Central Metropolofactorium 7-Zero-C
The fires blazed endlessly atop the great chimneys, spewing ash and smoke into the air between the great gouts of flame that licked the stained red and brown skies. Despite being midday the ground was bathed in an unholy red glow and was somewhat dark. A haze of brown hovered about the hard ash packed ground, beneath once had been clean concrete floors but it had been years since they could be seen beneath the dirt of the factoria that pumped out endless supplies of all sorts to fuel the Forge Masters' stockpiles and trading. Few nations openly admitted to trading with the Conglomerate in fact none did, but most all of them traded secretly, the goods produced were excellent quality, cheap and available in massive numbers.
Junior Press Overseer Orion French walked allong the steel catwalk above the ground. Only the Gang Bosses and Guards walked on the ground other than the slaves, but no-one considered the slaves ever. That was the job of the Gang Bosses and Service Slaves. Guards kept them in line, Service Slaves kept them fed and looked after (if you could call it that) and Gang Bosses watched them as they moved from place to place and generally ran their lives for them.
His heavy boots made a metallic clunk as he walked allong the catwalk which shook making a strange rattle as he stepped heavily allong it. Suspended this high up he was above the haze of dirt that hung about the people and slaves on the ground, but below the level of the factory pollution. Nevertheless he was dressed in a heavy canvass overcoat and had a tightly clipped helmet and face mask on. None of his skin showed through it, which was good since exposure to the radiation and pollution was known to cause skin problems among other things. The clips and tools clicked as he walked making him seem very imposing, even when compared to the Guards in their spiked armour with their assault rifles slung on their backs and stun sticks at their sides. Guards were only a small rung above the slaves afforded enough protection to prevent serious health problems from the extreme pollution and better food and support, but still treated as workers by the Overseers, Bosses and Masters like French.
As he approached the facility that he was assigned to a Gang Boss approached him. The Gang Boss wore a patched and stained canvass longcoat and a gasmask with an old stahlhelm over the top but contrasted heavily to French as his clothes showed considerable wear and were stained badly, while Frech's were brightly coloured and well looked after by his personal slave team (only two slaves as he was still a Junior Overseer) . The Gang Boss stamped to attention and saluted him with his right hand.
"At ease Afghan." Said French who already stood at ease, heavily studded gloved hands clasped behind his back, "Report on the Nightshift."
"Creole's team fell behind schedule on the press overnight meaning your team will need to make up the work for now. But the good news is Creole has been put back into the Guards and replaced by Senjo Mongol, who as you know is a much better taskmaster than that useless arse." Replied Afghan standing at ease, "But the matter has gotten serious as this shipment was an important one, so the CEO Kastor Leone is keeping an eye on production in this facility. If you can catch up with the quota then it looks like you'll get a leg up for promotion, if you exceed the quota then you'll be fastracked to Senior Overseer. Either way as long as you meet the dayshift quota you're clear and will get the first day off allong with the dayshift slave team while the nightshift are put on doubletime."
"Right, are we ready?" Asked French smirking beneath his mask, "Tell me its possible to exceed the quota?"
"I already have the team assembled and working sir. The Nightshift JPO agreed to stay late until you arrived to keep the press operating so as to save her own skin. But you'll get the credit." Replied Afghan turning to walk beside French to the facility, "If you crank it up a notch you should exceed the quota by three units by the end of the day. I have managed to pull in a couple of Guards who owe me a favour to help out."
"Excellent with an extra two Guards we should exceed it by 5."
"5 sir? Are you sure?" Aked Afghan pretending to be taken aback, he knew the team could achieve at least 10 but wanted to look good in front of his JPO when they exceed the quota so massively above expectations, "Well I shall put my best efforts into it sir."
"Good. Shall we?"
