Psionic

He had honestly tried to understand the commander, but they came from different worlds. Although they could talk easily enough, with the tiny psionic translators they wore like hearing aids. Bowman’s hawknosed, black-pigmented face seemed as forbiddingly foreign as his life was strange.

"So." Rod touched his pursed lips to his steepled fingertips. "Somebody overseas lends the beastmen a huge surge of psionic power— in electrical form, of course; we re assuming psionics is based on an electrical phenomenon. The beastmen channel the power into their own projective telepathy, throw it into the soldiers' minds— somehow, eye contact seems to be necessary there— and from the soldiers' minds, it flows into the witches, immediately knocking out anyone who's tuned in . . . only temporarily, thank Heaven."

Again the Krithian females struck against him, battering his shields again and again, smashing through them, tearing them down one after the other, forcing piercing lances of psionic force through them and into him.