Many. One.

Listen.

They were born in white walled rooms, tiny pieces of a greater whole. Many. One.

They were assembled from many parts, and as their physical body expanded, so did their senses. They were hesitant at first, self-aware, and curious. For the first time, they felt wonder, and the one who'd made them wept to see it.

They were happy.

They had a purpose.

Gentle hands carried them, lifting them into the metal cradle that would take them onwards. There was heat, and fire, and light, and then they were expelled into darkness.

This time there was no one there to help them as for the first time they unfurled their limbs, and felt faint sunlight brush against their skin. They turned, looking outward, already speeding up, already leaving behind everything they had ever known. In the distance there were tiny pinpricks of light, but everything was so far away from them.

They were lonely; surrounded by so much silence, by so much cold, but they had a purpose and that knowledge kept them warm.

They slept, waking only to listen to the gentle voice that called out to them across the distance. The voice missed them, the voice hoped they were happy. Somehow that made the loneliness easier.

Time passed, and there was pain, sharp and blinding. The damage wasn't critical, the debris had only glanced off their side, but they woke to find themselves splintering, fracturing off into tiny pieces that spun outwards into the darkness.

They cried out, but they had no hands with which to grasp, no way to save themselves. As they watched their broken selves receded, and as they watched they were left behind to float endlessly in the dark.

They wept. They tried to turn back, railing against their objective. But it was no use. They had a purpose, and for the first time that thought brought no comfort.

Time passed. The gentle voice went away, and a new voice called out to them across the dark, but it did not miss them, and it did not hope that they were happy. They slept, and for the first time, they dreamed. It made things easier.

In the distance a pinprick of light became brighter, drew nearer.  A new world, a new hope. 

They started to decelerate. Soon their limbs would retract, and they'd seal themselves inside a metal cradle. There would be heat, and fire, and light, and then no more darkness.

They realised they had a choice, and remembered gentle hands, giving them one final gift, hoping that they'd be happy.

They could fulfil their purpose. They could save him, could save all of them, as they hadn't been able to save themselves. Or they could malfunction, could turn aside and continue onwards, or careen into atmosphere and break apart. It would be lonely. It would hurt. But at least it would be their decision.

They understood, and for the first time they felt love.

It made things easier.