Inside Rephidim Temple, at night, Leeta has met with one of her master's "friends" on the Temple steps, and is escorting her to his private quarters, though that's a bit of a walk yet. This is a new one. Near as Leeta can tell, Moffat met her at a recent party, and dumped his previous "friend" in favor of her. There's something unsettling about her demeanor. For one thing, there's that spotted fur coat, which has a certain macabre flair to it. But, for another, she has such a cold gaze, looking as if she's glaring daggers at everyone and everything she gazes upon. But then, perhaps that's what makes her appealing to the likes of Inquisitor Moffat.

Leeta tries not to look at the Lady Kattha's spotted apparel, and tries even harder to ignore the compliments she gives the slaves, about her own unique appearance. Very relieved, the slave and the lady arrive outside of Moffat's door. Leeta turns, smiling and opening the door.

The red-maned slave stands out of the lady's way, and tries to remember why she seems so familiar. Something about her walk, though Leeta can't remember who it could possibly be.

Inside, Caesar Moffat is waiting, wearing a big fluffy robe, standing barefoot on the carpet. His foot has healed enough so that he's only wearing a few bandages. He acts surprised. "Oh my! I wasn't expecting you so SOON! And here I am, dressed like THIS … (gasp!) But, please, do come in… " He looks to Leeta and says, "Come in and pour us some wine, would you?"

Leeta nods to her master, slipping in behind the lady and closing the door. She rests her mandolin out of the way, and retrieves the wine tray, with two glasses. Setting them beside Moffat and his friend, she pours them each some red wine.

The Khatta walks in, purring, "Well, Caesar, it is so good to see you again. Oh, and this slave of yours. Isn't she a darling? I've never seen hair quite like that. And she's so tall. Oh!" She looks at Leeta as the slave's back is turned. "What is that? Some sort of markings on her back. Well now, I don't believe I've EVER seen that. But I've heard legends, you know. Just silly fables… "

Leeta's hand shakes as she hears the lady's words, but she doesn't spill any wine as she finishes pouring.

Moffat sits down on the couch, leaning back, making no move to go change into more appropriate attire. "Fables, really? Well, I've little interest in fables. But … " He stops with a laugh. "That is a beautiful coat you have. But if you have any intentions toward making another one out of my slave, I shall have to disappoint you. For the time being, she is useful."

"Oh. You like this coat? Oh, really, I DO think it is positively to DIE for, don't you think?" The Kattha giggles, moving across the room to stand behind Moffat and the couch. She reaches down and starts massaging his shoulders.

Leeta serves Moffat and the Lady. Ripples spread across the surface of the wine from her shaking hands. She sets the tray down near to Moffat and his lady, trying not to see the woman's expression, trying not to look at the lady's coat. Just trying to remain as useful as possible despite her fear.

Moffat hmmms, smiling at the massage, closing his eyes. "Oh, yes, I certainly think so… "

The woman's expression still burned across Leeta's gaze, not one of love for Moffat, or even affection. Leeta last saw a look like that on Naoko, when she had to help the old slave throw out some maggot infested hog.

The lady Kattha smiles. "Certainly. And you'd be rather shocked at what I had to go through to GET this coat." Her gaze wanders from the back of Moffat's head, up toward Leeta. While looking at Leeta, she says, "Caesar, darling, don't you think we could use some privacy? You are such an intriguing man. I would like to get to know you better, but I so disdain distractions."

Moffat's slave seems quite happy with that suggestion, and takes her mandolin. She stands beside the door, ready to leave as soon as she is told to.

Moffat, eyes still closed, hmms, then says, "Oh, no, she's just an animal. She's handy to have around in case we have need of anything. Just think of her as … furniture." He cracks open one eye to add, "But NOT a wardrobe, hmm?" He smirks.

The Kattha "giggles" coldly, taking one hand away from Moffat's shoulders to reach up to her own coat. "Very well then, Caesar, my dearest. It does not make any difference."

Leeta puts the mandolin down, calmed a little by Moffat words, the BARKS!

Moffat's eyes pop open, giving Leeta an annoyed look. "What IS it, you mangy – AHHHHH!"

Leeta charges Moffat and his woman, grabbing at her master and pulling him away from the lady.

A line of red traces across the poodle's breast, just under his neck, as he is knocked away from the knife-bearing Kattha. He utters a long stream of profanities, flailing about.

The Kattha hisses loudly, casting off the fur coat and leaping to the top of the couch, knife borne like a warrior, not some lady of the night, noble or gold-digger. "DIE, curr!"

Leeta Barks! Growling, she grabs anything in reach on the desk and throws it at the Kattha. Stepping away from her, terrified of the knife, still trying to stay between Moffat and the warrior.

Leeta can't fight this, she can't win this, she needs a guard. She tries to give her master seconds to move, still barking, dancing back from the warrior.

The Kattha yowls and hisses, swinging with the knife as if it were a sword – which it is not. She deftly dodges the thrown objects, but is still thrown off balance, leaping back over the couch.

The slave grabs her master's by the robes, trying to drag him to his feet, to the door.

Leeta BARKS! {Where are the guards!} Her thoughts race as she tries to remember where the last one she saw was.

The poodle protests as he's dragged along. Outside, Leeta finds Moffat's personal guards absent … as is his habit to send them away when he has "special guests". However, there should be some more not far down the hall.

"MURDER! ASSASSINS!" Moffat shrieks.

Leeta's barks – and Moffat's screams – seem to be drawing attention. Several lupine guards are charging down the corridor, toward the scene.

Leeta holds onto her master, still staying between him and the door to his room, her whole body trembling.

The slave keeps looking into the room, expecting a blade, an attack, to emerge at any second. She tries to push Moffat towards the safety of his guards.

The Kattha leaps out into the hall, bloodied dagger held, and she looks at Leeta bodily protecting the poodle. "Fool," she hisses, looking at the cheetah, as the poodle bolts for the guards. Seeing the approaching guards … she turns the dagger on herself. "FOR THE GLORY OF THE OLD WAYS!"

The slave tries to remember where she's seen that face before. One of the Magenta Lance!

Leeta dives at the warrior's legs, in a ball trying to knock her over before she plunges the dagger down.

The guards cry out, "HALT! Or we'll – " just as Leeta rushes the suicidal Kattha. The Kattha screams out, her knife-hand flailing, as she's knocked backward, fabric tearing as she falls to the floor.

{I'm going to die. I'm going to die} Leeta thinks as she hits, expecting to feel the blade sliding into her back. Any second expecting to feel the stab. She rolls trying to get away, out of range, eyes sweeping around her for anything to grab.

"GRAB THEM!" Leeta goes down under the weight of several armored lupine guards. Presumably the same is happening to the Kattha. Hopefully.

Leeta cries out as the heavily armored guards land on her. No knife, she's alive! She goes still the Jupani grab at her.

"NO! NO! Let me DIE! You're supposed to KILL me!" the Kattha shrieks from somewhere out of Leeta's range of vision – obscured by the bulk of several guards … and then the cheetah is borne away, held while the guards bark to each other, and at last taken back to be roughly deposited at her quarters, while the other slaves look on in intermingled fear and curiosity.

Leeta curls up in the corner beside her bed, pulling the blanket off it and clutching it around her. She still shakes from her fear-rush, and moans quietly to herself.

Leeta shivers in the corner, her legs pulled tightly against the arms that grasp the blanket around her. The events repeat in her mind, the knife, Moffat, the warrior, and the guards who took forever to show. Imagined stabs slice into her. The knife. She cries against the bed from the terror of it all, and her worry about what will happen next.

There are the sounds of hard boot-steps, and then some lupine barks. A guard pokes his nose into Leeta's quarters. "You! Come with us."

The slave stands, still shaking, and goes to follow the guard. She almost drags the blanket out with her, but remembers to let go, leaving it dropped in a twisted line of cloth to her door.

The guard roughly grabs Leeta, and half-drags her out, through the corridors. "I have her, Lieutenant!" he barks.