Rimma City

The air was heavy with emotion, and Dante was immersed with listening to the buzz of the miasma outside the small room he was sitting in. Stretching out with his feelings, he ran a light "hand" over those in the office outside, trying to get a general idea of what was going on. Primarily there was panic...fear...excitement...and, oh, what was this? Dante's sense touched another force sensitive, and he withdrew the probe hastily. Dante was trained as a Zeison Sha far before he ever joined the Jedi...as a result, his force sense was over developed compared to a standard Jedi. Because of this, he was rather paranoid; the survival instinct that had been drilled into him was strong. As it should be. But, as a pair of humans walked up to the office and entered - well, one entered anyway, the other hung back - Dante tensed up for another reason. A sullen expression, force sensitivity, unchecked emotions, a thin braid...

=Stranger=
"Master Deveaux," he bit off as he bowed unceremoniously, "Miras Tinup."

He hadn't been aware there were other Jedi on the planet. This padawan and his master - at no point did it EVER enter his mind that this padawan had been assigned to HIM - must have arrived just recently. No matter. Smiling tightly, Dante bowed, ironically just as unceremoniously, to the Padawan.

"I'm a master of nothing. Please call me Inspector Deveaux. You should call your friend inside..." Dante nodded at Siroun just outside the door. "...I sense she's rather curious about myself, and these circumstances. Perhaps you and your master can fill me in. I'm afraid I'm not in contact with the council that much - which isn't really all that surprising, really. Im here in exile after all."

From what she can observe from her vantage point, Siroun gathers that the initial meeting between Miras and Deveaux is an awkward one; Deveaux's body language seems to convey more uncertainty and confusion than she would expect, while Miras' body language seems to convey an unexpected level of exasperation. Arching an eyebrow in mild surprise when Miras calls for her to come and join them, citing Deveaux's having sensed that she was curious as the reason, Siroun nods and enters through the doorway, closing the door behind her.

Remaining by the door so that she does not enter what she gauges to be the personal space most humanoids prefer to be kept between themselves and others, Siroun nods a greeting to Deveaux, and then asks Miras, "Is everything alright? Most beings dislike being told how they sound or feel, and so Siroun does not add that Miras sounded frustrated, introducing herself to Deveax instead, I'm Siroun Dadurian, a psychiatric consultant for V-sec."

Three people...was three people too many. Inwardly, Dante ached for the secluded sandcrawler in the middle of nowhere, with its predictable and comforting drone of engines and treads. Outwardly, Dante's mouth simply twitched in what would surpass - for the dry and reserved Dante - as a rather loud outburst of emotion. Holding up a hand to all three, he first took Mira's papers, and read them over. Slowly. In a situation that was chaotic and hectic as this, it would no doubt bother the humans...but Firrerreo were anything but considerate to the needs of others. Besides, the news of a Padawan was...shocking? Horrifying? Perhaps a mix of those two words.

Bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, Dante sighed and signed the papers before handing them back to Miras.

"No Miras, you've got it backwards. They're dumping ME on you. Thirty years I've wiggled out of this...it seems they figured out the best way to do it was just to practically throw a padawan at me. And no, the council doesn't like consultation."

The sour look returned, but it disappeared after a few moments.

"And no, it won't be a problem. A few things though...first, do NOT call me master. I'm an Inspector, plain and simple. Second, as of now, you are considered a Jedi Peacekeeper; that means you are essentially an Inspector's deputy - the equivalent of a Detective, in addition to that of a Padawan within the order. Third...you answer to me; not the local, regional, or even planetary government. That's the type of jurisdiction we have. And lastly, you are my shadow. I sit, you sit. I stand, you stand. I'm not going to micro manage your entire life, but you have to learn the ropes on the go - that makes things easiest if you're closest to me at all times, when on a case at least."

Turning from Miras to Siroun, Dante gave an easy smile, and a slow amicable nod.

It's nice to meet you, Miss Dadurian, I'm Inspector Deveaux. I'm sure we'll have need of your services...as Mr. Monroe suggests."

Turning from Siroun, Dante eyed the form of Simon Monroe. Human, tall, and cybernetically outfitted...Dante had worked on very few cases, but the ones that he HAD worked on, Monroe had been involved in some way or form. It was somewhat inevitable, being two high class Judicial officials. Coughing slightly, Dante smiled slightly and simply shrugged Monroe's jab.

"Well, I can just about out walk my sandcrawler - makes me a bit late to everything. In other news, half the city is on fire...what the hell is going on?"

Smiling as she moves close enough to accept the datapad that Simon holds out to her, Siroun says, "It's good to see you too, and then moves towards a nearby desk to sit on the edge of it to review the footage he has asked her to watch, telling him, I highly doubt you've missed anything, but I'll take a look," her words not empty praise since she knows that he is every bit as adept an interpreter of behavior and vocal intonation as she is.

Returning Dante's nod with a smile of her own when he greets her, Siroun says, "It's a pleasure to put a face to the name at last Inspector," and then, as Dante asks Simon to fill him in on what has been going on, looks down at the datapad, resting her chin on the back of her left hand after starting the playback of the footage. Watching the behavior of the Twi'lek that SImon apprehended after she regains conscious, Siroun sees no outward signs of distress in her behavior, only a cool assessment of her surroundings that suggests she has been trained to survive, resist, and most probably escape captivity; skills acquired through a military SERE program or something very similar undoubtedly. Listening to the Twi'lek's responses to Simon's initial efforts to gain any information from her, Siorun believes she can recognize some of the classic interrogation resistance techniques; many of the Twi'lek's statements obvious attempts to distract, delay, or distort. These observations are ones that Simon will almost certainly made himself, Siroun thinks, and she will possibly be of more help in suggesting ways that he might attempt to gain useful information from the Twi'lek. Those instances where the Twi'lek's behavior and intonation suggested she was being truthful all occurred during her requests for the datapad, and her overall behavior throughout the brief interrogation indicated to Siorun that her emotional development has been delayed somewhat, almost certainly intentionally given the absence of any signs of cognitive or physical defects that could explain the delay. The Twi'lek's behavior seems almost adolescent to Siroun at times, which, while it could have been a result of any number of factors, might be something to be exploited in an effort to gain her witting or unwitting cooperation.

Waiting until Simon and Dante have concluded their discussion, Siroun begins to watch the footage a second time to ensure that she had not missed anything during her initial assessment.

-Officer Hautk-
"Monroe is gone. Lets go. One at a time."

The three officers nodded, and one by one, with half a dosen seconds later stood up from their desks and went down to jail. They met up at the foot of the stairs as descussed before enterring. It was Hautk, a human with a grim disposition, hard features and good phisique. Moobah was a heavy set investigator in civilian clothing. A good guy really, just had a strong sense of justice, that didnt go well mixed with Officer Hautks several aggression brought black dots in his registry. Officer Garam was the newbie, and his unluck was to stick to Hautk. He at least had the balls and passion for the job. All three wore their usual gear, the two police officers their guns and battons, utility belt, while the investigator his main and backup. They walked up to the door, looked into the camera and it opened. Going through, they met with the reception area and Officer Ryk, the detention Officer on duty at this moment.

-Ryk-
"Moobah, here for the serial rapist?"

Hautk stood forward instead, his grave gaze looked upon Ryk.

-Hautk-
"Ryk, you are a good man, we all know this. You work hard, and long. You need a break, dont you think? Go out for coffee, a cigarette, maybe chat up that redhead you are so fond off?"

-Ryk-
"What is this Hautk?"

-Moobah, with his deep voice-
"Ryk, we are all in. Either you are too, or you better put up your transfare papers."

-Ryk-
"You too, Garam?"

-Garam-
"She took one of ours, man! Zsanders is in hospital, and... Just look at the wall!"

-Moobah-
"We aint going to kill her Ryk, just make a point. For those we lost. For the Prescinkt."

The air was heavy. The two, Moobah and Hautk had good pull with the rest of the officers. They started a rumor, that usually stuck. They could get the entire prescinkt to freeze Ryk out, not to mention maybe getting a beating late at night from hooded figures. These guys were out for blood, and whos blood was it any ways? Their brothers vengence blood, thats it. That bitch had killed and wounded one of theirs, and she should pay for it. She will.

-Ryk-
"I maybe needing a break. Yes. Hautk, will you take over?"

Singning over the desk... at least when these people fuck up, he is not around to get the blame. He didnt even smoke, but after signing himself out, and Hautk singned himself in, Ryk asked for a cigarette from a collegue.

As Ryk was gone, all three took a look at the monitors. The twilek was dong pushups. She wont when they are done with her. They locked the station and disabled the camera. Left the guns, brought the battons.
As they got to her part of the corridor she didnt even stop the pushups. Ignored them. Or... she just didnt hear, but they were half sure she glanced at them as they walked up to the glass.

-Moobah, through intercom-
"Stand up to the wall facing the door, leggs apart, hands on the wall."

She looked up, and there was recognition in her eyes. She knew what was coming. That iceberg cool in her eyes spread fear and discontent in the hearts of those whom came to take vengence. But their hearts were strong, and they came here to beat her for the loss of their friend, colegue and blue brother. She complied. The door opened and they slowly came in. They were speachless... didnt know what to say, whom to say it. She did it for them.

-14-
"You get one each. That, you do deserve."

They were startled for a second, but that was it. This murdering bitch is deciding what the hell they are going to do? HELL NO! First one came from Hautk, a blow at her side. She cried up, but held her feet and hands frozen. Might have cracked a rib or two. Second one came from Moobah, he went for her back, nearly hitting a lekku. That, she took with silence. Finally, Garam grew the balls he always wanted to have, and struck her on the left knee. Her knee gave, and she went down, but just to the knee. She was breathing heavily, sweatting from either the training before or the beating. She still held firm.
They stopped. Unsure. She stood up, put her hands on the wall.

-14-
"Its time to leave."

She doesnt decide when its time to leave. They hit her, and hit her again after that. Things got blurry. Blurry from anger, blurry from loss, blurry from vengence.

Blurry from Pain.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ryk came back and hissed in irritation as he saw Hautk was not on his position. He walked up to the controll station, seeing the four guns on the table he got a rock in his stomack. A very very bad feeling.
Taking a look at the cameras, that bad feeling grew the rock into ice. He flipped it on.
Moobah lay in foster position, his face a red mess, his left leg in an unnatural position. By his feet, Garam was grabbing his balls, him too owned a broken nose. Hautk had the twileks foot on his throat, his arm held strait out upwards by the twilek. The woman was standing, one hand holding Hautk, the other a baton. She looked beaten, but not far as badly as her counterparts. Her eyes were on the camera, as if she knew that someone was now watching. her eyes looked past it, looked distant. Thousand yard stare.

Ryk pressed the alarm.

-INTERCOM ANNOUNCEMENT-
THIS IS RYK! DISTURBENCE IN INCARSARATION, IN NEED OF EMIDIATE MEDICAL AND ASSAULT ASSISTANCE!

She had not gone anywhere. Her use was far greater inside here, then outside on the run. She would be nothing just a target with a sign "Armed and Dangerous" on her. Inside here, she had a voice, and ears that listened. That is why she did not kill the three idiots. Well, Hautk still had some resistance in him. She replaced her boot to his shoulder and twisted the arm. The shoulder jumped out of its socket with a snap and a cry of pain. There, she owned this cell now. It was nice and closed. She went for the pockets. She needed a comm and .... ooh, a cigarette!

When the first responders got to the place, the cell was locked, there were three moaning and still alive officers down in the cell, with a panting twilek in the middle. She had both a cigarette and a comms unit to her face, pointing at the comms unit, and those that arrived... hoping the signal would at least go through the glass. It was clear. They had themselves a hostage situation.

---------------------

Officer Ryk was on damadge controll. He had two kids, a wife, a girlfriend that he hopes will never meet the wife, and life. He needed this job.

-Ryk-
"Sir, Hautk came by, said he would take over so I could take a break... I... I had no idea... When I got back, that was what I saw."

He pointed at the monitor. It was pretty clear he was over the edge, maybe even leaving out details.

She sat with the comms unit in her hand, on the thin matrass enjoying a cigarette. She had not had one for about 12 years now, and god damned it hurt her lungs. It was bliss. The second she heard the door hiss, she started yelling.

-14-
"YOU COME IN AND I WILL MAKE SURE YOU ARE ALL DOOMED!"

May sound like a hollow threat from someone incarsarated, but... she didnt seem like someone whom held hollow threats. Monroe had one more chance to save everyone in this precinct. Just seconds to make a quick judgement call. Fate was in his hands.