Prolog

Imagine.

Imagine you were born when the galaxy was young, under the light of one of the first stable second generation stars formed out of the dead husk of a hypergiant, that brought the heavier elements into being; a requirement for the evolution of multi-cellular life.

Imagine you evolved under the crushing pressure of many gravos and the invisible fire of radiation storms scorching the outer fringes of the galactic core. The atmosphere of your home is a soup hellish enough to send Beelzebub himself running, a boiling mixture of sulphur dioxide, nitrogen and carbon dioxide.

Imagine an intelligence formed by this satanic environment, minds without a sense of being, without self-awareness. Creativity, processing power, flexible problem solving capabilities, intellect in abundance – but no sentience. Without sentience no empathy, without empathy no concept of compassion, friendship, mercy, pity or love.

Imagine you not only don’t know the meaning of these words – literally. You also lack the neurological makeup to ever understand the concepts underlying them.

It’s not your fault pal. Evolution is a bitch.

Imagine you are the perfect Von Neumann machine, ruled only by the ancient imparativ common to all beings, under all stars, that ever produced a second generation: Survive! This primitive urge pushes you out of the toxic sulfur seas, where your ancestors dreamed and spun slow, dark thoughts for uncounted aeons. It sends you to the endless darkness between the stars, in search of new habitats.

Space is dark and silent and you are the wolves on the prowl, the Milky Way your hunting ground. You spread like an infection from the galactic centre, a mere 500000 years after the first deep space ship left the star of your birth your empire encompasses the complete galaxy including the Magellan Cloud. Occasionally you encountered life on your travels, ranging from microbes to star faring cultures. Without exception it is first studied for any useful information it might posses, then exterminated. The