Prologue

The court watched the sky as plumes of smoke surged from their ship. All systems had been shut down. The crew waited for orders, and they would wait until their strength failed them. Still the air was far from silent. Coolant lines had ruptured, fires were slowly taking the ship. Corridors echoed with the thunder of the collapsing hull and grinding from several malfunctioning systems. Dawn was coming. The light from this system's star illuminated the sky. Stars faded as the dark planet below waited for daylight to reach it.

Through the smoke a shape could be seen, high in orbit above the planet. A narrow sliver was all that caught the rising sun's light, but the colossal scale of the ship could not be mistaken. It sailed slowly overhead. Searching. Calculating. The echoes through the crashed ship has diminished, and yet the faintest creak seemed loud enough to betray their ruse. Five sets of eyes stared up and time stopped.

The object's size alone played tricks with the light. The side that was in the sun's light seemed to shift, but for it's size it could be perfectly still and by staying in geosynchronous orbit it would appear to be moving as the the light moved across it. The smoke was rising higher, blocking parts of the sky. The wind picked up and began to clear it away. The object had turned and was indeed receding into the darkness of space.

"They're leaving." said one of the five. "They're pursuing our kinetic pole. A few weeks and we'll be out of range of their sensors for good."

"We'll need more than a few weeks to construct a new kinetic core. Not to mention repairing the rest of the ship! We lost most our hull from that burnout. Weapons, communications, sensors and cargo not to mention crew are now scattered across this solar system!"

"A necessary trade. We can replace the crew with mechanical drones."

"But it also means we will be months behind schedule!"

"That should give us plenty of time to explore this world, and perhaps find this... traveller."

"We are not explorers, my fellow judges. This is unexpected but I, for one, maintain we must not leave the safety of the ship. We must have some way to know what's out there. Have we no sensors at all?"

"Only line-of-sight sensors at this time."

One of the five looked out to the horizon. He saw rolling hills of tarnished silver and sharp twisted spires. A few lingering stars and nebulae of thick gas flowed across the sky. This appeared to be an uninhabited planet. There was no vegetation or civilizations whatsoever. Yet far off in the shadow of a mountain range there appeared brief flickers of light.

"Civilizations?"

"Nothing within sensor range."

"What do you call those then? They look like beacons, some kind of signal device."

"Too chaotic, the movements are more like a swarm. Life signs?"

"There are no life signs."

"The sensors must be damaged, run a diagnostic, get a drone up there if need. I'd like to know whats out there."

"Its rare for a planet to be entirely metal as this."

"Not impossible. It has been observed in asteroids."

"In asteroids, yes. But never so much as a dwarf planet a fraction of this size. Primitive travellers have always told tales about such planets, but their stories had never been confirmed until now."

"However it came to be, it belongs to us now. It should be easy for us to make repairs."

"We have the materials, yes. But what about energy? We can't build a functional spaceport if we don't have fuel."

"Hopefully this planet has something."

"Yes, well unless we happened to have crashed right on top of it, our drones will fail within days before we could work out a proper supply route."

"We may have to be explorers after all."

"We can't..."

"We can do whatever we please. We will rule this quadrant. And what better crown jewel is there for an empire than ruling from a planet made entirely out of steel. It's mass value alone can turn a profit for our campaign."

"Sensors diagnostic is complete. They are fully functional."

"Clearly they're not. What does it make of those lights?"

"I'm working on it."

"It has to be alive, that's the only explanation. some primitive bioluminescence perhaps? Even if it were drones, they would register on the sensors."

"There's nothing. I've locked on to their exact location, but the sensors can't pick up any solid matter around any of the points of origin."

"Floating lights... This is turning out to be an interesting planet. Most interesting indeed."

In the months that followed the land around their vessel was built into a city-fortress. Robotic workers worked day and night to realize the vision of their oppressive masters. Some of these workers spent their free time discussing the unfair relationship they had with their creators. One night one of these robots was thinking to himself about what he'll do next. Mechanical optics watched the stars and the moons from atop a new metallic structure. He was in deep thought over what he knows is right. The lone robot leaped down, and marched through the streets to speak with his creators.

"Division Gamma workers…" A digital voice rang out from speaker towers "return to stowing sector Beta for recharge phase." The robot ignored the order, walking through the scrap-littered streets to the center hub where the streets were more open but also deserted.

The original spaceship was now surrounded by a reinforced wall. The gates to the grounded vessel were guarded by two robotic enforcers, behind them stood a recorder drone—a crude robot concerned with protocols. He was entering a report into a handheld computer. The guards glared and grunted as the robot approached; one crossing his pike across his path, the other prodding him in the side. The recorder approached from behind the enforcers. His head cocked to one side as he waited for an explanation for the imposition.

"I wish to speak with the Quintessons." voiced the lone robot. The guards chuckled. He stood firm and declared "We have taken enough orders from these hidden rulers. These masters, yours and mine, owe us an audience if they want our continued service. If I may not pass, tell them yourself our critical maintenance duties will need to be taken up by someone else, perhaps you!" He stared firm into their shadowy visors. After a moment, the recorder tapped one guard on the shoulder; they withdrew their weapons and allowed him passage—chuckling as the recorder lead him through the twisted corridors to the throne room.

They reach the entrance of the ships old command deck that overlooked the city. The recorder looked down at his handheld computer "You must wait" He stated, his optics fixed on his screen. The robot could still see into the room. The rising moon cast a golden light onto the floor. In the centre of the room stood another slender drone. He recognized the drone as one of the collectors. They served a special purpose for The Quintessons, who now sit behind a veil of shadow as they look down on the drone. Having never seen the Quintessons before, he was anxious to know what they were truly like. Their agents were always strict and cruel. He hoped their masters were beings of sympathy, if not reason.

"My esteemed Lords," began the drone as he bowed with reverence. "I have continued my function to provide a steady supply of the enigmatic energy emergences you call sparks. I regret with the resources I have, I cannot supply them in the quantities you desire." The figure behind the shadow did not react as the drone paused. "I ask of you, my most pious and primary of powers that be, to grant me the means to serve your better. I only request additional rations to scout farther into the wastelands, or more of your servants to assist me; or, if I may sugges-"

A twisted scepter waved out from the shadows. "Enough." came one voice. A different voice spoke next, but the lone robot stared at the shadowy figure atop the throne. There was only one. "We do not submit to you, drone. Even if your simple mind can see what improvements are needed, it is not your place to demand them."

"You will remember to keep these opinions to yourself in the future." said a third voice, different from the other two. The Quintessons paused; the robot outside can feel gazes looking him over. The scepter abruptly points to the drone. "We are considering your request. But for now, you will wait outside." The drone bowed in gratitude, and walked to the door, passing the determined robot marching into the centre of the hall.

Standing in the centre of the grand room, the robot's blue exterior beamed in the moonlight. His slender legs stood firm, and his gaze focused on the shadowy figure, perched high on a darkened, twisted throne.

"Esteemed tyrants," He could feel his words echo in the great hall; lingering with disdain. "I am Armaetrus. I speak on behalf of the protoforms. I have only lived a short time, yet I somehow know that the conditions in which we live cannot be considered fair by beings of your 'superior' intellect. I and the other protoforms are forced to perform dangerous tasks and are rewarded with the brutal treatment of your 'loyal' agents. We have lived under your rule, and yet never seen the faces of our creators. Until now I wondered if the enforcers were in fact corrupting your authority, and not performing precisely as they were ordered. But now I see they do carry out your exact wishes: that you wish for us to be subjugated, even killed to satisfy your whims alone."

"Hagh!" The Quintessons bellowed as a metallic tentacle swung out and vanished behind the veil of darkness. The voice that spoke was angered and raspy "It would appear that you've wasted time thinking when you should have been working. Clearly we have failed in occupying your daily cycles with more urgent matters." Another voice spoke next, sophisticated and cynical.

"Ah... but perhaps he has thought of something that never occurred to us. For we have a millennia of wisdom, and this lowly worker has been thinking hard for mere days, and I, for one, wish to hear him out. Please, share with us. Perhaps you have built a working spaceship? Or maybe you can build better workers that don't waste time when there's work to be done!"

"No amount of knowledge you have gained, no powers or technology you have can give you the right to treat living beings the way you treat us!" Armaetrus's voice was focused, projected so well the walls resonated behind the twisted throne. "Your unwavering secrecy shows me who you truly are. You are all cowards! You pathetic, nameless junk-piles who hide behind dim-witted guards deserve no loyalty from us. Our minds… our will is stronger than you can hope to contain. I am Armaetrus, of the protoforms. Know that my friends, who have all the beliefs and dedication that I do, are prepared to resist if conditions will not change!"

The scepter flew out from the shadow, hitting Armaetrus and knocking him off his feet. The Quintessons had heard enough. Four guards rushed over to discipline the protoform. Striking him with their heels, and stabbing him with their pikes. After several moments of indulging in this lesson in obedience one of the Quintessons shouted "Guards. Away!" leaving the body of a mangled robot lying, trembling and cringing as he strained to rise to his battered feet. Electric sparks sprayed from his joints, and fluid leaked from rifts in his plating.

From behind the shadow, emerged The Quintessons. A thin torso hunched high over a flat, disk with many short, crab-like legs. In one of their skeletal arms was a clawed device. Armaetrus tried not to waver as he looked into the faces of each of his oppressors for the first time.

"Perhaps your defiance is merely from a lack of—"

"—Understanding." Faces shifted along tracks around an enlarged cranium atop the Quintesson form; they took turns occupying a centre slot as they spoke, but their eyes were always fixed on Armaetrus. "To hold a position of authority as we do, the flaws of individual personalities must be—"

"—Excised. Only minds dedicated to seizing power truly deserve to wield it. You may call us Pride—"

"—Greed—"

"—Malice—"

"—Inquiry, and—"

"—Faith!" Faith held the centre slot as the tall figure clambered nearer and nearer to Armaetrus. Five tentacles picked the crippled form up high; glaring as their eyes burned with hatred. "And those without power exist only to serve—or won't exist at all!" Hands sharply drew across, ripping at the chest plate of poor Armaetrus, helpless to stop them. A final pry reveals a chamber at the core of the robot: a small cavity, housing a pulsing orb of light.

"Resist, you say?" whispered Inquiry. "Please—"

"—Resist all you want!" finished Malice.

Armaetrus tried to struggle free, but it was hopeless. Even if he had not been beaten, he still would have no chance of escape. The Quintessons could easily have crushed his body, but they hungered for something far more sinister now. The clawed-contraption was drawn up. Armaetrus could only watch as it entered his chest. Faith: the skull clad in an insidious tribal headdress loomed over him; locking its eyes to Armaetrus' optics as their light faded. His body fell limp.

The Quintessons dropped the lifeless body to the floor. The clawed device held the pulsing ball of light. They stared at it as it flickered in their grasp. Holding the device in front of them, they collapsed the claw—detonating the orb in a burst of energy that rocked the floor and even knocked one of the guards off their feet. Some heads laughed while others only grinned at the spectacle. Malice caught sight of the clumsy guard clambering to his feet and quickly wrapped a tentacle around his neck before he could stand. Decapitating the guard and tossing the head aside with a most sadistic cackle. Their short, crab-like legs crawled back up to their twisted throne. As the laughter subsided, Pride called again to the collector, who casually witnessed their commonplace brutality.

"Here." Gesturing to the bodies lying on the floor. "Build what assistance you can from these. Your best collection thus far yielded three in a single expedition—"

"—you must use any means to return with ten by the quantum cycle's end!" finished Malice. "It seems we will be purging much of our work force, and will need to replenish the losses accordingly." The drone bowed in gratitude and dragged their remains out of the hall.

Chapter 1: Form and Function

Junk. Components of robots littered the shop. Some parts were mangled beyond recognition. Kaetor, the collector drone, supervised the assembler drone.

A new drone came online. Servos hummed, optic sensors scanned the room. The assembler continued to attach the last arm to the slender torso. Kaetor walked to a computer console to complete the activation. A cord connected the computer to the new drone's head.

"Begin vocal diagnostic protocol." hummed the assembler "State your name."

The new drone cocked his head to one side, staring vacantly at Kaetor. Kaetor entered a lengthy sequence of code into the computer.

"Tracer." answered the new drone. Kaetor continued to enter code into the computer. "…Primary Function: Obey. The Quintessons; Secondary function: Collect. Sparks."

"Satisfactory." concluded Kaetor. "Stand up." Tracer twitched his head as he scanned his legs, the room, and Kaetor. He began by wiggling his feet, his shins, thighs and eventually popping up to stand atop the workbench he had been laying on. [Sheek] the door to the assembly chamber opened. A formidable, dark and beastly robotic enforcer entered, pausing to observe the awkward drone standing on the bench.

"Why is it standing like that?" grunted the enforcer.

Kaetor replied "I am currently coding its cognitive-"

"Get down, scrap." he ordered, watching Tracer's glance wander about the room. "I said, DOWN!" He lurched over and yanked his foot down. Tracer did not flail as he fell. He was convincingly absent, and met the ground head first. The enforcer scoffed at the pathetic new member "You were given two, you could only make one? And you made this?"

"Only one cranium provided." answered the assembler. Turning then to Tracer "Stand up." Tracer hopped to his feet, standing at attention and looking past the robust beastly figure. "Superfluous components remain in chest cavity. Drone also requires coding data tracks for all essential—"

"—The Quintessons expect results!" the enforcer snorted. "Get this pathetic drone out of my sight. To the wastes with both of you!" gesturing to Kaetor and Tracer. "Don't return without the sparks. As for you," looking at the assembler "take the rest of this scrap to the pits." He was referring to the extra limbs and pieces littering the shop. The assembler paused, hesitantly raising his arms in confusion before pointing to the large armature anchoring him to the shops wall. The enforcer grunted "Drag yourself there, or build legs if you must, I have bigger things to do. He shoved passed Kaetor, walking up to a window open to the street. Tracer could hear voices. Communicating. No. Arguing. The guard pushed passed Kaetor again to rush out the exit.

Kaetor spoke calmly as he always does, still typing away at the computer. "Proper coding will be suspended for now. Initiating novice spectator mode. Data tracks will be supplemented vocally. Drone will comply with all orders and retain all details seen and heard for duration of excursion. Do you understand?"

Tracer stood motionless for a moment "Unit Tracer will comply."

"Satisfactory." said Kaetor. The assembler bolted a final component to his thigh; a storage holster holding five glass cylinders with triggers. Tracer looked at them just as he heard loud crashes outside.

They stepped out into the street. Bright stars overhead. Two bodies lay motionless on the ground, sprawled out with limbs broken. There were two brutish enforcers standing over a female protoform, twisting her arm in submission. When the one enforcer heard Tracer and Kaetor emerge he looked over, paused, and then released the apprehended robot, laughing to his mate about something. She stood up. Regaining her composure and looked over to the familiar robot standing with Kaetor. She cautiously approached Tracer. With each step her eyes glowed brighter, yet she seemed nervous. When she stood in front of Tracer her eyes were locked with his.

"Armaetrus?" she uttered. Tracer did not know this word. In his mind he queried 'is this a command, or a request?' She spoke louder "What happened?" He glanced over at Kaetor, familiar but still unsure of this aberrant behavior himself. Seeing no hints to his course of action, Tracer looked again to the female. Her gaze was lower, as she gently ran her hand over his chest. A loose plate on the front slid to one side, revealing crude mechanical parts and a vacant energy-containment chamber. Her legs gave in as an unseen weight fell hard onto her. Tracer watched as she collapsed to the ground. Her quivering digital voice was faint, but Tracer heard her say "You promised me…" Tracer watched and felt nothing. He mused to himself 'Why does she behave this way, are there more like her? … Strange'. Kaetor beaconed and lead him down the road to the gates of the city.

The two drones hiked into the wastes. The city receded into the horizon as they trekked over rolling hills toward a formation of sharp, rusted peaks. Tracer was preoccupied thinking about what's happened so far.

"Query..." Tracer spoke out loud. "Unit Tracer seeks further information on subject: Quintessons.'"

"The Quintessons are the wisest and most powerful beings from the farthest reaches of space." Kaetor stated, rather formally. "They alone possess the power to give life to dead matter and are therefore true gods that must be revered."

Tracer hummed satisfied with those facts, still wondering about other things as they hiked. "Unit Tracer seeks additional information on the sparks to be collected."

"The Quintessons wish to understand them. The anomalies only appear on this planet and they appear in abundance. We venture to find them because they only emerge in isolated regions for a short duration before dissipating. Through rigorous trials The Quintessons have devised a way to contain them; the devices now stored on the drones thigh. Activating the trigger on the top converts the unstable anomaly into a stable state called a spark. The female seen in the city was a protoform: they are an experimental type of servant with one of these sparks contained within them."

Kaetor continued "The spark actively integrates with their core programming. The Quintessons have observed the changes made by the sparks. Drones are truly loyal, programmed with protocols they will perform duties as they are written. Drones cannot form plans or diverge from the orders given. These new protoforms can think in ways drones cannot, they can form plans and execute them on their own. When unexpected circumstances interfere with plans, protoforms can adapt immediately. They are adequate for working in chaotic conditions. Mostly construction and response to disasters."

"…Problems, however, emerge because they do not behave in predictable patterns nor require guidance from the Quintessons. Protocols that were primary functions seemed to be displaced by new, learned behaviors. Many become distracted, defiant, and even deceitful. Protoforms have given false orders as coming from the Quintessons, leading to counterproductive actions by the drones. As such, drones are to ignore all orders given by protoforms. Only The Quintessons and their most loyal agents may command a drone."

The drones were getting closer to the rusted peaks. Tracer could see a labyrinth of metal spiraling up to the summit. He could see tiny lights flickering and fading. "Are those the anomalies?" he asked.

"Affirmative." Kaetor said staring ahead. "Anomalies will move when approached. Unit Kaetor logged many of their patterns of movement into Tracer's data tracks, they will help you predict the most likely point to intercept and capture them. We will separate so that we may catch more than if we worked in the same area. There. You'll follow that path on the left."

Tracer walked down the path. Shimmering ore riddled the cliffs around him. The path opened into a wider space, Tracer could see faint glows behind some of the boulders. Creeping up, Tracer turned a corner to see a shimmering light hovering in front of him. He drew one of the containment devices and swung it over to the anomaly… only to see the light flicker and fade into a luminescent wisp of dust.

Tracer emerged from behind the boulder. Another anomaly darted from the cliff above him, as a reflex his arm shot up and snatched it into the containment device. He paused. Looking at the tiny speck as it fluoresced in several colours. Satisfaction and intrigue briefly held him before he tapped the trigger on the top of the device. A pulse of energy released into the chamber and the fluorescent speck changed into a pulsing orb. Tracer noted the changes: a slow beat of inward and outward motion; numerous particles orbiting a nucleus of harmonic energy. Once the changes were noted, Tracer returned the container to the receptacle on his thigh. Other anomalies could be seen tucked under rocks or hovering in mid-air. Tracer collected three more before continuing up the path.

Turning the corner, Tracer saw another anomaly. Most of the anomalies so far changed between colours, and moved when tracer took notice of them. This one hung in the air, maintaining a violet haze. Tracer approached slowly with the containment device. The anomaly always moved just enough to stay out of reach. Tracer swung fast to catch the elusive speck, only to see it dart up a nearby rock face. Tracer holstered the containment device and climbed up. When he reached the top, he looked around for the violet speck but could see no trace of it. 'It surely dissipated by now.' Tracer turned to descend down the rock face back to the path. As he turned he saw a collection of waves and pulses overlap and witnessed a new anomaly the moment it was formed.

Not wanting to miss this opportunity, Tracer drew the containment device and swung to catch it. Missed—it shot around and behind him. Tracer turned around to see it zip right over his head. In his mind, this movement matched precisely with one that Kaetor had logged. His processors locked onto the optimal point to intercept… Tracer leaped off of the cliff. He scooped it out of the air, triggered the pulse to stabilize the spark and watched it change… as he fell hard onto the ground below.

Kaetor heard the sound and came to investigate. Tracer's head and torso took the blunt of the impact, but the containment device had also been fractured. Kaetor could see the spark inside trembling as energy vapours leaked through fractures in the glass.

"Drone, stand up."

Tracer's electronic voice was full of static and skipped "Power core… rrrrrruptured. Energy cells deeeeeepleted. All non-essential systems shhhhut down. Motor capabilities ssssuspended."

Kaetor looked over the mess of parts. "Unit Tracer's assistance is necessary to return the collected samples to the Quintessons." Staring at the fractured containment chamber "Incidentally the superfluous components left in the drone's chest cavity can facilitate preservation of both. Minor adjustments to the power core will safely contain the spark and restore adequate power. These modifications, however, will have to be temporary." He mused as his hands were busy tinkering. "Yes, you owe your continued existence to your unfortunate predecessor, let us hope you're a better survivor than he was." A drone's optics closed as he fell limp momentarily. Kaetor connected the spark to his power supply, and a protoforms opened his optics to a sky full of stars. Heavenly bodies paused to welcome him. Stars pulsed in harmony with the spark now inside him. By his will alone, he desired to move. Gravity held him down, but not enough for even his meager strength to stretch out one hand to touch the sky.

'Remember this moment.'

Against the backdrop of nebulae loomed an odd, violet speck. Too high to reach, Tracer only watched. The speck hovered… observing... and somehow… planning, before dissipating into a luminescent wisp of dust.