The Fairon Chronicles

The Fairon Chronicles is a novel in the Gigas Magna storyline. It is set mostly in the Matoran universe, and tells of the battles between the Order of Mata Nui and Order of Darkness during the First Order of Darkness War. It mostly focuses on Fairon, a rising star in the Order of Mata Nui, and his adventures with his companions while attempting to rescue the Great Being Brominax.

Synopsis
The story has not yet been written. However, a plot summary has been laid out; note that all the material in the summary is considered a spoiler.

33 chapters have been confirmed, not including a prologue and epilogue. Like several other stories in the Gigas Magna storyline, such as Nightfall, it takes place over the course of seven days.

Prologue
The world was spinning. The void around him, purple and black swirls of paint being mixed together by some sort of cosmic brush, was turning end over end in a way that made his stomach churn. Flamu had never liked the feel of teleportation; it was as though he were lost in one of the purple nebulae he had heard one could see through the telescope on the island of Mata Nui. And the pressure, slightly above what he was used to in normal gravity, wasn't enjoyable either.

He tried to right himself, but how can one right oneself in empty space? There were no reference points, or not here, at any rate. The spinning was not slowing. Did this always happen, or was it just him? He began to consider how it would seem if he vomited after arriving in Robotopolis, in front of Velnax and his minions. Certainly, that wouldn't be good for the mission.

The mission. He must focus on the mission, and therefore he must keep himself from vomiting.

How long had he been here? It seemed like hours could have passed, but it could just as easily have been a few seconds. He had had no idea how right his superiors were when they told him it was disconcerting.

The world around him seemed to be spinning faster, the pressure on him increasing until he felt like his chest was being crushed. Flamu's figure was being thrown about like a ragdoll, and the colors started to get thrown together into an uncomfortable black...

It stopped. Flamu took in a deep breath, taking pleasure in the air and light that surrounded him much more. He collapsed on the metal floor, his lungs heaving for some time, until he realized he was not alone.

“Toa Flamu,” sneered a serpentine voice from somewhere in front of him. “It's about time. Now get up.”

His vision focused, allowing him to look up. What he saw was a pair of legs covered with a thick red armor, with feet bearing three sharp talons. Immediately, he stood, focusing his attention on the task at hand while he quickly scanned the room.

The Robotopolis control room was very much like he had anticipated. A row of control panels were positioned on the wall in a semicircle, in front of which busy technicians were sitting, doing the best to ignore the scene that was ensuing. A domed ceiling towered over him, through which could be seen an array of stars. This momentarily confused Flamu, as the control room was at the center of the city, far beneath the upper levels, but then he realized that it was a display, nothing more.

Stationed at the center of the room, directly in front of him, was a throne of a silver metal that reflected the harsh, unnatural light from above to the point that it was almost blinding. To the sides were two pairs of guards standing rigidly at attention—male Vortixx, of course; most of the major organizations had predominantly employed these as guards since the fall of the League of Six Kingdoms. A black-armored Makuta, tall and lean, stood by it as well, positioned to the left of the being in the chair.

“Velnax,” said Flamu coolly. “I assume you know the purpose of my arrival.”

A small smile formed through Makuta Velnax's Kanohi Psikon. He reclined in the throne, appearing casual but not taking his eyes off of Flamu for a second. He peered at him in a tight gaze that somehow made Flamu feel as if he were being inspected by a curious Rahi.

“Going right to business, I see,” the Makuta said. The muscular figure did not move the slightest in his thick red and black armor. It was obvious now that he was analyzing him and his intentions, ascertaining his motives. The unflickering green eyes set deep in that almost expressionless face were studying Flamu, and it disturbed him. “Suppose, for the moment, that I have forgotten, Negotiator, and that I require information. That is what they call you, is it not?”

“Yes.” Flamu was as careful as he had ever been when dealing with enemies. Even had he not researched Velnax as much as possible before the mission, he would already have deduced Velnax's nature: Slippery and powerful. Someone to watch out for. “My message is simple: turn over your hostages or we will strike at Robotopolis with all force necessary.”

“Hostages?” said Velnax, peering at Flamu with an air of smug indifference. “What hostages?”

“You know very well what hostages. You are to turn over the Order of Mata Nui operatives Brominax and Shayla immediately.”

“Order of Mata Nui?” Velnax frowned. “I must say, I thought you'd be less open about your true affiliations. Doesn't the Order make a point of remaining secretive?”

“You clearly seem to know enough about us,” Flamu replied. He remained as expressionless as he could, a quality had quickly acquired even after only a few missions of peace. “We would be very interested as to how—after you return our operatives to us.”

“You're very persistent, Flamu,” said Velnax, clasping his armored-glove-covered hands together as he smiled slightly at the Toa. “Flamu, rookie Toa of Fire, nicknamed “the Negotiator.” Level Two clearance. Six missions, six successful. Currently stationed in Robotopolis. Authorization code,” he continued, and Flamu blinked in astonishment, “2918651242. So, yes, we know many things about your Order. We are fully prepared for you should you unwisely choose to invade Robotopolis. Our weapons are superior to yours—” he indicated the plasma cannons in his guards' hands. “—and while my forces may not all be as well-trained as yours, we are rather more numerous. Now, Kutrax, relieve the Toa of his comlink. No doubt, it is set to record a sound file and transmit it in real time back to Daxia. I want to talk to his superiors personally, if you please.”

The Makuta standing next to Velnax began to move towards Flamu. He involuntarily stepped backwards, but did not lower his attention from Velnax.

“You are not talking to anyone except for me.”

“The decision is not yours to make."

“As you're likely well aware from reading my file, negotiating isn't all I'm good at.”

“Of course. But do you think I'm actually incompetent enough to surround myself with guards who can't adequately defend me?” He motioned for Kutrax to stop his advance. “You have never been in a serious battle before. My guards, on the other hand, I personally picked from the best of the Brotherhood of Makuta's troops some time before we defected from them. The odds do not look good for you.”

Flamu had to admit that Velnax was right, but he was not prepared to show it. “Is this a threat?”

“Not yet. Very well, you may keep your transmitter. Settle down so you can finish threatening me.”

Flamu had to consciously keep himself from swallowing nervously. Kutrax stepped back into his position, glaring at the Toa, but Flamu ignored him. It was hard enough focusing on his duty as it was. “The two Order of Darkness hostages will be released from confinement immediately and taken to a neutral location—to be agreed upon by both parties—under minimal guard. From there, they will be given back to a group of Order of Mata Nui operatives, who will then return them to Daxia.”

Velnax laughed. “And what do we get I return?”

“It depends.”

The Makuta nodded. “At least you're not stupid. Well, then: I need the Order of Mata Nui to give me the Keeper of the Elder Prophecies. That is the only condition I will accept.”

“I do not know of such a being as the Keeper of the Elder Prophecies,” said Flamu. Doubt, however, had begun to flicker into life within his head. Of course there were some things he hadn't been allowed to know; he only had a Level Two clearance, after all. It was not only possible but absolutely certain that the Order ruling council would be keeping secrets from him.

“There quite definitely is,” said Velnax. “I've met him. Now, all I need is for your superiors to get this message, which they are at this very moment through the listening equipment they cunningly employed to eavesdrop on me. You don't have to consider an offer you don't understand anything about.”

“Then explain,” Flamu answered. He was beginning to get the feeling that something was going horribly wrong with this meeting, and it wasn't hard to detect why.

“He is in possession of some of the most closely-guarded secrets of the universe's workings,” Velnax answered. “He used to aid us intermittently, but we had a bit of what you may call a falling out. He believes that he and I pursue different goals, when they are in reality one and the same. We would like the Order of Mata Nui's cooperation in searching for him. He can be rather... difficult when it comes to evading pursuit.”

“What do you want with him?”

“It is none of your business.” Velnax's gaze seemed to intensify, as if he knew what was coming next. Flamu began to tense as he spoke again.

“And suppose we should not choose to hand this being over to you?”

“Then we shall find him ourselves,” said Velnax, “with no help from the Order of Mata Nui. And Brominax will die.”

Flamu took a deep breath. Velnax was not going to like what was coming next. “If you should choose to execute the hostages, this will be seen as an act of war. The Order of Darkness shall officially be viewed as a hostile faction and full military action will be taken against you.”

“And how do you think that that military action will go?” Velnax sneered. He was staring at the Toa of Fire in mockery. “As you know very well, we have access to all of your information. We could sabotage any and every part of your plan, throw your troops into chaos. We could even,” and with that he leaned forward and looked straight into Flamu's eyes, “reveal your existence to the Matoran world. What would you do then?”

“We will do, as we have always done, whatever necessary.” Flamu gazed back, his face tightened into a grimace. He was losing control of this meeting, and both of them knew it.

One of the Matoran at the control panel glanced backwards to face Velnax. Even from some distance, Flamu could see that he was suppressing fear as he spoke. Fear of Velnax, no doubt. “Sir? We have a message being relayed from Daxia to the Toa's transmitter.” He immediately turned around to focus on the control panel.

“Excellent,” said Velnax in a low growl. “Now, Toa, relay us your message. Don't worry, I'm not going to stop you.” Flamu reached down to his hip to take the comm out of its container, deciding that it would be best to take his eyes off of Velnax for a moment. It was a circular metal device that could easily fit in the palm of his hand, with a small screen that relayed data.

Right now, the screen said:


 * DO NOT AGREE. HE MUST NOT HAVE THE KEEPER. PREPARE FOR STRIKE TEAM'S ARRIVAL.

So there was to be a strike team teleported in? Perhaps it wasn't necessary yet. There could still be time to salvage the situation.

Slowly and deliberately, Flamu put the comlink away. He then stood back up to face Velnax. “The decision has been made. We will not agree to your terms.”

“Ah.” Velnax's facial expression didn't change in the slightest. “I was expecting that. What a pity. We could have had such a prosperous future together.”

“So this is war, then?” said Flamu. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Kill you? Certainly not,” said Velnax. “The war hasn't started yet. Unless you're planning to make a move right now.” Suddenly, Flamu realized that the situation had not only gone out of control, but was starting to get dangerous. He knew what Velnax was going to say seconds before he actually did.

“Unless, of course,” he continued, “there happens to be a strike team on the way right now. The war has officially begun for the Order of Darkness, and you are going to become our first prisoner of war. Though surely not our last.”

Before Flamu could worry about how he had known this, the five guards—the four Vortixx and Makuta Kutrax—sprang into battle position. The Vortixx trained their weapons at their target, and Kutrax raised his spear. He didn't need to be a Toa of Aura to feel the Makuta's powers charging.

“Come quietly,” Velnax finished, “or this may become a little messy.”

Flamu blinked. He raised his arms in surrender and took a step back. The guards began to approach him—

And then a wall of flame came into existence between him and his foes. The Vortixx immediately fired, a compacted ball of superheated plasma shooting at incredible speeds towards him. Flamu was prepared for it, and as the plasma penetrated his wall, he ducked, letting it slip through the air above him. Of course, being the soldiers that they were, they had kept firing, but causing the weapons to heat up so that the guards would drop them was an old trick, and a sudden fireball knocked them back a few steps and disposed of their dropped arms.

But then there was also Makuta Kutrax, and he could not be dealt with so easily. With a hiss, he sprang forward through the fireball without hesitation. Flamu reacted, rolling backwards and launching more fireballs from his hands. But Kutrax had fire resistance powers, and had had thousands of years to practice them, whereas Flamu was just a novice Toa.

The strike team was arriving soon. If he could only hold the Makuta off for a few more seconds...

He reached for his staff and eased into a sparring stance, managing to do so quickly enough to block Kutrax's precision strike that would have sent his head rolling around on the floor. However, he had been unable to maintain proper technique; his combat form of Lihtne had failed him, and he had been sent stumbling backwards. Kutrax struck again, this time sweeping up from below, but Flamu was ready this time and pushed the blade to the side, leaving Kutrax wide open for a well-aimed kick.

“Oh, and Flamu,” said Velnax's voice from the other side of the crackling flames with a note of distinct glee, “your strike team won't be arriving soon. They've been... ah... redirected. You're all alone here. How long do you think you'll last?”

The message distracted him long enough so that he forgot to kick Kutrax, and was only barely able to duck away from his weapon as he swung it back across the length of Flamu's body. Deciding that he wouldn't last very long at all if he continued to play at defense, he used his powerful legs to leap high in the air and cleave down with his staff. Kutrax, acting on reflex, unwisely decided to block it. Flamu smashed his foe's weapon downwards in the direction of the ground, then launched a fiery blast of energy from the other hand, which went directly into Kutrax's eyes. It could not harm the Makuta too severely, of course, but nonetheless he fell backwards screaming until a solid kick silenced him.

There was an eerie moment of near-silence, punctuated only by the crackling of the flames noise the Matoran made at their control panels, monitoring the altitude controls of the floating city and such. Flamu was surprised at how they could still keep working, what with the fight raging in the center of the room.

Then Velnax stood and began to clap. “Well done, Flamu. I obviously underestimated you.”

“I'm in no mood for compliments,” he growled. He raised his weapon and pointed it at the Makuta; a futile gesture, he knew, since he was standing several bio away across the room. “You're at my mercy now.”

Velnax snorted aloud. “Do you honestly believe that? I am fully capable of killing you, now or whenever else I should choose. And not only that, but you are a Toa, and certainly incapable of killing me. It would be a violation of the Toa Code.”

“Killing in self-defense is not a violation of the Toa Code,” said Flamu.

“Of course,” Velnax said. “You're Order of Mata Nui. You seem to take pleasure in finding all those loopholes. But they won't help you now. Nothing can help you now.”

Instinctively, Flamu reached for his comlink, but Velnax was faster than he was. He flicked his wrist and a jet of energy shot from his hand, hitting the storage container at his hip. Flamu's hand recoiled upon seeing that his comm now had a blackened hole through the middle, and the Toa looked up to see the Makuta advancing towards him.

“What have you done with our strike team?” said Flamu warily.

“As I said,” Velnax answered, “I redirected them.” He drew a long, menacing sword from its sheath and increased his pace ever so slightly.

“What do you mean?”

“Attempting to buy time, I see,” said Velnax. “I expected better of you. You are only here because I wished it. They are not here because I do not wish them to be.”

“A teleportation block?”

“No,” said Velnax. He was only a few bio away now, but Flamu knew better than to try to run—yet. “Better. I have the key—the first one, at any rate—to the Order of Mata Nui's destruction.”

“And what would that be?”

“My boy,” said Velnax, grinning broadly now, “why should I ever give that information to you?”

The Makuta lunged forward. Flamu didn't flinch, his weapons at the ready and teeth bared, when a sudden shockwave appeared out of nowhere, emanating from a point directly in between them. Flamu threw himself to the floor, avoiding the brunt of the blast, but Velnax was not so lucky. The fiery explosion pushed him backwards and into the air, but he regained his balance by the time the wave dissipated and landed back on his feet.

“A mask of explosions,” hissed Velnax. “Excellent. I like when my enemies choose not to go out without a fight.” “I hope you're satisfied,” said Flamu as he got back up.

“You are doomed, Flamu,” Velnax growled. “You have no way to escape. Robotopolis is a massive city, and even if you were to manage to escape from me, where would you go? This city is currently thousands of kio above Aqua Magna, and teleportation out of here is impossible.”

Flamu considered his options. His foe was right; there was no escape, and there would not be even should he kill Velnax. There was only one thing left to do.

“Tell me, Velnax, what is to keep me from killing us both right now?”

“You wouldn't.” There was no hint of uncertainty on Velnax's face.

“I would. I could release an explosion that could obliterate everything in this room, and probably take a good deal of Robotopolis with me. See, you've made a mistake, Velnax. You've taken away all of your opponent's hope of escape. That might work on someone else, but not on a Toa.”

“And why is that?” Velnax's eyes began to flicker, as if he really were becoming worried.

“Because I'm a Toa,” Flamu concluded, “and Toa never give—”

A sudden shock coursed through his body. He gasped, for a moment oblivious as to the cause of the sudden change, and he simply continued staring forward. Then the pain began, more than he had ever experienced before, but already it seemed dull, as if it were only a distant memory.

Realization came upon him, and Toa Flamu looked down to find a long, sharp, metal object sticking out of his torso. A pool of blood was forming on the floor, a thin trickle slowly running down his body.

He collapsed. He could do nothing but look up in vague horror as Makuta Kutrax pulled the blade out of his victim's body and wiped clean of the blood—his blood. Velnax stepped forward, grinning down at him.

“How true. Toa never give up. That, my friend, is exactly the reason you Toa are dying out.”

Flamu tried to ready his fire powers, to retaliate, to snap back, but found that he was unable to. His responses were slow, his body already all but paralyzed by the venom that coated Kutrax's weapon. He tried to spit out something, some final words, perhaps, a last condemnation on the Makuta, but the muscles of his mouth were locked together, impossible to move with his failing strength.

Things were growing darker now. Details began to blur out, and his eyes, locked directly in place, continued to stare at the faces of his two foes. His heartlight was flashing slower and slower, and no doubt, his mental activity would soon cease. There was no need to worry now; the end was coming, and there was no need to stop it. It simply was.

The last thing Toa Flamu saw was the vile, grinning face of Makuta Velnax. Then darkness enveloped his mind, and everything was gone.

Chapter 1
Day one.

The Daxia air at the foothills was moist with the regular early-morning fog. A dozen different bird calls pierced the thick air as the avian Rahi, unseen through the mist, communicated with one another in their own languages. They would only stay until the sun had warmed them enough to prepare them for the journey ahead; an unusually massive low-pressure system—the third in the last year—was forming in this part of the Matoran universe. They would soon be setting off for the southernmost areas of the universe, where although the resources were less plentiful, it could hardly be worse than being trapped in a hurricane.

A low rumbling began, at first barely strong enough for even a Gukko's heightened senses to notice. It intensified, and with it, the ground beneath began to shake. The birds were jerked to attention, and immediately began to screech in an expression of terror. They took wing in fright as the bioquake intensified, leaving just before the ground split open to form a gaping chasm in the ground, carving a scar in the center of the mountain range.

The air was silent for a moment, and then a figure jumped out from the chasm, silhouetted by the rising sun. It landed on the ground nearby, swiveling its head to examine its surroundings as it drew a pair of wickedly pointed blades from their sheaths at his waist.

“I am here,” the figure said. “I am waiting. Come, now, Toa.”

A flash of light illuminated the foothills for a fraction of a second. A powerful laser beam had appeared from somewhere in the vicinity, launching itself at the figure. With no time to dodge it, it smashed into the being, launching him off his feet. He landed with a grunt several bio back, a smoking, perfectly circular hole in his thick armor that should have killed anything smaller than a Muaka cat. Instead of killing him, however, he stood back up.

“Excellent, Fairon,” the figure murmured. “But that won't be enough against me, and you know it. Show yourselves.”

Another laser beam shot out from the shadows. Instead of hitting the being a second time, it fizzled out into nothingness two bio short of its target, dissolved by the invisible energy field that surrounded him. The being chuckled, stepping out into the light. He was tall and very muscular, covered in a thick layer of bright orange armor, an orange mask of shielding on his face.

“Come out. Dorex is waiting.”

A sudden flare shot out from a point on the other side of the grove of trees Dorex was standing by, glowing so brilliantly hat Dorex had to shield his eyes. In that half a second, he lost his concentration, but that was enough for his energy shield to flicker out of existence. A shot from a Nynrah Ghost blaster came from a completely different direction, which Dorex became aware of just in time to jump away from it. The projectile landed on the rock wall nearby and fell to the ground uselessly.

More shots followed, initiated by a green-armored figure perched on the rocks a few bio away, completely camouflaged with his surroundings. Dorex growled and held his ground as they approached him, standing perfectly still. As the first one approached, he swatted it away with the flat of his blade. In a few deft movements so fast as to be invisible to the eye, he disposed of the rest.

Seeing that his weapon was useless, the figure put it down and drew his weapon, a long staff with a sickle on its end. Dorex ran almost eagerly in his direction up the rocks, his heartlight flashing rapidly in anticipation. Then, without warning, he turned around and raised both his swords to parry an incoming swipe from his other enemy, a lean being clad in gold and white.

“Nice try, Fairon,” hissed Dorex as he stepped back, his two weapons at the ready, “but you can't use my own tricks against me. Distraction techniques won't work now.”

“I seem to be able to do them perfectly well,” said the Toa, his narrow staff at a ready position. “This is evidence enough of that.”

Fairon lashed out at him, and Dorex rolled away as his other foe, forgotten until now, sliced downwards from above. Fairon somersaulted over Dorex as he stood back up, hammering at him from above with blow after blow, each of which was neatly blocked. However, Fairon's comrade had come back into the fight, and had launched a similar volley of precision strikes at the Toa of stone's legs and lower body.

Unable to focus on both enemies at once, Dorex aimed a kick at the green Toa, only for it to be dodged. In turn, his foe jumped up in the air, sliced at Dorex's head. Seeing an opening, Dorex aimed upward—all the while dodging Fairon's attacks with the other hand—but that proved to be a mistake. The Toa brought the blade of his staff down hard, and before Dorex could pull back, his weapon was being knocked downward while the Toa's staff was going up towards his hand. He reacted just in time to keep his arm from being severed, moving away, but he was nearly relieved of his weapon by a second strike.

“Blast it, Rantu,” Dorex gasped half-seriously, parrying both Toa's attacks at once, “I trained you too well at this.” “And for that we thank you,” said Rantu, releasing the aura energy he had been gathering over the length of the fight in a contained beam straight at Dorex.

The Toa of stone gasped, a feeling of shocking euphoria passing through him. As he let down his guard completely, he noticed Fairon stabbing at him, and regained self-control just in time to evade it, cursing himself for the distraction. Rantu was as intelligent as he had trained him to be, Dorex noted; instead of trying to inspire fear in him, which he had been prepared for, he gave him a dose of bliss.

Rantu pressed the advantage well, but the Toa of light stood in place. Dorex recognized what was happening just as Fairon finished readying his power and channeled the energy at him through his staff. He managed to dodge it easily enough, but then both of them were upon him. Wasting no time, Fairon smashed his staff of light into his mentor's jaw, fracturing it, just as Rantu aimed at Dorex's thigh. He clumsily blocked the sweep, but it proved only to be a distraction; Fairon slammed the staff against the side of his head.

Chapter unfinished...

Trivia

 * The Fairon Chronicles was originally a short story written by, , and . It can be viewed here; however, the plot of the novel is quite different, and the short story should not be considered canon to the Gigas Magna storyline.