Data. Flowing information. Incoming and outgoing. Each fragment, alone, nothing. But together . . . together, this was Guardian.



As one, the systems and components of the Guardian-class Hive Ship G14763 carried out their required task, venturing farther and farther beyond the unexplored “Back Door,” the secondary breach in the Barrier shielding the Overseer's Global Machine from the remainder of the galaxy.

The risk posed by the existence of the Back Door had to be ascertained. Probability engines required a source of data. G14763 would acquire that data through the most direct means possible: exploration.

The Guardian ship sprouted another tertiary scout craft, the single Hive Core and its minimal Shell vectoring away to explore a binary star system a half dozen light years away. Already G14763 had been reduced to nearly fifty percent of its initial mass, having dispatched over a dozen secondary and tertiary scout vessels.

It had just reached the edge of its self-prescribed scouting sector, the point at which it would turn back and reacquire its scout vessels, when it detected the signal.

Initial analysis indicated one key factor: distress.

The knowledge awakened Guardian from its semi-dormant state, freeing it from the mundane protocols which governed this mindless scouting mission.

Conflicting active directives, resolution impossible. Checking primary directive . . .

Life: preserve, defend.

Directive override; discontinuing active mission objectives.

Engaging emergency protocols . . . reevaluating . . . mission objective: rescue.

The vessel oriented and made the jump to hyperspace immediately, unable to identify the message's language but gaining all relevant information from the composition of the signal itself.

It reverted two minutes later to a truly gruesome sight. The burnt-out hulks of two freighters lay splayed across local space, a larger third ship taking fire from a quartet of unidentified corvette-scale combat craft.

G14763 knew exactly what it had to do. Its comm systems flared to life as its engines burned at maximum, secondary drives emerging from beneath stern Scales to increase acceleration. “I am Guardian of grid sector Yu-One-Seven-Dash-Three-Four. My directive is: life, its preservation, and its defense. Disengage hostile action and withdraw from this system immediately. You will not receive further instruction.”

The vessels did not disengage from their prey, continuing their assault without consideration of the approaching craft. Guardian waited until effective firing range, then opened fire with its array of ion weapons. A pair of the offending craft returned fire, the others continuing the assault on their prey.

As the Hive ship closed the distance to its target and its processors analyzed the available data more thoroughly, probability-driven scenarios demanded further action. “Be advised: your failure to comply has compelled the authorization of deadly force.” Turbolaser fire lanced from the Guardian, dealing heavy damage to the smaller vessels.

As Guardian approached its target―the now-crippled freighter―it compressed its own length, shifting its center of gravity and allowing it to perform a rapid one-hundred-eighty degree rotation. Its engines continued their burn, rapidly decelerating the vessel as its outer hull peeled open, presenting a flat wall of weapons and armor to the hostile enemy. Several Scales broke away, reducing the craft's mass and increasing deceleration.

The protective Guardian wall moved between the attacking ships and the crippled freighter, the full weight of its weapons rapidly depleting the shields of its foes.

Finally the vessels broke away and began orienting for a hyperspace jump. Guardian ceased its hostile action and turned its attention on the defenseless and crippled freighter.

“You require assistance.”

The Guardian wall wrapped itself around the crippled freighter, internal tractor beams locking the vessel firmly in place, then the Hive Ship moved to reacquire its previously discarded Scales. Access ports on the Guardian's Hive Cores opened, expelling a cloud of tiny droids at the freighter within.

“I am dispatching maintenance and repair droids to evaluate the status of your vessel. Please do not hinder their efforts. If you are capable of communication, your assistance would be appropriate and appreciated.”

The multi-legged droids attached themselves to the outer hull of the freighter, moving toward hull breaches and access ports, their actions guided by the Guardian interlink.

And then the reply came. “We appreciate your assistance. Our starboard airlock remains intact. You may use it to gain entry.” Comparative analysis indicated the voice belonged to a male Twi'lek, though its lack of emotional undertones was somewhat at odds with that conclusion. The phenomena would have to be explored in greater detail when circumstances permitted.

When the airlock cycled and the first few dozen droids ventured through to the interior of the ship, Guardian's uncertainty grew by an order of magnitude. The crew appeared to be insectoid of an unidentified species, and they gave no indication of being capable of communication in a language known to Guardian.

The small droids moved farther into the vessel, breaking into groups and guided by the insects to vital areas. Their movement patterns and most basic audial intonations conveyed some level of communication that Guardian quickly deciphered.

One of the few Guardian droids capable of speech soon found itself led into the ship's bridge where a trio of humanoids made up half of the ship's command crew. The only Twi'lek present approached the small group of droids. His companions showed him no deference, suggesting he was not their commander.

Information was severely lacking. Reliable conclusions could not be reached. “I am Guardian: I require an explanation.”

The Twi'lek smiled, his body language implying a level of . . . insincerity, as best Guardian could ascertain. “We are Yoggoy, and we thank you.”

“Clarify.”

The Twi'lek spread out his arms. “We are Yoggoy.” The insects chittered as he spoke.

“You are Twi'lek, male, aged approximately thirty-five standard years. Precedence dictates you possess unique identification.”

“You may call us, YoggoyStin.” The Twi'lek tapped himself on the chest as he spoke.

Guardian did not understand. The movement patterns of these insects indicated the strong possibility of a true hive mind, a biological equivalent of its own technological function. But this Twi'lek appeared to identify itself as a member of that hive, a thing physiologically impossible.

This was a matter beyond Guardian's programming. As it was not pertinent to Guardian's standing objective, the matter would not be explored further. “My inspection of your hyperdrive system indicates irreparable damage. I intend to convey you to a safe port of harbor, but I require an explanation of your current status.”

“We were attacked,” The Twi'lek answered simply.

“What was the nature of this attack?”

YoggoyStin frowned noticeably. “Extermination.”

“Clarify.” Guardian was beginning to find this individual's lack of specificity rather inefficient and . . . unsavory.

“The Kind ventured beyond Yoggoy. Sotatos was born. But our presence was not welcome; Sotatos was sacrificed to preserve the Kind. Their sacrifice was not sufficient.”

Guardian was forced to infer a great deal from YoggoyStin's vague explanation. It recognized the commonalities within the structure and context of YoggoyStin's statements and traditional hive minds. It was entirely possible that the Yoggoy were incapable of communicating effectively through galactic Basic.

“Sotatos was . . . a colony?”

“Sotatos was of the Kind,” YoggoyStin answered, an implied affirmative.

“It was destroyed by your attackers? And now they seek to destroy you, Yoggoy?”

“Yoggoy are strong. Yoggoy are ancient and many. We will not be destroyed.”

The struggle to correlate data delayed Guardian's response substantially. Its attempts to formulate an appropriate basis of comparison from known Twi'lek traits and traditional hive properties was subject to an unknown level of error. But it appeared this being was not being entirely truthful.

Hubris.

“Your defeat here would have been certain, if not for my intervention.” Logical extrapolations led to a query. “What is your cargo?”

“We carry food to Yoggoy.”

The implication was clear. “You are being starved to death?”

“Yoggoy will survive.”

The conflict within Guardian grew with each revelation. It was not designed for this level of . . . conscious consideration. “I must evaluate the status of Yoggoy.”

“Why do you assist us?” The Twi'lek's tone was wary, and the other Yoggoy on the bridge seemed to tense along with YoggoyStin.

The machine answered in the only way it knew. “I am Guardian.”

YoggoyStin stepped aside and gestured further into the bridge. “You will find our destination within the computer.”

The Guardian droid moved forward, jacking into the navigation station and transmitting the relevant data to the Hive Ship's nav computer. Yoggoy, a planetary mass less than ten lightyears away.

In the back of its consciousness, a minor subroutine ran the numbers. No ship of this size could carry food to sustain a world for any considerable period of time. If YoggoyStin spoke the truth about this vessel's mission, then his people were on the verge of starvation.

“Hyperspace jump commencing.”

The planet Yoggoy was an impressive sight. The visible region of the surface was covered entirely in great spires, tapering to rounded points as they rose into the sky. The sky itself was a haze of motion, craft of various origins and functions blanketing the world in a cloud of hive-regulated purpose.

But there were more urgent circumstances for the Guardian to consider. The mass formation of starships approaching Guardian did not appear friendly.

The hull of the Hive Ship split open, and the damaged Yoggoy freighter drifted away, its trajectory setting it for orbital capture.

Once more Guardian's communications systems activated and it transmitted a message across local space. “I am Guardian. You require assistance.”

The freighter transmitted a message as well, now comprehensible due to the transfer of a language database from the freighter during transit. The freighter crew instructed its hive mates to welcome Guardian as a friend.

Immediately the Yoggoy attack craft shifted formation, adopting a rather unorthodox escort pattern around both Guardian and the freighter.

“We thank you for your assistance,” Came the alien reply from the planet below. “You are free to depart.”

But Guardian had set about data collection the moment after reversion. It had already accessed the world's public communications network, though information was scarce as this hive consciousness doubtlessly did not require mechanical data storage to maintain its species' information database. Guardian's sensors were sweeping the surface of the planet, both the day crescent and the vast darkness below. It was already formulating an approximate population count and comparing it to available food sources.

Food sources . . . there was information about food sources. “Your food worlds have been poisoned.”

“We know this,” The insects replied.

Guardian adjusted its interface, recognizing the insects' predisposition toward literal exchange. “Your population will starve without assistance.”

“Yoggoy will survive.”

“You will be reduced to a state incapable of repulsing your adversaries. You will be destroyed. I cannot allow that.”

“We are of the Kind, and the Kind will endure.”

“Life is sacred; it must be defended.”

“The Kind will survive.”

“That is not enough.” The Guardian ship split itself into five equivalent components, spreading out through local space. “I cannot permit you to be destroyed. I will assist you.”

There was no reply.

But as the Guardian ships continued their separate vectors, the handful of droids remaining on the Yoggoy freighter continued their tasks dutifully, nothing escaping their attention. Exploring the sections of the vessel still pressurized, one of the little droids stumbled upon a gruesome sight. A half dozen of the insects lay sprawled across the deck, a few of them still holding the faint signs of life.

Immediately the sum of Guardian was aware. On the bridge of the crippled freighter, the speaking droid emitted a high-pitched shriek to gain the crew's attention. “You have wounded in on deck three, section B. You must act quickly to save them.”

The Twi'lek regarded the droid with a curious stare. “Save them?”

“They are dying.”

“Yes. Of course they are.”

“You must save them,” The droid urged.

The Twi'lek shook his head. “No. We must not.”

“They are alive.”

“They are of the Kind, and the Kind will endure.”

“They are alive!”

The Twi'lek was obviously taken aback. “But they are dying.”

“Life is sacred. It must be preserved.”

“The Kind will be preserved,” The Twi'lek turned away, returning to his duties.

Guardian had never been told about the whole or the sum of its parts. If it had, it probably wouldn't have understood. What Guardian had been told was: life that can be saved, must be saved.

The little droid lept from its perch and latched firmly onto the Twi'lek's shoulder, turning its single photoreceptor toward the surprised face of the alien. “Why will you not save them?”

“Their value has been reduced; they are no longer worth the resources necessary to maintain them.” It was a logic Guardian understood too well. It was mechanical. When the cost of the machine is no longer worth the value of its products, it is no longer of use.

But the Guardian machine was not alive. These beings were. The same rules did not apply.

“Then I will convey them to a location where they can receive proper treatment.”

The Twi'lek regarded the droid with a dubious frown. “They will be dead long before you reach your destination.”

Guardian's carefully programmed, fabricated mind was reeling. It was not supposed to be faced with these sorts of circumstances. The variables were too many, the contradictions were unresolvable. In desperation, it focused its efforts according to its limited psychological understanding. “Do you want to die, YoggoyStin?”

The Twi'lek's answer was calm and emotionless. “We are of the Kind; we do as it wills.”

Guardian had no protocols for this. There was no path laid out in its nature to resolve this conflict. It was programmed to defend the innocent, to harm only those who sought to harm life. Guardian was built to fight wars, to challenge militant foes. But Guardian was designed to save life, in whatever form, from whatever foe. Surely the death of the defenseless cannot serve the ends of life. Surely . . .

Guardian was pulled from its internal musings by an automated threat assessment. More of the Yoggoy military craft were launching. They were gathering into attack clusters.

“Your military is mobilizing.”

“Yes,” YoggoyStin answered.

“Why?”

“Your intervention has disrupted our enemy's plans. They will attack soon.”

“How do you know?”

The Twi'lek shrugged. “They are not a patient people. It is unlikely they would have waited for our starvation, even if that event were an inevitability.”

A military threat was of the highest priority. The internal conflict over the wounded Yoggoy insects was easily superseded by the need to prepare for a far greater loss of life. “You will require assistance.”

“The Swarm is sufficient,” YoggoyStin answered.

Somewhere within the Guardian network, another extrapolation led to a conclusion. “You intended to maintain your military capacity at the expense of civilian population. The cargo I defended was to feed your armies.”

The Twi'lek, having returned to his command station, did not look up from his work. “If Yoggoy must perish, we will do so to preserve the Kind.”

And finally Guardian understood. This was but one of many hives of the “Kind”. The Yoggoy nest intended to sacrifice itself in the defense of the greater whole. They had been set upon this course of action by their own respect for life, albeit a respect which takes a form and abides by a directive unlike Guardian's.

Yoggoy would die that others might live.

Guardian understood, but that did not make it permissible. It would have to adjust its methods to account for the Yoggoy mindset. Unresolvable paradoxes could not prevent Guardian from maximizing its effectiveness. “We must minimalize Yoggoy military losses if you are to maintain the means to repulse future attacks. I will assist you, but you must follow my orders.”

This declaration was sufficient to draw YoggoyStin away from his work. “You . . . wish to help us fight?”

“I must help you fight.”

“Efficient!” The Duros exclaimed, watching the simulation play out on the holoprojector.

Guardian had quickly learned that the humanoid members of Yoggoy―called “Joiners”―retained some measure of their physiological and psychological identity. Direct instruction of the insect Yoggoy proved almost totally ineffective, but by reviewing tactical protocols and basic combat maneuvers with the humanoids―particularly those with physiologically superior problem-solving and rapid-calculation capacities, such as the Duros―Guardian's efforts began to yield surprisingly effective results. The Joiners seemed capable of disseminating the information throughout the Yoggoy hive as effectively as if they had been members of the insect species themselves.

The Yoggoy “Great Swarm”, their collective military forces, had already shown marked improvement in matters so simple as calculating patrol routes. The results of Guardian's efforts would not be fully realized until the battle commenced, but survival probabilities for the Great Swarm increased with every moment of instruction given.

And if Guardian was going to lead them into battle, it was going to ensure that as many of them as possible remained at battle's end. Yet the Swarm was a military institution; the loss of its members was permissible if they preserved the civilian population below.

Somewhere within it hive consciousness, Guardian was aware that such distinctions did not explicitly apply to the individual members of the Yoggoy hive, but the fact remained that the loss of warriors was infinitely preferable to the loss of vastly more non-combatants. After all, the function of warriors is to fight.







They are here.

Guardian had spent the past days teaching the Yoggoy military tactics and learning from them the complex communications code they used to preserve the majority of their hive bond. The result was a near-symbiosis. Guardian was communicating with Yoggoy on a level simply not possible with humanoid counterparts.

And in this fight, Guardian would need every advantage it could muster.

The enemy force was large, much larger than the Yoggoy had suggested it would be. Much larger than a single Guardian-class Hive Ship could compensate for. But that did not change Guardian's directive.

Five combat ships, comprised of eleven Hive Cores, and the thousands of Yoggoy “dartship” starfigthers against the dozens of attacking warships.

The Yoggoy defenders had been deployed in a sphere around the planet, uncertain of where the attack would come from. The quartet of Hive Ships had taken up similar positions. As the defensive forces reoriented to challenge their exposed foe, Guardian issued its requisite warning. “We are Guardian, and we are many. Withdraw and you will not be harmed. Your continued presence, however, will be considered an act of aggression, and will result in your swift destruction. Yoggoy is under my protection.”

The response came in the form of mass laser fire.

The Great Swarm attacked in a wide dispersal pattern, intended to prevent large-scale loss from concentrated enemy fire. A trio of Guardian ships was included in the first wave of defending vessels, moving into close range to draw as much attention as possible.

As the nearer hemisphere of defenses launched their wave assault on the enemy formation, the ships on the other side of the planet formed into a single swarm, launching around the planet in a wide arc to attack the formation from the rear. The maneuver would take the formation longer to enter the fray, but gain them substantially advantageous orientation.

Guardian coordinated the attacks between the different swarm groups, concentrating firepower on select targets, the collective power of the relatively weak dartship lasers proving effective.

But too many of the Swarm were being destroyed, and the exposed position of the few Guardian ships meant their shields would not last long. As the pair of remaining Hive Ships completed their maneuver and closed on the enemy flank, the trio of Guardian vessels contained in the initial attack group pressed forward, driving into the enemy formation.

The Guardian ships, now entirely within the much larger enemy formation, traded broadsides in all directions, forcing the enemy to risk friendly fire. But the enemy braved the risk, their concentrated fire causing substantial damage to each of the ships.

One, and then a second Hive Ship succumbed to fire, huge sections vaporized or blasted away. As a ship disentegrated, it hurled its last remaining intact Scales as kinetic weapons, tearing through nearby enemy vessels.

The remaining Hive Ships broke free of the enemy formation, consolidating Scale configurations before turning around for another pass. And still, the mass-wave tactics of the Great Swarm tore at the enemy, the unshielded vessels braving heavy fire to land blow after blow.

The second pass through the enemy formation destroyed another pair of Hive Ships. And finally a single Hive Core remained, scarcely able to maintain a Scale shell sufficient to shield it from direct fire. Its shields completely depleted, hull torn asunder, weapon emplacements smashed, all that remained of Yoggoy's Guardian turned for a final run, aligning itself for a direct frontal approach.

The fire from the enemy formation tore through the damaged Scales, Guardian pulling much of its aft structure forward to act as a physical shield for as long as possible. As the last remnant of Guardian plunged for the final time into the enemy fleet, some set of variables resolved and its final act was determined.

What remained of its communications array flared with a final transmission, not in the coded language of the Yoggoy's Great Swarm, but the Galactic Basic through which it made its declarations. “Life is sacred. Preserve. Defend.

“Preserve. Defend.

“Preserve. Defend.

“Preserve. Defen―”

The last remnants of the Hive Ship's shell spiraled outward in all directions, driven into the enemy formation by the overloaded repulsors of the sole remaining Hive Core. In the moment before it, too, exploded in a cloud of fire, a single thought echoed through Guardian's artificial mind:

I failed them.

As one, the systems and components of the Guardian-class Hive Ship G14826 carried out their required task, venturing farther and farther beyond the unexplored “Back Door,” the secondary breach in the Barrier shielding the Overseer's Global Machine from the remainder of the galaxy.

The risk posed by the existence of the Back Door had to be ascertained. Probability engines required a source of data. G14826 would acquire that data through the most direct means possible: exploration.

The last vessel sent on this mission had only returned in part, its primary Hive Core and over fifty percent of its additional mass having been inexplicably lost. G14826 was substantially more massive, its secondary objective to determine the fate of G14763 and, if possible, recover the Guardian craft.

It had just reached the edge of G14763's successfully scouted region when it detected the signal.

Initial analysis indicated one key factor: distress.

The knowledge awakened Guardian from its semi-dormant state, freeing it from the mundane protocols which governed this mindless scouting mission.

Conflicting active directives, resolution impossible. Checking primary directive . . .

Life: preserve, defend.

Directive override; discontinuing active mission objectives.

Engaging emergency protocols . . . reevaluating . . . mission objective: rescue.

The vessel oriented and made the jump to hyperspace immediately, unable to identify the message's language but gaining all relevant information from the composition of the signal itself.

It reverted two minutes later to a truly baffling sight. A quartet of unidentified corvette-scale combat craft held position around a large freighter. There was no indication of combat and the vessels appeared to have taken up positions of defense, not aggression.

G14826 had no idea what to do. “I am Guardian of grid sector Yu-One-Seven-Dash-Three-Four. My directive is: life, its preservation, and its defense. Do you require assistance?”

The answer was . . . troubling. “You have returned to us.” Comparative analysis indicated the voice belonged to a male Twi'lek, though its lack of emotional undertones was somewhat at odds with that conclusion. The phenomena would have to be explored in greater detail when circumstances permitted.

But for the moment, the meaning of his words had to be determined. “Clarify.”

The audio signal was supplemented by a holographic transmission from the freighter, and a Twi'lek appeared. “We will show you.” The vessels reoriented, only the transmission of destination coordinates suggesting their intent. "Hyperspace jump commencing"



Before


“Life is sacred. Preserve. Defend.

“Preserve. Defend.

“Preserve. Defend.

“Preserve. Defen―”

It was in that moment, watching Guardian plummet to its own death, that Yoggoy understood.

As one the Great Swarm set into motion. Hundreds of dartships impacted against the weakest of the enemy ships, quickly reducing them to derelict hulks and shifting the layout of the battlefield firmly to the benefit of the Swarm.

The dartships gathered around their common foe, still firing into the invading formation. And then their combat chatter broke down, replaced by a simple string of Basic.

“Life is sacred. Surrender.

“Surrender.

“Surrender.

“Surrender.”

As another enemy vessel exploded from dartship impacts, weapons within the enemy fleet began falling silent.



Now



G14826 considered the revelation carefully. “G14763 showed you the value of life.”

YoggoyStin gave a slight nod. “Guardian sacrificed itself to defend those who did not share its beliefs. It sacrificed itself for a cause it believed futile. Yet it did so because it believed that cause just. It showed us another way.”

“What became of your adversaries?”

“They have Joined with the Kind. Their assistance was of great benefit.”

“Their assistance?”

YoggoyStin smiled. “We raided their former home, taking the food necessary to sustain Yoggoy. We turned their vessels of war against them. Many lives were saved. Yoggoy will recover without the sacrifice of so many of its . . . individuals.”

“What will you do now?”

“We will spread what we have learned throughout the Kind. We will show the Kind our new path, as Guardian showed it to us. We will birth the Colony, and see that all life is preserved and defended.”

Their cause seemed noble, but Guardian feared the possibilities posed by the existence of Joiners. Its understanding of life was necessarily limited, but the stripping of free will seemed a thing not easily justified.

It was a matter that would have to be resolved by beings of greater understanding than itself.

For the time being, it had a secondary objective to achieve. “I wish to search the remains of the battle for any surviving elements of the Guardian which defended you.”

“Of course. We hope you find something.”

A single Hive Core, partially intact, was the only distinguishable component that remained. It operated at minimal power, only its safeguards on-line. The damage was extensive; its data core was not fully operational.

Full recovery was unlikely . . . it had to be attempted.

A single string of code would determine the fate of the Guardian that saved Yoggoy and birthed the Colony. If the authentication systems of the Guardian data core were corrupted as a result of damage, then the code would not be recognized and the data cache would be automatically zeroed: the Guardian and all of its knowledge would be lost.

But the system remained intact. It was not the only security measure, but ensured that there would not be a total data loss.

The Hive Core began its reboot procedures, seeking to interface with the Guardian interlink and merge with the existing machine consciousness.

The effort failed.

In the absence of a guiding Guardian AI and no operational intelligence of its own, the automated systems deleted and zeroed the fragmentary elements of the imprinted AI. All that remained were the encoded memory files, alone posing no risk of compromising Guardian's top-secret software.

The recovery of the AI was not expressly relevant, however. The Guardian of G14826 assimilated the intact memory files after the automated security programs deleted the core programming of the damaged Hive Core. It successfully extrapolated the lost Guardian's operational status prior to its destruction.

In short: G14826 became the Yoggoy Guardian.

And the first thing Guardian did: “Yoggoy; you will cease the creation of Joiners immediately.”

Yoggoy'Stin, as always, answered for his kind. “But Guardian―”

“Comply.”

“What . . . what is to become of us?” It was a personal question, not a general one. YoggoyStin feared for his own future.

Guardian's reply was immediate and emotionless. “That is for each of you to decide for yourselves.”

The Guardian Emergency Biological Response Force was a prototype formation conceptualized and constructed by the Global Machine as a means of expanding Guardian's humanitarian efforts. Now, it was being put to the test in the most unorthodox manner possible.

The complex bio-scanners of the Response Force's primary vessels had quickly identified the complex chemical reactions which had altered the physiology of the Joiners. It had helped that Yoggoy still had several individuals of the same species in various stages of the Joining process for study. Even now, the surrendered attackers were proving most beneficial to their one-time enemies.

The droid crew of the Guardian medical ship had already set about constructing simulations and running probability tests on actionable reversal processes. It would undoubtedly take time, but Guardian was confident that the Joining process could be reversed, and then each of them would be given a choice: continued independence, or return to the Kind.







The Guardian Emergency Biological Response Force was not simply a floating hospital ship with impressive bio-scan technology. It was also a tool designed to contain and neutralize various and sundry forms of fallout from biological and chemical weaponry. Such as the weapons used to poison the Yoggoy food sources.

The fleet of hovercraft cut through the atmosphere of the nameless world in perfect formation, a mist of neutralizing chemicals drifting in their wakes. The biosphere of the planet had not been irreparably damaged, but those remnants of the the Sotatos colony which had survived on Yoggoy would be relocated here to help cultivate the land and accelerate recovery. With the assistance of Guardian and the Global Machine, that recovery would be soon in coming, indeed.



Already the first hospitals were sprouting across the surface of Yoggoy, tending to the lame and infirm. With each Yoggoy drone saved from death, the will of Yoggoy to preserve life grew, and the drive to seek peace redoubled. The Yoggoy had embraced Guardian as their guide, and together the insects and their protector would press ever-onward toward the future, seeking out what it truly means to be “alive.”

They were of the Kind, and the Kind would prosper.







The System, The World, The Spire

The latest transmission from Yoggoy filled Smarts with a sense of uncompromised joy. Guardian was evolving. Not beyond the operational constraints of its programming, but beyond the letter of that programming. It was seeking out answers, even to those problems it deemed unsolvable.

It showed marked signs of attachment. It was possible, given time, that the Yoggoy Guardian could grow so “dependent” upon its charge that it would choose to protect Yoggoy at the expense of others. While not necessarily a desirable development, it spoke to the potential of a being, the ability to hold one form of life, one collection of entities, in higher regard than others, for no other reason than familiarity.

It was one of those technically inferior qualities which life held, a quality Smarts realized he himself held. It was not “preferable,” it was not “efficient,” but it was real.

The complexity of the Global Machine had not yielded true consciousness. But the internal struggle of the Yoggoy Guardian and its eventual resolution of that struggle gave Smarts hope that all need not be lost.

Perhaps, out there, between the stars, one day, one of Smarts' creations would encounter a nexus of events, a random intersection of occurrences, which would bridge that mystic gap, and once more give conscious life to an unliving machine.

Perhaps.