Now in ruins with no more vessels left to carry them. The Prism Collective slowly, through time, died out. Once powerful machines were left to slowly drain of power, nothing to look forward to, to lead them, only rusting ruins of steel and crashed hulks for stellar travel, years later hunting parties came from the three races, treating the last machine worlds as a mere sport to play with, although in time the machines died out and the sport quickly died with it.
Many parts of the now dead civilization had been dissected and researched, this led three races to varying breakthroughs in technology. Both military applications, scientific and sociality research. When they had researched good portions of the machines, the only left was to find their labs, hidden bases, lost relics and to dissect them for their secrets. But even that well ran dry, now tapped out the machines had been subjected to the tides of time.
Their cities began to slowly fall, once tall towers now mere piles of debris. Leaving a world of broken steel and waste. Those ships in space were scavenged, used to build vessels, be that outcast, criminals or pirates. Other worlds where hulks had fallen were slowly integrated into that environment, be it the trees and grass that took it and made a unique environment for the sands that slowly buried the ships into what could be a tomb of the machines, their race soon became folklore and then legends. now to mythical or even long dead creations. Their technology was believed to be exaggerated and their might disdainfully disproven by the history books.
Centuries passed and the three races turned on each other in that time. They now only cared for their inner conflict then the once powerful machines that made them fear to sleep at night. Yet now even they have forgotten the machines were merely stories, no longer a threat and by their standards existent, or perhaps never existing.
Not helping when the surviving generations tried to forget with extreme measures. They still exist on the internet, the stories of brutal slaughters. But often now are they considered the illusion of an era.
Name once known across the universe are reduced to mere ancient embers of an ancient time. So is the fate of all great nations, long may the Prism Collective rest in their steel tombs, to never awake again.
Or so would have been the case, one thing has been forgotten out of all. A secret kept, lies spread and certainties told. All ships assumed dead. Only because after so long nothing came of trying to pry this secret, nor its mystery, those who knew or were once alive took this to their grave and the only thing they had to say which were perceived as delusions was one single sentence they uttered before everyone of them died.
"Where had the last Mothership gone? And will the Machines return again?"
Despite it all, perhaps they weren't crazy after all.
Deep in the dark parts of unexplored space a distant planet sat revolving around a neutron star, a ring of cosmic fire orbiting it like a Saturn ring, this planet was the only thing in the solar system and it was alone in that respect. Yet down on its surface where sand dunes blew against black granite, clouds roved the skies in a piss yellow whilst fields of oil and gas flowed like rivers was a singular hulk of a ship half buried under the sand dunes, its rusting metal sticking up like some ancient ruin, deep within a pod shuddered. Whilst a small yellow light blinked on.
[Fuel low, beginning start up!]
This pod, once giving a low and eerie hum, began to pick up in intensity. The dark room it stood in dimly lit by the alarm, yet silent yellow blinks. Before anyone knew it, Before anything knew it. The pods electro magnetic locks disengaged. With a Chink!
The pod's door slid out before sliding up, a writhing mass of murky silver moved before falling into place and forming what appeared to be a humanoid machine. Deep in its chest a hum intensified and spiked!
Blue veins appeared just under the critters, little nanites. The machine's power pulsed and its body shook, then a line across its upper face glowered blue, the machine's hand moved gripping the side of the container before slowly pulling itself out.
[Machine Synthesis Matrix booting up.]
[completed, System booting up]
[completed, diagnostics booting up]
[completed, running diagnostics]
[completed, checking systems]
[completed, systems online]
[Synthesis activated, name acquired, history acquired, directive set, activating directive.]
[Directive: Update database, information missing!]
[Directive acknowledged!]
The machine slowly scanned its surroundings, a map appearing on its hud. It registered its position, turning toward a massive prism connected by a mass of wires, crystals and other unidentified machines. The prism looked far more ancient than the entire ship. Placing its hand on the panel below it took notice that it could inject power and revive the prism, however the system advised against this, there wasn't a need to yet.
So it must find the server room, where all data is collected and stored. If it applies power to it, it could take in the necessary information required for an update. So with that said it withdrew its hand and slowly turned its head to the closed door. Walking up it tried to use a momentary power surge to open the door, however centuries of rust has done the door in. not to mention the parts to use the door had been damaged.
Withdrawing its hand it drew back one foot, drawing the other front and pulling its hand back, tensing its hand into a chop. The nanites hummed and the blue veins pulsed. The next second the hand shot forward with a kinetic force of a freight train on steroids!
BANG
The hand pierced the door, before withdrawing, from outside the old silent halls stirred up dust, fingers sliding through the small opening before gripping each side, the next second the door folded as in one swift move it was opened like a heavy curtain. Dim blue light from the humming machine poured faintly though. It stepped into the corridor and its thermal optics flashed but it found that to be unwise. Due to this ship being metal and thermal being thermal it was like looking into the sun with stellar binocs. So it turned the thermals off instantly. Turning a secondary application. A small beam extended out.
Glancing down right the wall went deep into the ship's bowls, same with the left. Soon its head swiveled right.
Apparent damage hung from the ceiling, protruded from the walls.
Its footsteps thudded quietly, light beaming as it reflected off the dark halls, driving away the darkness. It had already passed assembly rooms and research rooms. There was a server room but it wasn't of value. Having what it didn't need, but sure enough it could be of value down the line.
The server room which it was looking for had been just a little ways down. After locating the dark towers of data, the machine placed its hand on it, blue veins extending from its fingers, before a pulse of blue electrified the server room, many of the dark towers that were miles long lit up and the data came after it isolated the rooms power, after all if it tried to leak to other parts of the ship it would drag along more power to get it up, but the machine knew both by its own mind and the system. That this was a bad idea, it be a short spark in a warehouse, the power needed would likely depower it.
Its body slowed to a rigid halt as it began the massive download, sifting through the information removing unnecessary parts and deleting them from entering his mind. That is what this machine had to learn, it had to be considered a he, so things won't get mixed up and if anything hasn't noticed another reason, repetition.
Whilst it was updating its own database, the machine needed to name itself.. So what would be a suitable name? Simple it will be named Synthesis, or wait should it go with Matrix instead? Synthesis sounds better and matrices can be used for other means.. In fact it will name the system Matrix.
[Updates to name completed, continue on original task!]
[understood]
It stood there, akin to a statue, listening to the sining hum of the towers.
Yawning Yonver lifted himself from his bed, glancing at his phone. It was 10am, the only concept of time he could use in this tin can. Rolling his shoulders he picked himself up, standing almost six foot seven inches tall. He was a big man, one of few sub humans of the Solar republic. By no means did it mean they were lesser, just very different, the Republic thousands of years ago had abolished slavery, the racism took a really long time, both because of the old spreading their hatred to the new and false news hyping up the heinous acts that never even happened, or hell twisted the event into something it wasn't.
History aside, he was the head engineer of this fine vessel, if it didn't annoy him so much from time to time, he would have probably married the tin can. Which was its actual name, blame the captain he never had a great sense for naming.
Yonvers footfalls sounded like a giant would, he was a stocky tall condensed muscle man, for some odd reason most people thought due to size he wasn't all that bright, or even had a lick of intelligence, which was wholeheartedly wrong. In fact he was very smart and even an inventor. Hell most of this ship had his inventions integrated into it.
He banked right before an automatic door shot open. Beyond it was a sizably large cafeteria for the crew, this ship handling up to a minimum of twenty crew members and a max of thirty. Good thing this time around they had some room, with twenty four crew members onboard.
Yonver saw at least a dozen people in here, the rest likely sleeping in, working early or checking the ship for any faults today. They were an exploration ship, Yonver paid no mind to the crew. Making himself some strong coffee spiked bourbon and some food from last night. The captain Rogers happened to be nearby doing something similar, but he already ate, grabbing his coffee and his favorite cigar! "Ah! Yonver! Slept well my friend?"
Smiling, the giant nodded. Cracking his neck which sounded like mini steam valves popping off. "Mm, as best as one can on em cots!" The captain didn't know himself, he had a slightly better bed himself, he honestly wondered if he had enough after this to buy an upgrade for the crew. Such as a better cot, he didn't believe they should get hard cots and he a soft one. What would that do? Stiffen their back? Agitate them for months to come? Always did the crew get rowdy near the end, with only ex marines not giving a damn what they slept on. To be honest he thought they sleep on corpses if they wanted comfort, scary bunch they are.
"How's the ship's internals?" After a sip of his coffee, Yonver lumbered over to a large chair, purely meant for him. Because no other man or woman on board was as big as the ancient giant, with their size and age of at least three hundred! To which Yonver was only hundred eighty years old, if you consider it, he may even be considered late fourties. On the way over he replied to the man. "Workin well and ant broken yet, Sparrow" Captain Sparrow nodded before hearing the intercom statically beep on.
""Captain to main cockpit, we got something here!""
That was his que! He left the crew to travel up to the cockpit! When he reached the door and opened it his cheery tone which was about to speak was cut off, albeit not on purpose. "Captain, we found something!" The captain dismissed what he was going to see, leaning past the pilot and uttered in shock, excitement evident as his eyes bulged. "Oh my!"