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The Lotorian suspect would've been processed in the department's holding cells and then led right through central through a door marked 'Interrogation Room A'. It is here where he now resides. The room is windowless with its only features being the door one would walk in through, a small table with a two chairs on one side and a lone chair (with a single wobbly leg) arrayed on the other, a single bright white light on the ceiling, and a reflective black plastic sphere in the upper corner that likely houses a camera with a full view of the room.
The Lotorian, of course, is made to sit in the chair with the wobbly leg. His limbs would be securely shackled.
Sheriff Lomasa is also here, leaning near the door into the room as he eyes the Lotorian carefully.
Stripped of her cloak, the Lotorian looks a lot less dangerous then she once did. Black and purple fabric shirt and pants cling to her tiny frame, accentuating an athletic looking figure. Her beady eyes remain fixed on the table in front of her, and despite the adequate temperature, she shivers ever so slightly. The single light stretches shadows out beneath her. Her whiskers twitch.
Around her drifts an aroma of crushed petals, and some form of spice. It's both sickly and almost intoxicating, the way it hangs thickly in the air. From beyond the door, the dull hum of daily life continues in the sheriffs department. Muffled voices echo, seemingly a world away to our Lotorian assassin.
Rowland Parnell is not going to do the good cop bad cop routine. He can't even do regular cop. So he's going to linger in the shadows and just try to stay out of trouble, only here to provide extra muscle should anyone need it.
Muse stands outside of the interrogation room, perhaps not yet allowed or not quite prepared to enter the room. The bustle of the sheriff's office seems to be the pique and focus on the young woman's interest, and as such, her gaze frequently sweeps over the deputies and office attendants taking care of their business as if today was just another day. It pretty much is, entirely.
"Alright, then...Mistress?" begins Norran, staying by the door as he eyes the Lotorian. "My name...is Sheriff Norran Lomasa. Will you tell us your name?" he asks politely at first, leaving it at that.
Shadows under her eyes, cast from a weariness beyond this room and its four walls, the Lotorian doesn't answer. She looks up to Norran slowly, beady eyes moving over the human's form, lingering on his face and eyes for a moment before she pulls them back to the table.
Outside the windowless interrogation room, and the main offices, the Sheriff's department lobby erupts into chaos. At least five humans burst in, making way for two Lotorians, three Hekayti, one of whom have a tupai on his shoulders. They're all frantically trying to get the attention of a receptionist, apparently having just witnessed an armed mugging. No doubt Eiru's authorities have already been notified of such.
It's all Rowland to do to keep from repeating Norran's question in a much more insistent tone. Grinding his teeth, he doesn't seem all that happy with the silent treatment, but the silence is broken by the commotion in the lobby. "I'm going to see what's up, sir," he asides, and moves back out, only to run into Muse. "Oh, hello there, er, excuse me a moment."
"Well, hello there." says Muse to no one in particular. Her eyes focus on the five humans moving about as the armed mugging is reported. Then a Rowland pops out of the interrogation room! Not so easily would the deputy be rid of the woman, who quickly tags along with Rowland. "I spoke to the receptionist and I'm here now. It seems another crime has just been reported."
The deputy and another one posted in the lobby are caught by surprised, the one manning the desk doing his best to calm the approaching crowd while the other sends a report of a large group suddenly bursting into the lobby to report a crime.
Norran blinks at what's coming in over his comms, giving a nod over to Rowland. He reaches out to tap his shoulder, leaning toward him and muttering quietly, "Alright, Parnell. This is a little unusual, grab a couple guys off of desk duty when you go. More than half a dozen apparently, and some brutes. If all is going normally, make sure they're screened before you let them in to take the statement." With that, he lets Rowland go.
This done, Norran returns his attention back to the suspect. He approaches the table, looking down at her. "I've got over a dozen witnesses that saw /you/ murder the victim, Mistress Tanatha. The intertubes or whatever from your homeworld tell me that mark on you means you're from House Rizztii, not very prominent if I recall." Norran pauses, looking the Lotorian in the eyes as he retains a calm tone. "We have you dead to rights, Lady Rizztii. If you don't say anything and work with me, it's straight to the chopping block. Work with me, and maybe you'll get out of this alive."
Mistress Rizztii holds her silence for another moment, looking Norran in the eyes once more. When she finally opens her mouth, there's a pause. "Priezztezz Tanatha." She corrects. "Of Opodi. And we have no... it izzz long time since we have home world." She shifts in her seat, apparently not having noticed the commotion outside.
A larger crowd is gathering in the lobby, a few more humans wandering in to see what's going on. Where Rowland and the deputies see slightly panicked, sweating civilians, Muse's keen eye catches something beneath the surface. The glimmer of metal there, a hand clasped around the grip of a pistol here. All is not as it seems.
Rowland Parnell does as he's told, gathering up a pair of men who are all too glad to get away from paperwork. "So it seems," he murmurs to Muse, approaching the desk. "What's the problem here?" he asks in a loud, clear voice, oblivious to whatever danger may lurk.
Nothing is ever quite as it seems, as would be even the case of poor Muse. Not that anyone knows anything about that. A slightly nudge is given to Rowland as the duo move into the crowd. Given opportunity, or perhaps even a bit forcefully, something is said in a passably casual whisper to Rowland before the young female forces her way towards the human with the supposedly concealed weapon. Her tone is extremely calm and concerned, "Excuse me, tell me what's happened? Is everyone alright?"
"So then, Lady Rizztii, why did you murder the priestess? If you be honest and tell the truth, I'm certain the prosecutor will look on your case favorably and work out a deal with the judge. It's time to end this," promises Norran as he looks at the Lotorian steadily.
Miss Rizztii leans back in her seat, breathing deep of the slightly musty air of the interrogation chamber. "Because she had to die." The Lotorian answers simply. "Because I was told to. And because she, and her family are a blight. A tumour." She opens her mouth to say more, but instead offers Norran a toothy smile.
Outside, in the lobby, movement surges. Humans and hiverspacers alike start to scream, and almost trample Rowland, the deputies, and would-be-deputy Muse in their eagerness to be away. Leaving, at their centre, two Hekayti with red clothes, and hoods pulled over their heads. Both of them have a rifle big enough to create a sizable hole where once someone's head used to be. "No body move!" One of them roars, a male by voice. The other fires a shot at the receptionist's desk. Not aiming to hit anyone, but rather aiming to clear path through the civilians.
Just as Rowland catches Muse's whisper, he gets shouldered and nearly knocked over as folk flee. "Bloody..." At the gunshot, he and the deputies behind him freeze. They slowly and quite reluctantly raise their hands, and Rowland tilts his head at Muse to urge her to do the same. "We've got a problem out here, sir," he mutters into his commlink.
Muse freezes almost completely, as if all the motion had been sucked out of her. Quite smoothly and slowly does she also raise her hands while looking at the men with the big guns. That is not a bullet one could easily shrug off any time soon.
"Well, Lady Rizztii, I'm reluctant to inform you that unless you killed her in self defense - which you did not - that constitutes the crime of murder. Which is illegal on this world, and thus, on this island. Unfortunate, but that is the law," replies Norran nonchalantly with a shrug, brows raising further. "So. Who told you to do it? They're just as responsible as you are, and they used you as a pawn. They deserve to pay for that."
This is all interrupted, however, by the gunshot. Norran blinks at what he /thinks/ he hears, muttering into his comms, "Shades, Parnell! What do you mean a /problem/?!" He then switches over to the larger comm channels, "This is Sheriff Lomasa! We have a situation at the Sheriff's Department lobby! All available units, return to base. Possible gunshots. I repeat: All available units, return to base, possible gunshots." Norran makes his way outside, ordering an alarmed deputy to go inside and watch the prisoner while the rest arrayed in the offices leap from their desks and mosey out of the break room with half-eaten donuts.
The Lotorian returns to looking at her table. She's had her chance to talk today.
"I said nobody move! We wouldn't want anyone to... lose their heads." Terrible. Absolutely terrible. This even earns him a glare from the other Hekayti.
The other Hekayti, a female by the way she moves, starts to clear a space with her weapon between them and the door to the rest of the offices. "Don't test our patience. We're here for the Lotorian. You have 50 seconds to bring her out to us, or we start seeing how many of you go down before we do."
The civilians are more then happy to cower, hands over their heads. A tupai clings to the ceiling, shivering so much dust starts to fall from the light fixtures.
Rowland Parnell grimaces at that horrible, horrible pun. He stares at the female Hek, then up at the stupid Tupai. Then he is reminded of /Fauze/, and wrinkles his nose. "They've got us held up," he finally responds to Norran, perhaps a bit too late. His fingers twitch, but he doesn't reach for his weapons in favor of keeping his head.
In spite of the danger, Muse begins /SLOWLY/ approaching the gun-toting female, keeping within a reasonable three metre distance while also placing herself in a position to seem as though she's negotiating. At first her immediate statement is, "Look-look! No guns. Unarmed. Always unarmed." Her tones remain calm as she continues to talk, "You don't have to do this. You can just leave."
Norran bullies a deputy into activating the intercoms for him, speaking over the station's loud speakers, "This is Sheriff Norran Lomasa! Reinforcements are on the way, and you will soon be surrounded. Leave now, or we'll be forced to take you into custody!"
The hooded, Hekayti female levels her rifle at Muse. "One more step, sweetheart. One more step." She replies, tone sweet as honey.
The air is thick with panic. In one corner someone begins crying. No one wants to die here. No one wants to become just another stain on the ground. The male Hekayti sneers, his voice gruff as ever, like crumbling rock. "30 seconds!" It may not have been 20 seconds already. "We want to see that Lotorian in here, right, god damn now!"
Is Muse, in fact, crazy? Yes. Yes, she is. Someone forgot to take their crazy pills this morning, because the young woman launches herself at the other female with a surprising amount of agility. Negotiations have failed, and Muse is now seeking the attention of both persons with guns. A good punch to the face is always healthy.
The sirens wails as the hovercars pull in front of the government building. This is also, of course, the government building. The entirety of the Eiru Sheriff's Department and various private security firms are likely gathered in force outside of the lobby and inside the central offices.
"...alright. Alright. Parnell, allow our guests access to the central office corridor. Your Lotorian is in Interrogation Room B."
The reckless charge would cause the young woman her life! The bolt of plasma fires from the gun just a bit faster than Muse could cope and it strikes her chest. The recoil from the shot causes the woman to fall backwards with the sick thud of a corpse on the ground! How awful and grotesque! Small flames burn from the singed hole now burned through Muse's blouse, and the skin from the impact area has completely burnt away. Not that the wound is visible with Muse's motionless hand covering the entrance area. She remains motionless.
The female Hekayti had but to pull the trigger, a bright blue discharge of plasma flying from the barrel of her rifle, into Muse. The hekayti woman staggers backwards, eyes wide. She composes herself in but a moment though, levelling her gun at the others. The sickly smell of plasma fire hangs in the air, causing a few of the civilians to gag and retch.
The male Hekayti seems a little surprised it's come to this so quickly as well, he shoots his companion a questioning glance before placing his attention on the others once more. "Right! We bloody mean business. You!" The end of his weapon points at Rowland, its deadly nature displayed so prominently on the floor in Muse's fallen form. "Go into the cells and get the damn Lotorian before we shoot someone else! /Move/!"
Rowland Parnell begins to step back towards the corridor, but pauses when Muse gets shot. He moves towards her, but the male Hek's voice jerks him upright again, and color drains from his face as that nasty weapon is leveled at him. Swallowing, he heads down the hall for the offices. Unhappily.
Norran directs all of the deputies in the central offices to retreat into the various side rooms here, weapons drawn and ready in waiting. Norran himself stows away, crouching around the corner leading downstairs by the interrogation rooms, waiting. He speaks quietly over the comms, "Wait on my signal. Parnell, lead them into interrogation room /B/. Once you open the door, /dive inside/. Don't respond."
Grunting, the female Hekayti grabs a fastheldian woman, wrapping her huge, green arm around the poor girl, with her other hand, making sure the rifle is ready to blow the woman's head off if she, or anyone else tries anything funny. It's possible that the reception area has never stunk of sweat and fear so much since it was created. Now the air positively drips with terror.
The male Hekayti aims a kick at Muse's limp form before moving to follow after Rowland, the female Hekayti close behind him.
The sound of sirens outside, the whisper of a town sent into panic beyond the front door, these may as well be as ghosts to all trapped inside.
Rowland Parnell walks stiffly, hands still raised. Norran relays orders, and Rowland replies with a low 'ten-four', heading for room /B/. With a quick inhale, he opens the door and dives in, hoping at least to roll and not stumble on his face.
Face tumbling takes a lot of effort. Pretending to be a limp /human/ body also takes effort. Having successfully kept up the act of being a dead human, Muse quickly gets back up to her feet while the Hekayti are gone. Quickly and quietly, Muse attempts to gather the civilians and guide them out the opposite exit, reassuring them with, "Everything will be okay. Keep quiet and keep low."
Taking note of the hostage being held, Norran rushes from the shadows despite his colorful attire, a whirlwind of offensive white-floral and red as he leaps upon to Hekayti and brings down his falchion across the alien's throat. "NOW!" he yells, signalling the ambush to begin.
The department shudders as doors are kicked in all over the station, deputies appearing from all corners of the station as they raise their sidearms to fire.
It would be accurate to say that the hooded, Hekayti woman didn't know what hit her. It'd be accurate to say that by the time she'd worked out what hit her, she was dead. Having fallen to the floor, rifle slipping from her hands, blood spurting from the gash in her throat. It was a well executed trap that claimed her life in the end. Not a donut, not even a stray crumb remained to tell of the presence of the hidden police. And even when police are hidden, one hardly expects to be assaulted with a sword. Outversers. What can you do with them?
The male Hekayti roars, part for his fallen companion, part for the bloodlust rising inside of him. He raises his big, damn gun, points it at Norran, and fires a couple of shots off, blue plasma once again lighting up the halls of the sheriff's department.
Outside, in the reception area, civilians are herded easily by Muse towards the exit. A few of them look like they're about to be ill, or faint, especially given that the woman helping them all out had been shot not five minutes ago.
Rowland can only watch in great awe as Norran flies out and slashes a Hek down like the medieval hawaiian badass he is. It's actually quite a sight. "BLAZING GOATMEN," Rowland cries, fumbling with the straps of his rifles for all of two seconds before giving up in favor of a pistol at his side. He fires off a round at the assassin!
In the background, Muse continues to herd civilians out of the building to safety! Which also means Muse is in safety! And not about to die.
The Sheriff is hit, but the deputies at large are not. As Rowland fires, so do the assembled deputies of the Sheriff's Department. A hail of gunfire flies out toward the attackers.
Norran, for his part, grunts loudly as the blast hits him. A smoking wound burning through his precious shirt, Norran grumbles and grabs the Fastheldian woman, taking her with him as he bolts to drag her for cover down the stairs and away from the gunfire.
It's uncanny the way that the Hekayti man moves, his hood never sliding, never revealing more of his face then the green skin of his bearded chin, and the sneer on his lips. A grace, smooth as water, is lost to rage beyond measure. Where once fear and sweat had been rampant, now the air is almost charged with electricity.
"Rydkryg!" He shouts, bullets clipping his shoulders, streaking past his torso as he fires another shot off after Norran and the civilian. Not completely taken by rage, he knows enough to get to cover, crouching behind an unoccupied desk, but by this stage he has several light wounds, and one not so light one.
Rowland crouches down to shoot along side the other deputies, aiming to at least graze the assassin as he moves behind the cover of the desk. He attempts to draw attention /away/ from Norran at least, kicking another desk and yelling insults.
After all civilians are out of the combat zone, Muse grabs the attention of the man who had the pistol earlier. "Excuse me, sir. If I could just have a minute of your time?" This is perhaps an awkward time to ask that, considering the sizeable wound on Muse's chest, but she does her best to cover that up with clothing to at least hide the metal. In a quiet voice she continues, "Could I ask why you brought a pistol into the police office? You're not in trouble, I just need information."
Norran /barely/ manages to escape with the hostage, his beloved straw hat being shot off with a *pew* and the former knight cursing under his breath. "That was my /favorite/ hat," he mutters, calmly reassuring the former hostage and sending her away into a room downstairs. He winces at his wound, glancing at the wound as he limps up the stairs.
The deputies, of course, continue firing from the cover of the office, the hostages now safely out of the way.
"Y-You should be bloody dead! Woman!" The man with the pistol mutters. He shakes himself free. "Someone just got mugged, we've all been held up at gun point, /You/ just got bloody shot! And you're asking me why I brought a pistol?!" He tries to run away.
It's as the Hekayti man is ducking behind cover that yet another shot strikes him. It strikes him through the neck, and he drops to the ground, gurgling. Thump. The offices are plunged into deathly silence. Deputies stop firing, and the only sounds are the faint wail of sirens from beyond reception, and the dripping of freshly spilt Hekayti blood. He dies, staring at the body of his companion.
"YES!" Rowland shouts as the Hek falls dead on the ground. The deputies stare at him, blood pumping. He probably shouldn't be so outwardly triumphant about slaughter, but you all saw it! That Hek shot the sheriff's hat off! He scrambles to his feet and dashes down the corridor, "Sir, they're down!" Or pretty much, 'promote me promote me!'
Muse looks somewhat confused and not offended at all as the man runs away in terror, "People will never get used to seeing us." The resigned phyrrian heads back inside.