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This article was written by Chicken Bond. Please do not add to it without the writer's permission.
Date Set
1,300 Years Ago

Hunted is a canceled, uncompleted short story written by Chicken Bond. It focuses on the efforts of the Zeverek bounty hunter Skorr to hunt down the former Toa Hagah of Water Arrea.


A being lit a torch as night encompassed the island of Stelt. Another weary day had finally ended. The being sighed in relief. He was one of the island’s natives, being a member of the ruling species, and had made a living off slaving-driving and trading. It was a good business to run.

However, in recent months, things had been far from good for him. After he had fallen in dept with one of Stelt’s most influential clans, he had been forced to go rogue, and isolate himself from the rest of the world. In that time, a price had been put on his head, which was enough to attract the interest of bounty hunters and Dark Hunters alike; which was not a very hope-inspiring prospect.

The being turned to face his two bodyguards. Both were adorned in bulky, blue and white armour. He nodded to them, and they raised their weapons in response, prompting their employer to lay himself on the ground, leaning against a thick boulder to support him.

“Don’t let your guard down at any time,” he commanded. “If I truly have the likes of Dark Hunters chasing after me, I cannot risk my safety with guards who will fall asleep during my most vulnerable moments.”

The two bruisers nodded attentively; and turned to scan the area. The being sighed softly, and closed his eyes, allowing the dreary feeling of exhaustion to wash over him. It was comforting, and he savoured his rest, knowing he would not get many of these opportunities to in the times to come. With his guards watching over him he would be perfectly safe.

Suddenly, he heard a light thud. He would have disregarded the noise until he heard two more thuds, and then the sound of metal scrapping against metals, followed by another thud, which was then concluded by the sound of two light tremors that made an impact on the ground.

The being opened his eyes, and what he saw stunned him. It wasn’t the sight of his two dead bodyguards that surprised him; but it was rather the tall, black and silver armoured warrior pointing a strange, projectile weapon at his head.

“Sorry about the guards,” he said, coldly. “They were in my way, and unwilling to move, so I decided to… ‘Convince’ them to do so.”

“W-who are you?” stuttered the Steltian.

“Who am I?” asked the warrior. “Why, I’m your worst nightmare of course. And believe me; I’m going to make the last few moments of your worthless life as painful as possible.”

A low hum erupted from the warrior’s tool, signifying a rise in pressure as the warrior pushed his finger on the trigger. The last thing the Steltian would ever experience was the horrible sensation of a focused beam plasma piercing his head, a flash of light, and a cold feeling as darkness clouded his vision for the rest of eternity.

As quietly as he had killed him, the hunter turned away and strode off, leaving behind three dead victims with barely even a scratch on their armour.

Skorr leaned against a shadowed wall, crossing his legs and folding his arms. His bladed tail circled near his feet, dull light reflecting off the silvery surface of the spike.

It had been merely hours since he had returned to the territory of one of the most powerful ruling clans of Stelt, and after thirty five minutes of discussion and debate, departed with a stunningly advanced reward. Had it been converted into the Matoran widgets, Skorr’s reward would have been worth at least forty two thousand.

Until he was employed again, Skorr had decided to rest at his favourite hideout, the tavern known as the Tahtorak's Talon. Skorr strode towards the centre of his apartment, and leaned down and pulled open a hidden door in the floor.

Upon observing the contents of the compartment, Skorr’s eyes gleamed greedily. His entire fortune lay beneath the wooden boards of this room; and no one other than himself knew of this hidden treasury’s existence.

Carefully placing his latest payment in the compartment, Skorr closed the door of the storeroom, and concealing his treasury once again. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Without even waiting for a response; a being entered. An ugly, hunchbacked creature entered the room, his shining gray armour cascading light into the darkened room. Skorr instantly relaxed at the sight of Jekart.

“You have a message, Skorr.” began Jekart. “It’s deliverers have a proposition for you.”

Makuta Dredzek stood on one of the rocky shorelines of Destral. Behind him, stood his Onu-Matoran assistant Corzakx and a patrol of Rahkshi, who had been assigned by Teridax himself to protect Dredzek during his meeting. And just as a ‘necessary’ precaution, a platoon of Exo-Toa was hidden behind the numerous jagged, rocky outcroppings along the shoreline; just waiting for a command to spring up and protect their Makuta master.

Personally, Dredzek felt no need for the additional security detail for two reasons. Firstly, he was a Makuta; and any being insane enough to not show respect towards him would meet a rather gruesome death. And secondly, he was already a master of combat, even in the eyes of some such as Antroz. Having been trained for many years by Makuta Verahk himself, Dredzek had amassed skills that could possibly overwhelm even the likes of Icarax himself.

Those two facts only served to bolster Dredzek’s weariness at the prospect of having a battalion of Brotherhood soldiers behind him merely to protect him.

Suddenly, Dredzek’s senses went on full alert. He felt a disturbance in the world around him. He sensed wind currents shifting in the space above, as if some great, hovering object was just about to land there. Absorbing the aura, Dredzek felt the buzz of electricity, the hum of a high-powered engine, and the creaking of gear. Not only that, he felt something very powerful steering this machine.

Or someone.

In that fraction of a microsecond, the sound of engines flooded the Makuta's ears. From behind him, a sleek aerial vehicle swooshed past Dredzek's numerous Rahkshi and Ex-Toa, and made a landing right in front of him. Dredzek’s dead features never faltered; and his cold composure remained even as the bounty hunter known as Skorr dismounted from his cherished vehicle, the Kualsi X3.

“I expected you to come by boat,” said the Makuta coolly.

“Me? On a boat? Never. Boats are pointless inventions for beings with lesser intellects who can’t travel the way I can. No, aerial transportation is a much more efficient method of moving.”

Dredzek nodded his bat-like face impatiently.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Of course I do,” replied Skorr. “There is a being out in this big, wide universe of ours, who your Brotherhood wants eliminated, resulting in you contacting me to kill this person. I assume you’re hoping to hire me because my target is powerful enough to avoid you, fight off your forces, partially humiliated you, and yet still survived to strike another day. Am I getting warm?”

“Far too warm,” answered Dredzek between clenched fangs. “I need you to eliminate this Toa.”

Dredzek held out a small tablet with a carving of a female Toa, her name carved at the bottom in Matoran writing. Skorr took the tablet, and read the name aloud.

Arrea?” he asked.

“Indeed,” replied Dredzek. “A Toa of Water, and a former member of the Toa Hagah squad assigned to me. She avoided her fate, and escaped my clutches. She has been… disrupting my brother and sister’s plans. She must be eliminated.”

“How much will I be payed?” asked Skorr, his eyes shining with greed. “If you want a bounty hunter of my calibre, then you must know the price I charge.”

“For the killing of a mere Toa?” retorted Dredzek. “Perhaps I have been mislead,” he continued. “Perhaps your reputation is deceptive. After all, I can’t hire a mercenary who requests payment just to mask his own fear of carrying out a mission that could potentially risk his life.”

“If the killing of this Toa is so easy, why haven’t you done it?” Skorr replied in a menacing tone.

Silence followed for a few seconds. One concealed Exo-Toa raised its weapon as the tensions rose. Finally, Dredzek replied.

“Because she has been trained by me, and she has been trained by a master swordsman before me, and she knows how to defeat me in combat. No, I would risk my life going against her; so rather than waste time and energy hunting her, I have hired you.”

Skorr stared at the Makuta.

“I’ll accept the job… on the condition that you pay me in full for doing so.”

“You have a deal,” replied Dredzek. “You will find her on the Southern Continent; there you will be able to kill her.”

Skorr nodded, and in a matter of seconds, had slotted himself back onboard the Kualsi X3 and initiated it for flight. The engine roared to life, and with an almighty blaze of light, the vehicle blasted itself off and into the clouded heavens above. Dredzek, merely stared after him, his eyes cold and uncaring.

“Are you sure you want to risk hiring this fool,” asked Corzakx. The Matoran was obviously nervous.

“Absolutely,” replied Dredzek. “And if things go the way I want, perhaps Skorr won’t return to collect his reward.”