Volume 2 - Chapter 72 - Routine
| “You never hear them coming. The first notice you receive of their presence is the request for permission to arrive—minutes before they are simply there. Not that you can deny. Not that you would dare. Not that you could ever stop them. They wear no symbols. They carry no creed beyond loyalty. Their weapons and armor are nothing but a single seal. When one of them arrives, Generals forget how to breathe. Priests suddenly pray to nothing and everything at once. Admirals reread orders with shaking hands and cold sweat on their backs. Proprietors stare into the deepest void that space has to offer, desperately trying to remember where they might have gone wrong. They do not ask who fired first. They do not ask about intent or meaning. Justice. Intent. Meaning… Words that are nothing but noise to them. One word from them, and entire fleets are erased from the galactic equation. Another, and whole sectors are reassigned as if they were nothing but pieces on a board. They do not hate you... That is the worst part. None of their actions come from malice, spite, or rage. They do not raise their voice. They do not negotiate. They do not threaten. They only measure. They only judge. When the scale tips— Run, if you like. Hide, if you want to try. Fight, if you believe yourself foolish. Plead, if you want your last moments remembered as a joke. Cry, if you must, for history is already written the moment their word is spoken. Because when Terra itself knocks, it does not knock twice. And when an Arbiter delivers their verdict, the galaxy does not argue. It simply obeys.” — [Terran Imperial Library Excerpt: “The Terran Arbiters”, Laeria van Kunin, PFC756]
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