Sean-Michael Argo - Dead Worlds

Second time offenders were automatically detained and rotated into the Grotto penal system, which was comprised of several moons that orbited a number of planets in Grotto space. Massive prison complexes had been built into those moons, and served not only as detention facilities, but as forced labor camps. Some of the prison moons doubled as factories or refineries, and low security convicts would be able to work down their debts and sentence by working the machines.

Others were vast salvage yards where much of the materials procured by Reaper fleets ended up for final processing. Rumor had it that Penal Legions would be founded from these populations when Grotto needed a cheap military option for one purpose or another. The convicts would volunteer for duty in much the same way the Reapers did, with the hopes of the additional earnings helping pay down their debts and move them towards freedom.

Samuel had never seen a legionnaire, and stories of their military exploits were simple rumor and tall tales told in school. If his time in the Grotto military had been any indication of how non-elite military assets were treated, it made a great deal of sense why he’d never even heard of a retired legionnaire.

Warden Ingrid cleared her throat as she approached the podium, and the lights in the observatory dimmed somewhat to enhance the luminosity of the speaker. She began to brief the assembled Reapers on the technical specifications of the workstations, instructing them on how to toggle between each of the legionnaire’s shoulder cameras, in addition to maintaining communication and data-uplinks with the Line Wardens.

As Samuel made notes to himself on his personal data-pad, Ingrid explained that the Line Wardens were all combat veterans of one branch of the Grotto military or the other and functioned as the command structure for each of the legionnaire platoons.

Unlike the Reapers, the legionnaires did not work in squads, and only broke down as far as platoons, the size of which differed even from the Reaper definition. Each legionnaire would be issued a standard pattern combat rifle with one magazine pre-slotted and two spare magazines on graft mounts attached to the stock.

Samuel wondered what the legionnaires were supposed to do if they were forced into a protracted engagement. As Ingrid explained the harsh discipline exacted by the Line Wardens he realized that Grotto did not care.

The average marine rifleman loadout was easily twenty high capacity magazines, sometimes more if the individual marine was willing to deploy without a sidearm. If the legionnaires could not get clear of a fight with their three magazines it was deemed to be a state of diminishing returns to further supply the penal soldiers.

The Line Wardens were armed with a combat repeating shotgun utilizing a drum magazine so that they would not have to reload for a long while. The shotgun and the thirty round big bore auto-pistol on their hips were designed to be used on the legionnaires as much as the enemy.

The threat of being executed in the field kept the soldiers in line when they were deployed, and if it didn’t, the small remote explosive implanted in their necks that would detonate if they left the maximum set distance from the Line Warden’s command collar made sure that they did as they were told.

Ingrid assured them that the legionnaires were highly motivated soldiers, each of them having been signed to a contract that dramatically reduced their sentences and debts, giving them all a better chance at a modicum of freedom. Samuel had never met a rehabilitated convict who had come from a penal legion, and he was skeptical that anyone survived long enough to gain their freedom.

If the mortality rate of the Reapers were any indication, it was unlikely that any of the legionnaires would live to breathe free air. They were used as battle fodder, and though they were perfectly clear on that fact, there was always hope. Samuel felt a kind of kinship with the legionnaires in that moment. The mission clock chimed and the monitors flickered to life.

The legionnaires were already packed into their landing craft, and Samuel could watch through the shoulder cams as each of the convicts looked at each other, checked their weapons, and prepared for deployment. Samuel donned his headset and began to toggle between the cameras to get a feel for the system, and did a quick read of the Line Warden’s personnel file.

Line Warden Shoto was a former bondswoman who signed on with the legion during the founding, so this would be her first combat mission with the group. The mission clock chimed again and the landing craft’s engines ignited, sending a hailstorm of craft into the void above UK1326. The invasion had begun.

Making planetfall from orbit was always a dangerous affair in Samuel’s experience, even when not sailing through flak clouds and anti-air barrages. The refurbished craft that comprised the penal landing cadre were recycled transport haulers from old Hive Fleets, outfitted to carry human cargo and their meager provisions.

Of the many dozens that were launched into the void, four of the ships burned to slag in atmosphere, and as the squad leaders of those ships in the observatory stood to leave, Samuel considered that it had been a less costly infiltration than he was used to.

Samuel had never observed planetfall from orbit, having always been ‘in the can’ as the marines often called it, and it had been a thing of dark wonder. He mused at how many times other observers had watched with callous detachment as assault ships were thrown into battle.

Samuel’s platoon jostled in their seats from the gravitational force as they plummeted to the planet surface. Another two landing craft must have been destroyed on impact or otherwise had critical landing failures, as moments after Samuel’s platoon hit dirt two more squad leaders in the observatory stood and left the room.

The bay doors opened and Line Warden Shoto bellowed for the convicts to disembark. The legionnaires hit belt releases and as their boots crunched the gravel underfoot the shoulder cameras began to reveal cyclopean structures looming in the fog just beyond the landing zone. Shoto barked for the convicts to form up and the platoon moved forward as they assumed a human ‘v’ shape.

Shoto took up a position in the concave center of the formation, both to have a full view of the entire platoon, but also to have a clear arc of fire that would enable her to wipe out the platoon easily with her repeating shotgun. It was a brutally genius method of maintaining martial discipline while remaining combat effective. Samuel was impressed despite his misgivings about the injustice of the prison system itself.

Samuel noticed that the cloud cover of the sky extended all the way to the ground in a sort of swirling fog, and it was no wonder that the un-manned probes had such a difficult time piercing the gloom. It was only the low-tech cameras and the crude satellite signals being bounced up from the drop ships that made observation of the legion possible. According to radio chatter among the Reaper squad leaders, Samuel knew that there were dozens of platoons nearby, all pushing towards the distant skyline, though through the fog it was difficult to make a line of sight confirmation with more than one or two other platoons at a time.

The legionnaires made swift progress across the broken ground and soon began to enter the outskirts of the necropolis. Immediately, Samuel felt the knot in his stomach tighten as through the camera he saw the strange buildings emerge from the fog. He could not pinpoint what exactly was so disturbing about the buildings, which looked perfectly capable of use by humanoid beings, complete with doorways, windows, and seemingly interconnected streets and sidewalks meant for vehicular and pedestrian traffic.