Merely Pawns
Well, this is the secret. I am making two fan fictions at once. Kind of risky, maybe. But I will try to update this at the same time as the other.
Merely Pawns
An Oddworld Fan Fiction
By: (Codename) Slaveless
The following takes place 68 days after incident formally known as "Lulu’s Betrayal on Magog Cartel and Vykker Conglomerate", within the facility SandClan 45 at 11:38 pm
Prologue
Damn that Abe guy!, was what Hosher thought to himself for weeks nowadays
Hosher peered outside his glass office, overseeing all the compartments with glistening green and red lights that, from the distance he was at, seemed to be mixed into one body. It was getting closer to next day, and all the workers had but 13 minutes to retire in their bunks. He knew that by that time, every one of those Mudokons would turn on their tubes to watch what M.O.M. had to say about the daily destructions caused by new terrorist acts. If it was his luck, all of them would be stricken with fear about the revolting natives, and dismiss all thoughts provoked by the main terrorist Abe.
Worried about if such dismissal of thoughts did not happen, Hosher uncomfortably sat in his rolling chair. This had been going on for nearly two months now, the process of concern. Ever since the Glukkon queen Maggie, the mother of every living Glukkon left on Oddworld, had to been given life support, the Mudokon race was threatening his very source of life. His business, his company, and his species was on the end of the line because of that mutant-skinned Abe.
It seemed liked that just yesterday, that his Errands Slig had sprawled into his office, trying to say in between gasps of breath to read section AA2 in The Daily Deception. Within the articale told about some rather mysterious news about Rupture Farms. The facility was having it’s monthly board meeting concerning about their way of increasing profits within the company using their new line of products, New ‘N Tasty. Later it appeared in a security camera that a First Class Floor Waxer, Employee of the Year Abe had spied on the meeting. Since Molluck, the CEO of the Rupture Farms, was going file a lawsuit to whoever would release information about the New ‘N Tasty product a day early, they talked that whatever Abe had seen, caused him to leave his working position and attempt escape. That very same night, several Sligs were killed, many bombs had been executed and deactivated, and 28 other Mudokons had mysteriously disappeared. Mudokons before have escaped, but the majority had not left such a mark, much less even succeeded. This stressed Hosher only a little bit, as security was suppose to be superior over other facilities. Yet he dismissed this as luck for Abe, as other hundreds of Mudokons in other lesser facilities have never been able to pass the security successfully. Plus, the newspaper was probably exaggerating what really happened. Why should he worry about his security?
The very next day, his Errands Slig woke him up early in the morning to tell him to go watch M.O.M.. Hosher believed that his rather dim assistant was just trying to tell about the profits from his own company. Unfortunately, the news was not also grim, it was an omen to the Magog Cartel. A mysterious force had gotten back into Rupture Farms, leaving the whole security force dead, along with the entire board. From what it seems, there was no evident remains of Mudokons. Mullock, although suspected to be dead, could not be found in Rupture Farms. The facility became a No Man’s Zone, where anyone could take it. However, there was so much damage done to the facility, that any Glukkon would be spending a fortune just trying to fix up the place. The world’s largest meat plant had reached the peak of its history.
Hosher was shocked. M.O.M. wouldn’t lie. He even tried to contact Molluck via TeleFone, but no such luck. Something had succeeded in getting into Rupture Farms and shut down the place. Many press confrences were held trying to bring up theories on how this happened, but nothing logical came out of it. (One of the theories consisted of Molluck going into depression over the escape and wanted everyone in the factory to die from poisonous gas) Yet no one could relieve the shock from everyone. Hosher couldn’t sleep that night without the fear the same thing would happen to him.
It got worse the very next day he was watching M.O.M. the whole day during a board meeting. It was comfirmed that Abe, the Mudokon who escaped Rupture Farms two days before, had caused Rupture Farms to be shut down. The very same terrorist had gone on some sort of quest of shutting down factories when Necrum Mines had all 70 workers disappear miraculously, and the boiler system go down as well. Followed by that was FeeCo Depot, Bonewerks, The Slig Barracks controlled by General Dripik, and SoulStorm Brewery 401.
Hosher was drowned in immediate rage at that point. Molluck to him was a business partner who supplied him SoulStorm Brew, in trade of moolah. SoulStorm Brew was essential to his staff, as practically every Mudokon in his business had an addiction to it. Every week, the Mudokons were allowed to be given the choice of selecting five bottles of brew. Very often, plenty of Mudokons choose to drink SoulStorm Brew. Mudokons were told that it was their pay of the week for their hard work at the facility. Without the addiction, worker dedication was slim. Hosher feared, even more intensely now, that Mudokons would not agree to work. Or perhaps, the Mudokons would have more frequent emotional outbursts. (Some strategies that Hosher would use is to get the Mudokons upset or angry. That way, they would do work that otherwise would concern them. Then, he would get Mudokons to either calm them down, or relax them with SoulStorm Brew. However, some Mudokons may act unpredictably, and cause an accident. Then he would lose workers and have to buy more.) Hosher already loses apr. 260 workers each month. He didn’t need to lose any more than that.
Sure, Hosher could find business with the other mini SoulStorm Breweries, but the SoulStorm Brew amount given to Mudokons would change! How could he retain business? Buy different products? Hosher groaned in this puzzling situation. Things were changing, and for the worst.
Hosher puffed out more smoke from his dying cigar, as it was his last hope of salvation. He took a look at his contracts on his desk. He would later have a Worker Class Slig file them into the Record Room, as he already looked at them with the help of a Chronicler. The details on the contracts and papers included mainly of authentication that he bought the workers and machines in his facility. He sighed and remember that previous week in how he looked over the profiles on the Sligs, Greeters, Anti-Chant Orbs, and Snoozers, and the impulsive, repetitive busy-work he took to assign each and every one of the new workers. He assigned the new 32 Sligs into each area of the productive facility, just to ensure one of the Sligs will catch on when accidents or even assaults occur. His new Greeters were deposited in the areas that Mudokons would most likely attempt escape from. New Anti-Chant Orbs were scattered across the factory. And his four Snoozers were placed in the more denser areas. Oh, a good 3,500 moolah from the facility’s savings was just used in effort for the low-classed dregs to keep being productive!
He was about to talk to his Junior Executives when his TeleFone started to ring. He lumbered over to the TeleFone, expecting it to be one of the members of the board, on the rightmost wall of his office. When Hosher barked at the TeleFone to pick up the caller, a Glukkon who he recognized appeared on the screen. He did not work at his facility. In fact, it was a competitor from a neighboring SandClan. Hosher put on a grin for the unfriendly looking Glukkon, "Well look who it is! It’s my favorite bastard!"
Gideon did not return the smile. In fact, the red-suited, purplish colored Glukkon rarely ever did grin. The Glukkon did have a menacing look, as if his brow was fixed in a scowling look. His suit was indeed a dark red, almost looking as if he once had a white suit that had been soaked in blood. However, Hosher did not really understand the character at all. They had known each other for years, and he still could not get whether Gideon and him were good friends, or two foes destined to have one of them overcome the other. They were in each others’ classes all through their schooling ages, giving each other knowledge of each other. Hosher knew that Gideon was a grim figure, almost cool in the way he acted. He never was with caution. Gideon always had a plan, one that was larger than it seemed. Hosher swore Gideon only acted on behalf of his plans, making it so that the end result would be achieved.
Was it coincidence that both Gideon and Hosher decided to pass their resumes to SandClan 9? Was it fate that both were hired as Junior Executives? Is it possible it was destiny that both became extremely successful in their job and created their own facilities to run? Whatever it seemed, Gideon and Hosher had the same idea in mind. But like conjoined fruits, one of them will eventually live off of the other, and the other, no matter how superior it is, will fall. Hosher pridefully knew it was going to be him. He was the Big Cheese two years before Gideon was! It could only be him!
Gideon opened his mouth only to speak breathy, "Hosher, I require your assistance,"
Hosher knew where this was going. "I’m not a charity fund, bud. You will have to make your own dough the way everybody else does. Just steal something if you can’t make it."
"Moolah is something I have plenty of. I would like to propose a solution for your problem."
What was Gideon, a mind-reader? Hosher uncomfortably moved in his uniform, to move his left eye at his colleague. Hosher suspiciously growled, "What problem."
Gideon pridefully rose his head in feeling that he was making Hosher unable to comprehend. This meant he could persuade Hosher into thinking he might actually need help. He replied, "As we both know, you have forced addiction into the bellies of your Mudokons. Now, without your main source of SoulStorm, you will need to keep your brew supply as constant as before. May I bring up a suggestion?"
"I was about to call the mini breweries before your ugly face appeared on screen," lied the arrogant Hosher.
"No no! Not that! I meant, you could do something else with the breweries! That way, the Mudokons will be happy, and you can continue life,"
Hosher sparked with interest. This was pro with knowing about Gideon. It seemed as if he only wanted to make trade with Hosher and only get a little Moolah out of it. Hosher responded, "Tell me more..."
"Okay then, it goes like this..."
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