Suppressed Before the Riot Even Began?

Using information and craving to win people over.

It was a smart move.

Faora pointed in a third direction.

"There, twenty light-years from here, there's an agricultural planet. That planet has a powerful empire that controls dozens of surrounding star systems. Their military strength can't be underestimated, but their internal conflicts run deep. If we can exploit those conflicts, we can easily dismantle their defenses, then plunder their resources."

With that, she lowered her hand and looked around at the greedy, crazed, hungry eyes of the prisoners.

"This is my plan. Not charging around like headless flies, but organized, step by step, conquest with a goal. One planet after another, one star system after another, until we control this region of space, until we have enough resources and power, until no one can stop us anymore."

The prisoners fell silent.

Then the alien prisoner with four arms was the first to raise its fist, throw back its head, and roar, "Faora!

Faora! Faora!"

The other prisoners followed it, raising their fists and roaring to the sky. Their voices echoed through the stars, shattering more asteroids, cracking the nearby space, shaking the drifting fragments of the Phantom Zone until they trembled.

Faora stood among the prisoners, listening to their cheers, the cold smile at the corner of her mouth deepening. She knew they were not cheering for her. They were cheering for freedom, cheering for power, cheering for the plunder soon to come. But it did not matter. They would listen to her, at least for now.

"Move out!" She swept her hand down and was the first to fly out.

The other prisoners followed close behind. Some laughed wildly, some roared, some stayed silent but moved with astonishing speed. Like a swarm of locusts, they blotted out the sky and