Excerpt:

The lobby was still mostly-controlled chaos. Hotel staff, obviously called to gather and help by Alfonso and Sherry, had begun to mill around, but it didn't look like anyone had started a panicked evacuation of the ballroom, for which Frank counted himself lucky. He spotted Raoul heading into the ballroom, and sped up to intercept the younger man. "Al tell you what's going on?"
Raoul nodded, looking apprehensive. "I can’t believe this shit. A dead guy? On our floor? Al just told me to go in and help some girl with crowd control. No idea how I'm going to find 'Katie' in this freaking mosh pit, though."
"I know what she looks like. I'll show you. Come on." He started into the room, with Raoul trailing in his wake. “You up for this?” he asked over his shoulder, noticing that Raoul seemed to be lagging behind.
“Yeah, I’m just...” He laughed. “This is some weird shit. I mean, the weird shit is weird,” he clarified euphemistically, “but even just this” - a wave of his hand, indicating the population of the room - “is weird. I mean dude, people in blue makeup? And scales and antennas and stuff?” He shook his head and laughed again. “Although I spotted this one chick in this, like, gold metal bikini...”
“There’s at least five of those running around tonight. Some of them are...more suited to it than others.” Suddenly, the crowd they had been pushing their way through melted away, and they found themselves in the middle of the nearly-empty dance floor. The storm trooper he had spoken to earlier in the night had apparently been drafted into service and had brought his ten closest friends; the group of white-suited men had formed a protective ring around the body on the ground and around Katie, who was standing over the dead man giving orders to two Jedi and a very tall Ewok, both of whom were listening attentively.
“...there he is,” Katie said to her recruits as she noticed Frank on the edge of the crowd. “Now go. Clear out whoever you can.” The men nodded and disappeared back into the crowd.
Pulling to a stop next to her, Frank just raised his eyebrows in question.
She smiled slightly. “I have some currency with these guys. Just putting it to use. The storm troopers are on crowd control. They’ve rounded up most of the people who’ve been near the body. Bernie and Dave are going to try to start feeding the other people out into the hallway and get them up to their rooms. Prem’s an EMT. He’s going to do what he can for...you know.” She gestured to the still form on the ground.
It wasn’t how he would have done it, but he had to acknowledge that she seemed to have covered most of the necessary bases. He turned back to Raoul, who had barely talked his way past the storm troopers and was now hurrying to catch up. “Go back out,” he ordered apologetically. “Tell Fonzie to direct people to go to their rooms and stay there. I don’t want people leaving this hotel. See if you can grab someone else and station yourselves at the main doors to try to head off anyone trying to bail out. Don’t,” he added as Raoul started to speak, “put yourself in their way if they’re determined. You get yourself hurt, I’m going to kick your ass. You just sweet-talk whoever you can, and make mental notes if there’s anyone you can’t keep inside. You got it?”
Raoul swallowed and nodded. “I’ll find Palmer,” he said, referring to what Frank knew was the other bellboy that was supposed to be on lobby duty that night. “We’ll cover it.”
“I’m serious, Raoul,” Frank stressed, knowing the young man’s adrenaline was starting to flow. “Nothing heroic. It’s not gonna make you look good, it’s just gonna make you look stupid.”
“I know. I swear.” And he turned, nodded to the storm troopers, and disappeared back into the throng.
Frank turned back to where Katie was patiently waiting for her turn to be given orders. “You did good,” he assured her quickly. “Who are these people, anyway?”
“Well...” She looked around thoughtfully. “Bernie, Prem, and Dave are friends of mine. I trust them. Haven’t gotten the slightest idea who the storm troopers are, but the volunteered for action, so I figured I might as well use them.”
“I know who they belong to. Speaking of which...” He beckoned over the nearest storm trooper, who took a step into the circle.
“Sir?” The man’s voice was muffled by his mask and the noise of the crowd, but Frank almost smiled anyway. He hadn’t been called “sir” so much in one night since he left the force.
“Go find me Gene Mueller. This had damn well better not be another one of his stunts. And send one of your guys to find the security guards that are supposed to be in here. I need them front and center.” Dismissing the storm troopers, he walked to where the man Katie had called Prem was kneeling next to the dead man, attempting what looked like CPR. “How’s he doing?”
Prem looked up at him, and Frank felt stupid for having asked. The Samaritan’s woven robes were soaking up the dead man’s blood, and the situation was obviously hopeless. Still, Prem swallowed and continued the compressions he was doing. “Not...good...” he managed between pants. “Can you come hold this against his neck? I don’t have enough hands.”
Frank hesitated, then knelt down and did as asked. The two men were now only inches away from each other, and as he pressed what looked like someone’s undershirt against the dead man’s neck, he asked again: “How’s he doing?”
Prem shook his head without stopping. “He’s fucked. I’m just not going to be the one who didn’t try to stop it. Move,” he ordered, pushing Frank to the other side of the man’s head so he could give two breaths through the plastic mask that covered the man’s hideous face. “Stay there.”
He was obviously competent at what he was doing, and Frank was content to take orders and try to stop the bleeding. “What’s he dressed up as, anyway?” he asked, looking down at the ridged forehead and heavy eyebrows.
“A Klingon.” Prem smiled. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked, looking around the room pointedly.
“Nope. Hotel security. Guess I’m not in Kansas anymore.”
“Wrong genre, man. This is sci-fi. You’re not on Earth anymore.”
A cough came from behind him, and Frank turned around to find Gene Mueller, looking much diminished, staring down at the body. “Get down here!” he ordered shortly, and when Mueller crouched down, fastidiously avoiding a blood slick, Frank reached out and grabbed him by the collar. “You tell me this isn’t your fault, man. You tell me that now.”
Mueller put up his hands defensively. “I had nothing to do with this. My guy was an actor. This...this is obviously real. I don’t know anything about it. But I see you’ve put my guys to work,” he added tightly, eyeing the ring of storm troopers.
“You got a problem with that?”
“Nope.” He shook his head vigorously. “No problem. Not at all. Except...” He sighed. “This totally fucks over my launch.”
“Whatever you were ‘launching’ is the least of your problems now, man. You keep your ass right here. The police are going to want to talk to you.”
Mueller swallowed, but did as ordered, retreating only as far as the storm troopers and no farther. Just as he reached the farthest trooper, the ring broke open and the crowd parted, as if at some unheard command, revealing two paramedics and two police officers. Frank caught a quick glimpse of them out of the corner of his eye as he looked down to readjust the bloody cloth he was holding, then froze and jerked his head back up. He hadn’t been wrong. There she was. “Well, shit,” he muttered.