Four minutes was an eternity.

At least it seemed that way to Talia. It felt like an eternity as she, Harrow and Allen flanked the doorway. Both men’s expressions were hard, focused. And there was something about Allen, on the opposite side of the door which seemed… odd to her. Different. Not quite himself.

As though he knew what she was thinking, he looked at her and she shivered. His gaze was hard and cold as marble, difficult to meet and impossible to break away from. The fanciful thought that something else looked out of his eyes crossed her mind.

But that was crazy, wasn’t it? Allen wasn’t a telepath, and he was human. She was just seeing ghosts where there were none. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself tighter. It was this place, it’s darkness was seeping into her soul.

Harrow leaned in. “Deep breaths,” he murmured softly. “We can do this.”

“Incoming,” Allen breathed, the sound a bare smudge on the air and the three of them tensed.

The lock scraped as it turned, metal squealing against metal. The seconds stretched out to hours as the handle turned. It was ornate and carved. For a second she wondered what this place had been before it was a prison.

But then the moment was gone as the door swung open and they burst into action. Harrow bellowed, and ducked to the side as Allen took on the guard opening the door. Talia’s eyes widened as the sound of fists hitting flesh filled the corridor. Grunts of pain echoed and blood painted a vivid pattern on a nearby wall.

She stood as if frozen, watching those red droplets roll down the rough surface. Pain and violence washed through her mind and she flinched as a hand dropped onto her shoulder.

Harrow’s calming presence cut through the spell and she looked up into blue eyes. “You good, Armstrong?” he asked and her gaze flicked to the cut at the corner of his lips.

“Oh my, you’re hurt!”

He lifted a hand, dabbing at the cut with the edge of his cuff. “Yeah, I was a tad too slow this time, he got me a good one. Getting too old for this shit.”

She turned as Allen joined them, again with that hard look on his face. She tried not to look at the crumpled form of the guard behind him. She knew these beings were responsible for so much pain and suffering, but still… But then she shoved her emotions down hard. They had people here that didn’t deserve what the Devore was doing to them. They should be her focus. Not the guards.

Allen joined them, his expression still hard. For a moment she almost saw another face overlaid behind his features, but when she blinked it was gone.

“This way,” Harrow jerked his head down the corridor. “They brought us in past a control nexus.”

“What are we going to do?” She hissed as they jogged down the corridor into the darkness.

“Havoc and chaos…” He grinned. “We’re going to start a riot.”

She blinked but didn’t get time to ask questions because the next turn in the corridor brought them to the nexus Harrow had seen. Her breath caught in her throat as the corridor opened out and they came face to face with two more guards.

“Hey! What are you doing out?” One demanded while the other leaped for an alarm on the desk in front of them.

Allen hissed and thrust his hand out. For a moment Talia thought he’d found a weapon somewhere that he’d thrown because the guard stopped, his shoulder arching back and his mouth open in a gasp.

But he hadn’t thrown anything. No bloom of red blossomed over the guard’s back. Instead, Allen curled his fingers, turning his hand and somehow making the guard turn on the spot like a juddering marionette. His eyes were wide with fear, locked onto the blond Starfleet officer.

“What the…” The other guard went for his weapon, but Harrow was already there.

“Sorry bud, I don’t think so,” he said, neatly clipping the guard at the back of the head and dropping him into unconsciousness. Harrow looked up at Talia, spearing her with a look. “Come and help me cuff him. Allen, Allen!” he yelled to get the other man’s attention.

Allen blinked and looked at him, his hand still outstretched. Talia tried to avoid looking into his eyes.

“He’s not the only one in there,” she murmured in an undertone to Harrow, retrieving cuffs from the guards pocket and securing him to the desk legs. Harrow flicked a look at Allen and gave her a small nod. “I assumed as much,” he said, making sure the cuffs were tight as he stood and moved toward the guard Allen was holding captive. Somehow.

“Allen,” Harrow’s voice was low but firm. “Let him go so I can cuff him.”

The guard’s eyes were almost popping out of his head, his skin slowly turning purple. His breath came in short gasps, each shorter than the last. Her eyes widened. Allen was killing him.

Allen’s face was still hard, the look in his eyes alien. Gathering her courage, she stood, approaching him slowly.

“Quinn?” she said softly, placing her hand on his arm.

And was sucked in.

Pain and anger. Two minds connected, wrapped around each other in a never-ending spiral. Feeding off each other. Strengthening each other.

Vengeance.

She gasped as she broke away, lifting her hand. Everything was laid out in front of her in one, blinding moment.

“Oh Quinn,” she murmured. He’d suffered so much and kept it all in for so long. Dealt with it alone. Between one heartbeat and the next her worries that she was in the wrong place were swept away. She was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Here. Now.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” she said, reaching up to turn his face toward hers with gentle fingers on his jaw. “Let him go and we can help everyone else as well.”

He blinked, focusing on her. Then relaxed his hand.

The guard sagged forward, half-conscious. Harrow caught him and in a few deft moves had him cuffed to the desk, and gagged.

“Okay then. Let’s get this party started.”