Post by StalkerTechpriest on Sept 3, 2023 6:33:00 GMT
Lancar was speed-walking down the hallway, his frantic pace only out-matched by the speed of which his mind was racing.
The Army of the Panopticon. Such a weird name, yet it carried a lot more meaning to Lancar now than it had even the week before. What he saw on Askandar was nothing less than a major national security risk playing out right in front of him, and one that, in his bemused state, had both perplexed and terrified him to his core. He saw what the Synopticon was capable of doing, and from what he knew, allegedly, what they were able to do in a ‘mere raid’. If this was what the Synopticon could do, what damage could the Panopticon, the head of the snake, do when it got serious? The question terrified him. Regardless of the actual scope of the attack, it was a psychic threat, and psychic threats in the Technocracy were never treated lightly.
He was afraid, and he needed to tell someone, anyone, what he saw on that planet, but before he talked with anyone connected with the Huron state, he needed to get allies. Allies which had influence, and ones which the Huron state would listen to, which was why he was going to talk with a very special group of people regarding this matter. At least he hoped.
Lancar approached a closed door at the end of the hallway, guarded by two Stormtroopers; an unusual assignment. They bore the insignia of the Huron Army, yet Lancar felt that it was little more than a cover. In fact, he knew it was a cover; they were meeting in a place that was officially army territory, yet was.. acquired, through a few talks by people far above him in rank. He did not need to do much to prove he was there for important matters; the stormtroopers took in a minute data stream, paired with a vocal code in binharic, and the door was opened, letting the psychomancer in.
He walked into a room that was blank, drab, nearly empty outside of a few chairs and a table, one chair set opposite of two others. It was as much as he was expecting, given the confidentiality of this meeting, yet it was also a little more minimal than he was expecting. He expected to be in front of a larger group, talking about what he saw and his concerns regarding it in front of at least a few more people. It did not matter; he knew his purpose here, and if only a few people were willing to hear him out, then so be it. His grip slightly tightened on his multi-staff as he took a seat, and finding little else to do, waited in silence.
A few minutes later, he heard a noise, and looked towards its source. Two cyborgs, one that looked to be another psychomancer, and another cloaked, yet very official-looking individual walked in through the opposite door. Both bore the insignia of the psychohunters; a human skull, with a third eye on the forehead, crossed by two lightning bolts. This was not expected, but if it was other psychomancers who wanted to hear what he had to say, then so be it. He trusted other psychohunters in particular much more than the average Huron general. Too many of them were veterans of the Skulker xenocide, too focused on xenos than the constant and very real presence of psychic threats. Of course, he hated the psyker more than most; psykers were a scourge at best, a walking virus at worst, and magic the unnatural force of contradiction and annihilation. Both deserved eradication.
The secrecy was a little off-putting, he thought, as the two other cyborgs sat down. Why did he go through all of these efforts just to meet with his own organization?
“Psychomancer Lancar,” the other psychomancer began, clearly reading off a small list inloaded to his short-term memory, his voice augmented to be unnaturally low and drab. “Seven year member of the psychohunters, with eight years of previous military experience as an enlisted; born and raised on the planet of Arikan as a Technomancer, an ardent believer, and raised as a member of the Arikan Technomancer Hall during childhood; family was murdered by Tar’ell sympathizers during a staged riot in Arikan by a rampant psyker, smuggled into Arikan by those very same Tar’ell sympathizers… I believe that is who we are talking to, correct?”
“That’s who I am…” Lancar responded. “I was told I was going to be meeting with some… important people regarding Askander?”
“That we are. Our names are not important, however do be aware that we are representatives of the council in charge of the Psychohunters in the Ancerious colonies.” The more official cyborg talked, who Lancar decided to label Doe, just for easier mental organization.
“We were informed, at least in part, of your experience on Askandar. We understand that it was an attack by an organization known by most as the Army of the Synopticon, allegedly a military strongarm of the Army of the Panopticon, on a QAI known as Elwar. Is this correct?” Doe asked.
“Yes it is.”
“We also understand that this Army of the Synopticon, and by extension the Panopticon, are both psychic cults.”
That was something that Lancar did not know. “They are regarded as cults now?”
“Yes, as all psyker organizations deserve to be labeled as,” the other psychomancer quipped, henceforth labeled ‘Psycho’ by Lancar. “Now, this conflict on Askandar, we have… a bounty of knowledge regarding it from neural recordings. We are aware that the fighting there was fierce.”
“It was. We took some casualties, more than I thought we would.”
“What we do not have, however, is exact information on what that fighting entailed,” Doe began, “and that is where you come in. You view this as an urgent matter that should be addressed quickly. We have the same viewpoint. So, with that being said, before we take this to the higher echelons of the Huron government, we need to know exactly what happened, from a psychomancer’s perspective. Every relevant detail.”
Relevant details were certainly not scarce, yet as Lancar went into his memories to establish what was truly relevant information, he remembered the battle itself, in rather vivid detail; He remembered the initial bound to the planet’s surface, literally hot-dropping out of a falling corvette onto the barren surface below; he remembered traveling quickly to the lift, spirits high amongst his men and even the hunter-killers that accompanied his force. The relatively good-nature of the encounter, however, was very short-lived, as the battle did not truly begin until he got underground.
They had to protect some laboratories, and the flank of what he believed to be a force of magic users.
“Magic? That was not mentioned by your troops.” Psycho questioned,
“Yes, and their existence was a minor one, too far away to affect where we were. The Shemesh, I believe they are called. The nations there were varied, arguably too varied. Regardless, that is not too important. They held their side.”
“And what of yours?”
“I’m getting to that.”
He remembered what he saw on his Trans-Dimensional Radar, before the battle truly began. With interdiction being employed, its use was limited, however he could still see the faint traces of psionic energy on its outer scope. It was not much, yet it was enough for him to know their employment was accurate; they were indeed against a psionic foe, and to that bit of information, he felt confident, even somewhat ecstatic. He could not wait.
Then one of Elwars constructs was thrown through the reinforced door, so hard it was like an explosion, and an Abyssal Golem led the charge into the room, followed closely by Synopticon troops.
“Ah, that… thing. It didn’t look too intimidating.” Psycho replied, not taking the Golem quite as seriously. Lancar frowned in disappointment.
“You weren’t there. Whatever that thing was, it had enough psionic influence to make my Psychohunters hesitate. They had to retreat into their minds just to repel it! Even if it was only for a second, that is not fast enough. They could have been killed, or worse, turned against us. It tried to terrify my men, ravage their minds with fear and paranoia, and it nearly worked.”
“And what made you believe it was trying to wage psychological warfare on you and your troops?“
“I heard it,” Lancar began, remembering his own experience as if he was reliving the whole event. He could still hear it. “My training, augmentations… everything I have done to ensure that the psyker could not affect me, and I could still hear its whispering, like a malevolent demon in the darkness. My men retreated into their minds for only a second, but that was enough. I can only imagine what kind of hallucinations my men experienced.”
“And you think this was significant because?” Psycho pushed.
“My men do not retreat into their minds because some lowly psyker from a back alleyway decided to play a mind trick on them. They are not even expected to do that against the average Tar’ell wizard! They are expected to hold their own against some of the most powerful psykers the Tar’ell and Tuvak have to offer, and yet they were forced to retreat into their minds from a fucking psychic slab of meat! A fucking demented meat puppet!”
“And yet they resisted.” Psycho pushed back.
“Barely!” Lancar scoffed, “Every second they took to push that thing from their minds, was one second they were not engaging the Synopticon troops flooding into the room. In any other situation, they would have been dead, right there!”
“Your force had null guns and null fields. Did they not affect it?” Doe inquired.
“Some, but not nearly as much as expected. It certainly reduced its effects on the troops, but… nothing else happened without physical intervention,” Lancar began, the other two psychohunters seeming to brace for what they foresaw as a mini-lecture. “You are both aware that psykers in our home galaxy work on a two-way system; energy enters the mind, and is then released naturally back into the psion field. It is that energy release that allows their ‘soul’ and their mind to exist in that state, and allows them to use their psionic abilities. Our null fields are designed to prevent that manipulation, so it cuts off one part of the cycle at least, mostly the energy’s exfiltration, or pushes the psion field away at worst, with the larger or more concentrated fields.”
“Yes, we are aware of that.” Psycho quipped.
“I’m not finished,” Lancar stated, giving a sidelong glare at Psycho, “You are also aware of the physical effects that may entail; extreme migraines, disorientation, numbness, even some cases of dissociative identity or exploding head syndrome. This thing seemed to experience none of that. It didn’t even flinch!”
“Well… yeah. It’s a giant blob of flesh.”
“Is it now?” Lancar replied, “your attempts at jesting are not appreciated.”
“Just pointing it out, friend.” Psycho replied, a hint of venom in his voice as the two tried to stare each other down. There was a time for jests, and then there was this guy, who thought it funny to joke about a psionic berserker nearly getting the upper hand. The two stared at each other for a few moments, before a slightly annoyed cough came from Doe.
“Right… the pysker. It displayed abilities both familiar and unfamiliar.” Doe prompted, with Lancar quickly re-adjusting his attention.
“Yes it did. Although it is only a theory, I believe whatever this psyker was, was controlling the Synopticon forces in close proximity. I am otherwise unfamiliar with the true capabilities of this particular psyker, as it was dealt with relatively swiftly.”
“Are you aware of the effects of null technology on it?”
“Partially. I did not directly observe it, though after-battle data feeds gave me a glimpse. Both darts and null beams were used against it simultaneously, and although the null guns at least appeared to have some effect, there simply is not enough, at least for me, to draw any conclusions from it outside of diminished effects. The darts were… randomized in composition, something I ensured, as to point out any specific effective materials from our current inventory. We do not have a material that is anti-psionic in nature yet in the Ancerious galaxy, and there isn’t one, at least that I know of.”
Psycho, having seemingly gone over his joking attitude, nodded in disappointment. “Unfortunate. Yes. Given the data feed from your men, they seemed to do the job, at least. This… watchman, whatever it is, died rather quickly. As it should.”
“As it should… although I maintain that they did not do their job well enough. That psyker should have been suffering more ill effects from concentrated null fields. You know, the effects I previously mentioned. I won’t bring them up again, you already know them.”
“Your concern is noted.”
“So, tell us, this… abomination, that formed after what was assumed to be the death of a flesh blob?”
“Ah, that… banshee. I can still hear its screams…” To Lancar, that was certainly the case. He remembered the exact moment the flesh died, and from it came… whatever that thing was. Perhaps he was fortunate that it did not have a chance to really do anything, thanks to the reaction speed of his troops and allied support. Very fortunate indeed.
“Whatever it was, the null guns appeared to have a significant effect on it. It did not die because of it, but it certainly was not able to do what it was meant to do as a result.”
“Would you call that effective?” Doe inquired. Lancar thought for a few moments before responding.
“Effective enough, though effective overall? I would not say so. I am assuming it is almost purely a psionic being, and if that is the case, it should have suffered far worse.”
“Are you sure? Have you seen the effects of null technology on the… psionic beings in our home galaxy? You know which ones I refer to.”
“A little, although I am not one to combat supernatural beings of the psionic field, my focus being on the psyker. Regardless, I have studied thoroughly on the subject, as is my speciality as a psychomancer, and I believe our null technology was not as effective as it should have been against that… thing.” Lancar concluded, prompting a light nod from Psycho, who gauging from his reaction, may have had some previous experience with said supernatural beings.
“Well… you are correct in your assumption on that part, I’ll give you that.”
--
“So… you believe our null technology and anti-psionic training is insufficient? After your experience?” Doe inquired, in a manner as to conclude what they were told.
Lancar nodded strongly, a stern look in his eyes. Had he had their attention after all?
“Yes. The psion field in the Ancerious galaxy appears to work somewhat differently than how psions work in our home galaxy. Similarly, but still different enough to warrant attention. It has otherwise made our current level of anti-psionics insufficient, and I fear that this insufficiency will give current and future psionic threats in the Ancerious galaxy an advantage over us. We cannot afford this.”
Psycho and Doe were quiet for a moment, clearly taking the time to process what they have been told thus far. Lancar could not tell if they were truly concerned about what they were told; he could barely tell any emotions from them at all.
“And you believe the Synopticon, and by extension, the Panopticon, are major national security risks because of this?”
“Absolutely! With our involvement on Askandar, there is little doubt the Synopticon at least knows that one of us there used null technology, and if they have half a brain they know it is a threat to them. If the Panopticon has a list of nations they need to strike first, if they are considering expanding their operations, our colonies are likely somewhere high on that list for that fact alone!”
Lancar was not exactly wrong, at least in theory. Going by how psionic factions have reacted to them in the past, the Technocracy has been targeted by pro-psionic insurgencies and cults many times before, especially after a public use of null tech. Keeping things discrete or muddled was part of the game they played regarding psionics, a way to keep psionic and magic groups in control amidst the very constant pressure from other, much more pro-psionic and magic nations, like the Tar'ell and the Tuvak.
Perhaps this galaxy will be different, though for the moment, this was all they knew. The attack on Elwars complex was very popular indeed, and because of that, there was tension and uncertainty. They were walking a fine line they firmly believed to exist.
"Right… well, Psychomancer Lancar, thank you for bringing this to our attention. We will bring this up to the relevant authorities. This meeting is adjourned." Doe stated as he got up out of his chair, followed closely by Psycho.
"Wait, that's it? That's your answer?"
"Did you forget why you came here? This was an informative meeting, not meant to be decisive. We will do what we can, but we cannot guarantee anything."
Lancar was about to say something, perhaps a bit too harsh to Psycho, before Doe raised his hand lightly.
"Don't worry about it. They will know, and they will act."
"I have your word?"
"You have my word." Doe replied, a light smile fixed to his face. Unexpected to Lancar, and not entirely satisfactory, but appreciated for the moment. After a moment, Lancar let out a mildly frustrated sigh, and nodded.
"Fine. Thank you for hearing me out."
With that, Lancar got up out of his chair, and walked out the door, not bothering to say or do anything else. He was done here, although as he walked down the corridor, passing the stormtroopers from before without a word, he realized something. He knew the Psychohunter’s council well enough that matters like this would not just be handed off to some random representatives; some members would even go so far as to join something like this directly, given its urgency. They could have been lying, however why they were lying was a mystery to him. There was no point; Psychohunters did not need to lie to each other about the threat posed by psions and magic, and especially did not need a cover.
So the question remained; why did these representatives lie, and more importantly, who did he actually talk to?
---
"Well, he was annoying." Psycho said, the door closing behind him and Doe as they walked into the adjacent room. The room was dimly lit, small, and otherwise barren, at least at first glance. After all, the room they were in was not necessarily a conference room.
"Annoying, yes, but rightly concerned. You did push him a little hard, though."
Psycho scoffed. "Hardly! He needed the antagonism. Zealots like him don't respond right when coddled. You need to give them that little kick every now and then, otherwise they start squawking like they’re giving a sermon."
"You may be right on that…" Doe responded, before his attention diverted elsewhere. Despite the poor lighting in the room, both psychohunters could see there was an oddity about the room, something that most would pass over if they were just walking by. There was a shadow, out of the way from the other door, barely recognizable, yet distinct enough to be picked out from the gloom.
There was another person in the room.
"What do you think?" Doe asked the shadow.
This other person in the room did not appear to be doing much. In fact, it was just sitting in a chair in silence, yet its presence was surprisingly loud once it was noticed. At first glance, one could mistaken this person as just another armored soldier, yet it was the armor itself, and the insignia it wore, that gave away its true identity; a blank, smooth helm, with grey, sharp armored plating over what looked to be a black bodysuit, although even the nature of this suit was betrayed by the way it fit on the body, giving away its purely cybernetic nature. Blue stripes and Huron insignia were visible across many parts of the armor, and a long, silky-black hooded cloak with navy blue highlights and the heraldry of the Tech-Guard. It also had a strange-looking weapon in his arm, what looked to be a deactivated Darklight Halberd, a rare and powerful weapon only used by a select few individuals in the Technocracy. What truly gave away its origins however was the insignia on its right shoulder plate; the nanites used to change the insignia on its armor was currently configured into a Darklight Trident, aimed at a blackened and bleeding psionic eye.
He, and the two known as Doe and Psycho, were of the Blackwatch, and the individual in question was an observer.
"It is important enough. The Legatus Ultima will know about this… oversight.”
---
Arch-Governor Straken was… nervous, pacing back and forth in his office frantically
For the past two hours, the anxious Arch-Governor has been anticipating the arrival of the Legatus Ultima, who to the misfortune of said Arch-Governor and the rest of his daily plans, needed to talk to him for allegedly “matters of urgent timeliness”. This was strange wording for the usually somewhat laid-back Legatus Ultima; usually it was he who broke the tense atmosphere in the meetings between Arch-Governors and the Lord of Knowledge, at least in his own ways. Strangeness in a time of war was not welcome, and the timing of these urgent matters set off every alarm possible in Straken’s mind as he raced to figure it out before the famed Legatus Ultima actually arrived.
Could it be another threat? A planet was lost? Corona has fallen? SAGA was on the move again, and they were to go to war against CONA again? Not that he was particularly excited for another Aedleshaven. There were a lot of possibilities, although a part of him knew most of them would not warrant the personal appearance of Practor. He would know about most of these possibilities the moment they happened through the Huron news network alone, not to mention his small army of aides. No, there were not many things that Practor would do this for, outside of something truly threatening to the Technocracy’s colonies.
And that is what scared him. What could be so important that the Legatus Ultima, second only to the Lord of Knowledge in political intrigue, would need to personally see him?
His thoughts were interrupted as the door opened, and Practor walked in, only this time, rather than the usual quips and banter, there was none. He was not in a good mood.
“I apologize for ruining your day’s schedule, Straken.”
Straken shook his head lightly, a light smile on his face. “No apologies necessary, Legatus Ultima. With the war going on, interrupted daily schedules have become something of a norm.”
“Well, you have my apologies regardless. I know it is not every day that I show up at your office, even if I was… a little late.” Practor said, forming something related to a smile on his robotic face, yet this time, his words did not break the tension. Knowing Practor, however, this was an intentional move.
“Anyway… you are curious as to why I am here, so I will be blunt; the events related to Elwar have revealed some psyker problems that require immediate addressing.”
Straken suddenly raising an eyebrow was all that Practor needed to know the Arch-Governor was deeply confused. And no wonder, really; he did not have access to the information necessary to even draw the conclusion in the first place.
“How so?”
“As you already know, the enemy that attacked Elwar’s megastructure was psionic in nature. A Psychomancer, directly involved in the defense of Elwar’s planet, has seen what our anti-psionics can do against enemy psionics. To keep it short, their effectiveness was… questionable.” Practor stated plainly. Straken to cross his arms.
“That’s… not good.”
“Not at all. Given the gravity and confidentiality of this information, I have decided it was necessary to inform you in-person. I also need to inform you that as a result, my operations in the colonies will need to be… elevated.” Practor stated, prompting a momentary look of confusion from Straken, yet any questions he had about what exactly ‘elevated’ meant in terms of the colonies were brushed aside; he was not privy to that information anyway, unless Practor deemed it necessary.
“And… why did you feel the need to inform me of this?” The Arch-Governor asked.
“Because, despite the power given to me by the Lord of Knowledge, I was never interested in colony management. I would rather leave that to someone who has that as their job. I need you to do what is necessary in the public’s eye to get us ready. I will do what is necessary where I do things best. That is what, and why, you need to know.”
Straken brought his hand up to his chin, trying to digest what he was told. It was not difficult to see that Straken’s mind was racing, trying to predict public relations and potential limitations to what needed to happen. Straken brought his hand behind his head in a slightly nervous gesture.
“Alright… well, to be honest, what I can do is relatively limited for the moment. Fortunately, the public does not know of what our null tech actually did, so public opinion should be manageable for now, so long as that doesn’t become common knowledge before you get that problem fixed. It’s the logistics of expansion that will be trouble, and that will bring up some raised eyebrows. There simply aren’t enough anti-psionic production and training facilities to provide massive-scale rearmament yet, and building those is both very visible and time-consuming..”
“Then that is where you should focus.”
After another moment of thought, Straken nodded slightly in agreement.
“Fair enough.”
“Again, I apologize for interrupting your daily plans. I wish it were under different circumstances that we met again, but hopefully, everything will blow over soon enough.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Straken replied, prompting a light nod from Practor as he turned to go out the door. Yet before he stepped out, he paused, turning back to Straken as he was halfway out the door already.
“Tell you what, the Interstellar Hockey season is on now, and I believe some of the big games are happening here on Jakar this year. You know, colonial inclusion and stuff like that. I can get you, me, and a few others some proxies to see the games in-person. Well, ‘in-person’ relatively speaking, but you know what I mean.”
After a moment, Straken nodded lightly. “Sure.”