BIONICLE Mask of Destiny
Sack of Tajun

Novelizations from Bara Magna

Sack of Tajun

Adapted by Jeff Douglas.

A lone Razor Hawk glided quickly above the desert landscape, intent on its destination. Such hawks were bred over centuries as efficient messengers with a language of signals only a trusted few could understand. Only the Skrall Elites were permitted to send messages via the private system, and rarely at that. Their use was generally discouraged, for the secrecy of the code they used was paramount, and most never even realized this breed carried messages.

But when the hawk came into view of Tuma, the leader of the Rock Tribe immediately knew that this one had not been sent by any Skrall.

Bolder and bolder, the preeminent Skrall thought. Brasher and brasher. And the thought of his head on my blade grows more appealing yet.

With a grim expression, Tuma watched the hawk’s signals closely, doing his best to ignore the resentment burning in his chest.

It makes no difference if they come… he thought. But we will make this fast.

He turned to one of the Bone Hunters at his side, a commander by the name of Tiibur. As one of the greatest among the Bone Hunter tribe, Tiibur had been the first to trust the information of the Agori traitor, as well as the one to whom Tuma corresponded directly when selling information. And as the primary hunter attacking the caravans of Tajun, he was the natural choice to lead the makeshift tribe after Fero humiliated himself in Vulcanus.

“Tell your warriors to remain in place,” Tuma snarled. “They dart between dunes as if our enemies were blind Sand Bats.”

“Bone Hunters are not the cavalry of the Rock Tribe any longer,” Tiibur retorted, “Even when we work together. We roam free.”

As Tuma surveyed the Skrall soldiers hidden in place among the dunes, he calculated how efficiently the Skrall could put the Bone Hunters back in their rightful place. Even from where he was positioned, he could see bickering between the factions. That time will come, he resolved. But for now…

For now they had to cooperate. Such had been made clear when the two leaders first met here days ago, accompanied by a shrouded figure. In hushed tones, together the three had made their plans. And Tuma knew better than to deviate from a carefully constructed strategy.

“You know the plan,” Tuma said, stalking off. “Today the world will see the Rock Tribe march united once more.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Dust drifted over Tajun’s guardhouses as their occupants craned their necks to see a flurry of movement in the desert. Some had been present in Atero a month ago when a similar phenomenon occurred. But those who had a suspicion hesitated for fear of what it may mean. Some exchanged their fears among themselves as they tried to make certain.

In the arena, Gresh spun his shield in a sweeping attack before bringing it under his left arm and firing his Thornax Launcher. Having just arrived from Tesara, he was anxious and antsy, hoping to get a training session over quickly. His city’s elder and Vastus were scheduled to review the Tesara’s defenses today, and Gresh would far prefer to be there to help.

“Will Tarix arrive soon?” he asked the arena overseer who was cleaning nearby. “I want to be home by nightfall.”

“Oh… Were you not told?” the overseer responded. “Tarix’s fight in Tesara with Vastus was bumped up. But Kiina was alerted and she should be here this afternoon.”

“No, no one told me,” Gresh responded, alarmed. “You’re saying I could have stayed in Tesara and met Tarix there?”

The overseer held up his hands. “I wasn’t told until—”

Gresh held up his hand, for something else had caught his attention. Indeed, now the haze of dust was drifting into the arena too.

“Strange,” the overseer remarked, sensing an opportunity to change the subject. “Sandstorms in this region only come north from the Sea of Liquid Sand, and Tajun is fully protected against those. But this is coming from the north…”

He looked at Gresh, but the Glatorian wasn’t there. No, the Jungle fighter was running for the village elder.

“Sound the alarm!” he shouted. “Get everyone out!”

Eyes-wide, the elder took only a second to process his words. “Evacuate! Get to Knee Island!”

Panicked Agori dropped their tools and fled as the first mounted Bone Hunters barreled past the guardhouses. The terrifying sound of lockstep footfalls followed in their wake as the line of the Skrall vanguard emerged from the dust.

Gresh grabbed his weapons and sprinted toward the Bone Hunters, even as several Glatorian fighters and a few Agori ran after him. He took no time to consider that his worst nightmare had been made real, and that Bone Hunters once more rode alongside Skrall. Nor did he acknowledge that he had no hope of stopping them. But he would slow them.

Reaching the first riders, he managed to dismount a few with his blade, easily taking them out of the fight. By some miracle, only a few from the first wave made it past, into the village. But now a second wave was surging forward, this time with Skrall warriors among their ranks.

Skrall had never lost their edge from the war millennia ago and were trained to take out enemies fast. By contrast, every arena style Glatorian were taught since the Shattering focused on flare and drawing out fights as long as physically possible. Few Glatorian could hold their own against the Skrall, and Gresh was no exception.

Indeed, as the Skrall began to raid and loot, Gresh ran to stop an elite Skrall, but the warrior swung his powerful sword into Gresh’s weapons, cracking them. Giving the Glatorian no time to recover, the Skrall shot a Thornax to the Jungle warrior’s chest, which exploded and blew him backward.

Gresh landed in the dirt, dazed. He tried to get up, but the Skrall kicked him hard. Gresh tried to stand, but he lost his footing and fell backwards into a crevice. There, too weak to rise, he lay still. The warrior spared an indifferent glance in his direction before running after the rest of the legion.

Never before had the Jungle warrior taken such a beating, even against Skrall in the arena. Crawling to the edge of the crevice, it was all he could do to look on as wave after wave of Skrall and Bone Hunters marched in, followed by Tuma and Tiibur themselves. Together, the forces tore the village apart. To the Glatorian’s shock, the invaders scoured even the hidden doorways and passages that only Tajun’s higher-ups had ever been made aware of.

Panting and badly wounded, Gresh was helpless to watch as valuables were carried off and houses were torched. Nearly as quickly as they had come, the brunt of the invasion force escaped through the deep crevices of the village.

And in the sky above Tajun where the Razor Hawk had been mere moments before, columns of smoke replaced the storm of sand.