John felt his muscles quivering, aching to reach for his sidearm and pump rounds into the giant robot dirtbag. The pompous pile of bolts stood in front of the council as if he hadn’t just committed the biggest genocide in human history.

  John squeezed his fists. “They’re just letting him walk around?”

  Sam rushed over to John and pulled on his arm. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she said. “We’re not the law around here.”

  John looked back at her, disgusted. “We should say something. They can’t do this, Sam. Not after what he did to Earth. Thariel should be arrested and then shot.”

  They both stood together and eyed Thariel’s movements as he walked on stage and stood on stage before the Galactic Council. At one hundred feet tall, he towered over the Council and everyone else in the chamber. The hilt of his blade stuck out from the top of his propulsion pack.

  “We can’t do a thing about this,” Sam said. “No matter how much I want to.”

  “Why not?” John asked.

  “The Hyperions attacked Earth before we joined the Dependency.”

  “We’re at war, Sam.”

  “The ‘Humans of Earth’ are at war with the Hyperions but not the nations under the Galactic Council. Technically, the Dependency are at peace with the Hyperions.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “The Dependency won’t recognize the conflict. The Hyperions didn’t attack the Dependency, they attacked a territory outside of their zone of control. The Dependency has no justification for declaring war on the Hyperions, and if they did, the stakes would be too high. As of now, we’re alone in this conflict. Please try to remember that.”

  “What are friends if they won’t help us?”

  “We’re in a cold war…President Bridges nor I will stand by while the Hyperions live their lives as if nothing happened. There will be consequences. We are making friends, but it will take time before we can strike. Analysts are reviewing options for clandestine operations. With every second we breathe, we’re gathering intelligence about this new galaxy we find ourselves in. Perhaps soon, we’ll strike.”

  “They just let that genocidal maniac in here…what is going on…”

  “You have to accept the position as Arbiter. It’s our only chance of learning how to defeat them. We need that level of diplomatic immunity to pursue leads for intergalactic investigations. That will enable us to gather actionable intelligence.”

  He couldn’t think about that level of responsibility while the monster who killed Emily stood in front of him. Thoughts of a destroyed New York City filled John’s mind along with that terrible sound of Thariel screaming for his name. Did that thing remember him? He hoped not.

  While the Galactic Council introduced Thariel of Hyperia, the machine turned his head and examined everyone through his emotionless pearl mask.

  His gaze stopped on John.

  “What are you looking at?” John muttered under his breath.

  Although he was emotionless, John imagined an evil grin as Thariel turned back to the Council.

  John stepped forward. “Let’s get closer and see what the giant washing machine has to say.”

  “We’re both angry,” Sam said. “Try not to start a fight.”

  “Yeah.”

  John and Sam approached the edge of the stage. Thariel finished speaking in that off putting electronically enhanced voice of his. When John heard what he was saying, his lips curled.

  “Did he just say he wants to join the Dependency?” John said.

  “After what they did?” Sam said. “The support isn’t there.”

  “What if it is?”

  “Then we’re in big trouble.”

  They listened in to Thariel’s discussion with the Councilors. Everyone else in the room inched closer.

  “Please understand, generous Council,” Thariel said. “For ten thousand years I have entered this chamber and begged for our entrance into the Dependency. We need access to human hosts. Allow us access to the proper channels for diplomacy and trade. Only then can I begin to revive my dead Hyperion brothers and sisters in Hyperia who have lost their lives.”

  Councilor Lord-Ka spoke. “After what you did to the Humans of Earth, you’re lucky we don’t consider your expulsion from this palace of peace. You perpetuated the murder of millions of humans. Our laws forbid warring with you, but we are not blind to your savage impulses. Why should we help you? Why should anyone help you? You’re too dangerous and you’re unstable.”

  “We regret that diplomacy failed with the Humans of Earth,” Thariel said. “We believed our deal to be fair. Our anger possessed us to act in retaliation."

  John yelled out. “Murderer!”

  Sam grabbed John’s arm. “John, stop.”

  Thariel’s shoulder shifted slightly.

  “You don’t have many friends,” Councilor Marlen said. “We still feel the loss from our dealings with you. One hundred million souls, lost.”

  “A deal was struck,” Thariel said. “I remember it. I signed the agreement with your leader at the time. The terms were mutually beneficial.”

  “Do you regret what you’ve done?” Councilor Marlen said. “Do you care to return those souls?”

  “You know that I can’t do that. Those souls served a greater purpose—they revived the lives of one thousand Hyperions.”

  Marlen looked away, unable to hide his disgust.

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  “When will you forgive us?” Thariel said. “We lost ten thousand Hyperions, creatures of power and light. We can’t wait any longer. We must join the Dependency and legally trade for human hosts. It’s the only way I can save my people. Councilor Marlen, your kind preaches forgiveness in your temples. Can you forgive our sins over the last ten thousand years so we may walk together in the light of a new era?”

  “Your disdain for humanity is too well documented,” Councilor Marlen said.

  Thariel slammed his great foot down. As it collided with the stone platform, it shook the chamber. John felt the sting of fear creep into his spine. His hand fell to his sidearm.

  “Why do you betray us?” Thariel yelled.

  Councilor Marlen wiped the frustration off his face. “This will never end, Thariel. Why do you keep trying? Past atrocities withstanding, you lie about much and reveal little. Do you expect this council to believe you can change for the better? After what you did to Earth? Fifty million humans are dead.”

  In a flash, Thariel grabbed the hilt of his sword. He drew it one inch, but in that time, one hundred doors opened up high in a circle around the ceiling and revealed the barrels of turrets which slid out and aimed down.

  Thariel froze.

  “Put it down!” shouted an officer, somewhere in the distance.

  Thariel released his blade. His arms fell back to his side.

  “Please,” Thariel said. “My people call me a great king and yet I come before you a shepherd of injured sheep. Help us.”

  “I’m afraid that Councilor Marlen’s wounds are still fresh,” Councilor Vel’Rith said. He remained motionless as if dead.

  “Ten thousand years,” Thariel said. “When will you forgive us?”

  The Malkrathi councilor Lord-Ka let out a guttural war cry. Drool fell from the edges of his mouth. Lord-Ka slammed his fist onto the podium. “We will vote and end this tirade!”

  All three councilors pressed a button on their podium.

  Councilor Marlen said, “The vote is concluded. Your petition to join the Dependency is denied.”

  Without a word, Thariel turned and walked off stage. John projected the image of sadness on Thariel’s mask but in reality it was void of emotion and his eyes were hollow.

  Was he really just going to leave without consequence?

  John wouldn’t let that happen.

  He ran over to Thariel, ignoring the Dependency marines in the corner who shifted in response. They didn’t raise their weapons or shout for him to stop. John knew he couldn’t gun him down in the chamber like he wanted to because it would be ineffective—but he could do something.

  John stopped a couple of feet from him. He craned his neck and looked up. He clenched his fists. “Thariel! Speak to me like a man instead of the coward you are.”

  Thariel stopped. He turned his great form and looked down at John.

  John’s neck strained to look up at him.

  “Commander John Drayton of Earth,” Thariel said.

  “You remember my name which means you remember that crack I formed in your armor. I’m glad I left you with something to remember me by.”

  Thariel’s metallic finger brushed over the crack on his chestplate. “Yes. This will take one hundred human lives to repair. I plan to repair it immediately.”

  “What did you just say?”

  Something moved on Thariel’s leg. The plate armor just under Thariel’s kneecap popped open. John expected to see a bunch of wiring or some weapon meant to eviscerate him; instead, John witnessed a cerulean blue humanoid, a man in a black flight suit, who removed his straps and climbed out of the compartment in the Hyperion’s lower leg. The blue man was muscular and stood a good foot taller than John. His platinum hair was combed over and he looked at John with eyes tinged golden with black pupils. As he crawled out and stood in front of John, he smirked.

  “Humans find it hard to see the man inside the machine,” the blue man said.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Thariel. Well…I’m using an Elysian host body.” The man gestured to himself. “Unfortunately, Elysian hosts don’t live as long as humans. Only a year. We crafted this form. It’s genetically superior to humans in every way…except the longevity of its body. Its soul, however, lives forever inside of us.”

  “That thing is…some kind of flesh suit?”

  “An elegant way of putting it,” Thariel said. “I know we have unfinished business. You clearly hold a grudge for my actions against Earth.”

  “I can’t kill you but I can bruise some of that blue meat.” John raised his clenched fists. “Settle up, coward.”

  “Here?” Thariel said. His smirk formed into uncontrollable laughter. “This is a sacred chamber and the Dependency won’t allow conflict in these halls. You are a fool to—”

  John slugged the psycho on his chin which sent the Elysian toppling down onto the floor. The Elysian groaned for a second, but an instant later Thariel hopped to his feet with incredible speed and launched himself at John. The Elysian grabbed John’s shoulders and swept his foot, sending him to the ground. Thariel’s Elysian fist slammed into John’s face.

  “Creten!” Thariel screamed.

  John’s knee pounded into Thariel’s ribs.

  Thariel stopped punching and exhaled sharply. He groaned in pain.

  “How are your perfect genetics doing against this?”John jabbed a sharp knee into Thariel’s stomach. He then repositioned and jabbed his elbow into his ribs.

  The diplomats shouted from excitement and gathered around. One of the girls screamed and ran out of the chambers. The marines in the room held the crowd back and didn’t intervene.

  John wrapped his leg around Thariel and spun. Now John was on top of Thariel. He pounded Thariel’s perfect nose and teeth. He grew a sadistic grin. He enjoyed the fight. He enjoyed the pain. John punched him again. “That’s for Emily.” He hit him again. “That’s for New York.” Red Elysian blood ran red down Thariel’s nose and between the gaps of his busted teeth. Thariel spat a tooth which bounced off John’s eye, forcing him to stop momentarily. Thariel slammed his head into John’s nose.

  “Ah!” The pain rattled him, stunned. John scrambled away from Thariel.

  Hands wrapped around John’s arms. Dependency marines lifted him to his feet and held him there. John tasted iron. He spat a glob of blood on the ground by Thariel’s boot, who remained on the floor like a victim. Thariel wiped the blood from his lips.

  The marine beside John barked. “No fighting in the chamber!”

  Two other marines rushed over and grabbed Thariel. They drug him up to his feet. Thariel pulled himself back and climbed back into the Hyperion leg. The marines stood by and let him. The armored plating closed behind him, sealing the bloodied Elysian back inside the Hyperion.

  Before John could think of hurling the next insult, Hyperion Thariel stepped out of the diplomatic chambers and onto the terrace. The great pulse of energy from his electromagnetic propulsion pack launched the Hyperion into the air which sent a great shock of vibration through the ground. Some of the older diplomats fell onto the floor. Kids in the distance screamed in fear.

  Sam rushed over to John. “Let him go!”

  The marines released John and walked back to their posts.

  Councilor Vel’Sem approached. “Commander Drayton, you must control your anger in the chamber. Please…show some restraint.”

  “How can I restrain myself when that killer roams free?”

  “What can we do about it?” Sam asked. “We don’t have senators. We don’t have the support for real military action. We don’t have the kind of force we need to fight them.”

  “Commander,” Vel'Sem said. “I urge you to reconsider the title of Arbiter.”

  “We need fleets to defeat the Hyperions,” John said.

  “The Arbiters have more military advantages than you know,” Vel'Sem replied. “The Galactic Council has given me access to the closest Arbiter Lounge where you can claim your Griffin Wing.”

  “What is that?” Sam asked.

  “It’s the symbol of the Arbiter,” Vel’Sem said. “Every Arbiter wears one. It’s a weapon…of sorts.”

  “Say no more,” John said. “Show me the weapon.”

  If it was anything that could help him kill Thariel, he needed it. They had some support in the galaxy, such as the Cortari, but it was clear that most of the dirty work would depend on John’s actions. However, if the Council wanted to share a gun with him, he would take full advantage and inch closer to his revenge against Thariel.