enemy was a little bit more protection for him. Shem could be useful. Riff, still staring at the ceramite above him, whispered to Shem.

"So, how did you get here?" Shem was at least smart enough to know not to roll over and face him because he was still looking at the ceiling when he spoke.

"I stole a book from a library." He paused as if to let the "severity" of his crime sink in. "How about you?" He asked boldly.

"Stabbed a PDF goon to death with a piece of glass." Shem quite visibly paled and for a moment Riff questioned the bluntness of the statement.

"Oh…well." Shem seemed at a loss for words.

"Yup, I was about to be executed but instead I got stuck here. Not sure if that's a good thing yet." No harm being honest with the kid, Riff thought. Shem seemed to think for a moment before speaking again.

"We're going to die aren't we?" The hollowness of Shem's voice told Riff the kid already knew the answer.

"Just a matter of when now that we're heading for a penal legion." Shem shuddered as he voiced his last two words. Riff couldn't blame him. They were being drafted into an army of glorified suicide soldiers. They were examples, made to show what happens when you break the laws the Emperor himself has laid out for humanity.

"Emperor protect us." Shem whispered. Riff gave a muffled "uh huh" before drifting off into a restless sleep filled with the laughter of bloodthirsty ethereal beings.