[Etwan Village of Aprawan en Ysh]

  Qui-Gon winced as the female guard blew yet another shrill blast on her
R'ket horn.

  After being handed over to the authority of the 'Gate Attendant', the
Herders hung back, waiting.  They were soon joined by what must have been
every female within the village.  Qui-Gon recongized a few more Herders by
their garb, but they were few in number.  Many more wore wore the elaborate
braiding of their 'guard', while the vast majority wore plainer tunics which
were criss-crossed with the straps from woven bags.  Their only shared
adornment being the chain of embroidered green triangles.

"Weavers and Gatherers", Pohl had explained.  Apparently the Kievet believed
in the segregation of work, having divided themselves into three main sects:

  Weavers wove everything from the garments and accessories, to the
basketlike framework of their shelters.  They also built the airy huts used
by the K'tlyan, the males being forbidden to make anything outside their own
musical craft.

 Gatherers gathered food, firewood, medicines, and acted as general Gofers.
They were also divided into Bakers.  Bakers were responsible for producing
their only cooked food, and kept medicinal knowledge---food and medicine
being the same to the Kievet.

  The Herders were responsible for the well-being of the R'ket and for
guarding the valley.  That was why they were seeing only two Triads just
now---a Triad composing a Leader, 'Journeyman', and 'Apprentice' etwani..

  The 'Fourth Sect' was the Etwan't.  These were the three oldest Etwan in
the valley, and it didn't matter from which sect they came from.  Their
judgements were absolute, with 'Kwi' the First, being the deciding
factor---Kievet authority was based on age under the supposition that the
older  you were, the more wisdom you had.

  While Pohl was of the opinion that this logic was rather iffy in regards
to the Etwan, it certainly held more weight with the K'tlyan who *had* to be
both wise and lucky to survive from adolesence to old age in the extreme
environment of the higher valleys and mountains.  "Though how much is wisdom
and how much  is sheer luck is debatable when you consider that their entire
mentality is wrapped around that mysticism of theirs."

  The only other group living in the valley would be a handful of elderly
males and the kien they were raising to be Journeying Singers.  Again, the
three oldest (of maybe just that many candidates--up to five in a larger
valley) were the decision-makers for their group----unless the circumstances
demanded their authority be overrided by the Etwan't.

  During times when both groups were involved, either side could call a
'Council' of the Etwan't and K'tlyan't, though this was a rarely instigated
by the claustrophobic males, who disliked being in Council at all and only
came out of respect for their 'Rent Managers'.

  "And will there be one called for us?"

  "What do you think this Weaver has been blasting on her horn for?"  Pohl
snapped irritably.  "K'tay and Ayar's presence makes this a K'tlyan't
affair, and Profit only knows where in the valley the males are currently
loafing.  Could be up meditating in the mountains for all anyone knows."

  Qui-Gon's mouth quirked into an almost smile.  He was developing a real
affinity for these K'tlyan, though he had only met two so far.  Many times
Yoda had tried  to get him a seat on the Jedi Council, and each time he had
refused.  The thought of being forced to sit quietly through session after
tedious session was more terrifying to the Jedi Master than going up against
a rabid Rancor.  True, as their best diplomat, many of his missions
comprised of listening to ongoing talks---but at least they were
interspersed with action---noteably when one side decided it didn't like the
way negotiations were heading and tried to literally force a different
outcome.  He, too, preferred to stay away from the Temple as much as
possible.

  Suddenly, the crowd of some 65 Etwan started to part from the triangular
tent that dominated the village.  Qui-Gon remembered seeing it from the
transport.  Unlike the drab rectangles that surrounded it on most sides,
this building was not only differently shaped, but quite garish.  One side
was completly orange, one utterly green, while the side they were facing was
an 8-colored mosaic of triangles and stripes.  Topping it all was a small
pyramid of black with white dots.

  Pohl grunted.  "That's the Council Tent.  The orange represents the Kievet
as a whole, the green is this particular clan, the riot of colors is for the
combined 'functions' of male and female, and the little starry bit on top
represents their 'K'yavanti' watching over them all."  He silently indicated
the green side, where two Etwan were holding aloft a flap in the wall.  From
it emerged three white-haired females.

  "Our hosts?" Qui-Gon murmured, feeling a familiar power coming from the
middle female.  Or, rather, something she held---and he could well guess
what it was that had caught his attention.  A gemstone of such quality was
not unlike that which powered his own lightsaber.  Were such stones common
here?

  "The Etwan't.  Two Weavers and a Herder.  The one hefting that staff with
the green bauble rammed into the top is their Kwi.  The other with the white
feather stuck in her hair is the Fen or Second Eldest."  Jinn felt the
Anaran stiffen slightly.  "The Herder is the third oldest."

  Tearing his eyes away from the chunk of green held within the wooden
staff, Qui-Gonn studied the last as they slowly approached, aided by a trio
of sharp-eyed Attendants.  Neither taller nor shorter than her sisters, her
demeanor fairly screamed to the Jedi of impatience.  She raised her head and
scowled at him as if aware that she was being scrutinized.

  So that was the infamous Lelana?  She did look rather formidable for all
that she came no higher than his breastbone---if she stretched.

  Coming to a stop before the crouched K'tay, the Kwi-Etwan't of Ysh took
advantage of a small stool that was placed down for her comfort.  She stared
at him before touching the top  of his head with the emerald in her staff.

  "Tas, Ktlyan."

  K'tay unfolded himself to offer her a timid breath from his mouth before
offering introductions, starting with the stiff-stanced Pohl.

  "Anders en Shypavet."

  The Etwan't looked warily at the Tanaken, but gave no protest.  Lelana
gave him a long look though before moving her attention on.

  Qui-Gon copied K'tay's bow when his turn came, laying a heavy hand on
Nick's shoulder to get him to go down some as well.  The vampire didn't so
much as flinch as Jinn got him into a more respectful position.

  "Mieket Kwi G'wan Jin en Jedi d Nik-ah-las Jedi kien."

  The surrounding Etwan begain murmurring loudly around them until the Kwi
raised her staff.

  "Shah!"  demanded a weak voice.

  Immediately, utter silence fell.

  Weak brown eyes stared into Qui-Gon's blue, as athritic fingers felt his
clothing and face without apology.  "Na V'enk.  Na Kievet.  Et ah, Mieket
Jedi?"

  "She doesn't recognize your species and wants to know from what land you
came," Pohl translated.

  "Coruscant, my lady." Qui-Gon said in his humblest tone.

  Pohl scowled and rolled his eyes, but translated for him.  "Koruscan't,
Kwi-Etwan't"

  "Koruscan't?  Yuita Koruscan't et Ava?" (Where is Coruscant?)

  "Na Ava," K'tay interjected before Pohl could answer with some made-up
explanation.  He felt uncomfortable enough as it was with having to be
'tactful' about Pohl's true identity.  The thought of having to work with an
out  and out lie made his stomach queasy.  "Na Ava, my Eldest, but from the
Stars come these.  Journey to us for help they have done."

  That started the Etwan murmuring even louder than before the word 'Tay'
being spread like wildfire.  This time it took the elderly leader several
commands to get them to quiet down again.  She turned back to the K'tay.

  "How is it, Singer From Flah, that ones from K'yavanti come seeking our
help?  Are we not the ones in need ourselves?"

  "Honored One, these Jedi are as we---born of K'yavanti, yet of a different
making.  A sister land to Ava as the Mountains of Flah are the sisters to
the Mountains of Ysh.  And K'yavanti has taught them differently as we---as
the K'tlyan and the Etwan are different, yet of the same Creator.  Please
grant them aid."

  "You say they are of a different Clan than we---why is it then that the
kien looks more as we than as the Guardian?"

  "Nik-a-las is of Ava...and na.  I was referring to the tall one and the
others he came with---who chose not to enter Ysh with us."

  "Speaak sense, Singer!  One is of Ava or na." Lelana broke in impatiently.
"Just what manner of destruction have you brought upon us this time?"

  K'tay cringed.  "Na destruction, Les-Etwan't.  Asked of K'tlysa before
bringing here, did.  Never endanger the People."

  The Second Eldest spoke up, "Yet you brought in one of the Yellow
Ones---and into our very midst---all without permission.  Perhaps our sister
is correct that your stay with the Enemy's People has tainted you with
Unayarek."

  K'tay had crumbled back down into his crouch by this time, his face awash
in tears even though he knew the Etwan hated such displays of emotion save
during times of Festival.  This was going badly.  Not only was he being
accused of the worst offense known to his People, but he could sense Pohl's
rising impaitence and anxiety.   If the Anaran started firing his rifle
staff, then he really *would* be responsible for betraying his kind.  He
frantically sought for a reply that would defuse the situation.  Why did
K'tlysa advise him to let them come into Ysh if Death was to be the result?

  The loud bugle call of a male R'ket echoed over the village stilling the
inhabitants.

  Qui-Gon watched as the rider that everyone else had neglected to notice
had entered the village a moment ago, nudged his Companion slowly in the
direction of the Eldests.  Hair snow white, he was dressed exactly as K'tay
save for the greenish stone in his scarf ring and the differnt direction the
stripes in his pattern the embroidery on his chest pouch ran.  Unlike
K'ishti and K'tay who seemed inordinately shy amongst others, this K'tlyan
brazenly rode right up to them without so much as a qualm.

  The K'tlyan tensed in his seat as he openly stared at Pohl---the Anaran
returning the the hostile look with a smug one accompanied with a pointed
glance at K'tay. The rider scowled in distaste, but nodded in
acknowledgement of some silent agreement between them.  Only after he was
almost past them did he dismount; tranfer his attention to Qui-Gon and
Nicholas, his forest-green eyes showing puzzlement as his nostrils quivered.
But for K'tay, his eyes fairly shone with pleasure, offered an encouraging
grin and hug before facing the Kwi-Etwan't and showing her his respect with
the customary gestures and humble stance.

  "And here comes the Leader of the fallen," Lelana huffed.

  The Eldest shot her an annoyed glance as she nodded a greeting to the
newcomer and touching him with her staff.  "Tas, K'yer en Mes-K'tlyan't et
Ysh."

  He rose, standing almost as tall as the Herder, and speared Lelana with a
look, his baritone voice holding a trace of derision as he switched roles
from obediant servant to righteous speaker.

  "How is it then, Honored First Eldest Fiyana?  Have the  Etwan taken the
gift of the Singers?  Shall mine start to gather the pakha and weave it into
tunics, while the kien watch over the R'ket mothers?  How is it that the
*Honored* Third Eldest of Ysh knows more of the Destroyer than the one
chosen by the Creator's own Messenger?  Did in my time of communion with my
Spirit Brother, miss the moment when Water turned into Land and the fish
grew hoofs?  Please, oh, please, enlighten me, Honored Third, since you
appear to be the only one with this knowing."

  Qui-Gon could have sworn Lelana's facial skin under the fur went from
orange to purple.

  A few of the youngest females tittered, their breach of etiquette quickly
silenced by their Triad sisters.  Some of the oldest Leaders sighed,
recognizing an old battle about to be rekindled.  However, they all
sharpened their hearing.

   K'yer, however loved for his skill during Festival, tended to avoid the
Etwan except for when absolutely necessary---going so far as to have
another's kien bring him his bread.  Some saw this as rude behavior even
considering male shyess---which he otherwise showed an almost Etwanish lack
of.

  Lelana was respected for her position and a well-known fixture of the
village.  She was also held something in awe for being one of only five
Etwan to journey beyond the valley of their making and survive the
experience.  However, her acid tongue was quick on those not of her own Sect
or who did not uphold her own view on tradition.  She was not well-loved,
but that didn't matter.  She was Etwan't.

  These open confrontations between Etwan and K'tlyan't being somewhat of a
rare event, and the highly social Etwan being the lovers of gossip that they
were, no one wanted to miss a word or a gesture of this.

  Smoothing her tunic while recovering her composure, Lelana cattily spat
out:  "If so, K'yer, it wouldn't be the first time a kien wore a nishu,
would it?"

  Now it was the Etwan who scored a hit as her advesary momentarily closed
his eyes, allowing a shudder to pass through him.  "Better that than to have
been the one to send Telani to her---"

  "Enough!" Lelana commanded.

  Green eyes darkened; brown ones flashed.

  "Na.  It is a Herd Leader's duty to watch the snowfall--," Kyer began
clearly trying to remain in control of his temper.  "--to assess the
danger---yet you failed to warn her."

  "It was an error in judgement.  Na more,"  Lelana dismissed his
accusation.
  K'yer's voice became a soft growl edged with pain.  "It was Warm before
found her body---unbroken!"

  "Now it is my fault that she was naught split open by the rocks?  That
your forbidden mating was cut short?  Aahh...say again, K'yer, it was your
own darkness that brought her death.  You chose Telani.  You chose to stay
with her.  You brought the curse upon yourselves!"  She stuck an accusing
finger at K'tay.  "And now the diseased seed you brought to us has brought
more of Unayarek.  This Yellow One!  These New Ones!  What say you to
that?!"

  The elderly Singer's shoulder's drooped as he bowed his head, but Qui-Gon
could sense the anger seething inside.  "Perhaps is as you say, Les.
Perhaps Unayarek passed me by when killed my Ysh Companion because was na
worthy to bother with.  Perhaps Telani died because the Darkness shadows my
Spirit."  He turned and knelt before the Second Eldest, his voice taking on
a musical lilt.  "But my Counterpart knows," he nodded towards the Second
Eldest for whom he served as personal counselor, "and my Brothers know," a
hand ran down the striped side of his tunic, "and the very Stars know that
K'tay is na tainted with me.  Would they have chosen to be held within him
if this was na so?"  He pivoted towards the First Eldest to continue his
impassioned pleading, eyes approprately riveted to his boots.  "Listen to
him, Ysh, and na to me, then.  This one is but a tired pudddle of Water,
muddied by the V'rek paws.  But K'tlysa has chosen Sprit of Stars as his
perch."

  The Kwi-Etwan't placed her hand on his head and gentlely caressed the
whitened hairs.  "Be calm, K'yer.  We do na question K'tay's tie with
K'yavanti---nor your own.  Ysh will open itself to these till aid is given
in full.  Though do not trust the Yellow Ones, these Others have given na
reason to turn away."

  "My gratitude, Oh Honored Kwi en Ysh."

  "When your Brothers arrive, Ysh grants leave of your services for two
Journeys of Enkati.  Then shall in need of comfort be---as, suspect, will my
Triad."

  "Aye, my First One.  Will tell them of the need."

  "And, K'yer...these ones?"

  K'yer sighed.  "K'tay will do as he feels as will the other.  What would
you have me say, great Kwi?  Can na speak for others."

  Kwi Fiyana smiled.  "Of course na.  See to our guests, Second Elder, while
wait for the others.  I will have food and shelter assigned to you."
 

Accepting a basket of fruit, Qui-Gon took a seat on the rug-strewn floor of
the building they had been escorted to.  The walls were made of a tightly
woven plant material with wooden support beams, but the roof had part of the
top blankets pulled back so that there was plenty of natural light to see
by.

Across from him sat a rather stiff Pohl---hands resting on his rifle---one
eye appraising the Elder Singer while eating his share of the food.

Close to his right sat K'tay with Nicholas, K'yer hovering over the latter
as he clicked softly back and forth with the former.

  "So this is where you've been hiding out all this time, eh, K'yer?" the
Doctor drawled sarcastically, indicating the village with a gesture of his
free hand.  He took another bite of food.  "Keeping the Etwan happy."

   K'yer refused to look his way, instead, he seemed absorbed with studying
Nick's eyes as he absently replied, "Keeping you unhappy by avoiding the
Vrek you sent looking for me has been the whole purpose of this one's life,
Pohl.  And a delight it has been---as am sure you can imagine."

Qui-Gon smiled to himself as Pohl scowled.  The older fellow had only spoken
his native languages so far---it had suprised the Jedi Master to hear him
speak Anaran so easily, since coming in the kievet had stubbornly refused to
speak other than his own native tongue no matter how much Anders pestered
him.  Jinn had begun to think the Singer had forgotten whatever he had
learned of the language.
Apparently not.

  "If you can't stand to be with Lelana, donah blame me.  Or were you
banished from all the other clans as well?"

  "There are na other Clans."

  "What?"

  At last, K'yer looked away from Nicholas---not to the choking Pohl, but to
Qui-Gon.

  "You are *really* from Vast?  This is naught another lie spoken by the
Destroyers?"

  Meeting the intense gaze for an instant before politley looking aside,
Qui-Gon nodded.

  "Aye, I came from what you call Vast---I and my student.  But Nicholas is
rather unique and very much need of help."

  "So my former kien says, and so senses tell me.  K'tay says he seems of
Ava and Anar.  But there is more within.   And this more is naught of you
either---and yet it is..."

  "Different and same?"

  "Aye,"  K'yer gave him a short bow, grinning as he rose to blow on the
Jedi's face.  "Forgive this one for naught acknowledging before.  Pohl is
well known to me, but was uncertain of you until spoke with K'tay---and
Nik-ah-las at least *smells* of K'tay.  Have found it best to be wary of
strangers."

  "Na apology is necessary.  I understand that you have reason to be wary."

  "Never mind that!" Pohl broke in.  "What do you mean there are no other
Clans?"

  "You mean your V'rek have naught taken the time to report back to you
yet?"  K'yer sighed, looking bone weary.  "So sorry have spoiled their
surprise.  Aye, Pohl, what you see of my People is in this valley--the
original Ysh and what had managed to save from Flah.  Two K'tlyan arrived
from the high valleys above Avenati and one hiding in the ruins of Enk.
Stories they told of the slaughter found in Aventi and Aya.  The other
valleys have seen for self---kien left gutted next to their teachers.  Etwan
burned with their etwani.

  K'tay, who had been listening to all of this gave a low keen that lasted
for several minutes, during which a stunned Pohl stared into the small fire
blazing in the firepit.

  "This was not authorized by me, Jedi.  I swear!  I and the Unakan Hunters
made an agreement---Matek can vouch for it as he was one of the two who
sealed it.  No more than two Kievet per Clan were to be harvested for furs.
All others were to be preserved for study and for stock.  It must be the
Qwanaten---but they wouldn't.  As long as we pay the tithe---they wouldn't
interfere with our Profit.  Unless it's Raiders...?"  He ran his fingers
through his hair.  "I should talk with Arva and Matek immediately.  Get the
Unakans to guard this valley--"

  "You wish Arva to help Ysh?  Always the lie with you, Pohl.  Have gotten
so good at it that even your body does naught signal it anymore.  But is na
good, for have smelled Arva at Yuiti.  Will na help you destroy what
remains."

  "If I do not form an accord with the Unak against the Ruenam your precious
Ysh will be found and decimated as well!" Pohl angrily returned.  He rounded
on the Jedi.  "Tell your transport to pick us up immediately."

  "Na."

  "Why ever naught?"

  "Because that is not part of my mission.  I am here soley for the welfare
of Nicholas and not your..Profit."

  "What about the welfare of the Kievet you have expressed such concern
over?!"

  "If the Kievet ask for Republic assistance, then I will relay the message.
The Jedi can naught interfere."

  "Re-pub-lik?"

  "A gathering of different Clans from around Vast.  If the Kievet wish to
join the Republic they can ask for help in keeping the Ruenam at bay."

  "Wait a minute!  You can naught give the Kievet Republican citizenship!"

  Ever calm, Qui-Gon let a small smile show.  "Of course naught---that would
be up to the Senate.  However, there is nothing that says the Kievet can
naught apply.  They are a sentient race.  The fact that they share a planet
with the Anarans would have no bearing on their petition."

  "The Qwanaten would not permit your ships to land on our soil."

  "Then they would land on Kievet soil."

  "They would be shot down!"

  "I sincerely hope not---as that would be seen as an act of war against the
Republic."

  "Oh, you have got it all figured very nicely, have naught you?  But I have
read of this Senate of yours---they move slower than a Reef snail.  The
Kievet would be extinct by the time they finished arranging their first
sub-Committee to study the application."

  "True enough."

  "Ha!"  Pohl clapped his hands together in triumph.

  "That is why I have already sent a communique to the Jedi Temple.  It is
well within the Order's rights to protect potential Initiates regardless of
their standing in the Republic."

  "Initiates?" the Tanaken coughed.

  "Do naught sound so surprised, Doctor.  Ayar was Force sensitive despite
the fact that none of the Anarans tested anywhere near Jedi levels.
Obviously, the genetic disposition came from his other side.  Now that we
have found that other side, and I have verifyed to the Council what I have
sensed here, the Jedi will come to do formal testing.  I expect them within
the week or soner---regardless the outcome of my primary mission."  He
nodded at K'yer and K'tay.  "Speaking of which...how soon before you can
help Nik-ah-las?"

  "As soon as the Kwi and Les K'tlyan't of Ysh arrive."

  "And that would be?"

  "They were up on the mountainside listening to Snow and Rock.  They should
return by coming again of Enkati."
 

  Next morning came and went as well as Bread Giving, and still no sign of
the K'tlyan Elders were seen.  K'yer was plainly worried---his Brothers
would naught miss getting their bread unless something urgent had detained
them.  An inquiry of their kien as they got their own rolls was not
reassuring.

  "Neither kien has seen his Mieket since they departed, nor have the
Herders herd their Companions' calls," he informed the others.

  "You think they are dead?" Qui-Gon asked.

  K'yer absently fingered the embroidery of his neck scarf.  "Na.  Would
have felt if was so, and so would K'tay.  But something is very wrong, Kwi
G'wan--that we do feel."

  "Do you wish my help in locating them?"

  "The mountains are a large place, Tayaflahviet.  K'tay says that the Torn
One has naught the time to wait."  K'tay nodded, his attention centered on
trying to get Nicholas to eat a bit of his bread roll.  "With this K'yer
agrees with."

  "But you need three Elders to perform the healing?

  "Ah...na.  Na necessary---just better certain of outcome with more.  But
Kwi G'wan is from Vast and has own knowledge of K'yavanti.  You can take
place of one Brother if willing."

  "Oh, Prairie, "muttered Pohl.  "Yes, let's all sit around and waste time
humming together.  That will certainly save everyone."

  Both Jedi and Kievet ignored him.

  "I will do whatever you feel necessary, Singer," Qui-Gon gave a
deprecating smile,   "But you will have to guide me in what to do.  And I'm
afraid my singing skills are not up to your par.  It has been known to
frighten small children and send small avians to flight."  Obi-Wan had
quoted that to him once, and he had agreed with the sentiment.  His talents
were many---but not in that area.

  K'yer's green eyes sparkled as he gave a short laugh.  "It is storied that
amongst the first K'tlyan was one who sang as bad as a V'rek with a throat
injury.  We will see what can be done to get around your...handicap."