Tanaken Complex, New Anar City, New Anar Island

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Nearing the Administrative Offices, Qui-Gon felt a disturbance in the Force to his right. He came to an abrupt halt, creating a Jedi Master sized block in the passageway that his apprentice managed to sidestep in time. (Obi-Wan was, fortunately, a quick learner!) The Jedi stared at the spot where a blue engulfed Ayar could barely be made out, dark eyes full of worry.

Their guide, noticing that they had both stopped behind him, turned around. "What is it?"

"Ayar!" the off-worlders replied at once.

Aven looked around the hallway and saw no one save themselves. Certaintly nothing where the two Jedi were staring so intently. He mentally shrugged. Aliens were strange by default, and though he liked Qui-Gon, he really didn't know all that much about the Jedi. Crossing his arms, the Anaran consigned himself to wait as patiently as he could until they decided to become...less strange. He had a feeling it was going to be a long wait.

The blue image flickered for a moment and went out almost as fast as it had come, but not before it gave the the two Jedi a universal hand signal: Hurry!

++ Nick is in trouble. ++ Qui-Gon sent to his padawan, lightsaber already out and ignited. His stern features fell on the botanist. "Time is of the essence----which door is Pohl's office?"

Aven pointed down further. "Next hall to the right, down 12 doors---you can't miss it!" He had to shout the last, as the Jedi were already running down the corridor. "Aliens..." Aven muttered to himself. Hesitating only for a moment, he took off after them.

-------------------------o-----------------------------

The Vampire snarled its outrage as the office door was slammed opened and an invisible force snatched it up and hurled it away from its victim. It wanted to leap up and fight the two cloaked beings that had moved protectively over the 'Pohl', but it sensed that these two were extremely powerful and could damage its flesh with those odd blue and green lanterns they held like swords. Whether they would damage him *permanently* as the Enforcers could, it didn't know. Nor was it certain how its host body would heal with even slight wounds. The Vampire might be animalistic in its desires, but it wasn't stupid. Better to wait until it had more knowledge of itself and its surroundings. So, it reigned in most of its anger to watch them warily, sharp eyes never leaving the Jedi or their odd weapons.

Obi-Wan swallowed. After having finally accepted de Brabant as a friend, it was somewhat unsettling to find himself face to face with the 'monster' he had first seen on Harka VI, missing only the elongated canines. Ayar didn't *have* canines, he reminded himself. Did he? An open-mouthed roar answered his question. No canines, but there was a slight trace of blood on the teeth. He tightened his stance.

A quick glance down at the prone scientist was enough for Qui-Gon to see that Pohl was uninjured save for a bite on his arm and some shallow scratches. He centered his attention on the crouched form of the attacker, careful to keep his lightsaber held directly in front of Nicholas. Or what he *hoped* was still the Nicholas de Brabant whom he and his padawan had befriended..

"Director Anders, may I suggest that you depart here slowly, but with due haste? Your presence, I think, is only compounding this situation in an adverse way, " he coolly advised the Tanaken.

"Rot! I will *not* be ordered out of my own office--- certainly not by a tresspassing alien, self-styled mystic, and thief!" Pohl bit off, hauling himself to his feet, noticing a breathless Aven appear at the open doorway, but ignoring him in favor of staring belligerantly at the Jedi Master. "Ayar is mine--- you can't trick him away from me again!" A growl of rage drowned him out. 'Ayar' was glaring at him with crimson eyes and a look that said "kill". Pohl frowned, lowering his voice by several decibals. "Furthermore, you alien resh scum have done something detrimental to my property and I demand to know what."

Aven, who had blanched a bit at the sight of his superior and the transformed kievet, looked imploringly at the former before Qui-Gon could offer a retort. "Father. I don't think *now* is the time to address property issues. Let me take you to Med so Arva can take a look at those wounds. Let Master Jinn handle this now, we can discuss rights later."

"There is nothing *to* discuss. Ayar was made by me and therefore it is mine." Pohl declared loudly. He reached for his desk phone. "Meanwhile, in case you have forgotten, Aven, these...*beings* are criminals that I shall take no small delight in seeing handed ov--"

"NICK---DON'T!"

Qui-Gon tore his attention away from the Tanakens just in time to see his temporary charge go crashing thru one of the windows. Rushing forward, Obi-Wan leaned half way through the portal---mindful of the broken shards of glass--- in order to look out. Nick was already off and running with Force-enhanced speed down the street in the rapidly fading light. Night was falling, and thankfully, there were few Anaran's still out and about. Unfortunately, those few had been attracted to the sound of breaking glass and were staring at him in surprise. Hoping fervently that his disquise was holding up, Obi-Wan offered them a cheeky smile before hastily retreating back inside, doubting the general populace outside the building would lose any suspicions if faced with his fractured attempts at their language.

The Tanaken Director, he noted, was turning an interesting shade of burnt ochre.

"Now see what you've done!"

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth. "Director, what immediate danger is there for... Ayar alone in public?"

"That rather depends on what kind of person manages to capture him first!" Pohl seethed. "Most will honor Matek's icon, but someone of high enough rank or little concern for placating Hunter may try to claim him as their own property!"

"Someone like *you*?" Obi-Wan snorted in derision.

Pohl glared at him. "That is different. Matek is currently under hire by me."

"So that makes it okay to steal from him?"

"Padawan! Director!"

They turned at the Jedi Master's sharp interjections.

"This is not helping the situation any," Qui-Gon reminded them. "Obi-Wan, go after Ayar. We'll meet up with you later."

"We?"

"Director Pohl and myself have some private business to catch up on."

Obi-Wan gave his master a quick bow of obesiance, shot Pohl a warning look that threatened dire consequences if anything happened to his teacher, then leapt out into the now deserted street. Pulling his hood down low, he ran off in the direction he had last seen the kievet disappear.

---------------------o------------------------

[ Outer northeast limit of New Anar City ]

Nicholas de Brabant, Vampire was feeling more and more like the 'lost soul' his Other had often bemoaned being. When he had crashed through the window, he had fully expecting to have the leap followed up with a quick soar into the sky. Instead, he had crashed like a stone. Only instinct and quick reflexes saved him from injury, but the aches and bruises were showing no signs of immediate healing. He was not liking this situation at all! Everything seemed to going rapidly from bad to worse, and he felt an overwelming urge to find some safe place to think things out now that his survival instincts had toned down enough that he *could* think.

"I am the son of Lucien LaCroix; brother to Janette duCharme," the vampire muttered to himself as if reciting a mantra, never stopping his blurred rush through the nearly deserted cobblestone streets of the city. "I am powerful with no cause to fear. No fear." Closing his eyes tightly, de Brabant slowed to mortal speed while he fought against the rising panic in his heart. He was Vampire; yet he didn't *feel* wholly like a vampire, couldn't *feel* others of the Community anywhere nearby. Flight was no more. His fangs were gone. And, yet, he still could move in the blink of an eye. Things were just *not* making sense. If only he wasn't so *alone*. Damn! At this point, even the presence of the Other would be welcomed for company even though it was very likely that this situation was directly caused by that fool. The vampire growled at the alien night sky in frustration. For once he actually *wanted* the presence of 'Nick' in their mind, but the darned personality quirk was keeping himself separate! He could have at least shared the knowledge he had gleaned of their situation to his better self. Selfish bastard! Keeping Nicholas down and ignorant. Too ashamed to admit the Vampire was better. Stunting his true nature just like he stunted their true name! 'Nick'. What sort of name was that? Well----he didn't *need* any mortal loving weakling to help him adjust to this adversity! He didn't need anybody!

So consumed was the vampire by his anger, that it didn't even notice the clandestine pair standing in a dark alcove until it had almost passed them by. Ducking into a similar space where he could watch while remaining hidden himself, Nicholas strained his ears and was pleased to discover that he still had the quality of sight and hearing that he was accustomed to. He could make out even the more furtive whispers. It didn't occur to him to question why he could understand most of their grunting language after listening to them for only several seconds, even though it was no tongue he recognized from his past. This was a language the host body knew, if somewhat haltingly.

One of the figures looked and smelled like the 'Pohl', but was wearing fancier clothing: more gold braid and metal buttons over swatches of velvet. He was gesturing imperiously at a smaller man in plain, rough, clothing that seemed ready for the refuse pile. Nicholas crinkled his sensitive nose.... past ready, in fact!

"I ..... the rest of it."
"So will the Tanakens."
"Filthy Ruenam! Do naught try to ..... with *me*. My lord has named his .... and you accepted it. Do naught think to .... him in mid ...........! The beggar-like figure stepped back a pace to avoid a particularly sweeping gesture of his fellow Anaran, thus revealing a third figure that was sitting curled tightly against one wall, completely naked except for a it's body coat of black and white fur, heavily spotted down at least the side that the vampire could see. One arm was slung around its bowed head, 'hand' covering its right shoulder; the other was grasping a taunt strap of leather that led from its neck area to the filthy man's wrist. The sense of fear and despair it was giving off reeked as strong as its companion's onerous body odor.

"We .... for a complete set." The taller being rumbled. "Where are the ........ and the Reket? Or shall I call the Inquisitors?" He smiled cruelly at the frightened 'Ruenam'. "Give it some thought, Wras. I will allow you the...... while I enjoy a meal to come to your senses. Do *naught* disappoint me." The aristocratic nose lifted disdainfully. "And *do* try to wash up first. You smell like a forgotten old carcass some Rapar failed to bury properly."

Nicholas considered them all as the impeccably dressed alien rapidly walked away; curious as to what was going on, but restless with the sense that he was being hunted by one of those from the strange room. He had no time to dawdle at some mortal affair that didn't affect him. Not at all.

Except... somehow, it did.

The Vampire felt a distinct dislike for the two larger beings. They felt annoying. Yes---that was it. They were annoying him with their gestures and wheedling and rancid body smells---both of them!. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that their captive had raised his head and was staring at him with a mixture of surprise, hope and... recognition? No, nothing at all to do with those intense, emerald eyes. Nothing at all to do with an alien memory of equally powerful dark amythest ones, moist with the tears of impending loss... musical sounds trying to bring comfort that would not come...

Nicholas shook himself to clear the unsettling image. The sudden action was noticed by the nervous Ruenam whose eyes widened at the sight of a large, brownish version of its captive, clothed in Hunter's garb.

"Weeel... what have we here?" The yellowed lips parted in a leering smile to reveal half rotted teeth, making the vampire clench his own to control his nausea at the sight of such rampant neglect.

Wras was pleased. Here was another Kievet that he could steal for a profit. This one wore a tag, but that did not worry Wras since he would help the kievet 'lose' its tag. If it didn't have a collar and tag, Wras could hardly be blamed for not returning it to its owner, now could he? Maybe he could even sell it to the hunters that he had so slyly lifted the male from. Heh--- Hunter Clan thought they were so smart and wily? Wras had taken their prize right out from under their noses just by judiciously lighting a few fires! The whole bags worth too---not just the main animal attraction. Gotten a quad out of the bargain as well. Just a pack one, not a hunting quad, which would have been an impossible aquisition anyway---hunting quads were fiercely loyal to their owners.

"My... you're a big one." Appraising look. "Must be a female, though I never heard tale of one having the spots before. Lost your master, did you? Come here and let nice Wras comfort you..." The Ruenam's face took on a cunning look. "Or if you prefer..." a dirty hand reached back and dragged the captive forward. It whined piteously as its arm was forced away from blocking Nick's view of its shoulder, revealing a patch of longer fur on the right side. Thick, yellowish fingers ruffled the patch, ignoring the owner's whimpers of distress. 'Wras' leered at the newcomer. "Pretty one, isna he? You want to taste, heh?" The fingers lifted to present themselves for Nick's approval. A sweet-smelling, dark honey-like substance coated the tips.

The vampire licked his lips. The aroma coming from the furred alien *was* enticing. Fear and humiliation scents intermingled with Spiced honey and forest pine; and another, more elusive background scent that spoke of security and comfort. Something inside Nicholas knew that the honeyed liquid would taste even better than the bread had, that it was an energy source his aquired body was designed to assimilate readily and fully more than any other food. Something that would help ensure his survival. Oh, yes, he would taste---and more than taste...

A sharp click from his would-be prey startled him. It was followed by a quick treble bark. "AyYAR--- AN!"

{{ Guard? }}

Comprehension came almost an instant too late, as Nicholas dropped and rolled to avoid the stunning blow aimed at his head, arms instinctively moving into a protective blocking position. But instead of the anticipated impact of a weapon, a strong power surged from his palms, knocking his attacker back several yards into the street, along with its leashed captive. Nicholas didn't take the time to mull over what had happened, he growled fiercely at the Ruenam, springing to his feet to attack.

How *dare* this noxious creature try to trick him! He'd flay the flesh from its skeleton---probably the only clean portion of the cretin's body! A sixth sense stopped him. He had almost forgotten the one who was hunting him---he could smell it far off---the one who could call a rod of blue light from its hand. He had no wish to meet that one---it was too powerful for him to fight with now. Better to keep away from it even if it meant letting this disgusting tormentor go with nothing more than a warning not to mess with him again.

The furry one, however...

Still tied to to the Ruenam's wrist by the leash, and feeling more than a bit bruised from being yanked about, the kievet took one look at the approaching vampire and promptly fainted away.

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Obi-Wan methodically checked every side street for signs that his troubled friend had taken those ways. He was not far behind now---he could sense it. A dozen thoughts tried to derail his attempts to center himself in calmness. What was worrying was what he would find when he *did* catch up with the awol quasi padawan. Would he find Nick? Or the Vampire? If the Vampire, would it know how to use the Force against him? If so, it would probably use the Dark Side. Obi-Wan had never met a rogue Jedi before, let alone fought one. Could he win in such a contest? He was fairly confident of his own swordsmanship and tactical thinking. But Nick had shown he was no slouch in either department himself. How intelligent was the Vampire personae compared with Nick's?

Rounding a corner he nearly bumped into the most besmirched Anaran he had yet to see: A hunched male sporting numerous scratch marks on his face and a dirty piece of cloth,apparently ripped from one sleeve, acting as a gag. Around his neck was a collar that barely encompassed his neck, with the leash end used to tightly bind his arms behind his back. His legs were bound by another collar and leash----this one bearing Matek's tag.

Obviously, this guy had royally ticked off the object of Kenobi's search.

Noticing that the Anaran's face was starting to turn off-color, Obi-Wan carefully unlatched the collar and removed the gag.

"That resh animal took MY KNIFE!!" Ochre eyes glanced around frantically. "FAARGH! And MY KIEVET!! OF ALL...!!"

The Padawan considered gagging him again just to stop the steady stream of Anaran epithets.

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End of Episode Two: Part 6