Chapter 4
Fury and Horror
With a last burst of antigravity, Jacob's Gladius finally touched down. The impact was lessened by the A-pods, but the seventy-ton mech still landed with enough force to jar him nicely. "Hostiles detected," Jacob's LAI said. "Initiating targeting protocols." Red auras appeared in his screen, highlighting enemy combatants. Jacob immediately fired a bolt of plasma at the nearest one, erasing it from existence.
Unfortunately, that suddenly made him a major threat to the aliens. The LAI flashed warnings that he was being targeted by multiple hostiles. Jacob gunned his A-pods, rocketing straight into the air, and in the nick of time; several enemy missiles screamed past the Gladius, one nearly hitting his cockpit. Before they could fire again, he let off several more plasma blasts, each one striking home.
"That was too close," Jacob muttered to himself. His comm system crackled.
"This is Quickdraw. I've come under heavy fire and am pinned down. Request immediate assistance." It was hard to believe that this was the same Jimmy Ferguson who only a few hours ago was fretting about being the most vulnerable to enemy attacks. The guy sounded as if he was simply asking for help making coffee.
"Quickdraw, Chrome reads you," Jacob replied, all the while punching in commands for the LAI to locate Jimmy. "I am coming to assist. Standby."
The LAI quickly found Jimmy and Jacob wasted no time in rushing over to his position. Jacob found him ducking behind the wreckage of an enemy tank, and had another one bearing down on him. He noticed that the tank bore a number of deep scorch marks on its body; Jimmy had obviously managed to get some good shots off, but the armor was too durable for such a small laser cannon. Add the fact that its gun looked like it could punch through his own mech's armor, Jacob decided that the vehicle had to be destroyed, and quickly.
Jacob pressed a button, and the two hyperedge blades retracted within the Gladius's arms sprang out. A surge of antigravity launched him into the air and right behind the tank. Manipulating the mech's arms, Jacob plunged both blades into its chassis. The material it was made of was strong, but hyperedge blades were designed to cut through just about anything. Jacob jerked the mech's arms forward, slicing the top half of the tank clean off. By some strange twist of fortune, its crew somehow managed to not get eviscerated in the process.
This was the first time he'd seen the aliens up close. They had a distinctly avian appearance, though he was at a loss as to what the mandibles were for. Jacob allowed himself an amused smile at what could only be expressions of sheer shock on their faces and then opened up with his flamethrower on them. His broadband audio was switched off, but even so he could still swear he heard their screams. For some reason, it disturbed him.
He quickly put it out of his mind; plenty of time to reflect on that later. Jimmy's voice came in over his comms.
"Thanks for the assist, Chrome. Just my luck, I land and the first thing in front of me is a goddamn tank."
"That's what the big mecha are for," Jacob replied. The ground trembled as Alison's Claymore landed next to them.
"Quickdraw, is everything all right?" Though to an untrained ear, Alison's voice might seem wholly professional, Jacob detected an undercurrent of concern. No one wanted to lose one of their team, especially when they were in charge.
"I'm good, Excalibur. Chrome took care of things before they got out of hand."
"Have you taken any damage?"
"Just a slight graze, Excalibur. Damage control systems are already repairing it."
Another thunderous tremor announced the arrival of Jon and his Broadsword. "Mastodon here. Are the bad guys already gone?"
Jacob could hear the smile in Alison's voice. "Looks like it. Don't worry, there's plenty more where they came from." In a heartbeat, she turned dead serious. "Okay, boys, playtime's over. The last of the Sword-classes have landed, so it's time to secure the area. Our objective is to take and hold these coordinates." Jacob's navcomp marked out the area they were assigned. "We'll be joining with Sword squadrons Omicron and Theta, along with the Nazzadi Scarlet Daggers squadron and Engels Chashmal-086, Auphan-144, Cherub-367 and Tarshish-250. Move out!"
#
As he neared Engineering, Severus felt as though his heart was going to beat its way out of his chest. Deep within his mind, some primal sense of self-preservation was all but screaming at him to turn around. Only the discipline that had been hammered into him throughout his years of service kept him moving forward.
The Petty Officer signaled to stop. He looked back at his team, each one looking scared out of their minds and gripping their weapons so tightly he could almost hear the metal creak.
"We're nearing Engineering," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, though in the abject silence that hung around them, it seemed to carry the volume of a deafening shout. "Keep your weapons ready and your eyes open. You see anything, even so much as a flicker of a shadow, let the rest of us know. Understood?"
"Yes sir," they said, voices constricted with fear.
Severus motioned for them to continue advancing. Soon, the Engineering Bay doors stood before them. A few taps on the holographic pad and the doors opened. Darkness, broken only by a few flickering lights, greeted them. Severus growled internally; already things were not going well. Without light, they couldn't see, but if they turned on their rifle lights, they might as well hold up signs saying "here we are!" It came down to a choice of evils, and Severus preferred to not stumble around and make things even easier for whatever might be hiding in there. Activating his assault rifle's flashlight, he stepped inside the room.
The bay had seen better days; wires hung from dislodged panels, workbenches were torn from where they were welded down and debris was scattered everywhere. Severus winced as he and his team treaded over some broken glass, the crunching sound seeming to reverberate all throughout the bay. Nothing came, and he tried to get his nerves under control.
As Severus moved forward, he felt his foot come into contact with something sticky. Aiming his light down, he saw a thick coating of deep blue fluid seeping around him. With sickening dread, he realized what he was looking at: Turian blood. Severus felt his arms trembling as he moved his light upwards, and the source of it was soon revealed.
"Spirits…" he choked out and his two companions made muted noises of stark horror.
The members of Blue team were piled in front of them, mutilated so savagely that it was impossible to tell one body from another and arrayed like a macabre piece of artwork. Limbs stuck out at impossible angles and organs spilled out of shredded cadavers while thick cobalt-colored blood leaked from them, but the most terrible part was the heads placed neatly on top of the pile, their faces frozen in screams of fear and pain.
With difficulty, Severus managed to keep the contents of his stomach down, though the same could not be said for his team. Behind him, Severus could hear the sounds of Grixus and Laelia puking up their last meal.
Laelia was the first to recover. Wiping bile from her mandibles, she turned shakily back to the pile of bodies. "Spirits above, what could have done this? Even Vorcha aren't this savage."
"I don't know," stated Severus grimly. "Get Grixus back on his feet; we need to stay alert."
As Laelia went to assist her comrade, he moved in closer to examine the hellish carnage. A quick look told him that no projectile weaponry had been used in this killing. The Turians had been ripped apart, armor and all. That meant that whatever had done this was incredibly strong. Though the standard armor worn by Turian soldiers was built more for movement than durability, it was still capable of weathering a fair bit of punishment.
As he continued to look over the corpses, he noticed something off. At first glance, it looked like the twisted limbs had simply been broken, but a closer inspection revealed that the unnatural curves and angles were smooth and uninterrupted, as if they had simply grown that way on their own.
It was now plainly obvious that they were dealing with something out of their league. Severus immediately pulled up his omni-tool and sent out a warning to the other teams.
"All teams, this is Petty Officer Severus. Blue team is KIA and we have unidentified hostiles aboard the ship. Be advised, we have no knowledge of their numbers or their capabilities. Continue towards Engineering, but exercise extreme caution. Severus out."
With that, he put away his omni-tool and barked order to his own team. "Form up, back to back. Keep your guns at the ready and look sharp." Soon, Severus and his team were arranged in a triangular formation, ensuring that there were no blind spots.
For the next several minutes, Severus and his team kept their eyes peeled for anything that even remotely looked like a threat. Every shadow could be hiding an enemy, so they were constantly jumping at the tiniest flickers of movement. By the ten minute mark, all three were borderline nervous wrecks, and there was still no sign of the other teams.
"Where are they?" Laelia finally said. "It shouldn't take this long to get here."
Severus was also wondering about that. Red and Gold should have been here by now. He activated his omni-tool's comms and attempted to make contact with them. "Red and Gold teams, what are your positions?"
No reply came. Again, Severus tried to make contact, but all he got was silence. Endless, maddening silence. It was safe to assume that both teams were out of the action.
"They've already been killed," Grixus whimpered. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely point it straight. "Whatever killed Blue team took out the others and we're next!"
"Grixus!" Severus snarled. "Keep it together! Panicking is only going to make things worse."
Just then, the sound of something heavy landing on the floor reached them. In unison, they aimed their guns at the sound's origin. Severus felt adrenaline surge through him, overriding his fear. Keeping his gun pointed dead ahead, he called out, "We know you're there! Come out where we can see you, and put your hands, or whatever appendages you use, behind your head! You have until the count of ten to comply before my team and I open fire! One…two…"
His counting was interrupted by the telltale sound of footsteps, marking the approach of something. They were leisurely, as if whatever was making them was completely unconcerned about facing armed Turians. Severus tightened his grip on his assault rifle, mentally assuring himself that he was prepared for the thing coming towards him and his team.
Then, the thing stepped into the illumination of an overhead light.
The monster, for there was no other word to describe the creature that now presented itself, stood ten feet tall with skin a deep crimson which covered taught musculature. A pair of membranous wings, each as long it was tall, were folded behind its back. Long, tapered hands with five fingers each flexed in anticipation and its fanged maw seemed to be permanently twisted into a cruel snarl. The eyes, however, were the worst part of the thing; they were bone-white orbs that stared with such a malevolent intensity that Severus could not bear to look into them. It took every ounce of his willpower to stop himself from running away in terror.
His teammates seemed to fare little better. He heard Grixus make a strange sound, half whimper and half choking sputter. Laelia made no sound at all, seemingly too petrified to do anything other than stare. Severus didn't blame them; no amount of training could have prepared them for this.
The creature took a step forward, and Severus snapped out of his haze of fear. Pointing his rifle squarely at the creature's chest, he shouted, "Stop right there! Come any closer, and I'll shoot!" His voice seemed break through to Grixus and Laelia as they too leveled their weapons.
If the monster was perturbed by the Turians with pointed guns in front of it, it gave no indication. Instead, it took another step closer, and Severus felt as though it was deliberately taunting him, daring him to pull the trigger. He suddenly burned with anger.
"You think I won't shoot you, you Spirits-damned freak?! You take one more step and I will end you!"
Still, the creature remained unfazed. Another step brought it within arm's reach of the Turians. Slowly, teasingly, it extended one of its clawed hands towards Severus.
"Open fire!"
With that, the three Turians let loose a barrage of mass accelerated bullets, tearing holes in the monster's flesh and kept on firing until their guns overheated. The creature sank to its knees, its chest cavity riddled with bloody holes; nothing could survive an injury like that, not even a Krogan with all their redundant systems.
The monster seemed to disagree.
Right before the Turians' disbelieving eyes, it slowly rose back to its feet. To their further dismay, the ragged wounds their bullets had inflicted began to vanish and were healed in less than a minute. Wet hacking sounds gurgled from the creature, and steadily became louder. With cold dread, Severus realized that it was laughing. The gunfire had done nothing more than amuse it!
Then it struck.
Its long arm became a red blur as it grabbed hold of Severus and tossed him off to the side as though he were weightless. The breath whooshed out of him as he struck a wall and was left slumped on the floor, gasping for breath. Now unable to move, he could only watch as the monster turned its attention towards his team. Grixus was the first to be targeted. He let out a wail of despair and tried to bring his gun up, but the monster was too fast; it grabbed hold of the weapon and tore it from his hands. To his credit, Grixus didn't try to go after it like so many rookies were wont to do, but instead drew his sidearm. Once again, the creature was too quick, and its tapered hand caught him by the arm before could bring the pistol to bear.
Then, Severus witnessed something truly disturbing: the monster bent the young Turian's arm downward, but there was no sound of bone breaking. Instead, the arm curved, forming a smooth crescent. Grixus shrieked, both in pain and horror, before falling to his knees.
"My arm!" he sobbed. "Spirits, my arm!" He began to pull frantically at the deformed limb, as though he could somehow put it back to its natural state. It was soon rendered a moot point; the monster casually took hold of Grixus's head and he began to scream anew. Strange bubbling sounds could be heard and blood began to burst forth from areas on his body. Grixus thrashed about, trying to dislodge himself from his captor's grip, to no avail. Soon, he struggled no more and went limp. With what could only be a sound of contentment, the creature let the body drop to the floor and began to make its way over to Severus, who still had not gotten his wind back.
Laelia, at that moment, went ballistic. The fear of what might be waiting for them, seeing a pile of maimed bodies, being in the presence of a Spirits-cursed demon who shrugged off enough military-grade weapons' fire to kill a Krogan twice over and finally witnessing the death of her teammate proved too much for her. Letting out a keening scream, she opened up with her sub-machine gun at full auto.
"YOU BASTARD!" she shrieked. "YOU MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH!"
The creature growled, clearly annoyed by this distraction. Though the bullets tore into its body, they were quick to heal. Soon, Laelia's gun overheated; without pause, she tossed it aside and went for her own sidearm, cracking off shots for all it was worth. Much like the machine gun, it yielded no success; if their main weapons barely qualified as an irritation, then the pistol's firepower amounted to little more than a tickle. Within moments, the monster had closed the distance and seized her by the throat, holding her aloft with obvious ease. Laelia beat and clawed at its arm, which the creature took no notice of. The fingers of its other hand flexed eagerly, and Severus knew that unless he did something, she was as good as dead.
Staggering to his feet, Severus reclaimed his assault rifle and unloaded a burst of rounds into the monster's back. Slowly, it turned its head to face him, the baleful white eyes glaring at him with murderous intent.
"What's wrong, freak-show? Can't finish what you started?" he jeered, firing another burst into its face. This time, he got a reaction from the creature; it let out a snarl of pain, dropping Laelia and clutching the area the Petty Officer had hit. Though the wound was soon gone, Severus could tell that he had managed to make it angry. Severus gave the Turian equivalent of an impudent smirk and began to circle around the creature, attempting to draw it away from the female Turian. It obliged, matching Severus's movement and never taking its eyes off of him.
"That's right, you ugly abomination. You don't want that trainee you got there. I'm the better sport; a veteran with decades under his belt." He maneuvered himself in front of Laelia and said out of the corner of his mouth, "Get back to the bridge and warn everyone. Tell the captain that we need to get a distress signal out. I'll keep this demon occupied."
"Sir, you can't—"
"Go. That's an order."
Laelia hesitated for a moment before finally relenting. A Turian might object, but in the end, they would follow their orders. "Aye-aye."
She broke into a dead sprint, speeding past the monster. As she did, it reached out in an attempt to stop her, only to receive another blast to face, courtesy of Severus. The monster let out a sibilant hiss; Severus now had its full and undivided attention.
"Not so fast," he said. "Dinner first, then dessert; didn't your mother teach you anything?"
The creature hissed again and began to advance on him, murder etched in its every feature. Severus knew that it had no intention of giving him a quick death; his was going to be a prolonged and agonizing ordeal.
"That's right," he said. "You want your revenge, don't you? You want to rip me open and see what make me tick. Well, come and get me." Since it was unlikely that the creature understood him, he decided to get his challenge across via another burst of bullets aimed at its groin.
The monster looked down at the area he had shot and then back at Severus, its look of incredulity almost comical. Almost. That quickly changed into what could only be unbridled rage. With a terrible screech, the monster attacked, its right hand aimed to take Severus's head off. It was so fast that he nearly failed to dodge it. Severus fired burst after burst at the monster, knowing full well that he was doing nothing more than irking it. He had to last as long as he could; the more time the monster spent trying to kill him, the more time Laelia had to get to the bridge.
The monster lashed out again, and this time Severus wasn't fast enough; it backhanded him squarely in the chest with the force of a speeding aircar, sending him careening head over heels down the Engineering bay. He heard the sound of multiple cracks and a searing pain flooded his chest. Severus quickly took measure of the damage; several cracked ribs and plates, but other than that, nothing.
Hacking out a glob of spit, Severus noticed that his gun and sidearm had been lost during his tumble across the bay. Clambering back to his feet, he unsheathed his combat knife. It was a family heirloom, having first seen action in the Krogan Rebellions and had been passed down through the generations. Time to make his ancestors proud.
An instant later, the monster was on top of him. Severus sidestepped a swipe from its claws and carved a long gash across its midsection. He ducked another backhanded strike and slashed at the thing's legs in a classic hamstringing move. Neither of these injuries did any lasting damage; in fact, they healed even quicker than the bullet wounds. Severus was a bit disappointed; he had known that survival was all but nonexistent, but he would have at least liked to give the monster something to remember him by.
Though the fight had only progressed for a few minutes, it felt like hours to Severus. He ducked and weaved, making a point to avoid getting caught in the creature's grasp lest he end up like Grixus. His injuries steadily became more debilitating and he knew he would not last much longer.
Moments later, the monster finally landed a blow; Severus felt its heavy fist smash into his midsection. He could feel something pop, and a fresh wave of pain coursed through him. He coughed, and a globule of blood was spat out.
"Well, that's not good," he muttered.
The creature, sensing its opportunity, pressed its attack. Stars danced in front of Severus's eyes as the thing's fist clipped his temple, rendering him unable to steady himself. He guessed that he had suffered a severe concussion. That was quickly rendered a lesser concern as another fist smashed into the lower region of his spine and his legs went numb. He fell to the floor, face down.
Steely fingers wrapped around his neck and the Turian was borne aloft like a rag doll. Severus was soon face to face with monster, which looked at him with triumph. Slowly, it raised its free hand with a single elongated finger extended. It now had him at its mercy, and the creature was going to milk it for all it was worth; the finger inched forward.
Severus glared back at the creature and spat, "Go on, get it over with, you freak."
It ignored him and continued to edge its finger towards his forehead. After what seemed like an eternity, the digit finally connected. Every nerve ending in his body suddenly felt as though white-hot knives were stabbing them. It was agony to the worst degree, and Severus wished that his body would just shut down.
A few seconds later, his wish was granted, and darkness swallowed him.
#
Carnage, the Bloodgod leader of Golgotha Pack (or, as Tagers preferred to call their teams, Murder), retracted his finger when he saw his target go limp. He chuffed in disappointment; he had hoped it would have lasted a little longer. The alien wasn't dead, though, just unconscious, which was for the better; the para-psychic interrogators needed live bodies to get answers and as per orders, Golgotha and Jericho needed to capture some high-ranking aliens. They also wanted a few grunts to practice on before they had a go at the leaders. It wouldn't do any good if one of them accidentally rendered the aliens' head honchos brain-dead by being unfamiliar with how their minds worked.
Carnage shifted his grip and inspected his victim. The alien was in a bad way; his symbiont showed him that he (at least he thought it was a he) bore a number of fractured bones, severe spinal trauma and a few ruptured organs. It was honestly amazing the alien was still alive at all.
Guess I was a bit rough with him, he thought. But that's what happens when you shoot a guy in the dick. Still, he had to give the alien credit; they weren't many things that could, or were even willing, to go toe to toe against a Tager, let alone one as powerful as a Bloodgod, yet this specimen managed to hold his own for a fair bit.
Carnage gave the alien about an hour left to live without medical attention. No matter, for as a Bloodgod Tager, flesh was a mound of clay to do with as he pleased; even the worst injury was not beyond his ability to heal if he so chose. Gently, he lowered the alien on the floor and set about repairing the damage he had inflicted. Bones knitted back together, the burst organs shifted back to their original state and the spinal cord was returned to full functionality.
Now that his captive was no longer in danger of dying, Carnage sent out a telepathic call to one of his Pack mates.
Snitch, you hear me?
The reply came almost immediately. Of course, Alpha. What can I do for you?
I took out another alien team, but one got away. Think you can find it?
Snitch was a Dream, a Tager who was made to find things, with senses that eclipsed all other Tager symbionts. Even the thoughts of others were not safe from a Dream's gaze.
Carnage could almost feel Snitch smirk. Can I find it? Please, Alpha, that's child's play. A better question would be how fast can I find it?
Good. Carnage reached out to another member. Creeper, speak to me.
Like with Snitch, the reply came in short order. Present, Alpha. I hear that another group of aliens went where you and I just were. Did they happen to see my little exhibition?
Creeper was a Horror, one of the even less-than savory Tager symbionts. Both Widows and Horrors had an ingrained fascination with the grotesque. Whenever they went on the hunt, you could expect a particularly gruesome aftermath, often setting their victims' bodies up like grisly art displays. It didn't help that merely being in the presence of a Horror instilled primal terror in mortals; even other Tagers felt distinctly uneasy around them.
They did indeed, Carnage replied. Two of them lost their lunches after seeing it. He was willing to bet that Creeper was quite pleased with himself after hearing that. But enough of that; there's a runner that got away from me. I need you and Snitch to catch it. Alive, by the way; the psy-boys need living brains to cut their teeth on. You two understand?
Both Snitch and Creeper promptly declared that they did and with that, they set off on the hunt. A soft moan reach the Bloodgod's ears, reminding him that he had his own prisoner to secure.Carnage smirked down at the alien; he was going to be in for a rude awakening.
#
As his unit made their way to their objective, Jacob reflected that the overall battle was going far better than anyone had dared hope. Thus far, there had been no reported casualties on their side, but the aliens had suffered staggering losses. Though they still commanded a large presence, it was estimated that, in the first hour the mecha had initiated the assault, roughly fifteen percent of all planet-side alien forces had been destroyed. Some pilots remarked that if things kept going like this, they wouldn't even need the ground forces.
Jacob was jolted out of his thoughts as the leader of their assigned unit, Lieutenant Ivan Kuzma, callsign Mad Man, came in through his comms.
"Stay frosty, everyone," he said, his accented voice calm and collected. "We are approaching our designated field of battle. The Scarlet Daggers will go in first, take out enemy armor and pave the way for the rest of us. On my mark, engage and terminate all enemy combatants with extreme prejudice. Mad Man out."
Jacob brought his mech to a halt alongside the rest of his team. The other squadrons and Engels did the same while the Nazzadi mecha blasted off to do what they did best: hit hard and fast and leave the enemy wondering what in the holy hell just happened. Jon's voice came in over the comms.
"Hope they leave some for the rest of us. I came here to do some damage." He sounded like a child who was stuck in line for ice cream and his favorite flavor was almost gone.
"Don't worry, Mastodon," Jacob said. "There's an entire army left. We just need to secure a good landing area."
Further banter was halted as Ivan came on the comms. "All squadrons, commence the attack. Show no mercy."
Omicron and Theta took off in the direction the Scarlet Daggers had gone. Sigma Squadron was quick to follow; Jacob fired up his A-pods and made his way to the battlefield. The Engels took up the rear, no doubt eager to wade into the fray.
A few seconds of travel time later and they arrived at the site. The Nazzadi had already done their damage; Jacob could see the ruined hulks of tanks and other armored vehicles, fried by their mecha's lightning guns. A few still remained, trying to pick them out of the sky and failing miserably. Their soldiers were hardly faring better, launching missiles and other anti-vehicle ordnance. So focused on destroying their current enemy, they didn't notice the other mecha until it was too late.
The Sword-classes and Engels came crashing down in their midst. Some unlucky aliens were crushed underneath their massive feet, their forms reduced to little more than flattened smears on the ground. Before the aliens could register that they had new hostiles, the mecha opened up with all their fury while the Nazzadi mecha stayed in the air, taking potshots at opportune targets.
As Jacob unleashed the power of his plasma cannon and flamethrower, he began to take notice of his surroundings. From his real-time display screen, he saw Jimmy take out a squad of aliens with uncanny accuracy, his laser cannon striking them in their center mass. He saw Alison's Claymore smash aside another squad with a massive armored fist, the force behind it turning them into lumps of gore reminiscent of chunky salsa, but blue in color. He saw Jon's Broadsword scoop up two aliens in either "hand," squashing one like an overripe fruit and hurling the other off into the distance.
The Engels were no less ferocious; in fact, they were even more ruthless than the mecha pilots. Even as he watched, Jacob saw the Auphan snatch up an alien soldier and began to happily pluck its limbs off like a child would do to a bothersome fly. He shuddered in distaste; Auphan's were one of the nastier breeds of Engels, due in part to their temperament; they possessed an inherent sadistic streak and preferred to toy with their prey before killing it. Their pilots might be able to curb that impulse, but totally suppressing it was impossible.
Under this relentless assault, the aliens were soon annihilated. Jacob looked over at the digital clock on his display; the fight had lasted less than half an hour.
Ivan's voice shortly came in. "Good work, everyone. We've now secured sufficient territory to begin landing ground forces. Our orders are to hold this position until further notice. Understood?"
A chorus of "yes sir"s could be heard echoing on the channel.
"Good," the unit leader said. "Once the rest of the army's down, we'll link up with Shanxi's garrison commander and destroy these invaders once and for all."
Cheers now reverberated throughout the channel, and Jacob added his own to the mix.
Codex: Tagers
The product of a merging between a mortal subject and Ta'ge symbiont, Tagers are truly strange and terrifying beings. They are people who can summon a monstrous exoskeleton over their bodies that grant them tremendous power. Physical abilities enhanced well beyond human limitations and a potent healing factor is granted to the host. In addition, each Tager symbiont grants its host a unique power; some serve to befuddle enemies, others to kill in gruesome ways.
Tagers came into being when a group from the Chrysalis Corporation discovered the true nature of the company and broke away, eventually forming the Eldritch Society. When they did, they took numerous documents containing eldritch lore; among these was a copy of the Ta'ge Fragments, which was supposedly penned by the Forgotten One Drazet. It detailed a ritual in which a mortal would be bound with a creature from beyond space and time. Thus, the first Tagers were born and would come to be staunch enemies of the Old Ones and their servants.
In the past, Tagers could only strike from the shadows as the Corporation was too well entrenched in the NEG's inner workings. It was not until the creation of the Demigods that the Eldritch Society could inflict true damage upon it. Presently, the Tagers are considered official government operatives, specializing in black-ops and for hunting down otherworldly creatures that prove to be more than ordinary people can handle. Tagers are organized into Packs (though they prefer to call their groupings Murders) with a dozen members each. Unlike most other units, there is no de facto source of naming; they simply choose whatever sounds good. Like mecha and Engel pilots, Tagers will take callsigns for themselves, often words with darker meanings.
To become a Tager is no easy feat. It involves extreme conditioning, both mentally and physically, meditation and a host of other training, all of which are designed to push a potential Tager to the breaking point. Should one pass these grueling regimes, they will undergo a three-day ritual where they cannot eat, drink or relieve themselves for the entire duration. Should everything go well, they will be bonded with a symbiont and become something more than mortal.
Ta'ge Symbionts
There is no way to determine what kind of symbiont will manifest itself towards a potential host, though some appear more frequently than others. Once bonded, the host can call upon it at will, bringing its formidable power to bear in an instant. The symbiont will also influence its host's personality, causing them to adopt traits that particular Ta'ge possesses.
Nightmare
Heavy Weapons Tager
9' tall
Looking down at you with its mass of uneven eyes, the Nightmare bristles like the machine of death that it is. If your feet weren't frozen in place, you'd run anywhere to get away from it. It has a dozen ways to kill you, but it can't seem to decide how…
The Nightmare lives up to its name and then some. Uncommon and enormous, it stands more than a head taller than most other Tagers and strikes commensurately more fear. Despite its bulk, it is just as fast as other Tagers, though it hits much harder. While it's as heavily armored as the Phantom, what makes a Nightmare more deadly is its accelerated rate of regeneration. It might heal from almost dead to deadly in less than five minutes.
Combined with its significant strength, the claws of a Nightmare make it lethal up close. But it is best known for its deadly Shoulder Pods. These Pods disgorge crimson force balls at targets within a 180° arc of the Tager's front, punching into them like the rounds of a large machinegun. They track and fire together like the eyes of some horrible beast and together they manifest the terrible Mystic Blast. The Pods condense energy into three triangular floating gravity points, finally firing a trigger blast through the center and releasing all the energy at once. It cuts an eight-foot tall, five-foot wide swathe of destruction in a straight line for 400 yards, happily punching through walls and other solid objects.
The Nightmare is a dangerous and bloodthirsty symbiont. Those who are bound with one develop a certain menace and predatory ease, combined with a cold temper and murderous streak.
Phantom
Multi-Purpose Battle Tager
7-7'8 tall
The Phantom is one of the two most common Tagers, along with the Mirage. They are heavily armed, tough, and equipped with one of the most terrifying Limit Weapons of all the symbionts.
The weapons of a Phantom make it deadly all around. A magical electrical blast that generates out of the Tager's forehead, the Arcane Blast fires the equivalent of a heavy round with deadly accuracy. The Phantom's exceptional strength combined with the sharp blades that extend out of its forearms make it a vicious killer up close. Not even aerial targets are safe, as its awful Howl brings fliers to the ground – and knocks other opponents off their feet. Groups of Phantoms sometimes Howl, an unnatural and almost unholy sound, as a battle cry that echoes into the night.
However, it's the Limit Weapon of the Phantom that is most feared, and not coincidentally coveted by many other Tagers. A mass of black tentacles burst out of its chest, flaying the flesh off those unlucky enough to get in the way. Before they return, the symbiont chooses one of these victims as its meal. It drags the screaming victim back into the dimensional cavity from which it came and swallows him whole. This is a little intimidating and it's also an ingenious way to hide dead bodies.
The Phantom's armor and ability to regenerate are both significant, so it can take a beating and still handle itself. It is a balanced organism, useful in just about any situation.
Phantoms are sleek and aggressive symbionts. Those who are bound with one develop an attunement with their body and a confident awareness, combined with a sense of freedom and a certain bloodlust.
Shadow
Stealth Combat Tager
7-7'8 tall
Something that can't be seen, the Shadow is the thing that moves in the corner of one's eye. Spy, ninja, ghost – it has been called all of these and none of them is incorrect, for the Shadow has the mystical ability to disappear at will. As long as it's alive, it can disappear from sight and sound in an instant. Not only is it invisible and inaudible, it leaves no heat signature either, making it capable of open action even in an arcology. Most of the time the Shadow's first strike is from surprise.
Its tools as an assassin are manifold. The needles growing on its chin can be fired as poisoned darts. This organic poison is a powerful, short-term paralytic, meant to disable a target just long enough for the Shadow to gain advantage. Once it is up close, thorns sprout out of almost every striking surface, making it capable of tearing chunks out of vulnerable flesh. Its ability to Multiport strikes a target from up to six different sides nearly simultaneously. However, the Shadow is lightly armored and stand up fights can leave it badly hurt.
The Shadow is a deadly and careful symbiont. Those who are bound with one develop great patience and cool temper, combined with a controlled nature and a callous attitude towards killing.
Whisper
Reconnaissance Tager
7-7'8 tall
Whispers have senses and speed of which other Tagers only dream. Simply put, they see everything – even through walls – and they move twice as fast as other Tagers. As if that wasn't enough, they have a set of foldable wings (a strange fusion of bat and insect) upon which they flit about even faster, using a second set of small arms to carry things as they fly.
A Whisper's weapons are designed for harry and retreat. The whips that extend from its forearms can be used to entangle, disarm, or drag an opponent from the air. Gossamer Bombs, plasmic balls that drop out its chest, burst with a blinding flash of light, stunning and blinding those for thirty feet around. Combined with its speed, a Whisper can create an effective distraction. Moreover, its Razor Wing limit weapon is a perfect exit strategy, carving its way through any obstacles for a speedy getaway.
The Whisper is a delicate but feisty symbiont. Those who are bound with one develop great patience and a cool temper, along with a dogged determination and an amazing eye for detail. They are often voyeurs.
Echo
Amphibious Combat Tager
7-7'8 tall
The Echo is the only truly amphibious Tager that has manifested so far. Whatever the alien symbiont is, it manifests as an otherworldly sea predator, combining what can only be described as eel- and shark-like traits with a humanoid. They are deadly fast underwater, growing a serpentine tail to help propel them.
Though fully capable of handling itself on land, the Echo is most dangerous under the waves. It discharges mystical energy that travels effortlessly through the water, burning foes with a green electricity. The only Tager to truly have what can be called a mouth, the Echo sports a vicious maw with rows of terrible serrated teeth. Its body and extending jaws are design to snap and savage with this mouth, putting even the most feared of sharks to shame. When retreat is necessary, the Echo sprays out a cloud of black oily ink that's dark as night. However, it's when the Tager smells fresh blood that death is in the post. An Echo can smell blood at less than one part-per-million in either air or water. The blood brings out the primal predator in the Tager and it Frenzies. Moving with lightning speed, it tears up anything that has the mis of being in its way
Echoes are aggressive and primal symbionts. Those who are bound with one find themselves drawn to deep water, that they are heavily influenced by scents, and develop both an ecstatic love of instinct and an obsession for chewing on hard or tough foods. Many enjoy jawbreakers and find they can crack them with ease.
Mirage
Multi-Purpose Battle Tager
7-7'8 tall
Like the Phantom, the Mirage is one of the most common Tagers. It trades some of its brother's capacity for bloodshed for those of illusion and deception, but is still nonetheless deadly. It can generate blasts of solid light from the mystical field around its body, punching through targets with the force of a large caliber round. Razor-tipped tentacles sprout from its shoulder blades, lashing out to tear chunks out of those who get too close. But what makes it most dangerous is the fact that the Mirage is rarely where it appears to be. A mystical displacement field makes the Tager appear as if it were a few feet away from where it really is, making it very difficult to strike.
The Limit Weapon of the Mirage can save the day of any pack. It generates a group of illusory duplicates that act independently. The Mirage itself is displaced within the group, there- fore concealing its presence within. The copies can help conceal the numbers of a pack, making it seem as if there are more than there are, and they can be used as cover when a pack needs to escape.
Mirages are precise and cautious symbionts. Those who are bound with one develop precise bodily control and a confident awareness combined with a more guarded personality and a desire to blend into the background.
Spectre
Black-Ops Tager
7-7'8 tall
The Spectre goes places other Tagers can't. It has the mystical ability to pass through solid objects as if they were air. The Spectre's relationship with death does not end with its ghostly similarities. Its touch is mystically cold, leaving trails of frost. Those who've survived attacks often lose limbs as frostbite claims them. Spectres can also exude a putrid mist that withers all living things exposed to it. They call it the Gravewind as it stinks of rot and decay. It helps obscure the Tager and Spectres are often only seen as the shadowy form hiding in an ever-flowing fog. But it also can dispense death in an instant. While normally a Spectre cannot materialize within an object or the Tager will be destroyed, its Phasing Limit Attack is the exception. The Tager reaches into a living victim and becomes substantial again. Internal organs, flesh, bone, and blood are destroyed as they are violently displaced by the materializing mass.
The Spectre is a resolved and aloof symbiont. Those who are bound with one develop a precise nature with an unyielding determination combined with an emotional distance. They often have difficulty forming bonds with those who are not of a supernatural nature.
Vampire
Aerial Heavy Combat Tager
9' tall
The Vampire is in many ways the aerial counterpart to the Nightmare. Like its land-bound brethren, it stands more than a head taller than most other Tagers and is likewise more frightening. It also regenerates at an absurd rate, healing from death's door to your doorstep in only a few minutes. And just plain overall, its physical gifts are better than most other Tagers. But unlike the Nightmare, massive bat-like wings sprout from the Vampire's back. Nearly thirty feet from tip to tip, these wings are capable of carrying it high through the sky. They are death from above.
Everything about a Vampire screams pain. Its Exsanguinating Touch literally causes blood to boil, bursting out of the body of its victim. Those who have been tortured by Vampires typically bear terrible scarring from ruined capillaries and veins rupturing through their skin. The size of pencils but twice as thick, the stingers they fire are covered in inch-long barbs. But their most cruel and terrorizing weapon is the Bloodbath. Dropped from the air, the Bloodbath is a mystical energy bomb that causes internal hemorrhaging to those caught within its blast. Victims cough and vomit blood, while it streams from every orifice or bodily seam – eyes, ears, nose, genitals, anus, and even fingernails. It is a terrible sight to behold.
The Vampire is a sadistic and deadly symbiont. Those who are bound with one develop a need to inflict pain and an unholy thirst for blood combined with the patience of a predator and an arrogance borne of birds of prey.
Efreet
Rare Combat Tager
9' tall
One of the rarest and most powerful Tagers known to the Eldritch Society, the Efreet is a powerhouse of searing pain. Its skin is so hot that anything touching it is scarred. Its mace-like fists beat down walls and it can shoot flame from its mouth like a dragon breathes fire. However, it is the thing's limit attack that is most feared, as it calls down a mystical meteor strike that smashes and burns anything within a 400 square foot area.
The Efreet is a proud and righteous symbiont. Those who are bound with one begin to feel unstoppable and, while they recognize and appreciate the assets of those around them, they believe themselves to be one step above. They also develop a burning hatred for the forces of the Old Ones and Nyarlathotep and find their moral conviction becoming as pure as fire.
Widow
Rare Combat Tager
7-7'8 tall
Black, shiny and terrifying. These are the most obvious traits of a Widow. One of the rarest of all the Ta'ge symbionts, it is even more difficult than usual for the outside observer to consider that this hideous thing is in fact one of the good guys. Named for its arachnid-like similarities, the Widow is the Tager sent when the Eldritch Society wants to take someone or something alive. However, sometimes the Widow has different ideas…
The Widow mimics its namesake in many ways. It spins webs to capture even the strongest of prey. It can grow four extra legs at will, skittering along and over surfaces at accelerated speeds. Five-inch long fangs drip a disorienting poison, putting its enemies off-balance. And when it gets the urge, it can put all its advantages to work, cocooning a victim and holding him fast. The Widow can then play with him at its leisure – or it can reduce his insides to jelly with just one bite.
Widows are scary and monstrous symbionts. Those who are bound with one often develop an affection for dark and concealing places, a patient nature with the cold-blooded distance of a spider, and a perverse pleasure in the grotesque.
Metamorphosis
There are those Tagers who are able to take their union with their symbiont to a whole new level. Embracing their newfound nature given to them by their symbiont, they can become something even more powerful than before. It is a long and arduous process that makes their initial training pale in comparison. Once the Tager is ready, they spin a cocoon around themselves and, over the course of a month, evolve into an entirely new creature.
Bloodgod
Metamorphosed Vampire
10' tall
It is a winged monstrosity, a thing that must have spawned the legends of demons. Where it goes, melted flesh and deformed bone follow. Those that stand before it tremble, for they know that the Bloodgod will ruin their bodies, toying with them cruelly as it does.
The Bloodgod pushes what manifests in the Vampire to a horrific and logical conclusion. The metamorphosed creature no longer simply boils blood, it now controls flesh and bone. However, in order to undergo metamorphosis, a Vampire must have bonded with many of the less savory tendencies of his symbiont. To him, the flesh and blood cry out to him and he must answer their call.
Dream
Metamorphosed Whisper
8' tall
It is a creature that sees all. It lives in a world where little escapes its notice, not even the secrets behind other people's eyes. It is a feisty Tager, flitting across the sky like a dragonfly, refusing to back down even from fights it's likely to lose.
The Dream is what many would expect might come from a more evolved version of a Whisper. It is faster, with far more sensory ability. It even manifests unexpected ways to take in its environment, by looking into the thoughts, emotions, and dreams of another. Of course, that requires a Whisper who is willing to do what it takes to have its symbiont manifest more fully, which is far easier said than done.
Horror
Metamorphosed Widow
It should not exist, a creature so horrifying that its mere presence drives people into the throes of panic. It is an alien arachnid, or something close, that snatches prey from the shadows and disappears again under cover of darkness.
The Horror is the thing beyond a Widow. More of the hideous symbiont manifests, bolstering the creature's web-spinning abilities and poison. However, it brings with it fear so primal that most run screaming from it. Joining further in symbiosis with such a thing is not easy and is not for the squeamish.
Impulse
Metamorphosed Echo
9' tall
It is clearly the master of the sea, a thing that must have been the progenitor of sea monster stories. It slides through the water at lightning speed, carving things to ribbons with its mighty jaws. The things in the water fear, for an Impulse is hunting again.
The Impulse is perhaps not what many would have imagined the metamorphosis of an Echo to be. Certainly, its increased power and further development as an apex aquatic predator are predictable, but its sheer speed is not. The creature is capable of outrageous speed for an organic creature – and develops the ability to teleport to boot.
Inferno
Metamorphosed Efreet
10' tall
It is righteous fury, ready to burn the impurity from the world. Standing ten feet tall with burning wings, the Inferno is a thing that must look like what many have envisioned as the avenging angel. There is little that can stop its onslaught, as the fire that lives within it cleanses the world.
The Inferno takes the abilities of the Efreet and pushes them beyond. The creature becomes a being of living flame, capable of merging with and controlling it in unimaginable ways. However, becoming an Inferno is not for the faint of heart, as the symbiont's demands are not simple or easy. Those Efreets that choose to undergo metamorphosis have accepted their true natures and have been unafraid to set the world on fire.
Memory
Metamorphosed Mirage
8' tall
There is something about it that makes it impossible to remember. It is there for a minute and then it is gone, lost to the ether. It is a creature that lives in the cracks between moments, a thing that exists without leaving an imprint. It is a Memory, the thing that lies beyond the Mirage.
Whereas once the Mirage was a thing whose true physical location was a constant deception, the Memory becomes a thing that leaves no traces in the minds of those it meets. It is forgettable in a way that even technology can't comprehend.
Phantasm
Metamorphosed Shadow
8' tall
It is impossible to see coming. It may have even walked past, wearing a dozen different bodies and faces. However, if it chooses to show itself, death will follow shortly behind. It is the Phantasm, what a Shadow can become if it embraces its true nature.
The Phantasm goes beyond simply being mystically concealed to a world of illusion. It gains the ability to create realistic audio-visual illusions to live in the world. Beyond that, it can even generate mystical disguises for itself, appearing to be anyone it desires. However, there are many aspects of the symbiont a Phantasm must embrace in order to make the change, some of them less palatable than others.
Revenant
Metamorphosed Spectre
8' tall
It will always keep coming. It is a thing that knows no bounds, apparently not even death itself. Shrouded in a ghastly mist, it relentlessly pursues that which is its prey and nothing can stand in its way. It is a Revenant, the thing a Spectre is supposed to be, a creature that has passed beyond.
The Revenant expounds on all the properties of the Spectre. It grows in its capacity to pass through solid objects, to the point where such behavior is instinct. However, beyond that, the Revenant becomes its namesake as it rises from seeming death again and again. However, such a creature sacrifices much in order to become undying.
Torment
Metamorphosed Nightmare
10' tall
It has become suffering personified. While it once was a thing of death and destruction, it has now taken on the aspect of agony. It is perhaps best to run screaming before it, for the alternatives are far too gruesome to contemplate. It is a Torment, the evolution of a Nightmare, neither of which are things to cherish.
The Torment grows into a monstrosity whose sole purpose is to bring pain, suffering, and death to all it encounters. The creature now not only brings painful death through its weapons, it causes agony by its very existence. The perfection of pain becomes what it is and what it loves. Regardless, what a Nightmare must undertake to metamorphose is nothing easy – the Tager must have embraced all of the bloodiest and most menacing parts of the symbiont as his own.
Wraith
Metamorphosed Phantom
8' tall
There is something both threatening and alien in the confident way it stalks. It was once one of the most common manifestations of Tager, though it is no longer. It is a Wraith and there is little that can stand before its might, or any who are mighty enough to force it to falter in its stance.
The Wraith takes the Phantom to the next level in many ways, some surprising. Everything about it becomes more deadly. The tentacles that were always a part of the creature now manifest more fully, capable of bursting out in all directions to claim many foes. However, most unusual, the Wraith become an immovable being, a creature capable of controlling its own inertia in special ways.
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Author's note:
And the latest chapter is now up! Read, enjoy and comment.
Also, I'd like to extend my thanks to KageMCS, lizonjoe25 and Blinded in a bolthole for their assistance in coming up with ideas for my story.