As the sun rises, shimmering lights dance across the monastery, as a multitude of crystal-work designs on the walls facing the east catch the light one after the other, and cast it about in colored fragments that dance across the courtyard. Monks shuffle about in small groups, tending to morning errands, while the youngest of the cheetah acolytes run the whole way.

Daybreak finds Willow on the front steps of the dormitory where her family has been housed for their stay on the world of Zion – capitol to the empire of the Silent-Ones, and far, far away from Sinai, though it would not be hard to imagine it to be some land back on Sinai – save for the high-tech machinery, that is.

Several cheetahs in two-toned robes – each one a different color combination, with the face hidden in a veiled cowl – converge upon the steps, led by a cheetah in robes of white and midnight blue. There are eleven of them, the whole of those still in the running to replace the Archon, save that Ice-Platinum is not visible, while Smoke-Viridian (one of the "replacements") can be seen lurking toward the rear of the group. Ice-Platinum and the eleven other "replacements" must be elsewhere in the compound.

Midnight-White comes to a stop before the steps, clasps her hands together and bows to Willow, then frees her hands to sign, "Good morning, Lady Willow Dack. Please forgive our intrusion, but there have been rumors spread about you, and we wish to set the record straight."

The Skreek chews on a straw of herbs tightly bound in a leaf and stuck together with honey. "I'm not surprised that a rumor or two has popped up about me, considering how strange this whole ordeal must be to you." She leans against one of the supports and tries to see who all is in the gathering.

Thanks to the wonders of color-coding, it doesn't take long to figure out who's there. Midnight-White is there, of course, up in the front, followed by Violet-Copper, Seafoam-Turquoise, Crimson-Teal, Hazel-Blue, Emerald-Goldenrod, Cobalt-Black, Steel-Magenta, Royal-Bronze … and, in the back, Ebony-Yellow and Smoke-Viridian.

Willow brushes her hair out of her face. "Alright then, what has been floating around about me?"

Midnight-White starts, "The allegation is that you are… "

Seafoam-Turquoise reaches out, placing a hand on Midnight-White's hands, and bows to her apologetically, then he signs in turn, "Is it true that during an argument with your husband, he brought up your past as a pirate, a slave-owner, and that you had been thrown out of a city of the People?"

"Do I look like any of those things to you? It sounds like someone is rather eager to find something slanderous about me." The Skreek bites off the tip of her straw and swallows it. "So who among you thinks that these allegations are true?"

Willow's eyes lock onto Ebony-Yellow, studying her closely.

There is a pause, and only two hands raise at first – those of Violet-Copper and Ebony-Yellow, then a third – Steel-Magenta. A fourth hand raises – Smoke-Viridian's. There is much looking around, and though facial expressions can't be read, there are more than a few tail twitches and ear flicks of surprise.

The Skreek nods her head. "And what if I told you that these allegations were complete and utter fabrications? That they were lies I crafted as part of a test to see who would fall to the trap of gossip? Which of you believe these allegations are false?"

Emerald-Goldenrod and Crimson-Teal promptly put their hands up. Hazel-Blue hesitantly raises his. Smoke-Viridian turns away, shuffling a foot and massaging his temples as if he's suddenly acquired a headache.

"I see. And the rest of you are waiting until you learn more, or don't want to get caught on either side of this particular test." Willow twirls the herb stick between her fingers. Her expression grows distant and somber. "Thetruth of the matter is yes, I was a pirate, a slave-owner, and I was kicked out of the City of Hands by their ruler. I fled piracy fifteen years ago and I hate and regret that part of my life and have done all I can to atone for it. My slaves were set free when I converted to the Star five years ago, and my former slaves are now my dearest friends, and I was expelled from the City of Hands because I was very brash and tactless at expressing my concerns about an issue that is the business only of me and her." She places the straw back between her lips. "Is there anything else?"

Midnight-White bows. "Thank you for settling the matter, Lady Willow Dack." She starts off, stepping aside as Scribe Tree-Rings comes up at a brisk pace toward the steps.

Smoke-Viridian just sort of casually slinks off, putting the crowd between himself and Willow, as if his departure might go unnoticed this way.

"Royal-Bronze, please meet me in my office in an hour. I wish to discuss something with you." Willow nods to Midnight-White and then turns to meet Tree-Rings.

The group breaks up. Tree-Rings takes Willow aside, facing a wall, so that his signs will not be easily seen, and he signs, "You should know – there has been an emergency. The Archon has been rushed to a medical facility. He is in stable condition, but he will be under close observation. Until he is able to return to continue oversight of the contest, I will be acting in a capacity to see that you are provided with whatever assistance you need."

The Skreek's ears droop. "Oh dear. I hope he's not in too bad of shape." She bites her lip and nods. "I'm not sure about assistance for today. Right now all I've planned are some interviews and some sparring should I get tired of talking. You might want to listen to what the talk is, now that I've let the news slip about my past. And I might need to get your opinions on a few things later." She signs. "I'll have you summoned if I need you. For now, just acquaint yourself with things and listen."

Tree-Rings nods. "The nature of the Archon's position is such that his movement from the sanctuary had to be handled with all discreteness. No one is to know of this incident. The Archon is greatly advanced in age, and even our best medicine cannot prevent the inevitable."

"I understand," the Skreek signs, not wanting her words to carry too far. "I believe that I will need another two or three weeks for my plans to finish. Can that be managed?"

The scribe nods. "Certainly."

Willow grasps Tree-Rings hands and kisses them and then releases them again to free her own for signing. "You are a good and loyal servant. I will pray for you both. Is there anything else I should know of?"

Scribe Tree-Rings signs, "For now, that is all. Not enough time has passed to get a clear idea of just how the Archon is faring."

"I'd best prepare for my meetings then. I shall continue my reports to you at the end of the day." The Skreek bows and then heads back towards her quarters to wash up and change into more formal clothing.

A cheetah in robes of royal blue and bronze stands at attention, in front of the bench.

Fidgeting with her shirt, the Skreek tries to settle herself into a chair that appears to be a couple of sizes too large for her scrawny frame. "Please be seated, Royal-Bronze. Before we begin, I want you to know that I appreciate and respect honesty above all else, despite what my tasks lead one to believe otherwise. I would rather receive a cutting opinion from you and have it be an honest one instead of listening to a flattering lie. Is that understood?"

Royal-Bronze nods, and seats himself on the bench.

"My first question is this: would you prefer me to sign rather than speak? I understand that speaking amongst the People can be considered rude in many circles, but I can speak faster than I can sign, so it tends to be more of a convenience for me. At the same time though, I do not wish to do something that might be considered rude to you unless I know that you are alright with it." The Skreek folds her hands across the top of the desk, awaiting to see what she'll be doing with them.

Royal-Bronze signs, "For purpose of style, I prefer the elegance of hand-signs over the sounds of the tongue, but for convenience, I recognize the utility of speech. I will not be offended if you choose to speak. Use whichever method is most convenient for you."

Willow nods approvingly. "Spoken very well. You have shown very impressive skills as a leader over the last few weeks. I am curious to know more about you because of that. For example, now that you know the truth about my past, what is your opinion of it and of me?"

Royal-Bronze signs, "I know nothing of the culture you came from, or whether you represent the norm of your people, but many great prophets and teachers have arisen from sordid pasts, all the way back to the times of the Holy Book. The Archon has chosen you as his judge, and I know enough to realize what an honor that is – one I admit to envy."

"You might not feel that way if you knew how difficult it is to come up with all of these tasks," the Skreek chuckles. "One thing I have noticed is that your leadership style is much like a general, although you've obviously had experience elsewhere as well. It wouldn't surprise me if you were responsible for a peace treaty or two. But that leads me to ask you this: why do you wish to become the next Archon?"

Royal-Bronze signs, "You asked for truth, so I will give it. My primary reason to seek position as the next Archon is so that there will not be a new Archon that I would not wish to serve under. Although I trust the wisdom of the Archon, I am the sort who wishes to be involved in my own fate. That signed, I am confident that I have the best interests of the People at heart, and the varied skills required for such a demanding position."

Willow raises an eyebrow, her ears canting forward at the signs. "I know you cannot tell me specifics about your past lest you ruin the whole reason for the disguise, but are you a soldier of your people?"

Royal-Bronze signs, "I have served as a soldier, though my present role is relatively free from combat action. I suppose I could sign that I am more involved in policing duties than war."

"Did something negative occur that made you decide that you wished to be master of your own fate?" The Skreek coughs into her hand. "If I ask you a question that you do not wish to answer, simply tell me so."

Royal-Bronze signs, "Negative? That is difficult to form into sign. I have served under others, and I have had command over others. I feel more confident when I have the freedom to make decisions and to implement them. I have not always had success handed to me, but I am diligent about learning from my mistakes, and not giving up despite momentary setbacks."

"And what type of leader will you be? Is there anything that you wish to do or wish to keep others from doing?" She rests her chin against her fists.

Royal-Bronze signs, "I wish to strengthen the position of the Archon as not only the political but the spiritual leader of the Silent-Ones. There have been too many heresies allowed to go unchecked. My rule would bring conflict to the People, but I believe that I still represent the majority, the traditionalists, and that ultimately stability would result."

"I am unfamiliar with the People but not of the Star. What sort of heresies?" Willow tilts one ear to the side to punctuate her question.

Royal-Bronze signs, "There are many such things. The decay of the sanctity of marriage. The pollution of the youth by alien societies. A growing lack of respect for authority. Proclamations of false deities and false prophets. The holding of apocryphal texts to have equal authority to the Holy Books."

"Many things, I agree. Where would you start and what would you do to stop the heresies?" Willow shifts in her seat, her expression a neutral mask. ( He sounds passionate, but it could be a show, or he could be misguided. The Archon hasn't thought to bring his fist down on these heresies after all. )

Royal-Bronze signs, "I would issue more strongly worded condemnations of existing heresies. It is widely feared that such action would prompt conflicts, and I would make certain to be prepared for any such challenges to the authority of the position of the Archon, with a focus on keeping damage to civilians to a minimum. Military involvement would almost certainly be required, as some of the worst of the heretics have ascended to positions of power in the member worlds – even Zion itself. Against those who claim to represent the Star as prophets and religious leaders, and spread blasphemies and heresies, I would give no quarter. We are not a democracy."

"As we are being honest, I will say that I am tempted to ask you what your intentions are towards my world, but I do not wish for that to influence my decision. Picking a leader for the sole purpose of having my planet left in peace and leave your worlds in ruin is not my intention." The Skreek plucks at her lip. "So instead I pose my final question … if you knew that I was not going to pick you as the next Archon, is there anyone else that you would recommend?"

Royal-Bronze considers this, then at last signs, "I would prefer not to make a recommendation without knowing the identities of the other candidates – presuming that you are limiting my choices to the candidates, that is. But if I were required to make a choice, I would pick Seafoam-Turquoise. If Midnight-White were not a woman, I would almost be inclined to consider her, but I believe in tradition, and the oldest traditions hold that the Archon should be a man."

"Why Seafoam-Turquoise? He shows good leadership skills but seems somewhat reserved and quiet." The Skreek flicks an ear.

Royal-Bronze nods. "Process of elimination. I could not choose Rust-Brown, Coal-Red, Midnight-White, Ebony-Yellow, Sienna-Silver or Sky-Grey out of hand. Mauve-Puce, Gunmetal-Purple, Smoke-Viridian, Amber-Maroon and Ivory-Indigo are too weak. Vermilion-Pink is hardly a man at all. Earth-Jet, Crimson-Teal and Hazel-Blue are too much men of the earth, not the city and the stars. Emerald-Goldenrod and Rose-Green are soldiers, not leaders. Ice-Platinum loves technology too much. Gold-Tan loves blood too much. Violet-Copper and Steel-Magenta are too young. That would leave Seafoam-Turquoise … and myself."

"Thank you for your time, Royal-Bronze. I wish you luck in the tests to come." She rises from her chair and extends a hand. "I believe we're done here now."

Royal-Bronze rises, and shakes the hand, bowing. He leaves … and, after a moment's delay, Ebony-Yellow is ushered in next, and then left alone in the chamber with Willow.

Ebony-Yellow stands in the same place Royal-Bronze occupied at first, at attention, though not with quite the same military bearing that Royal-Bronze had.

"Please sit down," Willow says, gesturing to the bench. "We have many things to discuss."

Ebony-Yellow bows her head, then takes a seat on the bench.

The Skreek rubs her cheek, looking tired and somewhat pained. "I have been considering you for the role of Archon ever since the incident where you took time after your duties to play with my daughter. But I have my concerns." She takes in a breath and lets it his noisily out through her nostrils. "Why were you with the group today who wished to ask me about my past?"

Ebony-Yellow signs, "I felt that I might be required to contribute to the discussion."

"You did not contribute when the allegation was originally brought up by Vermilion-Pink, beyond silencing him, although there was work to be done and I cannot fault you too much for that action. But yet you felt the allegations were true for some reason. Why is it that you saw them as true but did not sign any further about them to anyone else?" Willow tilts her head to the side.

Ebony-Yellow hesitates, then signs, "I do not know how to answer that clearly, and keep within the boundaries of this contest as I understand it."

Willow sighs again and leans back into the seat, sinking down. "It is too late for that. When I was asked to observe all of you, I observed far too much of you for you to conceal your identity." She shakes her head. "You fit only three people I know, one of whom is in Rephidim and would not have avoided me as you have, and the other is dead. I bring this up because I do not wish to lie to you and pretend that I do not know what I know. This will not affect my judgement in the contest towards you or anyone else, but I am surprised to see you here." Her tone softens. "And I'm so sorry for upsetting you. I should have been less of a hammer or a claw to you."

Ebony-Yellow nods. "I suspected as much, but it is not my place to compromise the secrecy you have required for this test. And do not apologize for upsetting me. It hardly compares to how much the Archon upset me. I can hardly put it into sign."

"I did not wish for Vermilion-Pink to go unchallenged – not because any of the allegations were untrue, but because they were incomplete, and because he has been nothing but a trouble-maker the whole time. I could not give a testimony without revealing too much about myself. I trusted that if this was brought to you, you would handle it much as you did. But I wanted to see for certain," signs the cheetah.

"What did the Archon do? I was wondering why you were here – I didn't think that Sinai was part enough of the People's lands to be a place to draw a candidate from." The Skreek winces, picking up a thread that she has apparently missed.

"If it was not, it was going to become such," signs Ebony-Yellow. "Maybe the Archon did not seriously consider me a candidate at all. If I do not succeed in this contest, I will have learned far more about the universe than I otherwise could have. I was shown an 'angel'. And I met the 'Star'. He did not recognize me." She reaches a hand under her veil. "Pardon me," she signs with her off hand, while she wipes at her eyes.

Willow hops from her seat and kneels in front of the cheetah. "I'm sorry for your pain. I shouldn't have been so harsh and I should have tried to be more of your friend than your lecturer. Whether you feel that it's necessary or not, will you forgive me?"

"You have my forgiveness, many times over, but it is I who would ask forgiveness in turn," the cheetah signs. "I almost brought such a disaster to Sinai. And I am still not quite sure how I will begin undoing the damage I've done, when I go back."

"We'll fix it. The Star will light a way." Willow squeezes Ebony-Yellow's hand and then walks back to the desk. "Do you want to hear my critique of your progress so far or would you rather skip it?" She smiles and wipes at her own eye.

Ebony-Yellow signs, "I … am somewhat reluctant to hear it, but if this is something you have ready, I may as well hear it now. Otherwise, eventually I will wonder, and I will regret not finding out when I had the chance."

The Skreek chuckles. "My only complaint has been your lack of speaking up in certain situations. Before I knew who you were, you seemed to be a very kind person but you didn't seem to act aggressively in instances where I felt you needed to speak up. You seemed unsure, but I'm sure that most of that can be attributed to shell-shock of finding yourself here."

Ebony-Yellow nods. "I have been spending a great deal of my time here learning. I must confess that I would have much more learning to do if I were to be in a position of authority over the People abroad. There are so many worlds, and I gather that some of the other candidates rule over entire planets. I had thought that my time as a slave would have taught me all the humility I required, but I have been taught more lessons yet."

"I may need your help at the end of it all if we are tostop the false Star from coming to Sinai. I have a plan forming in my mind, but I need to think on it further." The Skreek sinks back into her chair. "I cannot ask you which of the candidates you feel is false, but I can ask you this: who among them do you feel would make a good leader?"

Ebony-Yellow signs, "I admire Midnight-White. She is not perfect, but I respect her, and after this contest, I think I should like to have an opportunity to get to know her better. I respect Royal-Bronze, but he is almost a specist – He covers this with broad claims that every species should think itself to be the best, but I do not think he would ultimately foster good relations with other species. Seafoam-Turquoise is competent, but he is not very diplomatic. I am not even certain he wants to win this contest. Violet-Copper … I admire him, but I am reluctant to recommend him. I would trust him, but I am not certain that he is any more experienced than I am."

"Why do you think he doesn't want to win?" Willow pulls another herb stick from her pocket and starts to chew on the tip.

Ebony-Yellow drums her fingers on her chin, then signs, "I cannot put it into sign entirely. It is perhaps a 'hunch'. Or perhaps it is not that he does not desire to win, but rather that he is ambivalent. I believe that if he were the Archon, he would do an excellent job … but he would do it because he was supposed to, not because he wanted to. Maybe that's a good thing, but something about it unnerves me. I wish I knew more about him – about all these people. I do hope I don't get shuttled back to Sinai before I have a chance to find out more about these people. Some of them, I think of as my friends now … and I don't even know their names!"

"I think the Archon planned this whole thing out between you and I, but I can't quite pin it on him. I think I need to speak to Seafoam-Turquoise next." The gunmetal colored rat takes the stuck and waggles it like a cigarette. "I think we're done here, and it's getting late in the day. Could you send for him for me?"

Ebony-Yellow bows. "Certainly. And … thank you." She goes for the door.

Another cheetah stands in Willow's meeting room, this one inrobes of sea-foam green and turquoise – hues that almost blend together due to a chance selection of similar colors to make his "color code". He stands at attention like the others, though with a more military bearing that is reminiscent of Royal-Bronze.

"Please sit. I'll crick my neck if I have to look up at you." Willow smiles and munches down the last section of her herb stick. "If you won't find it rude, I would like to talk instead of sign. Is that alright with you?"

Seafoam-Turquoise sits, and nods.

"Early on, you astounded me with your skills as a leader, both in your creativity and in your honesty. I would like to know what your opinion was of the exchange this morning about my past. Has it changed your opinion of me at all, or your opinion of my world?" Willow scoots forward slightly in her chair, trying to make it look as though she might fit in it just a little bit.

"You don't strike me as a pampered sort, nor squeaky clean," signs the cheetah. "No, it does not affect my opinion."

"Are either of those types unappealing to you in some way?" The rat raises an eyebrow. "And what is your current opinion of me? And be honest, I'm sure I've heard far worse than anyone here could conjure up."

"I think you like to be provocative. You like to get reactions out of people. You like people who make noise. Not someone who sits quietly by the sidelines, or who doesn't react. As for pampering or cleanliness … I have no particular disregard for either, but my world – so to speak – is far from glamorous. I lack the pomp and circumstance, the glory and fanfare that are celebrated back here on Zion," the cheetah signs. "I, in fact, was rather surprised that someone of your 'colorful' character would be chosen to preside over a contest such as this … but no more surprised than to find out that I was considered a candidate."

"You do not speak … er … sign as much as the others, but I'm starting to gather that you are a remarkable observer. During the survival test, you recognized that one of your partners had something to contribute and you insisted that they be given a chance to speak, is this correct?" The Skreek tries to hide a grin.

Seafoam-Turquoise signs, "I am not certain what you are referring to. I was teamed up with Hazel-Blue – a capable woodsman – and Vermilion-Pink – anything but capable. I am inclined to think that the only reason Vermilion-Pink remains is to goad us."

"Gah … there's so many of you that I get confused." Willow rubs her head. "May I ask what your opinion is of Royal-Bronze?"

Seafoam-Turquoise signs, "Definitely a seaman, probably a starship captain at some point as well, probably from one of the core worlds. Traditional, hard-nose, no-nonsense. If he becomes leader, heads will roll. Most of them will deserve it."

"And Violet-Copper? What are your opinions of him?" She pulls a pair of herb sticks from her pocket and offers the cheetah one. "These were a homemade remedy to cure me of my smoking habit. They taste a little bitter but have some healthy herbs rolled in. I came up with these then I was pr-… er … Never mind."

Seafoam-Turquoise shakes his head. "Thank you, but I shall decline. Of Violet-Copper … he is a good man. I sense we may have something in common. He is not pampered, and he may have a checkered past, but I would trust a man like him. I would guess he is in his twenties, maybe mid-thirties at most. He's learned, but I don't take him for a monk. Single, never had a family, but still looking. Not a good thing in the leader of an empire. Could make him vulnerable."

Willow blinks, somewhat stunned at this rather detailed assessment. "And what do you think of Steel-Magenta?"

Seafoam-Turquoise rests his chin on one hand for a moment, then frees both hands again. "Confident, almost cocky. Fearless, and not because he thinks he can out-fight or out-argue anyone. He can't, and I think he knows it. But he has the attitude of someone who has something on his side, something special. I don't like him. He's smart, and capable, but I think he's been trying not to do too well in this contest. Like he's trying to stay in the middle. Don't hate him, don't think he's incompetent, but don't pay much attention to him, either. He signs many things, but in the end, little is to be learned from him."

The Skreek rolls the straw between her fingers. "Why do you think he is deliberately trying to stay in the middle of things?"

Seafoam-Turquoise signs, "I don't know. That is why I don't like him. I don't like what I can't figure out."

"I spend a lot of time figuring people out," Seafoam-Turquoise explains. "It is what has kept me and my people alive."

"What are your opinions of the Archon?" The Skreek's brows knit together in thought.

"Complicated," signs Seafoam-Turquoise. "He is shrewd in his own way, he's far more read than I am, and a whole lot more holy. But I think he's trusted too much in his advisors. For the most part, I think he's a good judge of character, but I think he spent a lot of his reign putting the material prosperity of the empire over a lot of less tangible concerns. Now we've got a crackpot running about saying he's the Star. Not too long ago, he'd have been shot or hacked down on the spot for saying something like that. Now, people actually listen to him. This is bad. And as much as I respect the Archon, I'd have respected him a lot more if he'd have brought down the hammer, popularity be d – ah, pardon my language."

"If you were elected to become the next Archon, what would you do to remedy this problem?" The rat rests her chin on her fists once again.

"Squash the 'Star'," signs Seafoam-Turquoise. "I'm not a saber-rattler, I'm not a war-monger, and I don't get my jollies out of dressing up and playing war, but there's a way that things are done with the People. The Archon isn't just a king or president or emperor – he's the religious and military leader. I realize that a more 'civilized' approach would be to come up with a grand scheme to discredit the so-called 'Star', and try to reason with the people … but it has gotten past the point for reason. You can use all the logic in the universe and it won't convince someone whose heart is set wrong."

"And when his followers seek to discredit you for killing a messiah? Not that I feel you're right or wrong, but I'm curious as to how you'd deal with the aftermath." Willow wrinkles her nose.

Seafoam-Turquoise nods. "It could get ugly. I wouldn't just rush in, cannons firing. I'd need to make plans. He could have a double get hit, then pop out and they could claim he's risen from the dead. I'd want to make it look like I was only weakly committing myself to the battle, let him get cocky and overconfident and start preaching victory to the 'faithful' … then let loose and crush him. Heavily."

"We would still have wounds that may never heal in my lifetime," Seafoam-Turquoise signs, "and it may seem that I'll just make things worse. I might even go down cursed in history as the fool Archon who crushed a great prophet or some such nonsense. But it's got to be done. He's got some sort of power over the people. I've seen his signs. He's not that eloquent. But it's as if, there in his presence, he has some sort of power over you."

"I know you do not truly desire the position of Archon, but you have a knack for understanding people that is truly amazing. But if you were to recommend someone besides yourself among the candidates, who would it be?" Willow unconsciously starts to rock back and forth in the chair.

Seafoam-Turquoise signs, "I suppose I've given you my opinions on others, but not really cut to the chase of it. If I had my first choice, I'd want to find some rejuvenating alien technology that would turn the present Archon into a young man again, take the chair for myself for just long enough to slap this false 'Star' around, then give it back to him. It's his mess; he deserves to live another lifetime to try to fix it up. But short of that… " He pauses to consider.

Seafoam-Turquoise snaps his fingers. "I've got it. Marry off Ebony-Yellow and Violet-Copper to each other. I've seen them together. I'll bet you they wouldn't admit it, but they like each other. Stick them together, and we take care of that 'single and looking' problem I mentioned. Stick Violet-Copper on the throne to satisfy the traditionalists, and he's young enough to be willing to charge in and deal with this 'Star' business, but he's got enough grit that I know he's not some young gung-ho fool anxious to charge off in polished power armor with banners waving from his nacelles… "

Seafoam-Turquoise looks at his hands a moment, then signs, "I can't believe that was one sentence. Now then… "

Willow squashes her face against a hand. "Don't make this more complicated for this poor old rat than it already is."

The cheetah continues, "That Ebony-Yellow is from some backwater planet – really backwater – but you don't need to be… " He stops. "All right. But you asked me what I'd recommend. Not what would actually happen."

"I had the feeling after observing you that I could trust your counsel. If you notice anything else, please bring it to my attention. I think I've run out of questions, unless there's something else you'd like to add." The Skreek rubs her chin again.

"I suppose I could give you a more useful answer," the cheetah signs. "I wish I could recommend Royal-Bronze, but he needs to cool off a bit. In all seriousness, of all this group, if I couldn't be the choice, I'd want either Ebony-Yellow, Violet-Copper or Midnight-White. I'd find faults with them all, but at least they're faults that could be fixed."

"This is the second endorsement for Midnight-White that I'd heard. Why do you recommend her? In all honesty, with so many people to consider and not consider, I was just about to drop her out of the running." The Skreek sits up again.

"I think it was that business with the rumor that made her go up several points with me," signs Seafoam-Turquoise. "I was about to write her off myself, but I really respect someone who is willing to just get to the bottom of something like that."

"Besides, she's interesting. All these substitutes you've been sneaking in are either dull or annoying," Seafoam-Turquoise signs.

Willow nods. "I saw her eagerness for 'gossip' a little too unnerving. Why did you interrupt her signs when she came to me? Did you think she was going to present her thoughts in a tactless manner?"

"No, I was trying to trap you,' Seafoam-Turquoise signs.

"Trap me into what?" Despite her dark tone, a smirk plays across the Skreek's lips.

Seafoam-Turquoise shrugs. "Vermillion-Pink didn't seem all that solid on his story. I can't really imagine you having an argument with your husband and shouting, 'Oh yes? Well I am an ex-pirate and an ex-slave-owner and I even got thrown out of a city of the People, so there!'"

"I had an impulse to phrase the question to suggest that your husband had said these things, and to see if you'd agree to it," signs Seafoam-Turquoise, "even though Vermilion-Pink had told us that you'd said these things."

"I really should have worked with him on that beforehand." She laughs and shakes her head. "My goal was to see which of you would assume that because someone like Vermilion said it that it was instantly false, who would see it as a setup, and who would leap on it as ammunition against me. Those stories, although wild, are the truth. They simply are not the entire truth."

"Might have worked better if you'd split us up into smaller groups, or leaked the rumor to us individually. With us together in big groups like that, the first emotional reaction from someone in the group would set the tone of the rest of the group's reaction," signs Seafoam-Turquoise. "Unless, of course, one of us had an agenda to stick to."

"I'm learning, and I'm still awfully new at this." The Skreek holds up her hands. "I will consider Midnight-White a bit more strongly than I did before, because of your words. And I may come to you for counsel in the future. If you see anything that you think I need to notice, will you point it out to me?"

"As you wish," signs Seafoam-Turquoise.

The Skreek rises again and extends her hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Seafoam-Turquoise. I hope that when this is all over, whatever the outcome, that you and I can be friends."

Seafoam-Turquoise rises, and shakes the hand, then signs, "Certainly. Just as long as whomever you pick doesn't tear the empire apart."

"I can't say who all is on my 'to consider' list, but I think we both have faith in the same people. I'll try to give the best recommendation to the Archon that I can." She seats herself again. "Good night, Seafoam-Turquoise. At the very least, when this is all over I can start referring to you by your real name."

Seafoam-Turquoise salutes Willow, then departs, leaving the Skreek alone in the chamber, which is quiet save for the pattering of the rain and the rumbling of distant thunder.

Willow sinks down in the desk chair and rests her chin against the wood of the desk. "More and more complex, and more and more clear." She smiles. "Thank you, Star, for giving me another chance with her, though. Whatever your plan is, I'll do my best to follow it."