It was in the middle of the first drink when the well-built brunette and her Stormer friend showed up at his office and walked in without knocking. There weren't any operatives on PR-40 and the chill he had been trying to shake got worse and settled in his stomach. Even with the building fear, he still caught a whiff of her hair and figured sadly that this was another good looking pie that he'd never get a piece of.
"James Getter," she stated. "We're Operatives Barker and Jester and you're under arrest."
He almost choked on his ice before spitting it off across the room.
"W-what? Under arrest for-"
"For general sedition, embezzlement, and gross mismanagement," she continued, reaching under her jacket and pulling out a pair of cuffs. Even with the growing terror, he couldn't help but admire the shape of her body and realized that he indeed was getting drunk off his ass. On the good side, at least he wasn't at the point of slurring his words or going for a grope quite yet.
"I don't understand," he said, holding his hands up carefully. "I'M the one that reported the accounting problems, not the one behind it!"
"Here's the warrant," she said, dropping a document on the desk over his glass. "It'll go a little easier if you cooperate."
"Look, Miss-I mean, Operative Barker," he said, trying to edge around to put the heavy metal desk between them. The big bug-eyed Stormer (wasn't that a Xeno?) was already moving around to intercept him and flexed its claws as it got closer. "I really haven't done anything wrong. I'm sure that I can explain everything if you'll just give me a chance."
"I didn't travel all the way out here to 'give you a chance,' Getter," she answered, folding the cuffs into one hand. "I'm here to arrest you. Are you going to cooperate?"
"Ye-yeah, sure," he muttered. Getter wasn't sure what could have happened. After all, he hadn't done anything traceable. Perhaps someone manufactured something? He began running through the list of employees who might have an axe to grind and the means to grind it, but there were so many that he quickly lost count. Maybe it was the cute redhead from the last rotation or even Jenny Kramer from the current one but she didn't have the spine for such things. Or did she? She definitely had a chip on her shoulder earlier.
The lights cut out in the room and Getter snapped around, praying that the Operatives didn't just start shooting. He stayed in place with his hands in front of him with palms up, praying that no one did anything he would regret.
"Run for it. P-llllleeeazzze" the Xeno whispered quietly in the darkness near his ear, its voice sounding like a death rattle. He had heard that their kind liked to play with their prisoners and the shakes started again in earnest.
"I-I-I'm right here operatives. I haven't moved and-" he spoke into the darkness but suddenly the emergency lights snapped on. He was looking down the barrel of the woman's pistol and fought to keep from passing out. Seemingly satisfied that he wasn't trying to escape, she holstered it and carefully picked up her cuffs.
"Just a power outage," he stammered. "We get them out here. Nothing to be worried about."
"Alright," she said and reached for his wrist. "Then let's get this over wi- "
The SLA-mas tunes emanating from the hall were split by a blood-curdling wail. Everyone froze for a moment and then the woman pulled her weapon again.
"What the hell was that?" she asked under her breath.
"It sounded remarkably like someone screaming," the Xeno said and the woman gritted her teeth.
"You don't say!" she growled, carefully looking out into the hall. "Any idea how far away it was?"
"N-no, but you can find out from the security booth," Getter volunteered. "Cameras cover every inch of the station. Y-you should be able to see something from there."
"Watch him," she said to the Xeno and ducked out of the room.
"You'll have to forgive my partner," Jester said, picking the vodka bottle off the desk and splashing the clear liquid into a spare cup. "She's a little high strung."
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