The Protoss in Warhammer

Chapter 551 539. The General's White Hair and Tears of Soldiers

The navy has already understood who the glory of this war is for, not to mention the Astra Militarum.

These brave Imperial Guards have sacrificed thousands of lives on the ground every time, and every battle in the trenches and alleys is fought by them, but every time after the war, what they can get is really very little.

For them, the greatest glory and reward they can get is not the planets and titles advertised in the propaganda, but to be able to survive, and it would be even better if they can return to their hometown with a little money.

The generals also understand these things. In the eyes of those inquisitors and Astartes, the generals who command tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of people on the battlefield are usually worthy of sacrifice. Except for some generals with very strong backing, in fact, for them, war is also a ruthless challenge. In a sense, when they face the mood of war, most of them are not much different from ordinary soldiers.

So a comfortable enjoyment before the war is essential. All the regular Star Army Corps received war allowances and subsidies. They can get war allowances and subsidies in the Chaodu event under their feet, and enjoy themselves on the planet under their feet, have fun and numb themselves.

Perhaps some soldiers are still willing to stay on their warship beds and quietly wait for the war to come, wanting to save this money, but more people are still willing to come to the planet under their feet and spend all their money. After all, how many people can come back after each expedition of the empire? If you don't spend the money now, you will have nothing to spend in the future.

Of course, these people are still lucky in a sense, because they still have the last time to enjoy before the war, and the most tragic ones are not the Imperial Guards who will face possible death, nor the Imperial Navy who has no way to get glory, but those conscripted civilian workers.

"Hurry up and move! These goods must be transported up immediately!"

On the dock of the spaceport, a naked warlord waved a whip with a barbed hook in his hand, whipping the men, women, and children who were transporting the goods manually below. The people below were all wearing red, green, and blue prison uniforms. Beside these people, there were some lobotomized servitors transporting some huge goods. These goods were not so fragile and precious that these stupid wetware robots were enough to handle them.

But some more important or things that cannot be handled with care, such as some explosives and ammunition, some seeds and fresh vegetables preserved in glass, or the private belongings of those senior officers, must be carried by these ordinary civilian workers who were recruited.

Although the two are different in name, in essence, there is no difference between those imperial civilians who have suffered from severe malnutrition and those poor ghosts who have had their brains removed. The only difference is that the former are moving in the direction of the latter.

While these poor men, women, old and young were constantly carrying heavy goods, above their heads, the priests and fanatics of the Empire would make declarations. The priests in pure white robes loudly proclaimed the Emperor's feast, and the fanatics next to them frantically whipped themselves with whips soaked in salt water to show their loyalty.

The crazy and old priest, like a dying eagle, shouted at the top of his lungs

"Repent! You sinners! You are born guilty! Your life is destined to atone for the Emperor! And now, the great God-Emperor has given you this opportunity to serve this expedition! Serve the great victory of the Empire!"

The fanatics under the feet of the state priest whipped themselves all over with whips and bled, and they also frantically agreed with the priest's words. These people who have long been insane, screamed with their horrified faces

"Atonement, sinners!!"

"We are all guilty people!!"

Before every imperial expedition, the civilians in the world of the long march to the frontier of the empire must bear the war taxes, and if some families cannot afford such expensive war taxes, then they must pay the price.

According to the laws of the empire and the local world, they have violated hundreds of laws in the imperial war law and tax law. If they want to repay these taxes, they can only sell their labor to repay the debts that they may not be able to repay in their lifetime. Both men and women, young and old, need to do this.

For the empire, sometimes, relying solely on the civilian workers obtained by taxes is not enough. A few hundred million people are not enough to meet the needs of an expedition. At these times, prisoners are needed to transport more than a billion prisoners from those huge prison planets, but these laborers are not safe and may even rebel.

So, when the empire faces the need for large-scale labor, the best and most convenient way is to create a large number of criminals. For example, turning minor criminals into major criminals, and making people who have not committed any crime commit a crime that was just amended during the expedition, and then making these timid, cowardly and kind people join the expedition and serve the empire's manifest destiny.

In order to restart the Jericho expedition, the Empire directly recruited 2.4 billion civilian workers to prepare food, equipment and subsequent transportation for the expeditionary army. Six roaming merchant families and the local merchant ship association sent hundreds of cargo ships as an extra-staff fleet to be responsible for the war supplies during the expedition.

These resources raised are so huge that in the future it is very likely that a planet will be specially selected as a warehouse planet to distribute materials to support the battle of this expedition.

However, how to distribute these materials depends on the Empire Expeditionary Force Command, or what the commander wants to do.

If he is a capable person, or not so greedy, then all the materials will be well used, but if not, then the final result of the materials of the entire warehouse planet will only be that every noble who participated in the war or the noble who has interests will eat a mouthful of oil.

Of course, all this had nothing to do with the civilians who were recruited, or even with the real soldiers, because in this war, no matter who won or lost, they were just a group of consumables, a group of materials that were about to be or had been recycled in the eyes of the Mechanicus.

This was the norm of the Empire, and this was the norm of the entire galaxy.

As these numb people continued to carry the items, the Mandeville Point above their heads flashed purple light. When the priest looked up at the sky, his originally crazy face became even more crazy and pious.

After being immersed in shock and joy for a second or two, he shouted hoarsely

"Angels of the Emperor!! The Astartes have arrived!!"