The halls rang with anger. Through every inch of the building, you could hear people shouting declarations of their oppression and hatred of the owner. At the head of this uprising, there was an eighteen-year-old, idly smoking a cigar. A look of distaste graced his face, as if he was above the entire ordeal. A simple worker couldn't be expected to orchestrate something this elaborate, right?
Wrong. He had convinced almost every employee to rise against the horrible factory owner. That wretched man had been selling all his stock in the company to some unknown company. Slowly, that company was invading every aspect of their lives. Wages were drastically lowered to the point that they were lucky to have a few scraps of bread every night. His sister had died because of this months ago.
However, this wasn't Kassim's personal plight. It was everybody's chance to get revenge for their mistreatment. Considering they made dirigible parts and weapons, it wasn't as if they couldn't attain ammo for their revenge. All it took was a little persuasion to get some of the best mechanics on his side. Even some of the employees with higher wages were fed up with these antics. While they seemed loyal to the owner, Ahbmad, they were known to give some information out from time-to-time. Who gave it out was never really known.
Another person walked behind him. "Tch, let's get going, mate. We haven't got all day," Kassim said with a slightly indifferent tone. The blond beside him nodded, and then followed behind. He tapped the cigar, letting a few of the embers fall to the floor. Who cared if they started a fire? There was already enough happening that it didn't matter.
Compared to the calm demeanor of their leader, the majority of the workers were up in arms. Considering they were angry and armed to the teeth, it probably wasn't a great idea to get on their bad side. It was easy to tell who their anger was directed at, as a few crude effigies of the owner were impaled on old scraps of metal, emblazoned with phrases such as, "WE STRIKE, YOU FALL."
The duo entered the room, Kassim sauntering in, the other following quickly behind. Kassim stopped, allowing the other, Alibaba to go in front of him. Even if he was the mastermind behind the entire plan, Alibaba was more likeable. There was only so much you could do with sheer intimidation. You could raise an army, but they would only fight for so long.
Alibaba took a breath, but then realized that he had nothing to say. He was at a loss for words. Public speaking was never his strong point, especially when it was a situation where he had to come up with something on the spot. That was mostly due to the fact that he hadn't needed to spin a phrase for all to hear on a regular basis. The majority of people in the room had turned to stare, waiting for something to be said. It looked as if it would remain that way, unless someone said something.
"Ay, listen up!" Kassim shouted. The sharp phrase echoed slightly off of the steel machinery, but was muffled for the most part by the large amount of people in the production room. "You're doing something, but you're not doing enough! If you want to be noticed, you have to get in their faces! It's not enough to stand around and shout and think they'll notice!"
Again, it looked as if intimidation won out. The crowd scattered, heading for several of the nearby exits. It was one thing to make Alibaba proud, but it was another to disappoint Kassim. If you did, that would be your loss. He'd find a way to get payback; he always did. Consequences could be worse, considering his mysterious outside support in this endeavor.
"What are you planning to do with them, start a war?" Alibaba asked. Harsh words could only do so much, as he'd learnt from the slave driver of a human resources manager he had dealt with at his previous job. Those employees had left of their own will, and he felt as if the same thing would happen to Kassim if he kept it up.
"Maybe I am, mate. You never know how things'll pan out." He smirked back.
"Hey, I was just kidding! You can't be serious!" He stumbled over his words, trying to recover from the offhand comment.
"This factory's already done for," he paused, letting that thought sink in. "You're supposed to be a leader. If you can't remind people of what they're fighting for, then you-" He was cut off by a couple people walking by.
"Alibaba, you showed up!" one of them said. "Great of you to support the cause!"
It really was great, especially when they were opposing his half-brother. Alibaba's father had told him of his intentions to change his will, but he passes before he had the chance. Ahbmad ended up inheriting everything, and Alibaba was left to fend for himself. That's how he ended up in Jamil's factory, met a few people, and never saw them again. In fact, the last time he saw them, they were running from the city to avoid repercussions from the authorities. They didn't want to be blamed for the death of another person, even if that person caused the death of at least a few dozen people. From what he had heard, Ahbmad was heading down that same path, and Alibaba wouldn't allow for that to happen.
