The bridge shuddered from ordinance meeting the Barin's shields. "Another barage like that will bring down our shields!" reported Ashfling, Second Quill of the Barin's. Primary Quill Chlorush's skin colored in irritation, "Turn 87 degrees port, rotate the shield frequencies and prepare for a broadside. Instruct the gunner crews to coordinate their fire on-"

Chlorush was interrupted by a fleet wide broadcast, "This is Alpha Prime Diphique, a human dreadnought has exited FTL in the system. Cease fire and maintain positions! Alpha Prime repeats, cease fire and maintain positions."

Barin's crew jumped at the orders, not needing Chlorush to repeat them. Immediately they safed the weapons and cut the engines, but maintained the shields. Incoming fire evaporated simultaneously, their enemy receving similar orders.

One of the junior crew members looked around on confusion. "Prime, why must we stand down when a human ship enters the system? Surely they are no threat to our entire war fleet?"

Chlorush's eyes nearly popped off their stalks in surprise. "Primary Chlorush knew the academy's were rushing recruits through, but Primary Chlorush had no idea just how much they skipped." he couldn't help but give his second in command a look of bewilderment that was returned in kind.

"Sven Quill Hyalyat, the humans are incredibly dangerous. Their first encounter with non-humans was the Imperium, our former masters. The imperium sought to add the humans as another vassal species, but humans balked at the idea, they refused."

Ashfling interjected, "The humans value independence, even when they enslave their own kind. The galaxy found out the hard way that humans must be masters of their own destiny."

Hyalyat's eye stalks were rigid in equal surprise and fear. "What happened?"

"The imperium went to war with the humans, but the humans have another trait - adaptability. They adapted to space warfare faster than any other species. They recovered and reverse engineered technologies from every species they could steal it from. Then they adapted those technologies into fearsome weapons."

"Do you know of the Travbend Nebula, Sven Quill?"

"Sven Quill Hyalyat does."

"That nebula is all that remains of the Imperium core worlds."

"Humans are the reason the Imperium no longer exists, why we are free. To invite the humans into battle-"

"-is to invite them to deliver your doom."

A nondescript comm slate vibrated loudly on the wooden table accompanied by a klaxon like sound chosen during setup. It's owner, an F-tier supe that's simply known as the Cleaner pulled his attention away from the diorama he was working on.

He worked his jaw back and forth, debating whether or not to answer the call while glaring at the infernal device. It finally fell silent as if cowed by Cleaners stare alone, but he knew better, the caller would call back again. Several heartbeats passed and the device sprung to life again, the vibrations sending it dancing towards the edge. As if knowing it's own doom awaited it on the stone floor below, the slate paused at the edge of the table before vibrating itself over the edge.

Cleaner snatched it well before it met it's untimely end. He stabbed the accept call button and merely grunted. Jordan, his handler from the supe agency was on the line. "Got a supe who can materialize matter with a thought took some psychedelics and, well, you know what that results in. No other supes can get close enough to knock him out. Delta city, 350 kicks to the west."

"On my way." Cleaner's gruff voice responded. Jordan had been Cleaner's handler for years at this point and knew how stoic the oft derided supe was. But they called Cleaner in for dirty jobs like these because the results spoke for themselves.

A short time later Cleaner stood at the edge of what appeared to be an abstract painting. The buildings were disproportionate and leaning in impossible directions. Colors shifted and danced before his very eyes, it was almost nauseating. Digging around in a pocket, Cleaner fished out the Comm slate, laboriously typing out a single word, "Clear?" and sending it to Jordan. The response was immediate, "negative. Civilians in the area, possibly supes, too."

Cleaner typed out and sent 'Ack', holding back a sigh of frustration. Witnesses meant that this was going to be more difficult than it should be. 'Penance' , he thought. 'Millenia of abusing my power, and I pay for it here.' The comm slate disappeared back into a pocket while he contemplated how to approach the problem.

While he worked the problem in his mind, a bony creature with impossibly misshapen wings flapped loudly overhead. Several meters outside the city the loud colors melted away, revealing a pigeon underneath. Freed from it's burden the pigeon found another gear and sped off in search of normalcy.

'Interesting. Once that bird escaped the area of effect the changes melted away. Maybe the powers have a range limit? Or is it an illusion? Either way, that gives me an idea.' Cleaner reached into his memory, trying to recall a particular ability he developed lifetimes ago, but never needed again.

Ah, there it was! A special vision to see through illusions. Cleaners eyes remained the same, they didn't glow or change. But now he could see the real city underneath the imagery. It wasn't an illusion, more of an overlay of strange matter that made the city appear as it did. Cleaner instinctively knew what to do. Instead of thinking about the problem, he instead focused his attention on finding the supe responsible for the mess, trusting his subconscious to keep the matter from affecting him.

Several blocks in he had to stop and let melting eyeballs cross in front of him. 'I've traveled through several universes, and never once did I experience reality as bizarre as this.' he mused silently to himself. A block before the trees lining the street were dancing to a tune no one could hear, some were coordinated while others appeared to dance to a different tune.

Jordan was right, though. There were civilians and supes caught up in the psychedelic effects. One persons legs grew comically large when extended forward as they walked, but shrunk back to normal as it passed under the person's body. A random c-tier sup was plastered as a stylized mime frantically trying to find a door to the invisible box they were locked inside of.

More blocks further defied description. A mix of fluffy substances mixed with demonic imagery painted the scene before him. Cleaner knew he was getting close, though his special vision he could see that the strange matter was seeping into the objects it covered. He called a temporal lens, an ability allowing him to pull on the fabric of space-time to see into the future or past.

He paused to speed time forward through the lense. What he saw dismayed him, if he didn't resolve the situation soon, everything affected by the strange matter would permanently morph into a sludge that would threaten the entire planet. If that happened, Cleaner could reverse it, but to do so he would stretch the fabric of space-time to the breaking point. He knew from experience that if that happened, this universe was doomed.

Dismissing the T-lense Cleaner hurried to find the affected sup. Laughter carried on peculiar winds reached his ears. The strange matter played havoc on the propagation of sound, adding another level of difficulty in locating it's source. Cleaner cycled his vision through many modes until he found one that showed brain activity of living creatures. 'I should have thought to use this sooner.' he chided himself.

There, third floor of a mixed use building was a chaotic signal. Now that he had a focus on the source, Cleaner could sense the strange matter materializing with every heartbeat of the supe, surging out in successive waves.

Cleaner looked around surreptitiously, but ultimately decided that no one was in their right minds due to the strange matter. He leapt into the air and flew directly for the supe, phasing through buildings for expediency. He stopped next to the supe, strange matter flowing around Cleaner like water around a rock.

'Beng able to manipulate life and living cells would help out here, I curse the fates for keeping that from me, especially now.' He considered his options, resigning himself to falling back on manipulating space-time itself. He wrapped the supe in a temporal field, separating him from this reality temporarily. Inside the field, Cleaner accelerated time so the psychedelics worked their way through the supes system. Only when the supes brain signals smoothed out did Cleaner return time to it's normal flow.

'And now I have a life out of synch with this reality. Bringing him back could be disastrous. Must do this carefully.' From the perspective of Cleaners reality, hours crawled by. No longer fed by the sup, the strangeness began dissipating from the edges. Finally Cleaner dropped the temporal field around the supe. Satisfied that the supe was synced properly, Cleaner left the apartment, speeding across the rooftops.

Alighting upon a tree branch, Cleaner once again fished out his Comm slate, pressing the icon for Jordan. "I'm going to need a bigger mop."

Thanks! I wrote more, a few more posts to get the story to a good stopping point. I hope you enjoy it :-)

May not be the big bombastic story I originally intended, but I've been enjoying diving into the smaller scope and character driven story writing and I think this has turned out exactly as I needed it to.

Jackson stood motionless, his mind short circuiting at the sight of an alien standing before him, and one that wasn't trying to kill him, either. "uhhhhh" was all that he could manage.

The Jinisha chuckled lightly, an oddly human trait that further broke Jackson's brain. "I see you are a bit overwhelmed. It is understandable. I will keep speaking until you regain your faculties, is that OK?"

Jackson nodded, his helmet jerking forward and backward from the motion. Something deep within his brain kicked him, nodding may not be understood by this alien." Y-yes." It took tremendous effort to get that single word out, but there it was.

"My name is Oolyai." The alien pronounced his name slowly as ooh-lie-eh for Jackson benefit. "We have been at war with the Ascendant for many years, and obviously we have lost. As will your people, too, eventually. The Ascendant are relentless, a phage that is overtaking the galaxy." Oolyai gently motioned for Jackson to follow him as he turned to walk deeper into the lush greenery around them. Jackson followed, what choice did he have?

"For some years we maintained a stalemate with them, keeping them contained within a specific region. So long as they were left to ravage the region, they didn't push the boundaries we had established. Eventually they ran out of systems to feed their need for conquest. That's when our containment failed." The pair had reached creek, actual flowing water. Near them, a half meter tall waterfall added it's babbling to the sounds of a living space, something Jackson just now noticed.

There were creature calls, insects buzzing, and all the trappings of a living, breathing space. The primal yearning was still there, wanting to rip his suit off and embrace a living, natural space. But he did not give in to that primal urge, partially because his brain was rebooting from it's stunned state.

Oolyai gracefully sat upon a plant that Jackson expected to not support the large aliens body. Oolyai folded his hands in his lap and stared at the creek beside him, mesmerized by it.

"Compared to human technology, even ascendant technology, the Jinisha is a wonder of engineering and technology. I wish I could say that this ship is the counter to the Ascendant, but it is not. It is nothing more than a fancy luxury yacht." Jackson had almost gotten over his shock, but now that Oolyai showed hostile emotion a different circtuit tripped.

Jackson shook his head to clear it, a different emotion welled up burning away the confusion, shock and awe and replacing it with frustrated duty.

"So if this ship isn't some superweapon to help us in the war against the ascendant, why bring me here? Why reveal yourself to us? What is your motivation, purpose?"

Oolyai slumped, suddenly looking older than a moment before. Slowly he reached into the creek, his hand emerging with a small device cradled in his grasp.

"There are a thousand answers to those simple questions, Casey Jackson. I'm lonely. I'm dying. But most of all..." Oolyai gently stroked the device with his other hand lovingly, like a parent. "because my work is complete." he finished in a whisper.

Moments crawled by, then suddenly Oolyai snapped his focus back to Jackson. "This is the Pherelli seed, my life's work and a two fold answer to the Ascendant."

Jackson fought off the urge to take a step backwards, they way Oolyai spoke make it sound like the seed was dangerous, triggering his fight or flight response. "What does it do?" he surprised himself in how firm his voice was, belying his fear.

"Tell me, Casey Jackson, how much do you value your humanity?" Oolyai's question almost sounded pleading. A heartbeat passed and Oolyai continued before Jackson could respond, "Would you be willing to give it up, to become something else, possibly a monster, to save your species?" Oolyai grew visibly weaker, slowly he extended the seed to Jackson, small tremors causing the hand to visibly shake.

"Take the seed, human. Let it transform you." Oolyai's voice became weaker. "It will make you immune to the Ascendants phage, but also allow you to deliver the cure to them. The phage... Is the Ascendant." Oolyai took one last breath and then he was gone, his outstretched arm falling slowly to his side, seed still in it's grasp as his body slumped forward.

Jackson didn't move. A war raged within him, take the seed or leave it? Deliver the seed back to the navy or take it and use it on himself? How would he use it? How does it work? More questions than answers.

He was startled out of his reverie when the little bot appeared next to him. From no discernable source the bot was relaying transmissions from the fleet, they had arrived and were looking for him.

Throughout history, people did things they thought that they would never do. And for the rest of their lives they could never fully explain what drove them to do those things. Angels? Demons? The spirit of a loved one? God's? Biology? Instinct? Any and all answers could be correct, but never verified.

How would history look back upon this moment? Would it be re-written to make Jackson more heroic than following some unseen power driving him forward? No, there had to be a humanity in the future to look back on this moment, to have a history past this point. And that was all Jackson needed to decide - for better and for worse, he decided that humanity needed to survive. To have a history to look back to this moment.

Gingerly he plucked the seed from Oolyai's grasp. "Alright, I've made my decision Oolyai. How do I use the seed?"

"Grasp the seed in your hand. With your free hand press the top of the seed and an interface will appear." Oolyai's voice emanated from the small bot behind Jackson.

"OK, done. What do I enter?" The recording of Oolyai walked Jackson through entering the code despite the unfamiliar symbols. The last one was blue, the Jinisha's preference for a ready status. Taking a deep breath, Jackson pressed the last symbol.

The seed shot needles through his glove and stabbed into his flesh. Jackson would have yelped in surprise, but whatever the seed pumped into his body sent fire through his veins.

Time passed. Consciousness came and went, pain flared and went away. When he finally awoke, Jackson was different. He felt it, he knew it. And he had a new purpose. He rose, a feeling of strength and power coursed throughout his new body. The bot was nearby, waiting patiently for instructions.

"Come little bot, we have work to do." He said as he stalked out of the living chamber. Today was the beginning of the end of the Ascendant.

I really need to get better at being more succinct in my story telling, but as I dive into prompts like this I can't help but world build and delve deep into the story like this.

If you read this whole thing, thanks! See you on the next prompt!

Silently Jackson was cursing himself for not maintaining better situational awareness while his ship was being driven to the one in which he now walked, following a bot on a journey he had no frame of reference for. By his estimates, the alien ship was in the capital class, tonnage in the hundreds of thousands with a keel stretching well past a kilometer.

"Uh, ship? Bot? How long has it been since we landed?"

"Twelve minutes. Your fleet is expected in sixteen minutes." The disembodied voice answered.

"Uh, thanks. Normally I'd be able to tell this for myself, but the war with the Ascendant has limited the navy's supply of fighter helmets. If you're not flying a fighter, you get an analog helmet, like mine." He rapped gloved knuckle against the helmet, a hollow sound echoing in his ears. A welcome sound, a sound of normalcy.

"Your ship is devoid of much information about your species and the war with the Ascendant. What do you know of the war?" The voice seemed genuinely curious.

"They're the first alien, sorry, the umm, correct term I think is xenospecies? That humanity has experienced since we started colonizing new worlds. Until the Ascendant arrived, we only found flora and non-sapient creatures on planets. Never any evidence of sapient civilizations, anywhere. No fossils, no ruins."

"You thought you were alone." It wasn't a question.

"We did. People smarter than me debated whether or not we were truly unique in the cosmos, or we just haven't searched far enough. The galaxy is a big place, after all." The bot turned for a bulkhead that bloomed open upon the bots approach. Jackson felt he'd never get used to that. Beyond the new portal was another stale corridor, more walking, more following the little bot.

"I sort of wish I could have been in the room when the universes biggest 'I told you so!' was dropped." He chuckled at the thought. "The story goes that the Ascendant appeared in one of our systems with the most potential - multiple habitable planets and moons, or near habitable with some minor terraforming required."

"Was this system near the edge of human territories?"

"Not quite, the frontier had moved beyond it, but only by a handful of lightyears. Thing is, the Ascendant ship was small, only a fourty meter keel. A scout. And that's all it took to completely destroy sixth fleet that was stationed there. The colonies stopped responding soon after."

" Did you ever visit a system that went silent after the Ascendant arrived?"

"No, or at least I'm not told we have succeeded in that mission. I think the plug was pulled after the fifteenth or sixteenth scout failed to report back." Being a scout himself, Jackson felt a shiver run down his spine.

"I sense your doubts."

"There's whisperings amongst my fellow scouts that one managed to make it back with pictures and video."

"What they found were horrifying, even by the worst of your human standards." Despite being empathetic, there was a vehemence underlining the statement that caught Jackson off guard.

"Humans are capable of serious atrocities. According to the rumor mill, the Ascendant make the worst we've committed look like child's play." Images swam in Jacksons vision, sourced from merely words and put into horrific pictures.

"They're infected with a nano-phage, turning them into abominations of flesh and metal. Towers loom over the lands made from the bones of those that didn't survive the initial infection. They were the lucky ones. The survivors, fully conscious and aware but totally helpless to do anything, locked out of their own bodies that are forced to ravage the planets resources to feed the Ascendants ever hungry war machine."

"I-uh-yes. The whisperings only spoke of implants and towers made from bone, not the rest." Jackson was too shocked to say anything more.

"We have long fought what you are calling the Ascendant, but ultimately failed to achieve the numbers necessary to meet them head on. They are a shadow, snuffing out the spark of life wherever their shadow touches."

"We? Who's we? How could you not take on the Ascendant? This ship is far more advanced than the tech we've managed to salvage from them. We're behind, sure, but catching up quickly. This ship... You have technology beyond even that of the Ascendant."

A blank bulkhead like all others stood before them, the bot stopped a meter before it. Jackson caught different colors of light bouncing off the wall, the bot sending some sort of signal. Unlike every other iris they passed through since his arrival, this one did not bloom open brilliantly or silently. A hum filled the air, vibrating Jacksons teeth. Haltingly the petals of the iris ground open, not having been used in a very long time.

What laid beyond caught Jackson's breath, a lush garden spread before him. Alien trees proudly stood over grass and moss, a misty haze floating lazily among the scene. Vine like plants hung in great swooping arcs from the branches of the trees. Jackson's eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he saw insects flitting about. A stark contrast to the sterile appearance of the rest of the ship.

Silently the bot glided forward, undaunted by the sudden change of scenery. Jackson followed, trying to take in everything all at once, craning his head every which way. How he wished he could take his helmet off and smell the air, the trees. He yearned to rip his helmet off, to eliminate this artificial barrier between him an nature. The power of the primal need surprised him, his hands slowly rose to grasp either side of his helmet.

"I advise against that, Casey Jackson. Your biology is incompatible with the environment here. You would die, and unfortunately it would be a slow and painful death." Jackson was surprised, he could pinpoint the voice, it was no longer emanating from the bulkheads themselves.

From the mist a figure materialized. Tall, taller than most humans, but proportionately built. Jackson had no misconceptions about who would win in a physical fight, the alien that stood before him no doubt could easily snap his neck with a flick of their wrist.

"Welcome to the Ididerial, the last ship of the Jinisha people. My people, of which I am the last of."

The hull loomed large in his cockpit windows, ashen gray instead of the stark white the initial images led him to expect. Unsure if it was a characteristic of the ship or his imagination playing tricks on him Jackson couldn't find a single seam or rivet holding the hull together. It was perfectly smooth as far as he could tell.

He had a moment of panic when he realized that whatever was controlling his ship was going to crash it into the hull. When an iris silently bloomed open, Jackson let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"I don' think there is a course in the academy on what to do when you're being abducted by a strange alien vessel." Jackson spoke out loud to himself, attempting to find something to ground him in this bizarre experience.

Moments later the scout slipped inside the portal to reveal a small bay bathed in cool blue light. Strange equipment, well he guessed they were equipment by their placement near an obvious landing pad, littered the deck. Many shared the same gray as the hull, just as eerily smooth and devoid of markings as well. With a small thud the scout ship landed in the bay. Just like a regular landing Jackson could feel the ship sink into it's landing struts, feeling foolish for expecting something alien to happen instead.

"What the fek. This whole situation has me on edge and my mind is running wild. Grounded, I need to get grounded." Taking a deep breath Jackson did something that helped him get through the academy and several tough campaigns against foreign nations. He sang. He sang a song with a haunting melody his mom sang to him when he was little. Whenever Jackson had a sensory overload episode his mom would sing this song to focus his mind and tune out everything else. It grounded him in ways nothing else could.

In a way, the song was fitting as it was about an old wet navy sailor in times of wind sails setting off for distant horizons. Not for fame, nor fortune. No, the sailor in the song was pulled by a force he couldn't explain, a yearning of his soul and his heart. Jackson attributed his service as a pilot to this song, but unlike the sailor at the end of the song, Jackson had yet to fill his yearning. Losing system after system to the Ascendant Jackson secretly had lost hope that he would ever fulfill his yearning.

Jackson finished the song, the final note fading into the cockpit. He may not have found his yearning like the sailor, but in a way Jackson did find the shore once again. Grounded, spirit bolstered, he reached for the cockpit release. Before he touched the controls the canopy opened on its own, gracefully swinging out of the way.

"You have a beautiful voice." Jacksons heart leapt into his throat.

"Wh-who's there?" frantically Jackson searched around the bay for the source of the voice, finding none.

"It was a beautiful song, too. Could you sing it for me again, sometime?" Thousands of hours in a flight helmet had given Jackson plenty of practice in hearing past the echo chamber it created, able to pinpoint sounds with resounding accuracy. But this voice didn't have a single source, it came from everywhere around him.

"Uh, maybe? It really depends on who you are, what is this ship, and what is going to happen to me?" Jackson's inner child did a small fist pump, score one for rational thought!

"Come, Casey Jackson, call sign Geode. Exit your craft. You have my assurances you are safe and will not come to any harm. Before you ask - if I wanted you dead I would not have brought you here." The voice paused, expecting a response.

Jackson obliged, "Uh, good point. Is the air safe? Can I take my helmet off? There are no pathogens that will, like turn me into a zombie, is there? I couldn't run an environmental check since you sorta took over my ship."

"For now, keep your suit sealed. The atmosphere here is not compatible with your biology."

"Oh, uh, thanks." Internally Jackson thought to himself that with all this fantastic technology he was sure the atmosphere was going to be safe. Glad he asked, he felt a little off not having to perform the post landing checklist to shutdown and secure the scout. Peering over the edge of the cockpit, there was no ladder to safely reach the deck.

"Umm, ship? I don't know what to address you as, but I need something to help me out, normally there is a deck crew that brings a ladder and, uh, I don't see one."

"That is because you do not need one,. Step into the air and a force will appear to support you."

Jackson couldn't help but let his fear spike. After a few moments he mastered it and swung a leg out like there was a ladder. To his surprise his foot met with what felt like a solid surface. Risking a glance Jackson nearly lost his balance, there was nothing there. Swallowing hard, Jackson rapidly swung the other foot out to find it even with the other. He turned and doing his best to hold down his anxiety, he walked forward. Much to his surprise, instead of a ladder or steps, the force presented a gently sloping ramp that deposited him on the deck.

"There is an automaton waiting for you four meters ahead. See it? Follow it." The automaton stood out against the uniform greyness of the bay, a small hexagonal sphere with a second, smaller sphere floating above it. The smaller sphere had a single point of light that roamed around the surface, giving Jackson the impression of an eye.

"In for a penny, in for a pound. Lead the way, little bot." Jackson used a voice common to people speaking gently to animals; kind, caring and in many ways parental. He didn't understand why he felt the need to talk to it like that, but it felt natural, right.

The eye of the bot stopped it's incessant roaming to focus on Jackson momentarily before spinning to the opposite side an rolling towards another blank bulkhead. Similar to the entrance to the landing bay, an iris bloomed open revealing a corridor in similar appearance to the bay. The bot rolled forward, paused to look back at Jackson, then rolled kept going. Jackson followed, once again letting fate take it's course.

"Anteater Eight, dropping from FTL into system M12768-P4 in 3, 2, 1. Realspace achieved. All systems nominal, no Ascendant ships on the scope. Proceeding with flyby of planet 2. Reentering FTL in T minus fourty five." Jackson spoke cooly into the mic, his transmission being broadcast through quantum entanglement back to the twelfth fleet.

A similarly cool voice replied, "Confirmed, on mission, FTL in T minus fourty five."

The Realspace quad engine of his system hopper roared to life with fusion fed tail of flame and hellfire, the internal dampers kicking in a moment later. Long enough of a delay for Casey "Geode" Jackson to feel seven g's before settling back down to earth normal one g.

Fourty minutes later Jackson began preparations for entering FTL again, shoving his disappointment down for finding another life incompatible planet.

"Anti-matter containment nominal. Reaction chamber magnetics nominal. Antimatter pump nominal." Jackson talked through the checklist, a habit he developed in training after forgetting a step in a simulator and getting chewed out by his instructors for hours afterwords. Had it been real, he very well could have caused his ship to explode, something he was keen on never repeating again.

Jackson gripped the FTL grip and was about to slide it forward when his computer beeped, "anomoly found." the emotionless voice intoned. Jackson hesitated, the last anomoly turned out to be an unusually metal rich asteroid. Useful, but not what they were looking for. A nagging feeling lodged itself in his head, though, and he took his hand off the grip.

"Ant Nest One, this is Anteater Eight. My computer has found an anomoly, canceling FTL to investigate." Jackson glanced at the scope before responding, "ETA to anomoly thirty four minutes. Will do a fly by then enter FTL to the next system T plus five."

"Anteater Eight, acknowledged. New FTL T minus thirty nine. Better not be another asteroid this time." Jackson let himself smile. Despite the desperate war for survival against the Ascendant, a little human brevity was still welcome.

Thirty minutes later

"Ant Nest One, canceling FTL in T minus nine. You're not going to believe this." Even though the anomoly was still thousands of kicks away, his sensor suite was able to get a clear picture. He sent the telemetry back to the Talon, his mother ship.

"Ant Eater Eight, you're right, we don't believe this. Is that what we think it is?"

"Unless my computer somehow lost its mind, we're staring at an artificial structure. A ship by the looks of it. Going to increase my flyby distance to five thousand klicks, but circle it a few times."

"Acknowledged, orders from on high, do not approach any closer. Ant Nest and the rest of the fleet will be en route in t minus fifty. ETA t minus one sixty."

"Acknowledged Ant Nest. Proceeding as ordered."

At seven thousand klicks his computers threat alarm went crazy, energy from the alien ship was being directed at his scout. Before he could react every screen in his cockpit flickered before displaying strange symbols. Without his input the scout ship turned and increased speed for the ship.

Training kicked in, "Shit. Uh.. OK, throttle back engine." nothing changed. "next, flip the main breaker to off, followed by the power distribution main switch." the ship and all it's systems remained on.

"Feking fly by wire bullshit." he exclaimed. "ugh don't make me pull the fuses. I feking told fleet after the last war with the Conglomerate that we needed physical power switches for when those bastards hacked out ship computers. The fly by wire was too easy to override." Jackson experimented with several other switches and systems, all having no effect. Letting our a small roar of frustration he pushed himself against the canopy in the fighter like cockpit to give him access to the fuse box behind the pilots chair.

It took some contorting and straining, but a minute later Jackson plopped back into his seat with a triumphant grin aimed at the handful of fuses now in his gloved hand. The ship did power down and the fusion chamber went into safe mode. Seconds later a purple beam struck the fighter, bathing the small cockpit in an eerie light. The ships systems all flickered back to life, momentarily followed by the fusion engines roaring back to life.

"What the fek?!" Jackson exclaimed. He was at a loss of what to do. He considered then rejected ejecting and resigned himself to whatever fate awaited him on the strange ship.

Thanks. There's a lot of editing that can be done to really improve this, but I think I hit the points I intended to.

And I appreciate the compliment on my writing. One day I hope to finally finish one of my many novels and get it published. I'm not all that great, and you can easily be a better writer than me. Just respond to prompts and listen to the respectful feedback and critiques redditors will offer you.

Additionally, read. Read a lot. Read different authors. Read different styles. Read different genres (I fail at this part, I tend to stick to military and hard Sci fi). The more writing styles you're exposed to, the better a writer you can be. Pay attention to how the authors construct sentences, use Grammer and verbiage. Try to look at the story from a constructive viewpoint - how has the author weaved multiple threads together. Or how they even failed at it. How have they organized their story? How have they made the characters relatable? Believe me, keeping an eye on things like this changes your whole reading experience, usually for the better.

P. S. And yea, what an eventful day for poor BART. Hopefully things calm down for him soon :-P

Finally it was time for the mane. Harvinger turned to place the brush in its proper place and switch to the mane brush. When he turned back he dropped the brush in a rare act of surprise.

Senya was gone. In her place stood... Princess Illianna? Princess of Avren, rightful heir to the throne, and missing for five years. Tears streamed down her face, yet she maintained a dignified stance while gripping a shawl tightly around her dress.

"P-P-princess?" was all Harvinger could manage, his mind frozen in confused shock.

"My dear knight, my curse is lifted, thanks to you." Despite her tears, her golden voice was strong. "I never knew what would break it, but I suspect that in this moment, you realized in your heart that you loved Senya, loved me."

The knight dropped to his knees, eyes moist and glistening in the torch light. He was fighting to hold back tears, but he knew it was a fight he would shortly lose. "I, yes, I realized that my affection for Senya...you? Was more than just a rider and his steed." The dam cracked, the first tear traced a path through the days grime down his cheek.

"Si-," she paused for a heartbeat, "Harvi-" she shook her head. "Tequinn, it was not just your love that broke the curse. Though trapped in the form of a mare, I kept my mind."

Harvingers eyes widened in shock. "You.. You remember?"

Illianna stepped up to the knight and cupped his cheek in her hand. He was shocked at the softness of her touch, the touch that broke the dam. Tears could no longer be held back and he wept openly, leaning into his princesses touch.

"Yes, I remember everything. I recognized you when you found me in that field. I knew you from before, firm, fair, honorable. I knew I'd be safest with you, and that I would get to see the kingdom in ways I would never otherwise." She smiled and Harvingers soul bloomed in ways he never imagined possible. That wasn't a smile of a princess to a knight, it was a smile only reserved for the person she loved.

"I saw you fight nobly. I bore you into battle so you could lead our forces to victory. I watched as you dedicated yourself to your duty, forgoing the pleasures women the kingdom over would have willingly offer. I suspected the reason why, but now the truth is apparent."

"I-I never intended anything above my station, my Princess. I assure you." the pleading look he gave her nearly broke her heart.

"Tequinn, of that I have no doubt." she crouched so she could be at his level, knowing he lacked the strength to rise in this moment. "Love was never something you sought. Only duty to your king, to your men. But you found it in the most unlikely thing, a simple mare. And for you, that was enough."

It was too much. A knight of the Arven Kingdom was a master of their emotions, stoicism prized over any display of emotion. It's why so few achieved such a lofty rank, it took a will stronger than iron to control their emotions. And here was Knight Tequinn Harvinger on his knees, the iron prison he kept his emotions locked up in, pried open by the very princess he swore to find and to protect.

Tequinn dropped his head and fell back into his legs. Love, shame, duty, hope, they all rushed forth, finally free from their prison. A wail escaped from deep within his lonely soul, reaching out to the radient soul before it, yearning to bask in her warmth.

Illianna smiled and welcomed his soul. Lonely though it was, it had its own warmth. The warmth of a protector, the fierceness of a Warrior, the longing of a man who denied him self the greatest treasure in all the lands.

"I love you, Tequinn Harvinger." Her words echoed in his soul, filling a void Tequinn never knew was there, that he longed for.

"A-and I love you, my princess." he whispered back, the words surprising even himself.

"Then rise, my love, and let's be by each others side for the rest of eternity."

They clasped hands and helped one another rise, ending with him standing a full head taller than her. They stared into each other's eyes, into one anothers souls, connecting on a level only reserved for those who truly loved one another.

Before they knew it, they embraced each other tightly, sharing a kiss that shook the world. At the entrance to the stable Bart gasped in shock, dropping his food laden tray that rattled loudly on the cobblestone floor. Tequinn and Illianna ignored him, continuing their embrace.

Bart turned and ran, they could hear him crying into the late afternoon air, "The princess! The princess has returned!"

The gates to the castle of the Avren Kingdom opened in a welcome cacophony of gears and chains working to move the massive constructs. Sir Tequinn Harvinger swayed with fatigue atop his chestnut colored steed Senya, whose hooves clopped and echoed off the stone walls.

Behind them, soldiers and their retinue followed, equally weary from their journey to the far south, fighting in the century long war that they have no hope of seeing the end of. Just like battles past, the clashes they participated in were brutal and bloody. This group lost a quarter of the numbers they left with. Their only solace was that the enemy suffered equally.

A squire, fresh from the county side, Harvinger could tell, came trotting up to him, eager to take the steeds reigns and lead them to the royal stables. "What is your name, young squire?" Harvingers voice rolled like gravel from beneath his heavy helmet.

Surprised at being addressed by the storied knight, the squire stumbled, "Uh....ummm..."

"It's OK, young one. You may speak." Harvinger said reassuringly. Well, as reassuringly as he could manage, being well aware that his voice can be described as anything but warm and gentle.

The squire blinked a couple of times before mastering his emotions and finally providing an intelligent response, "My name is Bartleby, but my friends call me Bart."

"Then, my young squire, may I address you as Bart?"

The squires mastery of his emotions was fleeting as his face froze in shock. Sensing that the squire was at his limits of emotional control, Harvinger continued on. "Judging by your silence, you think this is an expectation of friendship. It can be, young squire, if you become my squire. I'm afraid my last one met an unfortunate end on our journey and I find I am in need of one. Come, follow me and learn."

Despite his heavy armor and apparent fatigue, Harvinger dismounted Senya with grace born of years around horses. "You will find that I am not like the other knights. I only need a squire as a second set of hands, running the errends I cannot do myself. I do not let others take my steed," he emphasised this with an affectionate pat on Senyas neck, "nor do I expect others to clean my gear for me. I take care of these myself. Do you follow?"

"Y-yes, sir Knight."

"Good. Your responsibility is to make sure the stable is well kept and ready for Senya or myself. Provisioned and clean. I will tend to Senya myself, none other shall do so without my direct approval. I will never send written missives that counter that, nor shall I send instructions to the contrary via messenger. Failure of this direction will result in immediate dismissal. Do you understand this, Bartleby? "

"I-I do, sir knight."

They had arrived at Harvingers personal stable. Harvinger doffed his gauntlets and helmet placing them on a table then returned to Senya, reached into a saddle pack and fisheds out a parchment, quill and ink. After a few moments of writing, he pulled out wax and his stamp, carefully rolling the parchment and affixing his seal to it.

"Take this to Captain Parson. This is informing him that you are now my squire. Return here once he reads this and dismisses you. Now go." He turned without waiting for Bart to acknowledge his directions and started to remove the various bits of riding gear affixed to Senya. Each peice that came off was placed in its proper location. Finally Senya was free of her burdens.

Harvinger next scooped up the deshedding brush and worked over Senya from shoulder to haunch, removing fur that built up since they broke camp that morning. Next he grabbed a bucket, pleased to see it freshly filled and proceeded to wash Senya.

As he washed his loyal steed, he spoke to her, as of she could understand him. "Senya, what a steed you have been for me. When I first laid eyes on you, I knew we were destined to ride together. Your chestnut fur glistening in the dusk, the pride you carried yourself with. I cannot explain, but it's almost as if you enchanted me. Despite being a wild mare, I did not have to break you, you joined me, almost willingly."

Harvinger tossed the rag wetly into the bucket where it splashed noisily. Next he picked up a towel gently patted Senya dry. "The men were all amazed that I tamed such a beast. But you and I both know, there was no taming necessary." Senya huffed as if in agreement. Satisfied that she was dry, Harvinger next grabbed the brush and lovingly brushed the soft fur of his companion.

By this time Bart had returned and stood quietly nearby, waiting for his next instructions. Harvinger knew he was there, but ignored him for now. "Imagine my surprise at how nimbly you navigated our first battefiled together. Somehow you emerged without a scratch." The brushing continued, "Then the time you helped find survivors of the Wellington disaster, when a levy broke and flooded the nearby village."

Harvinger moved to the other side. "I knew you were special, but little did I know how special you were. Even my old squire Percy learned it the hard way, the first time he tried to tend to you. You wouldn't let anyone touch you. Only me. You rarely even let another take your reigns to be led around, much less rode about. That horse thief was in for a surprise when you intentionally ran him into a tree branch. It's too bad you stomped him so good, I would have loved to get my hands on him myself." Harvinger chuckled at the memory.

"Bart, fetch me some food and drink. I am nearly finished here but I still need to doff my armor and tend to it."

A small cloud of dust followed the squires "Yes, sir Knight" as he took off.

I was going to write my own take on the prompt, but to follow something so beautiful, I feel would detract from it. Well done, dear writer. Well done.

I take a sip of my coffee, absorbing the deep aroma of the beverage and letting out an involuntary sigh. Decades, I scoff internally. Decades have passed as I swam in shadow. Time meant nothing to me, just endless darkness. I think, at least, last I remember was my best friend, the person I fought beside, was the best man at my wedding and the godfather to both my son and daughter. He stood there, his proclamation ringing in my ears, "this is the only way." as tears flowed freely from his eyes. The monster behind him, thrashing in its prison as it, too, sank into the stone. Then darkness.

I sip my coffee, its warmth banishing the last dregs of shade from my soul. An old man, hair grey as stone, face weathered and wrinkled from a long life of worry, joy, and endless other emotions. But those eyes, those damned hazel eyes betray the old mans identity. It's Ward, the man that became the father to my now grown children.

I drop the hood from my cloak and lock eyes with him. He gasps, "By the fates, it IS you." A hand covers his mouth, shock reverberating through his being. "You...you...you weren't supposed to wake for another five years...." his voice trails off before standing up and pacing madly. "No, no, no, it's too soon." His hands are holding the sides of his head. "Was I wrong? Were my calculations off? No...that couldn't have been it. Something else changed....we're not ready...we're not....."

I interrupt, "Ward....why?" my throat chokes with emotion, I'm having a hard time processing what the hell is going on. To me it was yesterday that I sank into shadow, he didn't have the grey hair he has now.

He stops his pacing and turns and stares at me, a horrified look mixed with pity etched across his wrinkled face. "Charles, I...." before I knew it he was on his knees grasping my hand and balling openly. ".....sorry. So sorry...I didn't...I thought I couldn't......but I had to...." he managed between sobs. If I was confused before, I don't know what I am now. Lost. Completely and utterly lost.

"Start...in the cave?" I struggle with speaking for some reason. Ward takes a deep breath and takes his seat across from me, pouring a cup of coffee for himself with unsteady hands. I give him all the time he needs, to get his thoughts in order. We finish the pot without another word, I get up and start boiling a fresh pot of water on the fire in the hearth.

"There's something coming. Something of immense power and evil." He says to my back. I don't move, "As strong as you were....it wasn't going to be enough by the time it arrived. Even after a lifetime of training, you wouldn't have been strong enough." I idly stoke the fire, waiting for him to continue.

"There...was a, a, a prophesy that came out of nowhere. Told us about the coming darkness, and how to prepare for it." I reached over and grabbed a fresh log and dropped it on the fire, sparks jumping to life all around me. I heard Ward hiccup in fear. "Th-th-thing is, Charles, we debated. The entire party, and some of the most knowledgeable people we met during our travels. And we all agreed.....that this was the only path."

I grunted, urging him to continue as I still hunched over the hearth, waiting for the water to boil. "I didn't want to, I didn't think I could go through with it, but the only other choice was to live long enough to see our world fall. I-I couldn't let that happen."

"I thought I was going to die. I swam in shadows, Ward. For eternity. This is the first time I have felt warmth in a lifetime." I extend my hands towards the hearth, truly enjoying the heat.

"I-I-I.....know." I could sense he hung his head, and he began weeping again. After a time he regained control of himself, "I came back to check on you every five years. To let you know that your wife and kids are fine. I didn't do anything untoward, I protected and supported them, you know? You'd be proud of how Valorie and William have grown into fine adults. You...you're a grandfather, you know?" Tears stung my eyes, relief flooding my being.

"But there's more, Ward."

"Aye....the monster we hunted down that day? It-it wasn't for the reasons you were told. We trapped it.." my patience ran out. "We hunted that beast down and trapped it in that circle so you could merge its power with mine. To turn me into THIS!" I stood to my now considerable height, throwing back my cloak to reveal the body of a beast, covered in fur darker than the night. Feet tipped with talons meant to shred victims into tatters. My arms, easily thrice the size they were as a humans, ending in paws with huge claws. A snout, a muzzle like a canine's thrust from my face, rows of razor sharp teeth hidden behind canine lips. My eyes were no longer human, allowing me to see fewer colors, but more details and better in lower light.

My Wen, the power that drives the magic in the world, is different. Tainted, but larger, deeper. I haven't tried to tap that well, yet, I've been afraid to.

Ward scrambled from his chair, falling over and backpedaling into the corner. "I'm sorry!" he yelled as I pulled my cloak around me once more and stalked out the door. "Betrayal like yours requires more than an apology. It requires blood, and I will drench these lands in it."

Realization dawned on Ward as Charles faded from view. They got the prophesy wrong, they created the evil that was coming, not preventing it. He wept in despair, realizing that the end of the world was happening because of him.