Once again, Leeta is by herself in the Candidate's quarters, left with the papers and folders that comprise "Moffat's legacy". The more deadly packets have been dealt with, and some of the more destructive ones after that. Now it's down to matters of blackmail, financial shifts, and a few things that just qualify as dirty tricks and general spite.

Most of the targets of the blackmail or financial measures are in Rephidim, many in the Temple. Some of them are linked together – money being drawn from an investment in order to fund an action being taken to put a packet of information (and evidence) in one "holder's" possession into hands where it could do damage … and where incentive is there to do just that.

Some of the crimes hinted at are minor, some ghastly. Even in these folders are potential proofs of various persons within and without the Temple being guilty of murder and various vices – many of them probably facilitated by Moffat himself, not caring about his reputation being sullied after the grave or … 'prolonged absence'. Some just detail bribes and other things that go on every day, but just don't get much notice as long as there's no face or name to attach the events to, or glaring proof.

Leeta has been trying to do more than a slave should, understand how it all links together and even dare to make judgements. Some of the information is spite, some of it is real crimes. {It's not as if these people are innocent, like I or the guards were. Some of these people might deserve this information to get out.} She pours over the information, trying to find threats close to her and Tahir.

None seem to be distinctly close, other than that this evidences a great deal of corruption that, really, isn't all that great of a surprise anymore to exist in the Temple. The way the "machine" is set up, Leeta could very well set things in motion right now, or stop it, or divert funds in the course of a single day. Indeed, she could work out to have quite a number of shekels essentially delivered into her lap (or the lap of her choice) … but the trouble is, most of those funds come from a number of investments, that, upon being suddenly withdrawn, would wreck several businesses (most of them small) in Rephidim and outside.

So far the Savanite has sorted out all the items she has successfully negated. She isn't sure what she is going to do with them, though sneaking them back into Moffat's safe has occurred to her. The discovery of some of his secrets might stop people looking for all of them, and Leeta is sure someone is looking.

For now, there's no rush. The "automated" system takes a bit of a break for a few weeks, to do things on its own. It's a matter of either just letting things go, speeding them up, redirecting the "packets" (of funds and/or evidence) as desired, or just directing the couriers to "wait".

Leeta chews one of her claws, looking over the information on the rest of the machine. There is the potential for so much destruction in it, but is there the chance of turning it to something good? She can wait, that will give her a bit of time to think. The sheer power contained in the files overwhelms her, but maybe an action here, or an action there could change the results to something positive. That's her hope anyhow, and she searches for ways to alter things for the better.

The Savanite thinks of her friends first, Zoltan at the Shiny Shoppe, and the guards's Bromthen Heaven. Leeta wants to make sure any investments in those two establishments don't suddenly vanish.

Sure enough, there are some funds that would be pulled from Bromthen Heaven, supposedly from multiple investors, in order to fund a number of other actions to have some damaging information about a priest with an interest in pretty young things. From what little can be gleaned, the priest in question is scum, and should be in shackles, not robes … but if events were left as-is, the favorite establishment of the Guards (at least the lupines) would close its doors forever, the proprietor in ruin.

Nothing hints at Nicodemis' Shiny Shoppe, however. Perhaps it is too small – or focused – an establishment to attract Moffat's notice.

{Oh Star, he always ruined things for those close to him.} Leeta fumes, neither option really appealing to her. The guards would probably find a new place to eat … but they might not. It is a taint typical of Moffat, to make justice somehow hurt innocent people who weren't involved. {Maybe theres a way to get the money from someplace other than the Heaven, someone who deserves to lose it more.} Leeta looks for such a place.

A bit of research turns up some businesses which at first seem perfectly respectable … but after some more cross-referencing of names and dealings, it would seem that some are actually fronts for less reputable business. Certainly those could take some damage. For the time being, disaster averted, at least in this case.

As it is, a trip to Bromthen Heaven and a sliced meat sandwich with a few strange toppings (which Leeta can always pick off… ) should solve the problem, provided there is a hungry wolf she can feed it to. That shouldn't be hard to find. Just as long as he's willing to wear an ugly hat while doing so.

Leeta startles as she chews down to her fingertip, then moves onto another growing out claw. {I shouldn't be doing this, its above me. Can I trust someone else to handle it though? At least this way I can make sure the people I care about don't get hurt.} She tries to convince herself, not very successfully, as she looks for information on the quartermaster, something her sister Long Lope might be able to use.

There are a few bits of information about the Quartermaster, but they are things that are fairly minor, and would probably do little but make a ripple in the pond. Something hints that Moffat really strained to find something against the Quartermaster, but must have fallen short. However, there is plenty of proof of the Quartermaster's wife's infidelity.

The Savanite takes a piece of paper, and writes down actions she'll have to take. One of them being to save the Bromthen Heaven. Fortunately it seems theres no deadline, and ironically it appears the proprietor of the place is the unknowing courier for his own financial demise. {That is just so… I hope I can use this, and not be dragged down by it. I don't want to turn into Moffat, I'm afraid I will if I look at this too long.} She then tries to decide what to do about the Quartermaster's wife.

Several packets are scattered around about the Quartermaster's wife. And, with a similar bit of surely intentional irony, some of the packet-holders are amongst Jena Rika's "admirers", destined to unknowingly smear themselves as well, for a modest pay in shekels for a seemingly simple enough delivery.

{I'm going to have to think about it a little more. Though there is a sense of justice to this one. Still … it would hurt some uninvolved people I'm sure, like her husband. Something else to look at instead, I wonder if theres some way to help Cloud Mark} Leeta starts looking for what Moffat was using against the Champion, curious just what she was willing to die over.

Various packets spell out a litany of accusations against the Champion, many of which individually would just be accusations and may well have no truth to them, but combined with the few that carry evidence, the rest would probably be considered just for sheer number. Among other things, it details Cloud Mark's origin as a child captured with Savanite slaves, reported to the Temple when she started mimicking the speech of her captors, and then somehow shuttled into a number of programs, with some intervention by a certain dark unicorn for reasons unknown … but strongly hinted to be less than reputable by these documents.

Some of the packets would do little more than perhaps embarrass the Champion … but the story pieced together introduces the Champion's origins … and then discredits some of the accounts. The final story the reader is meant to be left with would seem to paint the Champion as a deformed Savanite, placed into a position as a Champion as a personal puppet of a certain Aeonian Inquisitor, with facts about her previous life invented to justify her position.

{This I think is just safe to throw down the waste disposal.} Leeta checks to make sure that any of the relevant documents don't have anything else on them. She looks over Moffat's sources, curious just how he got some of this information. {Maybe it will give me some idea of what people watch for … with me.}

No details are given of sources. The information contained here basically just seems like reminders so Moffat would be able to tell for sure who would be affected by what information … and what might perhaps be irrelevant or inappropriate. As for sources and such, more detailed information must be included in the actual packets waiting to be delivered.

{I'm getting tired, I nearly tossed the stuff that would save Cloud Mark, and let the things that should be burned go free.} The Savanite shakes her head, running her hands through her mane and hanging onto her ears. {Okay, how to get all those packets someplace useless, or to me, or to Cloud Mark. It has to be somewhere.}

It takes more study, and more work … and a bit of scribbling of charts and lots of notes to make sense of the system. It was written, after all, for the person who wrote it – not to teach someone unfamiliar with the workings. But there it is … By getting a bard (or any musician) to play a particular melody on a certain street corner at sunset on any particular day of the week near a curio shop in the Scholars' Quarters, and by having a note with (coded) instructions to give an old teacher, that should do the trick … and get the packets delivered wherever desired in Rephidim City.

Leeta's ears wiggle, she has a very good idea where she could get a musician. {The location is safe too, I could be out late there and not have to worry any more than usual.} She looks over the three tasks in front of her, then straightens her stiff back as she tries to see out the skylight and guess what time of day it is.

It's daytime, late afternoon. About time for an early supper for some.

The Savanite wanders around in the room, trying to decide, {Should I go wait for Long Lope, or try talking Nebo into going out for dinner. Theres enough time and more to make that street corner. There might be other things in there to look at… } She stares at the papers spread all over the desk, her cot and Tahir's bed by her efforts to understand them. Leeta growls at them, then her ears wiggle.

{I've done enough of this for today. It can all wait, it's time I do something for myself.} Fire-Mane carefully gathers up the information, keeping the relevant material together so the next time through won't be so hard. She separates out the information on the aborted assassinations, and for Long Lope, and puts them in separate folders. Finally she hides it all away in the usual place.

One piece of paper remains on the desk, the letter she's been trying to write to Third Eye for several days. Leeta seems unable to get beyond just her name, and now is no different. She looks at the paper for a moment, then picks up her mandolin. {That can wait too, now I'm going to play.