Chapter 78.5 - Ghosts

Dekar held the manager at gunpoint, the manager now tied up and cuffed in similar fashion to the slave workers he once oversaw. “Check the schedule, we need to make sure no word of this leaks out.”

Kyle didn’t reply, already checking the documentation and upcoming planned shipment and transport dates. Five captured Nest guards laid on the side unconscious, while Kyle flipped through account books and dates.

“You won’t survive the moment Nest comes in to check!” The manager managed to blurt out before Dekar jabbed the butt of his rifle into his jaw, causing him to topple over.

“Shut it – you’re a fucking disgrace to Versia.” Dekar retorted. “Running a slave factory right under the capital for the military? Are you insane?”

Kyle and Dekar had done their reconnaissance on the factory, discovering that the factory was designed to produce military uniforms and garments primarily, with an additional side product of bandages.

What made Dekar far more infuriated was that the army which was originally supposed to produce everything in-house following state control, had instead decided to work underground to acquire goods on a cheaper scale. The total lack of information and control severely damaged Dekar’s view of how exactly the Versian state and army had been running. “I thought I’ve rooted out corruption by the nobles, but it seems all it has done is shift it to a different

The minister merely chortled, blood seeping out of his mouth as his gums ached from the blow. He muttered a few inaudible words, his now swelling jaw making it impossible to decipher.

“The Clouds next slave shipment comes in five days, and the Nest material shipment comes in two weeks.” Kyle summarised.

“How many uniforms are they expecting?”

“Fifty a day. Seven hundred in two weeks, assuming the factory has been keeping up to pace since the last pickup two weeks ago.”

From Kyle’s estimation of delivery accounts, Nest came to pickup the goods every month, before delivering it to the military. The destination was currently unknown, but all that matter for Kyle was to ensure that the enemy would not know about the takeover. Any leak would force them to immediately move.

There were more pressing issues however, such as the slave workers who were currently cowering behind cover, unsure of the outcome of the battle. Kyle had yet to determine the total amount of slaves present within the entire factory and surrounding dormitories, and still had to figure out a way to cajole them into following his command.

As Kyle stepped out of the office and approached the slave dorms, the slave workers all meekly peered outwards. Their appearance spoke volumes about the treatment they received: gaunt faces with sunken cheeks, threadbare clothing that failed to mask the scars of machinery accidents or mistreatment from the Nest guards in form of bruises and infected wounds, and eyes full of uncertainty. They stared at Kyle in disbelief, some still believing it to be a ploy by Nest to draw out the disobedient among them.

The slave workers cowered as soon as Kyle stepped past them, their bodies instinctively flinching as they half expected a beating or a punishment to come down. However, Kyle instead ignored them, heading straight for the dorm, where the new female slaves quickly scurried from the main entrance, attempting to hide themselves in the damp dark corners of the shared common chamber in which the rest of the remaining slaves scrambled for safety.

The door swung wide open, Kyle pushing back the metal doors with the dim arctech lantern lights of the factory streaming in behind him. In front of him laid close to three hundred people, huddling together for safety as they eyed Kyle warily.

The decrepit state of the place did not surprise Kyle – what did was the seemingly complete lack of defence the slaves tried to offer towards him. It was as though they had lost all dignity, resigning themselves to mere fodder to work and starve. They were like ghosts. This is going to be a problem.

Building a gang required capable people who at least had the gall or morale to stand up against opposition. As far as he could tell, the slaves had long been neutered by the consistent demoralisation and oppression of the Nest guards, something he personally has carried out in the Galactic Era. The original objective of building a gang out of rebellious slaves seemed to be out of reach now.

The ghastly eyes of the slaves staring back at him showed a complete lack of hope – nothing in their soul nor heart that could crack the brutal cynicism that permeated their lives, especially those who had been here for months or even years. It would be hard for Kyle to command them to drug, steal, rape or pillage others – not when they hardly had the motivation to fight for their own rights themselves.

If Kyle had more time, he could potentially wean them off, and convert them into proper Seven Snakes members. But he had a tight deadline of two weeks, requiring the manpower to be at least serviceable enough to reach critical mass to fight against Nest. And as much as he tried to clamp information down, he was sure that Nest would eventually figure out what is happening.

Dekar soon joined him, his heart crestfallen at the sight of so many Versians enslaved right under his nose. Yet instead Kyle had a gentle expression on his face, a far cry from the irritated and disappointed look that Dekar had endured thus far.

“Do not fear, for I do not stand with Nest nor anyone who seek to oppress you.” Kyle began, laying down his rifle and holding out his arms like a messenger from the heavens, his posture calm and peaceful. “Instead I bring your salvation!”

The word triggered an unknown emotion deep within the slaves, but it was far from enough to break their doubt. “Sir, please forgive us! Please do not beat us!” One of the mothers, still under the impression that it was a ploy by Nest, pleaded on her knees, her two children hiding behind her begging posture.

“Why would a messenger from the Goddess of Nona beat you? It is the goddess Nona’s wish that you be free as any other human that walk the earth!”

The slaves were taken aback, except for one of the newer female slaves who had witnessed the protest in Raktor before she had been trafficked. “The goddess cult is here too! We’re saved!”

That single sentence sent a ripple through the slaves. It was something to hear a stranger claim that they were saved, but for a fellow slave who was still clad in chains to believe wholeheartedly lent more credibility to Kyle’s words. Some among them became more receptive, while others, lost in their trauma, continue to hide among the masses, hoping those at the front would bear the brunt of the imminent punishment.

Dekar was dumbfounded. “What the hell are you doing..?” He whispered angrily.

“Shut up and bring the unconscious Nest guards here!”

Before Dekar could retort, Kyle was already stepping forward, approaching closer to the slaves. The slaves were now less fearful, some of the younger teenagers even stepping forward, wanting to listen.

“Our goddess Nona is the one who have shaped the earth as it is, who has laid out every food, animal, monster and plant for our needs. And the Word of the Goddess states – ‘I have created everything on this planet for the enjoyment of the human race.’ Yet here you are! Living in shame, forced to scurry like rats and cower in fear under the heels of those who monopolise the gift of the goddess.”

The idealism took hold among the young, enamoured by the words Kyle spoke. The older slaves were far more resistant to the idea, some of them remembering the oppressive religion of the Yual Dominion.

“You work and toil, yet do not see any rewards bequeath unto you – how is this fair? I, as the messenger of the Goddess, aim to right this wrong: to promote justice for all those who are willing to accept. Unlike the false god Yual, the goddess Nona does not impose any restrictions – her only command that you be free!”

That last sentence successfully broke through the defences of the older slaves, realizing that this religion was completely different from the Sanctum of Yual. “No restrictions?” One of the older man whispered with a small sliver of hope.

“Of course! The fruit of the land that she has provided belongs to all, not those who would trample those under an oppressive boot! All those who want to enjoy in the spoils that you so richly deserve, rejoice! For the goddess have willed it that I be your guide and usher to true prosperity!”

“Will… will we get to eat meat?!” One of the younger kids yelled out the burning question in his heart.

“Not only meat! Milk, honey, and all the wealth the world has to offer can be yours if only you believe!”

A wave of excitement and joy spread through the slaves, but not all were convinced just yet.

“Don’t try to trick us! How can just believing afford us all of these! Do you take us for idiots?” An middle-aged slave heckled.

“Indeed, good things come to those who take action as well! Behold! Under divine protection, I have defeated the Nest guards!” Kyle waved his hand behind him, motioning towards an unconscious Nest guard that Dekar was struggling to drag.

The physical proof of defeat was the last kicker, with the slaves immediately gingerly stepping forward, before they truly ascertained that the Nest guard that was beaten up badly was indeed the same one that had been terrorising them for their stay here.

“And the goddess wills it, that the first step to true salvation is to rid yourself of the past.” Kyle picked up the rifle, handing it to one of the slaves, the same mother who pleaded not to be beaten. “Power is not born; it is earned! Prove right here and now, that you too have the strength to defend yourself and claim what is yours!”

The mother trembled as she wielded the rifle with clear amateurish handling, but the basic function was more than apparent to her. Her hand shivered slightly, before she avoided her gaze, unable to pull the trigger.

Kyle internally sighed at the hesitation, realizing he needed one more push to turn this defeated slave mob into a vicious fighting force willing to kill on sight. “Are you satisfied with living here? Are you? Are any of you? Are you truly content with how you’re living here, that you are willing to let just a few of them strike fear into your heart, day after day, week after week, month after month?”

“But… but what if they strike back?!” The mother exclaimed, worried about the return of Nest.

“The Goddess Nona protects all those who strive for freedom, and shuns those who willingly let them be enslaved! And I, your messenger and guide, shall ensure that your pride and dignity be protected no matter the cost. Do you not see how the Goddess have given me, a normal human being, the strength to overwhelm the Nest guards?”

“I….” The mother was at a loss for words, still unable to decide. As angry as she was at her former captors, she could not bring herself to end their lives.  Kyle turned to the rest of the slaves, who all still remained hesitant at killing Nest, afraid of retribution.

“Are all of you truly Versian? Are you proud to be one? To not have any profits, but to instead have all the hardship and suffering?! Are you willing to let this evil man live on, so that he may one day return to enslave you once more?”

“NO” A few of the young kids shouted out, anger burning in their hearts.

“The audacity of those above to enslave you, to put you lower than you truly are. Are you not deserving of the same gifts from the Goddess? Are you not capable of hope, dreams, strength and the right to defend oneself? Are you not human?!”

“WE ARE!”

“Then pull the trigger, and I shall burn a path into paradise for all those who are downtrodden, neglected, enslaved and called unworthy by others! No Versian is unworthy, save for those who oppress others!”

“YEAH! PULL THE TRIGGER!” The slaves were really into it now, the excitement pumping in their hearts. Months and years of mindless toiling away for free had begun to hit them as they realised how low they had fallen. What other way was there to go than up? Even if Nest were to return – what did they have to lose?

“We have nothing to lose, and everything to gain! PULL!” Kyle roared, finally convincing the mother.

With a single tug of her finger, the enslaved mother was no longer a ghost of her former self, her prior pride and dignity as a human being restored as the pellet fired tore through the arm of the Nest guard, shocking him awake with startling pain as he yelled out.

That admission of pain by their former captor, once heralded as a sign of torture and punishment, further fuelled the slaves’ convictions, their originally hopeless eyes now turning, transforming into vengeful ones as they surrounded and glared at the Nest guard.

Instead of shooting anymore, the mother simply passed the rifle to the next person, who readily took aim at the guard, but not as his head. Rather, he aimed for the limbs. “You fucking bitch, you’re not going to die that easily!”

As the slaves’ momentum began to build quickly, Kyle took a step back, leaving the screaming Nest guard to his own fate. Nobody looked at him any longer, but the same sinister grin he had for every plan was already plastered on his face.

“Today, the Ghosts of Tenar shall rise from the depths!”