Ordinarily he wouldn’t be in the fray like this. Two assassination attempts have taught him the potential consequences of not operating remotely, but there are things he doesn’t know, details that are conspicuously absent from the briefings he receives from Snow’s advisors. He’s aware of what is supposed to be here, but especially in light of the debacle with the implanted chips wants the chance to ask questions, to hear from the scientists themselves.

So he takes the opportunity, hanging behind as his men move to clear the room. When the portal starts going haywire he immediately changes plans, ordering them into a hasty retreat, unwilling to gamble with time when he’s already lost so many of their comrades. He’s about to go too when the scientist voices the plan, and he stops in his tracks, looking back across the crowd.

He thinks of shrapnel, of missing limbs and bloodied faces, the horrors of war resting in hospital beds and closed coffins. He studies the distance to the console for a fleeting half second, observes the quick joining of hands, and decides that proffered solution is better than none.

"You heard him!" he shouts to the two last fleeing peacekeepers. "Let’s get this shut off!"

He bolts to Terezi, seizing her hand and stretching out his arms, his two colleagues following suit. Fully armored as he is, his face isn’t visible behind the darkness of his visor, but his voice is recognizable enough as he raises it over the blare of the alarms.

"Everyone spread out as much as you can! Make the line as long as possible!"