Illustration commission for  kesslan

"The rain poured down, thick and laden with accumulated pollutants and radioactive particles upon the desolate wasteland. Little, if indeed anything remained alive here. Seeing this, one would never have thought that this place had ever been the heart of a great city. Few ruins remained, and of those only an occasional stub of what had once been a building dotted the landscape. The ground had been turned to glass in many places from orbital bombardments and chewed up by high powered explosives everywhere else. The blood of entire generations, nay, an entire species soaked the ground here. But this was only a glimpse of how the rest of the world had fared. Even after over a millennia had passed, plant life upon this planet had barely begun to return. At least compared to how it had once been. A planet full of lush and exotic jungles, forests and plains all teaming with life.

A few faint shrubs and assorted grasses are all that survived in any noticeable number. Trees were virtually unheard of. Forests and jungles were now just distant memories archived in galactic records. The species that had once called this place home were not lost however. Not entirely. Spread out amongst the stars, the remnants lingered generation after declining generation. With no worlds left to call their own they had taken to the pathways amongst the stars. But with no places left to call their own, they were a dying species. Too many constantly lost their lives fighting for the causes of others. Too few remembered what had once been. Yet not all was lost, there were those who had foreseen such consequences. Plans had been made and carefully cultivated. All that was required was someone to put those plans into motion once again.

Heavy armoured boots walked along the ground, producing an occasionally loud crunch and snap as glass, rock and rubble were stepped upon. A lone figure wandered along, perhaps the first visitor here in almost seven centuries or more. The lone figure searched about, seeking something. A brief pause and a raise of one arm at first, and then a hand to press open a concealed computer panel in the beings armour. A few deft taps bringing up a ghostly orange holographic map overlay. Shades of long ago destroyed buildings popped into view, but these were ignored. For it was not the buildings this being sought, but rather the traces of old sewer lines and underground passage ways.

A few minutes later the being managed to reach his apparent destination, a long tail sheathed in segmented armour links swayed back and forth behind him as he considered the area before him and compared it to what his ghostly map indicated. A few taps to compare the area to an ancient topological map. A simple nod of acknowledgment to the long ago spirits of the slain and the computer and displays were shut down. A mental command to a cyberneticaly implanted radio sought out a connection to the nearest communications satellite, recently placed by a small flotilla of mostly nearly derelict ships waiting in space.

'Bring the Builders and Menders. It is still here.' A voice commanded.
In response several small transport ships broke away from the ragged flotilla waiting in space, descending towards the planet’s surface and the being’s position.

The Par’thra had come home at last."

Photoshop CS4 and SAI.