Chapter 57(orphan)
The Space Marine Captains, Captain Francis Milat of the Angels of Brutality 3rd Company and Captain Bartholomew Gacy of the Marines Malevolent 5th Company, both sneered in contempt at Warden-Governor Lindsey Grassley as he whimpered in fear and pissed his pants.
Captain Francis Milat spat a glob of his acidic saliva onto the fat Warden-Governor's personal fine hardwood desk in his office. The spittle immediately burned a shallow crater into the wood, making the snivelling coward tremble with anxiety.
"Th-thank you for your timely arrival noble space marines, I-I th-thought I was doomed for sure until you arrived!" Warden-Governor Lindsey Grassley mewled pathetically.
"Find your balls before I remove them, pathetic coward," Captain Frances Milat rumbled at the fat craven, resisting with effort the urge to simply kill the maggot right now.
The smell of faeces suddenly wafted through the air, the coward had just shat himself!
The pair of Space Marine Captains exchanged a glance, and together as one they hurled the Warden-Governor's desk out of his office window in a shower of broken glass, the desk exploded into shards of broken wood when it hit the hard ground of the prison yard far below the Warden-Governor's tower.
For good measure they threw the rest of the office furniture out the window too.
The Warden-Governor was in a shamefully unmanned state now, crying like a little girl.
"Listen up fatso," Captain Frances Milat growled at the cowering shit factory, gripping him by the throat.
"You have the honour of serving the esteemed Space Marine Chapters of the Marines Malevolent and the Angels of Brutality, but if you prove unworthy of this honour we will throw you out that window to join your desk."
"We OWN your fat ass, you will put ALL of your troops and resources at our disposal, WITHOUT question."
The Warden-Governor squeaked with fright and agreed frantically.
"Good man, you might just live through this," Captain Frances Milat said with exaggerated cheer, letting go of his neck.
The Warden-Governor waddled off immediately to organise the transfer of all military assets to Space Marine control, and the two loyalist space marine captains filled in the time punching holes through his office walls with their fists as they waited for him to finish.
"It is done! You have complete command now!" The Warden-Governor whimpered a few moments later.
The pair of massive space marine captains nodded very slightly in acknowledgment, then simply left the office without another word, the Nightmare Asylum was due to arrive in a mere five hours and the pair had wasted enough time already.
Captain Frances Milat activated his vox ear bead, and gave the immediate planet wide order to conscript and arm every single one of the billions of convicts on the planet as new recruits for the penal legions.
The two Astartes captains strode arrogantly through the tower, ignoring the kneeling huddles of grovelling staff as they passed them by. The two captains were genetically and physically superior in every way to the inferior masses of ordinary humanity, the average human was barely worth their effort to even spit upon.
Between them the two captains commanded 500 loyalist space marines, consisting of 200 Marines Malevolent and 300 Angels of Brutality. In addition to this they had an Angels of Brutality battle barge, two Marines Malevolent strike cruisers, and 11 escort vessels between the two chapters.
The Nightmare Asylum was alone, with less than 300 Night Lords onboard. Intelligence indicated that the crew was injured and on the verge of a loyalist prisoner mutiny, with the holds weighing the ship down with millions of tons of gold.
In other words the Nightmare Asylum was at its most vulnerable and the spoils of victory would be absolutely enormous.
The vox buzzed, "Brother Captain Milat, the Inquisition has forbidden us from engaging the Nightmare Asylum with our current forces. They said that the heretics might defeat us and harvest our gene seeds to create additional chaos space marines."
"The Inquisition does not have the authority to command a space marine chapter's resources," Captain Milat dismissed impatiently in answer.
"The curs show their arrogance today brother," Captain Bartholomew Gacy sneered.
Captain Milat nodded sagely, once again the merely human Inquisition were trying to command their betters, the arrogant maggots!
Captain Milat of the Angels of Brutality and Captain Gacy of the Marines Malevolent had fought together in many battles over the years. The Angels of Brutality and the Marines Malevolent were not well liked by most of the loyalist chapters, the average chapter master wouldn't even give either chapter the time of day in fact!
Unfairly reviled by all others for daring to acknowledge the obvious superiority of Astartes over humans, the two pariah chapters had been forced to work together for mutual support, forming a permanent loose alliance.
The other loyalist chapters were fools for not rushing to this penal planet to win the glory of defeating the Night Lords, pathetic lapdogs of the Inquisition, refusing to fight until the Imperial Navy could deploy their full force in a combined ambush!
Had the Marines Malevolent and Angels of Brutality not "disobeyed" then this entire planet would have fallen to chaos!
"The gold! Enough to supply both our chapters with funding for decades! All of it ours alone brother!" Captain Milat reminded Captain Gacy smugly.
"Yes brother! No longer will the curs be able to threaten to cut off our funding for our so called "abuses"!" Captain Gacy laughed nastily.
The pair of Captains strode out of the tower, and entered the fenced off walkway that separated the staff sections from the prison yard.
The prison yard was now being filled with sweaty half naked convicts, and guards were handing crude aluminium lasguns out to the convicts, arming them for the coming conflict with the Night Lords. The Night Lords wanted slaves, but they would have a hard time getting them when they were all armed like this.
Some of the convicts immediately shot some of the guards with their new lasguns, and the perpetrators necks swiftly exploded in fountains of blasted gore in punishment. The Space Marines simply ignored this infighting among the inferiors, their lives were so worthless that a few thousand deaths meant nothing.
The marines strode through the prison complex, having gates and locked doors opened for them by bowing guards along the way, and entered the massive prison spaceport, striding towards a waiting dark scab scarlet Angels of Brutality thunderhawk gunship.
The thunderhawk took off for orbit as soon as the captains entered, completely ignoring local air traffic control, and tore upwards with savage G force towards the orbiting Angels of Brutality battle barge the "Blood Oceans".
The marine captains said little to each other as they ascended to orbit, busily voxing their various forces with orders. In just 5 hours time this entire planet had to be ready to fight.
***...
The mood was grim as convicts set up sand bags and dug trenches all around every complex or asset on the planet. Everything was a potential target, every prison, every tower, every mine, every train station, every bridge over rough terrain, every tunnel, every work camp and stockpile and airstrip and depot. No one knew for sure what would be attacked, so every conceivable target was being manned and fortified by the hastily assembled new penal legions.
The red lights on the explosive collar bombs around every neck twinkled merrily in the infernal heat outside, brutally hot sunlight shining off sweaty skin and the bright silvery surfaces of the raw unpainted aluminium of the cheap and nasty mass produced lasguns. The men had no armour of any kind, some were even completely naked in fact, and their morale was almost nonexistent if not for the fear of the collar bombs.
The penal legionaries had no hope at all in their hearts, win or lose it didn't matter. Either they died today or they died very soon after, either from the guards or the work or being sent off to other war zones. They certainly wouldn't be thanked or rewarded if they won any imminent battles, they wouldn't be memorialised no matter how they fought, would not ever get to take off these collar bombs or escape from the constant abuse.
One particular band of legionaries was wretchedly sweating as they dug deep trenches in the scorching hot dust, muscles aching as they strained in the heat to penetrate the stubbornly hard ground, crude aluminium shovels screeching as they hit buried rocks.
800 legionaries were in this sweaty band, with 20 guards watching them and screaming abuse. The guards detonated a head every few minutes just to keep the legionaries working themselves to death, and a few men fell down dead from heat exhaustion in the blistering heat.
The band was being worked to death fortifying a position of such low strategic value that the Night Lords almost certainly wouldn't bother with it. The position was an extremely minor train station, on a line of tracks that led only to an almost depleted open cut mine that was barely operational any more. Even if the Night Lords had unlimited military manpower, this position would not be worth attacking until after the entire rest of the planet fell.
The guards didn't seem to care how futile this was, and just kept forcing the convicts to extinguish their lives creating defences for something not worth defending in the first place. It made the convicts seem so completely dehumanised, their lives meant so little to the Imperium that they could be worked to death just to do non-jobs!
The trenches and sandbags rapidly took shape around the minor train station, and the guards demanded extra lines of unnecessary defences "just in case", causing dozens of additional men to drop down dead in the heat!
"5 minutes till the heretics arrive!" An announcement warned from crude horn shaped speakers on the top of a tall pole above the station platform.
The guards all cursed fearfully and savagely ordered the surviving legionaries to take up defensive positions in the trenches and behind sandbags, as the guards themselves retreated into the heavily fortified small air conditioned train station building, letting the legionaries die facing any enemies as the guards hid safely in the back.
The convicts were almost dead from heat exhaustion, and held their pathetic lasguns in shaking hands as they trembled with hot exhaustion. Even their sweat was running dry now, and they desperately drank hot filthy water from canteen flasks they had been issued. Their bare skin was blood red from sunburn in the hellishly intense sunlight, and nothing more than their numbers made this large group of half dead men worth anything at all in a fight.
"The Nightmare Asylum has arrived in orbit! Repeat, the Nightmare Asylum has arrived in orbit!" The pole speakers blared.
The legionaries all moaned in dismay, and squinted up at the sky. They saw nothing but bright sky, nothing up there was visible.
Long minutes passed, and a few more men dropped dead in the heat, but absolutely nothing else was happening. As predicted, the Night Lords clearly had no interest in this train station.
The pole gave regular updates, a furious battle was happening up in orbit it informed them.
The Night Lords were focused on the battle in orbit, hadn't landed on the planet yet.
30 minutes passed, the orbital battle was still going on, the space marine ships were putting up a hell of a fight.
The pole speakers suddenly went weird.
"Warning! Cyber attack! Cogitator virus detec..." The speakers warned and went silent mid sentence.
The pole speakers powered up again, and an impossibly seductive female voice with a strange accent spoke through the speakers! The convicts had thought to never hear a woman's voice again, and some wept at the mere sound.
"Greetings yummy convict men, my name is Dr Brand Sevenson, hacker extraordinaire, and I now have complete control of the prison cogitators after a lengthy hacking process. Let me just remove those silly collars from your necks," the female voice purred provocatively.
The collar bombs around every single neck beeped loudly, and the red lights turned green!
The collars all made a loud mechanical "click" and fell away from their necks, unlocked and deactivated!
The convicts all cheered so loudly that they went hoarse! The collars were GONE!
"Now sexy convict men, you have a choice, you can fight us and be returned to those collars if you win, or you could join us and escape this planet with your lives. We have many thousands of horny horny HORNY women who crave your cocks inside us, come and fuck us. Oh and, feel free to kill those prison guards, perhaps a bit of revenge rape might be fun..."
The convicts looked at each other, and then all turned to face the guards cowering in the train station.
The legionaries surged vindictively forward into the train station.
The guards inside were all desperately pushing on their detonation remotes, half insane with terror.
The convicts basked in the cool air conditioning as they entered, and grinned maniacally at the guards.
The guards screamed and fired their weapons at the convicts, killing a few.
The convicts fired back, killing about half of the guards and wounding the rest. It was a damn shame that some had died so quickly without suffering!
The convicts fell upon the surviving wounded, it was time for a bit of rape...
***...
