The God King fell from the sky, the golden glow of his aura diminishing substantially. The arbiters phased into reality beside him, rifle in one hand, batons in the other. The arbiters attacked the God King, shooting their rifles with one hand and swinging their batons with the other. John aimed at the God King’s head and let off a few shots as well. Despite the overwhelming attack the God King still held his ground, his aura shield still functional, albeit much reduced. Was their plan going to work or were they all going to die? It would be better to die here than to live the rest of his life as a slave.

“It is his necklace,” cried Karamen. “The power is in his necklace.”

John noticed a necklace of crystal spheres around the God King’s neck. He began firing at them. Some of the arbiters aimed for the necklace as well. A few of the crystal spheres cracked, white gas escaping from them and dissipating into the air. The God King grew much weaker, panting while he defended himself.

“Enough,” the God King cried. The necklace began to glow. A wave of power pushed away the arbiters, throwing them against the surrounding buildings. The rain of diluvian crystal had ended. The God King’s aura grew brighter. This was it then. John felt lucky to have met Karamen and the other arbiters. If he was going to go out he’d go out fighting. It was much better than dying old and alone on his lonely planet.

“We have had a good time on the stage my friends,” Karamen shouted as he jumped to his feet, “but it is time to end the play. Let us take our bow and exit with great fanfare.”

“We are with you Karamen,” the arbiters shouted. They were not afraid of death.

Was all lost? John jumped down from the roof, his rifle trained on the God King. He’d go out with a blaze of bullets to the afterlife. The God King did not wait for the arbiters to cheer themselves on. He attacked, a rain of small golden daggers dropping from the sky. When they made contact with anything they exploded. The arbiters phased into and out of reality, dodging most of the blades. Suddenly, John heard a fierce battle cry. He saw the leader flying in the sky, dressed in silk and jewelry. She looked like an exotic princess. Sor Al flew beside her, her aura shield making her seem like a blue moon.

“What happened to the backup plan?” Karamen scratched his head, as the arbiters stealthily escaped, hiding in the nearby buildings. With the leader and Sor Al close at hand, hit and run tactics would work better, John realized. A group of women ran down the hill towards the God King, led by Sor Al’s servant, Lianel. They were all dressed in the finery of the harem. Some held guns, some held swords and spears. One even held a large rocket launcher. Were rocket launchers so common in this city?

The God King ignored John, who was the only person still in his vicinity, and flew into the sky to meet the leader’s charge. John chased after the God King, arbiters phasing in beside him. The leader struck at the God King with her aura sword, tendrils of light floating from the aura blade’s edge as it whistled through the air. The God King parried with an aura sword of his own. The two struck each other in a flurry of blows, deadlocked.

Meanwhile, Sor Al summoned lightning around her, black clouds forming above her head. With a wave of her hand the lightning struck the God King, who moaned in pain. Lianel and the other women caught up with the God King and began firing. A whip of flame formed from Lianel’s hand. The whip coiled around the God King’s aura shield. With a mighty heave, Lianel brought the God King to the ground. Lianel was a phoenix master, and a very strong one at that. John had always thought she was weak. After all, no warrior would be willing to be someone’s maid. He realized that he was biased. Maids could be strong too!

The God King had landed close to John. He screamed but his shield still held. Sor Al continued firing her lightning and the leader continued striking him down. Arbiters took turns slashing and disappearing. The God King slowly retreated towards John’s position. John ran forward, perceiver circuit on, and in a special state of hyper awareness. He wrapped aura around his gun’s barrel and shoved it, with great effort, through the God King’s aura shield. He’d seen something similar in an animated short on Earth. Surprisingly, it worked. John shouted as he pulled the trigger. The God King’s head exploded, blood and flesh sputtering onto John’s clothes. John felt his ears ring and his sight faded for a moment. He sat on the ground unable to move for awhile.

“This misery is ended,” the leader said, helping John stand up, half her jewels shattered and broken.

“Where is Tiluniel?” asked Karamen, while checking on John’s condition.

“Still in the palace, freeing all the prisoners. The few of us rushed out after hearing about your foolish plan.”

“Its execution was flawed,” Karamen sighed with regret. “I am to blame,” he said in an uncharacteristically soft voice filled with grief. Many of his comrades had just died. John didn’t know how to go about comforting him. The leader didn’t seem to care about Karamen’s feelings.

“Your plan was suicidal,” the leader snapped. “Too many of our brothers and sisters died this time. Organize the arbiters into teams. One group shall investigate the whereabouts of our weapons and armor. Another shall gather all our crew and head towards the factories, where the battle still rages. The last group shall capture the spaceport. Let no ship enter or leave. Find us decent ships to commandeer while you are there. We will leave this planet as soon as the battle is finished.”

Karamen saluted and left. Perhaps that was the way to get Karamen out of his grief, to distract him with work. The leader knew her people well.

“We cannot just leave,” said Sor Al.

“What would you have us do instead, realm mistress?”

“We must liberate all the slaves and eradicate this vile practice forever. The death of the God King will cause instability in the system allowing another tyrant to take his place.”

“And why must we help them?”

“We caused this mess. We must fix it. It is the morally right thing to do.”

“They are humans. Our morals do not apply to them.”

“Jehun is a human. You still did the right thing by him. At that time you said it was fate that brought you together. We have fate with this planet now that we’ve killed its king. There will be a bloodbath if we leave. There will be a bloodbath if we stay, but we can manage it better.”

“Jehun? You mean Wild Child? He is just a child and will be raised an elf. He showed great courage and strength when we found him, sacrificing his own well being to save us. This situation is different.”

Sor Al shook her head slowly, “it is the same. It is foolish to fight against fate.”

“I have lost too many troops,” the leader said. “They will not be pleased to fight a meaningless campaign on this planet.”

“Your troops hunger for vengeance. This campaign holds great meaning. It establishes our morals. It is a war worth fighting. With the God King gone, this planet has few who can be a threat against us. Their weapons are primitives and their star armada near nonexistent. The new regime we create will rule with enlightened benevolence. The system we leave behind will help its people for ages to come. If our people ever wish to expand to this area of the galaxy we will have an ally here. There are diluvian mines worth fortunes here as well, enough here to rival all the deposits we know of in the entire galaxy.”

“You are too much of an optimist. Any government we establish here might not last very long. First let us send the souls of our fallen brothers and sisters to the light of Rahl. After that, we shall stay here a month,” the leader finally acceded. “The navigator will need time in real space to get our bearings. I do not know what good we can do for this planet in a month’s time.”

“Thank you,” Sor Al smiled.