The Ambassador's Bodyguard

Ambassador S'Rell of Vulcan calmly stepped from the Type 6 shuttlecraft, impassively looking over the head of a security officer. The kneeling man, his uniform bearing the lustrous yellow of Starfleet's operations department, was holding a phaser rifle, sweeping the landing bay for any threat.
"The Isolationists will not act here Lieutenant."
"Ensign Moran. You were told to keep the ambassador inside the shuttle."
The other member of S'Rell's security detail, Ensign Kelli Moran of the Excelsior-class U.S.S. Aragon, peeked around the Vulcan, a frown appearing on her face.
"Sorry sir. There wasn't much…"
"Ensign Moran would not be able to stop me even if she wanted to Lieutenant Pool."
The lieutenant let out a deep sigh, rising from his kneel, and gestured at the bay's entrance with his rifle.
"This way then Ambassador. Please remember to stay between us."

The starport was a hive of activity, hundreds moving in what seemed like hundreds of different directions. Watching with wide eyes an Orion trader and his barely-clad female 'companion' Moran turned to S'Rell.
"Ambassador, if Bellatrix V is clearly open to off-world trade then what are the Isolationists campaigning for?"
The Vulcan woman glanced at the ensign, the cold expression on S'Rell's face making Moran feel like a child.
"The Isolationists desire a lack of Federation involvement in their world. They are not so much for isolationism as they are independance."
"The name was chosen then to big up any potential threat the group might pose."
"That is correct Lieutenant Pool. Hence my assignment here."

They continued walking towards the starport's main entrance, Moran shying away from a giant slug-like creature as it brushed against her bare leg. The Aragon's captain was on the older side, very much stuck in the glory-days of the previous century, and out of deference the women serving aboard his ship all wore the so-called 'skant'. Part of Moran wished she hadn't put on that particular uniform before heading down to Bellatrix V but it was just too ingrained in her.

Emerging from the starport Lieutenant Pool took out his tricorder, studying the map on the device's screen. Beside him S'Rell had come to a halt, hands folded together and eyes closed in a brief meditation. Moran was the only one unoccupied, her gaze rapidly flicking from place to place, and movement drew her eyes up to the nearest rooftops, spotting people casually ambling along sky-bridges spanning the gaps between buildings.
"Ensign!" Moran turned, catching sight of Pool and S'Rell starting to move. "Stick close."
She hastened to join them, putting a hand on the type-2 phaser at her waist as Pool continued following the directions displayed on the map.

It was because Moran was already looking for trouble that she saw what was about to happen when they entered a central plaza. Falling back on instincts drummed into her at the academy Moran quickly stepped between the assassin and S'Rell, faintly catching the Vulcan's unsurprised 'ah', and then she gasped as something thudded into her stomach.

Lieutenant Pool had looked up at Moran's sudden movement and subsequent staggering, grabbing for his phaser rifle and carefully sweeping the plaza. A disturbance drew his gaze up, as movement had earlier drawn Moran's attention to the rooftops, and the lieutenant aimed before firing twice. Behind him S'Rell was leaning over the fallen Moran, the dart that had hit the ensign held carefully between two slender fingers, and was dispassionately watching Moran convulse, the human's system being ravaged by whichever toxin was on the dart.

The ensign gaped up at S'Rell, mouth working uselessly, and was thrashing, the frenzied movement making her skant rise up her thighs while coating her pale limbs and ginger hair in uneven layers of dust. She could almost see the calculating expression behind S'Rell's still features and tried to reach out with a hand made into a claw. The Vulcan glanced at the appendage for a second before finally turning away from Moran as her hand dropped, a final sigh passing between bared teeth.

Pool fired off a couple of additional shots, his concentration broken by the even sound of S'Rell's voice.
"Our attackers are not there Lieutenant. They fled when they failed to achieve their objective." Pool stopped and lowered his rifle, sadness appearing on his face as he beheld Moran's corpse. "If we do not move now though logic suggests they might return, or another group will make an attempt on my life."
"But Moran…"
"Her sacrifice will be wasted if we stay here. Move Lieutenant."