Exit Wound

Exit Wound is a short story serial written by BobTheDoctor27, chronicling Jareroden and Mersery's recovery mission to the Toa Fortress in the aftermath of its siege.

The story serial was notably written in response to the Custom BIONICLE Wiki:Ten Year Anniversary Contest.

Story
No survivors.

Not a single atom of life stirred in the murky rubble of the coastal ruins, save for the mist that now crept slowly through the debris, possessing all the likeness of smoke. Turrets and walls of the mighty granite fortress protruded through the vapors, still standing after the onslaught but now chilled by the absence of its occupants. Even the flames had cooled. Now the fortress stood eerily still.

Two days had elapsed since the battle had drawn to its close and the stronghold had been conquered. Two days since the inhabitants had been slaughtered. Two days since the last wounded sentry had succumbed to his injuries amidst ash and wreckage.

Two days since the Toa fell.

Deciding that the sombre leaden silence had hung for too long, the silhouette of a dark figure emerged at the gate of the structure, disturbing the virgin mist. Clad in black armor, he surveyed the lingering remnants of civilization, observing the central courtyard and identifying the stone keep in the distance.

“Spread out,” he said, motioning for his squadron to mobilize. “Secure a perimeter.”

No sooner had the words left the mouthguard of his Kanohi Hau, the sound of heavy footfall filled the ancient amphitheatre. More shapes emerged from the thick veil of mist that encompassed the structure.

With forensic caution, the figures moved across the courtyard. All eight were seasoned but nonetheless low-ranking Order of Mata Nui operatives well-rehearsed in the art of infiltration. One of their number had even led a successful career as an Xian mercenary before his recruitment into their ranks. Spreading out from their leader, the unit slowly dissipated. Procedure required they kept their weapons drawn until they had established that the area was clear, but it took just a few quick glances to discern there were no hostiles left.

Taking in an unpleasant lungful of air, the Toa known as Jareroden heaved a sigh that might have better befitted a Turaga. He was starting to wish his exo-suit had been equipped with a breathing apparatus.

“Report.”

“No hostiles, sir,” responded one of the troopers, an especially lithe Forgern armed with a Steltian Predator Rifle.

Nodding in acknowledgement, the Toa of Magnetism activated his communicator.

“Clear,” he repeated.

There was a long pause as the scouts conducted a more detailed sweep, turning up nothing in the immediate vacinity. Then, one final silhouette surfaced from the fog: a tall Mersion sporting an advanced datapad and gripping an ornamental staff.

Mersery.

Ordinarily, the overly-enthusiastic scientist would have bounded up into the courtyard, marveling at the readings on his scanner and eager to locate their source. But, contrary to popular belief, Helryx’s chief scientific advisor had some semblance of tact. A cautiously grim expression now adorned his Kanohi Makiti.

“No evidence of combustible, temporal, or geological anomalies,” he announced, flicking through the datapad.

“Did we not know that already?” asked Jareroden curtly.

The Mersion shook his head.

“There’s faint evidence of elemental discharge all over the place: herbological, seismic, thermal, even gravitational readings.”

Noticing that the mist was beginning to lift, Jareroden turned to inspect the inner walls of the fortress. Remarking a collapsed section of the stonework, he spotted the crushed remains of a Toa of Plasma half-buried in the rubble. He lay terminally still, covered in a thick layer of ash.

“That’s to be expected,” he brooded, wondering how easily he might have shared that same fate had he been stationed at this post.

The silence was gone now. Disturbed by the soft footfall of the response unit. One set of regimented steps caught Jareroden’s attention though as the Xevthian scout returned from his sweep.

“Confirmed casualties,” he said, modified Kanoka Launcher in hand. “We’ve identified the hostiles.”

Raising an eyebrow, the Toa of Magnetism glanced over the soldier’s shoulder, noticing two of the troopers had laid down their weapons to tend to a body impaled on a metallic spike. Clad in a peculiar set of brown and blue armor, the four-armed corpse looked like no Toa that Jareroden had ever seen.

“That supposed to be a Rahi?”

“Frostelus,” muttered Mersery with a fleeting glance. “An ill-tempered breed of creature known to inhabit colder climates. They have a territory not far from here, but I will admit it is unusual to see them at this altitude.”

“So… discount Zyglak?”

The Mersion’s upper lip quivered with the disapproving stiffness of a Ko-Matoran scholar.

“Not quite.”

“Well, whatever they are, see that you get a specimen back to Daxia. And let’s get an inventory going - see what’s missing and who can be accounted for.”

Lowered his gaze, the the Xevthian nodded in wordless acknowledgement, his eyes resting upon the Toa of Plasma Jareroden had been inspecting a moment prior. Then he about-turned to carry out his instructions.

The Toa of Magnetism pulled a sour expression, a distant glimmer in his eyes. He was not known for letting emotions get the better of him. Unsheathing his Moonsteel Greatsword, he scanned the perimeter.

“Two of you cover Mersery,” he instructed the troopers. “The rest of you follow me. There’s precious cargo stored in this fortress. We’re not leaving until it’s secured.”

With those parting words, the unit once again split apart. Venturing forth into the fog that obscured the rest of the fortress, Toa Jareroden faded from view.

Frostelus were a curious species.

Studying the specimen now, Mersery could do little else but wonder what manner of Makuta was abstract enough to even attempt merging so many strands of Protodermic code at once.

Housed within a fully mechanical exoskeleton, the Frostelus’ organic composition was virtually inseparable from its metallic casing. The few slithers of tissue that he could extract could be classified as neither reptilian or amphibian but still they displayed the hallmarks of both Rahi types: four arms, two legs, even Rhotuku capability.

But by far the most authenticating attribute of the species was its heightened intelligence. For centuries academic circles had argued that the Rahi classification was misapplied on Frostelus, which had been known to teach, learn, scheme, and grieve. Examining the neocortex through his instruments, Mersery was inclined to agree.

Even two days after death there was evidence of advanced neurological development that far exceeded the patterns of the Frostelus’ closest ancestral relative: the Rock Raptor. In most sapient beings, these cells were involved in processes of social conduct, emotions, judgment, and self-awareness. The species was a feat of biological engineering.

Continuing to marvel at the neurology of his subject, the Mersion began to dig deeper. So far as he could tell, his initial prognosis held true - there was no indication of abnormal behavioural patterns. No environmental or dietary factors suggested by the bloodwork that would prompt the attack. Frostelus were nothing if not territorial. With no other catalyst present in the specimen it seemed entirely possible that their assault on the fortress had a natural impetus.

Content that he had discerned about as much as he could from the field autopsy, the Mersion began packing away his instruments. As he sterilized his scalpels and rolled up his surgical tools into their travel-pouch, he began contemplating his station in life. Here he was, a phenomenal scientist credited with with no discoveries. A devastating warrior who would rather not fight. A negotiation without peer who frankly preferred to sit alone in a quiet cave and meditate.

Being named Helryx’s chief scientific advisor had come as a complete surprise to him. Even now, he was sometimes astonished by the faith the Order of Mata Nui had in his abilities, and the credit they gave to his wisdom. Greatness was never his ambition. He wanted only to perform whatever task he had been given to the best of his ability.

Gazing up from his handiwork with the satisfied twinkle of a Ta-Matoran in a foundry, the scientist was surprised to see the other troopers returning from the mist empty-handed. Initially skeptical, he greeted them with a warm smile only to be thawed by the icy melancholy of their expressions.

“Is something the matter?” he asked amicably.

Shuffling furtively towards him, the figures seemed uncharacteristically hesitant.

“It’s the Toa...” answered one of their number.

Mersery nodded solemnly. “Yes, yes. It is a rather grim fate. But our orders are clear: we are to extract any sensitive materials from the site and make like we were never here. Which unfortunately means--”

“No, sir,” continued the trooper. “Not the Toa we found here… it’s the Toa we brought…”

Mersery’s features froze as the realization slowly dawned upon him. The mist swirled in the distance. The words dissipated into absolute silence.

“Not again....”

Ducking beneath the stone archway of the fortress’ central keep, the Mersion scanned for the missing Toa of Magnetism through pensive and world-weary eyes.

Traditionally, Toa were not admitted into the ranks of the Order of Mata Nui as a rule of thumb. In Mersery’s own experience, moral reservations surrounding the Toa Code in particular seemed to all too often made candidates unsuitable for the world of espionage. With the clandestine activities of the organization kept secret from the rest of the Matoran Universe, it had been decided long ago that Toa would generally be excluded from membership so as not to violate their right to follow their guiding principle, save for a few especially noteworthy individuals.

Although the Mersion species possessed no such codex of their own, Mersery could relate to the curious predicament that Jareroden so often found himself in, for he was guided principally by compassion, which often left him deeply conflicted in much the same way as a Toa might feel.

But that was not to say the pair shared the deep bond of kindred spirits. Whereas Mersery had elected to join the organization of his own free volition, Jareroden had been offered no choice at all. For the past 20,000 years, the Brotherhood of Makuta had been complicit in a mass genocide of his kind, assassinating any Toa of Magnetism or Iron who might be able to exploit weaknesses in their armor. Having survived attempts on his life by two different Makuta, Jareroden had weathered the onslaught only to been left as one of the few remaining Toa of Magnetism left in the Matoran Universe. When he had first set foot on the shores of Daxia, his first thoughts had likely been how much he had left to compromise for the sake of his own survival.

That being said, Jareroden had developed a great deal since joining the organization. For many years Mersery had accompanied the Toa of Magnetism on recovery and extraction assignments. He could still be surprised by the new depth of his voice. The calm confidence. The maturity. He was the most powerful Toa of Magnetism of his generation - perhaps even of any generation. The fastest. The strongest. An unbeatable strategist. An unstoppable warrior. On the ground, in the air, or sea, or desert, there was no-one even close. He had not just power, not just skill, but dash: that rare, invaluable combination of boldness and grace.

It seemed that only last year he had taken the unfortunate Toa under his wing as one of the least experienced Order recruits in the organization’s history. Now Jareroden outranked him entirely.

Still, part of the scientist kept hoping to hear some trace of the Toa’s old cocky grin in his tone, but he never did. The somberness of a warrior on the path to his own destruction remained beneath all his quips.

Nearing the end of the central corridor, Mersery stepped over the petrified remains of two Toa sentries, slumped against the wall of their post. The great oak door hung ajar. Inside he gazed upon the familiar visage of his former protege, on his knees before a wall of ancient carving.

“The History of the Toa,” announced Jareroden, reading the golden symbols transcribed in broad letters.

Gazing at the wall before him, the Mersion winced.

“The history of your people…” he observed guiltily.

His partner nodded. Around him lay the remains of three Toa: one of Iron, one of Ice, and one of Psionics.

“You know, this place never had a name,” murmured the Toa blankly. “Why would it ever need one? This was the Toa Fortress. Ever since the League of Six Kingdoms’ downfall, it’d been manned by legions of hardened warriors: an impenetrable foothold. I heard tales of it from Turaga over the years. Toa more experienced that I recommended I made the journey. Some of the most refined elemental masters in the known universe resided within these battlements, imparting their wisdom on any wandering Toa who made the pilgrimage to their keep. It was a constant - a staple of our identity. For the longest time, it seemed it would never fall.”

Sensing that now was not the time to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder, the Mersion continued to listen, scanning the text transcribed on the wall for any hint of what had caused such a reaction.

“But times changed, I guess,” continued the broken warrior before him. “The Dark Hunters began to crop up and the Makuta evolved. The will of Mata Nui became disenfranchised from the will of the people - the Steltians, the Vortixx, the Zeverek, the Bukgu…”

Mersery said nothing.

“It felt like we Toa were marching for a lost cause, fated for one final spectacular failure that would bring our kind crashing down. Well, I guess it happened… right here in these walls... not with a bang but a whimper.”

“Jareroden…”

“On all sides, it seemed that the ideals of the Toa were coming under siege,” snapped the warrior, now reading a recent passage at the bottom of the wall. “They predicted that the end would come - that if they lost their foothold then there would be no hope for the rest of us. And now they’re gone, all their teachings lost to time... like it’s the Toa Code itself that fell here.”

Turning at long last to seek comfort in the presence of Mersery, Jareroden looked upon his friend with doleful eyes only to find the Mersion could not meet his gaze. Instead he was frowning at his datapad, his brow heavy.

“Are you for real right now?!” he exclaimed.

“Did you scan this chamber?”

The Toa glared at him, a strange sensation beginning to overcome him

“Jareroden?”

“I think you know that I did not.” Before either Order agent could so much as move, an icy current of caustic air swept across the room. Vapor hanging to the chamber floor began to swirl and dance. The sound wound itself around their audio receptors and began to change, like a terrible lullaby. Then, from that background of sound that ebbed and flowed just like waves on a craggy beach, came the unmistakable utterance of a word.

“Leeeeave.”

Stowing his emotions, Jareroden snatched up his Moonsteel Greatsword and spun around to face the gaseous formation. Holding up an arm to protect Mersery, the two figures stared in disbelief at the shape before them, then around the chamber, their eyes finally falling on the bodies of the Toa - one of Iron sporting a Miru, one of Ice sporting an Arthron…

And one of Psionics...

Sporting a battered Iden.

“Oh come on!” yelled Jareroden.

“Fascinating,” murmured Mersery, the readings on his datapad chiming against the rush of the smoky silhouette. “I’m reading a massive psycho-kinetic energy buildup. No mass. No lifesigns. It’s an apparition! A phantom! It’s--“

“Don’t say it…”

“A ghost!”

Ignoring the mad gleam in his comrade’s eye, the Jareroden performed a scan of his own, swooping his sword through the pearly mist as it compacted into a rough approximation of a Toa. She glared at him through the ireful brows of her phantasmic Iden.

“Leeeeeave,” she repeated.

“Mersery, what are we looking at here?” bellowed the Toa, wafting his arms around trying to dissipate the spectre.

Pulling up the listing for the Kanohi Iden on his datapad, Mersery’s keen scientific mind began to kick in.

“The Kanohi Iden is the Mask of Spirit,” he read aloud. “It permits the bearer temporarily release their spirit from their body. When released, the user's spirit is able to fly at great speeds, travel through barriers, and inhabit the bodies of other uninhabited lifeforms. In this form, the bearer is practically invulnerable and visible only to Rode or Elda-wearers.”

“Your database is outdated!” snarled Jareroden, trying to draw the apparition’s attention away from his teammate.

Smoky tendrils erupted from the wraith’s pearly fingertips, a piercing scream escaping her wispy mouthpiece. They snared the Toa of Magnetism’s left forearm as he tried to wrestle his way free. Within seconds he had been hoisted entirely off the ground by his appendage. Wincing in pain, the Toa swung his sword and continued to thrash, hoping to disrupt the phantom. Enjoying no success, he begrudgingly detached the gauntlet of his Exo Suit, dropping back to his feet.

Clipping his datapad to the groove in his thigh armor and raising his Chronal Staff, Mersery examined the spectacle before him.

“A Toa of Psionics who died while using a Kanohi Iden and who now lingers in this fortress...” he hypothesized with a satisfied sigh. “If only the editors of my old scientific journal could see me now.”

“Leeeeeeeave,” echoed the spirit for a third time, more intently now.

“The Iden’s a weird one,” mused Jareroden, calling upon the power of his Kanohi Hau and erecting a quasi-holographic force field around himself to no effect. “So you’re saying her Psionic powers are tethering her here?”

“Can’t say for certain,” noted the Mersion, eying the body. “A Toa cannot activate their Elemental Powers whilst in astral form, but we cannot rule out the possibility that her Psionic powers galvanized her astral form. It’s a sheer act of will - a testament to the psychological fortitude of her kind!”

Gritting his teeth, Jareroden was thrown off-balance as his Moonsteel Greatsword was torn from his hands and thrown to the side of the chamber.

“Options?” he ordered, instinctively raising his fists.

Waving his Chronal Staff at the advancing silhouette, Mersery pulled a sour expression.

“Beating a tactical retreat and coming back once her astral form has weakened would be our best bet.”

Jareroden shook his head, braving a semi-solid blow to his abdomen.

“Can’t leave the fortress until we’ve completed the assignment.”

“Then we need to speed up the process.”

Calling upon his natural telepathic abilities, Mersery enjoyed no success reading the mind of the ghoulish former Toa. For a long moment he considered appealing to reason and negotiating with the apparition, but the transparent hand reaching for his throat suggested his adversary was somewhat unwilling.

“The Electromagnetics of Consciousness!” he exclaimed. “Have you read it?”

Jareroden stared at him blankly, inviting him to explain.

Jabbing at the wraith with his Chronal Staff, Mersery mustered the strength to lecture his former student once more.

“It’s an academic thesis written by a Ko-Matoran seer named Ihu,” he winced, losing a tug of war for his Chronal Staff. “After conducting experiments with several Fa-Matoran collaborators, he surmised that electromagnetic fields can be used to control the central nervous systems of all known species in this universe!” “Fabulous,” grunted Jareroden,thankful for the moment of reprieve while he nursed his exposed wrist. “And how does this help us?”

With airy tendrils tightening around his muscles and his grip loosening, Mersery finally lost hold of the Chronal Staff. The ghoulish Toa screeched once more as she flung it to one side, smashing the crystal against the wall of the chamber and rendering the delicate weapon useless.

“Even in death, her electromagnetic consciousness lingers!” bellowed the Mersion as the phantom closed in on him. “My datapad detected it while you were looking at the wall! You have to manipulate it!”

Pausing to think up an argument but finding none, the Toa of Magnetism resolved to do as instructed. Electromagnetic fields were a tall order, especially without a Toa of Lightning to assist him. Moreover, he had little experience using his Elemental Powers for so precise a purpose. But he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

Raising his arms, Jareroden called deep within himself and closed his eyes, searching blindly for the sub-atomic magnetic pulse of the spectre.

“I wish I had an Arthron right about now,” he quipped.

The trail was barely palpable, but it could not escape the reach of a seasoned Toa. Locating the consciousness was once thing, but disrupting it alone was something else entirely.

Drawing one hand closer and the other further away, Jareroden delved out of his element. Though electromagnetics were far beyond the wheelhouse of a Toa of Magnetism, he could feel the shifting physicality of the apparition. And if he could feel it...

Bringing his wrists together and spreading his palms, he centered himself and triggered a magnetic pulse. Within an instant, a ring of sapphire energy have sprung from his body and pulsated across the chamber, like a powerful ripple on the surface of a pond.

Eyes widening, the phantom turned to face him, disturbed by the field. Releasing Mersery from her grip, she made a grab for the Toa. But another pulse emanated from Jareroden’s hands, ensured that she advanced no further.

Screeching wordlessly in agony, the spirit slowly began to falter, the concentric magnetic pulses gradually disrupting the tenuous magnetic bond that anchored her to the world. With each wave her wispy form began to fade.

Lying dazed on the floor, Mersery could do little else but watch the scene unfold before him. At long last the flickering remnant of the sentry began to break down entirely, its own constitution buckling at Jareroden’s feet. Metallic teeth gritted, the Toa of Magnetism continued to generate charged waves of ions. Again and again. Until their assailant had weakened to less than a wisp.

Then, with one terminal screech, the lingering residue of the fallen Toa faded from vision entirely, enveloped by the mist that now hung still in the empty chamber.

Dropping to one knee, the Toa of Magnetism steadied himself, his elemental energies drained from exertion. Panting for great lungfuls of air, he looked up to see Mersery slumped against the wall, a guilty expression upon his Kanohi.

Silence reigned in the chamber for a long moment as the pair recomposed themselves, unsure what words could even encompass the experience they had suffered through. At first they lay where they had landed, as though their limbs were too leaden to rise. Then Jareroden held his head in his hands.

"I shouldn’t have done that," he murmured, equal parts to console himself and acquit him of judgment in the eyes of his mentor. “I know we couldn’t leave her like that, but - I just… It was wrong! Did we condemn her to death in Mata Nui’s name? Is that what we do now? How can I - ”

He trailed off, a lump forming deep in his throat.

There were no words.

The hand on his shoulder said it all.

"I'm just saying, they've been in there together for a long time," mused the Bukgu trooper, perched comfortable atop a piece of fallen debris. "If we go looking for them now, our mission reports might get colorful."

Exchanging worried glances, the troopers continued to inspect their weapons and occupy themselves in the absence of their commanding officers.

The sweep had long-since been completed and a full inventory was now being finalized by the Xevthian. With the Makoki Stone missing and with indications of a struggle at the eastern gate, they now had a running theory that the Frostelus could not have been alone. Judging by the series of grooves etched into the cliff-face, it seemed the artifact had been pillaged simultaneous to the siege. Whether this assault was the work of a coordinated mercenary or a fortunate opportunist remained unclear, but that was speculation beyond their paygrade.

"Don't know why you fools listened to the Mersion," grunted the Skakdi trooper, picking his teeth with a dagger. "He's a science officer. A high-ranking one, sure, but he’s not tactical. He’s not qualified to give field commands."

Begrudgingly, the troopers shrugged.

To Be Added

Characters

 * Jareroden
 * Mersery
 * An Iden-wearing Toa of Psionics stationed in the inner sanctum - Deceased
 * Ihu - Mentioned
 * A Frostelus - Deceased
 * Eight Order of Mata Nui troopers
 * A Bukgu operative
 * An Xevthian operative armed with a modified Kanoka Launcher
 * A Forgern operative armed with a Steltian Predator Rifle
 * A Skakdi operative
 * Four other low-ranking operatives
 * A Toa of Plasma sentry stationed at the outer perimeter of the fortress - Deceased
 * A Toa of Iron sentry stationed in the inner sanctum - Deceased
 * A Toa of Ice sentry stationed in the inner sanctum - Deceased

Trivia

 * BobTheDoctor27 originally planned to release Exit Wound in 2014 as the second installment in his Dream Team story arc. However, due to wider complications and a lack of progress, plans for this movement fell through and the original story idea was rejected.
 * This story marks the first physical interaction between Jareroden and Mersery on the wiki.