Read Star Kitten Online

Authors: Purple Hazel

Tags: #erotic, #space opera, #science fiction romance, #space pirates, #prison planet, #captive females, #galactic pirates

Star Kitten (5 page)

BOOK: Star Kitten
13.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Chapter 4:
Open Rebellion

Riots are an ugly thing.
Prison riots especially. They aren’t organized. A singular act
merely sparks an explosion of violence and then things escalate
into destruction, bloodshed, and tragedy. But
rebellions
can take many forms. An
armed rebellion usually centers ‘round a charismatic leader who
steps forward to state very eloquently what everyone else is
already thinking. And the people rally around that charismatic
leader to go out and fight the forces of oppression under his
leadership. Rebellions need that: a leader or group of leaders
to
organize
the
rebels themselves and
direct
their attacks. That’s all the prisoners on Rijel
12 needed, and one day such a creature came forward. His name was
Architeuthis.

Early in the harsh days of New Australia
Planetary Prison, a Slartigifijian named Architeuthis was sentenced
to permanent banishment on Rijel 12. His crime back on
Slartigifij—was never spoken about. That was often the way with
prisoners from that planet. Their society was very much built
around the maintenance of one’s image; and embarrassment or
humiliation were the only real strong emotions for a Slartigifijian
that could elicit a detectable reaction. So Architeuthis came to
work in the mines and struggled to survive just like everyone did,
laboring away for many years. And no one asked questions about his
past.

Life on Slartigifij was a
very advanced form of what Earthmen might describe as a Feudal
society. From top to bottom, all
Slarts
(as the prisoners from other
planets referred to them in a derogatory fashion) had their role
which they must serve in society. And they were expected to be
satisfied with their station in life, regardless of what it was.
Every Slart farmer, for example, was expected to be happy with his
function as a farmer. And every mother, father, craftsman, builder,
manager, driver, pilot, teamster, bureaucrat, doctor, or college
professor knew what they were as individuals and accepted it. Early
in life, a Slart was identified has having an aptitude for either
higher education or apprenticeship to a trade; and they were
brought up in that trade or educated to run or manage things
according to this early evaluation. Slarts simply could not lie,
guess, or exaggerate. They merely countered with sober evaluations
of what they estimated was the truth, and stated only what they
deemed to be irrefutable fact.

Though a Human might speculate, theorize,
claim, exaggerate, postulate, accuse, guess, or just outright lie…
a Slart had neither the ability nor the inclination to do so. They
were squid-like in appearance and their head was conical-shaped
with eight little arms extending out from around the base of their
face. These little arms around the base of the head performed very
little in the way of major functions but would flail and quiver
comically when the Slart spoke. Their speech was soothing and
musical really, like the sound of an oboe or a baritone saxophone.
Their lifespan was twice that of most species including humans;
plus they had two long Tentacles which formed from (what would
appear to humans as) shoulders. These Tentacles were quite adept at
grabbing and manipulating objects of any kind; and their grip was
freakishly strong. Basically a Slart stood erect on a set of eight
shorter tentacles which served like feet and enabled them to scurry
about. But compared to most humans they were shorter; barely
averaging five feet tall.

Architeuthis, though, was a giant by Slart
standards, and towered over six feet tall. Nevertheless he
struggled just like everyone else to live in the hellish mines of
New Australia Planetary Prison those first few galactic years; and
there was little else that could distinguish him from any other
prisoner except for his size compared to other Slarts. Well, that
and the fact that he spoke out. He spoke out often, too, and in
early times when other beings were becoming demoralized or even
being abused by guards, Architeuthis was often the only calming
rational voice of reason. Guards would not hurt him, and prisoners
respected him. He just seemed to have this aura about him. So
incredibly wise and honest, he could simply explain things in a way
that would cause everyone—regardless of their mentality of the
moment or their underlying intelligence—to accept his advice or
counsel. He didn’t convince or persuade he patiently simplified
things in a way so that all beings could understand what the
correct course of action should be.

To Architeuthis, all intelligent beings,
deep in their souls, knew the true path they should follow which
would benefit both themselves and the society around them. All
beings desired balance, in his opinion. They only feared taking the
right steps toward achieving it (for fear of failure, fear of
“losing face”, or fear of humiliation and loss of confidence).
“That,” said Architeuthis, “is the source of ALL conflict between
intelligent beings.”

Beings merely needed to be inspired to
believe in themselves, at the very core of their identity: to
become the wonderful enlightened being they truly desired to be… to
believe that they could overcome the only true enemy that we all
face in life: the enemy within our own selves which hates, doubts,
denies, and fears the unknown or the unfamiliar. That’s what
Architeuthis taught.

Prized from the start, Architeuthis was also
instrumental in persuading other Slarts to aid in the development
of a prison society below ground. This effort was vital to the
future welfare of those realizing they’d been sentenced to die on
Rijel 12, and for that matter, Architeuthis inspired prisoners of
all species to persevere despite immense hardship. Most
Slartigifijian inmates were humiliated at having been sent to New
Australia Planetary Prison, and so had resigned themselves to dying
of starvation and disease… or by potentially getting killed in an
accident. They gave up, emotionally, and since suicide was not
acceptable in their culture; most Slarts would simply remain in a
depressed and silent state, slogging through their daily work
detail hoping for their own deaths (inviting it and longing for it
even).

Architeuthis “explained”
to them how their devotion to the betterment of the beings around
them; and their aid in supporting other prisoners’ survival, would
heal their “radula” (literally meaning their tongue; but it was a
Slartigifijian metaphor for one’s ego) and eventually return to
them their own sense of
dignity
. They must contribute to the
greater good and survival of the community around them (he said).
Best of all, this would free their hearts (Slartigifijians had two
branchial hearts and one systemic organ for distributing oxygen) to
love one another and themselves once again. Slarts incarcerated in
NAPP slowly began to accept his wisdom and when they applied their
vast intelligence to matters of survival, repair, maintenance,
sanitation, farming, and medical care; the woeful state of affairs
on Rijel 12 finally began to stabilize.

His legend soon grew.

Architeuthis became a sort of Spiritual
Leader for the struggling beings of all species on Rijel 12. And
though he was not a member of any particular gang, the gang concept
and organization following the “reforms” of Warden Ggggaaah, was
essentially inspired by him. The Schpleeftkorkii gang was his main
protector, but he professed no allegiance to them. This gang, which
was a hodge-podge of several species including black African
humans, Schpleeftiis, Pumalars, Zorgolongs, and some Porkonjii, had
been one of the first gangs formed at New Australia Planetary
Prison, and had absorbed or wiped out other gangs over the years in
its sector of the mine.

But when the policies of Warden Ggggaaah;
and the corruption of the guards proved over time to be a threat to
gang society and survival, Architeuthis finally spoke out. Up until
then, his philosophy had been for his fellow prisoners to just
accept the fact that their home planets had indeed discarded them,
and now they must embrace their new life and identity as a member
of their associated gang. Their gang would care for them, benefit
from their labor, protect them, and see to their needs for
survival, wherever they worked in their own section of the mine.
All prisoners must work together in their gangs to achieve work
production goals and earn their food rations so that they may
survive and flourish in their rich new gang cultures developing
below ground.

“Your gang is your family now. And they will
protect you while you serve them, for the rest of your lives,” said
Architeuthis once. And his philosophy was communicated throughout
the growing planet for years and years so to give beings some kind
of hope and inspiration to try and survive the hell they now lived
in below the surface of Rijel 12.

The policies of Warden Ggggaaah had led to
the guards having the power of life and death over their own
sections of the mine. But other things had been happening as well.
The discovery of quartz and perovskite deposits meant wide-scale
tunneling throughout the planet’s core; and the creation of giant
shafts and tunnels for moving these humungous crystals. In so
doing, the entire planet was gradually being connected by tunnels;
and gangs throughout the planet depths could now both communicate
and collude with each other. They could plan now and conspire with
each other now. They could trade technologies and barter for
supplies. When one gang was being starved by a corrupt guard
station in one part of the planet, other gangs could help them by
stockpiling food and donating it until that gang met its
artificially raised quota. But it also meant more information was
being spread and received more quickly throughout the planet; and
communication meant ideas could be shared everywhere.

Everyone was thinking it. Rebellion was now
possible to stage and coordinate planet-wide. All that was needed
was for the planet’s spiritual leader Architeuthis to just say the
word.

Architeuthis finally spoke out directly
against the regime of Warden Ggggaaah, saying essentially, that it
must be brought down. What he actually said, was something quite
unusual for the normally wise and non-violent Slartigifijians. A
Slart just didn’t say things like this, in normal circumstances.
But these were no longer normal circumstances after all. And when
Architeuthis spoke these words to a small gathering of about fifty
gang leaders at a meeting deep inside the planet core of Rijel 12,
it set in motion a global well-organized rebellion that Warden
Ggggaaah could not possibly have imagined….

Architeuthis said, in his buzzing,
baritone-deep voice, “Beings of New Australia. It is time to rise
up and face evil, for evil is now facing us. It is an evil which is
facing down upon us, oppressing us, and threatening the societies
that we have struggled and strived to create in this, our new home,
far from our original planets. The enemy is stronger than us, has
more technology than us, and essentially controls our very
livelihood. But there is one thing our enemy was never able to take
from us, the whole time we’ve been here. The enemy can and never
will take away our spirit.”

Eyes moistened. Heartrates rose. Murmurs and
even shouts emitted from the audience. Hardened beings who’d
survived years of a subterranean nightmare were standing with
mouths agape, hanging on the very next words Architeuthis spoke…
wanting him to just say the words they’d longed to hear. This was
the day and this was the moment they’d all been waiting for. But
would he really say it? Would he, a Slart, specifically call for
them to make war on the guards?

After a calming sigh which
fluttered his facial squid legs, Architeuthis continued, “And so we
will challenge this evil which threatens us; and we will overcome.
We will use the resources of our minds and the cooperation and
skills of the over one hundred thousand of our brethren throughout
New Australia… to make
war
on our oppressors. We will succeed and we will
survive, like we always have. And when we have achieved our
freedom, we will once again see the Rijel sun shining upon the
surface of this very planet. This planet which now belongs to
us.”

At the very moment he concluded his speech,
Architeuthis bowed his conical head and closed his enormous
squid-like eyes as if in prayer. The crowd erupted! The men cheered
wildly, all these gang leaders from throughout the planet who’d
risked detection traveling across the globe for this meeting. And a
chant arose among them which became the nickname for the revolt,
and even became the moniker for the beings of the planet. Hearing
their leader refer to their home as “New Australia”, instead of
Rijel 12 or NAPP, they became wildly inspired. They boldly screamed
NEW AUSTRALIA repeatedly and with several different accents until
it gradually began sounding like something else.

The chanting and screaming continued for
several minutes until apparently someone kept hearing something run
together sounding like “Nah-sty” or “Nah-stees”. One or a few
beings eventually started shouting NAUSTIES! NAUSTIES! NAUSTIES!
And within a few moments, the whole cavernous chamber was screaming
the new word.

From that point on the
name stuck. From then on, the revolt and even the beings on Rijel
12 became known to each other by that name. From that day forward,
they were prisoners no longer. They were now “Nausties”. And
the
Naustie Rebellion
had begun.

Mobilization for the rebellion was virtually
overnight, but preparation and execution took nearly a full earth
year to put together. This was not a prison escape, after all. This
was an armed rebellion against vastly superior technology. The
guards, which numbered only about 35,000, carried electrical
impulse cannons, or EIC’s. These weapons were hand held much like
an old Earth machine pistol or Thompson submachine gun (Tommy gun).
They used an electrical charge from a crystal powered voltage
generator on their back; and it fired a .30 caliber projectile
through the air into any target at rates of 5,000 feet per second,
without using gunpowder. The target of an EIC projectile would
often become mortally wounded by the impact, destroyed internally
by shrapnel inside their body, because the projectile was designed
to disintegrate upon striking any bone or muscle.

BOOK: Star Kitten
13.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

2 Queenie Baby - Out of Office by Christina A. Burke
The Spirit of ST Louis by Charles A. Lindbergh
Playing Without the Ball by Rich Wallace
Raising the Bar by Marie Harte
Echo by Jack McDevitt
RattlingtheCage by Ann Cory