Log Date:
	9/11/97, 9/12/97

Log Cast:
	Shenneret Veery, Paul Nighman

Log Intro:
	On Kichnar Station, Paul and Shenner have dropped off their
passengers -- the Horansi Kuxli and the young Corellian, Shikh, who Paul
has discovered is apparently a rival for Shenner's affections -- and have
made contact with Dane Noth in preparation for their coming trip to
Mandalore. But that contact was made during an evening of dinner and
dancing Paul had promised to Shenner, in the Keepon Casino. And there,
much to Shenner's astonishment, Paul got quite jealous when a handsome
young man, Jase Millikin, asked her to dance; Shenner herself was quite
flattened when Jase told her it was obvious that she was smitten with
Paul, and that she shouldn't delay too long before she told Paul how she
felt about him.
	Stunned both by Jase and Paul's behavior, Shenner told Paul what
Jase had told her -- and much to her amazement and delight, the rest of
the night passed for her and Paul in a whirl of dance and romance. Her
amazement continued when she awoke the next morning to discover that Paul
had made her breakfast in bed... and that Paul himself seemed strangely
changed, calling her endearments he'd never uttered before, and apparently
unable to keep his hands off her.
	The two of them spent the entire day in one another's arms, wiling
away the hours with conversation and with Paul's reading to Shen a book
which had shaped his life. Profoundly moved by the powerful story, especially
by the death of its protagonist -- in whose role she'd kept casting Paul --
Shenner pleaded with Paul to make love with her again. As he did, the two
of them found themselves confessing, at last, that they loved one 
another.
	And when they awaken again....

----------
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.

By the time she awakens again, the candles have all burned out, and the room 
  is dark and still, lit only by the pale illumination of the chrono and this 
  and that other small gadget here and there. But all that exists in Shenner's 
  consciousness, as she jerks awake with a tiny, startled gasp, is the memory 
  of what occurred between her and Paul. She shifts where she lies, barely 
  daring to breathe as she lifts her head and stares in astonishment and 
  wonder at his face.

The day spent in idle pleasure has allowed the stubble to yet again reclaim 
  Paul's jaw. The Corellian is resting peacefully, the blanket crossing over 
  his torso on a diagonal as he sleeps on his back, one arm over his head and 
  the other at his side.

_I said it... I can't believe I said it... but he asked... so it was okay... 
  right?_ is the first thought that crosses Shenner's mind. The next is the 
  memory of what Paul had said in response to her whispered Corellian words; a 
  lump rising in her throat, her eyes growing slightly teary, she gazes at him 
  in even deeper wonder. She raises her palm to his cheek, her touch reverent. 
  _He said..._ The thought doesn't finish, but the memory rings as clearly in 
  her mind as if she were watching a holo of it.

Her touch, perhaps her thoughts, cause a ripple effect in Paul, his face 
  shifting to one side, a soft murmur breaking the silence of the room. His 
  eyes flicker open then, staring blindly in the dark for a moment until they 
  adjust. Turning, his gaze catches Shen's form leaning over him. He can 
  scarcely tell it's her ... her features obscured in the darkness and by the 
  drape of her ever growing hair. He reaches up with one hand, touching her 
  cheek, capturing her jaw in his palm. Memories come back piece by piece ... 
  the morning, the day .... last night. The grip tightens slightly as he 
  breathes softly, "Shen ..."

"Hi," she whispers back, her voice very small, shy. Difficult to read her 
  expression in the soft darkness, but her tone, and the brush of her hand as 
  she slides it up to Paul's forehead, relay more than enough of her current 
  mood. Huskily, she adds, "Hi, Paul..."

Shifting upward, his palm holding her prisoner, Paul closes the gap between 
  them, his mind remembering more than just what was done and said last night. 
  He remembers what came afterward ... after Shen had fallen asleep against 
  him. There had been fears, some recriminations, and the realization that in 
  a day or so they were going to be facing the unknown ... that they would 
  need to talk about this, whether Paul felt comfortable about doing so or 
  not. Kissing Shen, a gentle reassuring pressure against her mouth, Paul 
  draws back, breathing her name again. "Shen .... we have to talk ...."

Her hand strokes through his hair, and she tenderly answers the kiss, though 
  as Paul whispers to her she slows and stops her contact. "Okay..." is all 
  she says, a nervous-sounding little word, and slowly, Shen settles back down 
  against his side.

_She's scared_ Paul realizes with some trepidation. There is a moment before 
  it dawns on him, _I'm scared_ He pulls her close to him, wrapping an arm 
  around her and trying to figure out where to start... what to say. His hand 
  strokes through her hair as his voice rumbles out, a touch uncertainly, 
  "Shen ... there's some stuff that I've been thinking about and that we need 
  to talk about ... that I need to tell you. It's kind of jumbled up in my 
  head right now, so I'm going to do my best to get it all out coherently .... 
  so I need you to just be patient with me for a bit ... okay?"

"Okay, Paul," murmurs the girl, curling an arm around him in reply, nodding 
  against the shoulder beneath her head.

Breathing a sigh, the girl's head rising and falling with his chest, Paul drops 
  a light kiss on her brow before continuing. "I want you to know .... what 
  you said to me tonight ... well, I wasn't expecting it. It ... you," and 
  there is another uncertain breath, "Shen, I can't tell you how much you've 
  gotten under my skin. I ... I want you to know that I didn't just say love 
  because of the passion of the moment .... I was on the verge of calling you 
  that all day," he admits huskily. "And yet, I have to tell you that I don't 
  know what it means really. I know how I feel, but it doesn't tell me what is 
  going to happen ... how things are going to work out. I told Serent that I 
  loved her, and look what happened there." He halts again, getting that first 
  rush out and reviewing the words to try and see if they said what he meant 
  before continuing.

_You weren't expecting it?! I didn't mean to tell you yet.._ flashes through 
  her mind. She swallows hard, feeling that lump in her throat grow larger as 
  Paul starts to speak; as he confesses his feelings, she blinks rapidly, 
  feeling more tears well across her eyes, too overwhelmed by a surge 
  something deep and warm and infinitely uplifting through her chest. She 
  manages to keep her composure, though, and again she nods against Paul's 
  shoulder, breathing out, "Okay..."

"I guess what I'm trying to say," he offers in way of summation, "is that 
  regardless of how I feel or how you feel, there is no real guarantees here. 
  Anything could happen. Even if you swore to me now that you would never feel 
  differently, I would have a hard time believing you. Part of it is from 
  Serent, I'll admit, but most of it is because of you and what I can't help 
  but perceive is a my overwhelming influence." There is a tinge of strain, of 
  remorse in his words as Paul continues. "I mean you've never had a chance 
  ... and then I come into your life and give you essentially one choice ... 
  but the world is full of choices that you've never even known about .... and 
  what is to say that when those choices become available to you that you 
  won't want one of them?" Reaching over to the nearby bedstand, Paul picks up 
  the necklace that Shen gave him, staring at it for a moment before allowing 
  it to dangle from his fingers. "You told me when you gave me this that you 
  didn't want to clip my wings. Well, I don't want to stand in your way and I 
  don't want to tie you to me when you haven't even had the chance yet to 
  spread your own wings," he insists in a soft rasp.

The girl is silent all throughout that, listening, her breath a felt rhythm 
  against Paul's form. When he pauses again, it's in a more thoughtful and 
  softer tone that she murmurs, "Alright..."
Shenner asks, patient and nervous all at once, "You got more?"

"Yeah," he admits, "just a bit more. Tomorrow ... today, we're going to 
  Mandalore. Despite all my study and all my research ... regardless of all of 
  my attempts to control this situation, I have no idea what to expect. Luke's 
  ... missing ... " he continues evasively, "and if we find what I think we're 
  going to find, that puts me ... and you ... in a delicate and potentially 
  dangerous position." His hand grips her a little tighter reflexively, 
  recalling the fears that she admited before she rained kisses over him ... 
  before she made everything different all over again. "I'd be lying if I 
  didn't tell you that I'm uncertain ... concerned. I don't know what we're 
  going to be up against, so once we're on our way, no matter what we may be 
  feeling, our relationship needs to be professional. I won't put you at risk 
  by making anyone think they can get to me through you. Once Dane is on 
  board, we're going to have to be a little more careful ... more reserved. I 
  don't like it, but until things are different, that's going to have to be 
  the way things are. When we're alone, well, then we're alone, but otherwise 
  ....."

She goes silent again, listening, nodding through his words, and she squeezes 
  Paul to her, once. But all she says is, softly, "I understand..."

There is another deep sigh, as Paul wraps his other arm about her. "Does it 
  make sense? Did I say it all right?" he asks, unsure whether he is posing 
  the question to Shen or to himself. "I said before that we had to talk ... 
  which means share ideas. I, however, have been doing to brunt of it ..." he 
  murmurs uncertainly, the girl in his arms awfully quiet save for her soft 
  short responses. "Speak to me Shen ... tell me what you're thinking? Above 
  all now, we need to talk to one another ... to be completely honest. I 
  couldn't bear it if I hurt you," he releases on a husky sigh, "in any way 
  ...."

Letting out a long trembling sigh, Shenner hugs Paul close, and confesses, her 
  voice as soft as if she were a child whispering secrets in the face of a 
  thunderstorm, "I... I-I-I never thought I'd be havin' this conversation with 
  you, you know? I... didn't think I would give you... those words, but 
  yesterday..." She pauses, swallowing down that lump that still lingers in 
  her throat. "I feel all scared... and happy... and scared... and happy, over 
  and over. You know?"

"I'm just as surprised," Paul admits, one hand reaching down to tilt Shen's 
  face up to his. "I didn't expect to feel this way .... ever." He drops his 
  mouth over hers, kissing Shen tenderly, murmuring against her lips, "And 
  when did you start learning Corellian?" He cuts off her reply though with 
  another kiss.

Readily, the girl answers that kiss; when she pulls back, she giggles a 
  little, shakily. "Dunno much yet," she murmurs.
And after a moment, Shen goes on, encouraged by their closeness, "I guess.... 
  I guess this is more of, 'just sit back and see what happens', except we 
  kinda gotta be payin' more attention now." Her voice remains soft, husky; if 
  Paul's is Corellian brandy, hers is a pale wine. "And as for Mandalore..." 
  There, though, she pauses.

There's a shift in Paul's eyes, something that was on the tip of his tongue 
  only to be pushed back. "Yeah, we seem to be doing pretty well with that 
  strategy," he agrees. "As for Mandalore ...?" he prompts, hearing a 
  question, but not being able to determine its import.

In a tone that suggests she's preparing to be stoic, but which nevertheless 
  still makes her sound shy, Shen asks, "You want me to sleep in my own tent?"

There is a short pause while Paul objectively weighs all of the pros and cons 
  before he replies, "Nyah ... I think I'd feel more secure with you close ... 
  and it's not uncommon practice for teams to share tents, so it shoudn't 
  garner too much suspicion ... besides," he adds, "we only have one tent in 
  our possession."

To that, Shen murmurs in obvious relief, "Good." She kisses Paul's throat, 
  letting out another soft and shaky breath, her form trembling ever so 
  slightly.

The flesh there pulses in response, a swallow bringing a ripple against her 
  lips. Shifting his grip, Paul lowers Shen to the sheets again, placing a 
  kiss at the corner of her eye, one hand trailing and slipping around her 
  side and beneath her. His eyes flicker over her in the darkness as he takes 
  a moment to simply absorb the moment.

Her hand lifts to Paul's cheek again, finding it in the gloom as though 
  magnetically drawn there; perhaps her palm has become attuned to it, with 
  the way it had explored his face the day before. And she whispers, "My... 
  head's very... full right now, Paul... my... heart, too, I guess. Inside. 
  I..." Her voice begins to roughen, and she fights with it, trying to sound 
  calm. "I don't expect you... us... to do anything in particular. I never 
  thought we would. I never thought I'd hear you say wh... what you did. I..." 
  She trails off, and emits a hoarse giggle, saying plaintively, "Dammit, Paul 
  Nighman, why can't I have a conversation with you without bawlin'?"

Moving her palm to his lips, pressing a kiss there and then smiling at her 
  final wail, Paul cannot help but murmur, "Re to ne teo criat ae' shenti pri 
  craeta k'chaiya." Lowering her hand to the bed, pressing it there by her 
  shoulder, he lowers himself against her, brushing her lips with his own. "If 
  you're so full, then let down your gates love."

At the word 'k'chaiya', Shenner gives a glad, choked little cry. Her face 
  grows progressively wetter, as she throws her free arm around Paul's neck 
  and answers the latest in his lengthening line of kisses. "I" -- a sniffle 
  -- "I looked it up... on Tatooine. The Corellian, I-I mean..."

"What? Something good actually came off of that ball of dust?" Paul teases, 
  drinking Shen's tears with tender kisses and laps of his tongue. The hand at 
  her waist arches Shen's back a little, his other hand delving beneath the 
  dark curls to catch the nape of her neck, urging her closer yet again.

Sniffle, but with a smile. "Whudathunkit...." Twining round Paul like a young 
  vine, Shenner kisses him, is kissed by him, and then draws her lips round to 
  his ear to breathe into it, "K'chaiya...," And she follows that with a kiss 
  behind that ear.

Paul isn't sure which makes him jolt, her voice whispering that tender word 
  ... one that no one has ever said to Paul before, or that kiss, targeting 
  intentionally or not a very errongenous zone on Paul's anatomy. The grip of 
  his hands tighten in response, his original intentions not being to seduce, 
  but merely to comfort ... but if the girl keeps up at this rate ....

The kiss to Paul's ear is followed by Shen's lips tracing down the line of his 
  jaw. Then, she nestles once more against his shoulder, murmuring very 
  softly, sheepishly, "I keep wantin' to talk but, but, I can't think of a 
  damned thing to say...!"

There is a soft cough of a laugh, and Paul drops back onto his side, pulling 
  Shen close in a companionable gesture. "You're speechless, huh? Damn I'm 
  good," he murmurs cockily. "Guess the question would be, which topic are you 
  the most interested in discussing?" That makes Paul wonder for a moment, and 
  shifting Shen against him so he can look her in the face, he murmurs, "You 
  know, you know a lot about me ... more than most, but I don't know if there 
  is anything that you wanted to know about that hasn't come up before? That 
  you didn't think you could ask?"

The question startles Shenner, and she stares back at Paul's shadow-softened 
  features, her eyes just barely visible glimmers in the dimness. And her 
  mouth flashes for a moment, a pale fleeting smile. "Nothin' that's important 
  to talk about here," she answers -- thinking, _No way am I gonna ask him 
  what happened between him and his father, not here, not now...!_ Instead, 
  she asks gently, "You wanna tell me anything?"

Many different topics, pieces of his past and who he is come to mind ... 
  Serent standing tallest amongst those, his relationships with other women 
  coming close on her heels. If he were not as good at covering his emotions 
  when he needs to, he might squirm with discomfort. There are other smaller 
  things ... but none of them seem to be really important or relevant. Despite 
  his continued litany that they need to be honest with one another, Paul lies 
  lightly, "Nothing comes to mind really."

Shenner lets out a very soft giggle. "We're not doin' much talkin', are we?"

"Don't think we'll go down in history as the greatest conversationalists, no" 
  he murmurs in agreement, his thoughts flapping about incessantly. _If you 
  have nothing to talk about -now- what are you going to do in a month? Two 
  months? A year? Who's to say you won't be bored of Shen and the fact that 
  she is eleven years your junior, and even more so in terms of education?_ 
  They are ugly nasty thoughts ... the kinds that you never -want- to think, 
  but that come up nontheless. Perhaps, because like cliche's, they are so 
  often true. _What an honest bugger you are Paul Nighman ... hypocrite!_ 
  Closing his eyes, Paul lies back against the bed, a small thread of worry 
  that his gaze might betray his inner thoughts no matter how practiced his 
  expression might be.

Shenner shifts onto her back, considering, and after a few moments she says, 
  "I guess maybe... after we're done with Mandalore.... I better go to school."

That niggle of worry becomes a fraction stronger. _Now where did she get an 
  idea like -that- one, eh?_ "Oh?," Paul murmurs softly, curiously. "Well, 
  education is always good ... give you more options about what you'd like to 
  do with your life," he offers before realizing that that was -just- what he 
  was talking about ... that she hasn't been exposed to other options ... 
  choices that might make her decide that she'd rather be somewhere else ... 
  or with someone else. After all, it wouldn't be the first time. Paul tries 
  to ignore the acrid taste at the back of his throat.

"I mean," Shen goes on quietly, "if there's anything I'm gettin' outta all 
  this reading I been doin' lately, it's that there _is_ a lot I just don't 
  _know_... and that I _want_ to know..." She rolls over, to look at Paul's 
  face again, her own filling with emotion once more. "Paul, d'you _realize_ 
  how many different ways of makin' music there _are_ in this galaxy?"

The hazel eyes open slowly, gazing up into Shen's face, frowning slightly. Of 
  course he understands that ... he's enjoyed the music of many a culture, but 
  he realizes that everything he knows about is mostly centered on his guitar 
  ... and his repetoire limited to fairly traditional forms of Corellian and 
  the Basic speaking galaxy. What Shen's talking about seems to be something 
  more than that ... something that he's always been aware, even appreciated, 
  but never really considered that deeply before. "Yeah," he breathes, 
  reflecting his sudden realization in that single word.

"I read about this one species...they're like... insectoid, see? So they 
  hatch, and they come out as larvas, before they grow up and be winged," Shen 
  enthuses. "But it's like they can only really think and do stuff while 
  they're larvas 'cause they don't remember a karkin' thing when they're 
  flyers, so they have to do it _all_ before then, and they have so many 
  little legs and things that they can play all _kinds_ of instruments at the 
  same time, you get just one of 'em goin' and you got a whole karkin' 
  band...!"

His gaze never shifts, his mind struggling to catch up with her sudden 
  explosion of energy and thought. "And where did you hear this? When did you 
  find time to learn about these ... what are they? I've never even heard of 
  this insectiod life form ... and why can't they make music when they're 
  winged ... ah, they're not like crickets I gather?" he probes, scrabbling 
  through his mind for insects that make musical sounds ... but of course 
  there is no comparison, he chastises himself, between an insect and an 
  intelligent race. _Wake up Paul_

"What, didja think I was just readin' _Xenoarchaeology 101_ all this time?" 
  Shen asks, teasingly poking the end of Paul's nose, before going on 
  brightly, "They're Ruurians! I ran across 'em on one of the music history 
  discs I got, and so I had to cross-reference 'em, and then I got into just 
  reading about 'em 'cause they weren't like nothin' I'd ever read about 
  before, see?"

_Actually, I did_ Paul replies silently, his eyes still considering Shen with 
  a mixture of puzzlement and surprise. "Uh huh," he murmurs. Her enthusiasm 
  for the subject is akin to his own for archeaology, and Paul suddenly 
  understands why sometimes people just stare at him when he's explaining 
  something to them. And all this time he just thought he had had something 
  caught between his teeth or dropped on his shirt.

Evidently it's not too dark for Shen to see something of Paul's flabbergasted 
  expression, for she giggles, lowering her head to touch her brow to his. "I 
  been studying _lots_ of stuff," she confides triumphantly.

"I can see that I've underestimated you," Paul murmurs with a small smile 
  beginning to curl his lips. "Well, you should talk to Molari when we get 
  back ... he doesn't study much of current xenomusicology, but he has done a 
  lot of work on the influences of cultural developments, like music and the 
  arts, on primitive and developing cultures. He might be able to recommend a 
  good program somewhere."

Grinning again widely at the praise, Shen answers, "I will!" Then, 
  impulsively, she burrows down next to the man beside once more, asking in a 
  tone both eager and scared, "Oh, Paul, you think I could get into a school? 
  I ain't never set foot in a school in my life! I mean... at least, not to 
  learn stuff...!'

Wrapping his arms around a far more familar Shen than the one just talking to 
  him, Paul gives her a quick hug. "You'll have to pass an entrance exam ... 
  but I think with some tutoring you could handle it. You already have a 
  handle on research ... more than most kids today heading into the 
  Universities." Tucking her head against his shoulder, Paul allows his eyes 
  to drift closed again. "Course, it doesn't hurt to know a few key placed 
  professors and department heads," Paul baits playfully.

The girl gives another small giggle, returning the hug, though there's a 
  measure of trepidation to her contact. "D'you know somethin'....? Know what 
  I want?"

_She's going to tell me? She actually has an answer?_ Paul starts, his eyes 
  opening. It seems to the Corellian that he has asked, badgered, and cajoled 
  Shen for an answer to just that question forever now, and here she is, now, 
  finally bring it up herself? With a touch of wonder and curiousity, Paul 
  murmurs to the redhead against his side, "No, what do you want Shen?"

She does not answer immediately; rather, she takes a few moments, perhaps 
  thinking of her words, before she breathes out a low and almost dreamy 
  reply. "I want... to go to a school... and learn about how everybody in the 
  galaxy makes music. Now, and before -- history, too! And more about stars. I 
  wanna learn how to fly a ship... and then I want to go _see_ how everybody 
  in the galaxy makes music... and make my music, too!" The girl pauses, 
  before finishing tenderly, "And... every day, I wanna come and tell you 
  something that you don't know!"

_Does she realize how her life choices and mine are already going to separate 
  us?_ He doesn't voice this thought, not wishing to dampen her enthusiasm for 
  anything in the world. Hopes and dreams are fragile enough things without 
  having someone toss heavy doubts and consequences on top of them. His 
  fingers circling and tracing patterns on the curve of her shoulder, Paul 
  rumbles, "Sounds like a Xenoethnomusicologist was just born .... sounds 
  great. I look forward to staring at you blankly every time you tell me 
  something I don't know," he assures, avoiding the timing reference of said 
  "days".

Even as that rumble reaches her, something shifts in the girl's form, a subtle 
  change of her mood. "Except.... oh, Paul, you couldn't be there when I'm in 
  a school, 'cause you gotta do archaeologist stuff," Shenner murmurs, hugging 
  him tightly. The mere thought makes her throat threaten to close up. 
  "It's... it's you, and I _gotta_ go to a school 'cause I just _have_ to know 
  these things... dammit, Paul, I-I miss you already...." Her hug tightens, 
  fiercely.

The hand at her shoulder remains soothing, stroking along the length of her 
  arm and back now, leaning his head against her's. "See, I told you that 
  there's a whole world of choices there for you," he teases lightly at first. 
  Then his voice grows more somber and rubbing against her he gently assures, 
  "It's alright ... I want you to go to school ... or do whatever it is that 
  is important to you. Like I said before, you have to fly around some. 
  There's plenty of time to stop and roost later."

"_You're_ important to me," Shenner whispers.

Raising up on one elbow, Paul presses Shen back down against the bed's giving 
  surface. "I know," he murmurs, his head dipping to allow his mouth to drift 
  over her throat, her chin. "You're important to me too ... which means that 
  doing right by you ... even if that means we have to be apart, is even more 
  important."

She makes a small distressed noise at the word 'apart', her arms lifting to 
  curl about Paul. Inhaling slowly at what he does with his mouth, she lets 
  that breath out again on a quiet plea: "Can we.... I mean... one more time? 
  Before we have to go?"

His mouth continues to drift across the flesh of her neck, skimming her 
  jawline, breathing lightly across her ear, tracing over her brow, sliding 
  down the slope of her nose, and settling against her mouth, finally landing 
  with a firm and demanding pressure. Parting Shen's lips, Paul steals her 
  breath ruthlessly before finally raising his head. Slitted hazel eyes greet 
  Shen's hazy emerald. "I'm sure we can make some kind of arrangement ..." he 
  drawls before dipping once more.

[End log.]