Stepping on the hilt to prevent any last minute hijinks, Freyd reached down and pulled the blade out, watching as it dematerialized in his hands.  That could only mean one thing.  Turning the woman over revealed Nhiks not as a were-rat, but as the human woman she had one been, a growing pulpy red mass staining her blouse and surcoat.  A  brass medallion fell loose as he did so, bearing the crest of the Galtean navy, now badly worn by shame and defeat, then wracked by an obsession for vengeance.