Challenge #03462-I174: At the Grave of Ostentatious

in #fiction2 years ago

canstockphoto76430240.jpg

CEO - "You MUST obey me! Now bring me food, bring me the crops, I'm HUNGRY!"
Former employees - "We're stuck on this world, too, buddy. We grew this food, we'll eat this food. You want to eat, you either start helping out, or you can eat the bland nutripaste crap the replicators make."
CEO - "So why in h--- don't you just KILL me, if you hate me so much??"
Former employees - "Because it's more fun hearing you whine, and because SOME of us are nice enough to hope that you might actually learn, like your wives and kids have, to work WITH us in peace." -- Lessons

They said that the Ostentatious was the ship of dreams. They weren't entirely wrong, it was just that it was the ship of dream. Singular. One man's dream to make the most luxurious space yacht with every possible amenity and the kind of engines that make small minds excited to show them off.

CEO Victor Truman Valerium only took it on one flight. Shortly after he bragged that nothing in the universe could take it down.

Nature hates a vacuum. The universe, full of vacuum, hates blatant displays of hubris. It should surprise nobody that the Ostentatious set forth on her maiden voyage with only the appearance of being fully prepared. With little if anything to do with basic safety precautions, and not enough lifepods. It should also surprise nobody that the ship went down in unsurveyed space whilst the pilot - CEO Valerium - was attempting a maniac manoeuvre that was ill-advised. Even for vessels designed to do it.

It was sheer dumb luck that they all landed on a habitable planet.

Those lucky enough to survive planetfall salvaged what they could of the Ostentatious, picking off her gilded frames and marble veneers to make a shantytown around the crater.

The first year was always the roughest, even in planned colonies. Ground had to be cleared. Ground had to be broken. Crops had to be grown. Animals had to be hunted. Even then, there were elaborate steps that had to be taken to be certain anything was edible.

His nine wives and seventeen children progressively disowned him during that year, preferring to join with the surviving workers rather than eat nothing but nutrient soup from the food printers.

Madelina Valerium, formerly prized for her physical attributes, became a miracle worker at keeping the food printers functioning and functional. She gave her silk ballgowns to the people making filters and lived in denim and canvas. Victor disowned his daughter very quickly once "she let herself go".

Former sixth wife Felicity could organise logistics like no other. She could calculate rationing on the fly and, as a bonus, concussed a Dire Pig with one blow from her Designer Purse. It only takes one such instance to become a legend, but she went out and hunted them like that.

The impromptu colony survived a lot of the winter on every part of the Dire Pig but its squeal.

First Harvest was a day that would last in lore and legend, at least until they reconnected with the Alliance. Time would tell. Those who tilled the land, those who tended those first seeds with anxiety and paranoia, those who carefully encouraged every leaf, all were throwing a party.

They had won. They had won fertile soil and enough crops to see them comfortably through the next winter. Without having to resort to Dire Chitlin Surprise. Further, they had enough to plant for next year.

It was still a thin party, but the relief in having enough was palpable. Everyone was in a mood to celebrate. Well. Almost everyone.

"What in the [UNPLEASANT AFTERLIFE] is this? You need to be repairing my ship for launch, not partying! What sort of food do you call this [EXCREMENT]?" A moment to process that there was real cooked food at this event and then Victor demanded, "Where the [FORNICATION] is my share?"

"Sure. We'll get you what you deserve," said one of the former cleaning staff, now known as Suz to everyone else. She picked up a clipboard and pretended to do calculations on a piece of bark there. "How many hours did you spend on soil enrichment?"

"I don't even know what the [UNPLEASANT AFTERLIFE] that is!"

"Mm-hm. What about weeding? Did you do any weeding?" The questions went on. How much time building, how many hours hunting, did you do any childcare, what about cooking? "Where were you at harvest time?"

"What's with the third [FORNICATION] degree? I. Am. Your. Boss! You give me what I ask for and you make it look nice or you're fired!"

"I quit on the day of the crash, asswipe. When you said that none of our lives mattered. Go hunt a Treecat or something." For show, Suz handed over the bark, which had a big scribbled circle on it. "This is what you deserve."

Victor attempted to take what he wanted from the array of food, only to have his hand swatted by assorted wooden spoons. Wielded by assorted ex-wives.

"I'm your husband," he yowled, hands growing red from so many swats. "You aught to be grateful. I'm the reason you're even here."

"We know," said Felicity, reaching for her famous purse. "That's why you're lucky we don't kill you."

Only now did he notice that a lot more of his former staff and subjects were arming themselves. Even the children. "Go ahead. Kill me. It won't do you no [FORNICATION] good. You'll all die without my command skills."

This was greeted with laughter.

Something soft landed on his head. A jester's hat made of multicoloured leaves.

"It's way more fun to listen to your whining. If you want some of the feast, go peel some potatoes or something. Or go suck paste at the food printer. Your choice."

Laughter is an excellent weapon, in the right circumstances.

[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Engdao]

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She could calculate rationing on the fly and, as a bonus, concussed a Dire Pig with one blow from her Designer Purse

I nearly spat drink on my keyboard XD what the hell are in those purses XD

I love how he comes out with "you'll die without my command skills" and manages to completely bypass the fact they built an entire working colony without his input.

That's because CEO's like that don't realize that THEY are not normally the intelligent ones in their networks. They just tend to take the credit for other people's work. As for what's in the purse? I wonder if it's a match to what I keep in my purse? Sure it's heavy, but in an emergency, I'm prepared. Heh, and this doesn't show the lifestraw I also carry.

What I keep in my Purse.jpg

Why a chunk of the knife collection just out of curiousity? One doesn't suffice? XD

I'm a Prepper, and I have a habit of sometimes having redundant blades. The big knife is also a saw for cutting wood, or other things as needed, the smaller blade is a good utility / survival knife and a good fillet knife when needed, the others are just spares and for smaller needs, i.e. cutting string or rope without having to break out the big knives, and, of course, that bundle is paracord covering a fishing kit, and my leatherman is a multi-tool, and the small yellow blade has a very bright flashlight in it, and that silver pouch is a fire-starter kit, etc. This is just my small, carry-with-me prep kit. That's all.

It's not redundant, it's a collection XD

No first aid kit?

I still have to go through mine and find out what needs replacing, world's laziest here x_x

I'm too paranoid to carry a fishing kit, I'm exactly the kind of person that would somehow have it spill open in the bag and then I would stab myself on a hook.

That's in the other pouch of the purse. A small first - aid kit. I was just showing off the blades. 😁 The fishing kit is highly compact so even if the purse did spill, nothing will catch you. And if you store your hooks right, you'll be quite safe.

I am learning all sorts of things from this conversation.

That's a lot of knives XD

...for reals I once carried a jeweler's anvil in a purse for a joke.

😁 LOL You should see people's faces if they pick up my purse to hand it to me. I've gotten one comment "What do you have in this damn thing, rocks???"

And I go, nope, knives!

The looks on the faces is priceless!

I'll bet!

You'd run into legal issues in Aus, carrying that many bladed things with you. We have some byzantine weapons laws here [because ancient thugs with cut-throat razors] about what you're allowed to have with you just because.

Basically: multitool yes, fucking arsenal no.

You'd be surprised at how useful they've become when I'm out camping and cutting small pieces of wood for kindling, and practicing woodland bushcraft by making lean-to's :-)

Delicious

LOL I Love it! They refuse to stoop to his level and actually KILL him, but instead does something far worse to him, at least in his view! WONDERFUL!

He'll either learn or be free entertainment.