https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvANy49Kqhw -- Anon Guest
[AN: Nonny wanted to link to this particular song, but it was found in this playlist. Enjoy at your leisure]
If there was one upside to the situation, then Bo would never run out of things to do. There was always something that needed doing. Something that needed fixing. Something that needed sweat and muscle and time to do. The downside being that Bo had swapped life in one crapsack situation, for life in another.
At least in a prison, there was an end to the sentence. The contract had sounded tempting and, thanks to an entirely engineered education disparity, Bo could barely read very much of the contract at all. Boilerplate, they said. Standard stuff, they said. You'll never serve another day in a cell, they said.
Technically... they weren't wrong. Bo didn't see any such thing as a prison wall. No barbed wire, no chain link, no guards. There was no point. Even if he ran from the colony in progress, he would not last long. The native flora and fauna required extensive processing to be edible or non-toxic, and there wasn't enough of it in easy reach to even try surviving on. It was stay in range or run off to die. He was free to make that. Some choice. Work his butt off or run away from it all and slowly starve. He'd seen a few who'd tried Option B. One look was too many.