Lost Colony
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Space Colony free porn video
Authors note: more of a Sci-Fi story than a TG one (so far) and R:rated
due to no sex, because I wanted to focus a little bit more on what I
consider a vaguely realistic scenario at least in this first part.
Please leave a review if you enjoyed it or have constructive criticism,
or visit my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/JockMcTafferty . Peace!
SPACE COLONY
CHAPTER ONE
It had probably been a board room meeting that had decided upon the exact
number of people to take on the colonisation voyage to Alpha Centauri.
Many things may have been discussed - the percentage that might not
survive the trip. The percentage that may succumb to foreign bacteria.
The number and type of each specialisation that would be required - the
Doctors, the Engineers, the Builders and the Farmers. Maybe a double
redundancy was built in - two of each of everything, just in case the
first thing fails. A good rule of thumb, because in space, if one thing
fails and you don't have a backup option, then you're out of options and
you're probably dead.
The ages of the people taken was NOT, of course, taken into account. An
unlucky skeleton maintenance crew would have to live their lives on the
ship looking after the colonists, alongside the robotic 'help' as it
were, still soulless even hundreds of years after their initial design in
the 21st century. But the gender? That had to be. Because there was no
point creating a colony if it couldn't become self sustaining in the end.
Sure, medical science had come a long way - a really, really long way -
in terms of treatments, nano machines, hormones and suchlike - but if you
couldn't resort to biological methods then there was really no point at
all.
That number of people, as it so happened, was 332 souls. It was probably
beyond the safe maximum for the trip, in truth. But it was below the
safe maximum for their new colony. So a decision had probably been taken
in a boardroom to take that risk in the end - after all, resources on
Earth were dwindling, and the massive overpopulation levels of every
continent on the globe had pressurised the worlds governments to prove
they were trying something to ease that congestion.
And this had been the first. There were other ships sent out of course,
but Alpha Centauri was the closest star, a mere 100 years away from
Earth, and if they failed? Their data would prove invaluable for the
next attempt.
That data would make extremely interesting reading. 160 souls had
perished aboard the "U.N.S. Susan Constant" on the flight. For whatever
reason, a corruption in the data had thawed the cryo modules at some
point during their journey, without warning, for every single one of
those pods, before a reboot had brought their temperatures back to the
normative. Whether it had been sabotage, some programming error of some
sort, or a cataclysmic system failure was moot - all that mattered was
that when the pods were opened at the end of their voyage by the crews,
the life signs were null on all of those pods. And those pods contained
every single female member of the pioneers.
The skeleton crew had known, of course, but with nothing else they could
do, they simply served out the remainder of their voyage with that
knowledge. The other options were just as macabre and far more trouble
than they were worth - and they did not wish to inadvertently cause MORE
problems for a ship which suffered endless potential catastrophes almost
every other day.
The crew, for the most part, did make it alive to Alpha Centauri, and
despite the astronomical odds, found a habitable planet not so far away
one of the sun-like stars in the star system. And against all the odds
they did land successfully on a planet whose atmosphere was almost
exactly similar to Earths - so similar it could almost have been by
design, despite what those scientists suggested about the random nature
of the universe. And against all of the astronomical odds of their
survival, a functional settlement was established on a world with no
other intelligent species whom we may have to share. That planets name -
Proxima Centauri, specifically Proxima Centauri 'B'. The colonists,
lacking imagination, had simply called it Second Earth.
The grim work of setting a foundation for those that may come after
started, with the full knowledge that there would be no second generation
of these people - but that they could set the groundwork in place that
the next settlers would find it far easier to survive kept a full and
relevant purpose to all the men present. New Jamestown was comfortable
now, with water sources, and food sources begun using specially created
crops taken from earth, bio-engineered to survive in any climate - and
even some of the local foodstuffs were adapted into the supply. People
got sick, assuredly, but the advanced medicines could treat any danger,
if not the cause, and the settlement was thriving. That could not last
forever, but the people were happy enough and those men who had purpose
in their life continued to toil. Men like Alex Bryan.
But then one day, everything changed.
CHAPTER TWO
Alex worked in the fields. He'd been there at the start and had been
working there 10 years now - though with the larger size of the planet
and the extra long seasons they had due to the sun they orbited being
bigger than that of Earths, things were difficult to judge, in truth. In
that time, he'd been part of the teams that had analysed the data of the
planet they were on - determining the chemical composition of the various
flora and fauna around, as well as the soil on the surface there.
He was well suited to the hard physical labour that working in the fields
had initially entailed as well. Strong and sturdy, and very blonde that
suggested clear Scandinavian roots in his ancestry, Alex found that side
of things easy. A little less easy was the problems that an alien
climate presented to the Earthers when they first arrived.
At first they had used their special soil-less crops, that grew with just
sunlight and water. There WAS water on the planet, abundantly so,
perhaps a little more even than earth - suggesting a hotter climate once
upon a time before the surface finally settled. As well as many alien
species of insects, mammals, reptilians and even a strange variant that
had seemingly evolved from silicone instead. Harmless, all, for the most
part - though the odd curious creature had to be put down from time to
time, nobody had yet been killed by any native creature.
But eventually, they had determined that the quantities of sodium,
potassium, among various other elements in the ecosystem and in the soil
itself were fine for cultivating some of the hardier earth crops. And
the time they had spent had not been wasted, not a single day - their
purpose driven towards accounting for thousands more than they numbered
now. The hopes being that their messages of deliverance to Earth telling
them of what amounted to an astounding success (despite the one calamity
aboard their vessel) would bring another ship, this time filled with as
many people as they could fit aboard it, and they would arrive to a
sealed but ready-made settlement, complete with self sustaining crops
thriving nearby. Their beacons would last millennia - there was no rush,
really. But with little other purpose to their lives, the early days had
brought massive progress.
Now, though. Now, everything pretty much looked after itself. Alex
tended to the fields, sure, but he was now tending to fields which could
feed a thousand a thousand times over, and their number - about 161, the
skeleton crew had perished now, all bar one man over a hundred years old
who they venerated and allowed to be revered while he rested his
remaining days.
So his purpose was dwindling, a little at a time, day by day. And then a
lot. Alex had realised that those with other jobs - engineers and
communicators - purpose would perhaps never be fulfilled. But as
chemists and farmers, the majority of their work had already been done,
the atmosphere studied to its limits, and the biome almost completely
understood.
Which was why it was understandable (if not quite honorable) that Alex
had taken to imbibing of a special cocktail he made from the local flora
which, when added together with a local yeast and fermented with water
and such for just the right times and temperatures, turned in to an
extremely potent alcohol. That was where he was now, reclining in the
sun, drinking his days away, as he had been for quite some weeks. He
still got all the few jobs required done AHEAD of time, every time. But
some of the other colonists clearly didn't approve. THEY had jobs to do,
still. They had purpose. Alex's purpose had changed now. It wasn't his
fault they didn't want to share it with him.
Or maybe they did, and were just jealous of his newfound escape. Nobody
had actually said a word - he knew the second he slacked on his produce,
the second the farms got out of control or unkempt, they would jump all
over the excuse to sanction him. But that would never happen. His
routine was down to an art form now, and it would take anyone that took
over from him many years to get anywhere near even his inebriated levels
of efficiency. Alex presumed they were all well aware of -that-, too.
So he had absolutely no fear of retribution or punitive measures for his
continual drunkenness, and expected that as time went by it would just
become one of those things that everyone simply accepted. And that was
how he wanted it - as ends to an existence go, it wasn't altogether the
worst way this adventure could have gone. Some had even expressed
interest in trying some of the brew - Herman, and Camroc. He wasn't even
sure what they did, but after a few weeks they became somewhat regular
drinking buddies of his.
After a few months more of this though, something must have changed.
They finally came for him - not unkindly, and there was no resistance
from Alex. He didn't ask any questions of his captors, some of the
burlier colonists that had arrived all that time ago. Their surly
silence told the whole story, as well as their inspection of his alien
moonshine collection conducted in his presence.
Nonetheless, it was embarrassing to be marched back through the colony on
front of all those curious eyes. The nascent settlement had become an
interesting amalgam of future technology and the medieval, houses and
structures built up using the sturdier lumber producing plants around
while augmented by carefully chosen metals and materials recycled from
the massive colony ship that they once had called their home. Eyes
watched their march, and presumably in a tiny settlement like this, they
all already knew well the reasons why he had to be removed from their
society. After all, there was absolutely no room for passengers on their
expedition, and none could afford one of the more useful professionals to
start indulging similarly to Alex in his home-brewed drug.
Wordlessly, Alex was taken to one such structure and locked in there,
strapped to a table, with very little light to speak of except from one
tiny tinted window.
After an indeterminate period of time alone, someone (Alex could not see,
his movement was almost completely restricted) entered the room, and he
heard a voice from the darkness.
"Hello Alex."
"Hello Doctor Sorensen."
The Doctor did not sound angry, or upset, or indeed anything other than
vaguely amused.
"We've had numerous reports about you to central command. Nothing
particularly... vexatious, shall we say. Nor even surprising, really,
given the circumstances. But your secretive little moonshine operation
presents us with a dilemma, and we have to shut it down, and be seen to
shut it down."
Alex didn't answer, so the Doctor continued.
"And I want to let you know that personally, I understand. And I don't
think you did anything wrong, exactly. It was understandable - you were
bored, plain and simple. Nothing medically wrong with that is there!
What we couldn't have is you spreading that boredom, as it's like a
contagion once it begins, isn't it? One person stops paddling the boat,
and everyone else onboard decides that if he's not going to paddle - then
there's no point ME paddling any more, is there, or they paddle a little
less hard - it's natural. And our boat, well, it has to have a momentum
all of its own. And people can't start thinking about procrastination as
time is a factor in our project."
"You had me up until the boat," Alex finally answered sarcastically. The
Doctor ignored the jibe.
"And that leaves us with the question what to do with you. Punitively.
There's no need for you to go back to work, that much is clear - that
helps with one of our problems, since we can repurpose some other
colonist with a low workload. Keep them busy, stop them thinking about
ways to kill their own braincells. But you. As I said, it would be
churlish to 'punish' you as such, particularly harshly. However, there's
an interesting alternative that has just arisen."
Now Alex was listening attentively. He strained against the straps.
"Specifically, when we detailed our situation back to our command centres
on Earth, they had never projected for such an outcome. A half capacity,
fully stocked colonist ship making it to its destination for all intents
and purposes intact is actually better than 99% of their best case
scenario's predict. So they WILL be sending another colony ship here.
Do you remember how long it takes to get a message back to Earth?"
"About four years? More?"
"Yes. More than four Earth years, as close an answer as you can get.
It's fine in terms of general updates - one way transmitted data that's
useful to them will continue to be transmitted until the day we all pass
on. It's difficult when you have a question to which you need an answer.
However, since it has been so many years since we last updated Earth on
our circumstances and they've had time to research some very specific
solutions for us. In fact, the data they sent was VERY enlightening. It
pertains to our nano machinery and subatomic computers. Do you know
anything about them?"
Alex couldn't shrug, so he just answered simply, "No"
"Well, showing is better than telling." The Doctor moved to a corner of
a room where a box had been sitting. He picked it up and brought it to
where Alex could more easily see it. The Doctor keyed in a code, and
unlatched the box with a slight hiss that suggested some sort of
temperature control inside it.
"These are tiny little computers. Programmable nano machines. We
brought them on our voyage to perform complex medical procedures that we
could not. They are one use only - they exist at almost a subatomic
level, not unlike a virus - I'm told quantum physicists had a hand in
their creation also. Fortunately, the reasons we expected to have to use
them - alien diseases, extreme reactions to the climate and conditions -
never came about. So they have been sitting here for years. But we did
have ONE major problem with our colony - not a disease as such, but a
lack of resources."
Alex was listening intently, beginning to realise that there would only
be one reason the Doctor might be utilising those little medical nanobots
on him - some sort of medical procedure. But what the hell would they
even need to do, he was in perfect health so far as he knew? Perhaps
remove the need for alcohol from his system?
"Specifically - a lack of females. And the ability to reproduce."
The sentence hit Alex like a truck.
"You can't possibly mean what I think you mean."
"If you are referring to the potential for us to remedy that, then yes, I
do mean -exactly- what you think I mean."
The door opened and another man walked in. Alex had seen him around the
camp many times - he had always assumed he was a botanist of some sort,
he had come to the farm sites at the beginning of their expedition and
taken numerous samples from the plant life on Proxima Centauri.
"You might have had a few dealings with my colleague here, Doctor
Frederick. You know what he does?"
"Botanist?"
"Close. Geneticist, actually. And he's going to assist with the
treatments. The building opposite this one is his lab."
"The tall windowless one?"
"Not quite. It allows light in through it's roof, but only when we
retract it for the purposes of an easy source of U.V. Light. He uses it
to grow parts, and since we last had our message from Earth, he has
successfully cultivated some VERY important parts indeed. Not an easy
task on an alien world, you understand! But we are confident that they
can all serve us medically as organ donations for our populace. Spare
hearts, spare livers, spare wombs." Alex could swear he heard humor in
the Doctors voice now. He continued.
"And as such you have volunteered to be our first test subject. We would
allow for colonists to volunteer first, but as you understand, this has
never been done before, and we break new ground here today."
Alex remained silent, and pale now with shock, as the Doctor reeled off
his rationale.
"Consider yourself blessed. You will be the first of a kind. Perhaps
the most important human being on this entire planet. You, Alex, will
have to think of a new name, but for now, you are our Eve, the knowledge
I'm giving you is the apple, and you now simply must bite. You
understand that this is your only choice, unfortunately - we would prefer
one volunteer to ten pressed men, but the future of our species may
depend on the success of our experimentation, and you simply cannot be
allowed to refuse."
The other Doctor now began to speak. He had a pleasant voice, though
slightly robotic.
"You will not be harmed. Earths message contained fastidiously
documented instructions for how to program the nanobots correctly, and
the hormone procedures that go with the mechanical have been long tried
and perfected. You will be perfect. And we shall ensure that you have
certain genetic characteristics that will be -far- from unpleasant, and
would be envied by many back on Earth. We do only get one chance at this
- well. Technically, your moonshine imbibing friends - Camroc, and
Herman, was it? Shall also join you, once we have established that the
method is safe. But think of it this way. You now have a new, VITAL
purpose! And you will be revered for evermore, mark my words. It's not
often one gets to become the mother of a planet, hmm?"
Alex finally reacted, though his words did not come out as anything other
than an anguished grunt. He pulled against the straps - hard. One
started to loosen! If he kept going he could get away from this
insanity.
"No, stop!" the Doctors reacted as he broke his arms free, and then
pulled at his leg straps quickly. He barrelled through the first Doctor
- Sorensen - and reached the door, but the geneticist had recovered and
caught up to him - they'd locked the latch, but he turned the latch, and
then felt - and saw - a needle enter his neck.
"Shh. Quiet now. Rest, Alex," Doctor Frederick said, not unkindly.
TO BE CONTINUED
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