Tarik went with Wallace to reconnoiter the now-abandonned settlement.
"Captain, we'll do a quartered search. Take three men and start with the east end of town. Be sure to check the infirmary and the warehouses; there may be civilians holding out there. Meet me at the administration building at the center of town in 45 minutes. Stay in communication at all times," Wallace ordered.
"Aye, sir," Tarik replied. He knew the drill. "You, you, and you--with me now!" he ordered three security crewmen.
A once-pastoral scene--a small country town set in a picturesque valley--was eerily quiet as Tarik and the three security men headed to the east end of the town. Nothing moved, nothing made so much as a sound. As the team came closer to the town, a very familiar oily, greasy stench assaulted Tarik's nostrils. Burnt flesh.
It never changes--no matter where, no matter who's involved, he thought as they approached a warehouse. Tarik opened his tricorder and scanned the building. No life signs. The door had been burned out of its mounting.
The oily stench of burnt flesh combined with the smell of machine parts packed in Cosmolene for long-term storage. One of the men with Tarik became queasy and began to gulp.
"First time doing this, Mr..."
"Van Cleef, sir. Yes, sir," the security man replied.
"It never gets easier, trust me," Tarik informed him. The team moved farther into the warehouse. The place was a wreck; once orderly stacks of crates and storage containers were torn open and their contents strewn about the floor. A badly-charred corpse lay near the door of an office: the warehouse clerk.
Tarik activated his combadge. "Tarik to Wallace, we've completed the sweep of the warehouse. The place has been ransacked. We've found one dead colonist so far; no sign of the enemy."
<Very good, Captain. Post a guard there and get the inventory file for the warehouse. Bring it with you when you report to administration. Wallace out.>
"Mr. Van Cleef, stay on station here. Report to me or Captain Wallace every five minutes, and keep your eyes open!"
"Aye sir."
Tarik stepped carefully over the remains of the clerk and attempted to locate a terminal or PADD with the warehouse inventory file. Anything that remotely looked like a data display device had been destroyed either by the clerk out of desperation or by the enemy out of malice. He looked down at the corpse. You deserved much better than this, Tarik thought. Another eight days and we could have given you the protection you deserve. Now all we can do is clean up. And clean up we will--as soon as the 28th MEF gets here the Son'a will wish they never entered space.
The team left the warehouse and headed for the infirmary. The infirmary made the warehouse look pleasant by comparison.
Tarik attempted to enter the infirmary when he was met by a phaser shot. Immediately the team went to ground. Tarik leveled his rifle at the door. His keen hearing picked up sobbing. Human sobs. Tarik's tricorder indicated one human life sign inside--weak, but alive.
"Cover me, I'm going in," Tarik told the security team.
Two more very badly aimed shots were fired in Tarik's general vicinity. "Put down your weapon!" Tarik called. "We're from Starfleet!"
"S-s-s-starfleet? About bloody time you showed up!" a voice inside cried.
Tarik entered cautiously to find a man inside--not the colony physician--cowering behind a biobed and holding a phaser pistol. The bed held the badly charred remnants of a very small body.
"They got my son. He was only four years old! How could they do this?" the man raved. "The wouldn't even give us enough time to move our sick and our wounded. They just came and started shooting...I tried to hold them off..."
Tarik looked near the rear entrance and saw three Son'a and one unknown body laying on the floor. A fine dust indicated where a fifth body had been nearly completely disintegrated.
"Sir, you're safe now. Let me have the phaser," Tarik told the man.
"Safe??? SAFE??? You bastards told us we'd be safe here! Why should I believe you??? Nothing's ever going to be safe again!" the man cried as he turned the phaser on himself.
Tarik was unable to move quickly enough, either to physically restrain the man or to switch his own phaser to stun in an attempt to stop the man. In an instant, it was all over.
Tarik was only barely able to restrain his anger. Something told him that this scene would be a long time removing itself form his consciousness.
<Sir, we've got transporter activity!> one of the security team commed Tarik.
"Stay under cover. Use the buildings on either side of the street. If we can get them to split up or set up an enfliading field of fire, we have a better chance. Mr. Van Cleef, please respond."
No answer.
"Tarik to Van Cleef--respond!"
No answer.
A group of ten Son'a troops began moving up the street. Four of you bastards are mine, Tarik thought as he took careful aim from his position inside the infirmary. "Hold your fire until I give the signal," Tarik ordered the team.
The group moved within ten meters of the infirmary. Tarik caught one of his people out of the corner of his eye adjusting his aim.
"NOW!!!" Tarik ordered as he cut open with his phaser rifle. Two of the Son'a dropped immediately. The rest began scattering for cover. Two more ran into the infirmary, seeking shelter.
They didn't find it. Tarik buttstroked one of the Son'a with his phaser rifle, causing the folds of skin on the alien's face to rip open. Tarik took advantage of the opening and stunned his opponent with the Vulcan nerve pinch--a Vulcan skill Romulans had no difficulty at all administering. He came up from his first opponent to catch the second opponent with a rushing tackle, driving the Son'a into the wall. He knocked the wind out of his attacker and began driving his fists into the Son'a's skull, one after the other, until the alien's jawbone was little more than a bloody pulp. Tarik then retrieved his rifle and shot both of the attackers.
"Sound off, everyone!"
The three surviving members of the team reported in. None of the Son'a survived the ambush.
<Wallace to Tarik--what the hell's going on there???>
"Tarik here, Captain. The situation is under control, although I expect we'll be seeing more company soon."
<Get your people to admin at once! It looks like we've got a second wave coming!>
Bloody fine with me, Tarik thought, looking over at the charred remains of father and son. Send as many of those bastards as you want. If they don't believe in a nether realm now they'll start believing very soon...