Dromo opens the door to allow the Shiga to enter. The slave steps back out of the way as the Naga Inquisitor on the desk looks up. "Ah Tugssley," he hisses, "I'm so sorry my schedule has been too busy to meet with you for lunch. What can I help you with?"

Scotch makes sure his bow goes lower than the edge of the desk before replying. "I, as well, wish we could be chatting about Imperial affairs, but I'm afraid I bring a matter of grave import before the Temple. One which I fear I must tell to Bridge Officer Nimiss himself."

"Oh?" The little garter pauses amidst the items on his desk. They are all out of scale, and more appropriate for Dromo, who moves to take the seat. The Savanite ends up staring directly over the pens and Inquisitor at the Chameleon. Vassoy also looks his way and hisses, "You had better tell me a little about it, Nimiss has many more demands on his time, but obviously would want to hear about something critical."

The shiga bobs his head a bit, glancing at Dromo once before looking back at the Inquisitor. "I think that's certainly warranted. Before I do that, however, I might have to explain a few minor details, about the tasks I performed in the Nagai Empire. Your time is valuable too, of course, so I'll be brief."

Vassoy nods, Dromo does not. Both wear inquisitorial robes, and the Naga has a flamboyance in his gestures that is contrasted by the near total lack of movement in the Savanite. The cheetah does however, have the contained stillness of a held back attack, that adds an intimidating aspect. He is very aware of possible dangers that might exist for his master, who is enjoying the freedom of slithering around on the desk, and close to the Shiga.

"Please, fill me in. Dromo… take some notes." Vassoy hisses.

"Things like this might not be well-understood by Rephidimians, so I thought it might be best to come to you. During my time in the Empire, I was what might be termed a 'freelance repossesions agent'." Tugsley makes a few hand-gestures as he struggles and fails to think of a way to put it across that a non-naga official might understand. "Though private hirings of this sort would be frowned on by the Temple here, they're commonplace in the Empire. When something was wrongfully taken by another, rather than get tangled in official imperial processes, those with the means would hire someone like me to get the goods back by whatever means necessary. Perfectly valid and just, correct?"

"Of course, just a standard way of conducting business." The garter nods, flicking out his tongue, "anyone with anything important enough to protect, or improperly obtained, should be taking sufficient measures to eliminate such possibilities. If they aren't, then they simply were not interested enough in the item to retain it. I expect as well you were required to masquerade as a common thief if discovered, yess?"

Dromo takes a pen, and leans forward, to write a few notes on a clean sheet of paper.

Pines paces in front of Vassoy's desk, looking over the Inquisitor's office, and being sure to renew eye contact every so often. "Precisely, my friend. And in particular, Jingai were typically given less attention than their superior Nagai brethren, which made my jobs that much easier. When I arrived in Rephidim, my first instinct was to gravitate to places where information on such goods would be most readily available. Here, that was Darkside. It wasn't until quite some time later that I realized I wouldn't be employed the same way as I was in the Empire. However, it still allowed me to learn a few things, one of which might be very important to the Temple, blessed be. Unfortunately, the information comes with a price, one which I must ask in the hopes that it can counter the one now on my head."

Vassoy stops slithering and turns to face the Chameleon with a serious expression. "That is unfortunate, your association with Darkside will not be looked upon favorably. Rephidim hass not achieved the heights of enlightened self interest that the Nagai Empire has; except of course, in matters concerning the Temple. In that regard you're quite lucky, and I think you will find the Temple quite helpful in protecting its interessts. What is the price of this information?"

Dromo makes a few more notes, while continuing to watch Vassoy and 'Tugsley'.

The shiga stops his pacing, his back turned away. He remains quiet for a few seconds, then turns around again. "I must respectfully beg two gold pieces." Tugsley raises one paw by his head, casting his glance downward. "I realize that this might sound like a ridiculous sum… but I assure you that the information I have to offer will be worth it many, many times over. This is the amount of money I need to return to the Empire and obliterate my identity completely. No-one will follow me or remember me, and I'll be able to pay for a new life. Even if it's that of a lowly shiga." The reptile looks up again. "Naturally, I don't expect the Temple to part with two gold just on my good word. Therefore, I have a 'taste' to offer the Bridge Officer."

"Two gold is not a particularly large sum for something that would effect a bridge officer, in fact it's a little small." The garter hisses, leaning on his small staff, "a taste will be required for that generosity. I will have a better chance of arranging an appointment for you… and clearing up any other related difficulties, if you share some of it with me as well."

Tugsley's left eyeridge quirks just a smidge. (Small? Yow.) "Very well, Inquisitor. It involves expedition artifacts. A smuggling ring moving more of these strange things than your technopriests could catalog in a year. When I got wind of this, I investigated briefly, using what skills I have as a repossesions agent to discover an operations base, and a key figure in the ring. I was discovered snooping, however, and only just made it away. I can say no more, Rephidim is no longer safe for me."

The little Naga lets a quiet hiss escape, "Yes, that would be of interest to Nimiss. I can arrange a speedy meeting for you, it will take approximately an hour. In the meantime, can you produce your slave assistant? There are a few things I omitted asking him about during your previous visit." Vassoy leans forward with watchful curiosity as he makes this request.

"I… ah, suppose I could eventually bring him about, Inquisitor," replies Scotch. The reptile looks slightly caught off-guard, his expression quickly snaps back to its neutral look of concern. "Currently, I have him lying low as well, since I don't want him along with me on such a sensitive endeavor, and that he could be used against me if he were captured. I can bring him to you this evening, if that will suffice."

Vassoy frowns, "Well, while not ideal, that will be sufficient. Most Nagai would have disposed of that liability." He turns, and slithers up Dromo's arm, heading for the hodah-headpiece that the slave wears. Dromo for his part doesn't even blink during this, remaining still, and continuing his stare at the Chameleon. Vassoy settles, and gazes down from his perch. "I'm going to arrange the meeting, you may wait outside at the gate. I should mention now that everyone approaching important members of the Temple will be searched, nothing a concerned citizen should be worried about. I just tell you as it is a formality you may not expect."

"Dromo will collect you at the gate in about an hour. I will not be with him; do not reveal this fact. Most people in the Temple know me to be of few words, and your progress will be smooth if they think I am with you." Vassoy instructs, as he reaches out to pull closed one of the cloth doors on the mantel.

Pines dips his head, and clasps his paws behind his back. "Certainly. I appreciate you're going to this trouble. If all goes well, and I am returned home, perhaps I can make good on that promise to send a little of the Empire back for you."

Vassoy nods, as he closes the other door. Dromo escorts Bambridge out of the office, and they part ways, to their various tasks.

Fortunately the morning is well into mid-day, or else it would be annoyingly chill to Bambridge or rather, "Tugsley Pine", for Rephidim has been passing through some banks of stormclouds lately. Some long minutes slip by while the Shiga awaits the guards… An unusual feeling for the sometimes-thief.

At last Dromo comes out, still dressed in fancy robes and headgarb, and accompanied by a black Khatta guard who is dressed in a dark blue chitin suit of armor that looks close to black, relieved only by gold trim. He looks like one of the elite, and carries the weapons to prove it as well: a long fire-arm of some kind slung over his back as well as the sword one would expect. The guard looks around for the Shiga who is supposed to be meeting the Bridge Officer.

The shiga in question looks up from where he leans on a wall, and approaches the guard and Inquisitor, courteously bowing when at the proper range.

"You are Tugsley Pines?" the guard says brusquely. "Inner Temple Guard Kamada. Come along, and let's not keep the Inquisitor waiting." He jerks his head toward the Savanite, then waits for the 'concerned citizen' to fall in behind him.

Without a word, the shiga quickly falls into step, his head kept respectfully low, though he occasionally steals a glance at Dromo, and wishes the guard with him would go away.

They march through the passages of the Temple. At each checkpoint, and there are three fully staffed, solicitous secretaries and anxious-looking guards challenge the Khatta, the Savanite, and the Shiga. Each time, Kamada replies, "Inquisitor Vassoy and his guest to see Bridge Officer Nimiss," and they are cleared through. Dromo never bows or betrays any movements to confirm or deny the assertion.

Though 'Tugsley' tries to keep from looking overly nosey, it's difficult for Bambridge to keep from whipping his head this way and that to try to remember the endless corridors and doors that Temple holds. He tries to gather as much information as he can, markings and measurements of distances from hall to hall running through his reptilian brain.

They arrive in front of the receptionist at last, well within the upper reaches of the Temple – though initially the halls were filled with both Temple staff and citizens and contract employees, these corridors now are quiet and only occasionally passed by silent robed figures, heading on their discreet errands. The pretty young bat smiles up to the guard and his companions. "Here to see Bridge Officer Nimiss? You're right on time, Inquisitor." She makes a note.

Kamada says, "Just a minute, sir." He moves forward to pat down the shiga from head to heels for weapons.

While the shiga tolerates his search, he marks the reception area as the end of his mental map, fervently hoping he's gotten things right.

The guard appears almost disappointed to find nothing interesting. "Very well, sir." He cycles the airlock open and stands by the door, motioning for 'Inquisitor Vassoy' and the Shiga to go through.

Pines jumps slightly as the door opens. (What strange architecture. This place will take some getting used to.)

The bat turns about in his chair. "Ah. Inquisitor Vassoy, 'Tugsley Pines', do sit. Commander Kamada, you may go." He is a thin bat, utterly dark and with black eyes to boot; his robes are of a stern design but richly decorated in gold and silver, making it clear that he is an individual of very focused attention.

The black panther clacks his heels. "Yes, sir." He steps out of the hatch and cycles it shut behind him.

The shiga kneels briefly, and rises again. He takes a seat with a nod, hissing, "Thank you, Bridge Officer. I realize your time is limited, so I'll be as quick about this as possible."

Nimiss says, "Very good. But more importantly, be relevant," in a cold tone of voice. "I do not know what you told Inquisitor Vassoy to persuade him that this was a matter worthy of a Bridge Officer's attention, and one not in direct line of command to Inquestral matters as well. The artifact-smuggling business, while a serious one, would appear to be one more interesting to, say, Inquisitor Zeffel than to myself."

Dromo says nothing.

Bambridge's eyes twitch about beneath his hood. (Hmm, strange place… 30x60, space restraints tight with strange protrusions along the walls. Air ducts don't look viable to gain entry by… ) "He said you would be interested, Bridge Officer. The sheer number of artifacts flowing through this smuggling ring put it in a league far beyond that of any other. Priceless objects moving by the airship-load."

"Mm. Dromo… Do stand outside as well, would you?" The Bridge Officer motions to the Savanite, who stands carefully and without disturbing his hodah headgarb.

Once the Savanite is clearly unable to listen in, Nimiss continues, "Now then. Are you offering me a share of this trade in exchange for some consideration, which you have not yet named… Suggesting that you would be in a position to provide more such information in the future, possibly on more relevant subjects… Or are you merely seeking a quick cash infusion, and thus, selling out your, ah, associates?" The black bat narrows his eyes.

"Clearly," the bat points out. "Your intention here is not to perform your duty as a concerned citizen of Rephidim, and point out wrong-doing, or you would have simply told Inquisitor Vassoy and left the matter at that. I can only sense an ulterior motive."

The shiga sniffs, and waves one paw. "They're no associates of mine, the greedy, back-stabbing vermites. I didn't glean this information from a position of trust, not by a long shot. It's a bitter taste to be cast aside once it's thought one's usefulness is at an end. The fools tossed me aside with a few scraps, threatening my life should I not be 'happy with my lot'. I can look happy with my lot, while still being of use to you, and perhaps thickening my slice of the Rughrat steak while I'm at it."

"Mm. And what precisely do you expect me to do with this information, Mr. Pines, that could be worth my time and the undoubtedly deserved fee owing you?" inquires Nimiss. He raises an eyebrow.

"Well, there are many ways information can get out, particularly in an operation of this magnitude," replies Tugsley, arching his fingers. (Hmmm… thick glass on the window slit… might not be cuttable. Desk appears to be antique, no traps or locks discernible from here… ) "Thusly, if you were to discover this operation, and wish to be cut into it, it certainly couldn't be traced back to me. All I'd want are a few little pieces of what I was originally due… and really, is that so wrong to ask for?"

Bridge Officer Nimiss steeples his fingers. "So you're suggesting that I, an officer of the Rephidim Temple, condone smuggling of artifacts which would be of great importance to the Temple and which will, instead, be sold off to collectors more interested in enriching their living rooms than knowledge, in exchange for a cut of the profit, Mr. Pines?"

The shiga lays his paws down on the arms of his rickety chair. "I prefer to think of it as 'sharing in the legacy of the Temple'."

"Perhaps you misunderstand me," the bat says. "I am uninterested in wealth. What concerns me more is information. Information of a trivial nature, such as the names of a few wrongdoers, is as passing as a ceramic tenth-shekel. Information such as the locations of large amounts of artifacts which can be studied by the Temple, and which may thus reveal many clues to the nature of the First Ones, or our ancestors who came aboard the Expedition so long ago… " He swivels his chair soundlessly to look out the window upon the vista of Rephidim, though none can say what star-lit city he envisions instead. "Ah, now that might indeed be interesting. Do you think your information can lead me to that, Mr. Pines?"

"If that's what you desire, then I believe I can provide it, Bridge Officer," replies Tugsley, propping his head up on one paw. "We come from different worlds, so I suppose I think in terms of what will sustain me to the next day. What I most want to see are those selfish cretins that cast me away sweat, as they so richly deserve. If I can make a little extra from it, then so much the better, but the primary concern comes first. Those artifacts obviously have a source. A source I'm sure you can tap into."

The chair turns partway, so that the Shiga can see one dark eye glance his way. "Do go on, Mr. Pines… "

"I shall… but if you would please, I would ask a few considerations," hisses the chameleon lowering his hood to glance at the floor. "I can continue to be of use to you, but any source must be cultivated. I would like to be assured of my safety, and as such, I'd like to be removed from any records you keep, and generally left alone." Pines looks up again. "I can sustain myself, but not when I'm badgered constantly. As proof of my good intentions, I will present to you the names of several cargo-ships that bear artifacts, so you know that what I have to offer is solid."

"You ask a great deal," Bridge Officer Nimiss says quietly. "I cannot be certain of the value of your information until at least one find has been confirmed."

Tugsley's muzzle dips once, slowly. "That is why I'll ask nothing of you now. Once you investigate those ships, you can decide for yourself whether this venue is worth pursuing. I firmly believe you will. I'll know when you decide to check up on my claim, and when you do, I'll return to get your decision. All I ask is that, should you refuse, I can leave undisturbed. Everything returns to the way it was, same as before, except that the Temple is a few artifact boatloads richer."

The black bat nods. "Very well. I shall have all Temple records related to you found and brought to my office for verification. Should special customs inspection of these vessels you name indeed 'strike metal', as the term goes, they will be burned. If not… " Nimiss turns his chair to fully face the Shiga, leaving him to imagine the consequences.

"So then, Mr. Pines. What names are you particularly interested in deleting?" inquires the Bridge Officer.

The reptile rubs his chin thoughtfully. "The one you're referring to me by now should do nicely. That, and being left to my own devices, should suffice. No more questioning, prodding, or poking. I just want to be left alone. When I inevitably come to you again with more information, it would facilitate things if I were merely allowed to come and go without the paperwork. I don't think you have anything to lose by ignoring me, because I don't think I can really pose a threat anyway."

This elicits a laugh from the Bridge Officer. "Dear Tugsley, everyone who moves within the Inner Temple has paperwork attached to them. However, if it will make you happier, I will give you a drop box. Should you wish to see me, dispatch a letter to me and I will return a time at which you are to appear before the Temple to be escorted in by a guard. I will warn you in advance, I do not deal lightly with wasting of my time, however." The bat raises an eyebrow. "You can write, I hope, Mr. Pines."

"Of course, Bridge Officer," replies the shiga. "I'll be sure that anything I have to bring you will be well worth your time."

"Perhaps in our future dealings, I'll be able to earn a few little extra perks," adds Tugsley, with a final scan of the office for any details he might have missed.

Nimiss nods. "Very well, then. Here is paper and a pen. Write for me all the details concerning these ships, and other information that may help ensure that this artifact-smuggling business is stopped." He slides open a well-oiled drawer and draws from it a blank sheet of parchment and a fresh quill, pre-cut, then drops these onto an unoccupied corner of the desk for the 'concerned citizen' to use.

Pines places his paws on the desk with a thump. With a dip of the quill, the chicken-scratching begins…

Nimiss begins reading other papers while the Shiga works.

"Targettable Airships: I would recommend going fairly easy on these if you wish the operation to continue, and hopefully lead you back to artifact site sources. Great pains have been taken to keep them from being traceable, so they won't lead you to the operation itself."

"The Calico Khattamaran – Registry number #3101-a – Owner: Capt. Samuel Mazbrin"

"Melon Collie Gallee – Registry number #4463-a – Owner: Capt. Grissle Jowler"

"The Cloudcleaver – Registry number #1566-b Owner: Capt. Vessitra Cotraen"

The shiga's notes end with a slight spatter of ink. He places the quill back in its inkwell, and sits back once more.

"Ah. Very good then. As earnest, then… " Nimiss takes the parchment and sprinkles some fine sand upon it to speed the process of drying, then produces two gold coins and sets them upon the desk. "Should your information lead us to the discovery of artifacts, Mr. Pines, there will be two more like these waiting for you in the dropbox. Is there anything else you wish to discuss now?"

Tugsley accepts his payment with a respectful bow, making the coins disappear on his person. "That is all. I'm sure you wish to get back to other pressing matters," he hisses, getting to his feet once more.

The black bat nods. "Very well then. The Temple will stand in your debt if your information proves correct, Mr. Pines. Commander Kamada will show you out. The Inquisitor undoubtedly has found more pressing business." He chuckles dryly.

The reptile lets his cloak fall around him, nodding. (Solid wood construction in that desk. At least two inches thick. Ceiling is high, might have catwalks in it.) He turns, and takes his leave, his business complete, his mind buzzing with measurements and speculations, and his heart finally calming down from yet another V.I.P. close-encounter. (I need a vacation.)