Her yer go yer miserable sci-fi fans…. Now don't says I never giver ya nothing.

I kid, Merry Xmas kids.

Crazy, xxx

She was falling fast, until a great many hands reached out and stopped her hitting bottom.

She opened her eyes for a moment, but didn't take in her surroundings. They closed again almost instantly. She couldn't quite gauge what was happening.

An hour later she heard noises, and felt her upper body being supported. She tried to ask what was happening, but her brain and body didn't seem to be connected.

She felt the vomit rise to her mouth. But she couldn't move. She feared for a moment she would choke, until she was rolled over. Her eyes wouldn't open, and her limbs were dead to her. Arms held her and a voice that was somehow familiar tried to give comfort and to lull her back to sleep.

She woke again later, this time her eyes opened to find she was not in med-lab. She had been saved from her friends becoming aware her latency was now a thing of the past. Susan did not recognise this part of the station by sight immediately. Still groggy and disorientated, she called out in a faint mumble to the room.

"Where am I?"

"Somewhere safe." The voice she heard earlier replied. She knew it now and looked to the end of the bed she was lain on.

"Byron?" She called, still unsure of what was waking and what where her dreams.

"Indeed." He replied, before standing and kneeling down beside the head of the bed. His black clothes seemed to juxtapose his blond hair dramatically, and he held her in his gaze, not willing to let her slip away from him. "You were unconscious for a few hours, it seems you had a mind burst Captain. We thought it better for all concerned if you remained here with us."

Hours, she thought. She knew that she couldn't be out of reach long. She had to get back to being the captain before they realised she wasn't topside.

"I have to get back." She announced, sitting up suddenly, trying not to fall prey to the sudden rush to her head as she did so.

"I wouldn't advise-" Byron began before she cut him short.

"What if they need me?" She asked, not willing to reason with a man of no authority. "If I'm missing they'll come looking for me."

Byron sighed, seeing how stubborn she was going to be, and that he would not stop her should she choose to leave. "Very well." He uttered, standing and folding his arms.

She dropped her legs off the same side of the bed that Byron stood and raised herself to her feet. But it did not last for more than a moment before her legs gave way and Byron, seemingly prepared for what would happen, caught her.

He held her up for a moment, despite her wish to lie back down. He knew he had to make his point clear to her. "You're not strong enough yet. If you walk out that door I fear you would be unconscious within a few seconds." His grip loosened and he sat her back down, his voice descending into his usual calm and rational tones.

"Don't worry." He informed her, taking her hand, "It is safe here."

Ivanova listened to the silence for a moment, before realising that she had no thoughts of others entering her head anymore. Not even the residual strong emotions that she could pick up off people before this had started. It was utterly quiet.

"Why can't I hear them?" She asked, almost alarmed by the lack of thoughts.

Byron tapped his fore and middle finger to his temple. "That would be me. The population of this station were too strong for you. I'm afraid I'm all that stands between you and the floor."

He paused for a moment, as if to gauge whether now was a suitable time to engage her in explanation.

"It would seem we have much to discuss." He began, as he sat beside her, "I fear that your headache has come to fruition and its natural conclusion." Susan leaned forward and placed her head in her hands in half desperation and half nausea.

"Oh God." She murmured, feeling Byron pulling her back upright through fear she would still fall.

"You knew?" He asked factually, no judgement in his voice.

She sighed dryly, not wanting to believe it were true. She didn't want to have this life.

"I've been a latent teep since I was a child. My mother was a telepath. I'd hoped it wasn't…" She trailed off, unable to finish her train of thought in her current state.

Byron was silent for a moment, before he decided to continue his line of questioning.

"Strange isn't it? How you have an asset that most humans cannot even begin to comprehend, but you would give anything not to have this gift. Because we are what we are, we must deceive those around us, or live isolated lives. Will you tell your friends what you have become?"

"I couldn't." Susan shook her head, "I couldn't have them think of me as a liability. And I don't know how I'd explain…" She paused in mid-sentence again, the shock of her mind bust still weighing heavy on her.

"Do you know how this came about?" He continued. "Latents usually reach development at a young age; your case is very rare."

"I have an idea…" She began, knowing exactly how it had come about but unsure how to explain. "I don't think I can… It's very difficult to talk about." She finally decided.

Byron nodded, seeing that it would be no simple thing to understand, so he decided to ask no more.

"You were dreaming, quite vividly." He told her, wondering what had prompted her to cry out in her sleep.

"When I was five the corps tested me," She explained, knowing he would probably be familiar with the routine. "I was so afraid. I thought I'd loose everything. My mother taught me how to fool the tests but I just wanted to run and hide. I haven't had a nightmare about it in years."

Her mind cast back to her dream, all the details nightmarishly vivid in her mind. She could see her mothers face as she held was held by her. And the sum of the events came together and she found tears rolling silently down her face.

" I'm sorry." She whispered to Byron, willing her tears to cease.

"It's alright." He uttered, before adding on "You've had quite a shock." He let her weep for a few minutes, and let her gather herself together. After a time, he saw will exercise itself and stop the tears. At this point, he stood and stretched out his hand in front of her.

"Come." He asked of her.

"Where?"

He smiled, trying to appear more inviting to her vulnerability. "There are people I want you to meet."

Susan had never seen such a contradiction in terms. Down below still had it's pipes and underdeveloped industrial surroundings, but had been curtained and beds lain down. This did not seem like the home of Vagrant refugees, but of quietly resting nomads, tucking themselves away amongst untold poverty.

Byron had to aid her in walking, her head still didn't seem to be directly connected to her body, therefore she had to lean on him a great deal in order to remain upright.

The telepaths were occupied in a variety of ways. One sat on the floor reading a book, some were eating, mending clothes, sleeping, writing, all in silence. As her and Byron passed they looked up and smiled at Byron who smiled back. For the first time she appreciated that this was possibly the first time in their lives that the telepaths had not been oppressed or afraid. The simplest of things were a symbol of the normal life they had been so far denied because of their abilities.

Byron stopped in his tracks, the young man now sitting cross legged at Byrons' feet playing chess with the man opposite looked up. Realising who stood there, he rose silently, nudging his friend hard on the shoulder as he stood. The other man looked up and then took up a place beside his friend as they were introduced.

"This is Patrick, and this is James." Byron introduced them formally, noting the game of chess they had been playing. "They were the ones who brought you here."

"Thank you." Popped out of her mouth, not particularly sure what to say to two chess playing telepaths.

She noticed Byron seemed to silently dismiss them and they sat back down. Byron seemed to be in authority, but did not seem to exercise it consciously. She saw how it was him the telepaths raised their heads too, when all else they seemed to ignore.

One of them picked up a pawn and began to move it before Byron spoke.

"Not there," He advised. "He'll have check in three moves."

The telepath put the piece down and began to reconsider, before Byron announced to all the people gathered in the area. A silent signal was sent between them all, each one called to attention remaining seated around their leader.

"This is Susan." Byron announced to all the telepaths, suddenly making her feel very uneasy as the telepaths looked up at her. In protecting her, Byron had also cut her off from any thoughts they might have had towards her. It was as if she were deaf and the whole room was shouting.

"She has just discovered her talent, and we must help her burden this." He continued before turning to her.

"We will teach you, if you wish to learn."

Hours later she was able to hold up her defences on her own. She was exhausted, but found she could now walk in a straight line. Gradually, the number of telepaths around her declined until it was just her and Byron, and the outside noise of the quarter million voices was gone by her own doing.

After a time they both stood and walked away, Susan not too sure she wanted to stray from this poverty ridden sanctuary. Silence passed between them, Ivanova unsure as to what she felt towards these people or to Byron. He watched her carefully, seeing every flicker of thought darting behind her eyes until finally he could stand it no more and asked his foolish question.

"Will you stay with us?"

At first she thought to laugh. The idea was ridiculous, she couldn't ever be a part of his group of followers. Realising he was serious she formed a reply.

"We live in two different worlds Byron. In here, down here it's safe for you and the others to be who you are. But I don't live here; I can't suddenly become part of this."

"I'm not asking you to." He replied frankly, seeing she had taken his question more literally than it had been intended.

" I'm asking you to see this as a gift, not as an abnormality. I know this is difficult, but your friends, they will never see the world as we do."

Susan disliked that- how he seemed to think less of normals than he did of telepaths. It wasn't outright hatred as she had seen from Garibaldi, but it was certainly more tolerance than acceptance.

Byron could see that she hadn't reached the level of understanding he had hoped to attain with her. He paused mid step and grabbed her firmly on the arm.

"They see black and white, not the grey between the two. When they hold each other they know only that which they touch, but we know every inch of each other, every fibre and thought."

Realising the pressure he held her arm in he let go, realising that physically offending her would not help his case. Perhaps he should try a different approach.

"Before the corps took your mother, did she ever make contact with you?"

It seemed odd that he would even ask. He must of felt the mental footprints searing in her memory. None the less she replied.

"Yes."

"And what do you remember about that?

She paused, trying to find a way to put it into words. It wasn't comprehendible verbally.

"That she loved me. I can't describe it." She finally gave out.

"The most profound feeling of love." He seemed to ask more than confirm. "We live within that, that which we all lost to the corps."

He had given her a great deal to consider, and considering the length of the day, or night as it was, Byron thought perhaps he should approach this subject again at another time.

"How do you feel?" he changed the subject as they stood awkwardly side by side.

"Better." She stated, feeling such strange tension between them. Both leaders clashed ideologically, but at the same time, were very much in tune with each other.

"Then why are you still here?" he smiled, verging on poking fun at her. But the dis-armingness of familiarity was not quite there.

"I'm… I'm not ready to go back yet." Ivanova began, feeling that deep down she didn't want to leave these people, or indeed this person. This seemed to be the only security she now had. "I don't even know who I am, let alone if I can face them." She continued, glancing upward.

He weakly smiled again and stepped closer to her, squeezing her arm again. "You're strong; you've always been strong."

Suddenly he grimaced and his head bowed forward as he groaned in what appeared to be a sudden headache.

"Byron?" Her concern for him was sudden, and more than she would have thought at this stage.

"I'm alright," He whispered lifting his head, fatigue now in his voice. "Just tired. It took a lot to hold you."

For the first time it occurred to her that this was complete charity on Byrons part. After their first meeting she wouldn't have been surprised if she had been dumped outside med lab. But he had gone out of his way, even put himself through a great deal to help her. She saw such strength in him, and felt weak in comparison.

"I don't know if I can be strong anymore." She mumbled, unsure that she could return to the other side of her world. Insecure and uncertain, she set her head against Byrons shoulder as he embraced her.

We'll be back with chapter 3 after these messages-

Apologies (to Hilary Weston in particular) for lack of Marcus… he should be in part 3…. If I can find the draft I wrote of it.

Crazy Ranger: