Four Denobulans were brought in—burned, bruised, and shaken.

The first was a middle-aged man with plasma burns across his chest and side. He was conscious but in pain, breathing shallowly.

Next, a younger woman. Her eyes were unfocused, her speech slow. A head injury—probably a blast concussion.

The third was older, with grey at the temples and a deep gash along her right arm. A fractured humerus showed up on the scan. She waved off help at first, insisting the others be seen first.

The last was a boy, no more than sixteen. Physically unharmed except for scrapes and bruises, but unresponsive. He hadn’t said a word since arriving.

They all smelled faintly of smoke and scorched metal....

– Storyteller