Daggoth

The defenders had worn themselves thin trying to fend off his swarm. Their cities had fallen one by one, refugees fleeing the flames and death like so much helpless prey, which of course they were. The Overmind had sent Daggoth beneath the galaxy to tear at its exposed underbelly, and he was savoring every second of it, drinking in the fear of those he would soon either destroy or perfect.

Daggoth, so distant on Therum, looked through the eyes of one of his infested vorcha (that he had since christened "vorchlings") on the far off plains of Dekuuna. The peoples here were large due to the increased gravity, and his own zerg had trouble adapting until the newly incorporated vorcha gene strains kicked in. The gravity had turned from a hindrance into an asset, as Daggoth bore witness to some of the bulkiest and fastest zerglings he had ever had the pleasure of commanding.

As for Dekuuna itself, it had proven an unexpected delight in other ways as well. The inhabitants, beings known as "elcor" were widely dismissed by the galaxy at large for being large, strange beings with little to contribute in such matters as economy and military. Naturally, this made them excellent targets, for the chance of swift, harsh reprisal was unlikely, and what little resistance they had put up had been easily outmaneuvered and overwhelmed. Furthermore, the planet was one of the richest Daggoth had ever seen in terms of natural resources, loaded with useful minerals, large bodies of water, and large amounts of biomass in the forms of wildlife and plant life. And then there are the people who live here.

Atop a hill overlooking the city of Induun, one of the few left standing on the planet, Daggoth had formed a line of zerg stretching as far as the defenders eyes could see. His host hammered the earth with claw and talon, screeching and roaring at Daggoth's instruction. From below, Daggoth could sense the waves of fear mixed with desperate defiance, in the far distance he could see the lines of elcor warriors, their backs bristling with heavy weapons that Daggoth knew from experience would stagger even an ultralisk.

Then, from the zerg ranks, stepped forward a four legged specimen. Covered in a thick orange carapace, possessed of glowing yellow eyes above several modified slavering slats that had since been torn open by protruding mandibles and lined with gleaming fangs. On their backs bristled six spiney appendages, their bases thick with muscle, a score of detachable venomous quills attached to each of them. These creatures stepped forward with a ponderous kind of malice, standing in front of the zerg lines and looking down on the defenders with both rage and ravenous hunger.

"GURGLING EXCLAMATION:" said the dekuunalisks, their translators still retained to Daggoth's amusement and the horror of their uninfested fellows, "LIVE FOR THE SWARM!"

They charged then, at Daggoth's command, and Daggoth knew there would be no further contest from that planet. He turned his attention to other matters, letting the zerg run free.

From Heshtok, Daggoth had taken all of the vorcha DNA he needed. He could now create vorchlings at will from his hive clusters, and had infused his new brood warriors with their specialized cells. The end result was a zerg brood that would only become deadlier against any specific force that fought against it. While Daggoth would never be able to fully cover any given weakness of his zerg warriors (for that was the purpose of assimilating the protoss) it would make any extended campaign on any planet a losing proposition for the opposition.

Aside from the geth it would seem. The geth were slowly winning the war of attrition on Heshtok. The vorcha, while violent and stupid in many ways, had finally seen that the geth were their best chance at pushing Daggoth's warriors off the planet, and had stopped firing on the synthetics. The result was vorcha warriors throwing themselves into battle against Daggoth, holding back the tide of zerglings with flamethrower and claw while the geth supported them with their pulse weaponry, close range orbital strikes, and artillery bombardment. The combined arms force was dishearteningly effective, and Daggoth abandoned trying to hold the planet once four geth fleets arrived at once, their ships gleaming and deadly. The geth took Heshtok, but Heshtok had only become a distraction, and Daggoth had taken other worlds.

The few non-vorcha Daggoth had infested had regarded Noveria as a world of cutting-edge technologies, and one asari had even thought of it as "one of the best hopes of contending with the Koprulu Sector." So naturally, it had to go. The world was cold and surprisingly heavily defended for what was supposed to be only a bastion of science and incomprehensible corporate interests. The arrival of Daggoth's leviathan had caused all manner of alarms to scream, and word apparently got out that the planet was under attack before the comm buoys were destroyed. Well, time for a change in strategy. It was too late for the comm buoys closest to the Hegemony planet of Yex'por and the volus planet of Daleon, but Daggoth resolved to stop destroying comm buoys. It should be possible to tap into the communciations of these races. They think of us as mindless beasts, devoid of anything save a low cunning. Let them think of us as they please.

The volus planet was… interesting to deal with. The thick ammonia could not harm his zerg, but the same could not be said for the inhabitants, who Daggoth quite quickly learned had ties to the Turian Hierarchy. For the first time since Chau Sara, Daggoth was faced with the turians, who had apparently been paying quite close attention to any and all news flying from the Koprulu Sector regarding the zerg. Their tactics were quite irritating.

They planted mines everywhere. They rallied the diminutive, rotund volus of the world to bomb any and all hive clusters Daggoth established with small, fast-moving craft, and refused to engage the zerg wherever possible, preferring instead to hit his creatures with fast moving airstrikes and distant artillery barrages. Both sides were actively hindered by the overwhelming pressure as well; the turians bore suits that counteracted the effects, while the zerg carapace protected their organs. Only when both sides began ripping away the other's protections that the planet's hostility to non-volus life became all too apparent; battlefields all too quickly became strewn with the horrible messes of zerg and turians succumbing to the pressure.

It was here, as well, that Daggoth learned of whom he soon termed his greatest foe outside the protoss, a being he would privately christen as the Council's Emissary of Death.

Scouring the mind of a recently downed and infested volus pilot, he came across a series of images from Council news sources that caused no small amount of consternation. The volus had even committed some of the news to memory, having apparently watched it over and over again with his fellow pilots.

A bug-eyed, horned creature talked into the camera at lightning speed, and Daggoth drank in the memory.

"…from samples taken from trusted source, have discovered zerg weakness. Zerg capable of rapid, unspeakable evolution to conquer threat. However, test results clear. Weak to concentrated radiation, consequence of heavily mutable gene strands. Advising all units to swap to polonium rounds immediately. Zerg incursion inevitable, by calculation. Incendiary rounds also acceptable…"

The volus's mind faded shortly after that, leaving Daggoth to shift back on Therum, the name of the doctor, the salarian, echoing through his mind.

Solus…

The fight went on, with Daggoth resolving to simply hit the major cities without first establishing a proper hive cluster. While this resulted in a waste of biomass, he could not continue fighting the Hierarchy resistance on what were clearly terms they found acceptable. Sure enough, they were forced to fight in the streets in order to protect their citizenry, and the resistance was unable to last against his brood in urban combat. It may be a different affair against their fleets, however. And I have no way of knowing where the geth will strike next.

Yex'por fell easily, being a jungle world populated almost entirely by helpless slaves. The slavedrivers themselves, the "batarians," proved themselves physically robust, but Daggoth took one scan of their memories and ruled out launching an assault at the Hegemony proper. The Council would ignore it; they are not fond of these beings and could cite their usage of slavery as reason to remove them from their protection. They would simply take the time to shore up their own defenses and make the attack into their space all the more difficult – which means more warriors lost, and more of a chance for the protoss or Reapers to arrive and ruin my efforts.

Reapers… Daggoth knew not where Sovereign had gone, but he was taking every memory, every hint of data that he could on the fallen Prothean Empire. They alone were the beings that had confronted the blasted machines that were still even vaguely accessible, and Daggoth wanted to seek out any and all records of Reaper weaknesses before he tangled with the ship again. Every now and again he would catch hints of the psionic signature, but it was drowned out by the noise Daggoth himself was making as he slowly drove for the heart of the Council.

It was at Noveria, five days in, that the geth showed themselves once more. Daggoth's zerg lay burrowed in snowbanks all through the planet, ambushing vehicles and foot patrols as they passed, forming hive clusters in the most distant regions and pulling back scientists to infest and interrogate. Every time he pulled back a salarian, it was to find further mentions of the Emissary of Death – either regarding his works, personal encounters, or hushed accounts of his time with a shadowy organization known as STG – and Daggoth slowly felt a mounting need to find this Emissary and deal with him personally. The polonium rounds were the only reason the research stations of Noveria still held. Zerglings and vorchlings could survive barely three hits from the cursed ammunition, and the hydralisks were barely faring any better. Daggoth was left relying on the element of surprise and superior airpower, something that was limited during the frequent blizzards. The geth made these issues even more prominent.

Their fliers descended from the heavens in vast numbers, rousing the leviathan from where Daggoth had stationed it. The leviathan tore across the outer atmosphere of the planet, bearing directly for the geth fleet, accompanied by as many mutalisks and scourge Daggoth dared send through the raging storms. The geth responded with fighters and withering fire from no less than four dreadnoughts. The leviathan's carapace was quickly covered with craters at this onslaught, while the mutalisks were left tangling with mobile and shielded targets. The scourge, meanwhile, were eaten alive by the geth's damnable point defense systems, their corpses left smoking far from the geth vessels where they could do no damage. Daggoth quickly saw where this was going, and abandoned Noveria…

…only to strike at Dekuuna, Irune, and Zada Ban. The volus were less than enticing targets, but Daggoth needed to draw the Hierarchy away from their own worlds and begin thinning out their impressive numbers. As for Dekuuna, that had simply been a fortunate find, and Daggoth chose it merely for being the homeworld of a recognized species. That should demoralize the Council's peons. It was simple serendipity that the world itself was so lush and populated with such physically impressive creatures. The dekuunalisks, though slightly ridiculous in Daggoth's eyes, were undeniably effective. He looked forward to bringing them to bear against the turians.

Irune was, in the long term, a lost cause, and Daggoth knew it. Zada Ban, due to its proximity, would most likely be retaken as well, but the goal was not to hold these planets, but rather bleed the Hierarchy steadily of its defenders. Daggoth's knowledge of the turians was extensive enough to know they would vigorously defend any and all incursions of space they had claimed as their own, and by causing them immense casualties for planets he could care less about, he could slowly but surely expose their home cluster to invasion.

Not that I am looking forward to engaging them on their soil proper. They are damnably difficult to panic.

As he began to withdraw, Daggoth was notified of a commotion by an overlord in the system. From a comm buoy circling the Aethon Cluster's mass relay, Daggoth caught another snippet of news, only paying attention when he heard the Emissary.

"…triangulating zerg strikes indicates probable point of entry somewhere in Traverse, corroborated by unconfirmed reports from officials in Asari Republics and insistence of geth; believe Therum primary hive cluster. Defensive campaign unlikely to hold. Attacks increase in intensity. Need to establish initiative. Pushing governments to begin counterattack. Recommend utilization of geth…"

Salarian, my hydralisks will feast on your entrails.

Daggoth left orders for his overlords to continue harassment and expand the hive clusters while returning his attention to the strategy of his campaign.

Asari: centerpieces of the Council's alliance. Able to capture the attention and envy of any and all races that survey them. Infestation suggests minor psionic potential; T'soni is an outlier. All biotics, something to do with their homeworld. Need further captures. Attacking them guarantees swift retribution.

Turians: already engaging in volus colonies. Haven't sent out bulk of fleet just yet. Large in number, intensely militaristic, almost protoss-like. Must avoid direct engagement, keep them on the defensive.

Salarians: worthless, aside from the Emissary of Death, who I will rend limb from limb for his vile polonium rounds. Reliant on superior information and mastery of technology for supremacy. Fragile, large in number, not militarist, fond of the element of surprise. They shall fall last. Aside from the Emissary. Once T'soni is found, he will be next.

Geth: communications indicate the Council is accepting their help, although they are quite bewildered. Not talkative. Military strength unclear. Uninfestable. Impossible to intimidate. Large in number. Difficult to anticipate. Will have to abandon worlds they strike in force, and hit three areas they aren't present.

Volus: amusing. Tendency to explode when ruptured by vorchling claws. Investigate for weaponization purposes. Attack their worlds to draw out the turians.

Elcor: magnificent. Will take all of Dekuuna and give their race the glory they never sought. They will not be laughed at again once they are under the Swarm.

Batarians: they will most likely not help the Council, and the Council will not help them. Can be safely ignored. Attacking them would likely encourage retribution from the Terminus Systems anyway, in addition to the other problems.

Hanar: the Swarm has never conquered an ocean world. Ill-equipped to do so. Saved by their biology. How irritating.

Quarians: may have answers regarding the geth. No idea where they are. Possess an absurd amount of firepower. Taking any alive seems unlikely. Best leave be. Targets separated from their fleet are to be high priority.

Terrans: irrelevant.

Krogan: Physically robust, but too spread out... and the STG is already reinforcing Tuchanka. Not worth it. They know what is coming.

Daggoth surveyed a galaxy map through the eyes of a vorchling aboard a fallen volus ship inside the guts of a leviathan, pondering his next move.

It is important to keep the galaxy off-balance, and to spread as far as possible. I will bring the Citadel itself before You, Father.

"Daggoth…"

It was a whisper, uncharacteristically weak, but still immediately recognizable. Daggoth, enthroned on Therum, gorging on the spoils of his war, froze in the midst of his strategizing. He waited, and a tendril of consciousness caressed his mind once more.

"Daggoth… my son…"

"Father," said Daggoth, pouring an earnest hope that his work would be regarded favorably into his words, "the galaxy trembles at the might of the Swarm. I have spread far, and seen deep, and long for the moment my mind will hum with Your energies again."

"Daggoth..." came the voice of his Father, mighty and thunderous, yet now… sad. And in pain. Terrible, terrible pain. "Zasz is dead."

It was as if a yawning chasm had suddenly opened within Daggoth, rotten earth falling away to reveal crippled foundations. Daggoth searched himself, and found a part, a familiar integral part, missing. Where once there was power and eternity, now there was a gaping wound. His mind recoiled, feeling the kind of loss that only lesser beings, those not of the Swarm, were supposed to experience.

On Therum, the zerg froze. On Irune, Dekuuna, Zada Ban, Yex'por, Noveria, zerg stopped in place and gazed at the heavens. As one, they roared, channeling the loss and rage as Daggoth, and by extension the zerg itself, experienced mortality for the first time.

"Dead?" murmured Daggoth. "How is such a thing possible? Your covenant is unending, You promised it so. What kind of unholy power could break such a promise?"

"The protoss bear filthy weapons against us," said the Overmind, Its voice now filling with rage. "They bear the same energies I wield, but utilized for giving death rather than life. Daggoth…they walk still on Char. I tear through the Koprulu Sector, yet they refuse to show themselves anywhere save at My seat. Would that you, finest of My sons, were still close."

Daggoth felt a swell of pride at this, though it did little to dim the loss of Zasz, a brother he thought would stand alongside him until the universe itself collapsed around them.

"Thank you, Father," said Daggoth. "I too, wish I was at Your side. But Your voice has reached us at long last! My zerg have expanded far. Soon, it may even be possible for Your will to be made manifest amongst us!"

"You have done well, My son," said the Overmind, his tone warm, though a little drained. "Though I fear you may have to return soon with your spoils of war. When the protoss warrior struck down Zasz, his mind linked with Mine. I looked unto his deepest memories, and found what we have been looking for. Aiur. Pristine. Untouched. The heart of the protoss."

"Then we must strike!" said Daggoth, letting his grief be supplanted by righteous fury. "At long last, our journey is at an end! Give the word, Father, and I will gather as much of my brood-"

"No, My son," said the Overmind, causing Daggoth's rage to still. "We are spread too thin. My broods were called, against My will, by some strange terran device to Tarsonis. Our numbers in the Koprulu Sector are thinning. Zasz's brood is lost. The terrans bring nuclear weapons to bear, and the protoss linger on Char, threatening the lives of My children." The Overmind's voice began to shake, grief making It lose coherency. "It is Our grand purpose to consume the protoss, but I consider the discovery of their homeworld a poor trade for one of My sons. What use is perfection if I am left alone to experience it?"

Daggoth remained silent, cursing the protoss for wounding his Father so. Slowly, the Overmind's emotions calmed, leaving only the kind of cold rage that could cause entire suns to wink out of existence.

"We will bring ruin to the protoss," said the Overmind. "You will be the catalyst of My designs. Conquer all. Consume all. Bring the Swarm to the strongest it can be. Then, when our might reaches its apex, abandon this place – bear straight for Aiur. The full brunt of an infested Council sector will be enough. Daggoth… you will be the instrument of My vengeance."

Daggoth shook, a mix of joy and fear of failure soaking into his being. It is one thing to be commanded to consume all for the glory of the Swarm…it is another to do so for the purpose of taking Aiur. It seems I must pick up the pace.

Wait… the Reapers. Father must be warned.

"Father," said Daggoth, "I welcome this task, for it is the most sacred of honors to be the vanguard of Your wrath. But You must be warned – for I have discovered a conspiracy that spans millennia-"

"You have discovered the Reapers," said the Overmind, leaving Daggoth surprised at both Its knowledge and the sheer amount of raw hate he had poured into the word. "Yes, they are an old foe, the Foe that was Promised. The xel'naga sought their destruction, and took pain to make certain We would be ready. The Koprulu Sector's separation was no accident, and Our creators were as thorough as they were desperate."

"What would You have me do?" asked Daggoth eagerly, hoping for some instruction in engaging the only foe that commanded both fear and respect from him.

"Our merging with the protoss was at the behest of one who walked with the xel'naga," said the Overmind, "one who brimmed with an undying rage that gave even our Creators pause. He walks the stars still, somewhere, his designs for vengeance fueling his every step. It was he who commanded that I consume the xel'naga. And it was he who told Me of the Reaper's plans, of places they might seek out to undo the xel'naga's web. Seek Ilos. Seek Feros. Stop this Reaper if you can, Daggoth, but do not cease your invasion. The Reapers are our opposition, but the protoss, for their sins, are our enemies. And they will suffer. Go forth, My son… and prepare to wreak a bloody vengeance on those who would slay your brothers. Grow, and then rally, and then strike."

The Overmind's presence slid away, and Daggoth could sense Its relief as it did so; the Overmind tried not to show it, but maintaining such a connection took a monumental effort. Daggoth was left with two worlds to investigate, and countless planets to conquer.

Ilos. Feros.

Two fresh leviathans promptly had ships freshly implanted in their guts, and Daggoth sent them forth to the respective planets, checking on his position and opposition on every world. Geth reinforcements, artillery strikes, air strikes, minefields…most vexing. All will melt away before the rage of my Swarm.

Using ultralisks and dekuunalisks as shields for his more fragile, smaller broods, Daggoth sent forth defilers to cough up choking clouds over infantry companies, causing their targeting systems (and eyes) to become confused and useless. With a few swift, if costly moves, Daggoth gained rapid ground on Irune and Zada Ban. As the turians began a controlled retreat, laying down mines as they did so, Daggoth sent queens overhead and infested the loudest turians, the ones who were given orders. It should be useful to get a peek into that military machine of theirs. It is unfortunate I cannot do the same for the geth.

Daggoth prepared more leviathans, using his already existing ones to transport fresh troops from Therum and Yex'por to shore up his losses on the volus worlds. Meanwhile, he looked to the galaxy map again and tried to determine further targets. This was interrupted when his leviathan reached Feros, and he sensed something deeply wrong.

The leviathan stopped, hovering just outside the atmosphere of the planet, twisting and grunting in the void. It, too, had sensed something was amiss, though it was outside of its mental capacity to react in any way save vague discomfort and anxiety.

Daggoth directed his full attention to the debris-choked planet below. Feros was a vast ruin, a graveyard for the fallen Prothean Empire, and a testament to the destruction the Reapers were capable of. Daggoth scanned the planet, first with the eyes of his leviathan, then with several overlords that he had the leviathan belch forth from its guts. Neither saw any sign of life beyond the long still and silent ruins. And no protheans walk among the stars any longer. It made Daggoth feel strangely sad. They will never know the comfort of the Swarm, the joy of being made a part of something greater. The Reapers exterminated them, without any promise of salvation that I can see. The galaxy may fear us, and with good reason, but there will be life and peace under the watchful eye of my Father. And there will be love, yes. Under the Reapers, however…

Daggoth felt something stir under the surface of Feros. And he realized why he felt so strangely, yet was unable to see anything with his overlords. He commanded his zerg to land on the planet immediately, and reached out with his mind.

There was something… vast, ancient, and alien living within Feros. Daggoth's mind brushed against it immediately; inevitable considering the consciousness of the creature permeated the entire planet. Daggoth received not only an immediate sense of unfamiliarity and age, but also that of…sluggishness. Of the kind of patience he had only ever known his Father to be capable of. Something on Feros had woken up, and Daggoth was the reason why.

The consciousness shifted, and Daggoth thought he could hear the entire planet creak and shudder as it did so. Then everything went silent, and Daggoth's zerg stilled. Suddenly, Feros went from seemingly dead and silent to very attentive.

The consciousness reached out with the surety and unstoppable ponderousness of a glacier, touching Daggoth's mind and promptly recoiling. Daggoth caught a flash of countless civilizations sitting above the being, whatever it was, and then the vision was lost. Daggoth himself reached out…and was promptly surprised as the Being of Theros lashed out, grabbing on to his mind and pulling it, heedless of Daggoth's pain.

Daggoth trembled, quivered, and then shuddered in his nest on Therum as he fought for control of his consciousness as this creature, ancient, uncaring, and merciless, tried to storm his very being and dictate his mind. Everywhere throughout Council space, the zerg spasmed, went berserk, and attacked anything that was nearby. Therum had erupted into chaos, with even the drones having gone mad, attacking their own hive clusters with their clumsy claws.

Daggoth was barely aware of this, preoccupied as he was with maintaining even simple control of his faculties. Trying not to panic, he recalled the voice of his Father. The warm tone, the sense of family and safety. The honor that his Father had bestowed upon him. Am I to fail so soon after being gifted with such lofty goals? No! So he resisted, drawing strength from memory, and then from nearby hive clusters, draining them of life to bolster his own flagging reserves. This creature, the Being of Therum, persisted, refusing to let go of its prey. Daggoth knew not of what it intended, of what mad desire for control drove it on, but he refused to belong to anyone but the blessed Overmind. And, after eight hours of struggle, in which the Tiamat Brood almost completely lost control of itself, it finally relinquished its grasp.

"Wretched being of filth and flesh," said the Being as it released control, its voice in Daggoth's mind, raw and foreign. "You are unwelcome here, Harbinger of the Old Ones. You bear witness to the awakening of the Thorian. Feros is forever denied to you. Countless feet have walked it, but never shall yours. Fall to your knees, skittering ones, or depart from this place, never to return."

"I do not know what you are," said Daggoth, trying to hide his rank exhaustion, "but your hubris is a hollow thing when coupled with such ignorance. We are the Swarm, and this planet is ours."

"The Thorian is all," came the reply, disinterested and malevolent. "I alone have survived the coming of the Cold Ones, time and time again, their taking of the flesh. You are all meat, and another age of rot will follow these words. The time is nigh, and their vanguard is here."

It was then that the Thorian retreated as suddenly as it had struck, sinking back into the earth, somewhere deep in Feros. And Daggoth became aware of another presence, as unwelcome and surprising as the Thorian, if slightly more familiar.

"Sovereign…"

Somewhere on the planet, T'soni walked the ruins, and the Reaper waited. The Thorian's words echoing through his mind, Daggoth hesitated… and then sent his zerglings plunging on, deep into the ruins, in search of some of the only beings he had ever feared.