Chapter 5 - The Great Journey
GORAST - ABOARD THE "TERIDAX'S WILL"
Unlike Icarax, Gorast preferred to maintain a presence on the command deck of her personal destroyer; Teridax's Will. Barging onto the bridge, every single member of the crew immediately stood at attention. An Ursare aquamarine hollered "Makuta on deck!", though it was hardly necessary, as already anyone who did not wish to die a painful death had snapped to a ramrod-straight position. Gorast ignored her crew, marching to the center of the bridge viewport. Ahead, she could see the Olmak gate, like an open maw, waiting for her. The sight brought warmth to her heart (or what could best be approximated as such), as she thought of the work she would do soon. Bringing Teridax's divine influence upon another universe was the greatest task she had ever been assigned in her life, and she relished each opportunity.
"Ahead full." she said, as the captain raised a brow. For a moment, he seemed ready to argue about the positions of the ships, and their matched speed, but he thought better of it, repeating her order instead.
"Ahead full aye." came the reply, as the ship began to speed up. Whatever awaited her on the far side of the portal, she was ready for it.
With a thunderous boom, the nose of Teridax's Will plunged into the water. It had fallen through the second portal for what felt like ages, as Gorast watched in a silent, stunned state, a new world open up before her. Falling shortly behind the Indomitable, her ship had shared in the same harrowing plunge into the unknown. Within moments of entering the portal, a fresh and unusual sight awaited her. Blankets of torrential rain, and a surging sea - it was a storm, surpassing in strength any she had ever seen in her life. For a moment the ship hovered in the air, weightless; then the ever-present grip of gravity seized hold of her.
The ship plunged, nose-first, like a torpedo, into the water, sinking several meters. Gorast could see the ocean's surface, as the waves surged closer and closer to the window of the bridge. A crewmember screamed, and tumbled onto the glass, which sent fikouwebs of cracks across it. Gorast sucked air through her teeth, bracing for the ship to continue its trajectory. Within moments, the bridge would strike the water, and flood the entire room.
Instead, the ship slowed, and creaked dramatically. It was as if every bolt, rivet, and weld was screaming in anguish, as the ship was torn between the forces acting upon it. Lethargically, buoyancy won, and the ship started to right itself, as thousands of tons of water spilled off of its nose and back into the sea. With a tremendous slam, that sent a shock through her body, the rear of the ship, once dangling in the air hundreds of feet above the water, slammed into the sea. Alarms began to ring around the bridge, as the collapsed members of the crew began to clamber upright.
"Hull breach in fore sections two, seven-"
"Flooding in first two compartments-"
"I've got injured on all decks, reported man overboard-"
"We've lost propulsion-"
"I can't steer, I can't steer!"
The chaos around Gorast irritated her, and after a few moments, she began to clench her fists. Expelling a wave of silence throughout the bridge, everything suddenly went quiet - the only noise that could be heard was the battering of rain against the viewport.
"Silence!" she screamed, as the crew stood stupefied. Slowly, she lowered the field. "Comms, do you have communications with the Indomitable?" she asked, praying that they were faring better than her own crippled ship.
"Yes ma'am, I've made contact with their communications officer, they're reporting similar issues on board-"
"Look out!" someone shouted, as there was a bright white flash from somewhere above the ship. Just next to them, Gorast could see another ship - the Dominion - plunging into the sea. It appeared to survive the trip in an even worse state, as it crashed into the sea before being buffeted by waves. There was a thundering crash, as the ship began to capsize, falling onto its side rather than its belly.
"Signal from the Dominion, they're calling for evacuation!"
"Evacuation? They've only just crashed, how can they know-" Gorast asked, before she was answered by the sight of the rear turret on the Dominion exploding violently. The utterly destroyed weapon shot deep into the water, and flames could be seen leaping from the turret housing.
"Signal life raft bays, tell them to get every boat they have into that water-" The captain began, but Gorast silenced him with a wave.
"Belay that. Focus on our own ship. Antroz will survive - for now, we focus on our own troubles."
"Another ship coming through now, ma'am!"
KABEI - UNKNOWN
Kabei had spent a calm past hour sitting in his cabin - a small room, with a bunk built into the wall - waiting for someone of a higher position than him to let him know how the Great Journey had gone. Sharing the space was a Ko-Matoran who had responded in a series of grunts when spoken to, and whose name Kabei did not know.
What Kabei did know is that something had gone terribly wrong - as evidenced by the fact that his cabin was now tilted at a precarious angle, plunged into darkness, and he could hear the sound of screaming coming from outside the room. Climbing to his feet, he pulled a lightstone from his pack, and ran for the Ko-Matoran, who had fallen from his bunk and hit his head on the way down.
"Are you alright?" he asked, frantically, while tapping the Ko-Matoran's shoulders. The white-armored Matoran shook his head for a bit.
"I'm fine- what happened?" he replied, finally speaking words for the first time.
"I don't know, but the ship is listing - I think we crashed!"
"You think?" the Ko-Matoran replied sarcastically. Standing upright, he pushed his way up the slanted floor, and towards the metal cabin door. Pushing it open, the two Matoran looked out into the hallway. It, too, was completely dark, though he could see a bright flash of light illuminate the area through one of the portholes. The two could hear the sound of rushing water from below.
"Hand me another Lightstone," the Ko-Matoran demanded, prompting Kabei to fish one out of his pack. Holding out into the hallway, he let go of the crystal, watching it illuminate the hallway as it rolled along the floor. Finally, after a few seconds, it splashed into water, and briefly lit up a shallow pool at the end of the hall.
"I think we're sinking," Kabei said, nervously.
A loud crash sounded, before another door slammed open. Matoran, Turaga, and other Oropi (18) spilled out of their rooms, several calling for help. Kabei could see a Bomohku (19) whose arm had clearly been crushed, and a Matoran with a large crack running down their Kanohi. As they emerged into the tilted hallway, the assortment looked up and down the hallway, and a frightened gasp sounded out at the sight of the water slowly rising. Within moments, a small stampede had begun to form, heading towards higher ground. Jostled into the hall from behind, Kabei saw the Ko-Matoran join the crowd without a second thought.
Should I go? What if someone comes to rescue us? What if-
Kabei did not have the opportunity to finish his train of thought, before a second white flash illuminated the sky. Unlike the last one, however, which was followed by the clap of thunder, this one was followed by the clap of something large making a rather substantial impact. Kabei could hear the sound of metal striking metal, before suddenly the entire ship bucked into the air, and he was thrown into the ceiling, dazing him.
Kabei lay there for an indeterminate amount of time, as stars danced across his vision. It was only when he could feel water lapping against his Kanohi that he peeled himself off the floor, nursing his brain crystal. His pack was now floating in ankle-deep water, and he grabbed at it, hoping to save it before it became completely waterlogged.
"Hello? Anyone?" he called out, hoping someone else was nearby. Poking his head out of the door to the cabin, he was amazed to feel the sting of rain crashing down onto his armor. Rain… indoors? Another crack of lightning split the sky, and instantly revealed the issue to Kabei. Where once the ship had listed as it sunk, it now sat in two pieces, with Kabei able to see where the hallway was brutally crushed and separated from the other half of the ship. A second ship, similarly battered, sat in the middle of the wreckage, as if it had dropped out of the sky on top of the Lucky Le-Matoran.
Great Spirit, he thought, feeling through his damp pack for another lightstone. Holding it aloft, he squinted into the hall. The same direction many of the beings fleeing the ship had gone was now crushed entirely, with the ceiling having caved in on itself. Kabei hoped they had made it to safety. However, the bigger problem at the moment was his own survival.
He realized shortly that he was trapped. Before him lay a vicious gash in the ship that ran down to a raging sea. Behind him lay an impassable wall of wreckage. With nobody in sight to respond to his pleas for help, a deep sense of fear began to grip Kabei.
I'm a Po-Matoran! We don't swim, he thought, glancing over the edge of the gap, at the churning waters below. Frantically running back and forth between his cabin, and the steadily rising waters, Kabei looked for someone - anyone to save him. In the process, he nearly fell flat on his face, as he was tripped by a large floating object. Grunting in pain, he turned to inspect the item. It was the door to another cabin - knocked off of its hinges in the impact. Despite being a large piece of metal, it seemed to be buoyant enough to avoid sinking. Nervously, Kabei clambered aboard it.
Please hold my weight, I'm not very heavy, he prayed, hoping that the piece of metal could support him. Closing his eyes, he waited for the feeling of his arms and legs sinking into the water. To his surprise, it did not come. Opening a single eye, he was elated to see that, although the water lapped at his fingers, the door was holding him upright.
"Yes!" he shouted out of sheer joy. It was the exact chance he needed. Climbing off the door, Kabei ran down the hallway, pulling the slab of metal behind him. The waters, which were once a storey or more beneath his floor, had now risen until they were less than a bio below him. Throwing the door out of the hallway, Kabei jumped into the water after it, and kicked his legs furiously. The cold, tumultuous waves nearly drove the breath from his body, and he froze up for a second as he crashed through the surface. It was only the door that he clung to that prevented him from sinking straight into the deep. Like a Muaka in water, he thrashed about, throwing himself on top of the makeshift raft. Once again kicking his feet, he tried to make as much distance between himself and the wreckage, in case the current of water pulled him under.
For several minutes, Kabei paddled away from the ship, towards the nearest source of light that wasn't the inferno of ruptured fuel tanks ablaze. He could see the running lights of a nearby ship illuminating the night sky. Exhausting himself through the effort of paddling, he could finally see the dark hull of the Altruist Policies, and he could have wept with joy. Screaming out, Kabei yelled for help.
"Someone! Help me! Man overboard! I'm a survivor from the Le-Matoran! Help!"
He shouted for what felt like forever, waiting for someone to peer over the side of the ship, and lower a rope, or a raft, or a ladder. Instead, silence greeted him. The only sounds were the rain buffeting down upon him, and the howl of the wind. Sadness began to grip his heartlight. Why wasn't someone helping him? What had gone wrong?
Another crack of lightning filled the sky. As it did so, he could see the entire horizon light up. But this time, it was different. Something caught his eye - a black mass in the sky. A void, where there should be stars. Around the edges, the frays of something moving. Kabei squinted, rubbing water from his eyelights, trying to get a better look.
Trees. It was land - and it wasn't far away. Again, Kabei wanted to shout for joy. Kicking away from the ship, Kabei began paddling towards the landmass. As he moved, he could see several other beings - some floating on scraps of metal, others paddling as hard as they could, all heading in the same direction. He didn't care how long it took him, or if it drowned him in the process. Putting his feet back on dry land was worth the risk.
THE MONARCH - UNKNOWN
The Monarch cradled his head, which had been struck by the foot of a falling Matoran when the ship had crashed. At least, he assumed it had crashed - that, or someone had gotten cocky with a Nova Blast. Cracking open his eyes, he felt a wave of fear wash over him, as he lay on the ground face to face with a Vahki. Stumbling back out of self-preservation, he felt dizziness overtake him; a fact not helped by the rampant screaming of slaves around him. Fumbling away from the Vahki, he waited for the sting of it beating him with its staves, or the numbness of it using its powers. Instead, he was met with no sensation. The Vahki simply stared at him. Its eyelights were on, indicating it was functional, but it wasn't responding to him.
The Monarch would have pondered the mystery longer, were it not for the fact that he was sitting atop a pile of injured or dead, crushed by cargo containers. Where are my men? he thought, looking around. He could see a few of his cloaked guards emerging from the pile, and he recognized a Matoran or two from his new camp - including the leg of one Matoran. The rest of their body disappeared under a massive bulk container, which even an Ekedax would struggle to lift. Hmm, he thought, with no concern, turning his eyes away from the sight.
Instead, he turned his focus to a nearby porthole - one of only a half-dozen that lined the slave pen. Rushing over, he threw aside a Paxorak who was looking through it, and peered outwards. The weather outside was decidedly unlike that of the Metru Nui temperate climate he had last seen.
We must have made the Great Journey, alright… but this doesn't look like Metru Nui at all.
A bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and he could see the waves rocking another nearby ship as sheets of rain fell. Maybe the Four Sisters? he thought, remembering his sparse visits to a comrade's homeland (20). The region was often wracked by massive storms that bore a resemblance to the one raging outside.
It was at this moment that the Monarch heard the sound of metal striking metal. Fearing another crash, he instinctively covered his head, but felt no listing in the ship. Turning to the source of the noise, he could see a group of Paxorak jamming a Rahkshi staff into the side of the bulkhead between the slave pens and the rest of the ship. A flare of anger rose inside him.
"Idiots! After you break out, what do you plan on doing next? We're in the middle of the fleet and all you've got is a staff-" he shouted, but he was cut off by a large crash as the door finally fell off of its hinges, and landed flat on the floor. A cheer rose from the Paxorak, and the Monarch felt a jostle as several beings ran past him towards the opened door. A cry came from somewhere in the crowd - "Freedom!" - and Oropi began to storm through the ship. The Monarch could see his surviving guard begin to join the crowd, but he raised a hand to stop them, and sat on an overturned crate.
"We're not gonna fight our way out, boss?"
"Those morons will cut their way through the ship, but the second the guards see them, the bridge will be locked down - and then they'll be killed when reinforcements arrive. I will not have us escape captivity just to die a few moments later."
"But sir… they're looting the entire rest of the ship. They'll have guns and launchers soon. I'd rather not be shot."
"What do you propose we do then, cast in with them? Either they turn on us and steal all of our supplies, or we join them and get killed by the Makuta."
The Monarch sighed, and rubbed his temples. A few minutes in a new universe and things were already going wrong. He was distracted by the sound of movement - something was approaching. His guard suddenly stood at attention, as the Nuurakh approached them. However, it bore its weapons by its side, and did not seem to be marching with combative intent. The Monarch stood, and marched towards the Vahki.
The two stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and the Monarch waved at the machine. It slowly raised a staff, and waved back. The Ihidauri cocked a brow, and had an idea.
"Jump," he commanded. The Vahki's legs sank for a moment, before it sprang several bio into the air, and landed with a crash. A grin spread across his face.
"At attention!" he barked, and the Vahki dropped one foot to the rear, and thrust the other forward. Its staves came forward, shielding its body, and its eyes grew brighter. The Monarch looked around, snapping his fingers at the Ce-Matoran who had once lead his Matoran group.
"You there. Give me the Vahki's operating number."
The Ce-Matoran's eyes grew wide, and she looked nervously between her leader, and the robotic law enforcement unit that had likely terrorized her for years. The Monarch waved her towards the robot.
"Go. It won't hurt you," he said, unconcerned with whether he was telling the truth or not. The Matoran took a nervous step forwards, which the robot did not react to. Scurrying behind it, she glanced towards its head crest.
"It looks cracked - I think a box hit it during the crash!" she said, peering into the machine's skull. Interesting, thought the Monarch to himself.
"Got it!" she said, locating the small serial plate. "T08DK-C1.3"
"That's lengthy… what to call you…" The Monarch stroked his chin, looking at the clockwork machine before him.
"C1.3..."
The Monarch thought in silence for a second.
"Point Three. Step forward."
The Vahki took a single pace forward, and the Monarch laughed maliciously. My very own Vahki, he thought to himself. I'll be the king of the slave tracks now.
A sudden noise distracted the Monarch, who looked towards its source and saw the ruins of his camp. A Matoran was rifling through it, likely assuming the owner of the tents had joined the growing revolution occurring within the halls of the ship.
"Go get him," he ordered, and the Vahki suddenly broke into a sprint across the room. In a matter of seconds, it had cleared the distance to the Matoran, who looked up in a panic at the police robot barreling down upon him. The Vahki charged straight into the Matoran, delivering a backhand with a staff that threw the Matoran across the floor. The Monarch took several slow strides over to the Matoran, who lay on the floor dazed.
"Get away from my things," he told the Matoran, who returned to his feet like a zombie. The Matoran suddenly bolted away from the group, until it had reached the furthest corner from the room, at which point it promptly sat, idly glancing around the room. The Monarch smiled - it seemed that the failure of the Great Journey had delivered him an unexpected boon. Looking back towards the opened door, leading further into the bowels of the ship, he considered his options.
"There's another possibility…" he said out loud, taking a step towards it. He had had yet another brilliant idea, and he was cautiously optimistic about his chances to end up on top, as he had a knack for doing.
GORAST - UNKNOWN
Gorast felt that she was rising excellently to the challenges presenting themselves to her. Already, she had restored contact with any flagships that weren't critically damaged, and begun coordinating their movement. It was critical to have each ship, the moment it hit the water, begin evacuating the area - she had personally witnessed the sight of one stalled ship being bisected as another craft fell out of the sky on top of it. The result had been so devastating that she had not even bothered ordering search and rescue. And that was assuming she had the parties to spare - their hands were already full checking up on other ships. Meanwhile, Gorast stood on the bridge of Teridax's Will, listening to the first mate make a report.
"Total damages so far include thirty-two ships sunk entirely. Forty-seven are damaged to an evacuation-worthy degree. Of those, eighteen have made no comms contact since landing, and we may assume that they are going down with all hands. We also have twenty seven ships with unconfirmed reports of damage, but we believe they can remain seaworthy long enough-"
"That's fine, let them be. How many ships have we made contact with?"
"Eighty eight exactly, mistress, though there are reportedly more that are in decent condition. Ship number one hundred and seventy three, Kane-Ra's Horns, has just landed, suffering hull breaches on their bow, though they report that their pumps successfully activated, and they are draining water as we speak."
"And the other Makuta?"
"Generally unharmed, mistress. Antroz escaped the Dominion unscathed, though his ship has been deemed irrecoverable, and most of his crew is either in the water, or went down with the ship. No contact from Makuta Vamprah-" typical, Gorast thought, "-though Makuta Chirox and Icarax both report major losses."
"Major Losses?"
"Chirox reports that a tank of energized protodermis burst during the crash, and has been steadily draining into the sea. He requests assistance in securing the rest of his cargo."
"Belayed. His crew will handle that. And what of Icarax?"
"He reports that the observation spire aboard the Indomitable broke upon impact, and that he has lost the Kanohi Olmak-"
Anger flared through Gorast, and she immediately seized the first mate's throat in her claws.
"Lost it? He lost it? The Kanohi Olmak was the divine instrument of our lord and master, bestowed upon us such that we may achieve his will, and that blithering idiot lost it?"
The first mate pawed at his throat, trying to break Gorast's grip, as she fumed with rage. Her vision went red, and for a moment, she felt as if she were floating in a void. A second later, her eyesight returned, and she could see the first mate lying in a crumpled heap on the far corner of the bridge. She let out a scream of rage, pulling all eyes on the bridge towards her, though they quickly ducked to return to their work. Storming to the viewport, she looked out over the water, towards Icarax's ship. True enough, the observation tower above the bridge had blatantly taken a beating when it crashed into the water, and she could see the great glass dome at its head was completely shattered.
You fool, she thought, thinking of the pompous and arrogant Makuta aboard. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to quell the fire inside her chest. There would come a time to demand Icarax answer for his actions, but for now, there were more important things at stake. The fleet was still in complete disarray, and several ships were taking on water - they needed to make landfall, and fast. Looking out the window, she scanned the horizon.
"Navigator. Where is Metru Nui?" she demanded, as he ran up behind her.
"Ma'am, I've been having some difficulty finding that out for myself. I've taken multiple scans of the area - I would have a Ko-Matoran working on star charts at the moment if it weren't for the clouds - nothing. There's not a single familiar landmark to be seen."
She turned, raising a singular brow. The navigator quivered in terror, and cleared his throat.
"What I mean, ma'am, is that… It is possible that we have somehow arrived near a different island."
"Which one?" She spat.
"I'm not sure ma'am. One of the southern islands, I estimate, based on the vegitati-"
"Are there any settlements?"
"None that we can identify, ma'am."
"Begin moving the fleet towards the island. Direct all damaged ships to attempt to ground themselves in the shallows. Ships that can afford to drop life rafts along the way will do so."
The navigator interjected in a quiet voice.
"...Shouldn't we wait for orders from Makuta Icarax?"
Gorast's hand flew on its own, nearly striking the insolent whelp across the deck, before she returned it to her side. Perhaps he was right - the Lord of Shadows would want to be informed of the fleet's movement.
Nodding, she dismissed the navigator, and called for the comms officer - a Toa of Psionics, clad in an Oroha.
"Make contact with the Indomitable," she barked. The Ce-Toa nodded, before bowing her head. Suddenly, a vision of the bridge of the Steltian ship filled her head. She spoke clearly, in a commanding tone.
"Icarax. Show yourself."
After a few moments, the crimson-armored Makuta entered her mind's eye - the Ce-Toa aboard the destroyer bridging their minds. Icarax had already acquired a replacement for his lost Kanohi, now wearing the Mask of Scavenging that he had been known for beforehand.
"Gorast. I expect you have good reasons to summon me, when I am more than busy dealing with-"
"The fleet is badly damaged. I would rather we make landfall as quickly as possible, while there are still ships to land." Icarax thought for a moment, in silence.
"I imagine you have a suggestion?"
"My navigator has determined a nearby uninhabited island is of sufficient size and proximity that we may land the fleet there," she lied. In truth, she had no idea if the island was big enough - but it was better than floating dead in the water, waiting to sink.
"What island?"
"We cannot say. Likely one of the southern isles," she said, though with a hint of concern in her voice. The island did not look familiar, and she had conquered the southern islands several times already.
"Are the running lights aboard your ship still active?" Icarax questioned.
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes, my lord," she corrected. The phrase felt like poison on her tongue - she hated treating the brutish oaf with the same reverence she deferred for Teridax.
"Signal for the fleet to follow behind you. As soon as possible, get the Long Patrol airborne, I want Atureas in the air telling me where we are within an hour. Cease transmission."
The image within Gorast's mind went foggy, and, like waking from a gripping dream, she slowly returned to reality. She turned to address her crew.
"Everyone! We're heading to the island, have the running lights signal for the fleet to join us, I want us at maximum visibility. Station lookouts on the conn tower, I refuse to have us strike rocks. Comms, get a message out to any troop carriers, tell them to get any Long Patrol members who aren't injured in the air, and scouting the island as quickly as possible. Tell them we are going in quietly - do not engage the enemy. I repeat, we are making landfall quickly and quietly."
The bridge flurried to life, with various members running around to do their jobs. Gorast sighed, looking towards the remains of the first mate.
"Someone throw that overboard," she said to nobody in particular.