The corridor was empty.
His face mostly concealed by the seemingly opaque faceplate of the tactical helmet he wore, Scott Reynolds felt his lip curl in contempt as he silently observed the after-effects of human panic. Debris littered the broad walkway that linked the two parts of the docking ring. Signs had been smashed, computer consoles had been ripped free, and three bodies could be seen, one of which appeared to have been bludgeoned to death. As a student of history, Scott immediately recognized a riot zone when he saw it, and it depressed the hell out of him that humans had yet to evolve past such insanity.
"Second Squad," he said into his comm, "move out."
For a team of rookies, the seven soldiers of the squad were surprisingly professional. With PO3 Konikowski directing them with rapid hand signals and soft verbal commands when necessary, they spread out through the mostly empty corridor, pausing only long enough to verify that the dead were actually dead. At no time did they display a lack of caution or relax their guard; hyper-alert, each of them treated everything as a threat, regardless of how mundane it appeared.
Experience was a harsh teacher.
Even before Konikowski had given the all-clear signal, Commodore Archer was striding forward into the corridor and Reynolds found himself gritting his teeth in frustration. Ten minutes had passed since they'd departed Endeavour, ten minutes and two minor skirmishes with panicked looters, and still - still - Archer acted as if he were out on a stroll through a park. Scott wasn't sure if the man was totally fearless or completely insane.
"Ell-tee," Crewman Hensen said abruptly, pointing to an air vent near one of the bodies, "I've got two bio-signs." The computer and sensor operator - CSO, for short - adjusted the scan frequency on the dedicated sensor pack he wore. A comm-tech by training, it was to him that Scott would turn should a computer system need to be hacked or a security system bypassed. "Both appear to be Vulcan," Hensen identified, and Reynolds exchanged a look with Ambassador Soval.
"Konikowski, set up a defensive perimeter," Reynolds quickly ordered, not even bothering to see if the instruction was obeyed before turning his attention back to Hensen. "Weapons?" Scott asked.
"Negative, sir," the CSO replied. Out of the corner of his eye, Reynolds noticed Soval taking a step forward, eyes intent on the indicated spot.
"Ambassador!" Scott said sharply, drawing the immediate attention of the Vulcan. "Let me handle this, sir." For a moment, the lieutenant thought that, like Commodore Archer, Soval would argue but, after a moment of consideration, the ambassador nodded. With Archer quietly observing, Scott approached the vent.
"I'm Lieutenant Reynolds of Starfleet," he said softly in Vulcan. "We're not here to hurt you." He frowned as he realized the body sprawled out in front of the vent was that of a female Vulcan, although she had some slightly curious ridges upon her forehead the likes of which he had never seen before. Mentally, he shrugged; it wasn't as if he were an expert on their species.
"You're human," came the accusing reply and Reynolds nearly frowned again; the voice had been that of a young boy. Scott glanced at the body of the dead Vulcan again as a troubling thought came to him.
"Yes, I am," he said. "But I won't hurt you. We're escorting Ambassador Soval to the Ti'Mir."
"Are the bad men gone?" a second voice asked. She was young and so heartbreakingly innocent-sounding that Scott felt a wave of sadness wash over him. Once more, his eyes flickered to the corpse and anger replaced the sadness.
"Yes ma'am," he replied, gesturing for Soval to join him. "And we'll make sure they stay gone."
It took a few more minutes - time they could ill afford to lose - but they coaxed the two from the vent. The boy - Skov - looked to be nine or perhaps ten and stayed protectively in front of his much younger sister, T'Prin. Both were filthy exhausted, and had the curious forehead ridges but held themselves with a dignity beyond their years. Ambassador Soval they accepted at once, and the older Vulcan slid into the role of father figure so easily that Scott knew he had to be a parent. Skov identified the slain Vulcan as their mother, killed in the chaotic panic that followed the announcement of an impending Romulan attack. Once more, Scott found himself wanting to do bodily violence to the administrator of this station.
Immediately prior to the operation in the Orion sector, Lieutenant Commander Eisler had informed Reynolds of the suicide bombers, information that the commander had already relayed to the station authorities. Eisler had even gone so far as to provide a number of suggestions for station security that could have limited the number of casualties inflicted by any of the bombers that weren't apprehended.
Administrator Maddox had done nothing.
It wasn't an uncommon course of action for weak leaders; human history was rife with incidents of governments or rulers electing to do nothing in the face of a growing crisis, only to regret it in the end. The Second and Third World Wars were perfect examples, with the civilized nations doing nothing as the aggressors - Nazi Germany or the Augments respectively - rose to power. Maddox's rambling and terrified stationwide announcement in the minutes after the fifth bombing only fed the fires of chaos; from the way he spoke, the Romulans were within minutes of arriving.
Naturally, the station had exploded into panic.
"Second Squad," Reynolds said into the silence. They had wasted too much time here and he had a mission to complete. "Let's get ready to move." Out of the corner of his eye, Scott noticed the ambassador studying the dead Vulcan with an eerie intensity and wondered if Soval had known her. "Chao, LaPolice, you're on point." The two named crewmen nodded and took up positions near the exit; according to the station schematics, that particular hallway would lead them directly to the docking berth that the Ti'Mir was connected to. "Diamond formation, Commodore Archer and Ambassador Soval in the center." Scott gave the two young Vulcans a brief glance. "Ambassador, I'll need you to carry Skov and T'Prin."
"I will not be capable of doing so," Soval replied as he hefted the body of the slain Vulcan over his shoulder. Reynolds opened his mouth, to suggest that the ambassador leave the dead Vulcan behind, but hesitated when he noticed something odd.
Soval appeared ... troubled.
"No one needs to carry me," Skov declared, holding himself so stiffly erect that Reynolds thought he could almost hear vertebrae cracking, "I can keep up with you." It was difficult to hide the amusement that the young Vulcan's words caused and several members of the squad looked away to hide their smiles, no doubt recalling their own adolescences; some things, it appeared, were universal. To Scott's surprise, Commodore Archer crouched before the Skov's younger sister and gave her a slight smile.
"Hello," he said in broken but understandable Vulcan. "My name is Jonathan. I will carry you ... if that is acceptable." She stared at him, eyes wide and appearing so much like an elf from ancient European mythology that Reynolds had to smile; it was a scene straight out of a dream, a perfect moment of innocent beauty juxtaposed against the chaos of war, and Scott knew he would take it to his grave. Finally, like a regal queen of ages past, she nodded before crinkling her nose.
"You smell funny," she told him bluntly and Archer laughed as he straightened.
"That's because I'm human," the commodore said lightly.
"I was unaware that you could speak Vulcan, Commodore," Ambassador Soval stated, an inclined eyebrow the only hint of his surprise.
"There are a lot of things about me that you don't know," Archer said in reply, smirking as he continued. "It's just a little something I picked up from when Surak was in my head." Soval gave him another indecipherable look before finally nodding. A tug on his pants leg drew Scott's attention to T'Prin.
"Are you going to hurt the bad men?" she asked in a solemn voice, and once more he felt something tear within him.
"If I have to," he replied in as neutral a voice as possible.
"Good," she murmured, drawing another frown and a long look from Soval.
"You'll need this, sir," Konikowski abruptly said, offering the ambassador his sidearm. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow as he responded.
"It is unnecessary." He pulled a fist-sized pistol of unfamiliar design from a concealed holster. "I am already armed." Commodore Archer shook his head.
"Didn't know you carried that," the commodore said, and Soval gave him a brief glance.
"There are ... a lot of things about me that you don't know," he replied in clear imitation of Archer's previous comments. The two men locked gazes and were about to speak when Crewman Hensen broke in, his eyes still locked on his scanning equipment.
"Lieutenant, I've got multiple bio-signatures heading this way."
"Let's move, people," Scott ordered, his voice tense.
They were running out of time.