Psycher Chronicles

Interlude VI

Bakshee Developmental Observation Station T&$5*# - (TASSOH)

The Bakshee TASSOH observers sat in their seats, day in and day out, devoting their entire lives towards watching the development of newly evolving planets and ensuring the moment that each planet was ready for integration to the Bakshee nation, they would be contacted immediately.

This forced contact was important as it provided unity and helped the newly capable planets to accept their fate more easily. There were times at first when planets were left to terraform on their own. When the early planets had to contact the rest of the fleet, they would then be accepted with open arms.

The problem with such an arrangement was that these developing planets didn’t always go in the directions given, meaning they often spent years to centuries exploring space on their own. This was found to be a problem as it often meant that by the time such planets finally joined the collective, they were too defiant in their own ways. Which often led to needless political infighting, when larger enemies were a constant threat.

A way to prevent these minor oversights and deep political ties to the planets of one’s own origin was to have stations nearby to meet with and indoctrinate the planet a decade before full space exploration was possible.

Thus, while the TASSOH mission might not have been the most glamorous of positions, offered to many as a retirement facility for the soldiers who spent their lives at war. Or as a waystation for researchers who either annoyed the wrong people or were deemed a hindrance to the actual advancement of sciences to be stationed.

With this odd mix of best but past their prime fighters, and naïve scientists often made for random conversations. Particularly as at least one former soldier had to stand shift with a scientist counterpart, to ensure all the readouts from the various planets within their scanning ranger were monitored and progress reports were sent up nearly constantly.

Most of the time these were boring shifts where only stories and random conversations were made to help pass the time. With only the most exceptional of planets truly drawing any attention from their instrument panels.

“I’m telling you, there was word of a master mechanic on the Matriarch’s ship. We used to call the creature the unsinkable Psycher. So long as one of their reincarnation pods remained, it didn’t matter what happened. Whether it was complete hull breach. Hull fires, disabling of the systems. Nothing we did would stop that flagship from being repaired and able to flee the zone within thirty minutes.” The old soldier began saying, as more than caffeine was in his cup to help loosen the old warrior’s tongue to begin his shift.

“No way, that is just a myth. Something they tell young grad students to study harder lest the boogeyman thwart all their efforts.” The younger but cocky scientist replied.

“I’m telling you, we got it. We spent years tracking down Psychers who had been part of the initial crew of the flagship. Each and everyone spoke of the machinist that could do the impossible, even for people of her kind.” The soldier continued.

“What’d you do, hunt them down, force their resurrection points to be within our bases?” The scientist said mockingly.

“Yes, that is exactly what we did. And after a while of interrogating each member, they all came to the same story. That there was one mechanic who kept that flagship running like clockwork regardless of what we threw at it.”

“Okay, so how did you get her then?”

“Simple, over time, we confirmed where her resurrection point was. Then we gave a precise attack, where we targeted that resurrection point solely, getting rid of all bodies then we kept attacking the flagship, just throwing life after life at the ship, until we were certain that the maintainer and her crew were dead.” By the end of the speech the soldier grew more somber with his response, as it was clear that this was an emotional moment for him.

“We just threw life after life at the onslaught, trying to get one minor objective. Not even hoping for the destruction of the flagship itself, just taking down the maintenance staff.” The soldier finally concluded.

“If so, then that was a terrible waste of resources.” The scientist replied.

Hearing that the soldier could only nod in agreement.

“It was a waste, but it was worth it in the end. I’m sure every soldier who gave their life that day would all agree.”

“Wait, you are talking about the massacre of Reacher’s End? The one where close to a hundred billion units of resources were lost, thousands of ships, and millions of soldiers all lost because of a failed gambit?” The scientist exclaimed, recalling the story and how it was looked on as a failure in the war colleges.

“You say failed, but we got her. Then within a decade, we were able to track down the still bedraggled flagship, where we were ultimately able to kill off their queen once and for all.” The old soldier stated.

Silence.

This was one of the natural stopping points of the shift, as both observers went about their tasks of seeing the feeds from the various planets that were all being developed.

Finally, with their checks complete, the scientist finally went back to the original conversation.

“So what made you think of this story?”

“What do you mean?” The old soldier replied, his mind still going over the numbers and data sets before him.

“What made you suddenly remember the story of this legendary Psycher ghost mechanic?”

With that the soldier could only pause for a moment, before going on with his own introspection.

“It’s these readouts.” The soldier noted, pointing to the fifth of seven data sets that they were supposed to read over.

“The readouts?” The scientist proclaimed as he went over to double-check the values being presented before him.

Upon reading the numbers, the scientist did note a wide fluctuation of activity. With what appeared to be the feeds of no less than seventeen displaced Psychers. Their brainwaves and functions flagged for monitoring, two of which had evolved enough to be on the indoctrinated Psycher watchlist.

“Yeah, two Psychers. You think one of them is this Ghost mechanic?” The Scientist asked.

Hearing the comment, the soldier just shook their head.

“No, that would be too obvious for the mechanic. No, I think it is this one here.” The soldier said, pointing to the notification of not one but two Reaper units active. Not even pointing to the Reaper unit that was biologically older, but noting the Reaper unit that had recently surpassed the only other Reaper unit present.

“What even is a Reaper Unit?” The Scientist asked, while pulling up a data pad and trying to recall the technical data of the set.

“They are a long defunct setting. One that should only be active at the beginning of a Terraforming event, and then die out entirely. The fact that not one but two are active this late in the process is an anomaly.”

“So they are a backwater planet that is far from being ready to be integrated.” The scientist stated dismissively.

“You might think so, but that one model has already been exposed to and resisted multiple Psycher based plagues. Not only that, but they have shown the ability to shield others from the effects of Psycher plagues as well.” The soldier noted, scrolling up and showing how the subject in question was at ground zero of an outbreak, one that was estimated to cost the planet at least five years to recover from. At least recover from in the form of an integration with the galactic society as a whole.

“So what are you saying? The fact that this person survived being exposed to two different Psycher plagues makes them this ghost mechanic?”

“Not just that, but there are Psycher spikes that come out,” the soldier said, denoting different reading points on the charts. All indoctrinated individuals had their statistics sent directly to the research facility. These same feeds were the same sensors that certain Psycher operatives learned to decrypt and access while in the field.

Still, despite the flaws, the system was the best they had available at the time. And so long as the number of noted Psychers didn’t get much higher than two, such infections were deemed to be acceptable. Too many more, and either troops would need to be sent in, or the planet would be deemed a waste of time and resources, and all feeds from the planet would go to a passively monitored state.

“You know that is impossible, that even the older nanite systems would be able to disrupt the psychic feeds of everyone save the matriarch.” The scientist stated, as they went over and were surprised to see that despite his comments to the contrary, the Psychic spikes of activity did come from the noted Reaper.

Then pausing for a moment, he looked at the specs of the Reaper and was momentarily shocked by his findings.

“Wait, this is perfect modification of a Reaper exo-suit. Such a thing should be theoretically impossible. That is why Reapers are designed to die off over time.” The scientist began, recalling perfectly the explanations given during his training.

At that, the old soldier could only nod in agreement, as if finally being able to prove their point.

“You know what this means right?” The scientist asked, a note of pure excitement filling his face as he was close to being able to present the scientific finding of the century. How to fix the flawed Reaper components, it was right there. Better still, this readout even showed the modifications done to prevent future Psycher plague attacks. A bit late, but still good to know. Then just as his mind began to race with all types of possibilities, he was brought back to reality by his shift partner.

“It means we sit right here and watch and wait.” The soldier confirmed.

With that, the look of excitement on the scientist’s face dropped, as he realized the soldier was correct. There wasn’t enough now, to do more than continue to apply observation resources, and monitor for changes.

Then with a start, the cocky scientist looked at the old soldier, and begrudgingly felt a note of respect filling his gaze as he looked at the old veteran.