A foot emerged out of the darkness to impede Jacob's ambling gait as he strode confidently by an empty cargo container. The foot managed to plant itself squarely in the middle of the young man's stride, tripping him easily and sending him sprawling onto the wet deck with a yelp of surprise. Jacob rolled over immediately, positioning himself on his back and instinctively readying himself to fend off an attacker. Arms folded neatly behind him, Silas Gesse stepped out from the container's shadow into the low light of the stormy afternoon...

"The lesson, Jacob," Silas began, offering a hand out to help his fallen student rise, "is actually, 'The arrogant hunter is most vulnerable.'" Jacob was glaring at him again, and Silas could feel the young psion's energy raging behind those eyes. His student was almost three decades his junior; still full of the youthful fire that made him quick and brash. "You were using your gift again, weren't you?"

"I thought it would give me an edge." Jacob accepted the offered help and Silas pulled his student to his feet. "I thought I could sense you."

"Well, obviously you're still having trouble distinguishing between me and anything else that might be lurking on this wreck." Silas began. He had Jacob fixed with a knowing look. "A couple years ago you wouldn't have even considered using your powers during an exercise. You were more disciplined then - more astute..."

"Here we go again." Jacob rolled his eyes as the all too familiar lecture came rolling out of Silas' mouth.

"...Ever sense you started developing these psionic abilities of yours, you've only regressed. You're putting too much stock in these parlor tricks of yours. They are only hindering you!"

"You don't know that!" Jacob snapped back - that youthful vigor fleshing itself out in his anger. It was the same argument that had been ongoing between them for months - the older Silas wary and critical of his student's newfound (and rapidly growing) powers. He could see what effect they were taking on the young man, even if he couldn't. The psionic powers that seemed to have taken root in him were sapping at his Qi, his spiritual energy, depleting him. The muscle mass that the young man had built as a martial arts student under Silas' wing was wasting away beneath his flesh - slowly, but wasting still.

These powers will kill you! Silas wanted to scream, but he knew the words and the sentiment would be wasted...