Story:The Best of the Best

The Best of the Best is an intermediate story detailing the formation of the Galactic Senate Special Operations Corps. It immediately follows the events of The Reunion.

Introduction
...aboard a space station in orbit of Malisk II

"Uszaroth..." Ivanov said. "I've never seen anything like it. What else could the Kklxin be doing?"

Karrel replied, "This may be far more dangerous than our two empires can handle. We're going to need some extra help. But from who?"

"I do know of one empire. It's called the Galactic Senate, owned by the Karnasaur Meritocratic Federation. We recently joined their council and we invite you to do the same."

"Join them? We Dhragolon aren't meant to be annexed into other empires."

"No, of course not. The Galactic Senate is nothing more than a meeting ground meant for all empires in the galaxy. It's a place where we can all discuss galactic matters."

"Very well," Karrel said. "I'll order the Council of Ucharpli to send an ambassador over there."

...the Galactic Senate

To do: Add the names of the senators

"Do you not realize how big of a threat these Kklxin are? They've just unleashed a creature of unfathomable power that nearly destroyed our homeworld!" said the Eteno senator.

"We understand, but it's simply impractical for us to send reinforcements," said the Karnasaur senator. "We're on the opposite side of the galaxy with our own share of problems to deal with."

"Perhaps we don't need reinforcements..." said the Dhragolon senator.

"What do you mean?" the Eteno senator replied.

"How about a team? A team that will take on missions that no one else can do. The last resort when our armies alone cannot do the job."

The Eteno senator replied, "If we are going to form such a team, we need the truly most fierce warriors and engineers from the galaxy. The best of the best. They must be handpicked for this team. The Galactic Senate Special Operations Corps."

The Karnasaur senator replied, "I agree. This team shall consist of one member from each of our races. We must now find one chosen warrior who can take on these tasks."

Tholker Zhevhyit
It was a normal, daily briefing on the current situation on Getrik. Harbinger resistance, more resistance, it was all the same at CXVII Corp headquarters. Suddenly, three soldiers loudly entered the room, rousing Captain Zhevhyit from his extreme state of boredom.

"Captain Zhevhyit! By order of the Department of Miscellaneous Frontline Supplies under Brigadier General Sykes, you are ordered immediately to the Galactic Senate for special assignment!" The lead one yelled.

"Sir, yes sir!" Tholker replied.

The three Eteno nodded, and Tholker walked out of the room with them. He leaned in close to the lead one, and whispered.

"Sir, you do know that I'm a supersoldier, correct?"

"Why do you think you got this assignment directly from General Sykes? 'Course we know what you are!"

"Alright sir. Will I be taking a shuttle, or am I going alone?"

"Yer own private transport. First class, Captain. I envy ya', but this must be a ****ed important assignment if you're gettin' all that luxury! You'll be meeting up with some liasion when you land, that's all I know."

--

The ride was only a few hours, and Zhevhyit tried to distance himself from the luxuries offered to him. Luxury makes a man weak. That's what his pop always told him. The supersoldier walked off the boarding ramp of his transport to meet a Dhragolon on the landing pad beside the senate hall.

"Ah, you must be Captain Tholker Zhevhyit. Linguistics expert, and airborne insertion specialist?" The aide spoke to him.

"That would be me. What's the assignment?"

"I apologize, but I do not know. I have been instructed to lead you to the bunker where the team will be assembling."

"Lead the way, then."

Ahrganot Skiszgo
Ahrganot lay in sleep, yet restlessly, aboard the flagship Garmatox, owned by Grandmaster Zerif. He began to see blurry images. It was a reoccuring nightmare he had been having for about 80 years. Three grotesque figures were battling against a phantom. The phantom would get the upper hand of the battle. The figures begged for assistance calling out to him, "Find us!"

"Churszath Master Ahrganot Skizgo, please report to the bridge." Skizgo had woken up disoriented. Trying to get back in focus, Skizgo headed off to see what his Grandmaster wanted. After arriving, Skizgo quickly raised his right arm to his left shoulder, saluting his superior.

"Master Ahrganot Skizgo reporting for duty. What is it that you wish to ask of me, sir?"

Zerif replied, "At ease, Master. I have a special assignment for you. The Galactic Senate is in need of the most elite soldiers of the galaxy to take on some dangerous tasks. As you have demonstrated in your past experiences, I believe you are most qualified for these assignments."

"What are these assignments you speak of?"

"I do not know myself, but when you get there, you will find out. All I was told is that these missions are for the best of the best and no ordinairy Churszath or Alda'kapura would be eligible."

"You think I'm qualified? But-"

"Why else would I have chosen you? The order was to choose the best of our race to represent the Dhragolon Federal Monarchy.  Ever since I first met you back on Ucharpli, I knew what you were capable of.  Why else would you have become a Dhragolon Master?  Your skills are admirable, don't be too humble about it.  Be proud of who you are."

"Thanks, Grandmaster."

"No, thank you for being a part of the 11th Melee Subdivision. Anyway, there's a shuttle escort in the hangar waiting for you. May Kray be with you."

--

The Garmatox was rather close to where Skiszgo was headed to so the trip was not terribly long. Not long after arriving, he was escorted to a place simply known as the Bunker. Skizgo had continued to ponder about his nightmare. Even though he sought a greater truth, he told others that he would never return to Ucharpli. Nonetheless, he focused on the task at hand: settling into the bunker that awaited.

Etah Owar (Karnasaurs)
Colonel Etah was having another one of those days.

After living for 4,999 years, he had seen everyone he loved wither and die, practically before his very eyes. He was tired of life, the only highs out of him were during combat and diplomacy. He had been all around the glaxy, seeing cradles of civilization, Karnas, Heglarea, Hunre, dozens of other homeworlds and thier colonies. He had seen stars enter the main sequence, he had seen a Galactic War start and end, he served on the Senate for a few years, even. He recentally began attempting suicide, knowing none of it would work.

To make matters worse, it was his birthday.

The average Karnasaur was lucky to see year 1,050. Yet here he was, alive and kicking, 5,000 years after the day of his hatching. Ever since the Galactic War ended, he regretted volunteering for the ELICAN program. ELICANS never die, they would say, and yet, here he is, Last of The Ten. 9 ELICANS were listed as KIA. 3 actually are. Four of them are trapped in Spode knows where after sabotaging a Hunre Crown prototype wormhole drive. They accidentally damaged it in a short firefight, and it set off, opening its exit wormhole at a set of random coordinates. Two faked thier own deaths to escape to the Galactic Fringes, to live thier eternal lives together (yes, they were opposite genders). The three that are actually dead were killed saving Etah, shoving him through a wormhole to safety after setting an anti-matter bomb in a Hasheaon compound. Etah lived ever since believing that he was the reason they died.

The reason she died.

Suddenly, catching his attention from his reminenscing, the door to the observation room was opened.

"Colonel Etah. Royal Orders were faxed through just now. We're to set course for these coordinates andawait instruction from a Senatorial overseer." The runner explained.

A moment of thought from Etah, and then a simple order:

"Make course, then."

--

A short ride of a few minutes (Etah's flagship had the finest technology available, be it weapons, sheilds, or FTL), Etah was looking at an unassuming planet below. He looked at his first mate.

"Are these coordinates correct? We've been waiting for a half hour, and still we haven't been hailed by a Senatorial."

"They are correct sir. Here, see? We're being hailed by- Wait, no, that can't be right..."

"What is it?"

"It's channel 910-13, scramble set 1.425."

"There is no channel 910-13" says a nearby technician.

"Ah, but there is. I've used it occasionally. It's used for super top secret transmissions, Senatorial Hi-Risk only. It's no wonder thier using it to contact a HIRIOT. But here, on this planet..."

"Not just on this planet, sir. Approximately 3 klicks underground."

Etah stood and thought for a moment.

"Pick it up, we've kept them waiting."

"It's text only sir, encoded in a cipher."

"Use cipher set 11.1201"

Hesitation form the first mate, then action.

"We've been ordered to land at a small bunker at these coordinates, sir. There's also a riddle: In the maintence room, say only your name."

"Then set us down, Lt. I think I have an idea of what I've been summoned for."

"Sir?"

"Sorry, Lt. Can't tell you. Very hush-hush."

"And sir-"

"What, Lt?"

"We're not the only ones here."