Note to Reader: Parts 11 are all flashbacks to well before the coming of Nick and the Jedi to Anara. If you are reading this soley for those characters, feel free to skip these interludes and go directly to Part 12.--kyer

Northern Yarcu [ 42 Anaran Years previous ]

__________________________________________________________________

The five-year old sucked in his breath seeking to keep his yelps of pain inside. Sweat dripped from his forehead plastering his blonde hair onto the yellowish skin that held contrast only because it was well tanned from the sun. It wouldnah do for Sarvin to hear him protest. That would only make the blows harder.

A firm hand released the grip it had taken on the scruff of his neck while the belt had done its work. Its owner, a large man as yellowish-toned as the boy and clad in sturdy farmer's clothing, grunted with satisfaction as he replaced his disciplinary tool of choice back onto his trousers. Stern eyes of ochre hue locked onto the child's own.

"Next time I find out you've been dealin' in madders na your concern, boy, and you wonah have na backside to sit on at all! By the Till!" He thundered. "This has got to stop now! The Tanakens wonah stand for it and I donah blame them. Like havin' some filthy, thieving Ruenam trying to harvest our crops." A weathered finger thumped onto a patch he wore over one breast then did the same to an identical patch on the boy's coveralls. "What are we?" He demanded.

"Unaka." the boy responded like a rebuked student.

"And what does that mean?"

The boy bowed his head and contemplated his boots before answering in a dejected voice.

"That I should be proudly farming the soil for my House. But--- !"

"Aven!"

Sarvin, Director of the North Mountain Yarcu and father of the seeming in grate before him, growled disapprovingly at his wayward offspring. Aven shut his mouth. This was not the first time he had gotten into trouble for acting out of House limits. The less he said, the sooner this would be over. His father's next words, however, were totally unexpected.

"Perhaps, since you seem to find your family's entrustment so boring, I should talk to Traven about apprenticing you into his Sect. You certaintly wouldnah have time for your foolishness then."

Aven winced and bit his lip. Traven was Director of the Unaka House's only other Sect, the sect of Hunters. Both Farmer and Hunter belonged to Unaka House and even lived together in the 'Yarcus' or communual farmlands. Other than that they were radically different. While farmers cared only for the raising of crops and stayed on the Yarcus, the Hunters often went out into the wilderness on long hunting trips. They wore all-leather garments which they fashioned themselves from their own kills. Hunters were crude and even harsher than the strict Sarvin. They respected none of the Farmers--- not even the Director. The only reason they stayed alongside their brother House members was because the farmers were the only obtainable source of new recruits they were allowed to 'adopt' from other than the Ruenam---and not even Hunters cared to associate with *that* House. The only reason the Farmers allowed them in the Yarcu was because they protected everyone from predators like the feline Rapar and the occassional Ruenam drifter turned Raider. Like everyone else, Aven avoided them as much as possible. Though he did envy them their intermittant associations with the Tanaken House Scientists: the Highers sometimes commissioned a hunter or two to do scouting or trapping for them while on their research expeditions in the foothills.

Sarvin gave his son a last whack with the back of his hand winning an unguarded yelp from his offspring.

"Git yourself over to the barn and feed the goats --- stand around like a lazy dope when there's work to do?!"

Aven high-tailed it over to the the livestock barn and went inside, closing the door in relief. At least that was over with, though his buttocks would be reminding him of the beating for a few days yet. The worst part had been watching Sarvin smash his science things before his very eyes. Aven had found the few pieces of equipment left behind by an absentminded Tanaken. He hadnah seen any harm in borrowing the things until the man came back to claim them. The magnifying glass had been especially fascinating. With it he could see parts of plants that no one else in the Yarcu had seen before. But then Sarvin had caught him using the things. He knew he shouldnah have touched them; should have let them be. He was only Unaka after all. Hardly smart enough to do true science things. Or so the House teacher said.

Going to a food bin, Aven filled a bucket full of second-grade grain and went out to feed the goats that were penned in beside the barn. He hesitated for a moment as the animal's surged forward at the sight of the food. Animals made him nervous. He had always preferred the quiet serenity of caring for the plants. *They* didn't try to butt or nip at the one who tended them.

He was just tipping out the last of the grain when he suddenly got an uncomfortable feeling. Turning around he saw a muscular, severe looking man in Hunter garb silently watching him. Aven swallowed hard as the figure dismounted from his brown quad and slowly walked around the paralyzed youth, intently studying his features, clothing, stance. He recognized the man as Traven. There was only one reason why the Hunter Director would be taking such an intense interest in a Farmer boy.

"Looks a bit of a runt, eh, Mask?" Traven directed the question at his mount which tossed its head sending the full mane momentarily into the air. "A stupid look on his face too."

"I do na!" Aven's eyes bugged out as he realized what he had just done. Traven knelt down on one knee so that he was more at Aven's face level. A knife seemed to appear as if by magic in his gloved hand, its point nicking the top of the frightened boy's nose.

"You contradicting my words, dirt whelp?" A grin spread on his face as Aven trembled speechless before him. "Well, you've got enough brains to know when to be scared. Ever rode a quad?"

"N-na." Aven managed to stammer out.

"Truthful enough. Dirt diggers arenah worthy to ride something so smart. But your young enough that I can fix that. You'll have to earn your quad though. Browns don''t tolerate incompetence. You'll have to gain their respect just like you'll have to earn mine."

The thought of riding *any* quad made Aven's stomach lurch but he dared not say so. His mind snatched onto an excuse.

"I'm afraid I'm too sore to sit down on anything, sir." There, that was probably not lying either.

"Is that so?"

Without warning, the hunter used his empty hand to shove Aven backwards towards his quad. The blow was angled just right to send the boy pivoting to the right as well. The quad bit into his hair and raised its neck just enough to force Aven to stand on tip toe, his back to Traven. Before Aven could even scream at the agony in his scalp, he felt the indignity of having his trousers fall unbidden to his ankles. Traven's amused chuckle made his face burn with anger and embarrassment.

"Aye . . . I agree with your assessment of your sitting problem. Na matter," Aven felt the pressure on his head release. He hurriedly bent down and pulled up his pants as Traven fingered his knife thoughtfully. "I said you werenah ready for a quad riding lesson. You are ready to take care of Mask, though. I want him cleaned and fed for tonight."

"B-but I have to do chores before tonight! Sarvin will-"

"That egotistical dirt bag that plowed your mother will find someone else to mudscramble for him. He asked me to consider your sorry self for Hunter material and I have graciously agreed to allow your soily carcass into my Sect. Understood, apprentice? Marvelous. Now get your beaten butt in gallop and feed and clean Mask. Those floppin Farmer wimps are having their precious grain raided and we have been requested to nail the culprit's thieving fingers to his tongue. Hopefully this Ruenam Rustbrain will give the qwads more sport than the last one. Coward fainted dead away before Mask could even get a good nip in. Where's the fun in that? If they're going to steal they should at least give the qwads some excercise and us some entertainment."

Aven shuddered as he warily led the brown equine to the livestock barn. The creature snorted disdainfully at him when he offered it the feed grain. Nervously, he took it over to the Storage barn and emerged with several bags of premium grains which were kept for beer making. While it ate nearly a half-bucket full, he brushed its burnt umber coat.

Aven had nothing against the Ruenam. He thought their situation was rather sad in fact. Once the ruling House of Anar they had fallen from that pedestal during a bloody Cival War. The winning House, Qwanaten, and their allies, the Tanaken had sentenced the Ruenam to near inescapable poverty by seizing practically everything but the clothes on their backs. Property was everything to the Anarans. Without property you were nothing. They became a House in name only taking on jobs that nobody else really wanted or just drifting from one place to another. The irony of it was that the legendary founder of New Anar had himself been a Ruenam and the colony itself mostly Ruenam land. But that had been hundreds of years ago. Back when magical creatures were everywhere. Aven loved to listen to the old tales of such wonders. Sarvin, of course, thought such 'children's stories' were trash.

Sarvin. It had never occured to Aven that his father would *really* give him to the Hunters. Sure, he had been ticked lately what with the drought and the poor crop and now, apparently, someone nipping into their food supply with the Tithe coming due. But to give him to Traven!

He jerked back as Mask tried to nip his fingers. Ungrateful beast. They were all ungrateful.

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

High on a rooftop the animal waited until the yellow ones were all out of sight before it scrambled down to the ground and ran over to sniff at the discarded bucket. Finding nothing there, it crept over to a building window where some pastries were cooling off and helped itself to three of them, leaving a fist-sized seed pod in its place. It stared at the pilfered loaves for a moment before putting two back, tearing a chunk off the third and putting the remainder of that one back as well. Still the expression on its face was troubled, and it seemed about to return even more of the bread when it sensed some of the yellow creatures heading its way. Stuffing the bread chunk into its clothing, it scrambled up a shadowed corner of the building.

A plant-wearing yellow stopped almost directly underneath where the animal lay flattened out on the roof. It gave an angry snort and then an equally angry bark at which a dead-skin smelling yellow came loping to meet it. The animal settled down to wait, listening to the assortment of harsh grunts and growls that were exhanged between the two:

"Damn it all, Traven! Look at this!" Sarvin shook the vandalized loaf of bread in the Hunter's face.

Traven nonchalantly took the loaf and smirked at the outraged Director.

"Someone couldnah wait for dinnertime?" the Hunter quipped.

"I hardly think this is funny."

"I hardly think this is a Ruenam's doing." Traven tore off a piece of the bread and ate it. "A Ruenam would have taken at least a whole loaf. Why bother to risk the extra time tearing off just a piece? More than likely this was the work of a hungry Farmer." He tore off another piece and ate it as well. Savin snatched what was left of the bread back.

"Or a hungry Hunter?" he said, words dripping with sarcasm.

"Exactly." Traven smiled "Now, the missing grain--- *that* is likely one of the Ruenam. Except the open bins . . ." he added thoughtfully. "I suspect an animal there. Grain already sacked is easier to steal as it comes with a free container. Loose grain is more of a nuisance to deal with."

"So all you have so far are suspicions." Savin huffed.

"Naaa . . ." Traven drawled, becoming irked. "We found more animal hairs in the bin. Probably some stupid rodent (such as yourself) that was able to move a lid that some stupid oaf of yours (probably you) didnah close well. But if you'd feel better, I could go look into our 'storage system'. He gave a wicked grin displaying aging teeth.

Grimacing, Savin tore his own chunk off of the rapidly dwindling loaf and chewed it vigorously. Rats, Ruenam, drought-ruined crops. It was turning out to be one heck of a lousy season. Why he'd every listened to the Hunter in the first place! He wondered uneasily if it had been such a good idea to actually send some of the hairs to the almighty Qwanaten. Sure, they gave added validity to his claim of hardship; but what if the Highers decided to sympathize and send him some aid that he had not asked for? The last thing he needed was for some stupid scientist journeyman to come snooping about the Yarcu.

"Alright. Animal, Ruenam, both, whatever. Do what you have to do and do it quickly. We can only afford to 'lose' the agreed on amount."

Traven snorted derisivously and shook his head. "You worry too much. Donah fret yourself, I'll take care of the freeloader whatever or whoever it is."

"Na grain. Na Yarcu. Na recruits." Savin reminded him. "Which reminds me. Have you managed to scare the fertilizer out of my son yet?"

Traven laughed at that. "Patience. I enjoy my work. Besides, I might just take a liking to the brat." He turrned and walked away before the speechless Director could think of a response. Savin savagedly stuffed the last of the loaf into his mouth.

I hate that man.

His eye noticed the wild seed pod sitting next to the remaining loaves. "How the heck did that get there?"

Up on the rooftop the animal took it all in, though not actually understanding anything other than two yellows had competitively growled over the food he had left. Supposedly the plant wearer had won. Or it was a stalemate. The animal didn't really care. All it wanted was to keep its stomach happy while staying out of the yellow ones' ways. And the four-legged brown ones' for that matter. And the striped ones'. And the mysteriously shy yellow ones' that did not associate with these particular yellow ones, but came in at night. The animal did not like them either. They took more food then they really needed. They did not leave anything in exchange. That was wrong. It couldn't remember why it was wrong, but it most definitely was so. It removed the bread from its clothing and ate it with great gusto. The stuff tasted and smelled deliciously familiar which was why it had risked detection to get it. It was much better than its usual diet of seed pods, and grains; a strangely comforting food.

Finished, it scrambled back down the way it had come and sniffed about. The way seemed clear for now. Eating a satisfying meal required a satisfying drink and it was thirsty. It had discovered a very good drinking hole in one of the cave (lodge?) things where the water had an extra richness to it. It went there.

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

Aven kicked a pebble as he headed for the building where beer was prepared and stored. Savin had not lied about the Hunters keeping him busy! Just as soon as he had finished one chore then Traven had another waiting. Now he wanted beer. Did Savin know how much these men ate and drank? They had consumed an awful lot of food at dinner.

He opened the door and went inside. Dark vats filled one corner, while kegs lined much of the walls. Taking a flask from a peg, Aven started to fill it from a tap. The strong smell of beer wafted around as he did so.

Out of the darkness there came a mighty sneeze. Startled, Aven closed the tap and looked about the dark interior.

"Hello?" One of the farmers? Silence. Aven felt a bit worried now. One of his own would have answered back. Could the Ruenam be hiding in here stealing drink? Should he run for Savin or Traven? He was between the trespasser and the door. Then again, what did he care if a Ruenam wanted a flask or two. And he didnah really care to be the one that got him or her caught and tortured by his wonderful new Sect.

"Look, whoever you are, I donah want to give any trouble. Just let me finish what I'm doing, all right?"

The end of his sentence was punctuated by another sneeze from the unknown trespasser. Aven kept one eye on the darkness and one on the tap as he filled a second flask and topped it. Unfortunately, he should have kept both eyes on where he was going. One foot hit a poled implement which rose up and smacked him hard on the knee. The first exclamation of pain was mild compared to the second when his trouser seat contacted the dirt floor. He lay there moaning, waiting for the double agony to pass before attempting to get up.

What a day.

There was a movement in the shadows. Aven watched as a short figure moved quickly to the grape-sweetened water vat, nudged back the already ajar cover, and dipped its head. Good grief! The thief that was thwarting both Hunter and Farmer was a kid no bigger than himself? Aven couldnah help but laugh. How embarrassing for both when he told them. Outwitted by a Ruenam waif!

The dark form lifted its head and chirped. That gave Aven pause. Only birds made such a sound.

"Excuse me? Owww!" he exclaimed again as he inadvertantly moved his knee. Clutched his aching anatomy and fell back on his side.

The figure seemed to flinch. It mumbled to itself in what sounded for all the world like animal sounds. Aven began to wonder if his first guess as to the trespasser's identity should be amended. Maybe this was a *mad* Ruenam child!

Finished with its solitary debate, the trespasser dipped its head once more before circling around his prone form. Aven could make out its clothing now. Ragged and torn in places. Filthy, but with hints of faded color. A virtual rainbow of color. Its head was covered by a tattered bit of cloth wrapped around like a hood from which a black shock of hair poked out.

BLACK HAIR?!!

Anarans all had blondish hair be it sun yellow or dirt straw. Yellow was human. Nobody had *black* hair or any other color save yellow for that matter. Only animals came in such mundane hues. But the figure was moving upright like a person. This didnah make sense. Unless...

"Pretending to be a Kievet or something isnah going to amuse your capturers." Aven mumbled to himself.

The trespasser froze in its tracks.

"Keevet? Keevet?" It made a rumbling sound. Not threatening like a Rapar. More puzzled; like it was questioning something. It turned to face him while tensely squatting down in a 'ready to run' stance.

"Keevet?"

Great Houses of Anar!! Forgetting any aches and pains, Aven jumped up and ran for the door as the other ran back into the shadows. In one, fluid motion fueled by panic, the Unaka boy closed the door, bolted it, and ran for all he was worth back towards the waiting Hunters. By some miracle he was still clutching the flasks.

"Savin! Savin! I caught the intruder!"

The Hunters looked at each other then the gasping boy, surrounding him in a circle before he could get past. Traven laid both hands on his shoulders to steady the boy before he fell over.

"Take a breath." he advised. "Now, where and how many Ruenam are there?

Aven shook his head. "Its na a Ruenam! Let me go! I gotta tell Savin!"

Traven nodded. It. The boy had just caught the animal then. Maybe he really *would* make a good Hunter after all.

"Jest hold yer water--- what kind of animal is it?"

"Its a *Kievet*!" Aven loudly announced, the wonder of it still in his eyes.

The hunters, who had been readying their rifles, sat back down at their tables and laughed. All except Travin.

Aven flinched as the Sect leader slapped him on the face.

"Boy, I am naught particulary partial to pranks against our Sect. Pull one again-"

"But its true! It had black and white hair with spots, and clawed fingers, and .. green.. eyes." Aven stumbled to a halt as Traven continued to stare at him with hard skepticism.

One of the hunters roared, "And then it sang sweet songs to you as you downed a flask-full!"

Aven reddened as they all laughed again. Traven took the flasks from him.

"This stuff isnah for little boys that still believe in fantasy tales. Maybe Savin gave you up too soon. You should still be drinking your mama's milk." He laughed with the others.

Turning on his heel, Aven ran to find his father. He nearly ran into a quad instead. A black quad. Aven looked up to see a man in tailored clothing looking back at him. His long riding coat was ebony black with red trim. One didn't need to see the jacket patch to know that this was one of the Tanaken. Stepping back, Aven gulped, remembering the ruined magnifying glass and tubes and things. But the man merely tipped his hat in an patronizing way.

"Pardon me, young farmer, but I came to meet--- "

"I trapped a Kievet and they wonah *listen*!" Aven blurted out. The Tanaken cocked his head and stared at him for a second; then tried again.

"--- to meet with your Yarcu Director. You wouldnah happen to know where I might find him?"

"*I* am Sarvin." Sarvin announced walking up to the quad rider. "And you must be the help I sent for." He sighed inwardly. Just as he had feared--- Tanaken had sent a young student. Looked only eighteen Turns too. That could be a blessing. Maybe if he took the offensive, the dratted youth would leave. "What took you so long to get here, boy? Mama had to cook your dinner before packing your bags?"

The newcomer narrowed his eyes slightly and straightened his back. His voice lowered to the timber of a Rapar's growl before it pounced "My *name* is Pohl Anders-Tanaken and I came at the advice of my Director, Tarsh Anders-Tanaken. I am the *Senior* Zoology Head of all New Anar. So, na, Unakan mudtoad, you did naught send *for* me. Oh.. and I pack my own equipment. Mother died quite a while back." He smiled predatorily at the the Director's white face. The pompous little man deserved much more than just a verbal thrashing, but he had things to do. Dismounting, he straightened up to his considerable height and looked bored while Savin made apologetic noises. "Now that that little detail is straightened out, where may I set up?"

"Set up?" Sarvin murmured, still rattled by his faux paus. Dr. Pohl's name was well known by even the Outskirt Yarcus. He specialized in rare species of animalia, but usually he just received specimens through the Hunters. The Royal Zoos and his own Science Sect had plenty of work for him to do without leaving the capitol. Why, then, would such a Tanaken come all they way north just because of a few rat hair samples?

Pohl leaned his 6 ft 9" frame down enough to stare into the other's face. "Set. Up. As in: here is a comfortable room for you to set up your things, sir. Would you like anything else?" The hard, amber eyes glinted dangerously.

"Oh. Of course! Um." Savin laid a fatherly hand on the awestruck figure of Aven. "This is my first-born son, Aven. Aven, take our distinguished guest to my personal room. Have Persel freshen it up for him. And donah plague him with any of your nonsense! Doctor Pohl doesnah have time for it." He smiled at his guest. "I would see you there myself, but my presence is required elsewhere. You know how it is." The Tanaken ignored him, handing his quad's reins to Aven. Not knowing whether to feel miffed or relieved at the silent dismissal, Savin went off to find Traven. Donah worry, he says. Now we've got a damn, obnoxious, High Uppity camping among us. This is just wonderful.

=================================

End of Episode 2: Part 11a