oh c'mon guys! here's the next chapter, but no more go up until i get some feedback. other writers get feedback, why not me?
btw, did anyone notice that there was a NEW CHAPTER at the end of all that fic above???
CHAPTER 19
Snikkit hurried down the corridor. The Boss had called for him again. He waited outside the office until he heard Grozit order him inside.
“You called, sir?”
Grozit turned in his chair. “Yes. It seems we have a little problem.”
“Again? We only just saw off those Mudokons!”
Grozit smiled, a sure sign that he was angry. “Yes, but before we made any action, they had already freed most of our workers. Do you know how many we have left now?”
Snikkit was wise enough not to answer, so Grozit continued. “Eighty-seven.”
Snikkit gawped. “We couldn’t run even one Warehouse with that many! We’ll have to request more from Cartel Central.”
Grozit frowned. “Well, that’s where the main problem is. We’ve requested so many workers recently that they’re bound to send an investigator round soon to see what’s going on. This investigator will look everywhere, and we can’t risk anyone finding out about our little untaxed logging operation, can we?”
“Well, no…”
“Exactly. So I suggest we put our plan into action.”
Snikkit thought a minute. “You mean the guards –”
“Yes.”
“Do we have enough Drones to run efficiently? I remember we had some troubles with personalities in the early Drones.”
Grozit smiled again. “The Vykkers have ironed those problems out now. We can rest assured that all of the Drones are now guaranteed completely loyal and personality-free.”
Snikkit sighed. “I suppose you’ll be wanting me to sort out the details.”
Grozit merely smiled.
Snikkit turned to exit. I’ll wipe that smug smile off your face one of these days, he thought, just you wait. We’ll soon see who has the power in this factory.
All around the factory, Slig Guards had their weapons confiscated by mindless Drones, who suddenly seemed to be everywhere. Most had never seen a Drone before, never seen these silvery ovals that hover at head height, and deliver sharp shocks to anyone who disobeys.
Instead of guarding slaves, the sligs became the slaves, and were given strenuous tasks, the sort that they had never had to do before, although they had forced the mudokons to do it enough times. Guards who had previously bashed mudokons for slacking off found themselves being zapped by the Neural Stunners built-in to the Drones’ bodies for the same offenses. Sleeping, an all-time favourite pastime for the guards, suddenly became next to impossible, with the ever-present Drones watching them at all times. Those sligs who did not need to move far had their pants confiscated as well. All wings were confiscated, and Bigbros were kept in confinement until their steroids had worn off.
The sligs were learning what it had been like for the mudokons, and many vowed never to hurt another mudokon, if only they could escape.