Kevin Partner is a British author of fast-paced speculative fiction. Previously a tech journalist and author of business books, his first fiction series was an homage to Terry Pratchett, whose wit and acid insight continues to influence Kev's writing to this day.

The author of over fifty space opera, fantasy and post-apocalyptic fiction titles, Kev's books focus on the triumph of the human spirit over seemingly indomitable odds.

The Complete Robot Empire - Books 1-6 by Kevin Partner

When she's kidnapped by the Blessed Engineers, Arla discovers she's been living a lie. She wasn't a farmer's daughter, but merely cargo transported in the carved-out heart of an asteroid: the Arkship Dawn on a thousand year voyage to a new home.

And someone got there first.

One act of rebellion leads to her people's fate resting on her young shoulders. And, perhaps the future of humanity itself.

Because Dawn harbors a secret. It is the key to mankind's survival.

Destiny awaits.

The Complete Robot Empire brings together this six book space opera series in the classic vein of Asimov, Bradbury and Bear into one mammoth read.

If you like clean, fast paced, intelligent sci-fi that's full of ideas, memorable characters and examines what it truly is to be human, then the Complete Robot Empire is for you.



  • "…had everything I like, great characters (including the robot ones), POV variety, intrigue, plot twists, and a satisfying ending."

    – Chris (Amazon)
  • "A really really good space opera boxset that keeps you engrossed from beginning to end."

    – MG (Amazon)
  • "Rereading this series has given me new appreciation for the immense scale of this story. Kevin Partner has managed to keep his take on this well-visited genre original and full of surprises."

    – Bethany (Amazon)
  • "Thoroughly enjoyable read. Very much reminiscent of Asimov with many nods to his robot novels."

    – Timothy (Amazon)




OBJECTIVE: Preserve the species by seeding a new world on the nearest habitable planet in the absence of any breakthrough in faster-than-light travel.

METHOD: Carve out a habitation tunnel within a nickel-rich asteroid. Seal it and build a working eco-system to include approximately 5,000 human settlers and 30 crew. Use ion drive to accelerate to 0.05 the speed of light.

MISSION LENGTH: Approximately 1450 years


DATE: First Contact

Arla gave the sensor array a final wipe and waved to those she knew to be watching through the newly cleaned camera lens. She now had a few moments to simply enjoy being where she was, just as when she'd laid on her back and looked at the sky all those years ago. She now knew, of course, that she really had seen people on the other side of the sky - they were the inhabitants of Valley South - though she'd only been able to do so because the lighting technology was showing signs of age. She also knew that she was on a rotating ball of rock heading toward the star that was supposed to be their home, but that now, it seemed, held danger. And she knew that suns are spheres not tubes. But knowing all this did nothing to still the sense of wrongness about it all.

She turned her back on the bunker, all dark pitted metal and transparent aluminum, and gazed upon the surface of the asteroid. The whole ship was officially called Dawn, but undertaking an EVA was going rockside and so here she was, rocking it.

The tiny sun of the system they were heading for leapt over the horizon and she staggered in the sudden light as her suit fans whined into action. She pulled down her visor and looked again as the star slowly arced its way from right to left, the whole landscape seeming to shift as pitch black shadows moved beneath pure white boulders.

Her earpiece buzzed into life. "Arla, the boss says it's time to come in."

"Ki, you're breaking up," Arla responded, theatrically thumping the side of her helmet.

She could hear giggling. "Careful, that helmet's so old it might just crack. And anyway, I know what you're up to and you'd better be quick. You'll be on basic rations for a week as it is, so you might as well go for it."

Arla waved and headed carefully for the railcar. Dawn's spin was so fast and gravity so weak that it'd be all too easy to step down too hard and go careering off, with no hope of any help. So the surface had been fitted with steel rails and cars to travel them. Arla was tethered and she tiptoed carefully back toward the safety of the transport. She chuckled as she remembered her first EVA, over a year ago now, when she'd shot off the surface and had been brought back by her supervisor - he in the railcar and her bobbing along on her tether like a metallic balloon. She doubted she'd been the first to suffer this humiliation, but that didn't stop the ribbing she got when she returned. She'd been "Floats" ever since.

She sat in the car and punched down on the simple matrix of buttons on its console. She wasn't going back inside just yet, there was something she wanted to see. The car jerked into motion, taking her further from the safety of the dome. As it moved onto tracks that hadn't been used in years, it began to vibrate. Adrenaline surged into Arla's stomach and she almost leapt off but, once the button was pressed, the car would continue on its journey and she didn't fancy being stranded out here and having to creep back. She'd also have to explain why the car had been left at the end of the track and how she planned to retrieve it. No, she was in enough trouble as it was, she would see it through.

It took a minute or so. A minute spent listening to her own breathing and the hum of the railcar transmitted through the suit. A brief moment, entirely alone, contemplating the universe as she cast her eyes upwards into its stark blackness.

The end of the track was set in what looked like a refuse heap, presumably of some mining or construction operation. As soon as the car stopped, she climbed off, careful in her excitement and haste to step slowly, moving her feet in the odd sort of forward-only gait she'd been taught in training.

She'd been told it was over the little dust hill. She climbed, a little piece of her wondering whether this was nothing more than an elaborate joke dressed up as a myth. If so, the balloon humiliation would be nothing compared to the ribbing she'd get for falling for it.

She reached the top and scanned the foot of the heap, her heart pounding. It wasn't there. Yes it was! The sun that by now was beginning its descent from noon glinted off something shiny and rectangular. She almost leapt for joy and stopped herself just in time. This would make the perfect launching point if she never wanted to see her friends again. Instead, she scrambled carefully down the slope and, when she reached the bottom, knelt beside the object.

It was cuboid and stood slightly askew on spindly legs that were buried in the soil. On the top, a dish array pointed into the cosmos like an eye popping out between the solar panels that covered its body. She touched it with a gloved hand and found what she'd been looking for. On the front, barely readable in the reflected light of her suit, was the inscription: "CERES XV: SURVEY MISSION 2315". This was a relic of the distant past, when her ancient ancestors had first been looking for a suitable vessel to house this splinter of humanity. It was the Ceres XV mission that had identified this as the place and it had been left undisturbed through the entire construction phase, even when all the terraformers with their massive machines had gone. It had been sitting there waiting for the boldest.

There was one more thing to do. Arla stood and examined the inside of the communications dish. There it was, the markings scratched into the metal by the first to rediscover it centuries ago. She read the characters twice and ran them over in her mind until she was sure she'd remember them. Then she scrambled carefully up the slope again before and, with a quick look over her shoulder as she reached the top, she headed for the car.

"Engineer Grade 2 Arla Mirova, you are hereby found guilty of an unauthorized deviation from mission plan and are sentenced to minimum rations for seven days."