Arbiter Law 1: Killing is forbidden. No matter the reason.

  First Arbiter Conclave on Rybal Prime

  Duxon watched on with ever increasing relief as the Constane’s Ore ship disappeared below the metallic horizon of the Forge’s outermost bays. Until the craft, with its troublesome occupants, disappeared among the columns of perfectly white clouds below.

  “Thank the heavens I didn’t have to explain that mess to the head judge, Leil. I mean… she nearly beat that Tralon to death.” He posed this muttered question to his second in command while the Arbiter’s rectangular shuttle twisted precariously around in preparation for a final approach.

  “You overestimate the beating, sir. The Tralon was nowhere near dying.” The stoic solon commented. “In fact, I would hazard to say he probably enjoyed the confrontation.”

  “Hairs, Liel.” The commander sneered in disgust at his subordinate’s response. Events were accelerating now. And the last creature he wanted anywhere near the already incensed Arbiters was Mevasi and her unjustifiable situation. “For the life of me, I don’t know how you still count that Sentee as your friend.”

  “I count her as my friend Duxon because she is my friend. Plain and simple.”

  “Simple?” The large cat spat out the word. “I would hardly call that statement simple.”

  “It’s probably the same reason why I refer to you as my superior when the other council members are around to hear.” Leil instantly saw a confused look spread across his commander’s sallow face. How many times would he have to cover for such a lousy administrator? “But I believe the term you’re looking for is loyalty.”

  “Loyalty…” The commander ignored his subordinate’s veiled threats in favor of a more pressing matter, which not only affected him but the whole planet of Solon. “Friend or not, she’s still as guilty as the other one, Leil. Heavens, Mevasi’s culpability even rivals that of the entire sisterhood movement.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, Duxon.”

  “Well, I would.” He made a slight grumbling noise to show his discontent over the whole matter. “Running around making waves when the waters should be still, these Sentee anarchists need to put an end to all this strife and remember the natural order of things.”

  “Is that the natural order of things, Duxon?” For a moment, Leil felt sorry for his short-sighted friend. How many of his kind thought the exact same way as the Forge Commander? Too many probably. “Why is the upper cast, or for that matter, the Fentees alone meant to rule so completely and with no regards for the rest of our kind?”

  “The natural order of things is whatever the Arbiters deem it to be. You know that the same as I do, Leil.”

  In his brief time drawing breath, Duxon had only been present for one other trial. A catastrophe that also happened to involve another testy situation which fell squarely at the feet of this Sentee liberation madness. And the fallout from that disorder still reverberated throughout each of the great cities of Solon.

  And now, in less than a minute, another unwanted craft would be ready to disembark a whole new set of problems on his doorstep. Problems that were much larger than Mevasi Tiran and a few disgruntled Sentees bucking the system. For the Arbiter’s never visited Solon without a demanding reason and those reasons usually carried unwanted consequences.

  “Now leave me old friend.” Duxon said in a hushed tone. One that seemed to fear the walls overhearing their inappropriate conversation. “Before you accidently say something in front of him. Something I can’t talk your way out of.”

  “Very well,” Leil nodded as the wash from the Arbiter’s silent engines pressed all the facial fur flat against his skin. He sought to stay longer and meet one of these vaunted Arbiters up close. To see what in the universe could frighten full grown Fentees so greatly that the notion of free will became an unnecessary after thought.

  But in the end, he didn’t. Not with Mevasi so close to these proceedings. Besides, such meetings would come soon enough after the trial. When the real threats began. So, with a respectful nod, he said. “I’ll be in my office if anything important arises.

  Duxon returned the nod but didn’t bother to watch his opinionated second in command move wordlessly back inside the main Hub. For the machinations of those beneath his position meant very little at this moment. Not when compared to the ship currently on approach for the one docking birth off limits to everyone in the universe but the Arbiters.

  “Please let this judgment go quickly and smoothly this time.” He said under his breath to no one in particular. “I can’t take another spectacle.”

  Above him, forgoing all the laws of aerodynamics, a blocky black ship slid among the turbulent winds without the slightest bit of hesitation or difficulty. It slid downward through the scattered clouds on some unknown form of thrust until the craft was within spitting distance of his position.

  Then, the vessel adjusted its trajectory one last time before yawing forward and coming to rest within a couple of feet from the platform’s edge. And there the craft remained. Too large to fit inside the bay, the Arbiters ship merely hovered as close as it could get without crashing into the surrounding framework.

  Even the normally attentive umbilical cables remained firmly in place below the deck plates. Unmoving, it was almost like they feared what might happen if they connected to the blasted thing.

  “You’re going to have to swing around to unload!” Duxon screamed into the gusting wind as he searched for a normally present door or hatchway. Strangely, he saw none.

  Unsure of exactly what the Arbiters used for egress, he twisted his head around the stealthy amalgamation of a 2001 Space Odyssey monolith and a squat, yet elongated, onyx black Rubix Cube. This conundrum was quickly rectified though as the startled Fentee caught sight of something resembling a large doorway emerge on the backside of the ship. Only this doorway wasn't solidly formed or stationary. No, it started to slide along the bottom edge of the ship’s fuselage like a drop of rain sliding down a pane of glass.

  “The heavens have fooled my eyes.” The commander mumbled in disbelief as the enigma grew nearer to the front of the shuttle and closer to the docking bays embark point. “Impossible, hatches do not move freely within solid metal.”

  But this one did.

  It glided forward across the dense black material like a sailboat crossing a motionless lake. Until, suddenly, the strange door came to a halt directly in front of him. Once settled, the newly repositioned hatchway solidified into place then waited for a long beat before slowly opening outward like a small, medieval drawbridge over an absentee moat.

  “Greetings Arbiter,” Duxon called out into the newly formed, darkened entranceway after the craft continued hovering a few feet out of range for what seemed like an eternity. “Do you require assistance bridging the gap?”

  To this query, only the howling wind bothered to make any sort of reply. This quiet waiting game continued for a couple of moments longer before he spotted a shadow moving within the pitch-black entranceway. After a second, a solitary figure emerged into the light dressed from head to toe in a tightly tailored guise of murky wrappings.

  Wrappings which completely concealed everything beyond the simple outline of two arms and two legs. Even the head was partially covered by a half hood woven from the same densely wrapped cloth, leaving only the figure’s face partially exposed. But that face… there was something off about that face.

  Even though half his life had passed since encountering such a creature before, Duxon immediately recognized it as one of the Head Arbiter’s guards. An easy identification to make given the garments worn by them were more tactical in nature, as opposed to the Head Arbiter’s regalia which hung more loosely around his body like a tightly fitting robe.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  In fact, the only similarity shared between the two beings was the headgear which encircled their faces. How could he have forgotten the faces?

  Duxon made to call for some random Dockers to help retract the Arbiter’s ship closer to the railing when the ominous guard raised a cautionary hand for the commander to halt. Without offering a word of explanation, another guard emerged from the shadows. Together, both men casually strode out to the end of the hatch and bent down on one knee with their arms outstretched.

  “You’ll never reach the railing from that distance.” Duxon offered, recognizing the more than a foot long difference between their goal and their reach. But before help could once again be offered, a strange thing occurred. The guard nearest to his position shifted his body slightly backward until the distance became even more insurmountable.

  This weirdly unhelpful move was followed by the other guard mirroring it. Then, Duxon watched in absolute astonishment as their extended arms slowly began to stretch outward like a compressed cylinder being filled with grease. So far outward, that gloved fingers soon found sturdy railing to clamp down on.

  With a steady hold in hand, the guards wrenched down until metal bent easily. And within a couple of seconds, the Arbiter’s ship was pulled the necessary distance to bridge the gap between the hatch and the railing. And once the door overlapped far enough, the edge of the metal bent downward and attached itself like a hook, mooring the craft firmly into place.

  Job completed, the guards rose back to their feet and waited patiently for something or someone to appear from within the darkness. When that someone finally appeared, Duxon’s calm demeanor faltered as he saw the flowing robes of the Head Arbiter striding forward along the sloping hatch.

  “You look upset to see me, Duxon.” The shrouded figure observed lightly while hopping down onto the deck of the Forge without breaking its stride. “Why is that?”

  “Why?” Duxon’s normally unflappable demeanor froze mid-sentence as the Head Arbiter quickly closed the distance between the two of them.

  Soon, his visitor’s face became completely unhidden by shadow, and it was at that moment the Forge commander clearly remembered why he had forgotten the face. He had forgotten because there was no face to remember. Only a cavernous hole of empty space stood in for what should have been a visage of eyes and orifices.

  “Yes Duxon,” the head arbiter replied without the aid of a visible mouth. “That was the question I just asked you. Why do you look upset?”

  Duxon thought about the question for a moment before responding to the enigmatic figure’s question. “Things have occurred during the last two cycles which have angered many on this planet. In turn, those actions have spread outward into the void of space like audible cancer. Far enough to reach your attention. And for that, you have been forced to return Solon, Head Arbiter.”

  “That outcome should make you frightened, Duxon. Not upset.”

  In a show of prideful aplomb, the Forge commander rose up to his full height and puffed up his broadly muscled chest. “I’m upset you have been angered, Head Arbiter. I know I haven’t been in this position for more than a half cycle and my experience pales in the grand scheme of your plans, but nothing else in my life matters more than meeting your approval.”

  “My approval…” The head Arbiter raised a gloved hand to his faceless dome and a small guffaw emanated from nowhere. “Can you tell I’m angry, Duxon? Is that what my expression confers? Or maybe I look particularly sad right at this moment?”

  “No Head Arbiter, I meant no disrespect.” Even though he stood a good head taller than his blank faced inquisitor, Duxon retreated backward a step to signal his compliant nature. “To be honest, sir. I cannot see how you look right now. No one can.”

  "Quite true." Another cold, ambivalent laugh escaped from within the head wrapping’s void like a ghost in the blackness of night. “And there’s a reason for that, Duxon. Just as there is a reason for our return. Though neither one should take up more than a passing thought in your day.”

  “Of course, sir,” Administrators lived by their ability to read people’s moods. So, the giant cat perceptibly cringed, unable to determine from facial tics whether his attempts at honest placation were successful. Unsure of how to proceed, Duxon fell back on the ceremony by bowing his head low until they were even in height. “Again, I humbly apologize for any misunderstanding, Head Arbiter.”

  The faceless figure remained still and soundless against the howling wind which always pelted against the Forge’s bays so early in the morning. Like always, when confronted with such silence, the Forge commander’s instincts wanted him scream at the sky. But thankfully, his reasoned mind held his formidable tongue at bay.

  Thankfully, this pause in their conversation only lasted for a slightly interminable amount of time before another more genial laugh rang out.

  “Calm down Duxon,” The head arbiter reached out and placed a surprisingly gentle hand on the Fentee’s rigid shoulder which wilted under his light touch. “You look like you’re about to soil yourself. Besides, I’m not here to chastise you for being unable to steer the destiny of a planet. That’s not in your job description, nor is it in your nature to try.”

  Satisfied, the overwrought commander had calmed down enough to be useful. He took a few languid steps toward the main hub which was quickly followed by the guards leaving their positions immediately to join him. “What I am here to do is fix a broken system by passing judgment on a Sentee who thought it was within hers.”

  “I don’t understand sir, a broken system?”

  “Don’t trouble yourself with the details, Duxon. All I need from you is the leaders of the Great Cities assembled before midday tomorrow at the Elder ruins. Everything else will take care of itself.”

  “Tomorrow, Head Arbiter?” Duxon felt another pang of fear shoot through his body like a shock of unexpected electricity. Now, more than ever, he wished for an actual face to work off of. “Given the arrival of your message so early yesterday morning and the distance needed to be traveled, no one expected your arrival for at least a day, maybe two.”

  “We pushed the ship harder than we normally would have given the circumstances.”

  “Do you mean Timarn’s trial?”

  “No… not that trivial matter, Duxon.” He responded rather slyly to the commander’s attempt at prodding. “There is another issue we are currently dealing with, one which requires our immediate attention once Solon’s difficulty has been resolved, hence the need for haste.”

  Duxon’s shifting whiskers and nervous feet signaled the Solonian was on the verge of asking another question, but the Head Arbiter moved quickly to cut off any further inquiry into the matter. “Why? Does our accelerated timetable pose a problem for the commander of the mighty Forge?”

  “No sir, not for me. Everything within the manufacturing works has been locked down as you have requested. All construction’s been postponed and the pertinent parties are scheduled to be on the surface for the trial. However, this close to the end of the growing cycle, the head of each southern city is deep into the midst of their season’s final reaping.”

  “How do crops being wrought affect my timetable, Duxon?”

  “The leaders often prefer to be with their workers during the final push. And the fields in which they reap are immense in size. I sent two teams of runners out as soon as your message arrived, but considering the amount of territory they will have to cover to find them. It could easily be a few turns before their found.”

  “A few turns, you say?” The Head Arbiter’s absent face continued to reveal nothing of his mood.

  “Minimum, sir.” Duxon found himself wavering under a nonexistent gaze. “Without the aid of communication technology on the surface, there’s just no way to accomplish our search for them any quicker.”

  “You are correct about that, Duxon.” For cycles now, the only advanced technology on the planet of Solon resided high above the planet’s agrarian cities. A true dichotomy, the planet’s surface consisted solely of simple structures made from rough stone and sun-dried clay. There were no fancy buildings like in the sky. And that lack of engineering meant harvesting food relied solely on legions of Solonian labor that needed to remain useful.

  “Without the aid of communication technology, we will be waiting for turns to gather the quorum required for judgment.” Suddenly and without warning, the head arbiter raised his right hand and instantly the two guards scurried back inside the hovering shuttle. “That’s why I’m going to offer you some help.”

  “I don’t understand, sir. What can you do to help?”

  “There’s no need for you to understand how, Duxon.” The head arbiter took out a small device and placed his palm upon it. After a second, the device glowed a bright orange color then made an audible ping. “They’ll locate all the necessary leaders. I might have to wait for a couple of turns for the rabble to gather, but they will be much quicker than your people.”

  On cue, the hatch released its vice like hold on the railing and retracted quickly back into place. Without another signal from him, the ship rose up from its tenuous parking space and shot off like a rocket toward the horizon.

  “Now,” the head arbiter turned to a thoroughly confused Duxon Ultim. “There are a few things I want to inspect before turning in for the night.”

  “What of your guards, sir? Do you wish to wait for another shuttle to arrive, or should I call for some able body Dockers to accompany us on your tour?”

  “Those men are not my guards, Duxon. Only obliging souls willing to help further the cause. Besides, I don’t require anyone’s protection. I hope you understand that?”

  “Yes sir,” The Forge commander stepped aside, allowing the robed Arbiter a clear path to the entrance. Together, they hurried inside out of the tumultuous weather. “Then where would you like to begin your inspection? The Forge can be a very confusing and labyrinthine place for the uninitiated to try and traverse.”

  “That’s very helpful of you to offer, Duxon. But I was present the day the Forge’s first deck plating was riveted into place by eager Solon hands. So--- no tour guide is necessary.”

  As the two figures strode back toward the main hub, the large Arbiter ship shifted slightly to the right. Silently, a large part of the ship’s outer bulkhead slid smoothly to the side to reveal a fully equipped hangar bay. From inside this hanger bay, three ships about four times larger than the Head Arbiter’s shuttle launched outward.

  Two of the ships dove beneath the Forge’s sightline, turned in opposite directions, and sped off toward the horizon. Obviously, they were each headed off to round up some wayward farmers. However, the third ship took a completely different route. So, instead of skimming along the planet’s surface, it shot straight up and into outer space.

  And it didn’t stop at the asteroid belt. Nor did it stop at the edge of the system. No, the ship continued onward toward a completely different destination entirely. One that couldn’t wait for the trial to be finished. No matter how important the outcome was to the Arbiter’s plans.

  Why? Because this mysterious ship had another target in mind and whole other set of protocols to follow.