There was little about this room that Nura could bring herself to like. It was cold, bare, and small. Crowded, as well. With the man and woman administering the tests looming over her, it felt too enclosed by half.

The woman was Talarian. Her scales were a deep green color, and she didn't possess a single spine on her head. Nura had never heard of a crestless Talarian before today. Her name was Dhorl, and she was bare to the waist.

Nura kept trying to remind herself that Talarians didn't possess the same differences between genders as Threshpanians or similar cultural norms regarding clothing, but it was still shocking to see in person. Just shy of fifteen years old, Nura had rarely been exposed to foreign cultures, and more often than not, she found the sheer alienness of other sapient species to be too much to handle.

When she confessed these concerns to Vanta, her saj assured her that this xenophasia would pass with familiarity. It was nothing to be ashamed of, but it was something to overcome. Being discomforted around another species said nothing of them, only of oneself.

"Anything?" Dhorl asked.

Nura closed her eyes and concentrated. She tried to imagine the room on the other side of the bulkhead, but all she could feel was a growing frustration. Strange, that she wanted to succeed. Nura felt an odd sense of peace here. It was almost as if something within her was missing.

"Nothing," Nura said as she opened her eyes again. "Maybe... a table?"

Dhorl glanced towards the other person in the interview room. The man, a breathtakingly handsome Fey'lin named Valano Vaas, shook his head before resuming his unblinking scrutiny of Nura.

If the Talarian made Nura nervous, the Fey'lin had as different an effect on her as there could be. Valano was exquisite, every bit as beautiful as the actors in vid dramas. His crimson hair hung nearly to his shoulders and glistened with a healthy sheen. Every angle and contour of his face seemed sculpted from the finest marble, his magenta skin was smooth and unblemished, and Nura could drown in his brown eyes.

Nura had been taken aback when Valano first entered into the room, and it'd been supremely difficult to keep herself from just staring at him. How could someone not be entranced by Aytheric species? They came so close to the holy ideal of a mortal body.

She recognized that her immediate infatuation was silly. However, that didn't keep Nura from trying her hardest on these tests. Perhaps if she did well, he might favor her with a smile. She longed for him to smile at her.

The Talarian consulted her datapad then typed a few lines. "I've heard enough. Remote viewing is a negative."

It was a curious mixture of relief and disappointment that Nura felt. Certainly, there was no reason for her to hope that her Psy-Agency screening would name her a psychic— about fifty dozen for her to hope it wouldn't— but she didn't savor the notion that there were abilities beyond her.

"What's next?" Nura asked.

"Nothing is next," Dhorl said as she began gathering her datacards. "That will conclude the screening."

"Not yet," Valano said in a deathly soft voice. He'd yet to speak more than five words strung together and never in a tone much louder than a whisper. "There were inconsistencies."

The Talarian looked at her associate and then to Nura. Dhorl's green eyes felt like they could see right through her, which wasn't very surprising, really. Being an Agent, she probably could.

"What would you recommend, Agent Vaas?" Dhorl asked.

"Registration," Valano replied. It came immediate and without hesitation, the order to shackle Nura's mind forever.

A cold spike of fear grew slowly in Nura's heart. She wondered what she did wrong.

Dhorl's lips curled, giving a brief look at her sharp teeth. "Preposterous," she growled. "If we registered everyone we interviewed at these levels..."

"Registration," Valano repeated. "We cannot abide a psychic to remain unchecked."

Dhorl speared Valano with a glare he didn't seem to notice. He never took his eyes from Nura's. His perfect, beautiful eyes.

"Level four empathic sensitivity is outside of the requirements for registry," Dhorl said more to Nura than her partner. Perhaps she meant it to be comforting. "Wholly benign. It is no more a threat to the public safety than someone adept at reading body language, or an Aythear Vythe. You will be able to sense a person's emotional state, perhaps with consistency, and you're hard to lie to. That's all. Fey'lin pheromones can do more harm."

That last was said with a sidelong look at Valano. The man raised an eyebrow at the comment and didn't argue further.

"Though, I believe Agent Vaas is more concerned with the telepathy examination," Dhorl said.

"I thought I failed that," Nura said.

"You did," Dhorl said at the same time Valano whispered, "Partially."

The two Agents exchanged a brief look that carried the weight of a star cruiser. For all Nura knew, there might've been an actual conversation hidden in that somewhere. Anything was possible with psychics.

"I've entered you in as a level five telepath," Dhorl said after bringing her eyes back to Nura. "Barely, and I did so with reluctance."

"But," Nura stammered, "I didn't hear anything when you tried to... talk to me."

Valano shook his head. "No, but I did."

"Negligible telepathic emissions," Dhorl assured Nura. "You may occasionally know what someone is about to say before they say it. You may even make someone think of you if you're feeling great stress, but I believe it's unlikely. Telepathy is a difficult psychic field to classify; it has many variables. There are both receptive and transmissive attributes. You fall more under the receptive. Though, again, barely."

Valano closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again, he looked at Dhorl. "Level five receptive telepathy is grounds for registration," he said to her.

"Under the discretion of the examiner," she replied. The Talarian woman swept the last of her datacards into the satchel she brought in with her. "She's not about to read any minds. I conclude that Nura daj'Lera is unfit for registration. You'll be documented as a latent, kid, but you'd be surprised by how many people are. All it means is that you may be asked to undergo further screenings in the future. I see no reason to place any restrictions upon your Confederation citizenship." Dhorl gave Nura a wink. "Save for an advisement against staked thrakous games. It's no fun if you can't bluff."

Dhorl approached the door to the interview room and keyed it to open. She led the way out, needing to duck through the squat yet broad opening. Valano lingered a moment.

"I am pleased," he said to Nura. His eyes held onto her for a second longer, then he followed Dhorl through the door.

Pleased? Nura thought it would be the opposite. From his earlier comments and the way Agents relentlessly screened every sapient they could reach in the Confederation, Nura had assumed they wanted to recruit as many psychics as they could.

Still though, the interview room's door was open. It seemed as if she was being allowed to leave. Nura slid her chair away from the table and stood. She hesitated at the broad doorway, peeking her head through to make sure no one was about to shove her back into her seat and tell her to stay put.

Nura saw the backs of Dhorl and Valano a few meters away. They spoke with Vanta. Nura's uncle was nodding, relief obvious in his stance and expression.

How obvious was it really? Nura couldn't help but wonder how much of what she could tell about what people were feeling was from careful observation or from minor psychic sensitivity.

It was galling. To think, that what she'd always taken for granted might be the byproduct of a genetic mutation. Nura shuddered.

Her uncle had arrived aboard the Tovre that morning. It took a lot to get her saj away from the Fanthara as of late, but his two daj being screened for psychic ability had done the trick. It was a toss-up for who'd been the more anxious, him or Nura.

Vanta looked past the two Agents and saw her. He excused himself from them and walked in her direction. Dhorl and Valano followed him with their eyes, then went on their way. They surely had more screenings to attend to. Half of the Tovre's graduating class was still waiting to get this over with.

"Are you well, girl?" Vanta asked as he came to stand in front of her.

"I'm well, Uncle," Nura said. She watched as Valano turned down an intersecting corridor. She hadn't been able to get him to smile. Disappointing.

She blinked at the thought. Why would she want to see him smile? She'd rather step through an airlock naked than be in the same room as a psychic a moment longer. They were a short step from Voidtouched as far as she was concerned.

Thinking back to a few moments ago, to the wild terror and revulsion she felt every moment she was trapped in that room with them, Nura was impressed with herself at how she kept it together.

"I think I did well," Nura said, meeting her uncle's eye.

Vanta gave her a considering look. "No headaches?"

Nura shook her head.

"Dizziness? Disorientation?"

"No, Uncle. Why would I?"

The old longtooth chuckled. "It might come to you later. Agents are slippery. You often don't realize what they've done until long after the fact, if at all. Thank the gods they only use their abilities when it's sanctioned."

Nura furrowed her brow. What did he mean? "They said I...," she began.

"Hush, girl," Vanta interrupted. "If they didn't register you, that's all that needs to be said on the matter. Whatever happens, whatever you may hear..." His breath caught in his throat. Vanta took a moment to calm himself. "You must keep it to yourself."

Nura gave him a meek assurance that she would do as he said. Was Vanta afraid? It was nothing but a hunch, but she thought he may be. "How did Canas do?" she asked to change the subject.

Vanta guided her to walk alongside him. The Psy-Agency frigate was docked with the Tovre, and the hardseal was a long walk away. Nura wondered if the screening rooms were kept away from the hardseal in case a student tried to escape.

"I sent your brother ahead," Vanta said. "His assessment was much the same as yours. Unsurprising. The two of you are always so alike in ability. Even in this."

Level four empathic ability, Nura mused. Level five receptive telepathy. Not strong enough to be registered, but enough to cause a scandal.

Her uncle was right, she concluded. It was imperative that she never speak of this aloud to anyone. Not to family, or even to Meras. The record of her screening was to be sealed, and she need not ever remember that she had latent psychic ability. Even though a person might be deemed safe for being a part of society, if it came to light that they had any psychic ability at all, there would most certainly be consequences.

"I'll do my best to never use it," Nura whispered.

Vanta glanced at her. He pointed her down an intersection, and they continued on. "Were that an option," Vanta sighed. "You may as well say you'll never use your sense of hearing again. It's a part of you, girl. Learn to accept it. Make it as another sense to trust, no different from sight or smell. Then, never reveal it."

Trust it? Nura would much rather abandon it. Though, she did find the idea of not being able to be lied to appealing.

"I know Agent Vaas," Vanta said abruptly.

"You do?"

"Well, more accurate to say that I once did. He was part of my staff, a lieutenant. He was a secretary to Vice Admiral Huran. It caused quite a stir when a random screening showed him to be a psychic. Level two telekinetic, as I recall, and a spread of other abilities from three to four. We were never informed as to how he kept it hidden so long."

Nura touched at her left ear and gave it a good pinch. "Why would he hide? Wouldn't a psychic want to be around others of their kind?"

Vanta tapped his finger against Nura's ear-pinching. He didn't approve of childish mannerisms. "I remember it being said that Lieutenant Vaas was a gregarious young man. He could charm any sapient he met."

Nura frowned. "Because he could... psychic them?"

"No," Vanta said with a tiny smile. "Even over the comm. Natural talent. He used to help more awkward members of my staff find dates for the evening. He was good-natured and likable. It was important to him that those around him were at ease."

"I don't think I..."

Vanta turned to look at her as they walked. His amber eyes were piercing. "Does the man I describe sound like the one you just met?"

Nura thought back. Valano had been soft-spoken. Distant. Cold. "No," she said.

"That is what registration can do to a person, Nura," Vanta whispered. "Traces of what may make a man or woman a danger, wish for independence, or want to use their abilities for anything other than the Confederation is suppressed. Maybe erased. They enter the Psy-Agency as one thing, and they serve it as another."

Nura felt ill. How close had she come to receiving the same treatment?

"It's different from person to person," Vanta continued. "The more those traits are a part of them, the more dramatic the change will be. I imagine Agent Dhorl is much the same as she was before being registered; Talarians tend towards conformity and fealty. Valano Vaas, however, I would not have recognized him as the same man."

"Why are you telling me this, Uncle?" Nura asked.

Vanta didn't respond for a long moment. "I want you to know the truth of them, Nura. A psychic can be a monster, but most of them are like us. They're just people, albeit with abilities that can easily become a danger to the civilized galaxy, but people nonetheless. No better or worse than the rest of us. Don't hate needlessly."

She nodded, but it was difficult to take his meaning to heart. From her earliest years, she'd been conditioned to abhor the psychics. Mind readers, seers, precogs, and abominations.

"But, this is now behind us," Vanta went on. "Best to keep it there. I want you to put your mind to the future. With your mandatory screenings complete, you and Canas will be graduating from the Tovre soon."

Nura nodded but found her voice absent. With secondary school almost over, her higher education was about to begin. She didn't view it with the same excitement as Vanta, or even Canas.

"I expect the Space Operations Academy will be pleased to finally get you," Vanta said with pride. "It's been years since they've had a daj in attendance. Now they'll have you and your brother, as well as the Korrdeema boy."

Nura hummed an affirmative.

"I hear daj'Korr will be the pilot during your final exercise. Your first crew appears to be a competent one. I think you'll do well."

"Thank you, Uncle," Nura murmured. She kept her eyes on the floor ahead.

The crew was competent. Kalko was as fine a pilot as his pedigree would suggest, and even Velos was impressing the others. The only weak link was the crew's astrogator.

During the last simulations, she'd been slow in her calculations, losing critical time. The others were patient with her and attributed her failures to nerves. They didn't yet understand. Nura was going to let them down.

She was also distracted. Now that she knew to look, Nura began to notice the furtive glances and discreet hand touching between Canas and Meras. She eventually confronted Meras and asked her point-blank what was going on between her and Canas. Meras' ears took on a life of their own as she confessed to trysts and late-night comms.

It began soon after he asked her to be part of his crew. The two of them tried to keep it hidden for as long as possible, Meras worrying about how the relationship would impact Canas' reputation. She told Nura how Canas treated her. He never shied from encouraging her where others could hear, all but shouting over the comms that he knew she was the best. Canas gave her support when she wanted it and space when she needed it. In return, Meras enjoyed his starry-eyed outlook and the ease with which he could make anyone into a friend.

They were hopelessly smitten with each other.

Nura bit her lip and prepared herself for the next part. "I hope Canas will do well during the exercise," she said.

"I'm sure he will," Vanta replied. "Why? Are you worried?"

"Perhaps, Uncle. You're aware he asked Meras shi'Tomi to be his astrogator?"

Vanta nodded. "Mmm. Yes. Were it not for your endorsement of the girl, I'd be concerned. Has that changed?"

"Not at all," Nura said. "Meras has become quite dear to me. I consider her a friend. My closest friend, in fact."

Vanta sighed in resignation.

"I believe Canas worries about her," Nura continued. "He asked her to be his astrogator because he knows she's the best on the Tovre, but I think there's something else to it."

"Oh?" Vanta asked suspiciously.

"Her family is in decline, Uncle. It's rumored the Zhartomi might be dissolved once their patriarch's trial is over."

He nodded. "That's true. The charges against him are serious, girl."

"And once the Zhartomi are dissolved, what will become of Meras? I think Canas has let himself become distracted because he knows how much I care for her. I think part of why he asked her to be his astrogator was to help her prove herself during the final exercise. If she performs well, she might be invited into a family of good standing."

Vanta shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry, Nura, but I don't see that happening. The Zhartomi scandal is still fresh in everyone's memory, and few would invite it aboard their home."

"I thought as much," Nura said sadly. "Perhaps she might still marry well."

Her uncle made a thoughtful sound, but didn't say anything more.

That should do for now, Nura thought. If I push more, he'll see right through me.

"Do they..." Vanta cleared his throat. "Do they get along? I know she's your friend, but..."

Nura fought valiantly to keep a triumphant smile off her face. "Meras thinks well of him when he's not behaving like a lout."

Vanta laughed. "That boy. Please see to it he doesn't alienate her. Her family troubles aside, I would like to see a talent like hers working aboard a Ganlera Materiel ship someday."

Nura took Vanta's arm and held it against her. As they walked, she leaned her head against his shoulder. She could hardly remember Father anymore. Whenever she tried, it was Vanta's face she saw.

They arrived at the hardseal passage connecting the Agency frigate to the Tovre. A squad of Confed soldiers in gray body armor flanked the hardseal's entryway, rifles at the ready. They were Moirans, furred sapients with four legs and two arms. The tallest of them only came as high as Nura's chin, but they were wide at the shoulder and well-muscled. Their dour faces peered out from behind the visors of their helmets.

Nura hadn't realized that the frigate was a Moiran vessel, levied to the Confederation fleet from their government. It explained why the doorways were so broad. Canas had probably been able to tell the moment he boarded.

A soldier with rank insignia saluted as Vanta approached, a fist to the center of her chest. "Admiral," she said crisply. "Are you ready to disembark?"

"We are, Lieutenant," Vanta replied. "Thank you."

"Only a moment longer, sir," the lieutenant said. "Others are en route, and protocol dictates we open the doors as seldom as possible."

"Understood. Carry on as you see fit."

As they waited, a handful of students arrived at the hardseal. Nura greeted those she knew, and even the ones she didn't were cordial while in a saj's presence.

"Ah," Vanta said, "young daj'Korr. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Kalko bowed deeply. "It's an honor, Admiral saj'Gan. My grandfather speaks very highly of you."

Vanta laughed. "You can tell that old scoundrel that I haven't forgotten the thousand credits he owes me. If he wants back in my thrakous game, he needs to bring his credstick with him."

"I'll pass that on, sir," Kalko chuckled nervously. He glanced at Nura, his eyes wide.

Nura hid her smile. He was so awestruck to be near Vanta. It was all too easy for her to forget how much the Fleet idolized her uncle.

Vanta placed a hand on Nura's shoulder. "I hope my niece will be of use to you, daj'Korr. The exercise is next week, yes?"

"It is. I couldn't ask for a better astrogator, sir," Kalko said.

Liar, Nura thought. Still, it was kind of him to say. The more she worked with Kalko, the more she began to like him. Polite and friendly, he was an excellent choice to lead a crew. Kalko took to it naturally. The crush from Nura's younger years hadn't returned, but... she didn't discount the possibility.

"Hardseal secured," one of the soldiers said. The Moiran lieutenant keyed the airlock to open, then she began motioning for the students to cross through. Vanta led the way, Nura and Kalko following him through the passage.

"He's like I imagined him," Kalko whispered to Nura.

She stifled a laugh. "Boorish and irreverent?"

Kalko looked at her as if she just blasphemed. "What? No. He has so much presence. Dignity! I mean... look at him."

Nura did as asked just in time to catch Vanta scratching at his rear end. She looked back at Kalko. It was necessary for her to hold her breath to keep from bursting into a giggle fit.

Kalko pressed his lips together and lowered his eyes to the deck. "Well, presence."

"I'll grant that much," Nura conceded with a smirk. She would have to remind herself to compliment Vanta on his comedic timing. The old coot must've been eavesdropping.

The disembarking party was halfway through the hardseal passage when Nura felt every hair on her neck stand on end. It was similar to her frequent hunches, only more intense. So much more. As a luma torch compared to a supernova.

The hatch at the other end of the hardseal slammed shut, cutting Nura and Vanta's group off from the Tovre. The luma panels on the ceiling began to glow a dreadful crimson color, and a klaxon began to blare.

Nura covered her ears to shut out the noise. Fear stole her breath away. Had the Agents changed their minds? Were they coming to take her away for registration?

Kalko put a protective arm around Nura's shoulders. The four other students stopped in mid-stride.

"Uncle?" Nura shouted over the noise of the alarm.

Vanta was four steps into a dash back towards the frigate when he hesitated. He looked back to Nura, uncertainty in his eyes.

"Admiral!" the Moiran lieutenant shouted. "Come back and take cover."

Vanta gestured sharply for the students to follow him. Kalko took Nura by the wrist and pulled her after him back towards the Moiran soldiers.

"What is the meaning of this?" Vanta demanded once everyone was clear of the passage.

The lieutenant ushered them closer. "Hardseal clear," she said into a comlink integrated into her helmet.

A loud clang of metal reverberated through the deck. Nura looked back through the clear-steel windows on the airlock hatch. The hardseal passage retracted back into the frigate, and Nura saw the hull of the Tovre drift further away.

"Lieutenant!" Vanta was raising his voice. The tone he used was the one he reserved for command. Also for his shouting matches with the Ganlera matriarch.

"Escape attempt, Admiral," the Moiran lieutenant explained. "Agents are responding, but we must keep the airlock secure. Please, take cover."

An escape? Gods of Stone!

The students close enough to hear gave distressed cries. One boy turned as if to run before Kalko took him by the shoulder. "Steady," he told him before turning to the others. "Stay put and follow instructions. This is their job, so don't get in their way."

"Good lad," Vanta said. "Lieutenant, we need to keep the students out of harm's way."

The Moiran glanced at the group of young Threshpanians, then nodded to Vanta. "Aye, sir. Drent, see to them!"

Vanta took hold of Nura's shoulders. "Stay with these soldiers, Nura. They'll keep you safe. I have to see what I can do." His eyes went to Kalko. "I'm leaving you in charge of your peers, Daj."

Kalko stepped forward and gave a salute. "Yes, sir."

Before Nura could caution him to be careful, Vanta took off. He ran down the corridor and was gone from sight.

Don't be reckless, she thought. Her uncle was an old man. He was retired, but that wasn't considered a discharge. One never truly left the Service. An officer of the Confederation was expected to take up arms in an emergency regardless of age or inactive status.

Kalko gently took hold of Nura's wrist, his touch tentative. "Come," he said. "They're taking us somewhere."

Nura nodded her acknowledgment. Her ears twitched when she realized his proximity and exactly where he was holding on to her, but propriety was a low priority at the moment.

The soldier named Drent led the group of six students through a nearby hatchway. The Moiran ordered them to stay out of sight in a corner of the room— an engineering station filled with system terminals. He stayed long enough to make sure they were going to stay put before leaving the room at a gallop.

He was terrified, Nura thought. The soldier had maintained the same dour expression that all Moirans seemed to always have, but she felt his fear as if it were an exposed conduit throwing out sparks. That realization magnified her own anxieties.

A psychic was trying to escape. Another Threshpanian. Someone else who came to be screened before entering the next stage of education. One of her classmates.

Nura could understand the desire to run. If Valano had his way and ordered her to be registered, she might've tried to escape as well. Doubtless, she would have failed; her latent ability sounded like little more than an occasional lie detector and mood stone. What might the escapee be capable of?

A shudder ran through the frigate. Nura crouched and covered her head, and the other students did the same. Her eyes clamped shut as the bulkheads felt near to shaking themselves apart.

Above the noise, Nura heard a panicked Moiran voice shout out. "Contact! Pulsar in sight!"

Pulsar. The Confed military's phonetic alphabet. What were they referring to? Pulsar...

"Psychic," Kalko muttered.

Nura's breath left her. "Gods of Stone."

There were shouts just outside for the psychic to stop. The Moirans' voices bubbled over one another as they called orders for the escapee to lay down on the ground.

Nura's fur stood on end. She never felt it so powerfully before. Always, the voice in the back of her mind came as a whisper. Slight yet insistent hunches of what a person felt or when words didn't match their inner thoughts. Now, the voice screamed.

Fear. Hate. Flee. Hate! Despair. HATE!

There came another voice in her mind. Not her own. Whose? Oh, Gods of Stone, it was his voice, the fleeing psychic's. It was his!

I WILL NOT BE ONE OF THEM!

A cry carried through the door. A chorus of shouts followed by a deafening thunder of gunfire. One of the other students wailed in terror, and Kalko pulled Nura close to him.

Vanta. Where was her uncle? Please, gods of all Element, let him be safe.

The psychic's hate and fear were like a poisonous miasma. It choked the air around Nura, threatening to swallow her and make her a part of it. She began to lose herself within it— feel it as her own.

In the corner of the engineering station, Nura cowered. Her teeth were bared, every hair of her pelt stood on end, and her ears were pressed flat against her skull. Never in all her life had she felt emotions so fierce, so powerful, so raw. Not another's or even her own.

The gunfire stopped. It didn't cut off as one, not like an order to cease fire. It lessened, one weapon falling silent after another. The sounds that replaced it were far worse. Bloodcurdling screams that cut short.

The Confed soldiers were dying. They were dying. Nura could feel it. Spikes of horror lanced through the walls, followed by oblivion, and accompanied by what she could only describe as pure, cathartic satisfaction.

The psychic enjoyed the death he caused.

Nura wanted to throw up.

There came silence. Frightened whimpers from her classmates around her. Some might've been coming from Nura as well. If Kalko hadn't been keeping her steady, Nura thought she would've been clawing at a bulkhead to get away.

Then, the hatch to their sanctuary opened. It hadn't been keyed open but was ripped aside with a screech of shearing metal.

Framed in the hatchway was a boy, perhaps fourteen years old. His fur was black with gray spots over his eyes, and he wore the blue tunic uniform of a Tovre student. Nura felt her jaw drop as she recognized him.

Velos shi'Zhar.

He was a quiet boy, antisocial, often by himself and slow to speak to those around him. Nura sometimes thought Meras' twin a little odd, perhaps a touch arrogant, but never imagined him like this. Not a killer. Just a classmate.

"You're here, too," Velos said. His voice was so calm, as if he hadn't just walked through a storm of bullets and blood.

Nura looked behind him. She saw dark red pools on the deck of the frigate's corridor. The crumpled heaps of Moirans in Confed uniforms were strewn about the floor like piles of discarded trash. Shell casings lay in the puddles of blood, and weapons lay uselessly at the corpses' sides. The Moirans were ripped apart.

"Velos?" Kalko breathed. "What..."

There was a flash of something metallic shooting through the air. Kalko's grip on Nura's wrist tightened, then went limp. Nura felt something warm pour over her shoulder.

Kalko collapsed to the deck next to her, holding his hands to his throat as blood gurgled from between his fingers. His eyes were wide and frightened.

"I never liked him," Velos said softly.

Nura couldn't move. The only thing she could do was stare aghast as Kalko's blood ran over the floor.

Behind her, someone screamed.

There were more flashes through the air, and cries of pain echoed through the engineering station. Then, everything was quiet.

Nura felt tears mix with Kalko's blood on her cheeks. Horrified, she looked on the bodies of her classmates. Velos had killed them without hesitation.

"But you're different," Velos whispered. "You wanted to help us." He took a step towards her. "You're like me, aren't you?"

The foreign voice screaming in Nura's mind changed. It now spoke of desire— of lust. She saw in Velos' mind the things he knew he could make her do, using Nura as a puppet on the strings of his power.

He wanted her for a long time, the girl who held the daj, the niece of the famous admiral. She'd always been so high above him, out of his reach. Now she was here in front of him, and no one could stand against the power he kept hidden for so long.

An intangible force gripped Nura's entire body. She was pulled from the corner in which she hid towards Velos. The light in his yellow eyes was maddened. Nura felt the fabric of her tunic rip as it was torn from her shoulders. She was left with just her skirt and undershirt. Velos' hunger as he leered at her was palpable.

Nura struggled against his hold on her, but she couldn't move a muscle. The raw emotion being pressed into her skull began to overtake her. His desires were becoming hers. She found herself wanting him to take her. Together, they would run from the Nomadic Fleet. Anyone who tried to stop them would be torn apart.

Velos' hand reached for her.

A muffled shout roared in her ears, and Kalko lunged for Velos. His neck and the front of his tunic were awash in red. Kalko's fist connected with Velos' muzzle, knocking him back through the torn hatchway.

Kalko was too weak to continue fighting. He stumbled to his knees in the hatchway and held a hand to his throat to try to hold back the flow of blood.

Velos recovered and came to stand over Kalko. He used his power to pull one of the Moiran's swords from its scabbard and held it in the air over Kalko's head. "I'd rather you were Canas," he growled. "You're nothing to me, but him... Him, I would enjoy killing. When I find him, I'll rip him apart, piece by piece. That will teach him not to touch my sister."

Nura was still held in Velos' telekinetic grip. Her thoughts came back into focus when she heard the threats towards her brother. It awoke something primal within her. Velos wanted to harm Canas, the other half of her soul.

Nura's shout tore at her throat. "You... won't... hurt anyone else!" She found the echoes of Velos' mind within her. Her own thoughts seized upon them, like talons sinking into flesh.

The hold on her vanished without warning, and Nura fell to her knees. Velos recoiled as if struck and held his head in his hands. The sword clattered to the deck, and his muzzle contorting into a pained snarl.

The presence in Nura's mind thrashed wildly, struggling to be free of her. She wouldn't let go. By instinct, she dug her thoughts deeper into his, ripping and tearing, and she didn't let go. She savaged the part of him that violated her mind.

Velos howled. He braced himself, crouching low as if to pounce. Spent shell casings, dripping Moiran blood, rose around him. He glared hatefully at Nura. "I would've spared you," he said through his fangs.

Dhorl appeared behind him. Swift as a viper's strike, the Talarian woman pressed something to the base of Velos' skull, and he went rigid. The boy's jaw hung open and his eyes bulged as his powers were cut from him. The shell casings hanging in the air fell, then Velos went limp and collapsed.

The Agent gave a sigh of relief and turned to look at Nura huddled on the ground.

Kalko made a gurgling sound, and Valano Vaas came running to see to him.

Where had she come from? It didn't seem as if Dhorl had appeared from thin air, more like Nura had simply failed to notice her until she struck.

Nura's hands quested around her until they fell upon the remnants of her tunic. She clutched the ragged cloth over her chest to cover herself. Sobs of fear and revulsion caused her shoulders to shake.

Velos meant to take her and make her his plaything. He was going to make her want to be his plaything. Even now, she still felt the echoes of that hideous power flowing through her. Two voices howled as one, and she was unable to tell where hers ended and the other began. Psychics. They were monsters.

Gods of Water, she was a monster.

Nura whimpered as Dhorl knelt in front of her. A green-scaled hand touched Nura's cheek and brushed aside disorderly strands of her auburn hair. "It's over," Dhorl said soothingly. "You're safe."

Psychic. Just like Velos. Just like...

Nura flinched away from Dhorl's touch. The Talarian withdrew her hand, her fingers closing over her palm.

Valano pressed a cloth over Kalko's neck. The Fey'lin's eyes were cold and uncaring. "How?" he asked of Dhorl, his voice quiet.

"The boy overwhelmed Agents Kingman and Master 165," Dhorl said. "Before they were killed, Jonas entered the boy as a level one empath."

Level one, three ranks higher than Nura. She could sometimes read a sapient's emotions, but Velos... he could change them. He could overwrite what a person felt to turn them to his will.

He hid what he could do. Hidden it for so long. How could he have done that?

"Registration is necessary," Valano whispered.

"More than that," Dhorl said. "You saw what he could do. He also demonstrated level two telepathy, but that's the least of it. His telekinesis could counter ballistic projectiles. It wasn't like your kinetic barriers, but instantaneous deflection. He snagged the rounds out of the air. Even a level one telekinetic can't do that."

Valano nodded. "Level zero. The mandate is clear." He stood and stepped away from Kalko.

"He needs help," Nura rasped. "Please, Kalko's bleeding."

"Pacify and euthanize," Dhorl agreed. She looked at Nura, and her expression softened. "Some are too dangerous to allow to exist."

Euthanize? They were going to kill Velos. She had no room in her thoughts for that. Kalko was dying. "Please, help him!"

Dhorl pressed a clawed finger against Nura's forehead. In her innermost thoughts, Nura felt a sensation not altogether different from pushing something into a tight pocket. The lingering, tainted feeling of Velos' mind was taken away.

Valano knelt next to Velos' still form. "The other Threshpanian's wound is mortal. I do not have a medpack. There is nothing I can do."

Nura shot out a hand and gripped Dhorl's. "Please. He saved me. Help him."

The Talarian Agent shook her head. "I'm sorry. The psychic must take priority, or he might escape again." Dhorl made as if to leave, but she hesitated. Her eyes came back to Nura, now filled with something new. Suspicion.

"The boy was delayed. What did you do to him?"

Valano raised his voice, the first time Nura had heard him do so. "Dhorl, now! The inhibitor isn't rated for a zero. We need to get him below."

Dhorl nodded to him. She cast a final glance towards Nura, then with Valano's help she picked Velos up and dragged him off. Nura watched them take her former classmate away in disbelief.

Kalko was dying, and they'd do nothing? They truly were monsters.

She crawled to Kalko's side. His breaths were labored and his eyes were glazed as the blood continued to flow from his neck. He held the cloth Valano had given him to his wound. It appeared to have stemmed the bleeding some, but it wasn't enough.

"Are... you okay?" Kalko asked her. He didn't open his eyes as he spoke, the effort too much for him.

"Stay still," Nura sobbed. "I'll... I'll try to..."

Gods, but what could she do? Her biology courses hadn't prepared her for something like this.

A sound grabbed her attention. A moan. It was one of the soldiers, the lieutenant that had spoken to Vanta. Gods of Water, she was still alive!

Nura looked down either side of the corridor. The Agents were gone, and there was no one else around. Shouldn't the Agents have been able to tell that one of the soldiers had survived? Would they care if they did?

"Confed soldiers carry medpacks," Nura said to Kalko. "I'll get one for you, but I have to check on the lieutenant, too."

Kalko nodded and even managed a weak smile. "You can do it, Nura. You're... smartest girl... know."

She had to help, if only to prove to herself that she wasn't an unfeeling monster like the Agents or Velos. Nura crawled out of the engineering station and into the corridor.

The Moiran was on her back in a thick pool of blood, her helmet shattered and lying beside her. The lieutenant's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, as if she was trying to speak or maybe swallow. Then her head jerked and more blood gushed from her open mouth.

She was drowning. Pushing aside any thoughts of the carnage around her, Nura scrambled on all fours over to the soldier. She gently tilted the lieutenant's head to the side, letting the pooling blood in her mouth pour out so she could take a breath.

The lieutenant's chest looked as if it'd been slashed. Even the combat armor over her chest was torn open. Taking her ripped tunic, Nura pressed it over the wound, hoping it might slow the bleeding.

This wasn't something she'd been taught to treat on her own. Nura knew how to prime and inject a medpack, even clean a bad cut with antiseptic, but this...

Medpack! Nura pawed at the lieutenant's belt until she found what she was looking for. Two medpacks, filled with precious biosol. She whispered a short prayer as she primed one and injected it into the Moiran's neck.

She needed to be careful where she placed the injection relative to the wound, otherwise the biosol would just stagnate or bleed out of the wound before it could help. Basic first-aid was something she remembered. Top marks, even.

The lieutenant's lungs might still be filled with blood. A pulmonary laceration. The specifics of such injuries came flooding back to her. The biosol could alleviate that somewhat, but Nura would need a decompression nodule and a tracheal respiration aid to give her a better chance at survival.

For now, the bleeding stopped, and the Moiran appeared able to breathe. Nura didn't stay longer. Kalko was in just as dire of need, and there was nothing more Nura knew of that she could do for the Moiran with what was at hand. Nura ran back to Kalko's side, almost slipping on the pooling blood.

The second medpack was already primed by the time she reached him. Nura pulled up Kalko's tunic, exposing his chest, and injected him right above the heart.

Kalko grunted as the injector pierced him. His breathing was so slow, several heartbeats between each one. The wound in his neck was sealing up visibly, and the bleeding stopped.

Nura looked around them. There was so much blood. Kalko had lost far too much.

Gods of Water, help me. "Kalko?" she whispered.

He didn't respond. The only sound he made was his slow, labored breathing.

Biosol bonded to cells in the bloodstream and replicated to form a synthetic plasma when needed. It would be doing so now, but Nura didn't know if it would come in time to save him.

Nura was overwhelmed. For the first time since Vanta gave her the daj, there wasn't someone beside her to tell her what needed to be done. There was no plan. No easy answer. It was just her, and that terrified her.

She didn't know what to do.

"Help," Nura called out. Her voice sounded small and weak in her ears, as if most of it had been stolen away. She took two shaky breaths and forced herself to be louder. "Please, he needs a doctor! Help!"

Nura cried out for someone to find her, anyone to tell her what needed to be done. Helpless, she shouted until she lost her voice again and Kalko's body had long since gone still.