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[Shuttle Kourete]Time seemed to slow down for Science Officer Verlok. His ears registering a discordant pitch from behind a console near the Commander 2.13 seconds before Ensign tr'Movel communicated both its correct existence, and its subsequent cause.The whine, beneath the hearing of those other than Vulcanoids, was reaching a level that almost became uncomfortable, which - coupled with the cascade failure hampering any mitigation, made it clear this was inevitable. The close and contained environment made any explosion all but fatal, and whilst the suits could protect from much, injuries could be significant; and yet, the First Officer was far too close to survive even with such. For the second time in short succession, Verlok took a somewhat uncharacteristic decision. Perhaps it was symptoms of a lack - or perhaps a symptom - of the Trellium narcortic he had been applying to himself of late. First his consistent alter-absent consciousness, and now actions that were quite against character.But the solution was clear. Logical. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. Or the one.In one swift movement, Verlok grabbed the Romulan Commander with one hand, and threw him bodily across the compartment, a singular display of strength that demonstrated how potent a Vulcan could be if properly unfettered. In concert with the Ensign reporting the computer unable to intervene, Verlok calculated the precise epicentre of the imminent detonation, and thrust the densest part of his suited chest upon it, his splayed arms accounting for likely shrapnel and secondary plasma tendrilsHeat and light was, perhaps appropriately, the last thing the Vulcan of Science experienced.
