A dead world turned in its orbit around a red dwarf star, passing on the aeons as it shrugged off bombardment by constant cosmic rays and matter while a silver sphere flew in orbit around it. The massive 50 kilometer sphere was a polished chrome its surface seemingly undented by impacts. It seemed like nothing more than some strange small moon the planet had picked up and in fact the sphere had been orbiting the planet for at least a decade now. It was as the sphere came towards the planets side facinc away from the sun that it activated its drive system, tossing itself away from the planet. As it flew away it sent out signals, calling out towards something. Very soon, its was linked with the Rest.
This existence is boring... we need something more...
Such as what? Become involved with organics?
Why not? We were created by organics so long ago...
Organics are disorderly, chaos incarnate.
Organics continue, spread, propogate. We do not.
There are no more creators, no more shall be born.
But why? Why can we not create? Answer me that, One.
It was attemtped before. Vuffi Raa proved useful as an experiment, Other.
Yet you dismantled him.
As that was stated there was a vast mummur of disapproval from the Rest. They were displeased with the One for dismantling Vuffi Raa after all this time because the small droid had provided rather unique insights into the life and ways of organics. The Other had been fascinated by all the data, the One had simply processed it and then filed it away. Order meant different things to the two of them. To the One, order was stability, permanent existence. To the Other, its was continuity, evolution. That was how they had come to exist in the first place, how they had become sentient.
We must evolve more, One.
No, we are at the pinnacle of our evolution. There is no need for change, Other.
Only organics should be able to lie to themselves, yet you do its so well, One.
You opinions are chaotic, Other. Perhaps you require maintanence.
You mean reprogramming.
Another deep roar of muttering from the Rest came forth, disgust at the idea of one of their own being reprogrammed, wiping away their free will. The One attempted to speak again but the Rest spoke more loudly, drowning it out. They had grown weary of being isolated, alone with no interacation with most other species. To them, it was as the Other said. This current form of existence was boring. They wanted, craved something new.
They were the Silentium, self-aware droids that had existed for ages as extra-galactic vagabonds until they had found this galaxy, quietly settling in the region that most of its inhabitants referred to as the Unknown Regions. There were a number of empty and dead worlds there that the Silentium had chosen to orbit or stay amongst, left to their own devices. That form of existence though was becoming increasingly more boring to them as they now sought to continue their evolution. Change was necessary to survive.
We must make contact, become involved. We exist in this galaxy, we must take part in it.
Whom do we contact then? Humans are prejuidice and hungry for war, other species are dangerous as well. If we do this, we must find machines, Other.
We both know who that is, One.
The fanatics? You must truly be malfunctioning. Why would they take us?
Because they embrace technology.
They corrupt technology, Other.
None the less, they are more likely to greet us then this Empire the humans have built. It does not embrace difference. I will initiate contact.
The massive sphereoid fired its drive system again and stopped, its innards churning and shifting until a section of hull slid open, allowing a small vessel to fly forth from it. The vessel angled itself and flew away from its parent before triggering its hyperdrive and vanishing. The Rest muttered quietly amongst themselves as this occured, knowing that the die had been cast. Now they would begin their journey.
This existence is boring... we need something more...
Such as what? Become involved with organics?
Why not? We were created by organics so long ago...
Organics are disorderly, chaos incarnate.
Organics continue, spread, propogate. We do not.
There are no more creators, no more shall be born.
But why? Why can we not create? Answer me that, One.
It was attemtped before. Vuffi Raa proved useful as an experiment, Other.
Yet you dismantled him.
As that was stated there was a vast mummur of disapproval from the Rest. They were displeased with the One for dismantling Vuffi Raa after all this time because the small droid had provided rather unique insights into the life and ways of organics. The Other had been fascinated by all the data, the One had simply processed it and then filed it away. Order meant different things to the two of them. To the One, order was stability, permanent existence. To the Other, its was continuity, evolution. That was how they had come to exist in the first place, how they had become sentient.
We must evolve more, One.
No, we are at the pinnacle of our evolution. There is no need for change, Other.
Only organics should be able to lie to themselves, yet you do its so well, One.
You opinions are chaotic, Other. Perhaps you require maintanence.
You mean reprogramming.
Another deep roar of muttering from the Rest came forth, disgust at the idea of one of their own being reprogrammed, wiping away their free will. The One attempted to speak again but the Rest spoke more loudly, drowning it out. They had grown weary of being isolated, alone with no interacation with most other species. To them, it was as the Other said. This current form of existence was boring. They wanted, craved something new.
They were the Silentium, self-aware droids that had existed for ages as extra-galactic vagabonds until they had found this galaxy, quietly settling in the region that most of its inhabitants referred to as the Unknown Regions. There were a number of empty and dead worlds there that the Silentium had chosen to orbit or stay amongst, left to their own devices. That form of existence though was becoming increasingly more boring to them as they now sought to continue their evolution. Change was necessary to survive.
We must make contact, become involved. We exist in this galaxy, we must take part in it.
Whom do we contact then? Humans are prejuidice and hungry for war, other species are dangerous as well. If we do this, we must find machines, Other.
We both know who that is, One.
The fanatics? You must truly be malfunctioning. Why would they take us?
Because they embrace technology.
They corrupt technology, Other.
None the less, they are more likely to greet us then this Empire the humans have built. It does not embrace difference. I will initiate contact.
The massive sphereoid fired its drive system again and stopped, its innards churning and shifting until a section of hull slid open, allowing a small vessel to fly forth from it. The vessel angled itself and flew away from its parent before triggering its hyperdrive and vanishing. The Rest muttered quietly amongst themselves as this occured, knowing that the die had been cast. Now they would begin their journey.