An Incident in the Imperial Hotel

["Ed Messina" <emessina@vdot.net>]

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Present in Lounge -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain): Dahish, Lochinvar, Etta,
Martin, Iason, Moneta,
and Jans

Dahish comes trotting in, looking behind him, alarmed, but calming down.
Sweat stains his
clothing and hair, his breaths coming in gasps. He moves into the crowd,
doing his best to calm
down and blend in, in the end taking a seat in the corner.

Moneta mutters to Iason, "... to privately."

Lochinvar grasps the hand in a firm but friendly manner.

Moneta smiles at Etta

Martin gives Lochinvar a firm handshake with his left hand.

Jans glances over the women present as he pours himself a glass of pristine
Alvst Vodka.

Etta returns the General's smile and murmurs, "Hello."

Dahish watches the door, his mind obviously working quickly. He keeps
looking about the room,
then back to the door, waving away a server with a sharp jerk of his hand.

Etta glances curiously at Dahish and his odd behavior.

Lochinvar releases the grasp, and scans the newcomers in the room.

Iason bows to the arriving Viscount, then straightens to look 'round again.

Etta asks Lochinvar softly, "Do you know that man?" She indicates Dahish
with a nod of her head.

Dahish licks his lips nervously, his wild eyes keep looking about, lips
moving silently with
prayers to whatever gods may be.

Lochinvar turns to Etta, "No I don't."

Water is set before Dahish who lifts it up, glurping it down his throat
greedily, a little spilling
down his chin, wetting his shirt. He pants, looking quite nervous.

An obsequious waiter offers Dahish the wine list.

Etta looks around at the others, checking for recognition on any of the
faces.

Jans smiles at the striking women in the deep blue dress as he sips at his
drink.

Iason's wine glass returns to his lips, silently looking over the crowd.

Lochinvar say to Etta, "Do you know him?"

Moneta mutters to Iason, "... must... with... we... table?"

Dahish gestures the waiter away. "Back off, more water if you insist on
being an irritant." He
realizes he is drawing attention. He dusts himself off, trying to look more
normal.

Iason nods once to Moneta, raising a brow.

Etta shakes her head 'no', "But he looks nervous about something. Maybe we
should...offer our
help?"

The waiter bows. "Of course, sir, more water." he smarms. "Would you care to
see a menu?"

Lochinvar with a sound of concern to Etta, "Stay here, I'll go check him out
in case he's
dangerous."

Martin turns to look at the commotion that the man is causing. He reaches
down under his coat for
a second before turning to the bartender and orders a bourbon.

A waiter slowly works his way near to Etta, careful not to intrude. At his
earliest opportunity he
nervously speaks to her. "Excuse me, my lady." He tugs to straighten his
short white jacket, "But
the Lord Alvstad would like you to join him for a drink." He quickly turns
and departs, obviously
uncomfortable in such a militant crowd.

The brutish Sardaukar walks over to the nervous Dahish. Lochinvar bows out
his chest and tenses
his biceps to give him an authority/powerful look. "Excuse me sir, is
something wrong?"

The door is flung open and standing there are three Harkonnen Familiar
Guards, in the dark blue
uniforms of their House. The sergeant stalks slowly into the room, scanning
the occupants with a
raptorial glare, while his two compatriots take up station on either side of
the door.

Moneta waves Iason over towards a table.

Etta blinks in surprise, pausing with her wine glass half raised.

Lochinvar catches the door being flung open. He looks at the Harkonnen
troops through the
glasses.

Martin takes his glass from the bartender. Seeing the Harkonnen guards, he
smiles before he takes
a drink from the glass.

Jans downs the remainder of his drink, his gaze drifts from the woman in
blue to his now empty
glass. He sighs, and pours himself another.

The sergeant bows to Etta. "My lady," he says, in clipped tones, averting
his eyes. He speaks
quietly to her.

Dahish's eyes scan the room again, quickly. They land on Etta and he stands,
trying to seem casual
about it, heading towards her. He raises a finger in her direction, trying
to get her attention in a
very polite manner.

Iason takes a seat at the green table.

Iason follows Moneta to a seat, continuing to look around.

Etta glances from the guards to Dahish and back, listening to the sergeant
curiously.

Srulin enters from the hotel lobby.
Srulin has arrived.

Dahish just breezes by Lochinvar, ignoring him as if he didn't hear him.

Etta nods to the sergeant and her gaze fixes on Dahish, who is approaching
from behind the guard.

Dahish moves near Etta. "Excuse me, but I believe I found something that
belongs to you, did you
lose an energy clip back there?" He gestures towards the entrance, nodding
at Etta's shield device
on her belt. "Cause I found one, and I think its yours." He explains,
reaching into his pocket.

Lochinvar seeing he was ignored cause him to turn and follow the man with
his hidden eyes. The
disrespect causes the face of Lochinvar to turn ugly.

The sergeant whirls, his grim expression turning to a smirk. "Ah, there you
are. You've led us a
chase, boyo, but it's time to come along." His hand settles on the butt of
his needler at his waist.
For probably the first time in her life, Etta is at a loss for words, so she
laughs and shrugs as
Dahish gains the attention of the Harkonnen guards.

The other two Harkonnen Guards nod. One speaks into a communicator quietly
and the other
unslings his needle carbine and approaches Dahish from behind.

Dahish grabs Etta by her hair, his hand whipping out of his pocket, a knife
in his grip, almost
instantly bringing it to her throat. "Back the hell off or I cut her throat,
I got this knife coated with
cylthiam snake poison, one prick and she is dead as a rock!!" He looks like
he means these words.

Jans turns his head, frowning. He reaches for his cane, and begins to rise.

Etta suddenly finds herself a hostage. Her wine glass falls to the floor
unheeded and she remains
very still beneath the poisoned knife blade.

Iason's eyes rest on the ambassador and the assassin, appearing as calm as
ever, not making a hint
of motion.

Lochinvar speaks up, "Don't any one move, my good man you don't have to do
anything. What is
your reason for this?"

The guards freeze. The sergeant says in a murmur, hands held before him,
"Easy, now. We just
want to ask a few questions, is all. Just a chat, boyo." He's doesn't want
to explain to the Baron
how Lady Etta got killed on his watch.

Srulin walks in alone, wearing his Ginaz uniform from Ginaz School of
Warfare. Upon entry, he
is amazed at all the people that are occupying the lounge. Is there an empty
seat for him to sit in?
He takes a few laps looking for one.

Martin sees Srulin walking into the lounge. He laughs to himself.

The Harkonnen sergeant nods. "Listen to the Major, boyo. No reason to fly
off the handle." His
sets his hands on his belt, where hang a needle pistol and a kindjal.

Moving only her eyes, Etta glances around at all the faces.

Lochinvar looks to the sergeant, "Shut up, this is my jurisdiction."

Jans points his cane at the man and in an arrogantly commanding voice only
one born to
Siridarship can muster, "You there. You will release that lady at this
moment." He glances at the
Sardaukar and sighs. He then turns to the Harkonnen liveried men, then back
to the man with the
hostage.

Dahish grins triumphantly. "Few questions, my boot. Now drop yer damn
weapons, naw, throw
them, over there." He nods at the bar. "All but you, sergeant fuck up. Hand
yours over and I be on
my way outa here." He pauses, thinking. "I want a thopter, full, in ten
minutes within walkin'
distance or this fine lady gets to see how breathin through her damn ears
works." He tugs Etta's
hair back, lifting her to a standing position.

Srulin sees somebody laughing at him. He frowns at the man as he walks by
him but doesn't say a
word at all. He looks over to the bar, to see if there's an available seat
there.

Six more Harkonnen Familiar Guards pile into the room, summoned by the one
with the radio.
Their carbines are at the ready, safety catches off, weapons out, aimed at
the man with the knife.

Etta grimaces and does her best to move as her captor wishes.

Iason puts down his wine glass, calmly rising to his feet. "Gentlemen,
surely we can work
something out." he intones, projecting an air of benevolence as best he can.

Iason leaves his seat at the green table.

Dahish whispers into Etta's ear. "Get ready to walk." He glances at the
newcomers. "DROP YER
DAMN WEAPONS OR SHE DIES!" He bellows out loudly. "Lady, pull out your
communicator
nice and slow and see 'bout that thopter." The latter was spoken quietly to
Etta, as he gently begins
to lead her, nice and slow, across the room.

Jans leaves his seat at the table near the window.

Martin leaves the bar.

Lochinvar looks to the newly arrived Harkonnens and yells to them, "Get out
of here or I'll have
your heads!"

Moneta leaves her seat at the green table.

The sergeant nods. "Now you know you're in trouble, boyo, no place to go.
You shouldna done
what you done. Listen to the Viscount Alvstad, let th'lady go. Come and take
a little ride with us."
He signals his men, who lower their weapons but don't drop them.

Srulin sees the situation that he has unknowingly walked into. "What
the...?" he notices the
woman being lifted up by the hair is Etta. He looks at the man who holds
her. He swipes out his
rapier and drops it to the ground. "What do you think you're about to do? He
raises an eyebrow at
the man.

Jenaa enters from the hotel lobby.
Jenaa has arrived.

Calix enters from the hotel lobby.
Calix has arrived.

Moneta looks around and quietly leaves.

Etta raises her wrist to her lips, softly ordering a thopter. Her expression
is not a happy one to say
the least.

Moneta passes through the arch leading into the hotel lobby.
Moneta has left.

Lochinvar says in a calm voice, "Listen to me you don't have to do this."

Jans glances at the Sardaukar Major, bewildered as to his rash handling of a
delicate situation.
"She will do no such thing. You will release her at once." He glances at the
Harkonnen men, "I
can keep you from them, as well, if you wish to tell me your story.",

The Harkonnen guards look confusedly at the Sardaukar, but they're the ones
with the loaded and
aimed weapons...they obey their sergeant and lower them.

Etta says softly, "I can't order it from here."

Iason starts over, motions slow but graceful, his hands open.

Jenaa furrows her brow at the activity, and raises a clear voice, "What's
going on in here, Major?!"

Dahish growls at Etta. "Gimme that, put your wrist thing to my mouth n' push
the button, nice and
slow. He keeps moving, doing it slowly, the knife never leaving Etta's
throat, the other not letting
go of her hair.

Srulin looks over to Lochinvar then to the man. "I see fear in you, sir." He
speaks out to the
Dahish.

Lochinvar sees the Corrino princess has arrived.

Dahish is ignoring the things the crowd shouts to him, focusing all his
attention on walking and
holding the knife.

Harkonnen Sergeant Von Teufel explains, "Beggin' yer pardon, lords and
ladies, This man is a
fugitive from Harkonnen justice. We're here t'take him into custody."

Iason starts towards Dahish and Etta, his walk slow and stance
unthreatening. "I'm sure we can all
come to a workable agreement without the need for violence." he says to
Dahish.

Etta moves with Dahish, careful not to stumble or do anything that may press
the poisoned blade
into her flesh. She raises the com unit for the man to speak into.

Calix steps into the lounge, flanking Jenaa, and calmly takes in the
apparently extreme situation.

Lochinvar say to Jenaa, "We have a situation here my lady, and I'm trying to
explain if he lets Etta
go he will not be harmed. My lady I wish you would leave."

Srulin chuckles a little at the Sergeant's comment. "It looks like your not
doing well of a job, sorry
to say."

Srulin finally gets serious again and takes a step forward to the knife
wielding man. "Tell me what
you want, I'll give it to you. i promise."

Srulin spoke smoothly, not trying to harm anything.

Lochinvar points his finger at the sergeant, "If you don't shut up I will
kill you, you have no
authority here in Kaitain!"

Martin turns to Srulin. "Stupid comments are not required," he hisses.

Jans gives Jenaa the briefest of glances, then gives Calix a nod of his
head, as if indicating he
should move himself out of the doorway. And the Princess, of course. He then
simply starts
laughing.

Jenaa slowly, but calmly enters the room fully, addressing the Sardaukar,
her voice soft but clear,
"I see. I prefer to stay Major, but thank you for your concern." She turns
to regard Dahish fully.
"What is it that you want, sir?"

Srulin blinks at the Moritani. "There's nothing stupid of what has been
said. The man needs help."
He throws his voice at the Moritani, still sounding as if he is wanting to
take control of the
situation.

The sergeant sneers at Lochinvar, "Harkonnen's a Great House o'the
Landsraad, Major, beggin'
yer pardon." He turns back to Dahish, eyes on Etta. He swallows. This is out
of hand.

Dahish growls out into the communicator. "Listen, now. I am going to KILL
this woman if you
don't get an 'thopter down here damn fast. Wonder how pleased yer damn baron
would be,
knowing that. Hear this?" he pulls his mouth back and twists Etta's hair
painfully. He continues
edging towards the door, he may actually escape.

Calix catches wind of Jans, a knife, and then Jans again. Being ever loyal
to his house and its
esteemed Siridar, as well as having his own private smirk on his face; Calix
starts to make his way
across the room, weaving between panicked bystanders and such.

A corporal in Harkonnen uniform says, "The thopter's on its way. It's to
land on th' roof."

Jans waves everyone back from this Dahish fellow. "Come now. She is a mere
diplomatic liaison.
Do you honestly think she has access to an ornithopter? She does not leave
the city proper without
the Lord Baron's permission. For that matter, do you think such a junior
diplomat is even worth
your life, my friend? Granted, she is quite a looker, and I was hoping to
have a drink with her.
Why don't the three of us have a nice drink and we can talk about who
actually can give you
something nobody else here can."

Lochinvar says to Dahish in a calm voice, "Listen you will not be harmed,
let her go, the
Harkonnen guards will not bother you, if you need a hostage take me
instead."

Iason takes a breath, then eases closer to Dahish. "Siridar-Viscount Alvstad
has a point. If you
need an ornithopter, you should pick your hostages better." he chides,
almost as if he was on
Dahish's side. "Maybe you should take me, instead? I promise to go
peacefully, or relatively so."
Jans pointedly ignores the Sardaukar officer. "I am the Siridar Viscount
Alvstad. I can give you
immunity from anyone, even the Sardaukar here on Kaitain."

Seeing that there's not much attention towards him from the fugitive, Srulin
bends opens a sleeve
to reveal a small knife in its sheathing strapped around his forearm. He
quickly tries to make a plan
of how he can help the rescue.

Dahish actually glances at Lochinvar. "You care a lot about this lady, do
you? Get me an
ornithopter, ten minutes." he continues to move, eyes darting about
constantly. "How's the
progress doing, sweetness?" He asks Etta sarcastically. "Will you live?"

The Harkonnens step aside to clear a path for Dahish and his hostage. They
haven't set their
weapons down, but have averted their aim.

Etta doesn't respond to Dahish, but keeps her concentration centered on the
knife at her throat and
moving.

Lochinvar not wanting to answer the first question, "I'll get you a thopter
in five minutes let her
go."

Dahish doesn't seem too concerned with the details. He grins at Lochinvar.
"Shut your mouth,
ape, I had better see a 'thopter in five minutes or she gets a nice smiley
on her throat." He is almost
to the door, his eyes trying to watch in all directions.'.

Srulin side-steps so he inches closer to the fugitive. "What do you want her
for?"

Jans turns to the Sardaukar. "You are not a peacekeeping force, my feisty
fellow. You will keep
your distance. This does not concern his Majesty's lapdogs."

Iason continues to walk towards the door and the knife-holding man, calmly
enough. "I -can-
guarantee you a hostage and a thopter." he comments to Dahish. "Perhaps the
lady and I should
switch places?

Srulin says, "If you want somebody important then take me. She doesn't
deserve any of this. I've
got what you want."

Jenaa watches the events with great interest.

Lochinvar ignoring Jans' comment, then addresses Dahish, "Follow me out and
get you a
thopter."

Calix's expression remains flat, as he looks over at the Sardaukar who Jans
is pressing. With
mock disgust, Calix flips his attention over to Jans, "Interesting
entertainment, but not really worth
the trouble. She is after all, just a Harkonnen Diplomat. Chances are the
Baron will have her
executed tomorrow either way."

Sergeant von Teufel nods. "M'lord Viscount, this man has committed a crime
and we ask that we
be allowed to apprehend him."

Dahish lets go of Etta's hair a moment to flash an obscene sexual symbol
with his hand at
everyone, guards included. "I like this lady fine. Now thank you all for
your attention, please
resume your meals." He is speaking with a little bit of a grin, the thought
that he just screwed the
Harkonnen AND Sardaukar making him a bit high. He moves to grab Etta's hair
and pull her out
the doors.

Jans looks at Dahish. "If you leave with anyone but me, you will not live.
Apparently you do not
value your life, or you value what you know more than your life. Either way,
your best chance at
leaving this room in less then fair condition is with me." He looks to the
Harkonnen Sergeant,
nodding. "If he chooses to come with me, I will offer him sanctuary." He
looks at the Sergeant.
"For the time being, until this matter can be sorted in a much more
civilized manner."

Iason notes mildly, "I doubt you'll get your thopter and your escape with
her - the Baron may
decide that it's just as easy to replace a minor official like her, and blow
you both out of the sky.

Etta gasps as she gets tugged by her hair out the door and looks as though
she'd like to say a few
obscene things herself.

Iason says, "You stand a better chance with someone of more rank."

Dahish passes through the arch leading into the hotel lobby.
Dahish has left.

Etta passes through the arch leading into the hotel lobby.
Etta has left.

Iason enters from the hotel lounge.
Iason has arrived.

Iason slips out of the doors, still moving sedately, calmly.

Srulin enters from the hotel lounge.
Srulin has arrived.

Lochinvar enters from the hotel lounge.
Lochinvar has arrived.

Dahish grins, pleased as punch. "How it feel, lady? I just got away from the
Harkonnens and the
Sardaukar." he sighs happily, leading Etta away. He notices someone
following. "Back the hell
off, lover boy. Back inside or I kill her."

Martin enters from the hotel lounge.
Martin has arrived.

Jenaa enters from the hotel lounge.
Jenaa has arrived.

Martin walks into the room, chuckling.

Lochinvar asks, "Why do this, you know what the implication could be, you
could injure innocent
people if you do this."

Iason replies, rather helpfully, "If that happens, you will surely die. Even
now, I doubt her value
as a hostage." He shrugs a little. "Surely you could do better - at the very
least pick someone
whose death would start a war if Harkonnen forces destroyed the Thopter.

Srulin exits after Iason, hiding his knife underneath his sleeve once more.
He looks ready to
pounce or more so to react in any which way the situation turns out to be.
He grits his teeth.

Iason says, "Should I calculate the odds against your survival if you
continue on this present
course? I assure you, they will be quite accurate, unless you do something
else to change things."

Lochinvar looks at Etta, then back to Dahish.

Dahish growls, backing away from the people. "Everyone wants d'be a damn
hero. BACK OFF
OR I KILL HER!!!!" He yells for all to hear. "Get the hell back, yeah,
that's right." Spit flies from
his lips as he talks, excited now. "I don't want to slip and prick her nice
little neck, eh?" He pulls
her back still. "Tell them to back up." He whispers to Etta.

Etta licks her lips nervously, keeping her body pressed up close to Dahish
so the knife remains
loose, "Please...I'll be all right..."

Martin mutters "His sure to be dead now.

Srulin eyes over to Iason, examining his movements to note what may happen
next. He then scans
his blue eyes back to the fugitive and his 'prize'. He obeys the man as he
tells everybody to back
off. "You will pay dearly, fugitive."

A Harkonnen staff car has pulled up in front of the hotel and a squad of
armed troopers has sealed
off the doorway. An officer in dark glasses and a greatcoat enters,
observing from a discreet
distance.

Jenaa enters the room behind the crowd. She approaches Dahish, and stops
several feet from him.
"As the good ambassador says. . .you will not do well with a diplomat as
your hostage. He is
most correct. It is unlikely that the Lord Baron would choose to spare your
life on her behalf." She
pulls a seat away from a table and sits in it, facing him, leaning back into
the chair. "Are you
certain that there is no arrangement that might be more. . .beneficial to
all involved?"

Dahish gives Etta's temple a peck. "That a girl." He glares at all the
people. "WHAT PART OF
BACK OFF OR SHE DIES *DON'T* YOU GET!?!?" He quickens his pace somewhat, in
his
nervousness the blade slits Etta's throat a little. Not killing her, but
drawing blood. With a
poisoned knife...

Iason nods sadly, thinking a moment, "His chances of survival have dropped
to 22.374 percent,
under first-order probability calculations, based on the current mood of the
soldiers present and the
rank of the lady." he says to nobody in particular. "There is a 72.913
percent chance of death at the
hands of Harkonnen forces with a 6.813 unquantifiable component."

A look of genuine fear crosses Etta's face as the knife pierces her skin.

Iason says, "There is a margin of error of 8.233 percent, given the current
situation."

Iason's green eyes return to Dahish, his hands still up. "I fear your
probability of survival has
dropped to 8.343 percent, since the poison is in all likelihood entering her
system."

Jenaa adds calmly, ". . .And I suspect the likelihood of your death
approaches 1 as the blade
penetrates the Lady's neck."

The sergeant sees Etta's blood and bellows, "Squad! Fire!"

Martin's face turns into a mask after he sees Etta's face.

Iason continues his calm, non-stop commentary. "Correction - 2.182 percent
survival probability,
with a 97.111 percent probability of death."

Lochinvar yells, "NO!, you might hit the princess!"

Iason makes a short sidestep, to move between any guns and the Princess.

The Harkonnen guards snap their weapons up and take aim at Dahish, while the
Sergeant steps
forward and seizes Etta by the waist, attempting to pull her aside.

Srulin yells out towards the sergeant and the squad. "No! Protect all
women!" As he frowns, he
lunges for the princess, with some others to help protect her.

Martin sees the sergeant going for the waist. He charges forward and grabs
the knife arm to pull it
away from her throat.

Lochinvar looks at the Sergeant, "DO NOT FIRE IN THIS ROOM!"

Srulin grumbles something about the sergeant and his stupidity.

Dahish drives his knife as hard as he can into Etta's throat. Or where he
thought it was. His knife
cuts a neat slit along the side of her neck, just piercing the skin. He
glances out, wildly for the
moment. Srulin just leaped to Etta. He lunges forward, intending to bury his
knife in Srulin's
belly.

The staccato hiss of needle fire fills the air. The sergeant topples, blood
spilling from a wound in
the back of his head.

Etta falls aside as she is grabbed by the sergeant, feeling the knife scrape
along her neck even as

Dahish lunges for Srulin.

Lochinvar rushes in, jumps in and covers the princess.

Iason blurs into motion, knocking the princess out of the line of fire as he
drops and shoves at her
with his foot.

Dahish moves lightning fast, like a snake snapping up a rat.

Lochinvar yells, "STOP!"

Jenaa starts to move under cover, her eyes widening as she is shoved out of
the immediate line of
fire.

The needle fire sprays the area near Dahish, gouging holes in the walls.
Anyone near Dahish
would be in a hail of sharp deadly metal.

The sergeant lies very still, eyes open, not moving.

Iason hits the ground hard, bleeding from about a dozen places, rolling to
absorb the impact.

Srulin falls to the ground, to dodge incoming fire. He does lift a leg
though to throw the culprit off
guard, even though he has it raised into the line of fire.

Martin goes flying forward onto his stomach. The wounds in his back from the
rounds can be
seen.

Lochinvar pulls his heavy battle assault sword covering the princess.

Etta lays on the floor, stunned for the moment, staring into the eyes of the
dead guard.

The Harkonnen officer pulls out her gyrojet pistol, sighting on Dahish, but
in this press it's hard to
tell. She lets off a round.

Jenaa leans forward over Iason, covering him. Dark red blood flows from a
single, deep gouge in
the side of her neck.

Lochinvar orders into his communicator, "The princess is in jeopardy, I need
extraction, and a
neutralization of all firing Harkonnens!"

The Harkonnen guards, young and inexperienced, hose down the area with
automatic needle fire,
hoping some sliver catches Dahish.

Srulin quickly pulls a knife from his sleeve and readies it in case of
another attack.

Iason wriggles forward quickly with just his arms, shoving Etta down behind
himself and the dead
guard now that the idiot guards have begun flooding the room with slivers.

Iason says, "Down!"

Martin crawls behind the Settee. He pulls out a needler pistol. A trail of
blood falls him across the
floor.

Dahish springs like a snake, looking ready to hide behind someone, something
when a needle
silently enters the back of his skull. A look of muffled shock crosses his
face, the needle emerging
directly out of his right eye and continuing on its way. Dahish is instantly
turned from a diving
man into a falling ragdoll. Dead.

Etta looks confused as she gets shoved somewhere new and murmurs,
bewildered, "Why are you
bleeding?"

Srulin crouches on the ground, hoping not to be hit, he begins to crawl to a
lifeless body. He
begins yelling out. "Halt your firing! Halt your firing!" Some pain is
emerging from his back, his
legs, almost everywhere.

The Harkonnen officer shoves forward, gyrojet pistol held ready, shield
humming. She kicks at
Dahish's lifeless body, apparently searching for something.

Iason yells back at Etta, "Because some idiot guards decided to spray down a
whole hotel lobby
with needler fire!" He keeps the lady down, ugly red stains spreading along
his back, arms, and
from a cut on the side of his cheek.

Srulin begins to groan as he rolls onto his back. He feels a bit of warmth,
something moist.

Martin watches as the Sardaukar enter the building, holsters the pistol and
collapses on the settee.

Dahish lays on the floor, his eyes glassy, body limp. The back of his head
bleeds gently, as does
his eye, it doesn't look like an eye anymore, sort of like a deflated egg,
clear liquid mixing with
blood to form a pinkish goop that runs down his face, silent in all the
pandaemonium that goes on
around him.

Srulin lays on his back moaning, laying in his own puddle of bright red
blood.

Iason's stretched out on the ground, pinning Etta under himself and a dead
body in Harkonnen
livery which has a large red pool coming form the back of its head.

Etta puts a hand to her throat, feeling the blood tricking down into her
collar and frowns,
"Damn...."

Iason's also looking like he's bleeding from a good half-dozen hits, the
back of his uniform and
the side of his neck stained with blood. "Someone get a Suk over here, now!"
he says loudly,
glancing up. "If there's poison, they'll have to work fast."

Jenaa feels a warmth running down her neck and lifts a hand to the single
deep gouge in her neck,
dark blood quickly covering and flowing over it.

Etta moves a bit to get a better look at Iason, "You don't look so good."

Lochinvar sees that the princess is hurt and yells for a medic.

The Harkonnen officer doesn't find what she's looking for, and bends over
Lady Etta, obviously a
second priority. She speaks into her com unit.

The Harkonnen guards move to secure the area, ignoring the moans of the
wounded and bleeding.

A few move to take up Dahish's body.

Iason shakes his head some, hale enough to do that at least though he
doesn't seem willing or able
to move more. His back's getting pretty well soaked with blood, especially
given the large cut
down one cheek bleeding profusely. "I'll live." he says simply, as calm as
ever. "Someone get a
Suk for Ambassador Karposzev - just in case there was poison on the blade."

Lochinvar looks to the Princess, "What do you need me to do my Lady?"

Dahish's body is searched, quickly, then discarded in the corner of the
vestibule like so much
trash.

Etta clears her throat after trying to talk unsuccessfully, then tries
again, "I don't think it was
poisoned. I don't feel any...just scratched." She raises her voice, "Is
there a Suk?"

Martin chuckles a coughing chuckle. "It hasn't hurt this bad since I was
shot during our Kanly."

Jenaa looks down at her blood soaked hand in quiet amazement. She glances up
at Lochinvar, a
bewildered look on her face, "Get a Suk. . ."

Laying in his pool of blood, Srulin stares up to the ceiling, calmly and
very much unaware of what
has happened. Perhaps he's going into shock? He blinks wondering why he's on
the floor, soaked
with something wet. He knows he's in the Imperial Hotel for he remembers the
walls and the
structure of the ceiling. He groans a little more, unable to talk.

The Harkonnens take custody of Etta, and then lay hands on Iason. "Come with
us, please,
Ambassador," the officer suggests.

Etta states the obvious, "He's wounded."

The officer shrugs, adjusting her dark glasses. "We will see that he gets
proper attention, my
lady." she says.

Etta nods and struggles to her feet only after Iason is lifted up.

Inhaling deeply, Iason balls his fists up under him before trying to push
himself up, ignoring the
bloody wounds and the pain. "Most of them passed clean through, luckily." A
moment later his
arms give out, dropping him in a most undignified fashion to the floor.
"Though it seems there are
some lodged in my arms and three parts of my back." he adds, tone
unchanging.

Srulin continues to glare at the ceiling. "Where's my brother?" he repeats
quickly but in a more
demanding manner for he begins to freak out. "where's my brother?"

Etta helps Iason as best she can.

Lochinvar speaks into a communicator, "I need a Suk at the Imperial Hotel
the princess has been
hurt, and send so some guards for her."

The Harkonnens offer Etta and Iason stretchers, ignoring the bleeding Ginaz
and others. The
officer gives curt commands, speaking into her communicator with her
superior.

Some of his short term memory comes back, but very slowly. Srulin begins to
shiver a little as he
feels coolness. "Is the Princess okay?"

Srulin remains on the floor.

Etta says, "I don't need a stretcher, I can walk."

Iason gets helped onto a stretcher, with a soft oath as he gets moved. "That
will hurt in the
morning."

Jenaa looks up at Lochinvar, her vision blurring. She glances at her blood
soaked hand and falls
back onto the floor as she loses consciousness.

Etta pulls out a handkerchief and applies it to her throat, although the
bleeding has mostly stopped,
and walks along beside the stretcher, accompanying the guards out.

Srulin tries to get up but at that point, he faints and helplessly allows
his head drop to the floor.

Martin stands up stiffly. The pain is visible on his face. He walks forward
for the door. As he
exits, everyone in the room can see the large dark stain on the back of his
coat.

Lochinvar rips his gray uniform shirt off, and presses it against the
princess's throat, while he
cradles her head.

Martin exits through the marble doors.
Martin has left.

Iason tries to reach up to touch the communicator on his collar, cursing a
bit as he looks around.
Finally he grabs it and gives it a rough tug, before speaking into the
pickup quietly.

Jans enters from the hotel lounge.
Jans has arrived.

Calix enters from the hotel lounge.
Calix has arrived.

Jans nearly lunges out of the archway with his cousin, leaning heavily on
his cane. In his other
hand, he carries a nearly empty bottle of brown liquor.

The scene is one of carnage. Blood everywhere. Bodies on the floor. Most are
moaning and
writhing in pain. The rest are dead.

Blood's spilled all about, as the wounded stagger out, the dead body of
Dahish in one corner,
ignored. Smoke and the smell of gore fill the air.

Srulin lays helplessly on the floor in his own puddle of blood, next to the
body of the fugitive. He
looks to be unconscious.

Jans points his bottle at the Ginaz. "Hah. Serves the gypsy right, the young
fool."

Etta stands by the stretcher that carries Iason, surrounded by Harkonnen
guards and in the process
of being led out the door.

Calix steps out to the side of Jans, his stride smooth and as fluid as
always. His cape flickers with
his movements, and instantly, Calix finds himself wildly surprised, and
slightly amused. "It seems
it was a wise choice to let the uncivilized annoyance flee without our
pursuit." Calix's eyes fall
onto the Ginaz Jans motioned to, "That could very well have been you, Lord
Viscount."
Formality, now that others are present.

Jans looks to Iason, obviously drunk. "And the gypsy lover! Oh, this is
grand. But the lovely
young girl made it okay, Calix. You have lost your wager."

Iason mutters into his combadge as he gets wheeled out.

Lochinvar yells out loud, "I need a medic!" He stays there afraid to move
the princess.

You leave the hotel.

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