“Recruits?” asks Dalib while I’m piecing together that this is the Captain of the ship that I’m going to be going on. I note he’s stopped eating and is paying close attention.

  “Yeah,” says Kaltor, who pauses his eating and looks Dalib in the eye. “I’m reassigning you to Reyes and the Birchcombe. One time deal.”

  Dalib hesitates just long enough for me to know this is unexpected, then he snaps back into the kind of formality that says a lot about how he feels about it.

  “Of course, sir. Whatever you need.”

  “I need you to train Calrik, and watch his back,” Kaltor says with a casual nod of his head in my direction. None of this was expected when I entered the mess hall and I can’t help but wonder if Kaltor planned this - to have Dalib here, to do it in public and send whatever signal needs to be sent in front of a lot of ESF troopers. Is Reyes part of it? My mind dissects everything that’s happening into a hundred pieces, but really I’m none the wiser.

  “And kill him if he’s infected by that… thing,” says Reyes flatly, not nearly quiet enough for me despite the fact that everyone’s given our table a wide berth.

  “He’s not infected, Simon,” says Kaltor with a glance at his fellow Captain and a quick shake of his head, framed by his long hair, with his lips pressed together in exasperation. Kaltor’s use of his name doesn’t seem to soften his stance much.

  “It’s my job to protect humanity from aliens, Corvin. And there’s something about you that doesn’t line up.”

  I hold strong against his aura and the pressure it exerts on me, wanting me to submit to him and his version of the world. Fuck that. I’ve done nothing but the right thing despite all the shit that’s been thrown my way. Captain Reyes stands up.

  “I’ll see you at the sparring. Send me the Rank results,” he says to Kaltor who nods. I feel like a thousand eyes are on me, but it might just be my imagination.

  “Eat up, kid,” says Kaltor once it’s just the three of us again. “Might be a while before you get a meal that’s this high quality again.” I agree the food is exceptionally good, and starship food is known to be average at best.

  “You sure about this reassignment, Captain?” asks Dalib. “He seems like a dick.”

  “All the more reason, Dalib. The ESF has no doubt whatsoever that Strike Leader Reyes will gladly terminate Calrik at the first sign of a humanity-ending monster. I’ll have a word with him before you go.” My discomfort is at maximum with Kaltor’s statement, but he’s waving his hand around with his fork in it, a potato speared on the end so I know at least from Kaltor’s perspective it’s not a big deal.

  “Understood,” says Dalib.

  “Take care of whatever business you need to and grab your stuff, then meet us in the closed sparring rooms in an hour,” Kaltor tells Dalib. His tone doesn’t indicate it’s an order, but that doesn’t stop Dalib from standing without finishing the last part of his meal and leaving to follow Kaltor’s directions.

  “I don’t have a lot of time before I have to leave on a mission of my own,” Kaltor says as he stands up and I follow his lead. “Let’s get the initial testing done and then you can have a go at the fun stuff.”

  We deposit our dishes in the drawers provided and leave. The way everyone moves to stay out of our way feels over the top now that I’m used to it and Kaltor doesn’t seem to demand it. There’s always an apex predator lurking just beneath the surface with him though. It’s easy to forget but I’ve seen myself how fast he can act, and I guess a hundred years of service in the ESF deserves some respect. As we walk down the halls, Kaltor begins explaining a few things to me.

  “Among other things, this is an ESF testing facility. Functional testing in the ESF is the real measure of Powers and determines your Rank, although feats of service and other factors can alter it. It is possible that your ESF Rank is different from your Dungeon Run Profile or even your EDF Rank, but broadly they should be in line.”

  We turn right and wait for some people to pass. What he’s saying is something I know about already at a high level.

  “Broadly, but not exclusively, Ranks are based on a combination of your ability to lay down punishment and your survivability. If you know someone’s Rank, you should have an idea of what kind of shit they can deal with.”

  “But of course those are situation dependent,” I finish for him. He looks at me sideways.

  “You want to give this lecture, kid? I’m trying to help you - but if you already know it all… we can skip this bit?”

  “Sorry,” I say, and I mean it. I might know a lot through being around my parents and people with Powers plus my studies at school, but I definitely don’t have a hundred years of experience.

  “To me, everything is rubbish except functional testing. All the theories about what Power trumps what Power or what’s the strongest doesn’t mean much,” he says as he stares into a scanning mechanism and places his palm on a panel in the wall. Although he doesn’t mention it, I notice we seem to be following a red line that runs along the floor, one of many that join and leave the corridors as we go deeper almost as if it’s a subway map.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Take me, for instance. On paper some Superheroes or Supervillains should be able to put me down without breaking a sweat. What that doesn’t take into account is how well someone uses their Powers. How much training have they done with them? Can they adapt to any situation or are they a one trick pony? Has someone leveraged their Powers to go well beyond what you might have expected?”

  We come to a large, abandoned granite reception desk in a circular room with some comfortable seats and a dozen metal doors spaced evenly around the wall. It has hints of similarities with the desk we arrived at for enrollment, but this one is pure function rather than aesthetics. Kaltor reaches over the desk like he’s done it a hundred times and does something I can’t see. When he leans back away from the desk one of the doors slides open. It’s thick, really thick, and I wonder why nobody else is around.

  “This way,” Kaltor says, and motions sideways with his head toward the door. As he leads me there another door opens and three normal looking people emerge, one of them wearing an ESF uniform. They seem happy and are joking around which actually raises my spirits a bit and reminds me that it’s not always like this… if I can just get through this mission.

  “Holy shit, isn’t that -” Whatever the person was about to say gets cut off when the door closes behind us. We’re now standing in a short hallway with another door a few meters ahead of us. On the wall to our right is a glass panel that’s lit up with a number of icons and a schematic of a body. It looks different than any medical diagnostic screen.

  “Or take Dalib,” Kaltor says, continuing his previous train of thought, and I can see he wants me to be paying attention to what he’s saying rather than what I can see here. “He has leveraged his Power far beyond what a person without dedication and creativity would be able to achieve. Like I said, pay attention to what he’s done and it might help you.”

  Kaltor glances at me with a lopsided grin and punches a code into the upper right part of the panel. New icons rearrange on the screen and the body schematic lights up. In the upper left corner, three empty boxes with green borders appear and the rest of the icons fall into place in a number of rows.

  “Stand here,” Kaltor says and points to a spot on the ground that’s unremarkable. I glance up and sure enough above where he’s pointing there is a panel on the ceiling. I take a couple steps and stand under it. “This scan is just setting a baseline for us on your physical condition and it registers your brain waves and other factors that might change in the future if your Power changes, or give the ESF a clue as to how to best train you. In your case I’m not expecting much that’s useful. Probably the machine will go haywire, but we’ve got to do it and get it certified.”

  The scan ends and the door at the other end of the hallway opens. I follow him through into a big gymnasium the shape of a slice of pie with very high ceilings. There’s equipment, targets, and stations with readouts of some kind everywhere within the gym. Kaltor taps a few times on another panel and everything powers up. On the far side of the gym, a person stands up and begins to walk toward us. A short, stocky man in denim shorts and a plain green t-shirt with very dark skin. I’m surprised at his outfit.

  “This is Gary,” says Kaltor to me.

  “Strike Leader,” says Gary to Kaltor with a nod.

  “Gary, this is Calrik Corvin.”

  Gary sticks his hand out and I take it. His handshake is firm and that’s all. No contest of strength or dominance. His face is round and open. I pull his information.

  Gary “Benchmark” Coles (Researcher)

  Rank estimate: F-

  Level: 109

  Power: Power Divination (Tier 2 Major)

  Conditions: None

  “Oh! That’s a pretty unique ability,” says Gary while he looks at me.

  “Don’t underestimate Gary,” says Kaltor. “His Power is a great example of one that doesn’t show up highly on any of our main measurements. In the right circumstances though, his Power is incredible.”

  “Fascinating,” says Gary. I can see he means it. Then he turns his attention to Kaltor. “He the one getting tested?” Kaltor nods.

  “He’s got an unusual Power that doesn’t register but maybe you can sense it? You’re going to have to forge the records once we’re done.”

  “A Power that maybe even fooled that contraption on your ship? I’ve never heard of that. No problem though, we can sort that,” affirms Gary.

  “Isn’t that… illegal?” I ask. Kaltor laughs, and his grizzled face opens up a small crack of genuine amusement.

  “Maybe for some,” he allows. “But after this you’ll have legit identification that states your identifiable Powers.”

  “Should we get started?” Gary asks. “I don’t have that long.”

  “Please,” agrees Kaltor.

  “What do I have to do?” I ask. I’m just as interested as they are in what my Powers actually are, maybe more.

  “Mind taking my hand again?” asks Gary. “I got an initial read, but for a certified classification I need to be thorough and precise.”

  “Except for the bit you leave out,” Kaltor reminds him.

  “Exactly,” Gary agrees, and looks at me expectantly, waiting. I guess if your Rank is F- you can’t afford to piss people off. I wonder if he can see my Powers and Rank the same way I can see his, or how everything shows up for him. Does the world look totally different with a Divination Power?

  “Sure,” I tell him, and hold out my hand. As he takes it, I ramp up my Perception to try to sense what he’s doing and draw some Mana into myself to see if that helps sense what he’s doing. None of it works. We stay that way for maybe half a minute, which seems like a long time.

  “Raw Ranking is probably E, maybe on the border of E+ just based on physical enhancements,” says Gary to Kaltor. “Decent Damage Reduction Index that pushes it into E+ for sure. Very significant Health Regen would be a big advantage in an extended engagement, but for short engagements I’m not sure. Definitely not enough to push him to D Rank. Depending on what combat training he’s had I’d say minimum E+, possibly into D. Start there.”

  “Thanks Gary. E+ to start with sounds good. We don’t want people getting too worked up.”

  “Got it, will do,” Gary says, releasing my hand. “Calrik, I’ll give you some advice for free. You’ve got a half decent Mana pool that’s messy and chaotic. Find yourself someone who’s got a Mana Manipulation or Channelling Power and observe their Mana in action or get them to teach you. My guess is you’d already be into D Rank if it wasn’t so clear you don’t do any work with it.”

  “Thanks Gary,” I say, and I mean it.

  “Through there, Calrik,” says Kaltor, and points back to where we came in, then gives Gary a wave and focuses back on me.

  “What’s your weapons of choice?”