Log Date: 10/16/97, 10/17/97 Log Cast: Leeloo, Shenneret Veery, Kadgie, Telos, Dagny, Nazerath, Sharkad, Paul Nighman Log Intro: The trip to Ithor has been a failure; the _Quasar Bolt_ is still missing. Paul and Shenner have returned to Kichnar Station to attempt to resume preparation for the coming journey to Mandalore. But the situation is still delicate between the Corellian and the young bardling; Paul is struggling to absorb the implications of all that has happened between the two of them, and to her dismay, Shen observes that he undergoes more than one sleepless night, and that he returns somewhat to his earlier habits of going off on his own business without her. But after one such occurrence becomes overlong, Shen ventures out to find her beloved, growing worried about his absence.... ---------- Level 4 -Landing Pad- The Kichnar Station landing pad is built into the fourth level of the station. Wedge-shaped, it takes up about a quarter of the largest level on the Kichnar Orbital Station. Various ship maintenance and repair equiptment lines the walls. A set of hydrospanners lie errantly on the floor. A fusion generator supply tank stands at ready to fuel ships. An airlock leads to the main concourse of the station. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS Caledonia => SHUTTLE: CSS Olumekar => Leeloo => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Wanderer Mk II -- Mergansar Dawn => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Wanderer Mk II -- CCS Keramisk => STARFIGHTER: Corellian YT-1300 -- Typhos => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- Quasar Bolt => CAPITAL: Sienar Maurader Corvette -- Serpent Eyes => CAPITAL: Numiri Corvette MDS/001a -- White Star => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve => CAPITAL: Sienar Fleet Systems GAT-12j Skipray -- Sea Flat => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CFS Kresta => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Wanderer Mk II -- CFS Windancer => starport computer => Transport Panel => NOTIFICATION => Trade Panel: Kichnar -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- oreward leads to Level 4 -Concourse-. Leeloo is keaning aginst a bulkhead, watching people. Leeloo looks at you for a moment. Shenner comes tramping down off a small Ilyrian Gnat, buttoning up a green vest about her slight form and scanning the docking bay. Looking slightly worried, her brow furrowed under her thick forelock, the young human begins to search her surroundings, perhaps looking for something, or someone. Leeloo Before you is a lovely human woman. Standing on long, lucious legs, she reaches 6'5" easily, and she looks to be around 18/19 sdt. years old. Her shoulder length hair is orange in color, and is worn in uncut, unruely braids. Her eyes are an icy blue color which makes it look as thought she could see your soul. Her full, pouty lips are the same orange as her hair. Leeloo's currently dressed in oversized, baggy clothing. Over all of her clothing she has on a thick dark-green overcoat that just tuches the floor. Under this, you see she has on a tight black tunic, which shows the outlines of her breasts and abs. For pants, she has on some old Imperial Navy dress pants, which are about 4 or 5 sizes too large for her legs. On her feet are her trademark scuffed Imperial Navy boots. They have paint and other stuff caked on them, and it looks like someone's tried to remove it.. Shenner(#3773POACF) For all that her walk, stance, and mannerisms might seem far more suited to a brash and rough young human male, this is clearly a female of the species, a lean one, with slight and delicate curves. When she is standing, she is about 5'6" in height. Her russet hair frames her face in a thick mop of loose waves, with a heavy forelock frequently dangling across her brow in front, and strands brushing the base of her neck in back. She speaks and sings with a low husky voice, and regards the world with a pair of large, luminous, and sharply intelligent green eyes. She is clad in simple and unobtrusive garb, snug-fitting without being constricting: a forest-green shirt with full sleeves gathered at the wrists and a few small pleats near the buttons at the top; a vest of a similar green hue, lightweight yet made of a sturdy weather-resistant fabric, and sporting several pockets; and lastly, slate-blue breeches tucked into scuffed but serviceable cloud-grey suede boots. Around her waist is slung a light utility belt. Leeloo glances at Shenner just as she glances at her, and gives a short and friendly nod. Green eyes take in the taller female, and Shen quirks a grin by way of greeting, sidling nearer. "Hey, you ain't by any chance seen a Corellian around, have yah? He's about yay tall" -- a hand comes up, stopping about eight inches over the redhead's head -- "got kinda sandy hair, hazel eyes?" Leeloo ponders for a moment, the says, "Got a name for the face?" The Olumekar powers up it's engines and leaves the landing area. "Yeah... his name's Paul Nighman," the redhead replies steadily. The Olumekar comes in for a landing and powers down it's engines. Kadgie walks down the ramp of the Olumekar. Kadgie has arrived. Leeloo hmmms. "I think so, but I wouldn't trust that...I've seen lots of sandt haired people today..." Kadgie walks out the airlock to the station. Kadgie has left. Telos enters from coreward. Telos has arrived. Shenner chews her lower lip a moment, consideringly. "Okay... well, thanks. If you run into him tonight, tell him Shen's lookin' for him, will yah?" The young woman doesn't look exactly... worried, per se, but that's definitely concern flickering across her gaze. Telos strides into the hangar, a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Leeloo nod's to Shen. "No problem." Telos This human male stands roughly 5'9 and looks like he weighs around 150 pounds. He has short cropped brown hair, brushed forward , with the bangs swept to the right. He has a deep brown eyes, a rather average looking face, and a wiry build. His hands are proportional to his body, but they end in long, slender fingers. He is wearing a slate green flight suit with black splotches on it. An Ensign ranking is on the right breast and a Caspar Marine Crest adorns the left shoulder. He is also wearing (or carrying) a slate green duty jacket with a silve tri-braid rope on the left shoulder, the Ensign rank plaqard on right breast and Marine crest on left shoulder. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Kylan-3 Heavy Blaster Pistol => Combat Armour -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Comlink => Black duffel bag Leeloo is leaning aginst a bulkhead, watching people. Telos stops for a moment, then walks a circuit around the Serpent Eyes. Dagny enters from coreward. Dagny has arrived. Nazerath enters from coreward. Nazerath has arrived. Shenner inclines her head thankfully to Leeloo, muttering, "Somebody musta seen 'im..." Telos shrugs, shakes his head at the capital ships in the landing bay, and heads for the shuttle. Nazerath enters the hanger, and looks at all the ships. Dagny, with Nazerath next to her, heads over to the CCS K'nak-Ve and keys in a code. Shenner turns, and scans the docking bay, trying to pick out anybody else in earshot. Dagny enters in a code and unlocks STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve has relocked itself Leeloo nods to Shen. "Might want to check port authority, see if he's registered at any of the inns on the station." Telos has left. Telos walks up the ramp of the Olumekar. Dagny enters in a code and unlocks STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve Hrmm. A few people. Taking a chance, the young redhead calls out, "Hey, anybody seen a Corellian around?" The Olumekar powers up it's engines and leaves the landing area. STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve has relocked itself Leeloo smirks and chuckles silently. Dagny half-chuckles, and calls back, "What kind?" Dagny looks at you for a moment. Shenner turns towards Dagny, a lopsided grin on her slim young face, a grin that doesn't quite eliminate the concern in her eyes. "A male one," she calls back, lifting a hand to about eight inches over her head. "Yay tall. Got kinda sandy hair, hazel eyes. Good lookin'. Seen anybody like that?" Dagny works her jaw slowly to the right and then to the left, sucking in one cheek a little bit as she thinks. "Not lately, far as I can recall," she answers. "Is he definitely here and you just lost track of him, or is there somewhere else he might be? The former, one of the guards or the Director would be someone to talk to." "Oh, he's here alright," says the redhead, ambling over nearer to Dagny. "Just ain't seen him today. He flies the ship I'm ridin' around on." Shen chews her lower lip again, making herself look a touch younger than she probably likes, given the bravado of her stance and stride. "Enh, dammit, I guess I'll search the station. Y'all see anybody named Nighman around, tell him Shen's lookin' for him, okay?" Dagny nods at that. "I'll keep an eye out," she says, then turns to Nazerath. "Ready?" Nazerath nods.. Dagny enters in a code and unlocks STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve Nazerath steps up to the sleek looking ship Nazerath has left. Nazerath enters STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve Shenner smiles a trifle anxiously to Dagny, then turns and scans the bay again, before finally squaring her shoulders and heading off towards the Core. STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve has relocked itself Dagny gives a confident nod Shenner's way, then heads up the gangplank. Dagny enters in a code and enters STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve Dagny has left. Leeloo snuggles back intothe bulkhead, if possible, and just stands ther watvhing people...not very exciting, unless there's a reason...who knows, maybe she likes crowd gazing. You open the airlock and head into the KOS. Level 4 -Concourse- The main concourse of the KOS is the busiest part of the station. Wider than the rest of the station,this level is nearly half a mile in diameter. The center of the concourse is domed upward, with the turbolift tube rising up through the center. Spacers, traders, technicians and guards of countless races bustle through the concourse. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Galactic Bank ATM -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Sharkad => IGNews Terminal - KOS => SQUAD: Caspar Guards - 7042 => Caspar News Service - Kichnar Edition => Mail Terminal: Kichnar -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Edgeward West leads to Level 4 -Landing Pad-. Edgeward North leads to Level 4 -Northern Concourse-. Edgeward South leads to Level 4 -Southern Concourse-. Edgeward East leads to Level 4 -Eastern Concourse-. TurboLift leads to Turbolift. Leeloo comes in from the landing pad. Leeloo has arrived. Leeloo heads into the northern concourse. Leeloo has left. Leeloo comes from the northern concourse. Leeloo has arrived. Sharkad +-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Sharkad =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ |Before you stands a tall feline looking creature of about 2.7 meters in | |height. He is covered from head to lower paw with thick grey fur that is | |streaked with black stripes running from his back to his front, all the | |way up to the back of the head where they arc forward to frame his furry | |face. His belly and chest are covered in a thick white fur and a strange | |pointed red symbol has been dyed into his strong upper right torso. His | |face is that of a large cat, with a wet black nose and verticly slitted | |bright red eyes. His whiskers are dyed blood as well as the usually black| |stripes on the left side of his head. His pointed ears are pierced many | |times with many hoops of gold and silver. His mouth is twisted in a cruel| |perpetual sneer and you see a few of his teeth are capped gold instead of| |the plain white. His paws are large and vaguely human-like in shape, with| |sharp claws that are occasionally flexed to idly rip something nearby to | |shreds. His tail is swaying lazily behind him, seeming to have it's own | |mind but if anyone glances at him for more than a second with out reason | |it seems to speed up imperceptibly. | +-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Light Armor => Sword -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Earing(#5156Cn) => Comlink => A necklace strung with several kinds of teeth Leeloo enters the concourse, and spots Sharkad. She smiles, and heads over twards him. Shenner makes a sweep through the area, scanning the place anxiously; something seems to occur to her, though, and she heads off for the northern concourse. [Shen searches the station, eventually discovering that Paul is nowhere on Kichnar. She returns to the Landing Pad to take the shuttle Olumekar planetside, intending to search for him on Caspar's surface. Once there, feeling uncomfortably as if she were replaying the time on Palanhi that she'd spent the entire night looking for the Corellian, she nevertheless finds herself choosing her course almost without thinking about it....] You head for the beach. Hideaway Beach - Plaxton City Surging whitecaps paint themselves onto the powderlike, white sands of this sliver of beachfront, tucked between the two massive bluffs that encircle Plaxton City. The waves have eaten into several places on the shore, forming rocky outcroppings and small coves, but one long strip is laden with pristine, whispy sand. A few Pula trees jut out, throwing their branches toward the tides. A few hundred meters from shore, a jagged pebble of an island stands defiantly in the surf, holding up an old, unused lighthouse. The night sky above is cloudy obscuring it from sight. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Paul_Nighman => Sheriff Gergon => Lighthouse -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ast leads to West Blake St. - Plaxton City. The Corellian has been on the beach for hours now, the bottle he was drinking from lost in the sand, or perhaps the ocean. The beach is dark, the sky dotted with stars, the moon full and shining, wisps of clouds scraping against it. Paul is walking, despite the cold, with his boots off, his feet in the surf. He is singing, and that perhaps is the first clue that something is not quite right. He sounds fine, his voice strong and carrying well on the still night air. It's perhaps a little -too- strong .... Paul doesn't tend to sing very loud, especially out in public areas. His gaze is fixed upon the night air, his steps almost lightly dancing, as if waltzing with an invisible partner. Sister moon ... will be my guide, In your blue blue shadows I would hide. All good people ... asleep tonight. I'm all by myself in your silver light. I would gaze at your face the whole night through. I'd go out of my mind, but for you, I'd go out of my mind, but for you ... Lying in ... a mother's arms. The primal root ... of a woman's charms. I'm a stranger to the sun, My eyes are too weak. How cold is a heart, When it's warm that he seeks? You watch every night, you don't care what I do. I'd go out of my mind, but for you. I'd go out of mind, but for you. _Something_ had drawn her here, to this place, before she'd even finished searching Kichnar Station, and before she'd even resorted to checking the local med center -- or even in with Marcus Crowley. Perhaps it was the half-formed recollection that he'd spoken of a sleepless night on the beach a few days ago... or simply that the scent and smell of the ocean murmur strongly to her of _Paul_. As Shen comes out onto the sand, leaving the city's noise behind her, she casts a green gaze up and down the stretch of beach... and draws to a startled halt as Paul's loudly ringing tenor rolls up to her. The voice continues to break forth in song as the sea breaks forth in foam. Now, clearly dancing in the white water, his clothes throughly soaked and plastered against him, Paul finishes the slow sultry melody. The words ring out true, if somewhat oddly with only the air and the ocean for accompaniment: My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun. My hunger for her explains everything I've done. To howl at the moon the whole night through. And they really don't care if I do. I'd go out of my mind, but for you .... Shenner stands there staring near a pair of pula trees, and not quite believing what she's seeing. In the space of a couple of seconds, it is evident to her that her beloved is alright, if acting strangely -- and with a leap of intuition like unto the one that had brought her here, she thinks, _He's drunk._ Shen pauses to tug off her boots, then pads closer to the Corellian, calling out, "Paul! Hey, Paul...?" The sand is chill beneath her feet, the warmth of the sun long since leeched away. When she reaches the tide mark, the sand turns actively cold and wet. Her lover turns, looking at her blankly for a moment, his figure and features thrown into sillhouette by the moons glow. Recognition strikes, and Paul murmurs simply, "Shen." Shenner tries on a tilted smile, looking up at the soaked Corellian, and answers back just as simply, "Hiya." Paul blinks, the wind ruffling his hair over his eyes, as it appears it's been doing for quite some time now. His clothes hang loosely about him, wet through and covered with sand. He gives her a lopsided smile as well, his body tilting in accordance. "Heya ... can't sleep?" he asks her. "Me neither," he answers without even giving her the opportunity to agree or not with him. Paul_Nighman Paul Nighman is a tall and lanky Corellian, 6'3", with a lean and muscular build. His face sports rugged features and a cleft in his chin. He is generally on the unshaven side - a sort of perpetual five o'clock shadow look, unless he has made a distinct effor to clean himself up. His hair is light brown with gold highlgiths, and there is one unruly swatch that has the tendency to fall over his brow. His eyes are expressive and hazel in color with a green sunburst around the pupils. His skin has a naturally tanned look to it and in general he is robust and attractive. He has long muscled arms with light scars and nicks crisscrossing them. His hands are similarly large and strong, laced with thin scars. His voice is deep, warm, and gravelly. He is currently wearing a deep blue shirt, the collar high on his neck, opened to expose the base of his throat with just a hint of collarbone. The sleeves are full, gathered in at the wrists with long tapering cuffs. The soft natural fabric is tucked into dark blue breeches, a thin line of light blue piping extending down along the length of the outside seam, only to disappear beneath calf-high black boots. A black leather belt circles his waist, the matching holster trailing down his left thigh, containing in it's grasp a blaster. A simple black vest drapes over his shoulders, cinched in slightly at the back to bring it close to his torso. For once the Corellian is clean shaven and impeccably groomed. There is the clean scent of sandlewood about him. At the moment, the clothes are all rumpled and messed. The shirt has been pulled out, the collar undone to nearly mid-waist. The sleeves have been rolled up and the vest hangs loosely about his frame. "Missed yah," Shen allows readily. "Awful quiet on the _Wing_ without you. Been lookin' for yah for a few hours." Watching him lean a few degrees, she makes herself sound utterly casual as she appends, "Wanted to make sure you were okay." "M'fine," he informs her, his brows winging down into a frown. "You didn't have to worry," he clarifies, the lie coming easily to his lips ... as easily as it did to his own rationale when he made the decision. "Can't sleep," he mutters, "so I figured something to drink might help ... but," he adds, a little disconcerted, "it doesn't seem to be workin' ... 'cause I'm still awake." He crosses his sodden arms, frowning again. "So I'm here," he finishes, as if that explains everything. Shen sighs, and offers Paul her hands, as she points out pragmatically, "Well, you ain't gonna get to sleep standin' here in cold water." She pauses, then adds, the smile turning a little softer on her face, silvered by the moonlight, "Get you somethin' warm in yah, maybe. Come with me...?" "Warm?" he marvels, remembering the burn of the brandy. "But Shen, I must have already drunk a whole bottle ... any more and I'll be drunk!" he tells her earnestly, taking a unsteady step forward. A very slight tremor - shivers it looks like - can be discerned in the moonlight. _A whole -bottle-?! Got news, k'chaiya, you -are- drunk!_ With a mighty effort, Shenner manages to regulate her expression down to a momentary widening of her eyes, and she hopes that in the soft moonlit night, that might be passed off as inconsequential. "So I'll just make you hot cocoa," she promises, clasping Paul's hands in hers and stepping closer, ignoring the cold wavelets lapping at her feet. The tremor is physically palpable now, a subtle but constant shiver running through his frame. And no wonder ... the hands clasped are wet and chill. "Cocoa ...." he echos thoughtfully, as if trying to decide if he likes the idea. _Bright suns, he's soaked..._ "And a backrub and warm blankets," Shen coaxes, tugging gently at those chilled hands she holds. "C'mon, love?" Allowing himself to be coaxed out of the surf, Paul follows the tug on his hands obediently. The walk slowly over the sand until Paul stops firmly. "Hold on ... gotta get my stuff," he explains. He may be drunk, but he's not stupid. The girl bobs her head, darting off a moment to fetch her boots where she'd laid them by the pula trees, before quickly returning. "Where?" The lanky man has already wandered off, stopping near a pile that seems to consist of his boots and satchel. He is crouched over them, his fingers resting against the sand. However, he seems unusually preoccupied with the feel of the grains against his fingers, the pile remaining untouched. Shen takes a moment to put her own boots back on, before she draws up beside Paul, resting a hand lightly on his damp shoulder. "Hey," she says softly, both by way of announcing herself, and giving him a gentle verbal nudge. The fabric is plastered against the length of back, the fabric cold and wet, with little discernable heat coming off of the body beneath it. Looking up, Paul blinks, registering her presence, but not the hint. "You okay?" Shenner queries, her voice perfectly normal, though her eyes are tender of gaze, darker than usual in her pale moonlit face. "Mmmm," he confirms in a small affirmative murmur, catching up his stuff and rising. Another more violent shiver wracks him, which seems to surprise Paul. He begins to head toward the town under his own volition now. When he was in the water, he hadn't noticed the cold, but now it is increasing apparent to Paul. "S'cold," he mumbles. The young redhead immediately falls into step by the Corellian, fighting down an urge to draw his arm over her shoulder; as long as he's moving under his own power, she resolves not to bruise his ego. "I know," she answers. "Walk'll warm yah up a bit, do you wanna find a place to sleep for the night, or go back up to the ship?" Stumbling along in the un-eveness of the sand, Paul restrains himself from chattering. "I dunno," he admits, not being able to think too clearly on that point, the cold becoming increasingly harder to ignore. Shen's mind, still in its odd intuitive flow, takes no time in giving her the decision that she has to Handle This. "Well," she says, "let's head back to the starport, and if we see anything we like, we can stop for the night, say." _Or if you start wobblin' and just can't make it back to the shuttle, but you don't need to hear that..._ She flicks a hand off towards the east, while keeping the other within very close range of Paul's arm. Just in case. His pace isn't exactly regular, or consistently steady, but Paul doesn't seem to be in danger of toppling over. His eyes, however, have gotten a somewhat distant look about them, as focusing on getting to wherever it is that they are going ... and getting warm ... has become is first priority. He is clearly shaking now as he manages to get off of the beach. Paul_Nighman leaves the beach behind and heads back into the city. Paul_Nighman has left. [Paul and Shenner head back through the city....] You walk into Fountain Square. Fountain Square - Plaxton City The huge buildings in the background threaten to take over this small patch of green. A stone fountain--left over from another time--sits in the center of the square. It depicts a young woman looking into the sky. Water flares around her and bursts into a star pattern ten feet above her head. The inscription at the base of the fountain is written in the aging language of a more romantic time. 'Fare well, for all journeys that leave from this place shall always return to call it home.' The night sky above is full of clouds with light rain coming down. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Galactic Bank ATM -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Paul_Nighman => IGNews Terminal - Caspar(#5284L) => Caspar News Service => Mail Terminal: Caspar -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- outh leads to South Mergansar Ave. - Plaxton City. ast leads to East Blake St. - Plaxton City. orth leads to North Mergansar Ave. - Plaxton City. est leads to West Blake St. - Plaxton City. On through the streets, then, heading back east towards the starport. Shen scans her surroundings as she goes, keeping an eye out for anyplace that looks like a good stopping point, but the bulk of her attention remains with the man at her side. She can feel a lump in her throat at the thought that he felt compelled to not only get drunk, to not only do it with an entire bottle of brandy, but to _also_ run around planetside in _this_ kind of weather.... and she can't quite manage to silence the small plaintive voice at the back of her mind wondering _Was it something I did?_ The rain lightly falling now brings another harsh shiver to Paul's frame, his teeth grinding together as he tries to move faster, his arms and legs feeling oddly numb and heavy. "I'm freezing," he growls plaintively, a sound both annoyed and dismayed. Paul_Nighman walks to the south. Paul_Nighman has left. You walk south, down Mergansar Ave. South Mergansar Ave. - Plaxton City The newest section of town, South Mergansar Avenue spills into a mass of buildings and forest intertwined. Speeders slow down, then make the turn into the Starport's parking tunnel, and tourists mill about, trying to decide on where to go first. An arm of the bluff that encircles the city ends here, wrapping around the military base to the south, marked by an old stone arch anchoring a hi-tech laser fence. The huge factory of SubPro's Prothrust Division lies upon the rocky soil, facing the Starport, and its corporate flags flutter in the gentle breeze that sweeps down the street. The night sky above is heavy with rain cloudy that shower down drenching the area. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Paul_Nighman => VEHICLE: Syncoen Swoop 1002 -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- outh leads to Virabluff Yards - Trinumvira Base. est leads to Corporate Lobby - SubPro-ProThrust Factory. ast leads to Concourse - Union Starport. orth leads to Fountain Square - Plaxton City. Shen has no problem keeping up with her companion, and she says only, "I know... just a bit farther. We'll get a shuttle." You move quickly into the spaceport. Concourse - Union Starport The throng buzzes about this modern complex, a mix of travelers, tourists, merchants, and citizens. An array of tiers encircle a busy floor, each tier hosting a different kiosk or bureau that offers information, services, traveling necessities, or souveniers. In the center of the complex, a huge post supports four immense databoards, giving a constantly updated listing of arrivals and departures. The air is crisp, and the skylights give this place a very airy, open look. The tiers have foliage planted on their borders and railings, and the greens, blues, and grays of the fibrous walls and floor gives the structure a very natural, forest atmosphere. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => BOOTH: Cham's Fortunes and Variety -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ast leads to Landing Pad - Union Starport. own the tunnel leads to Merchant Operations Center - Union Starport. est leads to South Mergansar Ave. - Plaxton City. Paul_Nighman enters into the main concourse from the road. Paul_Nighman has arrived. There is a disconsolate undiscernable growl of a response, the Corellian catching himself as he half trips, moving on nonetheless. Paul_Nighman heads down one of the corridors towards the flightline. Paul_Nighman has left. You leave the complex and walk out onto the flightline. Landing Pad - Union Starport Slightly sunken down into the rocky ground, the paved flightline that is the landing pad is crammed with ships of a variety of types. Eight towering, oddly-shaped structures encircle the tarmac, serving as light towers and static dissipaters, but their markings and carvings in their metallic skin hint at a different original purpose. The dense forest crowds in on the rim of the clearing, and some foliage creeps over the stoney edge and hangs down like drapes. A row of hangers lie agape under the windows of the Starport Complex, and techs on hoversleds constantly push ships in and out of them. Near the exit which leads into the city, a sign is secured to one wall, separated from the rest of the notices placed in the area. OOC Note1: Type INSPECT NOTICE to read the Immigration Notice. OOC Note2: Type RECALL SHUTTLE to call the insystem shuttle to this location. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Paul_Nighman => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CCS K'nak-Ve => STARFIGHTER: Ghtroc Class 720 Freighter -- Chui Ieusi => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CFS Kalinin => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- Swiftwind => CAPITAL: Corellian Corvette -- Avatar => starport computer => Transport Panel => Trade Panel: Caspar -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- est leads to Concourse - Union Starport. The Olumekar comes in for a landing and powers down it's engines. Out of the rain, at least...! Shen, too, is more than wet by now after that jaunt through the rain, but Shen, at least, is sober; her body heat hasn't been leeched off by any alcohol. She feels a surge of relief as the shuttle lands, and points at it, encouraging Paul, "There...!" Standing there, the bay fairly empty at this late hour, Paul wraps his arms about himself, shaking in earnest. When the shuttle arrives, he stumbles toward it, slapping the entrance lock. Paul_Nighman has left. Paul_Nighman walks up the ramp of the Olumekar. [The shuttle doesn't take long to return Paul and Shenner up to the station, much to Shenner's relief. She and Paul hasten back onto the _Hawk's Wing_....] Main Ring -- Quasar Bolt(#6524RVat) This is the main area of the ship and obviously serves multiple purposes. The entrance is open and airy, with several couches and a table. It is designed to be an area for passengers and the occasional crew to lounge in. There is a computer terminal available in one corner. To the right, sectioned off slightly, is a kitchen area, well stocked with the latest in cooking equipment as well as a fine assortment of food. Off to the back of the entrance space is a walled off crew quarters section. To save space, the bunks are folded up into the wall space and can be pulled down at will. There is a storage unit available for personal belongings next to each bunk compartment. There is a door visible, leading off to the right next to the kitchen, but it is locked. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Paul_Nighman => Captain's Quarters -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- leads to Level 4 -Landing Pad-. ft leads to Cargo Hold -- Quasar Bolt. ore leads to Cockpit -- Quasar Bolt. Shenner enters Main Ring -- Quasar Bolt At _last_. Shen hastens onto the _'Wing_, taking a moment to secure the hatch behind her. Then, she turns towards Paul, anxiously, hoping he's already en route to some dry clothes. As the heat of the craft begins to penetrate, the shaking becomes convulsive as Paul's body tries to adjust, the difference now heightened, aggravating his system. "Frack," he curses under his breath, slamming into the doorway on his way toward the captain's quarters. Paul_Nighman has left. Paul_Nighman enters into the Captain's quarters You enter into the Captain's quarters. Captain's Quarters Unlike the rest of the ship, this room is extremely cluttered with books, papers, computer equipment, and many artifacts and pieces of art from different cultures. In the corner stands a Viol, and a guitar rests in it's case not too far from it. The rest of the ship is clean and efficient looking, but this room is somehow cosier for all it's mess and confusion. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Paul_Nighman "Ah, hell," Shen mutters, darting into the room after Paul. _Warm, gotta get him warm...!_ With trembling hands and blank eyes he begins to peel off the sodden clothes, dropping them in a pile as he struggles out of them. He continually curses under his breath, a regular plethora of different languages, their commentary unrecognizable, but at times colorful. Again, he may be drunk, but he's not stupid. Heading toward the bathroom, Paul turns on the refresher, waiting until it is warm, heading toward hot, before stepping under the stream. _Good...!_ Irrationally relieved beyond expression for a few moments, Shen just stands there grinning, before she remembers: she'd promised cocoa. Pleased that Paul's tending to his own immediate needs, she decides to hit the secondary ones. Sodden clothes, both his _and_ hers, are tossed into the clothes bin, and she gets Paul's robe out and waiting for him while bundling herself into hers. Then, off for that promised cocoa. Standing under the spray, though it feels like needles piercing his skin at first, Paul waits until he can feel again, and then until he feels not only warm, but actively hot. Turning off the spray, he makes his way out, his legs feeling weak now. He pulls on the robe and rubs at his hair half heartedly before giving up, dropping the towel to the floor. He sits heavily on the bed, then tips over, laying down on his side, the liquor and the cold and the heat all combining unpleasantly, making his stomach roil in protest. Paul_Nighman Clothed in nothing more than a rich forest colored robe, Paul's eyes seem more golden green than hazel. Strong calves are half covered by the length of it, a sash holding it closed at his waist, the neck opening up to about half way down his torso. Shen comes back with the cocoa in short order, a mug in each hand, and she quirks her head as she finds Paul on the bed upon her return. She settles down on the side of it, next to him, looking first at his expression, then at the mugs she's brought, and at Paul's face once more. "Hrmm. You want this?" she asks. Opening one eye, Paul considers the mug for a moment before pressing heavily with his arms, rising up. He takes the mug, staring at its contents for a moment. In a matter of fact voice that is less than enthused, he comments, "I feel terrible," before taking a sip of the heated liquid. "Drink slow," Shen advises. "Or you'll burn your mouth." Her eyes gentling again, she pulls her legs up onto the bed, her own mug in one hand, her other coming over to rest upon Paul's side. He blows on the hot contents before sipping carefully once again, ruminating over the nights events with no small measure of internal chagrin. "Sorry," he mumbles after another frowning taste. Her slender hand starts a slow track along to what she can reach of Paul's back, from where she sits. And dark red eyebrows go up. "It's okay," she replies, cracking a grin. "Seems like I was about due for another session of this. But I don't mind." Her eyes soften further. "Never have." That doesn't go over well. The muscles of Paul's back go tense under her hand, stiffening as Paul places the mug down on a nearby table, staring at it hard. "Well, I -do-" he growls tersely. His eyes shift sideways, glancing at the girl before latching back onto the mug. He lifts it, almost reluctantly, bringing it to his lips and taking another swallow. A small grimace can be seen crossing Shen's face, but, perhaps unexpectedly, she doesn't wince or cringe. "I'm sorry," she says simply, meaning it, her voice soft... but firm, not wavering. She stops her stroking, but her hand stays where it is. "No," he rasps in annoyance ... "I'm the one who's sorry ... and who must look like a sorry excuse of a soul ... "due for another session," he quotes her, "like I'm some sort of incompetent who performs like clockwork." He frowns, putting the mug down carefully because he feels like throwing it. "This isn't how my life goes ... I do stupid things, usually in private, and nobody is the wiser except me when I wake up the next morning." The frown has deepened into a scowl. "Oh, Paul..." Shen mentally rolls her eyes, and just _barely_ manages to keep herself from physically doing so, as she asks over her own mug, _How... Corellian of you!_ "So am I not supposed to be seeing you do stupid things?" she asks, utterly earnestly. Getting up at that comment, Paul swipes at the mug, walking off to the kitchen commenting, "They didn't used to be stupid ... the didn't bother me so much when you weren't around to see them .... now every time you come along and rescue me or learn that something happened ... something that normally isn't a big deal, well suddenly I feel like an A, Number One Idiot ... like some irresponsible child!" The door panel opens as if fearful of his temper, and the Corellian sweeps through, keeping his balance out of sheer determination not to look even more the fool. Paul_Nighman exits from the Captain's quarters. Paul_Nighman enters into the Captain's quarters Re-entering the room, the mug still in his hand, Paul walks back over to the bed, sitting down again and taking a deep swallow. In addition to the mug he holds a large glass of some reddish orange looking juice. Finishing the cocoa, he places the mug down on the table. He takes a deep draught from the glass, knocking back about half of it. Shenner is still on the bed, having waited patiently for Paul's return, taking the time to finish off her own cocoa. Her mug's sitting beside the bed now, and she's drawn a knee up to her chest, wrapping her green-robed arms around it. When he rejoins her, she says softly, "If it helps... I don't think you're stupid. Or childish. I..." She draws in a sigh, then plunges ahead, emboldened now where she might have once held back. "I know you usually do stuff like this, well, when you're upset, and you've had a lotta stuff to be upset about ever since we met again... and I wish I could figure out some magic thing to do or say that could fix it, 'cause I hate seein' you upset. Ain't figured it out yet though." She smiles weakly. "Till then, least I can do is make you cocoa." Denying her claims, Paul reiterates, "I'm not upset ... at you ... I thought that having something to drink might help me to sleep, and it just got away from me, that's all." Casting her an earnest look, he adds truthfully, "The insomnia is old hat ... comes and goes ... I'm just stuck with it till it runs its course." There is, however, another reflective moment when honesty catches up with Paul, forcing him to add, "There's nothing you can do to fix me Shen ... if I'm broken, it's my own fault and my own problem, not yours." The words are blunt, but the tone is soft, almost resigned. "I didn't say fix 'you', I said fix 'it,'" Shenner corrects, leaning towards Paul, lifting a hand to his cheek and turning his face towards her. His golden-green gaze considers hers a touch uncomfortably, but he doesn't pull away from her hand. "It .... me .... what's the difference?" he croaks softly, not seeing any himself. It feels to Shenner as though she has stepped into some sort of bizarre mirror universe... where _Paul_ is the one in need of comfort, and _she_ is the strong one, the one to give the shoulder to lean on, the protective embrace in which to take refuge. She's been on this side of the mirror before... but never quite like this, and fleetingly, she wonders if Paul is aware of the reversal of their roles tonight. She studies his features deeply for a few moments, then murmurs, "Just because somethin' crappy happens to you doesn't mean _you're_ broken. Paul... " And she swallows a moment, hesitating, but only for that brief moment. She's already on the bridge, why not continue? "... k'chaiya. When are you gonna learn the same thing you taught me?" Staring at her strangely, Paul remains mute. His eyes reflect his thoughts - disseminating what she has said, picking it apart, and yet clearly unable to pattern his advice on himself, his features non-comprehending. _Of course it's his fault ... of course he's the one that's broken .... that's the way it's -always- been_ he reiterates, the memories there as evidence. _If he wasn't the flaw, then the same patterns wouldn't keep happening over and over and over again_ he rationalizes logically. She doesn't consciously think _I knew it!_ -- but there is a kind of sudden knowing in her, a realization that she's hit something, and hard. Her eyes go limpid, and she reaches her other hand up to frame Paul's face in her palms. The girl's expression goes graver, but surer, and she pulls herself up slightly to place a reverent kiss on the Corellian's brow. "You're just as worthy of love as anybody else in this galaxy," she tells him huskily. And then she smiles, just a little, more in her eyes than at her mouth. "Now c'mere and lemme give you that backrub I promised." There is a hard swallow, then another, the prick in his throat sharp. If it were not for a very determined amount of control surging from hidden reserves in the Corellian, that sharp stab just might have brought tears to the man's eyes. Instead he blinks, his face held gently captive by her fingers and her assertions. His first thought is not very articulate - more an emotive reaction than actual words, but it is close to "no I'm not". There is a brief struggle where emotion tussles with logic, each side cancelling out the other effectively ... for no matter how much he may -know- something, if he doesn't -believe- it as well ... Turning in her grasp, Paul offers Shen his back, not feeling capable of saying anything either way right now. He only feels enormously tired. She doesn't seem to expect anything to be vocalized; Shen only smiles a little, and moves her hands around first to take Paul's juice glass and set it aside. Then those hands gently nudge him to lie down. Pulling a pillow close, burying his face in its soft plushness, Paul wraps his arm about it, laying down at Shen's subtle insistence. He drags one green enrobed arm across his face, wiping away a touch of moisture. The remains of the internal battle. Deftly, then, Shen straddles her beloved, resting her weight on her knees rather than Paul's own form. The heels of her hands start at the small of his back, kneading in steadily through the thick fabric of his robe to reach the muscles underneath. This, too, is a place she's been in before -- dealing tender ministrations to this Corellian; but this time, too, it's different, for he knows what's going on. Perhaps it's for that reason... and perhaps simply because she wants to... that Shenner sets about her task with the same kind of caring benediction he's shown in contact to her. Her hands fall into a rhythm of working out stress and strain from the muscles beneath them... to be followed by her touch lightening, moving in gentle circles, as if she intends to relay through her palms her joy in simply touching the man she loves. Allowing his eyes to flutter shut, Paul absorbs the the sensations of fabric against flesh, hands pressing into muscle, soul reaching out to soul. He is not insensate to the care with which those fingers touch and stroke - the strength couched in gentleness, the love clothed in caring. Deeper even breathing and the occasional sigh of release reward her efforts. Shen smiles to herself, and can't help but begin to hum, soothing, wordless little ripples of melody flowing out of her every so often, a descant to her physical contact. She takes her time, working up Paul's back without missing an inch, up along his spine, between his shoulderblades, up to the shoulders themselves. More time is spent on his neck, and finally, with fingertips instead of palms doing the most delicate of massages, up into sandy shaggy hair. The head buries deeper with a sigh. The dampened hair is darker than usual, stained by the water. There is still, however, the scent of salt and ocean in it, despite the sluicing of the shower. For awhile he remains that way, but then Paul's face raises, turning. His body twists beneath hers, shifting to its side so that he can look up at her, his eyes dark with emotion. His movement startles her, but not much; perfectly at ease to allow this if he hasn't actually gone to sleep yet, Shenner goes with it, lifting herself up slightly so he can indeed turn over. And she keeps a hand lingering, brushing little tendrils of hair back from his forehead, as she meets his gaze with her own. There's absolutely no hesitation in her expression, only a subtle shine to her eyes, and a hint of a smile playing about her mouth. Staring at Shen hard for a little while, Paul's hands move of their own volition, one curling about her back, the other her neck, both of them drawing her down. He pulls her down to him, dropping her head next to his, his arms wrapping around her almost convulsively. "I love you Shenneret," he whispers against her hair. Her smile blossoms into greater size, and she willingly descends into Paul's embrace, cuddling up close and warm against his chest. And she breathes in reply, just as softly, "I love you too, Paul." [End log.]