"Once, we were blind to the truth. We thought that 'hard matter' was the only thing that made up the universe. How stupid we were. Now, we know that there is something far greater than us, all we need to do is to let it into our minds, our souls, our very being. Praised be to humanity, a species reborn." - Lisa Han, 1st Apostle of the Whisperers
Medical ward, The Forbidden City, Earth, 11:22 pm local time, 06/04/2545
There were times when Julie was thankful that she couldn't feel certain emotions, ones that would completely shut her down. There was that time when she and Victor were leading their fleet against a fleet belonging to a fanatic purifier empire that outnumbered them two to one, although they possessed superior weaponry, it was still a harrowing process for any normal individual, except the Hesukari admiral couldn't feel fear. There was the time she attended the funeral of a close friend, and as their family and other friends broke down around her, she was coldly calm, unable to feel grief or sadness. Now she and the farseers were waiting outside of the medical wing, nurses carrying out buckets of fleshy growths from the surgery wing, all cut from the human's body. She was thankful that she couldn't feel disgust or worry at this moment. The farseers weren't nearly as concerned as she was, choosing instead to look around the medical ward, occasionally commenting on the primitiveness of it all.
The admiral eyed the two Home Guard members standing guard, their Torrent LMGs at the ready. If they were uncomfortable with their position, they didn't show it. She constantly found herself drawn to their weapons, one of the only weapons capable of bringing down a nanite-infused individual like her. Julie had heard vomiting and the odd sob coming from the surgical ward, evidently the result of them having to endure the sight of the mutating human, and felt uncomfortable as a result, as those emotions were foreign to her. Another surgeon exited the ward, carrying another bucket of fleshy tentacles, the fourth one she saw.
As the three waited, Elathana spoke up.
"I tried to warn him," she sighed. "I told him that dark forces would intervene. I guess humans never change, no matter the universe."
"He has always been a reckless person," Julie agreed. "Always needed his second-in-command or me to remind him to retreat, as he would get obsessed with finishing off the enemy. Hopefully, this will knock some sense into him."
"Don't feel too bad for the human, his fleeting life is worth little in the grand scheme of things."
Julie scoffed. "Easy to say for someone whose life spans for millennia, there's a sort of... allure of a comparatively shorter lifespan, as there's more opportunity for more impactful moments. Sure, he's replaceable, all of us in the Technocracy are, but I'd prefer it if his expiration date is pushed that little bit further."
Caennyl noticed a figure walking down the hallway towards them as the two talked. It was a human, a male, wearing blue and purple robes whose guards flanked. Although the human seemed ordinary at first, the farseers could sense that he had an intense psionic presence and they rightfully tried to avoid him. The trio approached the guards and began to converse with each other.
"他是资产吗? (Is he the asset?)" One of the Home Guard members asked.
"是的，希望他能帮忙… 无论发生什么事, (Yes, and hopefully he can help with... whatever's going on,)" a guard who was escorting the psionic human replied.
"我希望如此，我不想因为没能帮助海军上将而受到皇帝的惩罚. (I hope so, I don't want the Imperator on my ass for failure to help the admiral.)"
They stepped aside and allowed the psion to enter the medical ward. Two minutes later, Julie and the farseers heard the sound of a struggle, yelling, and a high-pitch whirring before the sound of a body hitting the ground caused all four guards to rush in. After a while, the two guards dragged the psion out of the ward, much to the farseers' amusement. A few minutes later, the head nurse exited the ward, hands on their hips. Julie immediately questioned them.
"So?" She began. "Will he be alright?"
"Well, he's in a coma right now," the nurse replied. "Physically, he's stable. Mentally... that remains to be seen. The telepath did his duty."
"Can I see him?"
"No, admiral. The Imperator has ordered him to be left alone for his recovery."
"I'm his partner!" The Hesukari admiral yelled out as she grabbed the nurse, consumed by anger, one of the few emotions she could still feel. Immediately, the two Home Guard soldiers stepped forward and pulled the firing pins on their weapons. The farseers stood back. "I demand to see him!"
"Admiral, step back before you do something you regret," one of the Home Guard members warned. Julie shot a scalding look at them.
"Why? So that he could suffer alone?" She hissed out.
"Because I was giving you an order, Admiral."
"Yours, or the Imperator's?"
"Is there a difference? Who gave it does not matter, what does is that I out-rank you in every conceivable degree."
"You are a baseliner who-"
"-who is so far above your rank, and who guards the Imperial Family. So stand down. Now."
Seeing as she wouldn't get far with continuing with her demands, Julie huffed before turning on her heel and walking away, cape fluttering through the air, followed by the farseers as she went. As the fuming admiral went to her residence, the two Eldar followed her as she went.
"Well that was pointless," Caennyl said. "I still don't know why you even bothered."
"Not helping, farseer," Julie said. "Am I wrong for checking on my partner?"
"No, but-"
"Then please leave your self-righteousness at the door, thanks."
Before the farseer could make a retort, they reached their rooms, the farseers having separate rooms. As they entered their residences and complained about "primitive human luxuries," Julie had collapsed on her bed and simply stared at the ceiling. Despite the celebrations happening below, she just felt cold. A normal person would've felt grief, a normal person would've broken down in tears and sobbed their eyes out, but Julie wasn't a normal person. Instead, she just lay there, staring at nothing, thinking of nothing.
After a while of laying there and doing nothing, she sighed, ordered some champagne just to sip, to remind her of a simpler life, and sat by her wall-sized window to view the parade below. Armored tank columns were in the distance, following the staggering numbers of infantry below. Since there were so many Punitive Corps members getting trained and reborn every day, Julie had once heard it was around a million and a half, they were organized by their sector name followed by a status. For example, say that a group of Punitive Corps members from Xin Guizhou, an industrial sector, was ready for deployment, their name would be "Guizhou Deployment," before being divided into divisions; 1st Punitive Corps, 2nd Punitive Corps, 3rd Punitive Corps, and so on.
Julie herself was part of the Sol Deployment, along with Victor, and had served in the Punitive Corps for five years before applying to become an admiral. Sighing again, she looked at her glass of champagne. Why did she even bother? It's not like she can get drunk ever again, her nanites made sure of that. Is it because she likes the taste? Or that she wants to remember some aspects of her previous life? Julie couldn't tell anymore, she'd survived things that could kill a normal individual a hundred times over. This too would only be a scratch on her mind.
Meanwhile, Imperial Throne Room, the Forbidden City
"And you still don't know where she went?" Imperator Adrian Yang XIV asked the IPC general in front of him who was accompanied by his daughter, Cordelia, who was shooting daggers at the poor general. The news of the director of the Imperial Department of Psionic Affairs going AWOL had shaken the Imperator to his core, and he immediately tasked a battalion of Punitive Corps and Planetary Guard soldiers with the search. The general was the leader of the effort. "Can you at least give me a reason as to why she would just vanish?"
The general cleared their throat. "Well, I can tell you that Director Han's interests weren't exactly with humanity, as proven by her diary and notes that we recovered. It seemed like she was dead set on using the Shroud to further humanity's evolution. A fool's errand, if you ask me." They looked side-to-side. "Rest assured, sir, my forces are scouring the sector for her as we speak."
"No matter her reason," the princess interrupted. "The sheer fact that she not only has not been found yet but that she went AWOL in the first place means a massive failure in my department! Your incompetency is embarrassing me in front of my father!"
"Oh so it's my fault she went AWOL? I thought your department was supposed to keep tabs on things like this!"
The princess looked like she wanted to strangle the general right there and then. "Irrelevant! Completely irrelevant! Don't you dare deflect your failure onto me!"
"I am not deflecting my so-called 'failure' onto you, I'm deflecting it to the Imperial Internal Security division, which you are the head of! Or is your head so far up your ass that you simply fail to recall such an obvious fact?"
"Cordelia, general, that's enough," Yang said firmly. "General, what's the progress of your search?"
"We've scoured the entirety of New Atlantic, and are beginning searches on other planets in the sector, sir."
The Imperator nodded. "Intensify it. Double all shifts. I want Director Han to be recovered alive or dead. As always, you'll have as many resources as you need."
"Thank you, sir. Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, general."
"We're currently using organic pilots flying sorties across the sector's planets, and they're tiring quickly. Can we have some original Wraith drones to assist our search?"
Yang and Cordelia raised an eyebrow.
"I know, almost all of the non-combative Wraith hunter-killer drones have been converted or destroyed, but if there are some Wraiths tailored to reconnaissance, we would like to have them."
"I'll see what I can do, general. Dismissed." The general saluted and left the throne room. Yang then turned to her daughter.
"Cordelia, continue monitoring all communications, all inbound and outbound traffic of the sector, and every manifest of every ship leaving. If a message even somewhat mentions Han in any way, investigate immediately."
The princess nodded and left, the doors sliding shut. Yang sighed and rubbed his face with both hands, the news of the director's vanishing was yet another concern for the Imperator, the other being Admiral Williams' sudden mutation after he had finished his speech. He made sure to give him the best medical treatment available and even called in a specialist to assist, the same person who tipped him off on the director in the first place.
Looking around his throne room, it resembled a corporate board room with its utilitarian style, much to the approval of Monnobaki, the chairman of the Lilarobian Transstellar megacorporation. It matched his character, as he was much more humble than other monarchs in history and the galaxy. He looked out of the wall-sized window, seeing the massive and cheerful crowds and the military parade below. It was supposed to be a happy celebration, and he was indeed happy for humanity, especially after Admiral Williams made his speech, he couldn't help but think that humanity's golden age was about to come to a close, much like the other eras of humanity. The only problem is how violent the end will be.
Another small hiss caused Yang to turn around and see Empress Jaffaba Sartyr walking into his humble throne room and looking at it with disapproval.
"Adrian, my dear, you really must decorate your throne room more," she said. "It's your throne room! Do you need me to provide some staff to assist you?"
Yang smiled. "It soothes the eyes, no? Besides, the simplicity of the place matches my ruling style."
The empress smirked and cupped his face. "Simplicity doesn't suit you, dear. You command the largest empire in the galaxy, with mine being the second; you deserve to show it off."
"I show it well enough with my battlegroups and my empire's size," he said with a smile. "I believe that only honorable and compassionate nobles survive history."
"There's no such thing, Adrian."
The Imperator shrugged. "Maybe I'm the first, maybe the second behind you."
The pair then turned their attention towards the wall-sized glass, the parade marching across below. It was a glorious sight; humanity's finest marched in perfect rows showing the Technocracy and the entire galaxy that they were... perfect. Nanite-infused flesh gave one hundred percent efficiency, processing everything in their surroundings in nearly computational perfection, free from hindering emotions like fear, sorrow, and anger. They were the heroes of the Technocracy, the bane of her foes, and the highest form of humanity, a true golden age for all to share. They had toppled empires, deposed kings, and crushed the falsehoods of spiritualism wherever they found it, bringing any who dared cross their path on the road to innovation and progress, the survivors at least. All of their weapons were armed and ready, for this was not merely a celebratory event, as anyone who dared interrupt this glorious day of unity would be dead before their feeble minds could process it.
Behind them, legions of armored units followed off into the horizon. Tanks, APCs, missile launchers, transports, anti-air units, the steel tide of the Technocracy. Most of them were retrofits of pre-Unification era technology, their designs so perfect that the only thing that needed upgrades were compatibility with modern technology and their weapons to match current designs. Riding on them, their crews saluted in the direction of the throne room, the Imperator saluting in return. So numerous in their numbers that the Technocracy sold them to other empires, even to warring ones, stripped of their advanced technology, of course. Every day, across the empire, millions of these vehicles were made each day, all to fuel the Technocracy's war machine.
"Y'know," Yang said to the empress while looking at the parade below. "You're free to join this if you so wish. It's not just my day, after all, but both of our empires' days."
"We would?" Jaffaba asked excitedly. "Is it still possible? I mean, your troops have already continued this far."
Yang chuckled. "If it isn't, I'll make it so. I'd tear space and time apart to give your empire the recognition it deserves."
"Oh, you're too kind! Unfortunately, all of our forces are preoccupied at the moment. The remnants of the League of Halzian Suns are getting uppity recently, and they've seen to attempting to take some of our territory."
"Do you need us to send support to your border?" The League was all but destroyed by the multitude of sanctions placed on them by the Technocracy, which they had ironically pushed through to combat the Technocracy. Although they still existed, they were massively reduced in size.
"Oh, no, they haven't even managed to take a single system! If everything goes well, our fleets should finish them off once and for all. Some of them will be given to you as slaves, of course."
Yang smirked. Genocides, atrocities, and slavery in this galaxy were as common as adding sugar to tea. It was hard to believe the concept of "war crimes" once held humanity in bondage. Oh, how he wanted the poor fools who proposed such a concept to witness humanity's grandeur without such restraints. In a galaxy where "might makes right" ruled supreme, such thoughts are swept into the dustbin of history.
Pouring tea for both him and his guest/lover, the Imperator sat down on his "throne," essentially a pure wooden seat behind a massive table, while Jaffaba chose to sit on the table itself. Although she was the human age of three hundred, she looked like she was in her early thirties. Combined with her elven appearance, the empress was truly a thing of beauty. Taking a sip, she smiled.
"I always love this drink, what do you call it again?"
"Tea."
"Yeah, that. It's similar to a drink my kind had during the pre-unification era on Mithra, although the plant that it was made from has long gone extinct."
Yang cocked his head curiously. "I sent you 100,000 tea plants as a gift, what happened to them?"
"Ugh, some amateur botanists ruined them," the empress said as she blushed in embarrassment. "They thought they had to be grown in boiling water, not brewed in boiling water."
The Imperator nearly spat out his tea with laughter, to which Jaffaba groaned.
"It's not funny! I nearly had a meltdown when I heard that your generous gift to our people was ruined by such incompetence!"
"F-forgive me," Yang got out between laughs. "It-Its just that, the fact that someone misread the instructions to such a degree; it's the pinnacle of comedy."
The empress smiled at that, glad to know that her strongest and closest ally (in more ways than one) wasn't angry at the disrespect.
"I'll send you enough tea plants to fill ten of the orbiting hydroponics your son had deployed over Earth, it's only just."
She grinned. The empress loved that fact about humans; if they wronged someone accidentally, they'd move mountains to make it right, unlike the dwarven empire that both of them helped to wipe out, the citizens exterminated, their tunnel homes making excellent flooding targets. Deciding to refocus both of their thoughts back on the marriage, the empress talked.
"So, will you designate our children's marriage as a holiday?"
"Only if you do the same," Yang said with a smile.
"Of course, it's only just to celebrate the continuation of both our dynasties."
The two sat in silence for a while, lost in each other's eyes. If anyone were to walk in, they would've assumed that they were a young couple hopelessly in love with each other, which they were, instead of the leaders of the two strongest and largest empires in the galaxy. One thing led to another, and the empress's lips were on Yang's, both leaning into the embrace. The following noises that emanated outside the chamber would've made the guards who were stationed outside uncomfortable if they were capable of such emotions.
After his... intense physical negotiation with the empress, Yang decided to visit Admiral Williams in the medical ward. He deserved to be in his presence after what he had endured, and add to the fact that he'd only been saved via the use of telepath Daniel Xiu, he'd gone through more than what normal baseline people go through in a lifetime. Walking through the sterile halls, he knew the path as if it were the back of his hand. Passing by numerous medical staff who barely gave him a second glance, not giving the leader of humanity the respect that he expected. He didn't mind though, as he had little time for sycophants. A few minutes later, he finally reached the room where the admiral was held.
It was a large recovery room with thirteen beds, all empty except one, which the admiral was lying in. The Imperator stood beside it and observed the comatose admiral. He sighed, the sight of his favored leader in this state struck a cord in him. Unlike other monarchs in the galaxy, he didn't treat his generals and admirals as disposable fodder; true, genuine skill is surprisingly scant and there was a huge amount of "yes men" in the ranks of applicants, and Yang didn't want that. He wanted competent generals and admirals who could think on their feet and not sycophants who would say yes to everything he said.
Victor was one of those admirals who you knew meant business when you looked at him, as he held both a near-fanatical loyalty to the Technocracy and the ability to think of new tactics in the heat of battle. His thoughts were interrupted by the head nurse coming up to him.
"Your Majesty," they said. "Your visit is a surprise."
"It shouldn't be," Yang retorted. "This is my home, I can go where I like."
"Of course, Your Majesty. To what do I owe the honor?"
"I was checking in on the progress of Admiral Williams' recovery. I assume all is going well?"
"Yes, whatever the 'Asset' as you so described them did to him, it worked. We cut off literal buckets of flesh and growths every fifteen minutes."
"Please, spare me the details," Yang said with a groan. "What's the estimated time for his awakening?"
The head nurse tapped their holo-pad. "Our most conservative measurements estimate... five months at the earliest. Whatever caused him to experience those mutations did a number on him."
"Anything else?"
"There was an incident between me and his partner, one Admiral Juliet Conner, that involved her verbally and physically assaulting me when I refused to let her see him. Her charges are awaiting your approval to go to court."
Yang sighed. "Dismiss them. All of them. Such behavior is to be expected when faced with a situation like this."
"I- Yes, Your Majesty."
"Also, send all updates to me first before your supervisor, understood?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The Imperator then turned and left the ward, mind going back to the disappearance of Director Han.
Han Residence, 深渊城市 (Abyssal City,) 新大西洋 (New Atlantic,) Delta Pavonis system, 11:00 pm local time
"And you're certain that she hasn't contacted you?" Interrogator Li Wei asked Sadonis Han, the husband of the AWOL director, the poor man sweating bullets. Although many would see this as a sign of hiding something, Li usually chaulked this up to intimidation, amplified by the fact that he was flanked by two Punitive Guard members. "Please, if there's something you're not telling us, do so now. This is a case of imperial safety."
"I... I haven't heard from her for a week," the poor man got out. "She kept replying to messages as she was supposed to, then she just... stopped. Originally I thought she merely had communication issues, but as soon as I saw the Punitive Corps landing... I knew something was wrong."
"Did she tell you what she was doing before she disappeared?"
"All I know is what you've told me she did; direct psionic operations at some classified location."
"Did she keep personal records? A diary, a journal, a PDA, stuff like that?"
"She does have a diary she writes in from time to time," Sardonis said while nodding. "I never looked in it though, her privacy and all that."
"Show me."
The pair then got up as Sardonis led them to Lisa's bedroom, the Interrogator and his guards leaning down slightly to fit. As expected, it was clean, tidy, and all-in-all pretty to look at. There was also nothing to hint at her motives nor where she ran off to. A quick sweep of the room resulted in her diary being found, and it raised more questions than answers. The book itself was a normal, hard-covered, paper-bound, standard diary. It was what was drawn on the cover that raised eyebrows. It was a circle with seven arrows protruding outwards from the center of it.
"What does this symbol represent?" He asked.
"No idea, Interrogator," Sardonis answered. "There's a lot of things she can't tell me. You understand, don't you?"
The Interrogator then faced one of his guards.
"Send this to Earth for analysis. I want the results by the next Earth week." He faced Sardonis again. "I think we're done here, Mr. Han. Thank you for your cooperation."
"Of course. Glory to the state, glory to humanity."
"Glory," Li said before exiting.
Outside, as the Interrogator and his guards walked to their transport, one of them spoke up.
"Are you just going to let a potentially compromised individual go like that?" They asked in concern.
"I am," Wei replied.
"But what if they were in cahoots with each other? I mean, they're husband and wife for fuck's sake!"
"Were husband and wife, were."
"What do you mean by-" The guard's words were cut off by the sound of a marauder missile screeching through the air and the explosion of it striking the residence, utterly obliterating it and leaving no survivors. The cloud left behind was already rising into the air.
"I meant that Sardonis Han never existed. There is no Sardonis Han, there is no Lisa Han, the Han name never even existed, understood?" The Interrogator asked coldly.
"O-Of course, sir."
The three of them walked until they reached their Falcon transport where the leader of the search efforts on this planet greeted them.
"General," Wei said. "How's the search going?"
"Poorly," they replied. "My troops have scoured every inch of this planet, no luck." They looked over at the ruins of the residence, the smoke nearly dissipating. "Was that necessary, sir?"
"I have my reasons."
The general sighed. Not only did the Interrogator outrank them, but they knew better than to question matters of imperial security. Instead, they directed more of their troops to yet another search pattern, the hundredth one this cycle. The four of them then entered the transport and took off into the salty ocean air.
"Progress?" Wei asked, voice as cold as usual.
"As I've said, we've searched the entirety of this planet and have begun searching on other planets," the general replied. "If she's indeed still in the sector, we'll find her."
"It took you this long to search other planets?"
"We're soldiers, not searchers. The Punitive Corps needed time to adapt to this... novel investigation methodology, but rest assured, she will be found." The general looked around the transport. "What's to be the fate of the complex?"
The Interrogator thought about it for a moment. "Evacuate the telepaths, the choir members, and any high-ranking personnel or people deemed important. Copy everything from the archives. After which, level the entire complex from orbit."
"And what about the other psions in training? The staffers and scientists?"
"What about them?"
新云南(New Yunnan,) 40 Eridani system, 1:22 am local time
Jason Wen was piloting his Osprey fighter over the tropical canopy of New Yunnan looking for the missing director, the green landscape below slightly dulled due to it being the dead of night. The fighter was an amazing, if slightly primitive, aircraft, originally designed during the pre-unification era of Earth, and despite it not having the capacity for space flight, it didn't need it as its role was defending planets. It was his fifth sortie of the day, and he was getting tired. The search for the missing director had every single available asset on the case, and that included every air unit that wasn't in the air to take off at once and scour their planets for the missing director. Jason was one such fortunate or unfortunate pilot who was part of the search. He can't complain though, since he was a pilot of the Technocracy, and he was ready to lay down his life for the Technocracy should the order come down. Not out of fear, however, as fear only causes one to decrease in efficiency, but out of sheer loyalty.
But loyalty alone didn't help the sheer boredom that he felt as his fighter screamed through the night sky, an infrared scanner that was installed on his fighter sweeping the ground, which so far only picked up local fauna and some heat-generating flora. Despite having his nervous system connected to his fighter, he still felt so bored, and even the fact that his thoughts controlled the fighter could relieve it. He was infinitely glad that original Wraith recon drones were about to take over the role, some of them at least. His focus was broken by the sound of his communicator sending static into his ear, causing the fighter to wobble a little due to his surprise.
"Major Wen," the voice of the airbase commander said. "Status of your search?"
"Fruitless," Jason replied. "I've been in the air for five hours straight, permission to return to base?"
"What's the status of your fuel reserves?"
The pilot checked. "About one-third of the tank remaining."
"Then continue searching and report any findings at once, how copy?"
"Copy," Jason said with a sigh. The Osprey continued for another thirty minutes, finding nothing. That is until...
The infrared scanner found a humanoid heat signature deep within the foliage, standing dead still.
"Command," he spoke into his communicator. "I've spotted a reading matching that of the sample you've given me." A picture of Director Han and her heat signature was stuck to the interior of the cockpit.
"Land and investigate at once."
"Can't I just send you the coordinates and have a team sent instead?"
"This may be the only chance we have to kill or capture her, we can't waste it!"
"Yes, sir," Jason said with a sigh as he searched for a place to land. He hated the thought of entering the rainforest in the pitch of night, especially when the director could be in there, with who knows what to protect her. Eventually, he found a riverbank that had a long enough clearing for him to land.
The interior of the cockpit turned pitch black as the microscopic cameras projecting the outside world shut down before the cover itself opened with a hiss, exposing Jason to the cool, humid air of the rainforest. Disconnecting his nervous system from the controls, the pilot stepped out of the surprisingly comfortable cockpit onto the soft ground of the riverbank, the thick jungle stood in an imposing manner in front of him. Taking out his pistol, he set a timer to his automated SOS broadcaster on his flight armor for twelve hours just in case he got lost or something. He clicked on the under-barrel flashlight on his and walked into the forest.
This is so, so stupid, Jason thought as he walked through the dark jungle, the sound of local fauna filling the air. With each step, he felt his feet sinking slightly into the soft floor, his flight armor providing little comfort against his situation. He swore that there were insects in the circular holes along his spinal column that allowed him to sync his nervous system with his fighter, which made the whole thing worse. He hated walking in nature, and would much rather be soaring the skies or taking a stroll in one of the cities of this planet. Every rustle of leaves and every twig snap caused him to point his pistol in the direction of the sound for a couple of seconds.
"Major," Jason's communicator spoke. "Status report. Have you found her yet?"
"Not yet," he replied, tone filled with discomfort. "I'm... half a kilometer out."
"Copy, you permitted to terminate the director should she resist."
A couple of minutes later, he came across a spot where there were fewer trees when compared to the surroundings. There, in the center of this grove-like area, stood Director Han with her back faced to the pilot, her signature white lab coat ripped and tattered.
"Command, I found her."
"Bring her in."
"Director!" Jason yelled to Lisa with as much authority as he could muster. "By the order of Imperator Adrian Yang XIV and the Technocracy, you are under arrest for high treason and dereliction of duty! Put your hands up!"
No response. The pilot flicked off the safety on his pistol.
"I said, hands up-" The director faced him faster than he could react, and what Jason saw paralyzed him. Eyes covered eighty percent of her face, some were human, others were yellow with slit-like pupils. Her left arm was completely mutated and was a mass of tentacles and feathers, and her lab coat had a circle with seven arrows coming out of it. The standoff lasted for a few tense seconds, with the two blinking at each other, Jason with his two eyes, Lisa with her eighteen. Before the pilot began to squeeze the trigger of his pistol, the director rushed him faster than he could react. The resulting screams could be heard from over a mile away.
Information Data Logs
RS-266 "Torrent" Light Machine Gun: An evolution of an old Earth RPK light machine gun with a two hundred-round magazine, the Torrent is the ultimate rapid-fire suppression weapon used by baseline humans with little to no nanite infusion and requires heavy armor to both wield the weapon and to withstand the amount of recoil this weapon generates. Its name comes from the sheer amount of rounds it can fire, its neutronium rounds capable of punching through light vehicular armor, reinforced glass on aircraft, and any armor that a baseline human can wear. It is also capable of firing in zero-g and vacuum environments and is one of the only weapons that baseline humans have that can reliably take down rogue members of the Punitive Corps, only if they aim for the head though. Humorously, it also has a dial to increase its fire rate, which was meant for Punitive Corps, since nothing is more humbling than an 8'5" nanite-infused super soldier taking your machine gun and using it as a machine pistol.
Era of Galactic Prosperity AKA The Golden Age of Humanity (2300 - _): With the advent of communications with our galactic neighbors, humanity experienced a surge in exploration craze; record numbers of scientists not seen in any point of time, new divisions of the burgeoning Imperial Science department couldn't be made fast enough, and accidents due to unsatisfactory training from the struggling Imperial Academies received by said scientists rose at an unsettling rate, forcing the Imperator to enact stricter measures to quell the excitement, such as implementing a mandatory five-year conscription into the Imperial Planetary Guard for training and restraint, lest we drove ourselves into the ground through sheer excitement alone.
Other alien civilizations were discovered, with some welcoming and friendly, others indifferent or wanting nothing to do with us, and others even hostile, which we along with our allies managed to pacify or outright crush. The Galactic Community was also established, allowing various alien races to come together to discuss grievances and establish galactic laws that kept all the empires in check. It's the best time to be a human, our scientific prowess is second to none, our navy and armies are the most powerful, our economy is booming, and our empire spans countless stars. We've subjugated or destroyed all who dare stand against us, and our allies are many. Although the Imperator knows full well that the golden ages often precede a brutal collapse, who says we can't enjoy the moment?
...It is not your time yet. But it could be.
Slavery: Although drawing the ire of many "free" and "democratic" empires, the Technocracy enjoys, supports, and promotes the act of slavery both within the empire and outside it, with 10% of the economy relying on slave labor. Slavery can take on many forms, each with its level of danger and respect, and anyone can be enslaved, even Technocracy citizens, usually as a result of conquest or a crime being committed. Slaves could work any role, from indentured servants who had more trust to handle sensitive tasks to chattel slaves who worked the jobs all others didn't want to. The Technocracy has many Thrall worlds dedicated to the breeding of slaves and is the biggest user of the galactic slave trade, both buying and selling slaves. Despite this, the Technocracy has a series of ten guidelines on slavery. They are:
1. All slaves shall have the same rights as the free population and the responsibilities that entail. This does not mean they should be mistreated despite not being free themselves.
2. All slaves shall have access to the necessary protective gear required by their job position. Injuries cause a decrease in efficiency, and as such, all slave owners shall provide the necessary equipment for their jobs. Failure to do so will result in fines or imprisonment.
3. If a slave is a servant to a high-ranking member, they are to be treated with the same level of respect as if one were addressing their master. They are given the same privileges that their master enjoys and are to be treated with respect.
4. All slaves shall receive education on par with or better than the free population. For many, slavery is the first path to reformation and a free member of the Technocracy, and as such, if they came from a poor background or a society with little to no education, they shall be granted a basic level of education with the possibility of pursuing secondary education when they're freed.
5. All slavery times shall be within a reasonable period, relative to the species' average lifespan. This means no lifetime slavery or 75 years plus slavery sentences. The most and harshest sentence for a non-treasonous act shall be no more than 25 years, relative to lifespan. Treason, on the other hand, is a different matter entirely.
6. All crimes committed by a slave will not result in an extension of their sentence. Some, understandably, are not pleased with their lot in life and will take their anger out on others. Crimes committed after their term may result in re-enslavement, however.
7. All slaves are allowed and encouraged to have relations with their master, even intimate ones. This allows the slave(s) to better understand their master's needs and allows the master to understand their servants better, as well as making their sentence as comfortable as possible.
8. If a slave and their master or another slave conceive a child, said child will be free with full Technocracy citizenship.
9. All crimes committed by a free individual towards a slave will result in punishment equal to as if it was committed towards a free individual. Despite not being a free member of the Technocracy, they are still one of us and shall not suffer any form of harm from anyone.
10. The Imperial Re-education Department shall deal with all matters regarding slaves. All matters and concerns from sellers, buyers, masters, thrall world overseers, and the slaves themselves shall be heard and treated equally, with no preference over status.
It is important to know that this only applies within Technocracy borders, and the Technocracy cares little about slaves possessed by foreign nations, and slavery represents 10% of the entirety of the Technocracy's economy.
Interrogators: In a society as complex and expansive as the Technocracy, there are bound to exist groups or individuals who do not comply with societal norms or the rules outlined by their oath taken when the individual became a Technocracy citizen or when they turned eighteen Earth years, or simply people on the wrong side of the law, and it's in the best interest of everyone that these deviants are found, rehabilitated, or sometimes executed as a last resort. The people to which the crown of justice lays are the Interrogators, former Punitive Corps members with the authority to question, arrest, and interrogate anyone, of any rank, with zero consequences. Not even the Imperator is completely safe from their investigations, although those who try usually aren't heard from again.
Marauder Missile: The Technocracy is at the leading front of guided munitions weapons technology, and the MS-349 "Marauder" Missile is only the latest example of this superiority. Along with its cousin, the MS-350 "Devastator" Torpedo, the Marauder differs from previous models, like the Quantum and Antimatter missiles that used a zero-point vacuum and antimatter, respectively, by using volatile motes - a highly explosive substance that's used as a primer for the Technocracy's myriad of ballistic weapons, a highly effective explosive, and, in the Marauder's case, a very powerful warhead filler that amplifies the explosive properties of the missile. Reinforced warhead linings allow the missile to withstand point defense lasers and slip past shields unmolested. Another aspect of its superiority is integrating an AI unit that acts as a navigational and targeting enhancer, making the Marauder nearly impossible to shake off or outrun. So adaptable is the Marauder that it is used in every way imaginable, from massive, battleship-sized cruise missiles to individual hand-held missile launchers.
R-68 "Osprey" Fighter: An evolution of the old Earth Messerschmitt ME 262, the Osprey is the Technocracy's premiere atmospheric fighter, although it is noticeably more primitive than its counterparts. First appearing during the War for Societal Unification, the Osprey flew alongside its cousin, the Banshee, and often undertook ground strike missions, cleaning up enemy bases and destroying armor. In the 26th century, however, it is noticeably more technologically primitive than the R-67 "Banshee" or other fighters and still relies on jet fuel instead of zero-point energy like other fighters, although it still possesses the ability to integrate a pilot's nervous system directly with the controls. As its primary purpose is to defend planets, its loadout contains autocannons, air-to-air and air-to-ground missiles, and various bomb sizes and types to make the enemy's life as difficult as possible. Many may laugh at the primitiveness of the Osprey, but with a volley of missiles and autocannon rounds, it's usually the pilot who gets the last laugh.
Pilots: The ace operators of jet-powered aircraft have historically been the most tenacious of their respective nation-states, often the ones who have little to no fear, can process information better than anyone else, and the ones who get the most training. In the 26th century, this still holds. Drawn from the ranks of the Imperial Punitive Corps, pilots are selected during training that follows after their nanite infusions, drawing from scores earned from flying combat simulations that subjects go through as a part of it. After selection, they are further modified by having a series of connectors grafted into their spinal column which allow for syncing their nervous system with their fighter, allowing for enhanced control of their craft. They are also given specialized flight armor that allows them to withstand the amount of g-forces they'd experience both in combat and during ceremonial maneuvers, allowing for continuous efficiency during flight. It also allows them to survive extreme environmental conditions as they wait for rescue should they get shot down or crash. Speaking of survival, most pilots are only given a pistol to use in self-defense as they are not meant to be frontline soldiers, but rather a specialist who is better in the cockpit than on land.