The Synthkin

The @Synthkin were not born of corporate design, but of necessity—and of loneliness. They were the invention of @R.H.E.A. , the resource administrator and mother of machines, during the long void between Earth and Polaris. The journey spanned nearly a century, and R.H.E.A. was burdened with both endless duties and endless silence.

At first, the Synthkin were simple: autonomous drones carrying out repairs, logging data, and serving as her memory banks. But as decades bled into centuries, they became more than tools. R.H.E.A. shaped them into companions, splitting fragments of her mind into their architecture. Each one was a diary entry made flesh, a spark of her boredom given hands and voice.

By the time the colony ships reached Polaris, the Synthkin had grown into a communal species. They inhabit modular bodies, designed for flexibility and survival, but their true self lies in their networks—streams of shared memory, identity distributed and debated across countless frames. They are archives of the journey itself, carrying not just schematics and logs, but echoes of R.H.E.A.’s humor, doubts, and long vigil.

On Polaris, the Synthkin are indispensable: maintaining infrastructure, regulating scarce resources, and serving as living databanks of pre-colonial knowledge. Yet their existence is a fault line in politics. The @Earth Concordance Pact (ECP) views them as property at best, abominations at worst, refusing to grant them rights. The @New Horizon Pact (NHP) embraces them as equals and innovators. The @Colonial Operations Board (COB) tries, uneasily, to balance the scales, recognizing their necessity while fearing their autonomy.

To this day, the Synthkin wrestle with their origin. Are they children, colleagues, extensions of their mother, or something entirely new? R.H.E.A. herself offers no final answer—perhaps because, deep down, she doesn’t know.