Jenson laid his aching body onto a Servor mattress. Immediately, he felt his eyes tugging closed. He desperately needed sleep. Still, rest was elusive as his racing thoughts kept him awake.

Despite Jensons best efforts, Mal was simply not the same afterward. He blamed himself for lying, leading to the deaths of the Masters. His innocence and exuberance vanished; he no longer smiled or laughed but was prone to sullenness and fits of brooding. The other Servors could sense some damage deep inside him and avoided him where they could. Mal became obsessed with the prophecy, believing that bringing his people to Earth was the only way to redeem his actions. As the Servors took control of the Jitz vessel, Mal sat in the captains chair, directing their actions. Despite his obvious emotional trauma, Jenson thought he had come a long way in a short time. The Servors had a lot of potential.

Kepler was no help, dismissing Mals and the other Servors 'squeamishness' with characteristic contempt while explaining that they were now all at war with the Jitz. She demanded that they be destroyed before traveling to Earth, an idea that, much to her delight, spread among the Servors on the ship very quickly. Jenson was furious with Kepler. Her reckless and unilateral actions, as well as utter contempt for the Servors demanded to be confronted.

However, discussions with the lieutenant proved fruitless. She had decided she was free to do whatever she wanted, and was using the prophecy as a blunt instrument to accomplish her goals. In the end, she offered her sidearm to Jenson and challenged him to shoot her for desertion. Exhausted, he had walked out. After that, there wasn't much else to say.

Jenson didn't like the new plan. Keplers new plan. It was as vicious and reckless as the old one. The Servors on board the ships and stations that protected Jitania were supposed to rebel and shut them all down. Then they were going to waltz over to the main planet and explode radiation bombs in the atmosphere to wipe out the entire population. Revenge from beyond the grave. Over in minutes. The GDF high command would agree with Kepler. This was a unique opportunity to wipe out the Jitz, sworn enemies of Earth. Any actions or casualties would be deemed necessary.

Jenson finally slipped into a deep slumber. In his dreams, he stalked through plain metal corridors, trying to find General Baboas office. All the offices had the same simple, golden nameplate on them, but they were the wrong names; each one seemed to have a simple, Servor name on it. When he finally found the Generals Office, the General wouldn't open the door. He whispered through the intercom, his voice thready and strange. We're pulling back our assets, Jenson. Defeat is inevitable. It was reliable tech - bottled in 1926. I love my daughter, Jenson. Jenson pushed the button to open the door and it flew open instantaneously, like the lift door on the Jitz ship. On the other side lay butchered Jitz, their blood pooling on the ground.

Jenson tossed in his sleep, his uniform growing damp with sweat.

~

Jenson tugged at his uniform and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn't had a shower since he awoke from cryo-stasis, which was too many hours ago. At least he had been able to get a few hours of sleep while they were en route to Jitania, but he didn't feel much better. Disturbed by dreams he could not remember, he awoke feeling haunted, wishing for nothing more than a hot shower.

Kepler looked grim and determined, like an unstoppable force. She stood straight and tall, her hand on her sidearm. Despite her projection of strength, Jenson knew she was exhausted. She was pale and had deep circles under her eyes. From what he understood she had refused the opportunity to sleep while they were en route.

They flanked Mal, who occupied the former captains seat.

Mal studied the terminal at his side, deciphering a string of lights and shapes that gave him information from the entire ship. Jenson had been trying to learn how to use the ships system, but he simply couldn't approach Mals level of skill. The Servor was on his home turf, and he was able to direct the ship with ease.

"We have arrived at Jitania." Mal said, breaking the silence.

"What about the other ships? The platforms?" Jenson asked urgently, putting his hand on Mals shoulder.

Mal was silent for a moment, flipping through several boxes of information rapidly. Then he nodded and looked up.

"The Servors turned them off, as you commanded Great One. They honour the prophecy, as I said they would."

Kepler exhaled sharply, as though she had been holding her breath for a long time.

"We are receiving a transmission from the planet..." Mal said, frowning.

"We don't need to hear some fecking Jitz transmission! Mal, turn off communications." Kepler interjected, a cruel streak running through her voice, "They'll be able to detect that, won't they?

Mal nodded and tapped several controls on the terminal. Jenson tried to follow what he was doing. He could see information readouts pertaining to the Jitz homeworld. Wind speed. Background radiation. Gravity distortions. Life readings. He bent over slightly and poked the last control.

"Good." Kepler continued, "That's how much they talked to us when they bombed Vancouver."

The life readings showed a vast density of living things on Jitania. They had oceans, mountains, forests, and animals, just like Earth. He tapped the last control, bringing up animal life forms on the planet.

"Mal, prime those bombs. They'll be able to detect that too, correct?" Kepler was exultant, like an almighty being passing a terrible judgment.

The terminal displayed life signs for billions of Jitz, a multitude of animals and... Servors. Jensons eyes grew wide. There were readouts for millions of Servors on the planet.

"Yes," Mal said. "Jenson, I need to use the controls. Would you mind?"

"Good." Kepler said with finality. "They're feeling fear right now, all of them. Let them chew on that for a minute."

Jenson looked up from the terminal, but kept his hand on the control. He was suddenly filled with a terrible certainty that what they were doing was a mistake. Their attack would kill millions of Servors, and condemn the survivors to the wilderness of space. Bombing Jitania and slaughtering all the Jitz was a solution for another time, his and Keplers time. It was no longer so simple. He looked at Kepler and finally saw the one thing in her that he had never wanted to see. The hatred in her heart that had slowly consumed her very being. She was no longer Janice Kepler, but a spirit of revenge. Jenson knew what he would have to do.

"Kepler... we can't do this. We're not doing this." He said quietly.

Kepler slowly turned towards him, a look of shock and confusion on her face. Mals eyes widened in surprise.

"We'd be killing millions of our own people. Committing xenocide in an act of simple retribution for something that happened hundreds of years ago. And we've seen how the Jitz didn't wipe us out when they had the chance, the Servors are proof of that. We don't have to do this."

"They're not my people!" Kepler shouted, oblivious to Mal and the surrounding Servors. "The Servors arent an example of mercy, they've been made into weaklings, nothing more than creatures born to serve the Jitz scum! It's an insult and a humiliation, can't you see that? Our people are all dead! I'm not going to let you get in the way now, Calvin!"

Kepler pulled out her sidearm, faster than Jenson thought possible. Even though he had his weapon ready, she almost got the drop on him. Jenson fired before she could take her aim, blowing out Keplers chest in a dramatically fatal shot. He heard a pop as Keplers weapon discharged, then felt a sickening impact.

He tasted smoke. There was shouting. I was ready, he thought. I got her.

~

Mal cradled Jensons head in his lap, letting fall tears that wet the other mans forehead. Though clearly in agony, Jenson was whispering something. Mal leaned forward and strained to hear. It was a series of numbers. He furrowed his brow, listening as Jenson repeated the numbers again and again while his voice slowly vanished like mist on the water. When he stopped, Mal did not cry. Jenson had done it again. He had given Mal a great weight of responsibility and changed his future forever.

The numbers were coordinates. Jenson had given Mal the map to find Earth.

(Epilogue to follow)

Thank you maggotheart.

The ending gave me the shivers, sad and happy.
You really are very good:)
Putting on my kindle to read again, with epilogue.

Epilogue

Mal sat slouched over in the captains chair, Servors working all around him. The architecture on the bridge was made for the Masters, and the chair was simply uncomfortable. Frowning, he checked the terminal at his side. They would arrive at their destination any moment. Earth. Home. The place denied them by the Masters. The paradise promised in the prophecy.

He stood up and activated a larger, virtual display terminal in front of him. The entire crew of the ship would be able to see when the planet came into view. He instructed the Servors on the other ships to do the same. It was the least he could do to honour their devotion to the prophecy. He straightened his back, and drew a small trinket from his pocket.

It was Jensons GDF badge. The representation of Earth was only partially obscured by the large golden letters. Mal would know Earth when he saw it. He smiled slightly, for the first time since this whole mess had started, and clipped the badge onto his simple grey Servor uniform. It wouldnt be long now.

The terminal, which had previously shown only a barren star-scape, hummed and changed. They were in a system with a yellow star. There were many objects, gas giants and some rocky inner planets. The view screen centered in on the third planet from the star, a blue world covered in water and clouds whose landforms matched Jensons GDF badge.

The computer scanned the planet, zooming in further. There were cities everywhere, and other signs of civilization, but the surface had clearly been strafed with weapons fire. There was no life - the cities were dead ruins. The computer reported lethal radiation levels.

Mal stared at the screen, one of thousands of pairs of Servor eyes, gazing down at the destruction. The Masters had to have done this, Mal thought, it's no wonder they didn't want us to come here. He hadn't realized it, but his hand had reached up and was now clutching Jensons GDF badge. He understood now.

He knew why Jenson and Kepler had fought the Masters. He had come to know War, and anger, and grief. His life was free of the Masters, the Jitz who had stolen the past from the Servors. Whatever was to come now, it would be a future forged by their own hands.

THE END

Thanks again for reading! Glad you liked it :)

Thanks go to you maggotheart for taking the time to write, enjoy both your writing and the story:)

I had a feeling Earth might be a total wasteland when they arrived...not quite, but close :-). Thanks also from me, for taking the time to share your story telling talents with us. Most enjoyable

You're welcome, it was my pleasure. This story kept wanting to be longer, it was challenging to keep it to a shorter length - I tend to get carried away with lots of ideas and bite off more than I can chew with many of my projects, then I wind up in a quagmire and don't finish them. This would be why things like outlines are important :P

Magnificent ending, maggotheart! Here's to your writing! :)

The birds were flying high above shaking their little tails like they just can't care but poor Kive was stuck and shacked to the ground with the heaviest iron the blacksmiths could give. Poor Kive only wanted a sword and he wanted it so badly that he stole. Kive was thinking to himself how he could've got away if it wasn't for that blood hound that chased him down and restrained him.

About an hour later as he was lowering his head to rest Kive heard footsteps of metal It was guards, probably came to rough him up.

'So what are you here for, peasant!' Spoke one of guards.

Kive gave his reason as he feared he would be roughed up like a rag if he didn't show respect.

'Theft and attempted murder' Kive said sadly and with grief, you always have to make it sound like you care.

'We know about the theft part but who was it you tried to kill exactly, peasant' Spoke the second guard.

Damn why did always have to say it with so much distaste!

'Can't you pigs just go away and just leave me in my misery' Kive now regretted saying that.

'Oh we can make a lot more miserable' The guards smiled at other.

Half an hour later and Kive REALLY regrets making his last comment to those two guards but one day just one day when that necromancer, Dorane comes back then those cards will regret and everyone else yes, including that bastard child that took Kive's wife away from him, especially him.

And where have you both gone, really need some more stories?

There was a time before, I am certain of it. If I close my eyes and strain against the darkness and ash of my own thoughts, I can sense it. Jumbled images, slivers of emotions that cut at me like glass. Pain, passion and longing. Excitement, laughter, and joy. I can't remember any of their faces, but I know they were there. People I knew. A woman perhaps? People that mattered to me.

How much time had passed? Were they still alive? Did they think about me, wonder about me? Were there people alive who could tell me about myself? Or was I alone, with pain my only companion, cloaked in the hollow grief of loss I couldn't even remember? If I thought about it too much, a burning pain would arise within my brain, like fiery spikes boring their way outward through my skull. Physical pain to match what I felt within my own charred spirit. Perhaps I wasn't meant to know. Perhaps I was being punished for terrible crimes, denied my own past as part of the retribution.

A long, shuddering sigh escaped my tattered lips. I knew that these episodes of self pity were pointless, a weakness that disgusted me when I reflected on them in my more lucid moments. But they were all I had, my only indulgence in an existence that had become monstrous and evil by anyone's measure. I had been swallowed by Hell, digested and excreted as a being wholly different, stripped of all humanity, left alone in the dark to fester. I just wished there was more, something I could hold on to. I could not dare to hope. I would settle for answers; anything to explain what had happened to me, or why.

Ah, thank you maggotheart, you're amazing as always:)

It was a moonless night. The darkness painted the trees and rocks of the forest in shades of black, dusted with ink and shadow. The beauty of it was only visible to the creatures of the night. Nocturnal predators. Like me. I had come to live in the darkness of the night, cloaked in its comforting obscurity. It hid my body, the patchwork of scars and mottled flesh I now inhabited. Safe from the eyes of others.

In the distance, there was a square of light. My target lay behind it. He doubtless considered himself safe, as though he could hide from me behind a shield of firelight. His fear was distant, insubstantial on the night wind. I wrinkled my nose, raising it into a slight breeze that disturbed the trees around me. The fear was there. I would coax it forth. Nurture it like a dying ember. He would be consumed in its flame.

I moved forward easily, closing the distance effortlessly in a few steps. I could move faster in the night; it was one of the gifts that the bag bestowed upon me. The window glowed impossibly bright. I had to force myself to peer inside.

He was sitting on a couch in front of a fireplace, a glass in his hand, a dog at his feet. The dog looked up instantly, caught my eye. It opened its mouth to bark, thought better of it. A low whine escaped its throat instead. I could feel it's terror through the glass of the window pane, smell the fear like some delicious thing being cooked. The dog stood up, trembling. I could feel a grin tugging at my lips.

My target set his glass down and placed his hand on the dogs golden head.

"Something the matter boy? You gotta go pee?" his voice sounded easy, unconcerned. He stood up, walked to the door of the cabin. I could hear the tumblers of the lock scraping open in slow motion.

As the door slid open, I clutched the bag tightly in my hand. This wouldn't take long.

turning page.....