"Enough!" Another Black Blade moved to stand between them. "Explain this!" He glared at the humans.

Sal submitted to the tone of authority, her anger dissipating into shame. When her head dropped, the arms holding her loosened slightly, never touching anything but her uniform. Across from her, two other Blades held her attackers firmly.

"I'm sorry, sir," Sal said, hoping she could salvage this. "They gave me orders that conflicted with those of Sergeant Dico. My response was out of line and the Lance Corporal felt it was worthy of discipline."

"The damned beast tried to attack me," the recruit jeered. "Can't trust the iliri, I tell ya. You ever see what happens when one of those fucks bites you?"

In her ear, a rough voice whispered, "I'm gonna let ya go. Do na hurt them."

A nod showed she understood and he released her. Sal took the time to straighten her uniform, then tugged her cap tighter over her ears.

The First Sergeant waited for her to look up. "Is that all?"

"The discipline caught me off guard, sir. I reacted instinctually. The Lance Corporal felt threatened, so decided more discipline was needed."

"I see." The Blade turned to the soldiers. "Anything to add?"

"Yeah. The damned scrubber disobeyed orders – "

The officer cut him off, but never showed a sign of emotion. "No, the Private was following her superior's orders. Our trials are not the place for you to throw your rank around." He shook his head. "Zep, Cyno, escort them to the Lieutenant. Razor, I think they were yours?"

"Two and ten. The other's Shift's."

"Well, check the rest in and assign them rooms. I need to speak with the Private."

"Yes, sir," the Blades said in unison.

The man behind her moved to relieve Razor, the pair of them sharing a look before heading their separate ways. That left her alone with the First Sergeant, her stomach in knots. She'd already ruined her chance, reacting like an animal to a common disagreement. Why hadn't she submitted? Why did she always feel the need to fight back? Her stupid instincts were going to keep her trapped behind a desk serving humans for the rest of her life! All that was left was the formal dismissal from the trials. She braced herself against hearing the words.

"Private Luxx, right?" he asked, ducking his head to look at her face.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm Arctic, the First Sergeant of the Black Blades, second in command of the unit." When she said nothing, he continued, "I would appreciate it if you'd answer my questions more honestly next time."

Her head snapped up, finding eyes nearly as white as her own waiting. "Sir?"

A kind smile preceded his words. "We all saw what happened, Private. In order for something to count as discipline and not cruelty, it requires disobedience. Pride is not disobedience, do you understand?"

She cocked her head to the side, trying to decide if she believed what his words hinted at. His white eyes made her want to, but turning exposed the bruise on her temple. Arctic grabbed the side of her face, tilting it for a closer look. She sucked in a breath. At his touch, snippets of conversations and images flooded her mind.

"Private?" he asked. She may need a medic. There's a nasty bruise on her head and her lip was split. I can't believe those fucks thought we'd look the other way while they abused -

Sal pulled her face from his hand. "I'm fine, sir."

His pale eyes watched her for a long moment. "Think you're up to finishing the trials?"

No matter how she tried, she couldn't prevent the corner of her lip from rising. "Yes, sir." The feral smile was taking over. She wasn't done yet. "It would take more than a bruise to stop me, sir."

Well, she's determined, Sal heard, even though Arctic's mouth didn't move. And I don't want to get your hopes up, but I think we have something special here. You've got to see this.

"Thank you, sir," Sal said, shocked at the compliment.

"For?"

She swore she'd just heard him compliment her. The words had been in his voice, but he acted like he'd said nothing. His mouth hadn't moved. Quickly she blurted out something plausible. "For allowing me to continue, sir. I assumed that's what you meant."

LT, I think we have a problem. "It is. Report to Shift. He already knows that you've been detained."

She snapped a salute. "Thank you, sir."

Turning to find her assigned officer, she made it a few steps before he called her name again, the words clear. "Private Luxx?"

She turned back. "Yes, sir?"

"Shit." He gestured for her to wait. She can hear us. A pause followed, then, I touched her. She's pure, and we have no experience with that. There's so few left. Another pause. I can't be sure. I didn't link her in to begin with. I can shut the whole thing down, but I have no idea if I can cut her line. The next pause was longer. Understood. His eyes focused on her again. "So how much of that did you get?"

Years of practice kept her face expressionless. "I heard you call my name, sir."

"Bullshit." He smiled slyly. "Let's try this again, because I didn't do more than think your name and you smell like lies."

Ice washed down her body leaving her skin tingling in its wake. She'd heard, he knew she'd heard, and he didn't think she was crazy. Had she hit her head that hard? Why wasn't he surprised? "It's only a minor bruise, sir. I'm sure I'll be fine in a moment."

"You think that's because you were hit in the head?"

"I'm an iliri, sir, not a fool." She dared him to deny it.

Arctic actually laughed. "I never thought otherwise, Luxx. Now, let me assure you that your answer will not disqualify you from the trials. How much of that did you catch?"

Defeated, but comforted by the promise that they wouldn't be kicking her out yet, Sal answered. "I heard you say I had a bruise, that you didn't want to get someone's hopes up, that you can shut the thing down, and then you called my name."

"And did you hear the other person?" His eyes scanned her face. "Don't worry, I just need to know."

Relaxing slightly, Sal said, "No, sir. Just you, sir."

"At least there's that." He sighed, running his fingers through his long dark hair. "No, you're not losing your mind. What you're hearing is a trick of my own iliran ancestry. Usually, I have to consciously allow someone to hear our thoughts. When did it start?"

She thought back. "When you touched me, sir."

"Ah." He nodded to himself. "Physical contact. That makes sense. I guess you came with the switch on. Look, I can't lock you out, not yet – since I'm not sure exactly how you got in – but I'd appreciate if you keep this to yourself for the time being."

A chuckle escaped. "And who would I tell, sir?"

"Good point." His shoulders relaxed and he tilted his chin behind her. "Now go find Shift. He'll assign you rooms." Arctic turned away before she could salute.

Confused, she tried to push the strangeness out of her mind. She wasn't here to wonder about the mysteries of the world or believe in miracles. She just had to get a position as an elite soldier. Maybe the whole thing was some practical joke, intended to make her look crazy. That would be a good way to get her excused from the trials, but it seemed she hadn't ruined her chances yet.

Sal jogged to the meeting area just on the other side of the fountain. The man called Shift leaned casually against the fence, three soldiers in blue uniforms standing before him. The color of his skin hinted at iliran ancestry in him, as well. He looked up before she got close, pushing away from the wood rails to offer his hand. Sal took it out of habit, then fell into place beside the other soldiers.