Hidden Temple.

Arakil stepped carefully through the underground gloom, fellow Prothen were nearby, searching the rocks and stalagmites for clues.  Clues left by the gods.  Arakil went around a particularly large and smooth stalagmite; and found a temple.  It was like a cave; a large portion of some great temple chamber within this bigger cavern.  Arakil crept inside, his green, pupilless eyes quickly adjusting to the thick blackness that shrouded the inside of the broken temple.  Sweeping dust from the wall with his robotic hand, he saw carvings and illustrations lying hidden under the layer of dust.  They were carved in a style he had seen before, five hundred years ago on Arung Khai.  The side-view, geometric style of the Architects.  Every line, every curve, every dot and feature was perfectly carved, perfectly measured.  Arakil excitedly swept more dust from the ancient wall and saw an interesting image; an illustration of the Architects themselves, hundreds of extremely detailed troops.  They wore advanced battle armor, with smooth, curved helmets with a single eye in the center, their weapons were long, broad rifles that, judging from the illustration, fired very potent energy rays.  A horde of monstrous horrors that Arakil realized were swarmlings, were rushing toward the Architect battalion.  He felt a creeping sensation along his metal spine.  Dashing past many other carvings of the Architects engineering worlds and spaceships, up to the back of the ancient temple; the altar.  The crystalline shrine laid on it's side, cracked, shards of crystal were strewn on the floor.  Above the altar was an image of an Architect wearing a flowing robe and crown-like helmet.  His hands were extended, gesturing to adjacent scenes; scenes of the Architects arriving in the Dagen Region, building a homeworld for themselves, finding primitive species, the Prothen and Notross, going to a barren, wasteland, world and finding... life.  They took this bold and resilient life-form and genetically enhanced it, they multiplied it, made it more adaptable than other species.  The things morphed and grew, in size and intelligence, the numberless creatures were then put under the control of an Architect-made being: the Overmind.  The swarms of these creatures grew evermore; until, one day, they turned and attacked their creators.  Overrunning most of the Architects' worlds instantly, there was a great battle at the Architect homeworld.  The Architects, after the battle, were no more.
Arakil, wide eyed, stumbled backwards.  The Architects had made the Swarm!      

I remember when...

Moonlight shone down on me from above the towering shadows of the trees.
I remember the hoots of owls, the pitter-patter of mice across the fallen leaves.
I remember the eyes of foxes and rabbits, looking out at me from under scraggily bushes, safe in their burrow homes.
I remember eagles and crows, hawks and ravens, sitting proud in their high twig thrones, watching me as I walked through the twilit forest.

The Origins of the Swarm.

Aeons ago; the Prothen, Firstborn of Adru, spread across the Dagen Region and taught the tribal Notross the arts of war.  For a great blight was burning a path of destruction across the stars.  The blight was the Swarm.
The Swarm spread from Zarsus and burned a path of destruction to Dagen.  The Swarm encountered the Prothen and Notross, who fought off the insectoid monsters.  The Overmind, the supreme will of the Swarm, inflicted the Prothen with a terrible virus, that ate flesh and bone away to nothing.  Kalssenon, Hierarch Executor of the Prothen, devised a way, using psionics and technology, to put cybernetic implants in the remaining Prothen and Prothen eggs.  The sparse amount of Prothen withdrew to their ancestral homeworld of Arung Uni.  The Notross, after the devastating war with the Swarm, reverted back to their tribal ways, losing all technology and communication with the Prothen.  After centuries of primitive tribalism, the Prothen returned the knowledge of warp drives and ordered law to the Notross.  The wisest Prothen seers foretold that a fourth species would come from a far sector of the Dagan Region, and that their coming would herald the second coming and destruction of the Swarm.  Notross refused to accept that an outsider species could save the Prothen and Notross.  The two species fell out of communion with each other.  After the centuries, the Swarm turned to myth among the Notross, an alien invasion long ago defeated, no need to dwell on the past.  The Prothen on Arung Uni saw the signs: the return of Zarsus Prime in the night sky and the shadowing over of all adjacent stars.  The Swarm was rising yet again.

The Prometheus; Part 2.

Jason tentatively stepped forward, taser pointed forward.  The thing in the shadows stopped moving; waiting.  There was a moment of silence, no one moved.  Beads of sweat ran down Jason's forehead and into his eyes.  He reached up to wipe his eyes; but he heard a slight shift of feet in the shadows.  His whole body tensed and he instinctively pulled the trigger of his weapon.  A foot-long bolt of electricity erupted from the barrel of his taser; flying and hitting the thing lurking in the shadows.  The figure flew into the back wall with a loud clang of metal.  Jason turned on his wristlight and shone its blue beam of light on the figure.
It was a man, like Jason.  He was thin but wiry, shaggy black hair hung over his deep-set green eyes, he was dressed similar to Jason, but the stranger had bits of what looked liked armor, though it was bent and scratched.  The most dangerous thing about this man was the four-foot long curved sword in his hand.  The man lay on the ground, twitching from the taser bolt; after a minute he stopped moving.  Jason stepped toward the prone, maybe even dead, man.  He, Jason, threw himself to the ground; the curved sword sliced the air harmlessly where he had been just a second before.  The man was on his feet, sword ready, a feral hatred in his scowling eyes.  Jason, leaping up, took a step backward his taser pointed at the wild man's chest.  Jason spied a name emblazoned on this wild stranger's jumpsuit.
"Romulus, stand down!  I repeat; stand down!  It's ok, I won't shoot you again; see?"  Jason slowly lowered his taser.
Romulus stood still at first; staring at Jason.  Very slowly, his sword pointed toward the floor.  Jason breathed a sigh of relief.  That's when something pounced from behind; and everything went black.              

Lance DeMoi and the Revenge of Noctheim.

Lance ran, like he had never ran before, blood spilling onto the rocks from his many wounds as he flew down the mountain.  A horde of vampires came pouring out of the caves up the mountain; all of them contorted with their hunger for blood.  Harley, one leg broken and covered in blood, limped as best he could after Lance, the horde quickly drawing closer to him.  Lance turned and ran back up the rocky slope to Harley.
"Come on!"  Lance yelled, helping to support Harley as they both stumbled down the mountain.  Suddenly, in a black flash, a very tall, slim, chalk white skinned vampire wearing black armor and an onyx crown appeared in front of them.  He drew a dark iron sword from it's sheath on his black, bejewled belt.  Turning to his bear form, Harley roared and charged forward, teeth bared.  Dracula stood his ground, then, when Harley was close enough, Dracula skewered the werebear and nonchalantly tossed him aside.  Lance choked and fell to his knees; Harley was dead and Lance had only himself to blame.  Dracula and his army of vampires surrounded the lone Lance DeMoi.  Dracula pointed his black sword at Lance's dirty and blood-smeared throat, and chuckled.
"Well look who we have hear: the mighty Lance DeMoi on his knees and at my mercy!"
Dracula smashed Lance in the head with the pommel of his sword.  Blood ran down Lance's neck as he fell on the rocks and dirt; he coughed up blood into the dust.  Something fell of his belt and tinkled against the stones; of course how could he have forgotten!  Snatching the bottle of pure daylight, Lance jumped to his feet, Dracula snarled and lunged with his sword.  Lance threw himself to the side, whipped out his revolver, threw the crystal vial on the ground and shot it.  Pure, raw, daylight exploded over the mountainside.  The nearest vampires were incinerated on the spot, others farther back burst into flame, Dracula shrieked and fell backwards, his sword clattered against the stones.  Lance jammed his eyes shut and ran to the cliff's edge, where he peeked and saw a lake far below, a deep one by the looks of it; and he dove of the mountain into the cold mountain pool below.

The Prometheus

He awoke with a start.  He didn't know where he was, or who he was.  He was in a confined, body chamber with a little window at head level looking out into pitch blackness.  He tore a tube from his mouth; water spilled onto the floor of his pod and an emergency light went on.  There was a pneumatic hiss and the chamber door opened, letting in cool air.  He unstrapped himself and stumbled into the darkness, he looked around, his arm accidentally smacked a switch.  Electric lights, dim at first, came to life, lighting the previously dark passageway.  Stumbling down the dark metal passage, he noticed drawers along the wall.  He wrenched one labeled "Argon, Jason" open and dumped out it's contents onto the metal grating.  There was a black jumpsuit, an under shirt, boots, a handlight, a med-kit, and a taser-like weapon.  Jason put on the  underclothes and jumpsuit over his briefs, strapped the boots on, and put the other items on his belt.  Putting on the the handlight, he walked down the dim, menacing metal passageways; going no where in particular.  Jason wondered where he was; vague memories of a massive vessel swirled in his head, but what kind of vessel?  He was pondering this as he came into an observation deck.  He turned toward the wall-to-ceiling window.
His jaw dropped.
Splayed out before him was a gas nebula, all swirls and stars, blanketing visible space with it's speckled majesty.  The bay window was cool against Jason's skin as he pressed against it; eyes taking in the beautiful scene before him.  He noticed a star, a giant yellow thing, drawing noticibly closer.  Planets swirled around the sun, five or six of them.  He stepped back, memories shifting through his head; there was a soft tink of metal behind him.  Jason turned, hand on taser.  Something was moving in the back shadows of the deck.

The Great Galactic War.

The Republic enjoyed a thousand years of peace after the The Great Hyperlane Invasion by the sinn.  The old sinn emperor, Angard Shadow, died, leaving the throne to Kaga Diin.  Diin was then challenged by the irascible, illegitimate, son of Shadow, Draco Ravorn.  Draco fought and killed Kaga Diin in a duel right outside the latter's own palace, Draco stole the crown and initiated a new regime.  For too long had the Republic been at peace, and for too long had the sinn, the sworn enemies of the Republic, been reclusive and peaceful.  Draco built a massive fleet, bigger than the one used by Marak Shadow in the Great Hyperlane invasion.  Unlike the sinn emperors before him, who attacked lesser Republic worlds to slowly eat away at Republic power, Draco lead his fleet straight from Korduun in a spear-like lightening blitz to Eridu, the grand capital of the Republic.  The attack was both well timed and unexpected; the Republic had just gone through the Fourth Tuet Civil War; and no one had ever dared attack the capital of the Republic before.  Just as the troop transports had landed from the Tuet Cluster, the black, gothic ships of Draco appeared in Eridu's sky.  The great warships bombarded the city with photon missiles and laser cannons.  Draco's flagship, The Red Leviathan, smashed the spire of the Senate Palace onto the buildings below.  Sidon Troopers, Draco's elite soldiers, abducted several groups of senators and held them on their warships to ensure not being shot down.  The sinn blasted all planetary laser cannons, than the Central Eridu Barracks, killing all the clones within and destroying the squadron of ships there.  For three weeks the sinn bombarded the capital of the Republic, Sidon Troopers stormed the Senate and officially declared the end of the Galactic Republic.  The Supreme Consuls, Runan and Canscicio, fled with a battalion of Senate Guard into the lower levels of Eridu.  Draco wished to capture the rogue Consuls, so he announced he would kill a captive senator for every hour the Supreme Consuls stayed in hiding.  The Consuls were at a lose for what to do next.  That is, until Gasha warrior Trajan Larons and his apprentice, Taa Vas, snuck aboard the Red Leviathan and challenged Draco Ravorn to a duel.  Trajan was killed in the duel, but Taa was able to push Draco out of the ship; where he fell and was impaled on the Senate Palace.  Seeing their emperor dead, the sinn fled back to the Sinn Empire, but a Republic fleet from the Rylex Sector followed them to Korduun.  There the Republic fleet destroyed every last ship of the sinn fleet and radiated Korduun with a neutro bomb, making the world an uninhabitable, radiated wasteland for two-thousand years.  The descendants of Draco ruled an increasingly smaller and far weaker Sinn Empire from the planet Akshak.