Chapter 18 - The World Scourge
ANTROZ - ABOARD THE INDOMITABLE
Antroz and Chirox departed, as they had many times before, from their meeting with Icarax, heading back to their fleets, both of which hovered just off the Primitives' shores. Ever since the explosion, they had been giving the enemy a wide berth. Their walk took place in absolute silence. It was not that the two disliked each other in any particular capacity, but Antroz could not help but suspect that his associate was somewhat lacking in personality; once he had finished detailing his designs for a new ugly, ferocious, and disgusting Rahi, Chirox often had little of value to talk about - and Rahi interested Antroz little.
The silence was broken as the two stepped out onto the deck of the Indomitable.
"Antroz, Brother… I've been meaning to ask you something," said Chirox, idly.
Antroz cocked a brow. He was prepared for either a stupid question or a stupid comment.
"Proceed," Antroz said coolly.
"Recent discussions with Icarax have provided me with some interesting ideas. I thought them perhaps to be inappropriate to raise at the time, considering it would require me to transport some physical specimens and draw attention to recent military failures, but…"
Antroz sighed.
"If you could get to the point?"
Chirox glared at him.
"If you could join me, I have some projects aboard my ship to show you."
A haze of shadow surrounded Chirox, and with a flash of blackness, he vanished, not waiting for Antroz's response. The red-armored Makuta prepared to call after the black-armored Makuta, but considering he would be talking to the empty air, he elected to simply suffer in silence and activate his teleportation powers as well.
In a blink, Antroz arrived aboard the Stealer of Life, Chirox's flagship. Unlike most of the Makuta's personal vessels, the ship was not intended as a military vessel. It had originally been a cruiser, which after coming into Chirox's possession, had been up-armored and up-gunned to meet with the standards of the rest of the Brotherhood. Nonetheless, it was the least dangerous of any of the Makuta's flagships, as much of the hull of the vessel was occupied not by turrets and armor, but rather extensive laboratories and cargo bays full of various types of protodermis - including some of the energized variety - which Chirox used for his own nefarious purposes.
Arriving on the deck, the crew snapped salutes at the two Makuta. Antroz returned the gesture, while Chirox beckoned him towards a bulkhead leading below deck. The two stepped through into the dim hallways of the interior of the ship. The area was pristine and spotless, and had once been sterile and white, though it seemed that a buildup of grime and mysterious fluids had tinted some spots with a maroon coloration. Antroz wondered if it was blood, but considered the identity of the ship's owner and recognized that blood was likely the least worrisome of the spilled fluids that could be found on the floors. As they walked through it, Chirox explained further.
"As you likely know, Icarax has assigned me to both study the natural qualities of this universe, and to produce self-replicating workers. Results on the first project are still pending, but with regards to the second, I've had some major breakthroughs."
"Such as?"
The two arrived at a sealed door with a Kumopak guard. The guard nodded, opening the door for them. Stepping through, the two entered into another room, this one divided in half by a transparent barrier. On one side there sat a large vat of purified liquid protodermis, along with massive shelves of viruses, stabilized in basic powders. Several Matoran wearing respirators and goggles mixed the powders with great care, while some in the corner of the room were unboxing a package of pre-processed food. On the other side, behind the barrier, two creatures that Antroz was well acquainted with shrieked at each other, hissing and spitting.
"Behold, the fruits of my labor," said Chirox, gesturing to the Rahi.
Antroz stepped towards the glass, dull-eyed. The Rahi barely reacted to him.
"Brother, these are…not particularly impressive. We have both seen these before. Many times. I don't think Icarax will be satisfied by -"
"Look closer, Brother. What do you notice about them?"
Antroz squinted, examining the creatures. Neither had any notably different visual features to any other specimens of their species. As far as he could tell, they were completely normal.
"What am I supposed to be seeing?" asked Antroz after a moment. He was tired of the games Chirox was playing.
"Do you see any difference between the two?"
"No."
"Exactly."
Chirox gestured towards the three Matoran with the crate of food, and pointed towards the enclosure. They approached nervously, two fetching long metal rods with wire hoops at their ends. Carefully, they threaded the rods through holes in the barrier, attempting to snag them on the mandibles of one of the creatures. It reacted violently, shrieking at the Matoran, sending them a step backwards out of fright. Chirox took a step forward and raised a palm against the glass. Although Antroz could not tell for sure, he suspected that Chirox was using Rahi Control to quell the beast's rage. The Matoran rushed back to their poles, holding the monster in position, and keeping its mandibles forced open.
Nervously, the last Matoran, carrying several armfuls of food, approached a latched gate in the barrier and undid the lock. The other, unrestrained creature hissed at them, but remained tucked in the corner, wanting to be no part of the strange process being performed.
The Matoran with the food thrust it into the cage and slammed the gate shut as quickly as possible, latching it and retreating several bio to safety. As the handlers with the poles loosened their grip on the Rahi, it tore forward, eagerly devouring the food. Antroz watched with disinterest, before he could see the creature begin to shake and shudder.
"Observe," said Chirox, calmly.
Antroz saw the creature's carapace begin to bubble and warp, before a leg burst out of it. Then another joined it. The creature shrieked as, inch by inch, an entirely new Rahi began to crawl out of its body. Antroz's disinterest turned to fascination as he watched the exhausted beast pant, either through pain or sheer tiredness. Meanwhile, covered in a strange slime, shuddering and jittering, a second creature joined it. His eyes drifted over the Rahi, which spasmed on the floor of the cell, before one of its legs stabbed into the ground, then another, and a third. In moments, it had found stable footing, and began to lift itself off of the tiled floor. It stared angrily with yellow eyes before raising its head to the sky and shrieking loudly.
It was a perfect copy of the creature that had spawned it. Antroz looked towards the cage, and immediately realized that all three creatures were exactly identical. A chill ran down his spine.
You did it…you crazy smelt-head, you did it. You made something that should never exist.
"There are some issues to resolve," said Chirox, idly, taking notes on a tablet that one Matoran had passed him. "As you can see, the process is both drawn out, painful, and tiring. Additionally, there is no transference of memory between the two - subject R03 will not have any memories from subject R02 -" he said, nodding towards the creature that had recently birthed a clone of itself. "- and so they will have to be taught everything from scratch. This may be an issue for Oropi, particularly manual laborers and soldiers, who will need to undergo training. But, nonetheless, what do you think? Does it impress you?"
Antroz was speechless.
"Your silence speaks volumes. I assure you, I remain the Brotherhood's head of research for reasons like this," Chirox continued, marveling at his creations.
"And you said this was related to the recent incident on the mainland?"
"Yes. See, the process of duplication is triggered by material consumption - essentially, a portion of the mass they consume is set aside and converted into energy. This energy is then shaped into a…well, I suppose it's not important. The critical issue is that food triggers the duplication. We among the Brotherhood, are low on food, but the enemy is not. Additionally, we require expendable foot soldiers. I propose we solve both problems at once."
Antroz considered Chirox's proposal. It was an interesting one, and not without merit.
"I suppose. Though I do wonder if there will not be tactical issues - Rahi are not as intelligent or coordinated as Oropi. We may lose a great deal of efficiency in the task, and they will be difficult to control as well. If they prioritize food over our orders -"
"Why would they? They are loyal to us. I see no reason why, if we apply a steady supply of food to them, that they should not act on our will alone."
"Be that as it may, warfare requires both the scalpel and the sword in equal quantities. To invade with an army of these is the sword."
"Indeed, and I shall leave the scalpel to you. But let us not forget that until further notice, I am in command of our work."
Antroz glanced nervously at the third Rahi. He wondered if perhaps Chirox wasn't making a mistake - but even worse, he doubted Chirox would listen even if he was.
"You are correct, Brother. I…will concede that this effort is worth testing, though I advise moderation."
"We do not win wars in moderation, Brother. It is inconceivable that my plan should fail, and so I will press forward with it. When I unveil our success to Icarax, you can share the credit, or take none of it. What will you choose?"
Antroz deliberated. Chirox was proposing something new, and dangerous. If it went wrong, there would be consequences. But if it went right, it would be the opportunity to reclaim his recently-lost status among the Makuta.
"Your theory is sound, Brother. May your work go well, and the mainland fall quickly."
"Oh, it will," said Chirox, with a sadistic glee, likely remembering dismemberments and deaths of long since past. "The Visorak have always worked swiftly."
UZOK - TARGET MAIN
Uzok blinked his eyes open. Immediate searing pain made him regret that decision. With a cry, he immediately covered them with his hand, though he could feel wrapped bandages covering one. Every part of his body ached and burned, and he could feel one of his arms was outright broken in more than one place.
Gritting his teeth, he pulled his still-functional arm up to his face and clawed at the bandage, ripping it off layer by layer. Like a Rahi emerging from a stasis tank, he could feel the touch of air on his face for the first time in too long.
With one final effort, the bandage came free, and Uzok again attempted to open his eyes. Prepared for the glare of light, he managed to wince and blink his way through the pain.
He was in some sort of white room, as far as he could tell, and laying in a bed. Looking around, he could see bandages soaking in a particularly pungent smelling Amana-salve bath next to his bed, and a curtain separating him from the rest of the area. Oh. A hospital, he thought to himself. He suddenly felt the room roll ever so slightly to one side. A medical ship, then.
Attempting to call for a doctor, he felt a sharp pain in his jaw, which stifled his words. He touched it - and suddenly remembered feeling the sensation of a chunk of shrapnel tearing off half of it. Somehow, it was fine, pain notwithstanding. Then he remembered the explosion.
Uzok's eyes widened as he looked around the area. His team - where were they?
"Doctor!" he called again, fighting against the pain.
There was a scuffling of feet on the far side of the curtain before it was drawn back by a Vokaru (31) wearing a Kanohi Amana.
"Oh, good, you're awake; how are you-" began the doctor, but Uzok was in no mood for small talk.
"My team, where's my team? Five Skakdi, probably similar injuries to mine -"
The doctor thought for a moment.
"Fire, Air, Water, Earth, yadda yadda? They're fine - for the most part. A few injuries, but at least two of them were able to drag you all to safety and get help. One wasn't so lucky though. Big guy, Earth. He's alive, yes, but…"
"Take me to him."
"I…wouldn't recommend it now. Right now you should stay in bed, get some rest. Your body is still healing - I'll take you to him later, yes?."
Uzok tried to roll out of bed, but a sharp pain in his leg disagreed with his course of action, and made said disagreement quite vocal.
"Fine," said Uzok, grimacing as he returned to his previous position. He stared at the ceiling angrily before realizing that something was wrong. He blinked his right eye several times, trying to see if his vision changed.
"I can't see out of my right eye," he said, after a moment.
The doctor grimaced, and Uzok felt a sinking feeling in his gut.
"Your team is waiting, though, if you'd like me to send them in, yes?" the Vokaru asked, trying to change the subject.
Uzok nodded affirmatively, though he remained silent. He needed to see them for himself. As much as he still could see.
Four of the Skakdi Warbirds stood before Uzok, each with at least one visible injury. Moke was walking with a crutch, as one of his legs was broken. Korenn and Hakis were both wrapped in bandages, while the latter of the two was sporting several bruises to the torso. Sokul was the least harmed, but still was covered in scratches that were still healing. All of them looked absolutely broken, with pitted armor and slumped shoulders. Not only had their bodies been hurt, but their minds as well.
The group was dead silent - they had not made any noise as they joined Uzok in his partitioned section of the hospital.
"What happened?" asked Uzok, breaking the ice.
"The enemy appeared to hit us with some sort of large explosion via airborne vector. Damage was extensive - they're still handling the casualties now. There's rumors that the Brotherhood is just going to melt down and reforge all the weapons and armor," said Moke.
"Sokul and I were the least hurt," said Hakis. "He wanted us to bring you back to safety and call for a retreat."
Uzok flared his nose.
"Normally I would beat you for retreating from a mission, but…continue. How's it going on land?'"
"Don't know," replied Hakis.
"And Akres? The doctor didn't say-"
"He survived the blast. But his body power…" began Korenn uncomfortably.
"Maybe you'd like to see for yourself?" asked Sokul. Uzok glared at him with his remaining good eye. Sokul immediately realized his mistake.
"My sincerest apologies, I did not -"
"Help me out of bed, damn you."
Korenn and Moke rushed to Uzok's side and helped roll him out of the bed. Fighting to stay upright, he hung on their shoulders limply, and the two dragged him out of the curtained area and into the main hospital room.
Uzok was dumbfounded, seeing the amount of beings either still badly wounded or recovering from their injuries. Curtained areas were a small luxury afforded to those still recovering, but for the patients in need of treatment still, there were beds upon beds lining the walls, and many beings forced to sit on the floor. The area smelled like blood. It made Uzok feel weak in the knees, though he wondered if that wasn't just the general condition of his body that he was feeling.
Pushing aside a curtain, the group entered Akres' recovery room. The Earth Skakdi was laying in bed, unresponsive and wrapped in a thick layer of bandages. The portions of his body that Uzok could see were all heavily scarred and pitted. His entire head was covered in a thick layer of bandages, with a tube fed through the layers to provide air.
"It's his body power. He tried to heal you," said Hakis.
"He absorbed a lot of the damage. Your skull was damn well split open."
"But everything he took from you, he put on himself, and…" murmured Korenn.
Uzok winced, imagining the Skakdi of Earth voluntarily subjecting himself to the same torment he had gone through. He did not envy the being - though something in his heart twinged. Respect? The Skakdi had saved his life.
Uzok sighed as he watched the comatose Skakdi lay before him. He tried to look elsewhere, and his eyes fell on Hakis, slumping against the wall. He was still caked in grime and dirt, and it was hard to find a piece of armor on his body that wasn't damaged in some way, shape, or form.
"You lot - I leave you alone for…how long was I out?"
"Two days, sir," replied Moke, quickly and pointedly.
"Two days, and you all start going to Karzahni. Look at your armor - clean yourselves up! I swear to Teridax, if I'd have showed up before Koltari looking like this, he'd have cut my damn throat! And you thought I'd let this sort of behavior stand?"
The Warbirds all reacted with a combination of shame, confusion, and anger.
"Sir, we were bombed -" began Sokul, his facade of cheerfulness breaking.
"So was I! But I was unconscious for two days. What's your excuse?"
Uzok pointed towards Hakis, who immediately stood to attention. Uzok scoffed as he pointed out various infractions.
"Dirt. Mud. I don't even know what that is. That piece of armor is worthless - have you even checked your equipment recently? You spine slug -"
"Sir, I think that's -"
"I did not ask for you to interrupt me, Hakis!"
The Skakdi of Fire's eyes flared, and he took a step forward towards Uzok. Uzok sneered, preparing to raise his fists in defense. He didn't care if it killed him, he would restore the team's morale by any means necessary.
The two were suddenly broken up by the presence of the doctor, who seemed particularly lively and energetic.
"None of that, none of that, let's settle down, yes? Calm, please?"
There was a moment of silence, before Hakis returned to his prior position. Uzok glared, as Hakis spat onto the floor.
"Get me back to my room. And bring Akres's bed into it as well." Uzok said to the doctor. Space was at a premium, and he wanted Akres close by. For what reason, he couldn't say, but it didn't feel right leaving him alone like he currently was.
Returning to his recovery room, Uzok collapsed back onto his bed while the Warbirds stood at ease around him. The doctor, returning, carefully applied the Amana-salve-soaked bandages to Uzok's wounds, though he left his face uncovered at his request. Meanwhile, two Matoran orderlies wheeled Akres's bed into the room with him. It made the space somewhat cramped, with two beds, five Skakdi, and a doctor, but Uzok did not care about the space requirements at the time. In fact, even if he were to pay attention, it would not have bothered him - a life at sea had made him accustomed to small living quarters.
Nonetheless, Uzok's mind did not dwell on the condition of the room. Instead, he thought about the blast. He remembered every detail, bit by bit, replaying it in his mind. Each time, he stopped to think about Sokul and his warning. How had the Skakdi known what was coming? And with the Ihidauri snipers as well, on the bridge - what did he know that Uzok didn't?
Something's wrong with him, Uzok thought, glancing towards the white-armored Skakdi with his one good eye. Although Sokul always had a jovial and friendly smile plastered on his face, Uzok suddenly felt very cold looking at him.
He was distracted by the doctor, however, who finished applying his bandages.
"Now, please don't tear those off, alright? Let them soak into your armor for a few hours. I'll be back to remove them for you."
Uzok nodded, and the doctor left the room, leaving just the six Skakdi.
Raising his chin and taking a deep breath, Uzok spoke.
"I'm alive because you all carried me to safety, in a situation we had never encountered before. You all performed…respectably, in combat. Despite your inability to maintain the standards you know I expect, you're not the worst troops I've ever had the displeasure of serving with. When I'm out of the hospital, I'll get the armorers to equip you more appropriately."
A quiet excitement filled the Warbirds, and Uzok smiled internally. Skakdi always loved new toys.
"Dismissed. All of you. Except Korenn. I need to speak with you alone."
The group glanced towards Korenn, wondering if perhaps she had not landed herself in trouble, though Uzok was pleased to see that she was utterly confident and stalwart. The rest of the team shuffled around her awkwardly, leaving the two alone together.
"What do you need, sir?" She asked dutifully, staring straight forward into space and not meeting Uzok's eye.
"You're a newcomer to the Warbirds. You joined us on the beach, at Target Main, day one."
"I did, sir."
"How has your experience been, thus far?"
Korenn turned to look Uzok straight in the face.
"Please make your point, sir."
Uzok smirked. Korenn was not the type to mince words or waste time, it seemed.
"Sokul. You met him in the crash?"
"I did."
"Did you find him, or did he find you?"
"He found me. We used my control of Water to get to the shore."
"What was your position beforehand? In the Brotherhood's ranks?"
"1st Zakaz Natives chain. Called ourselves the Tourists. Though, as part of the 65th Lance, they had no objections to turning me over to the Honor Guard -"
"Had you ever seen him in the 65th?"
Korenn thought for a moment.
"No, sir."
Uzok sighed. Something was very wrong with Sokul's story.
"Will that be all, sir?" she asked. Uzok nodded lazily, and gestured towards the curtain. With a salute, she turned and left, and Uzok was once again alone, with only the sleeping Akres to keep him company.
"What do you think," murmured Uzok, looking towards his savior. "Do you trust him?"
There was no response.
GORAST - THE WEST PACIFIC
Gorast was once proud to stand by Teridax's side. She had served as his dutiful agent, and executed every aspect of his Plan exactly as he ordered. It had been nearly seventy-thousand years of careful operations, subversions, and maneuvers that had built towards the final battle in Karda Nui. And as the most loyal, skilled, and capable of Teridax's followers, she had naturally learned a great many things from watching him.
First and foremost was the capacity to make plans, unseen and unheard, and execute them without anyone being aware of them. If such plans were to be noticed, it would only be under the condition that they were intended to be noticed, and that the planner was prepared to act around the reactions of their pawns.
Gorast glared angrily out the bridge's viewscreen as she dwelled on a long history of schemes, both hers and her master's. She had never been a particularly tremendous supporter of Icarax. In fact, she often hated him for his ineffective and underwhelming plans. He knew nothing of the masterwork of Teridax's genius - he was a pale shadow on a wall, while Teridax was a Po-Metru sculpture.
But right now she was particularly annoyed with Icarax because the damn idiot had not even thought to change her assignment. The Brotherhood's members were in obvious need of repositioning, and she had been so careful in getting Bitil to do exactly what she wanted, and yet somehow she found herself exactly where she was the day prior - stranded in the middle of nowhere, protecting idiot Matoran and their stupid city, while other Makuta - lesser Makuta - got to enact Teridax's will.
Her mind raced as she tried to think of a new way to get what she wanted; the blood of heretics and scum drenching her armor. She thought back on Vamprah's various intelligence briefings, as he discussed the greatest military powers in the area. She tried to recall the results of her Long Patrol teams's scouting missions. If she was correct, the mainland that had recently been the subject of such controversy was not the only relevant power in the region.
"Captain," she said, breaking the silence that had settled around her. She liked to keep her crew on edge - the less likely they were to distract her, the more likely they were to survive.
"Yes, ma'am?" replied the captain instantly.
"Set a course to the Northwest. Send a signal to Chirox that we're investigating…thermal blooms on the heat scope as possible enemy ships."
"Ma'am, there were no such -"
In the time it took for Gorast to turn her head to stare at the offending Captain, he had immediately changed his tone.
"Of course, ma'am."
The order was given. Gorast would prove to Icarax he had a better use for her than this pathetic assignment.
Gorast had been only three hours at sea before there was a sudden flash of darkness aboard the bridge. She turned, expecting to see Chirox, or perhaps Icarax at worst, but instead she was met with a distinctly blue-armored being.
"Vamprah. What do you want?" Gorast said, unexcited to see Icarax's loyal Energy Hound sniffing around her ship.
"You are moving your fleet. Contrary to Icarax's orders," Vamprah said, matter-of-factly, transmitting the thought straight into Gorast's mind.
"I am ensuring the defense of Krika's current project. There are sufficient enemy forces in nearby regions that an offensive action functions as a much more effective defense than idly waiting. Every second I spend floating offshore is a second they get to prepare."
"A reasonable assessment. Perhaps Icarax will see it that way. Perhaps he will not."
"Icarax does not need to see it at all."
"He will, or will not, by my decision."
Gorast felt her eye twitch. She felt the claws on her second set of arms sharpen.
"Are you having fun speaking in riddles, Vamprah? Perhaps I should give you one of my own. You can either work with me or be an obstacle in this matter. You're quite intelligent - it shouldn't be hard for you to deduce my meaning."
The two stared in silence in an uneasy standoff.
"I do not wish to hamper your offensive maneuver. However…if I may propose some alterations?"
"Alterations?" Gorast replied incredulously. She did not like Vamprah's tone - he was probably about to propose something far less vicious than what she had in mind.
"Not every island on this planet is sympathetic to its neighbors. Some are very far from it."
"And?"
"Perhaps we could use this to our advantage."