Warband Auxiliary Army

Sacks was fine except for his broken nose. He had been terrified that the sailor would take him to some evil ritual, or that he would become the main course at some important person's banquet.

But the sailor only took him to the shower room, let him take a hot bath, and gave him a clean set of silver-grey clothes to change into.

Finally, the sailor removed the handcuffs and herded him into a bright cabin. The cabin looked a lot like an interrogation room, with only a table and a chair. But there was food on the table. Sacks approached to look, finding a loaf of bread, a bottle of Amasec, and a fragrant roasted meat steak. The greasy aroma drifted into his nose through the air, reminding him that he had missed today's Protein Block.

This was clearly left for him, and besides, he hadn't eaten normal food in a long time. So Sacks plucked up his courage, sat down, picked up the knife and fork beside him, and began cutting the steak. When he took the first bite, the meat juice spread across his mouth along with the fat. He no longer cared whether this was human meat or not. After all, Protein Block was just another form; its essence hadn't changed. He unscrewed the Amasec beside him and took a big gulp. The spicy, pungent liquid awakened his taste buds. Soothed by the accompanying wine and food, Sacks felt he had temporarily escaped that hell of the lower decks.

Just then, the automatic door opened. Heavy footsteps came from behind Sacks. A silver figure, nearly 2.4 meters tall, walked around the dining table and stood before Sacks.

A low voice came from the communication grille of the Mk. III Iron Armour.

"Tasty?"

Sacks had a piece of bread stuck in his throat and could only nod frantically, afraid that a slow answer would anger the Astartes.

"Don't worry. This is a kind of animal called a Great Boar, an Old Terra creature that is extinct on Terra. Colonists from the Old Night brought this creature to this planet and preserved it. They are ferocious beasts that like to destroy farmland and grape trellises. The planet's inhabitants detest them."

Changing the subject, Peter asked:

"Captain Sacks, do you know why I called you here?"

"My lord, I... I can probably guess."

There was nothing special about him, except that he had been a soldier.

"Captain Sacks, former commander of the 2nd Battalion, 4th Infantry Regiment, 'Sallaeh Sentry' of the Mortal Auxiliary. Or now you all call it the Astra Militarum."

"Yes, my lord. That's what it says in the Departmento Munitorum documents."

Peter continued coldly:

"Captain Sacks, there is a huge stain on your military record. You surrendered and were captured. However, considering this is the prerequisite for our meeting, I have no choice but to temporarily ignore this stain. You may continue eating, provided it does not affect your ability to listen to what I say next."

He didn't dare touch the food again. As far as he knew, the Iron Warriors didn't have a good temper.

"Sacks, you are the highest-ranking person on this ship besides the sailor, and it's not a Planetary Defense Force rank. That's a plus. You've been to military academy and have seen real combat. Although you lost, you at least have experience. Now you have two choices before you. One: train new recruits for me alongside a group of people in a similar situation to yours, and then command them in battle. Two: finish this steak and go back to the lower decks."

Sacks was certainly afraid of going back to the lower decks. It was precisely because he was a coward who feared death that he had been captured. Having made his decision, he tried hard to recall what he had learned at the academy and inquired about the situation:

"My lord, what about the unit's equipment and supplies? What are the enemy's numbers and capabilities?"

"Good. It seems you're already getting into the swing of things."

Peter reached behind his waist, took out a Dataslate, and handed it over.

"You'll have about 30,000 new recruits. Later, you can conscript from the conquered areas. They aren't completely green; at least they've received local military training. Most wear bronze and iron armour, use bows, wooden shields, and spears. The enemy is probably at that level too. I order you to occupy at least this continent within half a Terran year."

Listening to the order, Sacks thought, "He didn't mention the punishment for failure." Of course, it was more likely unnecessary. After all, he didn't need a reason to kill him.

"I will provide a small amount of Flak Armour, Autoguns, Laser Guns, and Frag Grenades, plus one Aquila Shuttle for air support. No armoured vehicles or artillery. More specific information is on the Dataslate."

After waiting for Sacks to finish reading the information on the Dataslate, Peter said:

"Any questions?"

"No, my lord."

Actually, there were a ton of problems: insufficient training, too few experienced officers, a severe shortage of weapons and ammunition, and the lower-ranking soldiers couldn't even speak Gothian. But he didn't dare raise objections. After all, the Departmento Munitorum could push them once an hour, even curse at them. Everyone was pushing, many were cursing. They were used to it. But this Astartes wasn't so easy to talk to.

"Good."

The Astartes turned and left the cabin. Sacks then noticed that this Astartes didn't seem to be a member of the Iron Warriors. His Power Armour was still mainly silver-grey, but it lacked the yellow stripes. More importantly, the eight-pointed star iron mask on his left shoulder guard was gone, replaced by a silver kite shield wrapped in crimson flames.

After Peter left, Sacks tilted his head back and drained the remaining Amasec. He decided to finish the steak and bread, then go meet his future subordinates. "God-Emperor protect!" He prayed that those prisoners would be a little better than this coward.

City-State of Nopé. The city-state's residents had recently been able to see a Silver Eagle soaring in the sky. Every time the eagle landed, a new group of faces would appear in the city-state. These people had hollow eyes, numb expressions, and even spoke some strange languages. They looked like refugees who had lost their city-state.

The warband's only two Avior Barges had not stopped for a moment during this time. The pilots were now working in two shifts. The warband was orderly transporting slaves from the lower decks to the ground. Although the Blackrock was short on crew and sailors, the lower decks were severely overcrowded with slaves. The two were not contradictory.

These slaves were all deliberately stuffed onto the ship by Peter before he left the Legion. This caused the lower decks to be directly overloaded by 300%. Fortunately, the slaughter and consumption during the journey had slightly alleviated the pressure.

Peter did this to take away a knowledgeable population. Of course, he didn't expect to find engineers or Tech-priests among these slaves. But at least many of them came from civilized worlds. They at least knew what a gun was, what electricity was, and what Promethium was. Don't underestimate these trivial pieces of knowledge. The Great Crusade's experience told them that barbarians easily attributed things they couldn't understand to gods. For the warband to develop this world, they couldn't waste time on small issues like pi, displacement, or the periodic table of elements.

In the future, he would plunder more populations to fill the world. Whether for conscription, establishing auxiliary forces, or building factories, they all needed people. Perhaps this world would be overpopulated in the future, but the current problem was underpopulation.