Psionics

As for why Rick Kidd, a sniper, had joined an ordinary Marine squad, that was easy enough to understand.

Although the Confederate Marine Corps usually formed a special tactical squad around a sniper to carry out more covert missions, Rick was a new recruit and clearly lacked the experience.

Only after gaining some real combat experience, earning commendations that proved his abilities, and obtaining his Marine sniper certification would Rick be able to form or join a special tactical squad on his own.

Of all Rick's evaluations and reports, Augustus was most interested in several comments from Sergeant Peters, an instructor at the training camp: he had a pair of eyes as sharp as an eagle's, extraordinary hand-eye coordination, and an extremely rare X-factor.

Sergeant Peters added a fairly detailed note in parentheses about the X-factor: this kind of talent was exceptionally rare in our species. Usually, only one person in every thousand to ten thousand had it.

The X-factor's specific advantage in sniping was a kind of inexplicable sniper's intuition. Some snipers with this talent even claimed that, for the two or three seconds before they pulled the trigger, time seemed to slow dramatically. This was clearly related to supernatural phenomena.

We still knew very little about this talent, while geneticists believed that this special ability, latent in some humans, was connected to a form of "psionics." We could be certain that (the following text had been crossed out with a pen) the military had launched a research program into psionics long ago.

In some remote regions so far from the core worlds that communications with civilized society had been cut off, locals called psionics "witchcraft." The religions founded on this belief, as well as the new gods and religions that had sprung from it, were too numerous to count.

At present, we could be certain that the recruit Rick Kidd was a rare psionic.

Based on Augustus's past knowledge of StarCraft, Rick's psionic abilities probably weren't very strong. As far as he remembered, only those with a PSI rating of 5 or higher—the psionic scale established by the Confederacy—could use telepathy.

"Rick, no offense, but I'd like to confirm something. As a psionic, can you read minds? Of course, the more official term would be telepathy."

Augustus turned to Rick, who looked bewildered by his question. "In other words, can you hear other people's 'inner voices' and read their thoughts?"

"Why would you ask that? Of course I can't." Rick stared at him for a few seconds, then thought it over seriously before answering. He already knew what the report said, so Augustus's words didn't surprise him.

"Oh, your P-1 report mentioned psionics. I'd heard that all psionics could read minds, that they could tell what people were thinking even when they didn't say a word," Augustus said.

"I really can't do that." Rick shook his head. "Does it bother you?"

"Yes, but it's not that I hate psionics or psionics themselves," Augustus said frankly. "I'm just not used to having someone beside me who can read my thoughts at any time. It makes me uncomfortable. At the very least, if you're reading my thoughts, I'd like to know."

"I understand. 'Privacy of thought' is very important to people, too." Rick tried to imagine the issue from Augustus's perspective, as he'd put it, and realized he couldn't tolerate that kind of telepath either. It would be terrifying if people had no privacy from one another.

"Your psionic rating probably isn't very high, so you don't show many supernatural abilities." Augustus put all the documents back into the storage bag. "I've heard that some powerful psionics are practically gods in the flesh."

"They can see the vilest things buried deep in your heart with a single glance, control your thoughts, enslave your soul, or simply make your head explode."

"That sounds just like magic." Rick looked confused. "But the education I received growing up taught me that the universe runs on scientific, physical laws."

At this point in time, human psionics such as the Ghost operatives from the original game hadn't yet appeared in the public eye, so it was no surprise that Rick knew little about the subject.

Psionic potential was widespread among the human populations of the Koprulu Sector, and every study related to psionics seemed to show that this potential had been inherited from their ancestors. What's more, psionics seemed to be evidence that humans were still evolving, gradually growing stronger with each new generation.

However, so far, exceptionally powerful psionics often couldn't control their abilities when young because of their immature minds. They might hurt themselves or others, and a considerable number of psionics died in early childhood.

Rick's psionic abilities were fairly average—not especially powerful, but still enough to give him some abilities ordinary people didn't possess.

"...You're right." Augustus shrugged, pulled out his personal terminal, and brought up a group photo of the platoon taken at the end of recruit training, ready to end the topic. "Enough about that. You're new here, so let me introduce you to everyone in Third Platoon, First Squad. That way, you won't get into trouble because you don't know their bad habits."

"Okay." Rick nodded.

"I'm the acting squad leader, Augustus Mengsk. I'm from Korhal IV, and my family's more or less aristocratic." Augustus pointed to himself, then to the personal terminal.

"That messy, dirty redhead with a grin that stretches from ear to ear is Harnack Hank. But don't let that fool you—you'd better not mess with him."

"This is Jim Raynor, the black-haired kid with the buzz cut. He looks a little too serious in the photo, but he was actually trying not to laugh... He's easy to get along with."

"Tom Omo is the youngest of us. He may be shy and clumsy, but he's a great kid. He often talks in his sleep at night about his dream of protecting the people back home."

"Zander Marks. See? Don't let his small stature fool you—he's got a long chin. I always say he looks like an alien. He likes grenades, explosions, and smoke. Look, he didn't even put out his cigarette for the photo."

"This kid with the dark brown hair is always smiling. When he smiles, he really lights up the room. He's a good kid, always unable to turn down someone asking for help. Oh, his name's Amy Brandon. We all call her Little Amy."

Holding the personal terminal, Augustus introduced each member of his squad to Rick with a smile. "Connor Ward and Benjamin Crando are the biggest guys around here. Neither of them has much of a temper, and neither likes to smile."

"But when Ward gets angry, he just sulks to himself. Crando, on the other hand, beats up whoever made him angry. He's a monk, so he always prays before throwing a punch and says 'Hallelujah.'" Augustus continued.

"Kurt Josephine looks pretty good with a buzz cut like that. Back in high school, though, he had long pink hair and wore it in braids."

"That bastard's a playboy, a rich punk, a piece of trash—call him whatever you like. He'll still grin at you without getting angry or annoyed. I've never seen Josephine lose his temper." Augustus spoke as he watched Rick, ready to stop if the other man didn't want to listen and was getting bored.

But whenever Augustus looked his way, Rick instinctively smiled back, so Augustus took that as a sign that he was willing to listen to him ramble.

"Arland Londerstein comes from a great noble family, but if you go back three generations, they were all artists, painters, and musicians. He's the one who seems most like a noble among us."

"Ilya Kurovsky was born on the frozen world of Blesis. Where he comes from, his name means 'the hand of God.' He can drink more hard liquor than anyone in our squad, and he's our bravest fighter. I can't believe such a great guy gets motion sickness—and only from motorcycles." Augustus said.