The time since Leeta's "adventure" regarding Moffat's office has been a regular whirlwind of activity, punctuated by periods of trying to get a little rest. The exhausted cheetah was unable to get very far through the papers when she first had them, before collapsing into a troubled sleep … and then, when she awoke, the Technopriests took Tahir off for some unspecified tasks, and sent Leeta out on this chore or another, without Tahir around to say otherwise.

Finally, it is evening again, and Leeta is alone in the Candidate's quarters. The papers are where she hid them, undisturbed, along with the "coat" that was left in the office, formerly worn by Moffat's would-be assassin.

During this time, Leeta has picked up a few developments. First of all, Inquisitrix Turtle is not in the Temple. Rather, she went on a trip to the surface, and is presently out and about, using some of her accumulated "vacation time" – possibly even on sabbatical. Next, there was word of the mysterious death of Lord Titus haut Mikide, world-travelling poodle and former owner of Leeta's own father and mother, Ibis and Abana.

Leeta sits on her cot, nervously staring at the hiding place. The guards she's been expecting all day to come and accuse her of looting Moffat's office never arrived. The cold dread that she was recognized is starting to fade, and be replaced with the hope that maybe she won't get caught for this.

Titus died in his sleep, it is said. But then, that has been happening a lot lately. Several persons in Rephidim City were discovered dead in the morning, having gone in their sleep. Young, old, of various stations, with no connection, just that most were roughly middle-class.

Not hide nor hair of Moffat has been found, and he's certainly not away on vacation – At least, he hasn't informed anyone through proper channels of his absence. A rumor has been circulating that he has been caught in certain illegal activities and is now being sought for questioning.

The Savanite wonders about all these things, and how, or if, they're tied together. She doesn't want to be involved, she doesn't want Tahir involved, but it's a little late for that. By keeping the information from Chaser, and whoever she worked for, Leeta has put herself into the game. Looking around the candidate's room, not quite able to shake the feeling she's being watched, she removes the bundle from its hiding place.

The bundle is still just as Leeta left it, untouched: the papers from Moffat's office, and the sealed message.

Unwrapping the folders, she sets them down on Tahir's table. The cloak concerns her. Her fur rises all the way up her back to her mane, every time she touches it. The thought that someone skinned a Savanite, or several, for it, makes her stomach heave. She forces herself to examine it, hoping maybe she's wrong, or that maybe there is some other clue to it's origin.

The coat appears to have been put together from multiple pieces of spotted fur, not just a single skin.

It has a silky inner lining, and its overall manufacture speaks of fine crafting and wealth – notwithstanding the gruesome means of procuring the furs, of course, required for it.

Leeta shivers, turning it over and thinking about the poor slaves who died to make this. She looks for a label inside, some furrier's mark that identifies it's origin. Running her fingers along the lining she feels for anything between the pelt and silk, a hidden pocket or broken seam.

However, further inspection of the lining reveals some mending has been done on the inside, to roughly sew shut some nasty tears that would not seem to be caused by wear, the mending not being in line with the means that one would normally have to get such a coat in the first place.

The label proclaims the name of "Imperial Furriers" in a very art nouveau-esque font.

She picks at the seam, trying to open it up. Leeta's claws normally would be sharp enough, but she's been chewing them down with worry. She feels around the stitching, checking for a repair in the pelt on the opposite side, and to see if something, like a piece of paper, might be hidden between the two layers.

Repairs on the opposite side of the pelt match that in the lining, and are just as roughly done, though the fur covers the stitches. The stitches are not hard to pull apart, even with blunt claws, but nothing is revealed in between the lining and fur.

{I am so sorry.} Leeta thinks of the nameless Savanites who made up the cloak. {Sent naked to the Procession. No rites, no memory. That someone would treat you this way! Cloud-Mark would never let someone buy this. Never let one of her Templars own this. Third-Eye couldn't even be this evil.} She stares at the hated artifact, looking at the spots.

The spots bear no familiar patterns. Perhaps that is just as well.

Letting her hand slide through the repaired gash, she imagines where the cut would land on someone wearing the cloak. {A cloak of death, that's what this is. I'm not sorry for anyone that owned it. I will get you all a proper burial, I promise. It's theleast I can do.} Leeta folds it, feeling the marks on her muzzle grow damp again.

Her hand, if it were touching through the gashes on the wearer, would land somewhere on the back … at first nowhere special, but then the nature of the gashes seems to fit in place a little better … It would seem the gashes were caused by violent introduction of a weapon to the wearer, either from the back … or from the front and all the way through.

She sets the Savanite cloak gently beside her on the cot, wishing the same end for everyone involved with this vile object. Leeta moves to Tahir's table and looks at the folders. The one sealed by the Arch Inquisitor Supreme, she'll leave that one for the moment. {As long as I don't open it, I haven't disobeyed anyone. I was told to give it only to Moffat.} Instead she turns to the things she stole from her former master.

The stacks of papers are organized into folders. One of them is labelled, "Insurance". Another is labelled, "Last Will and Testament". The rest are unlabelled.

The red-haired Savanite picks up the "Last Will and Testament", opening it and starting to read.

This page looks familiar. The folders must have gotten shuffled around a bit during her adventures, but this must have been the one that was on top. It has a long list of names. It does not, however, list just what is being bequeathed to them, nor any "I, Caesar Moffat, being of sound mind… "

The first name on the list is one Lord Titus haut Mikide. The next few names are unknown, but a few look vaguely familiar, as if Leeta had heard them mentioned recently.

Leeta feels a very cold chill flow through her, as if the ghosts from the cloak joined beside her to read the list. The names match the ones she can recall from the rumours. Feeling very trapped, just wanting to run away, she reads them all. {If they're dying, does that mean that Moffat is dead as well? Are these his friends, or his enemies? Who is giving them their inheritance.} She looks for her own name.

The list is hand-written, and several names have been crossed out, then written back in, or replaced, or moved around in order.

But, on the second page, a barely legible scrawl can be deciphered as possibly reading (if perhaps misspelled), as "Leeta".

She stares, the paper starting to shake in her hand. Everything closes in till she can focus on just her name. Someone will be coming to give her Moffat's reward. Her only hope is to keep running and stay ahead.

There are more pages in this folder. Moffat's list is long, though the names on the second page don't fill the entire page, but rather stop off about two-thirds of the way down. The third page starts with names again, though the paper looks older than the first two, and on a different type of parchment as well.

Fire-Mane glares at the sheet. {I'm not going to be a coat! I'm not going to just wait and let this happen. I'll die in my sleep like all the others.} She sets all three beside each other, and starts comparing the lists, looking to see who is crossed off, and never re-written in. Trying to recognize and find a significance to those individuals.

{Is this Moffat's handwriting, or someone else's?} The thought crosses her mind as she compares.

Many of the crossed-off names are so thoroughly crossed-out that there's no way of telling the names. Others offer better chances. It takes considerable study to even read many of the names, let alone mentally match them, but memories of Moffat's rantings come back, triggered by some of the names. It is undoubtedly Moffat's handwriting. Except for her experience with his quirks, she wouldn't have much chance of reading it.

As for the pattern that matches, it would seem that those who have been removed either passed away, or else are those who Moffat for whatever reason stopped mentioning in his rants. Apparently this is a who's who of whomever Moffat dislikes … or otherwise has some sort of grudge against. Not that he should have any grudge against Leeta. And some of these names – It's not clear why they're here. Most of them are full names, but a few are just one name. Like "Jezebel".

The third page has a much longer, more expansive list. Very few of these would seem to earn Moffat's rants. In fact, a number of the names he has spoken favorably of – or else merely spoke of them in mocking terms. The handwriting is smaller, and there are fewer changes. But, also, the makeup of the list is far more comprised of a who's who of the Temple, and of Rephidim high society and business circles.

Leeta looks over the other page, {So, a list of enemies, and friends. Where would Bridge Officer Nimiss show up on this?} She searches the sheets for that name, and then with a sudden deepening of dread, looks to see if Tahir is there as well.

No mention of Tahir can be found on any of the lists. Nimiss does not show up, either, although Moffat has often spoken of him – alternately in flattering or in crudely insulting terms.

{I wonder who is acting on these lists? Chaser! No, wait, she only saw part of it last night, and the deaths have been going on for longer. There must be another copy someplace. I can only hope it isn't up to date.} Leeta muses, glancing at her name as she closes the folder. She opens "Insurance" next.

She stops, grabs a pen and scratches the 'Leeta' off of the second list so hard she nearly goes through the paper. {My Insurance} Then she reads Moffat's.

The "Insurance" folder has a lot more than just lists of names. For starters, it has several pages of tables – A column of names, then a column of odd phrases that have no apparent meaning, then another column of names, and then some sort of cross-references to other numbered items.

Paging through, there's then a collection of charts … then collections of scribbled notes.

Leeta reads some of the scribbled notes, looking for anything that she remembers doing, or anything that Moffat mentioned in one of his rantings. {What are these charts? Prices of something? What, that drug he uses, is this what it's all about?}

No references to any of his 'medicines' seem to be involved. However, piecing together the notes, Moffat's own musings begin to piece together, in self-praising terms, his grand "Insurance" scheme.

The fire-haired Savanite tries to piece together her former master's scheme.

As the story unfolds after much study, it seems that Moffat must have spent many years making contacts, and then making contacts through contacts, not only in Rephidim, but in various ports on the surface as well. By means of this network, Moffat has distributed packets and items to be held by someone who might not even know Moffat's name. At receipt of some special cue or clue – a certain song played on a certain street corner, a certain sandwich ordered in a certain restaurant under certain conditions, a certain advertisement placed on an abandoned building's wall … At some sign like this, each person is directed to give a packet here, or go sing a song there, or go do something to trigger the next step down the line… and there are several redundancies within this network in case someone fails in their duties.

The resulting machine is such that if Moffat wishes, he can arrange to have someone receive some damaging evidence about any one of a number of people he has information about – for blackmail – of varying degrees of controversy. And … it would seem … there are certain duties he goes through, certain appearances he makes, to keep the gears running in "idle". If Moffat should suddenly disappear … some of the "triggers" start going off themselves.

And, it would seem, some of the latest additions to the packets carried by some of Moffat's secret contacts … would be packets of money designated to be delivered to shady elements in Darkside, along with names. Targets.

Leeta shakes her head, reading through it all. {Cloud Mark was wrong, he did have a grand scheme, and now it's in motion. Theres no way to stop this.} She just stares, at the complexity of it all.

By matching the names, it would seem that Moffat's "Last Will and Testament" would indeed involve "rubbing" a number of persons. The pattern, it would seem, would be not merely of revenge upon enemies, but a blind-shot attempt at hitting whomever might be in a position to have brought Moffat to his untimely (or, as one might argue, timely) demise.

Other elements just involve releasing damaging information that would harm the reputations of high-placed officials, or else making certain bulk sales of stock, and other financial arrangements which would probably ruin a number of businesses in Rephidim and its protectorates.

{He was telling the truth, its all set up to fall and nothing can be done. No, there has to be a way to stop it, some of it. If someone knows soon enough. But who to trust? What can still be interrupted.} The Savanite starts tracing lines and contacts.

Leeta looks for what is scheduled to happen today, 4 days after Moffat's last appearance.

After further study, going even later into the night, it becomes apparent that perhaps some things COULD be done at certain points in the "system". By knowing the proper passwords and instructions – listed here – some of the packets could be redirected to the wrong place … or passed on to a courier of Leeta's choosing. If only she were not a Savanite – If she were free, and able to speak – she could do a great deal of this by herself.

By the charts, cross-referencing to names on the Last Will and Testament, it would seem that Moffat's personal guards are to be eliminated tonight.

Leeta growls at the desk, frustrated by her station and inability to do anything, then reads about the guards. {Nebo! The others. I have to try. This is just revenge, total and complete, at the people who served him. Please Star, let the key to this one involve a slave appearing somewhere.} She reads, with little hope.

Outside the quarters, Leeta can hear the sounds of the Elite Guard greeting someone – Tahir, by the sound of it.

There's a clang somewhere deep within the walls, and then the door begins, ever so slowly, to cycle open.

Leeta grabs everything, and shoves it under the sheet on her bed, then jumps to be near the doorway as it cycles open.

A small human enters the room with a large book tucked under his arm. "Hello Leeta, I'm back."

The Savanite smiles at the human, her anxiety showing as she hops from foot to foot, hoping it is taken as happiness at his return. She signs, "Tahir?" with one hand in formal as soon as his guards won't see it.

The door begins cycling shut again, leaving just Tahir and Leeta inside the quarters.

"Fire-Mane" Tahir responds using his free hand. "Could you give me a hand with this manual… it's rather heavy."

Leeta takes the manual and hefts it over to the desk. She puts it down with a small thump and looks for a piece of paper, grabbing a pen as she does. Writing quickly, she holds the note up, 'Tahir, do you trust me?'

The smile on the Candidate's face melts into a look of confusion. "Of course. Is something the matter?"

'Moffat's guards are going to die tonight.' Fire-Mane scribbles so fast its barely legible. 'He's dead, or kidnapped, or something. He left things to happen if he disappeared. It's too complex to show you now, they have to be warned. They don't deserve this.'

"What? But why would he do such a thing?" Tahir begins pacing. "I can alert the guards outside and the Technopriests… but they are probably going to ask where I came to learn this information. what should I tell them?"

'Revenge! He didn't care. No, we can't tell them.' Leeta writes, 'They don't want you involved in this kind of thing, they'll skin me for bringing it to you.'

Tahir folds his arms. "Then what can we do, Leeta?"

'I don't know who can be trusted, he has lists. It can be stopped, if the right person gets the information.' She scribbles, 'If the wrong person gets it, it might never stop. Moffat set up something to bring all of Rephidim down. His guards, they're either dead, or about to be. It's too late to prevent the assassin coming. I can warn them, if you let me out.'

The human moves to the door. "They're in the barracks right now I imagine. But they probably don't understand hand-sign, and who is to say they will even believe you?"

"I'd need… I'd need a note, something. What would they believe?" the Savanite signs, thinking in gestures and forgetting the human doesn't understand. "Something to get them away from their beds? A late order, something from Moffat?"

Tahir begins pounding on the door. "Open up! My slave and I wish to go to the barracks on urgent business!"

Leeta signs, "No! Tahir" Then remembers and writes, 'No Tahir, it isn't safe! What will you say, what reason?'

The door begins cycling open … at such a painfully slow rate.

The candidate looks back at Leeta. "I will think of something. The guards are more likely to listen to me than to you. Leeta, I am not a child… even if I may resemble one right now."

'Say you're angry they abused me that night you got me, and wanted to chastise them' Leeta writes. 'Let me just go, I'll figure something out.'

The door finishes opening, revealing the group of guards outside.

Tahir straightens himself. "We are going to the barracks. One of the technopriests instructed me to pick up a book from one of the guardsmen." He looks back to Leeta.

Leeta nods, though the concern is very evident on her face.

The guards give Tahir a questioning look. The leader says, "As you wish. We will escort you."

{Tahir, you should send just me, this isn't safe.} Fire-Mane stares at the guard from behind the candidate. {Tell me to go instead, don't let him leave.} As if either could read her thoughts, or expressions.

Leeta takes a piece of paper and pen from the table, and holds it out for Tahir to write on. She makes a bounce bounce from leg to leg. She's been in the room all day, she'd Love to run an errand!

Tahir signs to Leeta, "Want go ahead? Can ask armor-man to follow. Us catch up."

The human sighs and snatches the paper away. "Go. You're faster. Go now."

"Just stay" Leeta signs, and ducks out of the room past the guards.

The guards look after Leeta, but they stay with Tahir as the cheetah disappears down the corridor.

The barracks are not hard to find. If they were, it would be a simple matter of asking directions. By now, Leeta knows the shortest routes, not just by matter of distance, but by what routes would have the most traffic at this time of night. And, that knowledge is bound to come in handy right now.

Fire-Mane sprints for the barracks, her feet pounding as she flies through the corridors. She runs the low traffic and shortest routes, pushing as hard as she can. Inside the room all day, she'd want to run anyhow, now, she has a reason and puts all her strength into it.

Thus, she uses the lesser-travelled routes, and a few that are technically "under construction". Along the way through an otherwise deserted tunnel, she startles a lone lupine guard on her way past.

Leeta only spares an instant glance at the guard, to see if it's one of Moffat's or another. She doesn't have time to stop for anything else.

Nope, not one of Moffat's. Just a short and nervous wolf, and not one that Leeta recognizes.

Just another intersection ahead, with a brief pause to get around some open hatches where some ducts are being (slowly) worked on by the technopriests, and Leeta should almost be to the main barracks.

The Savanite dodges around the obstructions as if they were boulders and trees, around the technopriests as if they were slow moving mammals, and threads her way straight to the barracks.

"Watch it!" cries out a guard who is coming out of the barracks as Leeta dashes by. Inside, there are many bunks, and a few curious faces rise from pillows to gaze in the cheetah's direction in response to the unexpected intrusion.

Leeta stops, looking around. She knows where the barracks are, but she's never been inside them. Moffat's personal guards could sleep anywhere. She looks for any familiar faces among the sleepy ones looking at her. The slave points at her collar, then at an empty bed. Maybe someone will remember who owned her, and make the connection.

The room is dark, with only minimal light to keep anyone from smashing into the bunks by accident, supplemented briefly by the light from the corridor let in by the open door, before it slides shut again. None of those faces looking at Leeta seem to be interested in deciphering her movements. A few of the heads drop again, back into their pillows.

The door slides open again, causing the unfortunate ones bunked near the corridor entrance to grumble and turn away from the light. In comes another guard, and then the door slides shut again.

The Savanite starts moving down the line of bunks in the dark, using all care to remain silent. She watched the guard who entered, hoping to recognize him, and tries to keep her distance in the dark. Maybe if she's lucky, she'll be able to find one of Moffat's own by their smell; her nose isn't strong, but they were.

The guard who just entered is the same one that Leeta just passed in the hallway. He walks slowly past the bunks, taking his steps in such a way that indicates he probably does not share Leeta's gift for seeing well in the dark.

Leeta stays ahead of the guard, moving as silently as she can. Watching him, thinking {Someone who lived here would know where everything is in the dark, wouldn't they? Maybe he's had a bad day.} She isn't convinced though, and her eyes remain on him as she checks the bunks.

As for the wolves, there are many. This is, after all, the main barracks for the Temple. So far, Leeta hasn't found any familiar faces that would belong to Moffat's guard. However, this is further complicated by the fact that many have buried their heads in their pillows or under their sheets or are simply turned away so that when the doors open the light won't wake them.

As for the one wolf Leeta keeps a special eye on … He evidently doesn't know his way around as well as he ought to, and he's not dressed like a new recruit.

She keeps trying to find someone she recognizes, but watches the lone lupine even more. Her suspicions even more aroused. Staying ahead of him, Leeta's focus is on being quiet, and looking for something to confirm her guess, like the glint of a knife.

The lone lupine pauses next to one of the bunks, one occupied by a particularly large wolf who is making noises like a strangling Bromthen forest-hog. The bunk above the large noisy wolf is empty.

Upon further recollection, the loudly-snoring wolf seems about the right size and fur color to pass for Nebo, one of Moffat's not-quite-so-bright-but-still-hard-working guards.

The Savanite slips to the other side of the bunk, grabbing the pillow off the empty one above in a silent motion, and holding it ready to swing. She gets revenge on Nebo for binding her in the inquisition chair, and hopefully wakes him and saves his life, by slapping him hard across the muzzle with her free hand. She hits on the side closer to the strange lupine, and gets ready with the pillow.

Nebo's eyes shoot open. "Rrrr?" Across the bunk, Leeta catches a glint of light reflecting off of something held by the standing wolf.

Fire-Mane BARKS! She swings the pillow at the glint, hoping for surprise.

The standing wolf seems to have not noticed Leeta at all, rather focusing on the waking Titanian. So it is that he is caught off guard. There's a sound of something shattering against the floor.

Nebo leaps up from his bunk, smashing his head against the bunk above him, making a cracking noise as the wood splinters! He growls loudly, and even the most weary guards are stirring from their sleep – while the most jumpy are already in motion to get up in response to the commotion.

The Savanite grabs the edge of the sheet from the top bunk and rips it across onto the other lupine as she moves across the back of the bed.

The sheet flies over the other lupine, the advantage of seeing in the low light – and surprise by stealth – going to Leeta. As Nebo lowers his head from smashing into the upper bunk, the broken wood collapses.

The wood falls upon Nebo … and also on the sheet-covered wolf. Nebo growls loudly, smashing the wood into smaller bits and tearing his own sheets as he struggles to untangle himself.

Leeta dodges to the side, grabbing for a piece of wood, and swings at the lupine's head. Trying to miss Nebo, of course.

*CRACK* The wood smashes against the head of the sheet-covered wolf. He falls over. However, Nebo grabs out … and grapples Leeta in a bear hug – or a wolf hug, if you prefer.

The Savanite goes limp, making a mewling cry as Nebo squeezes her painfully. She doesn't struggle, and hopes he stops soon. It hurts.

By now, the room is in motion as guards leap from their beds, some grabbing for weapons, others thinking to turn up lamps. An alarm has been sounded, though the barks and roars should suffice to call plenty of attention to the ruckus.

Nebo growls shaking his head back and forth, sending bits of torn sheets flying, along with bits of splintered wood. He looks down at the red-haired cheetah in his grasp, and at last loosens his grip, whining in confusion.

{Oh Star, please don't let me have hit a new guard,} Leeta thinks, as Nebo releases her and she can breathe again. She points at the sheet covered form sharing the bed with the Titanian.

Some other guards extract the flailing form from the sheets … and as soon as he's out, he kicks at one of the guards and dashes for the door.

Leeta points at the fleeing form, barking, caught in Nebo's grip.

The departing wolf doesn't have a chance. He's piled upon by several angry Jupanis.

It takes a couple of guards to coax Leeta free from Nebo's confused grasp, but at last she's back on her own feet. She has to watch her step, though, because of some broken glass on the floor, and a puddle of a quickly evaporating liquid.

The Savanite barks, pointing at the broken shards, hoping the Jupani will see the liquid before it all disappears.

One of the guards drops down, sniffing at the puddle with his keen nose. He looks back up. "Poison."

Leeta nods, standing there with her head respectfully bowed.

Nebo just blinks. It's probably going to take him a while to put all the pieces together. Instead, he gives up and just slams his head back down into his pillow, amidst the ruins of his bed. Within seconds, he's snoring loudly again.

Meanwhile, several of the other guards are busily arguing amongst themselves, trying to figure out what happened as well. One of them inspects Leeta's collar.

The door to the barracks bursts open and an out of breath human runs in, quickly followed by four Elite guardsmen.

The red-maned slave looks around to see if any other of Moffat's guards, are present and awake. She gives a glance at the guard who looks at her collar, then stands more straight as Tahir and the elite guard arrive.

One of the guards at the scene barks, "Please! We've had an attack here! It's not safe!" He looks worriedly at the candidate.

A couple of guards who look familiar as being in Moffat's service can be seen amongst those roused from their beds.

Tahir looks to Leeta, "Did you… ?" his voice trails off in ragged breaths.

A couple of guards hold up a battered-looking wolf in an ill-fitting uniform. "We have the perpetrator in custody," one declares. The perpetrator in question looks like he'll be spending some time in the infirmary before he can be properly questioned.

She nods, pointing at the group holding the strange lupine, signing, "I stopped it, yes," hoping Tahir catches some of it. The fire-haired Savanite makes sure to glance at the guards she recognizes.

The human smiles. "Bless the legs of a Savanite." He steps back into the middle of his guards and waits quietly.

Leeta joins Tahir's side, expecting no one to prevent her, and no one does.

…

By the time Leeta and Tahir return to quarters, news gets to the candidate that the "strange wolf" was – by all appearances – an assassin using some sort of poison. Although the poison quickly evaporated, its nature was determined to be consistent with a type of poison that could well be tied in with a number of recent mysterious deaths.