CHAPTER 1

It was March 2, 3457; five years after the Federation of Planets hadreorganized to form the Unified Galactic State following the defeatof the Neptunian threat. General Saigon Alexander, a hero in hisown right sat in his chamber aboard the ESS Sphinx, reflecting onwhat had been a tumultuous career that had seen him go throughboot camp and single-handedly defeat the Neptunian leader and anarmy of 15,000 Neptunian foot soldiers. The decorated championof the Galactic Police got very little sleep, partly due to chronicinsomnia, which had plagued his family for generations, but also dueto a feeling of unrest. He and his crew were flying out in search of themost notorious criminal in the galaxy, a Mercurian by the name ofTsu'lakti. Over the span of eleven years, Tsu'lakti had orchestratedattacks on the hotel on Olympus Mons in which dignitaries fromseveral planets were staying, destroyed a Gliesian moon, and orderedthe mass slaughter and cleansing of the entire Beta-Cancrean system.When Unified Galactic State President O'rrrrah, the Libraean, sawthe danger such a criminal posed to galactic safety, he sent theGalactic Police's best team to find him and bring him to justice.

Saigon wasn't restless because of a fear of inadequacy. Heknew his crew, composed of friends from his youth, was up forthe challenge. They had all achieved incredible rank for their agesand their battle résumés were far more impressive than those oftheir peers. Rather, something didn't sit right with him and hecouldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Realizing that he wasaccomplishing nothing all alone with his thoughts, Saigon exited hischamber and headed to the war room, where his crew awaited him."General," began Giovanna Milan, the Sphinx's Navigator, "I thinkwe have intel on the whereabouts of Tsu'lakti. He appears to be inhiding on SWEEPS-04."

"Good job, Vice Admiral," He started to thank her, "keep a safedistance from the planet."

She smiled, revealing two perfect rows of white teeth. She admiredSaigon, she always had, but due to their professional relationship, shenever thought to tell him. They had been friends since they were sixand now, nearly twenty years later, they were still inseparable. Sheplaced the craft in a test pattern just far enough from the planet toremain unseen in the clear skies of the SWEEPS night. She stoodup and stretched her toned legs, which poked out from under bluefatigue Capri pants. Her long black hair rested in a ponytail atopher head. Her golden-hued, olive skin glowed in the light of the warroom. Her wheat-colored almond-shaped eyes squinted shut as shelooked away from her screen. Her abs were visible, unconcealed bythe belly shirt she wore to show off her curvaceous figure. Light fromthe ship's interior glinted off the badge she placed on her shirt. Sheturned. "Take a picture, Sergeant, it'll last longer."

"Yeah but I'm enjoying the view," replied their friend Zoser Rice,the weapons specialist. He had been the mastermind behind thethermal melee weapons the Galactic Police had become accustomedto using, yet instead of having business savvy, his passion was for thebattle field, on which he was a fierce warrior. "Madame Vice Admiral,forgive me for being blunt but your body does look incredible in thatoutfit."

"Focus on the task at hand," Giovanna said.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," Zoser said in a slightly perverted tone as heturned away to help equip Saigon and the rest of their compatriots.

"We do this by the book," Saigon said in his deep, somewhatraspy voice that pointed out his seasoned hardness, even at the tenderage of 25. He had enlisted just under eight years ago and after asix week boot camp, joined the Galactic Police. His commitmentinspired his friends, causing many of them to enlist and join hiscrew, especially after his triumph over the Neptunians on the water-coveredplanet. Beside him as they prepared to embark stood hisLieutenant, Admiral Konan Muldrow. Konan was a hot head, buthe was in many ways one of Saigon's closest friends. The two wouldnever admit it to anyone, not even each other, but they secretlyneeded each other to balance them out. Saigon acted as a voice ofreason whenever Konan became too quick to rush into battle, whichoften saved all of their lives due to Konan's incessant recklessness.When Saigon took too long or was thinking too hard, Konan oftenquickly made the decision for him, which saved their lives becausewhen pulled into battle, Saigon was unmatched. On Saigon's otherside stood Sergeant Groucho Horne. He stood second-tallest behindZoser and he fell into his role entirely by accident. He had signed upand enlisted just so he could enjoy the benefits that Galactic Policeofficers had, but fell in love with the idea of serving the very republiche held dear and stayed on. He was adept in repairing ships, and thisskill was often used after a brash and near-fatal rush-in perpetratedby Konan. Far off, in the corner, sat Corporal J'Quon Rah'Khalil,known throughout the galaxy as "JJ". He was the oldest by far of thecrew and acted as a big brother to everyone aboard. He had savedSaigon from what would surely have been a life of crime and put himon the right track, a feat for which Saigon was eternally grateful. Histhick braids covered his shiny copper head and he looked on with alook of indifference with a hint of despair.

"Something wrong, JJ?" inquired Saigon, leery of his friend'scountenance, which bore an all-too-familiar look that was often aharbinger of bad things to come.

JJ shook his head "It's nothing, sir, just getting a bad feeling isall."

"Well alright, you stay here and keep Giovanna and Chinemelucompany, you've earned some rest. That's an order, soldier."

"Sir, yes, sir".

Chinemelu Onyeji, the on-craft medic, strapped a miniaturefirst aid kit onto each man before they left. His partially sunkenfeatures and large flowing scrubs hid an Adonis-like physique withthe heart of a lion. While he was a relative stranger to combat, hewas still known to bring the pain when necessary. The men suitedup for ship-to-planet travel and set out. As they entered the SWEEPSatmosphere, Saigon felt an immediate wave of dread wash overhim. SWEEPS-04 was desolate and was a home to dozens of races,including a vast Mercurian population. Mercurians were notoriousfor their open refusal to extradite one of their own, no matter what.Through the visor of his Ship-to-Planet suit, known as an STP, hesaw his friends' faces as they began their descent to the coordinatesof Tsu'lakti's hideout.

"General, I've got a visual on the building," reported Zoser.

"Roger that. Sergeant Horne, send a probe so we know we're noton a wild goose chase," ordered Saigon.

"Sir, yes, sir," replied Groucho as they all switched their STPsuits to hover. He released a small silver ball that floated lightlylike snow into an open crack in the ceiling and used its panoramiccamera to scan its surroundings. Sure enough, inside was Tsu'laktisurrounded by an army of Mercurians. The notorious villain wasdistinguishable only through his immense size and the seven-inchwound in his chest that he sustained from a Galactic Police footsoldier's tomahawk a year ago. The soldier in question lost his life,but he remained in Tsu'lakti's head.

"Commander," he motioned to the Mercurian guard directly athis side, "I sense a plot to destroy me. Tell those of your men not onduty to join those that are."

"Yes, master," the guard replied in an identical, wheezy Mercurianaccent. As he walked away, Tsu'lakti rose and limped to his chamber,an enclosed section of the hideout that had only one way in or out.When he shut the door and sat down, Saigon gave the signal and he,Zoser, Groucho, and Konan descended, each taking a wall of theperimeter. "When I say mask, I want each of you to plant your wallcharges and meet me on the north side of the building," he ordered."Ready ... mask!"

They each planted their tiny explosives in holes within thebuilding's mortar and moved to meet their leader. Saigon pressed thedetonator and one by one, east, west, south, and north, the chargesexploded, taking out the first wave of guards and startling the others,who couldn't figure out which way to face to combat the oncomingthreat.

"We take Tsu'lakti alive! Otherwise, let's show what we cando," shouted Saigon, unsheathing his tomahawk and activating thethermal power within it that made it a much deadlier weapon. Thefour men looked at each other and a strange, infectious twinkle camefirst to Konan's eyes. When Saigon showed it too, they charged in todo battle with the enemy.

CHAPTER 2

Always first into battle, Konan maneuvered through fallingdebris and bodies and deliberately engaged groups in the melee, oftendrawing three or four guards to himself. His twin tomahawks gaveoff a dazzling green hue as they released super-heated chlorine intothe cuts of those he attacked. One hapless guard tried to sneak behindhim, charging in silently through all the chaos. As if instinctually,Konan turned and severed the top of his head and the bottom of hisshins. As the guard lay dying, screaming in pain, Konan smiled androared as he whirled his tomahawks high above his head and broughtthem down on the guard's back, killing him. The guards tried to fighthim off at a safe distance using spears they had stolen and duplicatedfrom the Galactic Police years ago, but the unquenchable thirst forblood that had characterized Konan's lifestyle kept him going. Hemercilessly carved each letter of his name into a different soldier,telegraphing his slices so perfectly that the bodies fell and spelled outhis name in silver Mercurian blood. Konan started to cheer at thesight of the carnage he had caused, cockily turning his back on thebattle to admire what he had already done. He was quickly broughtback to earth when a gigantic war hammer came crashing into hishelmet, fracturing his skull and sending him careening. For mostother officers, that would be enough and resignation would be metwith thunderous applause and adoration. For Konan, however, theblow to the head only served to give him a furious new clarity. Hestood, blood filling his eyes and a constant ringing in his ears fromthe surefire concussion he had undoubtedly received. He removedhis helmet, tasted the blood that ran down his face, and smiled a sick,twisted smile. He picked up his twin tomahawks, which he had named"Justice" and "Vengeance", and flew at his assailant. The Mercurianwas well prepared to fight Konan. He had a counter to every moveand his hammer never stopped swinging so even while he was onthe defensive, he still had a chance at some offense. He kept Konanon his toes with a few glancing blows and laughed as the humanstruggled to keep up with his pace. In his arrogance, he tried to endKonan's life with a wild swing. Konan ducked and came through withboth tomahawks into the chest, screaming as he raked down throughthe stomach and out through the groin. The guard's blood spatteredeverywhere and he gurgled a curse word at Konan with his last breath.Konan smiled and shook his head before returning to battle.

Groucho's craftiness and wit were always his primary weapon.His kills often looked like accidental suicides and the circumstanceshe manipulated to make them happen were almost comical. As twoguards rushed in with spears to impale him, he jumped at the lastsecond and they killed each other. He bent backwards to avoid thewild swing of a guard which ended up decapitating another. "Wellthat's no way to get ahead in life," he joked before he did a split anddelivered three quick chops to the guard's gut, killing him. He rosein time to be chased by a group of guards towards what was leftof the south wall. Groucho ran up the little wall that was left andlaughed as the guards impaled themselves on the debris, writhingand squirming to their deaths. He actually hated fighting, preferringto watch and crack jokes on the sideline with other onlookers. Whenhe was in boot camp, he had earned the nickname "Color" for hisnever-ending commentary of everything going on around him.

Zoser took no joy in using the weapons into which he placed hisheart and soul, rather, he felt that his genius was being put almost towaste by the Galactic Police. He towered over the Mercurians as theyrushed towards him, only to have their heads lopped off one by one.A grimace became permanently etched in Zoser's face as he coldlywithstood wave after wave of foes, slicing off limbs and heads, severingbodies and faces. This is not what he had envisioned. He never wantedto enlist. He had only done so as a means to display his ability to designweapons. Justice was not what interested him as much as profit. Hehad been banking on becoming the primary weapons provider for theGalactic Police, or "GP," as he called them, and retiring a rich man.It wasn't until Saigon filled his head with ideas of service and passionand a penchant for action that Zoser, begrudgingly, stepped into hisrole. His promotion to Sergeant was a small miracle to him, as he felthe hardly showed the necessary tools to move past boot camp. He oftenused to say either GP was going soft, really needed new members, or hejust got lucky. Everyone knew he was great in battle, but nobody couldreally get through to him the joys of serving UGS interests when hisown monetary goals were not being met.

Saigon had been a soldier since Day One. His father, Cerbro,was a decorated retired Galactic Police Field Marshall. He had beenone of the main people fighting to keep the peace at the onset ofthe Federation of Planets, which stood for years as the precursor tothe Unified Galactic State. A product of Earth, Saigon grew up ona Galactic Police outpost in Alabama. He and his friends, the veryones beside whom he now fought, would travel often to other citieson their planet. If danger ever loomed, Saigon the fearless leaderwas usually quick to get himself and his friends out of the jam byany means. By Konan's account, Saigon had gotten soft with hisrank and no longer possessed the hunger to turn each battlefieldinto a work of art. Being the only one that really saw Saigon inbattle as he rose through the ranks, Konan always gave account ofSaigon's ruthlessness and insatiable appetite for destruction. Thebrash lieutenant of the ship would always tell the story of Saigon'sbloody conquest of Beta Pictoris b.

In that particular episode, Saigon, eager to prove himself to becapable of leading and being a senior officer, flew a solo mission downto the planet, armed only with his father's tomahawk. As soon as hisship's cockpit opened, out jumped Saigon, wildly swinging away,maliciously eradicating the entire population of the planet. Womenand children fell at Saigon's feet as the Pictorian military threw waveafter wave of innocent civilians in his way to slow him down and givethem time to come up with a way to kill him. After he had withstoodall of the civilians, Saigon leapt from soldier to soldier, making deathand blood rain down as if the clouds themselves had been stabbed.One soldier got a good slash across Saigon's face, leaving the scarthat still littered his ruggedly handsome visage. Blinded with furyat the soldier's audacious swing, Saigon lost it and flew into a ragethat decimated the Pictorian forces, leaving no survivors. By the timehe arrived at the castle of the Pictorian King, Hyziex the Wise, hewas covered with and drunk off of Pictorian blood. He had feastedon the corpses of the slaughtered. Hyziex sent wave after wave ofhis royal guard in a futile effort to at least slow down his attacker.Saigon, unflinching, ripped through the guards and forced Hyziex towatch as he killed his wife and twelve children, before killing Hyziexhimself. This was the Saigon that Konan held dear, the Saigon thatKonan befriended, not the version that seemingly had an aversion tosetting diplomacy aside in favor of the kill first, ask later mentalitythey once shared.