Northern Yarcu

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Before Dr. Ander's could open his mouth, they felt the motion of the train start to rapidly slow.

"Ah. We seemed to have reached our desination, gentleman," he smiled at the Jedi, glad at the excuse not to answer. ".. welcome to Northern Yarcu." Regaining his authoritative air, the doctor contradicted his polite words with the command: "Stay inside while I procure what we will need."

++ I think not. ++
Qui-Gon stopped him with a firm hand as he positioned himself between Pohl and the only exit. "We will be accompanying you. You will pardon me, Director, if I prefer to keep you within my sight."

Pohl looked with annoyance at the big Jedi master. "Your presence is naught necessary and could even be detrimental. This town is nothing like the civilized environment of the city, offworlder. It's run by the Unakens---who tend to look with suspicion on anyone not their own."

"Imagine that, unfriendly Anarans" Obi-Wan quiped, earning himself a glare from the scientist. He 'innocently' smiled back.

Seeing that he was not going to get anywhere with these two, Dr. Anders decided to enlist some assistance from his friend. "In comparison to the Higher Houses, the Unaken can lean towards the barbaric," Pohl gestured towards the silent Hunter. "Even Matek will agree with that assessment."

Not leaving his position as a living door barricade, Qui-Gon threw the Hunter a questioning look.

Matek grunted as if the conflict between Tanaken and Jedi meant nothing to him. Still, the large hands stopped their work as he locked serious, ochre-hued eyes with Master Jinn's blue. "The farmers are superstitious. If the crop is going badly this Turn--- or even if an inordinate number of the animals are not looking up to standard, they will blame any abnormality---be it Ruenam wanderers or ousted Jedi masquerading as Unaken." He rose to his feet, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "However, they are afraid of my sect, so they probably will not look *too* closely at you too----and as Director, the Hunters will obey me. Come if you wish, Jedi, but stay close---and do not let the Kievet leave your presence for even a moment. If anyone challenges you, then tell them that Matek Aka-Unaken has taken guardianship over you and yours." He brushed past the quietly fuming Pohl to exit through the doorway; Qui-Gon letting him pass.

[[ Master? ]] Obi-Wan sent, not certain what the elder Jedi would decide.

++ If there is trouble, I'd prefer we were not trapped in this metal box, Padawan. But remember to keep your hood up and the others by your side. ++

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Northern Yarcu, a holding of Unaka House, was situated a mere day's ride from the black, volcanic mountain range that dominated the surrounding landscape. Nicknamed by the locals: "The Fence", it was the main barrier between the high plateau that gradually sloped to the sea, and the maze of valleys and mountains that hid behind it. Originally the name had implied that the coal-dark mountains were protection from the bitter cold environment of the alpine lands beyond; however, with the forging of a pass through The Fence, that had all changed. The Fence and the mountain's hazards and discomforts were merely obstacles from exploiting the region's supply of exotic wildlife and rich ores. Indeed, a lucrative fur and mineral trade had been started by the Tanakens and Hunters, at the instigation of Pohl and Matek: dual 'founders' of the range's breachable pass. It had taken Tanaken Engineers many Turns to make "The Gate" amendable to wagons as well as quad riders, but once it was finished, that House was owed a regular tithe by all the Hunters who used it. The Hunters, in turn, charged the various Science teams for their services as guides and protectors, while the Qwanatens happily saw a rise in the Trade Tax that they controlled. Of course, being located practically at the doorstep of The Gate, the Unakens of Northern Yarcu also benefited greatly as the main supplier of food, quads, and camping gear.

The town itself was a hodgepodge of long, living-quarter domiciles and squared storage barns, most of which appeared to have been hastily erected fairly recently. Obi-Wan noted that the place at least appeared to be clean, with women and children doing odd jobs while the men worked in the fields or mended equipment. Most of the people stopped to watch them disembark from the cars; the majority of whom just muttered something under their breath and kept on working, deferentially moving aside as a sun-tanned man loped towards the newcomers.

The Unaken Farm Head was in a fluster as he greeted his unexpected guests at the train stop. Calloused fingers brushed self-consciously at his dirt stained coveralls, while apologizing for not having had time to prepare for their visit.

"What is it my lord Director requires of us?" he asked subserviantly of Pohl.

"I am heading an expedition into the mountains, Turvin. We will require the necessary food and equipment for a short stay. Director Matek will go over the particulars with your Hunter clan."

"Of course," Farmer Turvin fawned. "Shall the bill be created to Tanaken, or your personal credit?"

"Mine. This is a vacation trip only---and embezzling is a crime, is it naught?"

The Unaken's face darkened at the offhand remark. It would be generations before the Yarcu regained its lost honor over *that* incident---regardless of how prosperous current circumstances made them. He gestured at the different farm buildings to cover his embarrassment. "Please feel free to inspect whatever you wish, Director. I will see that na one hinders you, your companions or...property." He curiously eyed the cloaked 'Hunters' and the two Kievet giving special attention to 'Ayar's' unique fur coloring. Unlike the Ruenam that had stolen K' Ishti from his capturers, the Farmer Head had seen enough Kievet hauled through the pass to recognize that this was no female---regardless of the brown hue and size. He reached out to touch silken strands----until he noticed the both Tanaken's and Unakens' disapproving scowls. Turvin smoothly retracted his arm and attempted to deflect retribution for his indescretion by humbly addressing Pohl: "Would my lord like to pick out a garb for his Kievet? Trade has been brisk and supply slow, but I believe we still have some of that kinds things in stock. I'm afraid there is not much call for mountain gear in such small sizes, so we have nothing else for Hunter your pet. The other, though..."---he risked taking another appraising look at Nick, who couldn't help but let out a light growl at the man's calculating gaze.---the man had the look of a livestock purchaser, and Nick was fast getting tired of it---"...aye, it's big enough to fit in a young child's thermal. Perhaps a mix and match ensemble could be devised for it---Director Aka wouldna want his rather unique pet to catch the trembles, I'm sure."

"Dona worry about it, Turvin," Matek told him sharply. "In fact, dona even think about this one---understood?" he added, voice dripping with cool menace.

Turvin quickly backed away from Nick, hands held in front of his chest in a silent cry for mercy. He had not meant to push the famed Hunter so far! "My apologies, Director. It is merely that I have not yet seen a male with such a co--" he paled even further as the Hunter lifted thinned lips to reveal teeth bared in warning. "Perhaps I should see to your other needs?"

Nodding curtly in dismissal, Pohl took a quick look around the grounds, then motioned the Jedi to follow him towards the storage barns, sending Matek off to talk with his own people, whose living domicles and quad stables were kept separate from those of the farmers. Although of the same House, the two Unaken sects were as different as night and day and did not particularly care to socialize more than necessary. Nethertheless, they stayed close enough together for mutual benefit: the structured Farmers providing food, with the rambunctious Hunters supplying security from animal and Ruenam attacks.

Northern Yarcu was, Qui-Gon decided as they escaped into the relative privacy of a wooden structure, much noisier than he had expected. And bigger; prospering no doubt, from its close proximity to the only pass through the mountains. When he had visited Anara years ago, the town had been barely a dot on the map, reknowned not only for being the most far flung of the agricultural communes, but also for having its one-time leaders implicated in a plot to embezzle grain from the Qwanaten----a crime that had gotten the culprits executed by firing squad. He recalled Aven's story of the events of that time---(the Farmer Head had been the botanist's biological father and guardian before the man's execution by decree of the Inquisitors.):

During a severe period of drought, both the Farming and Hunter Heads for Northern Yarcu had conspired to lessen their tithe to the Higher Houses by making it appear that Ruenam raiders were stealing from their storehouses. In fact, the Ruenam *were* taking some grain---but with the approval of the Heads. In turn, the Ruenam had promised not to raid the Yarcu for the next five Turns. At least, that was the story that came out during the Qwanaten Inquisition. They might well have gotten away with it too---if they had not augmented their tales of hardships by claiming that rodents were also making dents into the food supply---and sending the Tanaken Science House some hairs as proof. Unknown to them, however, was that the hairs were not of any species catalogued by the zoologists---a discovery that caught the attention of the Science Director's son: one Doctor of Zoology, Pohl Anders-Tanaken. To the conspirators' chagrin, the well-known and highly-placed scientist had made a rare excursion from his labs in the city in order to investigate this new species. Only it wasn't a newly discovered species that he and the Tanaken-worshipping boy had---temporarily---captured; it was a member of a very old one. One so wrapped in government-ordained silence that the general populace had for generations considered them to be nothing more than myth.

Looking distastefully at the small pile of black and white pelts kept separately from larger piles of deer skins and variously patterned furs, Jinn wondered what circumstances had caused that lone Kievet to leave the safety of his mountain refuge. Had he been forced---or merely curious? Whatever the reason, it seemed Kyer's species had paid the price for their loss of 'mythical' status. Perhaps Pohl's thugs had been unable to find Kyer because the unfortunate Kievet had already been judged and dealt with by his own kind? He glanced at the tense K'tlyan clinging to his Padawan's leggings and doubted that last scenario. The Force signature it gave off was one of gentleness, and he got the strong impression that that was a characteristic of the Singers as a whole and not just this one.

"Here we are."

Obi-Wan held out his hands to snag the soft bundles that were being tossed in his direction before they hit his face. "Here is what?" he asked, as the K'tlyan hastily, yet reverently begain choosing certain items, then putting them on. He handed larger pieces to Nick, who was still staring at the black and white pelts with a look of horror.

"Suitable clothing for Kievet males," Pohl chuckled. " 'Paw-made' by their Etwan, if you will. They rather object to wearing anything else---only nudity is considered more abhorant. Though how they can consider themselves naked with that much natural fur on them is beyond my higher-level logic. At any rate, that, and certain silly ideas about dead presences or some such, make it easier in the long run to just let them wear their own things." His expression took on a dreamy cast. "Do you know, I could get K'tay to wear all manner of leathers without an inordinate amount of cohersion. But you should have seen the fit it--" He grinned amiably at Qui-Gon's disapproving look. "oh, very well---*he* threw when Aven tried to decorate his hair with a feather ornament. Said something about it not having been freely offered to him by the *bird*! When I reminded him that the bearskin covering his feet had not been 'freely given', he muttered something about 'ties' and then shut ri--.''

"You skinned them..."

Startled by the sudden declaration, the Tanaken and two Jedi looked over at Nick, who was still standing frozen, his arms laden with clothing the K'tlyan had laid there. K' Ishti clicked at him soothingly, gently blowing across Nick's face to attract his attention away from what was so disturbing to both.

The Doctor blinked at him. "Of course they skinned them---these are valuable pelts. Na need to get upset."

"No?" Qui-Gon asked, barely able to keep the acid from his tone.

"They only skinned them after a death." Pohl argued, plainly seeing nothing wrong with the neat stack being there. "Do you think a Hunter would settle for less than full Trade value if he could help it? Those Singer's must not of survived the trip here--or perhaps they died from the capture itself. So they'll sell the pelts and artifacts at a loss. Not as good a Trade, but better than none at all."

"Oh, God." Nick breathed, recalling the horrors he had seen during the time of Nazi Germany. As supplies had gotten scarcer as the war raged on, the Germans had started manufacturing leather goods using the skins of the Holocaust victims. He remembered walking by Aryan ladies holding purses that reeked of the abomination done to their fellow mortals. Using such things was nothing new to the human race,---the ancient Inkans, for one, had made ceremonial drums from the hides of their fallen enemies who had been the most valorous in battle---, to his knowledge, never before had the victims been considered *less* than human---or their murderers 'civilized'. Well...no. Some of the American 'Injun' killers had proudly worn scalps on their persons as well. Amazing how *flexible* the phrase 'civilized behavior' could be to its own interpretors. LaCroix would probably have found the whole situation rather boring---or turned it into another monologue on the follies of humanity. Nick just felt sick to his stomach.

Here was history repeating itself on another world, another planet, far from his own.

Kenobi felt the saddeness emanating from the K'tlyan as he hesitantly wrapped Nicholas in a hug, murmering softly to him. Obi-Wan swallowed hard, trying to imagine how he would feel if on some future mission he stumbled across a fellow Jedi whose remains had been treated in so callous a manner. He doubted he would accept the evidence with the same equanimity as the little Kievet---especially if the remains were of someone he personally knew---like Bant or Yoda, or... No. No, he didn't want to even imagine it.

"K'tly e nyaf, Kwi e'b Ayar, Kwi e Les, K'eti" "Naya e; Ya e. Ava Tlya'f? Was Sha'g? K'yavanti sa en Unayarek K'tlysa Sa tly'g Hrrr..aye, e Hrrr..." (Spirit Song is neverending, One Who Was Ayar---Now One Who Is Three, Young Spirit. Bad happens; Good happens. Is the World Song ending? Is Life becoming Silence? Creation warns of Destruction---the Messenger will the warning sing. Hmmm.. yes, so, hmm..)

"That's enough!" Pohl rebuked them. "K'tlyan en Flah---weshavna'g Ayar!"

K' Ishti ignored him, sensing the New One's need for comfort---he was slipping back into the shock the violent spirit had gone into. If he did, the Angry One might return to control Ayar's body. And all-in-all, he preferred to deal with the Sad One. Grief he understood; anger was harder to comprehend and work to calm. If only a K'tlyan't was near to help this being become whole again. Or, better yet, a full Council of the Elders and Eldests. But such could only be found in a handful of places---assuming those places still protected the People. Mountains were weakening more and more as the Song unravelled. And as the Mountains lost their power of protection, the Song became more vulnerable to Silence. It was a vicious cycle that showed no signs of abating. Perhaps the Warning of Ending was preparing to be sung soon. Perhaps its opening tones were already sounded. Time would tell.

"Master, *must* we take this *person* with us?" Obi-Wan said loud enough to be sure Dr. Anders heard him. "I have seen Jawas with better manners." He fingered the hilt of his lightsaber, as if inviting the Tanaken to attack and give him reason to pull forth the weapon. Not that he would ever use it unnecessarily. But surely it wouldn't hurt if it made the *scientist* think twice before disturbing his companions.

Qui-Gon's brows furrowed as he waved off his padawan. "He *is* the only interpreter with the necessary credentials to get us to the Kievet, Padawan." Jinn said distractedly, eyes on the Kievet. "I believe our bespeckled friend voiced the name: K'tlysa...

Obi-Wan nodded. He had heard it as well. "Maybe our *interpreter* wouldn't mind interpreting for us?"

Pohl growled something unintelligible.

"What was that?"

"Donah expect sense from an animal."

"I'm not; you've yet to make any sense to me," Obi-Wan returned gleefully.

"Padawan, perhaps you should see to your charges? We have a long journey ahead of us."

Kenobi bowed his head in contrition---for upsetting his teacher, *not* for tweaking the egotistical bureaucrat. "Yes, Master." He crouched down to join the Kievet in soothing the shivering Nicholas while Pohl took down one of a couple dozen flasks, unstopped it, and took an appreciative swig.

"Aahh....the fruit crop *was* exceptionally good last year." He offered the wineskin to Qui-Gon who politely refused. "Nah? You donah know what you are missing, Jedi. However, since that simply means there is more for me..." he took another swig, smacking his lips in pleasure. Making a sweeping move with one arm, he gestured at the interior of the barn. "Do you know that it was in this very place that I first laid my eyes on a Kievet?"

"This barn?" Jinn repeated, neither encouraging nor discouraging the man to continue.

Pohl's eyes got a far away look. "Aye, Jedi---right here. Or, rather, over there." He casually indicated a spot close to a large, vat. "Almost had it...right there---I and my young 'assistant'. He was so excited about the discovery. "Pohl chuckled, remembering. "Poor Aven....I'm afraid that, for my part, I was more interested in finding some strange rodent and sampling the wines. At least, at first..."

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End of Episode2 Part 10

"K'tlyan en Fla---weshavna'g Ayar!" = "Flahvian Singer---get away from Ayer!'