The Quints: Fall

The galaxy was forever changed when our homeworld was destroyed. Without our makers in their place of rule, the more ambitious flesh creatures took their chance to expand their own holdings. And so it was that the galaxy fell into a war not seen before in the known history of our makers.

While we did not wish to participate in the war directly, we could not overlook this chance to build our presence in the galaxy at large, or to turn a profit. Taking up possession of a former resource planet in the furthermost reaches of our galaxy, we began the process of turning it into a factory world.

There, we constructed weapons of our makers design using their knowledge, selling them to all sides involved in the ever expanding wars with the promise that they would leave us in peace. It was also on this world that we began the work that would one day cause us to collapse; the construction of robots.

Our prototype devices were simple, just as that of the Primacron... but they soon grew in complexity and capability. However, try as we may we could not fully grant them sentience. These little more than programmed devices were still a viable product, and were sold to the waring factions... but they were still not that which we sought.

Turning to the storehouse of wisdom, one of our brave scientists tried in vain to find the research of the Primacron, to see what he did to create the Oracle... but the knowledge was beyond our grasp, locked deep within. It was only when it was inserted and merged with the collective minds of one scientist that the knowledge came... but at a cost; the minds were absorbed, added to the wisdom collected within. The being ceased to be itself, and was something wholly new...

The Prime.

The master of all wisdom, the leader of our race. From the Prime we received our name, free and devoid of the service that we once were cast into. We became the Quintessons. It, in turn, became the Alpha Quintesson.

We labored in the construction of that which would allow us to give true minds to our creations, to make them more than just mindless shells with programming, something more valuable to us and the galaxy at large. It was a drive that consumed us, pushed on by the cold logic of wanting to surpass the flesh creatures that gave us life, and the desire to have more power, more influence... more domination.

Supercomputers were born of our work, the planet we used as a base became a vast factory that was thousands of miles thick, controlled by a central computer that organized all others. We dubbed the planet Lithone, and it was our testing ground. From there we built machines, and then machines built machines; the planet became automated, the product given sentience by the super computer we called Vector Sigma. These first machines were a bit clumsy and slow, but they were smarter and more agile than the past units. Composed of sharp lines, they were not like the flesh creatures and their soft, rounded features... they were better.

Sold to the flesh creatures to further feed their war, the Lithonian line was a great success; for as long as the wars lasted. Like all things, war does not last forever, especially with flesh creatures. In a few generations the wars slowly came to an end as new nation states in space formed and peace became a more preferred option over all out war. The races who bought first weapons and then mechanical servants from us wanted more functions, more features; they wanted units that were specialized rather than all inclusive.

We tried to modify the Lithonian line, but all of our attempts failed. We came to a point where we would need a completely new design, a new way to construct units; Lithone was no longer capable of keeping up with the changes needed, regardless of how we tried to upgrade the facilities. As such, the factory planet was all but shut down; taking Vector Sigma with us, the planet and its units were abandoned.

For centuries afterwards, we colonized many different planets, trying numerous different designs, ever trying to enhance the lines, to make products that the masses would purchase; all failed. As specific task machines, our models had the bodies and minds, but they could not connect fully; conventional circuity could not, it seemed, allow them to fully utilize their intelligence and finer motor control. Try as we may, even with Vector Sigma, our greatest advance in computer technology, we could not find a way to create a circuit that could do what we wanted artificially.

The search, then, was on for a material that we could use, that could be added to our known materials, or something completely new and unknown that could achieve our desire. Many planets were scouted, many samples taken... nothing was found.

That is, until we came across a small, barren little rock of a world; a rogue planet traveling through the vastness of interstellar space. There, a green crystal material was found; it was tested and applied to our most advanced model's circuity and systems. It increased connectivity with the brain unit by two-hundred thirty percent.

This, it seemed, was the find that we had waited for.

Setting down on the small world, we began to mine it; the world was rich with the material. With a reliable source and a material that we could use to make our models the most efficient possible, we set to work converting the planet into yet another grand factory, increasing its mass, covering it in a shell of metals that housed the vast complex devices that could create machines. Deep within, in the most heavily defended section of the new metal world, we placed Vector Sigma, allowing it control over the whole of the world.

This new factory, which we dubbed Cybertron, churned out more and more machines of increased mental ability and enhanced design; we had three basic lines then, the consumer model, the military model and the government model. Also, because of our great Alpha Quintesson, the Prime of our race, and the discovery of the crystal substance that we dubbed Cybertonium, we were able to harness plasma energy, the very same that the Primacron used to shape the great planet eater, constructing a chamber that was used to forge new, better, more durable shells.

With the new models flowing into the galaxy, we were sure that we would grow in power and influence; for a time we did. But, of course, the flesh beings had complaints. For while the government models were praised for their cold logic, the military and consumer goods models were considered to be too cold, too logical; many assumed the military hardware would react in ways not in line with intended orders. The consumer models, used in tasks such as house cleaning and helping to raise children were cold and unfeeling, which, to beings who valued emotions, meant that they were less than optimal for such tasks.

For a short time, we tried to use biological beings, coupled with technology to gain emotion without the need to do any major changes to our units. The results were... far less than desired, much less safe. These Trans-Organics, as we dubbed them, were vicious and without logic; they were mindless beasts with powers that not even our modified with heavy firepower guard Quintessons could handle. The worst of all was a being which we designed to be a living energy siphon, called the Dweller. It took many attempts and many older machines, but we finally managed to put them into stasis, deep below the planet; in our minds, perhaps one day they may have been of value, hence their fate of stasis rather than destruction.

Again we went back to work, testing and changing, enhancing Vector Sigma, simulating emotions in an attempt at making fully mechanical beings with feelings; to beings who have but cold logic, we knew not that feelings had such value. We tried, several times then, to upgrade older models with basic emotional programming; all soon had to be deactivated, their emotions overcoming their circuits, causing them to act in unacceptable ways. It was then that we knew that, once more, we would have to create a whole new line; only this time, we could maintain Cybertron as a factory, for it was not a question of massive changes, but many small changes that could be achieved with the existing hardware and machines in place.

Consumer model, units A1 and A2 were failures; but each was a step closer to our goal. It was not until unit A3 that we were able to achieve emotional stability with sentience, and the unit did not display any unfavorable actions. From this primary unit, we derived plans for a second unit which would appeal to buyers who wished for house keeping and child raising in mind. It was called Beta, and it worked just as well as A3, if not better; its emotions were a bit stronger, but they were still in control.

With these two, and a third model redesigned to be both loyal and more aggressive towards enemies, with a new preinstalled weapons array that could easily be altered at the discretion of the owner, we had a line of products that met the demands of the galaxy at large, and even beyond. With our success came newer, more advanced models in different styles and builds, ranging from miner units to swift, agile models used for espionage and everything in between.

While there was little waste, as material were recycled, there was some waste; such a problem was solved upon finding a small wormhole that connected to a rural galaxy of little importance and a nearby world that we could dump; it came to be known as Junk.

But, just as our makers had before us, we became lazy as we forced our models to do the work for us; what little there was that wasn't handled by the more simple devices. We took to whipping and torture to keep them in line, punishment was death for those who disobeyed. We even went so far as to have our models fight until they were deactivated for our entertainment; something in us was changing. Our cold logic was giving way to a sadistic desire for destruction, our greed grew by leaps and bounds; we were now the masters to beings who were the system, and it was not until it was too late that we realized that they, like us, didn't take to it very well.

The uprisings, at first, were small; some units who were fighting to the end for us would suddenly lunge when we gave the order for it to be finished; at first it was easy to put down and use them as an example, but soon the numbers were growing. Our consumer goods models were beginning to refuse to work, and even the military models we were using to quell such uprisings were beginning to grow weary of our use of them.

It came to a point where only the government units could be trusted, and they were of little value in defending us. We had to create a force that could put down all challenges, that could crush their follow machines without feeling or remorse. In this time of need, when we felt the threats closing in that we created mammoth, hulking machines with thick armor and immense firepower; the Dark Guardians.

With our great unfeeling, loyal to a fault guards that protected our cities we felt invincible; our folly born of arrogance was rewarded when our Dark Guardians were deactivated by A3. Without their protection, we were helpless as our creations stormed our cities and attacked us, the military models doing the most damage. Our government models, using cold logic and rule of law were destroyed swiftly, giving us time to escape.

Except for our great leader, the Alpha Quintesson. So sure was our leader of the Dark Guardians that it lived outside of the city walls, protected by a special group of Guardians... our Prime was lost the same day we lost our factory world, the storehouse of wisdom stolen as well.

We retreated that day, a fleet of ships all that we had to our names. Without a leader, and with our primary source of power and income stripped away, we were left with nothing. Lithone, we believed, was a dead world that held a product that none would buy, and try as we may, we could never find another source of Cybertonium, making machines like those of Cybertron impossible.

Exhausted from the constant wander, we settled down on a small and oddly shaped planet. There, we built a civilization based on bitterness and hatred, our logic corrupted by the feelings that we supposedly didn't have. We took joy in the torture of other beings in mock trials, constructed new minions who could not truly think but were both loyal and vicious to be the destroyers of those we tried and condemned to death. We looked at Cybertron as a world stolen from us, and while we swore revenge one day, it never came to pass. In time, we began to forget, but the bitterness and hatred remained; the Cybertronian machines, to us, no longer existed, the world was nearly a myth.

Until, of course, millions of years later they came to our world, Quintessa...