As most everyone knows, the Bionicle story serials ended on multiple cliffhangers, as Greg was not able to continue them. I don’t know of any fan project that has actually set out to finish the serials. So that is what I aim to do. Not just finish the stories – I aim to finish them as I feel Greg would’ve. So that means taking into account things Greg said he might have done, including building up to an eventual Great Being Civil War.
This one was the hardest to write so far, and has taken me the longest. This is actually my second attempt at continuing the Red Star story; the first I wrote years before this project. It can be read here, if you’re interested. It built up a few story ideas that I’ve long since scrapped, and didn’t really delve into many aspects of the Star that were begging to be explored.
Previous stories in this project:
(Fun fact: I was going to name this story ‘Star of Death’ like the original, until I realized all my stories so far have been “__ of __”)
Where is he?
The Ga-Matoran carefully peeked around the corner, gazing into the dimly-lit hallway. She wished she had the advanced night vision of the Onu-Matoran. Her eyes strained to make out features in the dark, but she couldn’t find the being she sought.
Darn it, where’d he go?
A creaking noise from behind her reminded her that she couldn’t wait here forever. She needed to make a move. Taking a deep breath, she dashed toward the hallway on the other side of the intersection.
A loud clank made her jump, nearly stumbling, almost losing her balance. Her heart pounding, she pushed herself even faster, dashing into the passageway.
There was a door here, and she quickly tried the handle. Locked. Of course it was. She could pick it, but it would take her a moment; she needed to find out what had made that noise first. Mustering up her courage, she peeked back around the corner.
She quickly located the source of the noise that had frightened her: a piece of the ceiling had fallen, now lying in the floor. There was no sign of the creature that had been stalking her. Maybe it was gone.
Then she heard a slight breathing sound, and glanced up… just as a twisted, mangled green figure dropped on her from the ceiling.
Darn it. Why hadn’t she thought to look up?
She jumped back, narrowly avoiding the creature as it pounced. Well, it certainly knew where she was; no use hiding now. She pulled out her electro-blade.
As the creature lunged, she thrust out the blade. Electricity leapt from the blade, striking the creature as it got close, and it screeched and pulled back. The Ga-Matoran took a few steps back, searching for a way to get away from the creature.
The creature lunged again, and she held the blade to hold it back, retreating a few steps further back. There! Another passage, this one with an open door. If she could get there, she could shut the door and keep the creature at bay… at least long enough to escape.
Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, the creature lunged again. This time, when she thrust her blade out, the creature suddenly lunged to the side, slipping past her blade’s defense, and lashed out with a blade of its own, scratching her hand. She yelped, dropping her weapon.
The creature came in to attack, and she just barely managed to duck under its swing. She leapt toward her blade, but the creature slammed into her, knocking her to the floor. Before she could get up, it leapt toward her.
Then, suddenly, another blast of lightning struck the creature. It gave a loud screech, and then fell to the floor, stunned.
The Ga-Matoran turned to look, and saw the source of the attack: a weapon, like the ones usually wielded by the Kestora. But it wasn’t a Kestora that held it, it was–
Water, sinking, drowning… she gasped for air, tried to push to the surface, but her normally excellent swimming skills failed her, as if something was resisting her… through the water, she saw a figure on the surface… a familiar figure, with a hand outstretched… but not to save her…
“Man, this thing packs quite a punch,” the orange-armored Toa who’d rescued her said, lowering the Kestora weapon. “You sure you don’t want one, brother?”
“I like my own tools, thank you.” This from another Toa, his white armor marking him as a Toa of ice, standing behind the one who’d blasted the creature. At his side was a familiar Onu-Matoran…
A few minutes earlier…
“My name is Mavrah.”
Pohatu’s eyes widened with recognition. “Mavrah?” he repeated. “As in, friend of Whenua and Onepu, former Archivist, leader of sea Rahi, Mavrah?”
The Onu-Matoran nodded. “Yep, that’s me,” he said.
“But… I thought you died,” Pohatu said.
“I did,” Mavrah replied. “So, I guess you know my story, then. Your turn. Who are you, and how did you die?”
The two Toa were taken aback by the question. “We haven’t died,” Kopaka said.
“And we intend to keep it that way,” Pohatu added quickly.
“In denial, huh?” Mavrah said. “Or haven’t figured out that you died yet?”
“All right, I’ve had enough of this,” Kopaka said. “I’ve had enough of vague and confusing. Tell it to me straight: what is this place, and why are you here?”
“You really haven’t figured it out?” Mavrah said. “This is where you go when you die. They patch you up, and send you back. Least, that’s how it’s supposed to work. Something went wrong, and they can’t send anyone back anymore; now everyone’s stuck here. Guess that’s you now, too.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” Pohatu asked.
“The Kestora,” Mavrah explained. “They run this place. They’re supposed to fix people. Instead, all they’ve been doing is tearing them apart, trying to figure out what’s ‘wrong’ with them.”
That fit with the twisted beings Kopaka had seen. “That… makes a disturbing amount of sense,” the Toa of Ice said.
“So… does that mean everyone who died is here?” Pohatu asked.
“Don’t get your hopes up, brother,” Kopaka said. “You haven’t seen the way they are now.”
“All right, my turn,” Mavrah said. “How did you die, and how did you escape from the Kestora? They usually don’t let Toa run loose.”
“We haven’t died,” Kopaka repeated. “We were brought here by a teleporter named Gaardus, said he’d been here before.”
“Huh,” Mavrah said. “Usually, no one ever wants to come back here. Well, if you really weren’t revived here, maybe you can help us. I’ve got a couple of friends that have a plan, and we could use your help.”
“Well, you know the territory,” Pohatu said. “Lead the way.”
“Are you all right?” Pohatu asked. The Ga-Matoran simply grunted, retrieving her blade.
“Quilha!” Mavrah snapped. “This Toa just saved you; you could at least say thank you.”
“I could’ve handled the Dunohko myself,” Quilha replied. “Where’d you find a Toa, anyway? I thought the Kestora had all of them. Well, except for that one Sound Toa…”
“Apparently, they came here a different way,” Mavrah replied. “Toa Nuva Kopaka and Pohatu, here to save us.”
“Right,” Quilha said. “Because as we all know, Toa live to save people.”
Mavrah sighed. “Quilha, stop it. They really do want to help.”
“Well, they can start by ‘helping’ us get back to the ghost,” Quilha said. “Maybe he’ll have something for these Toa to help with. And I have things to report.” She started walking down the hallway, not looking back to see if the rest were following.
Pohatu glanced at Mavrah. “What’s with her?” he asked.
Mavrah gazed at the Toa of Stone, a forlorn look in his eyes. “I can’t tell you,” he said. “I promised I wouldn’t.”