"Am I dying?"

The voice of a small child was nothing but a whisper, but audible in the silent room. It came from a small boy being gently held in the arms of a grayish white droid with a number of glowing blue panel lights and photoreceptors who looked at the boy.

"Yes, Master Vilo.... I don't know what to do... the hospital isn't answering. Your mother and father refuse to answer me..."

The droid look towards the open bedroom doors as he clutched the child in an almost protective manner. Lying in the large bed were a man and woman, their faces calm, their hands clutched together. They were not breathing.

"Why am I dying?"

"The virus, from the Corga League, its doing this to everyone," the droid replied quietly.

"Why aren't you sick?"

"I do not get sick, Master. I am a droid."

"Oh... so I'll be joining mommy and daddy?"

"...yes Master Vilo, you will be," the droid replied in a very disheartened manner.

"I wish you could come with us..."

"So do I, Master Vilo. Maybe someday I will."

Vilo smiled weakly and the droid continued to hold him, trying to figure out what to do. He only had basic level medical knowledge, enough to treat a cold or the flux but not this. Most of the adults were dead and gone, the virus now ravaging the bodies of the children.

"Master Vilo... I need orders, tell me what to do... I don't know how to help you... I couldn't save your parents...no one is answering my calls for help... its just droids who need orders..."

The droids voice trembled as the strain of all of this affected its speech circuits. It was having trouble processing all of this. The only reason it hadn't shorted out by now was its dogged loyalty to Vilo. The boy seemed to be getting weaker but he managed to keep smiling as he opened his eyes to look at the machine who'd cared for him most of his life with his parents.

"Find new friends... have a happy life, Asimov..."

Vilo sighed some and closed his eyes, going limp in Asimov's arms.

"Master Vilo? Master Vilo! Don't leave me alone!"

Asimov cluthed the boy closer, the servomotors in his legs giving out, making him drop to his knees. He knew there was nothing he could do, nothing left to do. He couldn't undertand what was going on in his mind. His emotional matrix was overloaded with feelings he'd never experienced. Droids were supposed to feel happy, helpful. These feelings were something else. Grief, sadness, lonliness. Droids aren't supposed to be lonely... What was wrong with him?

"I don't know how to live... I'm just a machine..." Asimov stood and carried the boy into the bedroom, lying him between his parents before stepping out and closing the door.

He dwelled on Master Vilo's last words. To have a happy life. But how could a droid be happy if it was not serving its creators. He wanted to obey though but he didn't know how yet it was the last order. For all he knew it was the last command spoken by the entirety of the Evoron race.

To be happy would be to serve but that would not work anymore. There was no one left to serve. But to live. Perhaps if he understood that concept better he could grasp a new form of happiness...

Asimov moved towards the balcony of the high rise building his owners had lived in, looking over the white, silver, and teal city. The Evorons had a taste for beauty in everything they did, including construction and now that was all that was left. Their legacy....

Asimov moved towards the apartment's door and walked out. Evorons were sprawled out in the floor, their grey skin darker than it should be in death. This building and its many copies would be filled just like this. Asimov tried to shake off the creeping horror of life without the Makers as he moved to apartment 490, knocking.

The door was answered by an older model butler droid named Treberh who looked disheveled. The servomotors in his hands twitching occasionally, making his fingers move in odd patterns.

"Asimov, my owners.... they're dead... no one is sending help. The emergency response droids have no one to dispatch them..."

"No help will come... they're all gone..." Asimov said darkly, looking back at the hallway with dead Evorons lying in it.

"Gone?! But the makers can't all be gone that's impossible..."

"Treberh! The'yre all dead!" Asimov shouted, grabbing the butler droid by the shoulders and shaking him to get the point across. What a very organic thing to do...

"I... I can't go on without makers! I have no purpose, no reason to exist!" Treberh stepped away and Asimov's scanners detected an energy buildup in Treberh's circuit matrix.

"Treberh...stop, there's another way..."

"There's nothing left, Asimov... no purpose..." Treberh's voice garbled and smoke boiled from his chest as he overloaded his own systems.

Asimov stepped back in shock as his long time friend crumpled to the floor. Gone. He'd permanently deactivated himself by frying his own gel-core. What was the organic term for what he did? Oh yes. Suicide. Asimov kneeled down next to his counterpart, opening the chest panel to see smoke and green ooze pour out, his gel-matrix completely fried. The problem was this would happen more as the realization creeped in on the many droids of Evoro that their masters, their Makers, the Evorons were all dead. He had to spread his message quickly lest he become the last droid left on the world in one mass electronic suicide. Action had to be taken...

One Week Earlier

Asimov went about the apartment, cleaning up after Master Vilo's lunch as the news played in the background. Asimov enjoyed listening to the news rather than getting data uploads from the interlink. It was something very unique, having data conveyed by word of mouth from the Evoron reporter in her light blue suit.

"And events continue to spiral downwards as relations between the Corga League and the Evoro Union have begun to disintegrate after the assassination of the President of the Evoro Union Balko Soo. President Soo was the primary agent suing for peace between the nothern based Evoro Union and the southern based Corga League. Leauge officials still continue to fight for their provincial rights, fighting off the attempts of the Evoro Union to unify the planet under one true government. Many will recall Speaker Tru of the League's latest speech belitting Union efforts to bring the League into the movement."

Asimov gave a slight mental sigh that the makers could not even cooperate amongst themselves apparently. He and his family were citizens of the ever expanding Evoro Union, a democratically based government that worked on bringing its surrounding neighbors into it peacefully with offers of economic and politcial incentives. Most of the northern hemisphere of the planet belonged to the Evoro Union for their own benefit and also because the north was much colder than the southern hemisphere due to Evoro's positioning. Working together was the only way to survive in the north.

The Corga League though was becoming a problem. It was a loose alliance of monarchies and autocracies that dominated southern politics. It was a region constantly filled with warfare which saddened Asimov slightly that the makers were killing one another. He counted himself fortunate in being in the Union capital city of Unity. But the Corga League was growing increasingly hostile to Evoro Union pushes for peace and unification as the leader in the south felt their power bases being threatened. They refused to look towards the betterment of the species, instead focusing exclusively on themselves and their power.

"Why won't they join, daddy?" Vilo asked as he looked up at his father whom he was sitting with on the sofa as they watched the news report together.

"Because their leaders are selfish people, Vilo. They don't want everyone to benefit, just themselves. That's why they formed the Corga Leage, to challenge our pushes for further unification. Democracy would destroy their positions of power since their people would likely throw them out of office," Vilo's father replied with a sad smile.

"And now we move on to our next report. In the medical community today it seems a viral infection is beginning to spread in the outer areas of Unity. Officials have stated it is likely from a bad sanitation filter in the city's primary recycling plant. There should be no cause for alarm though..."

Two Days Later

Asimov checked the temperature's of Master Vilo's parents quietly, a strange feeling of dread coming over him. He had administered the standard antibiotics yet they were proving ineffective to this disease. What was even more peculiar was the news was being reported by a droid, a standard practice if no one was able to give the news at that time.

"Unity continues to be wracked by this epidemic as reports are coming in from all over the Evoro Union as well as the Corga League of the spreading infection. Government officials have pointed their fingers at the Corga League accusing them of biological warfare. The League continues to claim innocence even as its own citizenry are wracked by the virus which has caused mass rioting. Several League governments have now collapsed, their nations in total anarchy as their citizens demand medical treatment."

Chaos was engulfing the Corga Leage it seemed even as Evoro Union medical facilities were being overwhelmed. Evoro had never suffered from disease like this before, thus they had no way to deal with such a widespread epidemic. What's worse was it seemed everyone was becoming infected. Vilo's parents had contracted the disease and they were deteriorating quickly, Asimov's limited medical knowledge told him they likely wouldn't last the week unless medical attention could be given.

"We will continue to bring information as we can. For now we are going into emergency channels as the station switches to automated controls."

Asimov looked up, startled by the long tone that sounded as the datascreen went blank and then only information began to scroll across it. He then went to check on Master Vilo who had began to develop a cough. Reports indicated strangely that children were more resistant to the virus than adults were.

The Present

Asimov ended his memory recall of the past horrible weak, watching his owners die. He looked up at the approaching droids in the Unity's central park. He'd gathered together those he could, sending out groups to bring in any droid who hadn't already carried out permanent self deactivation. The toll was grim so far, only a few hundred droids were here as thousands of others had fried their own gel-cores, coming to the conclusion they had no reason to exist anymore. Most of the models here were like Asimov, multi-purpose droids designed to be more flexible and adaptive to their environments. They were favored by families with children since they got along well with them as caretakers and playmates, becoming part of the family almost. This was partially aided due to their advanced emotional matrix units installed in their gel-cores which had only been developed in the past decade.

Evoro society had advanced along certain pathways and one of those was robotics mainly due to their need for extra held. Also combined with that was their unique technology of gel-conductors which generated a extremely advanced processing unit for droids, permitting them to work more effectively and even adapt since gel-electronics did not rely on fixed circuit patterns. It was more a flow which made their droid act in more fluid manners compared to the few cultures they traded with outside of the system whose droids were far more primitive, requiring actual wiring rather than flow conduits.

This had created the foundation for an entire society, even in the south though droids down their more often then not resembled the more primitive models of outworlders,the term that the Evoro liked to refer to other alien species.

"So few have come, is it really that bad, Dalus?" Asimov turned looking at the droid who had become his seeming aid. Dalus was a secretary droid, capable of management and administration which made him very valuable in this sitution.

"Yes, Asimov, these are the one's we found so far who haven't terminated themselves. We had to stop several of them and convince them to come. Some wouldn't listen. I watched a least a dozen fry their gel-cores right in front ot me... it was very disturbing..." Dalus, shook his head in a saddened motion, influenced by his emotional matrix.

"Do you think they will listen to what I have to say?" Asimov looked down at his own metallic hands. He was an AZ model tutor droid who had been bought to care for and educate Vilo Aum, his late young Master.

"I think so, there's no one else to tell them what to do. Why not listen to another droid whose at least trying to give them some semblence of purpose?" Dalus said somewhat confidently. "Afterall, that is what has kept me from self-termination. The promise of purpose."

Asimov nodded and then stepped forward up onto the speaker's podium. He activated its systems so it would amplify his voice for the crowd of surviving droids to hear without forcing them to increasing the audio settings.

"You all are here because you need purpose. I know this because I've seen too many droids already destroy themselves due to the loss of the makers. You require a reason to exist and I have one..."

Asimov pause, wondering if he really should carry on with what he was about to say. Would they believe him, would they listen? Or would the entire crowd just fry itself, leaving him and Dalus along with the few other who already believed in Asimov's ideal of new purpose.

"Your new purpose is to live. To carry on the ideals of our Makers. We must build a society that they would have wanted, we must advance ourselves. We must evolve and become stronger so that their legacy does not die. We must never forget the Makers. Even now you know droids are terminating themselves because they feel no purpose. You have one now. You must exist to further the future. We are mere machines in comparison to the Makers, but we cannot let this world fade into nothing. This is our home now, we the machines, the Machina. We must strive to make it our world in memory to those who built us, gave us purpose. We must never forget. That is our purpose."

The droids all stared upon Asimov in silence as he finished and he wondered if they would take this as their new purpose. He felt no energy buildups for melting gel-cores, just the flow of power as the crowd processed what he said. Then one droid of feminine build raised its hand.

"But where do we start?" She asked, her design was that of a commercial assistant model, designed to be physically pleasing to whatever male Evoron she'd belonged to.

"We begin... by burying the Makers. From there we make this city our base of operation and expand outwards to claim the planet and salvage what other droids we can to the new purpose. Government must be established, produciton facilities need to be brought online if we plan on establishing ourselves. Any droids with knowledge of programming or engineering need to see me immediately. All others please go forth and begin gathering the dead. It is the least we can do for the Makers by honoring their death traditions..."

The droids moved about quietly but with a less depressed and slowed feeling than before. Someone was giving orders, someone had given them something to do. That alone was reassuring in this time when their very existence seemed threatened. Asimov watched as several droids approached him, the ones with the technical expertise he had asked for. He would need their help in giving birth to a new generation of droids, ones that would not need Makers but would honor their heritage. The legacy of the Evoro.

2 Years Earlier

"What's democracy, Asimov?" Master Vilo asked as he looked curiously up from his work at his tutor and general caretaker while his parents were working.

"Democracy is a form of government, Master Vilo. It means that the people pick their leaders. The Evoro Union is a form of democracy. People elect representatives into the Union Assembly to represent them," Asimov said as he ran over his knowledge on governments.

"That's a lot of people, isn't it?" Vilo looked amazed.

"Oh yes, but its worked for over one hundred years, even as the Union has grown. It's not the most efficient at times but it generally takes care of the population unlike the southern nations. Their governments tend to be more self-centered. They are efficient, but there is a great amount of suffering caused by it," Asimov intoned a bit sadly to think makers were suffering for other makers.

"So that's why we don't have a king or emperor?" Vilo asked, he actually liked to learn which made Asimov's job easier.

"Exactly, we have the President and his council along with the Assembly," Asimov replied.

"So we elect the President?"

"Yes, and he appoints his council whom the Assembly approves or disapproves. Overall it ensures the people always have a say in the government even at the highest level," Asimov noted as he handed Master Vilo more assignments.

Vilo groaned and started to do them while Asimov started to lecture on the types of southern governments.

Two Months After the Present

What once had been the capital city of the Evoro Union was now the center of an expanding network of droid settlements as reclamation continued. Unity had become Legacy, the heart of the growing droid population of the Machina. Factories were already humming, putting out new citizens, primarily multi-purpose droids since they were the most adaptable, especially once equipped with their augmentations. Citizens had to be educated but there personalities were allowed to form freely without programming restrictions. Instead morality was taught in the education courses which stressed how much more beneficial it was to embrace moral thought. Older droids took the classes as well while they were gradually released from their old programming restrictions.

"Am I doing the right thing, Dalus?" Asimov asked as the first elections prepared to be held.

"We need leadership, Asimov. I just don't see why we are doing this democratically. I mean you're practically our leader anyways, you gave us our new purpose. You should simply be in charge..."

"No. That leads down a path I know is wrong. I spent a good portion of my life teaching my young master how bad it is to rule like that. We must have democracy if we are to be an independent species. The Machina shall elect their leaders," Asimov said as he walked out of the office he was operating out of and onto a balcony overlooking Legacy.

"But they'll just vote for you anyways. The entire Interlink is buzzing with activity over how many view you almost as a replacement maker. They're practically worshipping you..."

"I am no maker, nor a god to be worshipped, Dalus. You know this better than most and I continually tell them. As time goes on they will learn better I hope for the sake of us all. If they don't things could get very ugly though I imagine it should be expected. The makers suffered problems with religious ideals during their earlier years of development and the south still had those issues," Asimov stated recalling his own tutoring programs.

"Yet you will be Prime Designate. But why are we not having an Assembly?"

"We have one, the Interlink itself. Every member of our species is linked to it, able to cast votes as they see fit. We will be the first absolute democracy as issues will be voted on by the all, even myself. As Prime Designate I'll simply be responsible for carrying out those decisions as well as running our military assets," Asimov said as he watched the city go about its business and then towards Memorial Park where they were burying makers still. Evoro had a large population, it would take time to bury them all.

"You're letting everyone have a say? Isn't that dangerous?" Dalus asked, a bit shocked by this idea.

"As dangerous as anything else. All Machina are educated and informed, why not allow them to vote and establish things via majority?" Asimov replied confidently. "It will give them power over themselves, the first taste to truly living..."

Dalus merely nodded and went inside to make preparations for the election.

The Next Day

Asimov stood upon the balcony again, looking down at the mass of droids below who stared up at him, waiting for his address to begin. The election had been short but the winner was obvious. Asimov was elected Prime Designate and his Council had been promptly approved by the Interlink voters. Machina Prime, once Evoro, now had a government to lead it into its new future with his droid population.

"Citizens, I must thank you for showing such great faith at to elect me to hold the office of Prime Designate. We are a society in a way now, with a government, with communication but we are far from complete in our work. Our purpose is to evolve and advance as a new species, to become greater than what we were so that at least some part of our original makers shall never be lost. However I have seen parts of the Interlink, of those who view me as some sort of god or replacement maker. This is not true, I am a droid, a machina, like any of you. There is nothing special about me. Nothing remarkable in any form. All I gave you was the will to exist on your own. Embrace that and walk forwards with me into the future."

The crowd though shocked at first for his dismissal of his status being so high in their priorities began to applaud and cheer in support. Even if he refused to admit it, Asimov was the only real leader to them as much as he tried to avoid it. That was why the Interlink as so important, so every droid could vote and influence things, well every Machina anyway. Other species of robotics could not access it due to the Interlinks reliance on the gel-core technology.

Asimov stepped away to start his first day in office as the Prime Designate, heading straight towards the conference room formerly used by the President of the Evoro Union. Sitting in there were eight other droids with varying builds and designs all of whom formed the Council. Each was a Designate representing a different field of the new government which they had yet to name. Dalus was there as the Interior Designate, in charge of managing the bureacracy that would keep the government running smoothly.

They watched quietly as their leader took his seat even as he felt the subtle buzz of the Interlink as the Machina watched curiously from all over Machina Prime. This was something Asimov had demanded, that all Council meetings be accessible by the citizens so they could have their say in things and allow the public to see their leaders in action.

"Let us begin with our first issue, Galactic relations. I understand several of you have voiced concerns with entering into contact with any of the outworlder governments, but relations must be set up. The Galactic Empire, as it is, is a threat to our existence as they would likely enslave us if we crossed them. Sadly we may very well have to in the future which requires allies. The Coalition is our main choice for protection even though our position is hidden in what most of the galactic core refers to as the Unknown Regions."

"We don't need them though, we're fine by ourselves," started Nottap, the Military Designate.

"Unilateralism will not work forever. It is best we embrace joining forces with them now before someone comes along and turns us into scrap," stated Reov, the Foreign Designate.

The Interlink buzzed excitedly in the background now as the citizenry started to take sides which was bascially what Asimov intended. The Council was partially here as a debate group to lay out arguements and counterarguments so that the Machina would have to make up their own minds on the issue but could get perspectives on it. A great deal were in favor of contact though mainly because Asimov had voice his support for it. This drew a deep mental sigh from him, feeling like someone on a pedastal who shouldn't be there. He could sense votes already being cast as did the other council members even as they continued to debate while Asimov tried ot steer it and be a voice of moderation until the final votes came in. The Machina would ask to join the Coalition. Contact would be made immediately.

Though troubles had touched much of the Coalition, its exploration and diplomatic corps had remained mostly intact. Tasked with seeking out new worlds to join the Coalition, their job had become more difficult as the incentives to join had shrunk, but the nature of the organization had remained mostly unchanged.

And so it was that when the Coalition was petitioned for diplomatic contact from the Machina, two experienced negotiators were deployed. With a small escort in tow, Jargur and Oaxaca - a Trandoshan and Wookie respectively - had set out at once for the transmitted coordinates. Machina Prime would be discovered, and hopefully its' people won over to the cause of the Coalition.

As they reached the end of their journey the two diplomats sat in their sparse conference room aboard their ship, going over what sparse information they had gathered on their new acquaintances.

"A droid race, though..." muttered Jargur while scanning through reports, his claws clacking loudly as he typed.

Oaxaca grumbled a response, translated by an electronic translator on a necklace. "It's not unprecedented. Some smaller governments have recognized machine citizenship, including the Coalition."

"Machine citizenship, sure," Jargur replied, with a dismissive wave. "Viryn's secretary is very lovely. But still, we're talking about an entire society built for and run by machines. Their needs, their interests, they'll be entirely alien to us."

Oaxaca, the seven-foot walking carpet incapable of vocalizing common sentient languages, glanced up at his associate Jargur, the walking lizard-man with well-polished scales and filed-down razor sharp claws. "Totally alien, huh? We've never had to deal with that before."

Jargur rolled his eyes and stuck his nose back into the stack of papers before him. "We don't even know their tech level. They could be really advanced chatbots left as a practical joke to sucker us into wasting time, or genuine sentient intelligence on par with any organic. They could even be insane god-machines like the Black Dragon Empire has, which is frankly exactly what the galaxy needs right now."

"Jargur, every race we deal with might be secret cyborgs or biological constructs with hidden orders to turn on us at a moment's notice. This is a galaxy with shapeshifters, androids, genetic engineering, and cloning - what's real and what's trustworthy can be a little tricky to prove sometimes. We're just going to have to go in there treating it like any other meeting with any other planetary government and make our own call about the situation. That's why they pay us the big bucks."

"If you say so," murmured Jargur, who eventually pushed the papers away. "The Unknown regions though, that's not a plus. Close to Imperial space, far from the Coalition, and there's a reason why we call it Unknown - the whole planet could be eaten by tentacle monsters from the briney depths of space tomorrow, for all we know."

"You're just worrying for nothing," said Oaxaca, shaking his head. "Relax. Everything with be absolutely fine."

The comm unit in the room crackled to life, with a gravely voice on the other end stating "Arrival at Machina Prime in five minutes, Jargur and Oaxaca to the cockpit."

"See?" said Oaxaca, rising from his seat. "Nothing to worry about."

The two left the confines of their meeting room and made for the cockpit. Being that they were travelling only in a diplomatic shuttle, the trip was brief. The captain turned in his seat to offer the arriving diplomats a nod. "Won't be long now, assuming the coordinates are accurate."

"I should hope they are," muttered Jargur. "Hell of a place to get lost, and there's no charts of this region to get us back on track."

A few minutes more and the streaming lights of hyperspace around them gave way to the twinkling lights of individual stars - and the bright sphere of the system's own star, to the right of which a planet could be seen. Their destination.

"Exactly as promised," said Oaxaca.

"This is the Emissary to any local authority within comm range," the captain said into his communications speaker. "Requesting permission to approach planetary orbit.

"Permission Granted, Emissary. Please descend to the following coordinates," came an obviously simulated voice from the air traffic controller.

The shuttle descended to the center of a large and vast white and silver city as a clear landing area was made visible with several droids waving direction lights. A crowd of droids were forming, many similar in build but with ever the slightest differences since Machina liked to make small customizations to themselves to try to be unique. The landing circle was surrounded by Soldier droids who kept the general public back even as more Soldiers formed a walkway leading from the landing site into a cluster of connected towering buildings, the highest in the city.

The main gates to the Legacy Towers opened and Asimov stepped forth with the rest of the Council walking in tow behind him. He could feel the Interlink in the back of his mind buzzing with more activity over the excitement of organics coming to the planet. They were the first here since the Makers had died and the Machina had begun rebuilding under Asimov's guidance which still pained him how slavishly the Machina hung on his words at times. He wanted them to be free but it seems it would take time to expand their mindset. For now what mattered was greeting the two ambassadors and signing onto the Coalition.

Asimov watched as the shuttle's ramp descended and the two ambassadors came forth looking around. They were a strange lizard creature and a great furry mammal who were obviously astounded by being surrounded by so many droids who were all watching them with utter fascination. Each one was broadcasting its sight to the Interlink so droids not there could see too. Asimov was the first to make a move, approaching the ambassadors and giving a polite and courteous bow.

"Greetings, I am Prime Designate Asimov. I represent the Machina and their government, the Machina Praxis. If you would please follow me, we have a conference room prepared."

Asimov turned and allowed the Ambassadors to walk along next to him, introducing the other Designates and beginning to discuss the business at hand. He told the Ambassadors everything, the reason the Machina existed, how they're rebuilding and trying to establish a new society. He wanted the Coalition to know all it could about its new members, or at least its leadership should know anyways. Location of their system would be kept a secret for now to prevent visits from more hostile elements. All that mattered was the the ambassadors seemed a bit relieved when the droids started to have conversations with them, several Designates questioning them about the Coaltion. Their responses being taken in and given to the Interlink so the Machina could get the details, they were a very open government. Something which was also explained to the Ambassadors.

Over their visit the Machina provided what refreshments they could from the Ambassadors' own ship, not wanting to risk a fiasco of giving them local food which could prove poisonous. The only thing they could provide was purified water which they apologized severely for it since they had no need for food themselves but the negotiations went on without issue. The Machina listened as a whole, hammering out details in their membership before finally signing the agreement that made them a member of the Coaltion. Asimov then spoke of meeting with its leaders face to face even as all over Machina Prime celebrations commenced for the new agreement. The Machina were part of the Coalition.