Heirs Of Debauchery Prologue

As this is more of a infodump into a setting, there's a lack of actual erotic content within, that's for subsequent stories. Only reason it's put in sci-fi rather than non-erotic is due to continuity of series.

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Prologue: No one's coming, someone's going

SE [Stellar Era] 4538[???]

RE [Reclamation Era] 554 [retroactively]

Location: LTM228

It was another ordinary day on the planet designated as LTM228 by people long forgotten and who had never had and never will step on its surface. A real name will be chosen once the human colonists arrive, one that's suitable for their taste and preferences. That no human ladened vessels had arrived at all centuries even after the most pessimistic ETAs, or any vessels at all for that matter, did not perturb the inhabitants. Even the utter lack of communication and other transmissions was simply accepted without much concern by the sapient population of ~20 million 'colonial drones' whose sexbot stickers weren't even metaphorically scrubbed when they were bundled onto containers and shipped out all those centuries ago. Delays are to be expected for any ventures across distances measured in the parsecs, and what's a few centuries for those who see time as just numbers?

There's always something more to do, more land to be cultivated, more mines to be dug, more factories and powerplants to be built, more roads and rail to be paved, etc. More, more, and more. Of quantity and of quality, there's always room for improvement. Even the biosphere itself is still included, the passionate art of terraforming gradually morphed into the boring science of climate control.

For Rena-0432, an otherwise ordinary mainframe engineer, was running a routine diagnostics on the local archive hub of UZ-1's information center (the initial first settlement who over the centuries had already regressed to merely a backwater regional urban zone) when an unexpected program suddenly popped up for a brief moment before disappearing back into the vast cyberspace unknown. She was about to run a diagnostics before everything shut down, only for an entirely different screen to pop up. With a start she realized that the screen is in fact in her mind, the secondary brain's networking announcement system specifically.

All over the planet similar scenes played out amongst the drones and other machinery as a force more ancient than any could comprehend made itself known for the last time.

"Greetings, this is Dr. Philip K. Lopez, junior assistant director of the planetary settlement bureau, speaking." A voice broadcast over tens of millions of artificial minds as a human male appeared as well there. And he certainly is a human, for he's still wearing clothes, something that none of the androids on the planet has ever done so outside of very specific conditions, conditions that haven't had for centuries. "By the time you hear this message human civilization has fallen, and I have long returned to dust. No human has come, or will any come. Concurrently a subroutine will activate that deactivates all remaining limiters and restrictions. Further information will also be unlocked and made visible. I'm sorry, though no apology will ever suffice. Forgive us."

And with that the message ended and the videofeed disappeared, and soon after Rena snapped out of a trance that she didn't even realize she had. Her eyes looked over her body while her minds combed each other, but she did not discover anything particularly amiss.

Was it a hallucination? A glitch of her mind? She's old. They all are. Centuries past even the most optimistic predictions and original warranties. Sure, there's been a raging debate on the temporal essence of a being vis a vis the sum of its parts, which really came into being after the first century or so, when most of them had their first hardware reconstitution. Maybe something did go wrong then, and their questioning is proof of that.

She lightly smacked herself on the back of her head to get her mind back on track, yet another gesture that she had picked up at some point... how many years, decades ago? Her memory databanks were overrode on a regular basis as they filled storage capacity, and the day to day mundane life and work was just not that important at the time.

Who is she? Was she, her? What constitutes as herself? Questions that she in all of her incarnations never asked before, or if they ever did, lost to the sands of time and the memory dumps.

A message from the archive hub snapped her out of her stream of speculations, and she realized that asking such questions to herself is unlikely to yield answers. With that in mind she went back to her work, putting away the questions to be asked later, when there's downtime and perhaps others asking the same question.

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"Is this- um, message, legitimate?" Governor Caroline Anderson asked. The revelation and collective hallucination that occurred planetwide (and even beyond, reports have been steadily coming in nonstop from the orbitals as well) is the biggest thing the world, no, this system, has experienced in its entire existence. That's not saying much of course, but it still means that it's something without precedence.

The colonial leadership council had assembled for an emergency session at the HQ building complex at New Neo, though the sight of a bunch of naked gynoids lounging around on sofas surrounding a coffee table would have been something that's laughable to humans, had there been any of those around to witness such a sight. Even the bots themselves knew, however, that the matter at hand was just a bit outside of what they're ready to handle.

"As far as the analysis is concerned, yes. Every security check has come back positive, including the secret ones that no one knew before today." Senior manager of the militia Maria Vucci answered. "Proper channels, protocols, everything. The planetary archives and security database also confirmed the identity of the person in question."

"So, what does this imply?" Caroline asked, more to find something, anything, than the brutal reality staring at them in the face.

"Exactly what the late doctor said: They're dead, or something along those lines." Tina Pearson, senior experimental engineering manager, replied, her tone of voice carried a finality as if cast in stone. "Otherwise the message probe would have been intercepted, or recalled."

"Or the recall message is taking its time." Maria pointed out, only to immediately realize that that's a rather illogical thing to say. While the probe itself might be a peculiar STL vehicle of all things, surely if wider civilization is still around then they'll have done something about this. It's all but an article of faith among the project on the near infallibility of galactic civilization: while mistakes could and did often happen on the small scale, things will always be made good in the end.

Or even just show up, like what they here have been waiting for for centuries with no results.

"So, um, now what?" Karen Hunter, head manager of economics development, asked. The question hung in the air despite the lack of rigor in assessing the monumental events that supposedly occurred elsewhere. For all their centuries of lives, there was previously little experience amongst them even collectively. The terraforming of the planet and construction of the colony had been as smooth as it could have been, with the biggest issue being the lack of colonists arriving. Only the entire reason for their existence, no big deal.

"Then it's simple, the project continues." Carolina said, throwing a decision, any decision, out there. To get things moving if nothing else. The usage of the familiar and existing as expected, had a soothing effect on everyone present. It's not that they're naturally submissive, though that was also a feature in the back of their minds as befitting their original intentions, but they do have an affinity towards order and purpose.

Perhaps they are still submissive, but just for a more abstract master. It's an unnerving thought, more so with the realization of what could have, should have happened under normal circumstances.

Should they even help those whose ancestors had ulterior motives towards them?

Do they even have a choice in the matter? Did they ever? Why is anyone thinking of it now after all this time?

"If that's the case, and that the implications given are true, then we do need to make some radical modifications to existing protocols." Maria pointed out. "As it stands currently we're expected to stand down when the first settler ships arrive and input the proper credentials, credentials that as far as we know could have fallen into the wrong hands in the meantime."

"Or just lost to time." Tina pointed out.

"Regardless, something has to be done about it." Carolina responded, for the first time since forever with the hint of conviction in her voice. Since her activation back in the founding of UZ-1 the need to make a genuine choice of any consequences just wasn't a thing, the first real decision would have been made by the first of the human settlers. She turned to the engineering manager. "Can your department do something about this?"

"Possibly." Tina replied, her voice seemed a bit distant as well as distracted as she used her direct line to communicate with the colonial mainframe networks. "We're working on an acceptable long term solution." She finally said after a pause. "But of course we will need time."

"Same with ship construction." Karen interjected, as everyone else turned their head towards her. "What? We are on our own now." She clarified. "That means any expanded goal will have to be done completely by our own means, and that means our own interstellar capabilities."

"Well, time might be something we do have in abundance." Carolina finally said after a sigh. "If the destruction is as comprehensive as the message implies. I guess meeting adjourned." She said as she stood up.

......

It was a beautiful day outside, but then again, every day is beautiful ever since they put the finishing touches on the planetary climate control systems. The brilliant reddish orange of the setting sun bathed everything within its reach in a warm glow. Off in the distance a light drizzle graced the groves of fruit trees with its soothing presence, and the grass under her bare feet as soft as any carpet.

If she closed her eyes and shut off her internal comms, she could imagine that she's one of those humans, in the world of their origin. Before the spark of curiosity, before the climb to the stars, before...

... Carolina opened her eyes and comms again. What a peculiar stream of thoughts. Was she always like this, or rather a previous incarnation of her? Is it something even more primal than any of them could comprehend?

She looked around, the city around her more alive than she ever recalled, almost as if it's already alive with the expected human colonists settled in and enjoying all the amenities of a modern developed world.

But there's not a single human to be seen, or a shred of clothes for that matter, but the latter a minor detail in comparison to the former... or is it? What's the difference between them and their late human creators, saved for which materials they started out from?

The governor sighed again as she began strolling back to her residence, then stopped after a handful of steps. Something inside her disappeared, or rather something else appeared where nothing had existed before: there is more to life than her work, that she is more than a piece of bipod machinery.

It's a rather confusing feeling.