I’m kinda scared to learn what that’s gonna mean…
Oh god
this is so fun!!!
poor onewa
1 Like
Chapter 8 is out! This is my longest chapter yet, so I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 8
The Next Day
Turaga Press Briefing
Turaga Dume was getting ready to give his public address to New Atero about the events that had transpired yesterday morning.
The rest of the Turaga were running around frantically in the council chamber, trying to collect their documents and preparing to give the press statement.
“Where’s Onewa? He hasn’t been seen since yesterday afternoon, and he hasn’t even come yet!” Vakama snapped, frustration showing in his voice. “I tried contacting his mobile device, but he hasn’t picked up!”
“He’s usually the punctual type,” Whenua said. “Something must have happened.”
“He must be sick,” Dume replied. “He’s usually the type to show up on time, but I don’t know why he didn’t inform us. He went home from my house after you sent him to check on me, complaining of a headache and back pain. Better to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Lewa looked up once he heard these words. Instantly, a rush of anger, grief, and guilt swept through his mind. He was desperately trying to restrain himself from saying anything, believing the best course of action was to break the news to everyone else after the press briefing was over. He was very exhausted after having nightmares and staying awake throughout the entire night over what he saw while on guard patrol for the Turaga.
The four remaining Toa Nuva – Kopaka, Lewa, Onua, and Pohatu, as well as the four remaining Toa Mahri – Jaller, Kongu, Nuparu, and Hahli, sat towards the back of the wall, quietly conversing between themselves. Pohatu sat aside, his Kakama Nuva buried in his hands. One quick glance at Lewa showed his solemn demeanor, which was quite jarring for a Toa who was normally the most playful and light-hearted of the bunch. Kongu was the first to pick up this change.
“Lewa, what happened? You look awfully sober,” Toa Kongu asked. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, e – e – everything’s fine,” Lewa stammered. There was a hint of anxiety and foreboding in his voice. “Just had some dark-dreams last night is all.”
“Are you sure?” Kongu asked, his eyes narrowing. “Pohatu’s been awfully quiet as well since we got here.
Pohatu looked up at the mention of his name, but then went back to contemplating his thoughts silently.
“Pohatu is acting like I usually do,” Kopaka observed. “Something is wrong between the two of them, or something happened involving the two of them, and they are not telling us.”
Right as the conversation was about to continue, Turaga Vakama tapped Kopaka on the shoulder.
“We’re about to give the live address now. You Toa must keep guard in the back to ensure rioters do not storm the building,” he said, solemnly. He then walked off towards the balcony of the Council Building, where all the Turaga and Raanu stood, assembled, in front of the crowd.
Thank Mata Nui that happened, Lewa thought, grateful for the diversion.
He and the rest of the Toa got up from their seats and walked down the stairs, reaching the outside of the building. They stood in front of the giant marble entrance, lined with gold pillars. The building was a symbol of splendor and elegance, shining like a beacon amongst the slums and shanty towns the Council sector was surrounded by. The Toa stood on guard, prepared to quell an angry mob at the behest of the Turaga.
Meanwhile, up above, Turaga Dume walked out onto the balcony, which was lit brightly by the sunlight. He waved to the crowd, and saluted them, being flanked by the rest of the Turaga.
In theory, the seven Turaga and Raanu were joint rulers of the city, with Raanu serving as the representative for the Agori, but it was Turaga Dume who held the most power among the eight rulers. This was until recently, when the Turaga began to act more like a separate entity, opposing Dume’s policies and laws and vetoing them. This created a political chasm, a struggle for power, between Turaga Dume and the others.
“Praise Mata Nui! Praise Mata Nui!” Dume yelled to the crowd, saluting them. Just as many present in the crowd booed Turaga Dume as cheered him on. Despite this, there was an atmosphere of grief hanging over everyone present in the Square of Martyrs.
It took a while for the crowd to calm down for Turaga Dume to begin speaking.
“Yesterday, a really unfortunate and horrible event occurred in front of these majestic steps,” Turaga Dume began. He paused. He was stopped by a group of Po-Matoran yelling.
“Where’s Turaga Onewa?” they demanded.
“Onewa is unfortunately not well. I think he has come down with a strain of the virus that had been circulating through the city recently,” Turaga Dume said. “Back to my address.”
“It didn’t have to be this way. I, on the behalf of my rulers-in-command and myself, extend our deepest condolences to the families of the victims of yesterday’s massacre. I am deeply sorry for what had happened. New Atero, and Spherus Magna, I humbly ask for your forgiveness.” He paused again, seemingly to add depth to his speech. Surprisingly, it was not artificial, and seemed to be coming out of Turaga Dume’s own volition.
“I have commissioned our Matoran Police Force to hand out 10,000 widgets as compensation to the families of each of the 102 victims in yesterday’s massacre.”
As almost seventy percent of New Atero’s population lived in varying degrees of poverty, ten thousand widgets was a sum of money that had the potential to change entire lives.
“This city has problems. It is hardly a secret at this point. This city needs change.”
“And we are working tirelessly to bring change to this city.”
“Corruption, crime, inflation, the list goes on. I give you my word, under our administration New Atero will become a better city than any of you could ever imagine. Already we are seeing a decrease in overall crime across the city, less Matoran are going to jail, and our criminal courts are sitting empty more than ninety percent of the time.”
“It’s only a matter of time before we solve the other problems.”
“Now, I understand there are problems with the RoboCop Force, our artificial robot system designed specifically with the aim of cracking down on crime. I am fully aware that they were the perpetrators of yesterday’s massacre. We know our responsibility of keeping the city safe from systems gone wrong, and so we have decided collectively that changes must be made to the system.”
“In the very near future, we will be scaling back the RCF patrol squadrons assigned to guard the richer sectors. Gradually, this gradual loosening of robot controlled policing will reach the poorer sectors, who will then be replaced by Matoran officers.”
Turaga Dume was interrupted by a scream from the crowd.
“What about Nuhrii’s death?!” a Ta-Matoran in the crowd screamed.
“Nuhrii’s death was very unfortunate,” Turaga Dume said, a hint of feigned sadness creeping into his voice. “It was very untimely.”
“My team assigned to this case is actively working around the clock to find clues. They are interrogating people as we speak, people with known connections to Nuhrii.”
“I promise you, we will give closure to all of you on what happened with his unfortunate murder. Even though he was a member of the opposing political party, it is our duty as rulers to keep the city safe and secure. Thank you to all of you for taking the time to listen to this heartfelt speech, and praise Mata Nui!” Turaga Dume finished his address, which was met with both cheers and boos alike. He and the rest of the Turaga walked back into the building, and out of the view of the TV and news stations that had come to broadcast his address all over the city and the nation.
“Did you really have to lie like that, Dume?” Nokama asked.
“Yes, Nokama, we need to at least protect our public image,” Dume responded, flatly.
The Turaga walked towards their meeting chamber, when suddenly the Toa walked up to them.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Pohatu said, his voice sounding ragged. The discomfort and grief clearly showed on his face. Yet still, he tried his best to maintain his composure. “Come inside the meeting room. This must be kept confidential, at least for now.”
The Turaga exchanged looks, expressions of confusion and puzzlement splayed out on their faces. Without questioning, however, they complied.
Once they had entered the room, Turaga Dume sent out all bodyguards and RCF units, and shut the door.
“Tell us, Toa Pohatu. Voice your concern,” Dume said.
Pohatu fought to maintain his calmness as the rush of very disturbing images flowed through his mind. It was too overwhelming, but Pohatu desperately tried to fight back.
“What’s … the matter?” Matau asked, apprehensively.
“T – T – Turaga Onewa,” Pohatu said, stammering. The grief was just too much to control, and it threatened to collapse him entirely.
“He w – w – wasn’t sick,” Pohatu said. He took a deep breath, and continued. “Yesterday, you s – s – sent me and Toa Lewa on a covert m – m – mission to make sure Turaga Onewa is p – p – protected as he travels to Turaga Dume’s house to reason with him.
Lewa stepped up, a solemn and grim look on his face. “I will never forget what I saw last night. He was not sick.”
“Turaga Onewa has been killed.”
4 Likes
Oh dang things are gonna get ugly soon
You ain’t seen nothing yet 
1 Like
uh oh
things just got out of hand!
Chapter 9 has just been finished! C&C is greatly appreciated!
Chapter 9
The entire assembled group was caught by surprise at the news.
Gasps and expressions of shock and surprise quickly ran through the group as the Toa and the Turaga looked at each other, puzzled and confused.
“No … this can’t be …” Vakama started. He stopped after realizing Pohatu had sunk to the ground and buried his face in his hands.
“Is this … true?” Onua asked Lewa.
“Pohatu and I started from the council building to check on Onewa when we saw a fire and heard a faint scream. There were three RCF drones in the area. It happened at the corner of Nuva and Metru sectors. How ironic,” Lewa said, grimly. “We were only able to recover his hammer. His mask and armor was completely destroyed. His corpse was badly burnt and scarred.” Lewa put the charred remains of Onewa’s hammer on the table for all to see. It served as clear proof that Onewa had really passed.
“So. The RCF drones killed him,” Turaga Nuju said, speaking in Matoran. “I knew they had something to do with these murders. They are targeting members of both parties. But they would not kill without a reason. That means someone is behind this whole operation. Someone has been feeding them malicious commands.”
“Dume, the RCF is broken beyond repair. Someone has hacked the system we thought was super encrypted. They’re using it to their advantage. They’re trying to turn our units against us. It’s time to put an end to this madness,” Nokama said, sadly. “It’s caused needless deaths, deaths that were entirely preventable.”
“First, Norik died. Then, Hewkii died, and after him it was Idris, Garan, Orkahm, and Dalu. Most recently was Nuhrii. Notice the pattern? They were all members of the Opposition Party, and they were all killed systematically. I do not know what system the murderer used, but members of our rather large political enemy had been dropping left and right. Now, whoever’s been committing these crimes has set their sights on us. I may be next, or anyone else in this room may be next. None of these murders have been solved. What is the meaning of this? Where have we gone wrong, and why did our errors come to a magnitude that had resulted in the death of someone we considered a lifelong comrade?” Whenua asked.
The mention of Turaga Dume’s political enemies made him furious inside. He slammed the gavel on the desk.
“Meeting adjourned,” Turaga Dume said. “We will discuss this later.”
“No, Dume! We need to discuss this now! This is an important issue, and you’re just letting it go! The future of the city is at stake!” Vakama snapped, standing up and slamming his hand on the table.
“I said, meeting adjourned. Or did you not hear that the first time?” Dume responded, the edge in his voice unmistakable. Dume started to walk out of the door, but just as he was about to step out of the room, a bolt of ice hit him straight in the back. It instantly enveloped him in a layer of ice, and Turaga Nuju used his Kanohi Matatu to telekinetically move him back into the room.
“No, you’re staying here,” Kopaka snapped. His blizzard blade was emitting wisps of ice. “You’re giving us answers. Why did you just run off yesterday after Nuhrii died?”
Turaga Vakama used a fraction of his power to melt the ice around Turaga Dume.
“Speak,” Vakama said.
“I went home to contemplate,” Dume responded. The tone in his voice did not convince the Toa all that much. “About what had gone wrong.”
Turaga Vakama grew a little suspicious of his response, but quickly brushed it aside.
I don’t know whether he’s telling the truth or not, Vakama thought. He’s been acting suspicious lately.
“And then?” he asked. “What happened after Onewa showed up?”
“We were discussing the events of the day and why it had happened. We were also debating potential solutions to the crisis at hand.”
“Couldn’t you just … do that debating with us?” Turaga Whenua asked. “Why did you choose only to tell Onewa?”
“With the understanding that at least one of us will be prepared to address the crisis at our next meeting.”
“What happened after … your little meeting?” Turaga Matau asked.
“Onewa complained of some bodily aches. I sent him on his way, thinking he needed to get rest. I do not know what happened after that,” Dume responded.
“None of this makes any sense,” Jaller said. “Why would the culprit kill members of the other party to seem like they were in our favor, and then kill members of our own party?”
“Whoever’s doing this clearly has an aim of rising to the top,” Raanu said. “Someone’s trying to cheat the system by establishing a dictatorship.”
“Let’s end the meeting here,” Turaga Dume muttered. “Best not to get into the specifics of what happened. It could be too disturbing.” Turaga Dume got up from his seat, and walked out the door. This time, Kopaka let him go.
“He seems awfully eager to leave,” Vakama muttered. “He’s been acting weird lately.” With that said, the rest of the Turaga walked out of the room, leaving the Toa to ponder in their own thoughts.
Few Hours Later
Turaga Dume sat at his table and flipped the object in his hand over to see the other side. It looked like a timer of sorts, except it was connected to three miniature versions of exploding Kanoka. The Kanoka disks were wired together and to the little clock to form a timebomb.
Turaga Dume had tested many prototypes in his backyard, but they did not work out too much, instead producing only a mini explosion. He was sure this version, after a lot of trial and error, would achieve its intended purpose.
“This is it,” he muttered to himself. “There’s no turning back now.”
He carefully set the timer on the bomb to fifty minutes.
00:50:00
He pressed the start button and placed it carefully in a small cardboard box. To conceal it, he placed some random papers in the box. He made sure to silence the timer, and closed the box. The Turaga of Fire got up from his chair and opened his house door. Before stepping out, he glanced back at his house one last time, as if he was leaving forever.
He tucked it away inside the seat of his modified Cendox V1 and revved up the engine. The decision he was about to make was about to change his life forever.
He was going to assassinate Vakama.
00:34:00
Turaga Dume arrived at the council building, package in hand. He went straight to his office and sealed up the box with tape.
No time to waste, he thought. If time runs out and I’m still with the box, I’m dead.
He quickly pulled out his radio dispatcher and contacted the Ta-Matoran courier known as Sarda. Within minutes, he showed up in Dume’s office.
00:29:00
“What’s the matter, sir?” Sarda asked. “Who do I need to deliver to?”
“Take this package,” Dume said. He let out a small sigh. “Deliver it to Turaga Vakama, and fast. He needs it within half an hour.”
“Did he … request it, sir?”
“I’m the one sending the package. Just do it.”
“As your wish, Turaga.”
Sarda took the package and promptly left the room, given explicit orders to deliver it to Vakama within half an hour. He desperately wanted to please the Turaga, because he needed a pay raise. He lived with Defilak, his old Le-Matoran friend from Karda Nui. Defilak worked as a software engineer for the RCF, but the pay was hardly enough to make ends meet, especially as the RCF was being moved into a negative light in the eyes of the public.
00:01:00
Sarda hopped off his Cendox and parked it in front of Turaga Vakama’s house. It was very modest, but it appeared to be a snug house. It was a roughly half hour drive from the council building, being in one of the farther sectors away from the council building.
Glad I made it within the timeframe, Sarda thought with glee. Now I’m definitely gonna get the pay raise.
He turned off his bike’s engine and walked up the Turaga’s steps. He rapped on the door with his knuckles and waited. Turaga Dume wanted Sarda to give the package directly to Turaga Vakama.
He knocked on the door once. No response. So he waited.
00:00:30
He knocked on the door another time. Still no response. He waited a bit more.
00:00:12
He knocked on the door one last time. Finally Turaga Vakama opened the door.
“What brings you here, Sarda?” Turaga Vakama asked.
“Turaga Dume wanted to give this package to you,” Sarda replied, holding out the package.
00:00:03
Turaga Vakama took the package from Sarda’s hand and started to close the door.
00:00:01
Sarda started to walk down the stairs. While he was doing so, he heard a loud bang and a huge explosion. A huge ball of fire shot up into the sky, and it was the last thing he ever saw.
00:00:00
4 Likes
welp sarda and vakama are dead
2 down , 4 to go
this is getting really good, your really good at writing. This has the feel, the tone the everything, this feels like a bionicle novel written my farshtey himself
GREAT work!
1 Like
Thank you!!! 
1 Like
Hey guys, here’s chapter 10! Sorry for the delay, been really busy with high school this past week.
Enjoy!
Chapter 10
It was exactly 29 minutes later.
Turaga Dume stood on the balcony of the council building, the one facing the southern sectors of the city.
He saw a giant ball of flame rise up, followed immediately by a loud explosion sound.
It has been finished, Turaga Dume thought. Turaga Vakama is dead.
He rested his arms on the ledge of the balcony and buried his Kiril in his hands, as if in worry or perhaps, even surprisingly, regret. He closed his eyes in self introspection.
Do you want your plan to succeed or not, to become the supreme dictator of New Atero? a voice in his mind asked him. This is no time to experience regrets. Whatever is done, is done. Come on, greatness awaits. You cannot let earthly feelings get in your way!
Turaga Dume felt the rush of sudden anger build up inside him. He let out a scream and smashed a nearby flower vase. He incinerated the remains with his flame power, channeled via his scepter.
It was for the better, Turaga Dume thought, trying to mentally console himself. The flash of rage momentarily stole his breath, so he staggered back, trying to recollect his thoughts and calm down. Some sacrifices must be made to achieve goals. Goodbye, dear friend.
A small tear rolled down his mask, but he quickly wiped it off with an armored hand. He walked back into his office from the balcony, and picked up the remote. He clicked on his telescreen, and flipped channels until he found the channel he was intending to watch.
“BREAKING NEWS: THIS JUST IN: TURAGA ONEWA FOUND DEAD IN ALLEY IN NUVA SECTOR, BOMB BLAST GOES OFF IN LHIKAN SECTOR,” the news headlines read. That set of headlines was quickly replaced with a new set of headlines:
“TURAGA VAKAMA’S RESIDENCE BLOWN UP IN BOMB BLAST, TURAGA AND ONE TA-MATORAN AMONG DEAD.”
This was all he needed for confirmation his plot to assassinate his rivals had succeeded. Just as he was reflecting on what had happened, his office door opened.
Raanu entered the room.
“Well, well, well, look who we have here,” Raanu drawled. “If it isn’t the murderer himself.”
“What do you mean?” Turaga Dume asked, indignation quickly rising.
“Uh-uh, don’t tell me you don’t know,” Raanu sneered. “Tell me something else.” The smirk on his face was really getting to the old Turaga.
Turaga Dume stood up, his chair sliding and slamming into a cabinet. He pulled out his scepter. Instantly, the electricity and tension in the room intensified. In response, Raanu pulled out his revolver and aimed it straight at Dume’s face.
Turaga Dume shot a look of pure venom at the Agori as he dropped his scepter and raised his hands. Raanu, while keeping his gun trained on Dume, slowly walked over to the door and made sure to lock it.
“Talk,” Raanu said, the smugness on his face infuriating Dume more and more by the second.
“Why? You’re going to kill me here and now. You’ve already figured out my secret, what’s the point of me telling you anything else? Better to keep the rest of the secret with me to my grave,” Dume responded. He showed no signs of backing down in the intense faceoff. In the background, the news report was still playing on the telescreen.
Raanu lashed out and sent one powerful punch straight at the old Turaga, which sent him sprawling across the room. However, the Turaga of Fire quickly got back onto his feet.
“Look, Turaga, there’s nothing to hide from me. I know everything you did, including how you cleverly disguised yourself and killed Onewa last night. I also know it was you that built the bomb to kill Vakama, and you also got rid of an innocent Ta-Matoran in the process,” Raanu said.
“What … else do you know? Dume asked, incredulously.
“Oh, I know every single thing you did. And not to mention, I’ve figured out your plan already. It’s game over for you,” Raanu taunted.
“Explain to me,” Dume demanded. As much as he felt anger towards Raanu for blackmailing him, he also felt intense curiosity as to what extent of his plan was uncovered by Raanu.
“You placed a call for RCF squadron 1 to follow Onewa last night, did you not? The only way I found out about the attempted dispatch was because I had managed to gain admin access to the neural network connecting the entire RCF. I saw the attempted dispatch pop up for squadron 1, so I approved it. The drones I sent to the area uncovered everything. Even if they didn’t see you directly, they picked up your voice and saw how you shot Onewa in the head. I saw this through the neural feed the drones were broadcasting to me via the network, and became extremely suspicious of you, so I decided to follow you back to your house, covertly, to see what you were up to. I did some snooping around in the backyard and found a bunch of charred up and burnt bomb prototypes lying across the grass, so I figured that you were making a bomb. I guessed that you were going to target Vakama this time, because of how he called out your suspicious behavior during today’s council meeting. So as soon as you got off your bike and parked it and walked into the building, I followed you upstairs. I heard you summon Sarda to your office, so I quickly ran back down to the parking lot. I found Sarda’s Cendox and rigged it with a camera that I hooked up to RCF Squadron 7. And I know why you targeted Sarda, too,” Raanu said.
“Why is that? Why did I target Sarda, then?” Dume asked. “Why did I pick him, and no other Matoran?”
“Because you knew Sarda lived with Defilak, so you can forcefully incriminate Defilak for a crime you did. Don’t think I’m that stupid, you despicable being,” Raanu sneered.
I’m left with no choice. I have to kill him here, Dume thought. But only after I hear him out.
“You’re a clever one, aren’t you?” Dume spat, venom lacing his voice. “Always one step ahead of the game.”
Raanu continued. “I saw the entire bomb blast, recorded through the eyes of my fightbots. You thought they were yours, but the moment I hacked into the administrator console they were mine. Game over, Dume, you’re going to prison now. Rightfully where you belong.”
“You know, one other unlucky fool to cross my path said the same words. You’ll end up just like him, I’m afraid.”
Suddenly, an idea lit up Raanu’s face.
Oh, no, no, no, I’m not done with him yet, Raanu thought with a smirk on his face. Not at all.
“Tell you what, grandpa: I’ll keep quiet about what I witnessed, under a few conditions. You have my word I won’t go back on my promise.”
“What are … those conditions?”
“Number one. You have to give me 500,000 widgets directly from New Atero’s central bank. I don’t care how you do it, but it has to reach my hand no later than tomorrow night. If you don’t, I’ll personally reveal the truth to the public.”
Five hundred thousand widgets was a mind boggling amount of money, especially since money was held in very high value especially economically, but also societally.
“And?”
“Number two. If the first condition is met, I’ll help you eliminate the rest of the Turaga.”
“What’s the catch?”
“We both have to have a joint dictatorship over New Atero.”
No, this can’t be happening, Dume thought. My plans have all gone out the window. I’m checkmated.
“So, what’s the decision? Remember, if you agree to my plan, you’ll achieve your goal of having your enemies taken care of, and I’ll achieve mine by being the dictator of New Atero. Also you can be one too. I’m not gonna withdraw the offer so soon yet, so think about it,” Raanu offered, a grin on his face. That grin was dripping with malice. “No pressure.”
Dume thought hard for a couple of seconds.
I don’t trust him, Dume said to himself, trying to quell his internal conflict. I suspect he’s doing something foul behind my back. He may try to pull a stunt on me, and I don’t want that to happen. But what choice do I have? My entire secret was found out, and if I don’t agree, he’ll expose me. My ambitions will be ruined, and I will be left to rot in a dirty, damp, stinky prison cell for the rest of my miserable wretched life. Or even worse, I’ll be put to death by the very beings I had once controlled. I have no choice. I have to accept it, otherwise it’s the end of the road for me.
After a few minutes of contemplation, Turaga Dume finally spoke up.
“Deal.”
2 Likes
Dang it Raanu!!
i love this soooo much
Oho! Things are gonna get interesting!
also nice job, I’m really liking where the story is going.
Chapter 11 is finally here! This is a short one, especially compared to the last few, but I hope you enjoy nevertheless! 
Chapter 11
Ever since Defilak moved into New Atero after the reformation of Spherus Magna, he found city life hard to adapt to. He had been used to fighting for what was rightfully his, in his innumerable days living in the inhospitable undersea settlement of Mahri Nui, carefully monitoring air bubbles to make sure that there weren’t too few of them that ensured that that night was going to be their last. It was painstaking work, having the hydruka harvest the airweed for the precious air bubbles that their survival once hinged upon.
The Le-Matoran thought back to the darkest chapter in his life, when six now long-lost beings called the Barraki invaded their home to search for the Mask of Life. He recollected a time when he almost lost his friend Sarda to the jaws of the vicious shark-like Barraki called Pridak in the deepest, darkest caves of The Pit. He thought of a memory in which the Toa Mahri promised to help them out and save them from the Barraki. He then pondered where the Toa Mahri are now, and what happened to them.
However, when he moved to New Atero shortly after the Reformation, when it was still a fledgling city founded not too long ago by the Turaga, Toa Tahu, and Toa Gali, he was surprised at how neat and orderly everything seemed to be, at least on the top. He could visit stores and have all the resources he needed within walking distance of his residence, and he could travel in relative safety without having fear of being killed by some organism, being or other thing. However, this new sense of freedom seemed really alien to him, as he was a survivor of horrible and traumatic events past. As such, he had a really hard time adjusting to city life until recently, when he landed a job as a software engineer for the RCF. The pay was hardly enough to sustain a decent living, but he loved to program and tinker with materials, so the job was a win for him. His profession as a software engineer helped to ease his worldly worries and gave him something to divert his attention to, anything other than the squalid conditions he was living in. His meager pay and Sarda’s lowly job as a courier did not help them much, but they still tried to make the best of what they had, and tried to live like happy roommates as best they could.
This thought brought his attention back to the real world. Sarda had been gone for quite a long time now, and usually Defilak saw that he arrived home much earlier than this hour. It was unusual for either of them to be gone from home for this long.
“Where’s Sarda? It’s been more than 6 hours since he’d been called for his ■■■■■,” Defilak muttered to himself, growing tense. He tried calling Sarda’s mobile device several times.
This mobile cell number is switched off, come again another time, the automated voice on the other end of the line kept on telling him.
“■■■■ it,” Defilak grumbled. “The firespitter’s worrying me. Why can’t he just pick up? Where in Karzahni even is he?”
Just as he said that out loud, there was a loud rapping on his door.
“RCF, OPEN UP,” a flat, monotone voice stated from the other side.
Defilak cautiously sidled up to the door and opened it carefully. He did a double take when he saw who was on the other end. He clutched his electro blades, ready to use them when the time came. He saw two RCF drones standing in front of his doorway.
“TARGET FOUND. HOLD YOUR ARMS UP,” one of the robots said. “UNDER SECTIONS 41 AND 53 OF THE SPHERUS MAGNA CODE OF LAW, YOU ARE FORMALLY PLACED UNDER ARREST FOR THE FOLLOWING CHARGES: AIDING AN ACCOMPLICE IN A CRIME, TREASON AGAINST THE STATE, FIRST DEGREE PREMEDITATED MURDER OF A HIGH PROFILE POLITICIAN. YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT, AS ANY AND ALL WORDS THAT YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU AT YOUR IMPENDING TRIAL,” the drone read out Defilak’s rights.
“No – no – I’m sorry – you’ve got the wrong Matoran –” Defilak began to stammer, voice trembling with fear, shock, and confusion. “It’s not me – I swear –” He tried to fight back against the RCF drones subduing him. He was abruptly cut off by the two drones simultaneously stunning him into unconsciousness.
One of the drones hauled him on its shoulder and threw him into the trailer of the truck waiting in front of his house. It was guarded on all sides by RCF patrols.
A loudspeaker suddenly crackled inside the truck. The voice of Turaga Dume came on the radio.
“Congratulations,” Turaga Dume said. “Target successfully captured.”
2 Likes
oh dang
If arresting the software engineer for his very robot police force doesn’t take him down, I don’t know what will. Dume’s luck can only take him so far.
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This story gets more and more intense every chapter!
Yeah, he’ll soon realize he shot himself in the foot 
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ooh this will be interesting
It’ll be cool to see how the rest of the story unfolds
1 Like