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The Life and Lies of an unnamed swarmer

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So. Our story begins with an unnamed swarmer, not long ago a lifeless shell, now a cog in the machine that is the will of The Masters, set to consume everything in its path, save for a few things they want inta.....wait.

Our story begins with First Class Xenobiologist Bobbie Wilkins, a veteran of ill-fated ventures and failures of the mind. Though assigned to work in the Cyberiad's Xenobiology Lab, Wilkins saw something more in the power that Science access had vested in him. He saw....the magic of bluespace. Tirelessly, Wilkins worked to obtain the materials needed for his personal laboratory, a(Making a sidenote here that there is a perfect room for ghetto Science stations in South Sci-maints)cramped, yet cozy room that was not much frequented by the denizens of the station. After countless hours, a labour of love, Wilkins' masterpiece had been completed, a personal teleporter station, set to locations that man has not stepped for years, and Wilkins was ready to explore, to find the remains, the ruins of these lost stories, lost civilizations. However, Wilkins made one, fatal mistake. Wearing a bag infused with the energy of bluespace, Wilkins was fully unaware of the sad fate about to befall upon him. As he stepped into the teleporter hub, two bluespace discharges met, one from the teleporter, one from the bag. In milliseconds, the bag, and Wilkins with it, were ripped from the station, and flung to the cold, empty vacuum of space. Wilkins' dream would never be seen through, his body never recovered, and his soul lost to the ages.

Now. Enter an unnamed swarmer, not long ago a lifeless shell, now a cog in the machine that is the will of the Masters, set to consume everything in its path, save for a few things they want intact. The swarmer's dreadfully focused mind sees a wall, and attempts to break it down. ZAP. A minor disabling shock runs through the swarmer. The Masters do not want that wall broken down. Apparently, its existence keeps the air in. What is air? The swarmer doesn't care, there are plenty more walls to break down, ones that won't result in a painful shock.

Perhaps several minutes into this swarmer's existence, it finds a small room. A strange light shines under the door, and the swarmer is instantly attracted to it. Breaking down a meager barrier, one that is suppose to open and close, the swarmer sees a thousand lights in so small an area, small charges of a sort being emitted from a swirling mass of colors. Though the swarmer's first instinct is to break down the contraption, another painful shock courses through it. As the swarmer buzzes into the mass of colors, a sudden change takes to the environment. The swarmer has been teleported, this time to a new, brightly lit room, with a similar, yet disabled teleportation station below it. So many walls. So much to consume. The swarmer tries most of the walls around it, receiving a countless number of shocks. But, after several minutes of testing, the swarmer finds its mark. To the North is much to consume. And so it does. After several minutes, the swarmer can replicate itself. Then again, several minutes after. Soon, the entire interior of the structure, some sort of communications satellite, has been ravaged. 

But wait. A sudden development. Two organics,  draped in suits made of metal, yellow in color. These organics have teleported in. Upon sighting the unnamed swarmer, they flee, opening airlocks on their way to outer space. A mistake. The swarmer pursues, and the organics attempt to fight back. A failure. Several disabler beams are fired, and the two organics float helplessly off into the vacuum, destined to die, never to be heard again.

A original swarmer begins to spark from the damage wrought upon it by the organics. Swarmers do not think of such things, but, as the unnamed swarmer falls disabled to the ground, it is surrounded by the children that it has fathered(and grandfathered), continuing on its legacy to the last, and, at long last, it is happy.

Edited by Display Name

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