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(created 2012-11-19 02:52):
For teh contest, obviously. Suggestions and comments are welcome and very appreciated!
Thankees. <3
Hooray for teh lazy backstory:
Long, long ago, there was a land filled with gears and pistons. The gears spun, and the pistons continually pushed inwards and outwards, inwards and outwards. Cogs ground, and wires sparked. Twas the Clockwork Kingdom. In this realm, the inhabitants were the Hokwor, a very meek and quite cowardly race. They preferred science and personal/political gain over fighting or relationships, and the smartest of the Hokwor built automatons to serve themselves.
Eventually, some of the more greedy Hokwor began to create automatons which specialised in fighting and war. This caused a large war to break out--the Clockwork Catastrophe.
Millennia later, the Hokwor (which had matured substantially as a species) unearthed the remains of the Clockwork Catastrophe. The rusted rubble of outdated technology--gears and pistons from the automatons. Most of it was sent to museums, but some, the least salvageable, were simply sent to a recycling plant for reuse.
Which brings this tale to our subject. Her name is Jemki. She is an ingenious inventor, but is also quite, quite meek. Deep inside, she is very courageous, however. She went into the recycling plant to salvage the "unsalvageable" scrap before it would be turned into new chips and metal wires and plates, and built something from it.
She built what she called Klohkwerks. It was made from the broken, rusty, barely usable remains of an automaton from the Clockwork Catastrophe. Not a fighting automaton, but a simple slavematon. By combining the dismembered gears and pistons with the new, futuristic chips, drives, and data processors, Jemki was able to give Klohkwerks the AI it deserved. And then the automaton began to relate to her its tale. How once it was a slave, and then how it had been forced to fight for its master. A story with sadness, and betrayal.
Unfortunately, because I'm really tired and falling asleep at the keyboard, the story in which I speak of is a story for another time.