Log Date: 9/23/98 Log Cast: Troy McTavish, Shenneret Veery, Jeanette Setzer, Ariani (NPC), Jairen, Jeff Boesch, Mineyur, Tracer, Tarlin, Rabid, Mizaree, Paul Nighman, Stalh, Aerilaya, Selektah, Ozzle, Webb, Savanin, Haan Log Intro: There's been a bright spot in Shenner's otherwise headache-inducing life in the last couple of days -- the unexpected appearance of Jessalyn Valios in the Sandbar. Anxious to see Jessalyn again, Shen has kept an anxious eye out for the older woman but so far hasn't managed to spot her either in the Sandbar or outside it. Thus, she must content herself with her ongoing studies... and the attempt to avoid too much male attention, even with the band departed on vacation and Rekkie's house entrusted to her care... ---------- Troy enters the Bar, Puffs on his Cigar. And then strolls over to the bar. It must be the band's night off, for tonight, the background music is unobtrusive stuff piped over the Sandbar's sound system. Not far from the bar, Shenner nevertheless is on hand, an assortment of data discs and her inevitable datapad and books before her spread out on a tabletop she's claimed for herself. Troy bellies up to the Bar. Looks Around. Seeing its a slow night, he see's the Lady from the night before. Wanders over "Hello again....yeah seem bizzy..and yeah seem like you could use a break." Shenner, without looking up from the sizeable textbook which seems to be occupying her attention, can be seen to grimace. She rubs a hand across her eyes, _then_ looks up, swinging her gaze around to see where the voice is coming from. "You talkin' to me?" she demands gruffly. Troy Not Paying much attention to The Gruffness of the voice he swing a chair around and pulls up a seat "aye lass, I'm talk'n to yeah.. Yee look like you could use a Break from the studing you yours." Jeanette enters the Sandbar. Jeanette has arrived. D2-P15(Toopee) enters the Sandbar. The rather famous Jeanette Setzer strolls into the Sandbar casually, looking for someone. Her hands are at her side as she gazes about the room. At the table she's claimed along with her books, her datapad, and her discs, Shenner might be spotted glaring at Troy. The young redhead _does_ look rather worn around the edges. She does not, however, admit to this. Shen _does_ eye the newcomer before her, her tone still gruff as she informs him bluntly, "If Ariani sent you over here to get on my case, don't bother. I'm not done with this chapter yet, pal, and I ain't movin' till I finish it." Troy Is sitting on a chair bugging SHenner Troy smiles "Nay, Ariani did not send me over...But Yea sure now you don't need a drink. I'll buy the coffee if need be." Jeanette spots Troy quickly, noticing him hitting on poor Shenner. Slowly the Other red head approaches Troy. Obviously wanting something. Coffee. That word seems to get in under Shenner's prickly exterior somehow, and with slightly more favor in her worn visage, she considers the man, and finally she says shortly, "I get drinks free here, pal. You don't have to buy me anything." Troy still being as friendly has he is "Aye, but it always taste better when somebody buys it for yeah..don't yeah think.." He then notice Jeanette Strolling his way "Good day MS Setzer.." Jeanette nods, "evening McTavish. I was told I could find you here." The dainty red head smiles warmly and places her arm around Troy, "I'm in need of your services." her eyes narrow. Shenner hasn't yet returned her green gaze to the textbook propped between her and the table; she's still eying Troy warily. Finally, though, she rolls her slender shoulders in a shrug and says, "Knock yourself out, buddy, I don't refuse free anything. I like it black, with a little sweetener." She glances at Jeanette, seemingly impassively, then promptly returns her attention to her textbook. Jairen steps in the door, hands resting on his sword hilt lightly. Stopping a few feet in, he looks around the room before actually going anywhere. Shenner might be noted to be occupying a table not far from the bar; Troy has pulled a chair up to it, but the man has turned to greet Jeanette, while Shenner is pointedly studying the textbook she's got propped between her and the table. Troy Blushes at the Jeanette's placing her are around him "Lass, if'n yeah talk like that people are gonna get the wrong impression..." Then with a nod Tells Araini to bring over a pot of Coffee tosses Gives her a few creds. Then to SHenner "well it looks like i'll not be able to enjoy one of our warm talks..but enjoy the coffee." He then stands up and turns to Jen "So lass what can i do'yeah for." Shenner mutters something that might, just might, be a "thanks" in Troy's general direction. She does not, however, look up. Seeming pleased with the contents of the room, the swordsman steps further into it, heading towards the bar at an unhurried pace. Oddly enough, he makes no sound as he moves across the floor and passes patrons. Jeanette removes her arm and asks, "I need a ride on out to Tatooine." she smiles, her red lips parting. Troy still with a little Red in his Checks "Well then lass, we should get yeah on your way then..I Try and never disappoint a lady." Offers an arm. Jeanette blantanly ignores the offer, "Ok, lets go." she says with some authority. She turns to her droid who is conversing with one of the Drink serving Droids, "Toopee, lets hit the void." Jairen nods to Troy and Jeanette as he passes them with a polite, "M'lord, m'lady..." and a nod and continues towards the bar. Jeanette takes D2-P15(Toopee). Troy shruggs, at his polite offer being snubbed..and heads out the door, giving a nod to Jairen and a "Good day to yeah Sir.." Ariani comes back from bringing Shenner that pot of black coffee, just in time to meet up with Jairen, whose order she cheerfully awaits. Shenner, in the meantime, looks up from her textbook long enough to gaze almost longingly at the coffee. The girl falls upon it, pours herself up a mug of it, and inhales half of the contents before returning to her study. Jeanette has left. Troy walks out of the Sandbar and the door closes automatically. Troy has left. Jairen nods to Ariani, speaking his his melodic accent. "A chilled wine please, m'lady." Glances over at Shenner. "Good eve to you." Ariani's eyebrows go up at Jairen's address, and she drawls in pleased tones, "Why, sure...", moving to do as the customer requests. Shen, not looking up, mutters, "Yeah, sure, hiya...". The redheaded girl shakes her head a little, looking as if she's trying to clear it, then as the coffee hits her system slowly begins to look more alert. Jairen smiles slightly, looking over the redhead before him. "May I ask what it is you study so diligantly m'lady?" "Introductory musical theory," is Shenner's curt reply, and an edge and a growl enters her voice as she adds, "And I ain't no lady." Jairen smiles again. "I was merely being polite according to the customs of my people m'lady. You are a musician?" Shen looks up, her brows winging down over her dark green eyes, and she shoots a glare in Jairen's direction. "Look, pal," she says bluntly, "one, I ain't a lady, and two, I ain't _your_ lady, so thanks for the thought and all that, but if you wanna call me somethin', call me somethin' else. Yes. I'm a musician." With that, she locks her gaze back on the book, now frowning darkly. "Ah, come on, Shen, take it easy," Ariani calls over, grinning. "This one, at least, ain't threatening to kiss you." With a look that suggests that the bartender's commentary is _not_ welcome, Shenner glares over at Ariani, and then back down to her book. She can be heard to growl, "Good." Jairen ahs. "I see... perhaps I can assist with your studies then. I know a little of musical theory." Ariani sets Jairen's wine down before him, advising affably, "Don't mind Shen. She's just like that." Shenner looks up again, firing another glare off at Ariani, who replies to it with a guileless smile, and then the redheaded girl turns a grudging stare on Jairen. "How much musical theory?" Jairen seems to make a show of thinking. "Oh, a... few years." "How many cultures' musical systems?" demands Shenner, apparently unimpressed thus far. "Any non-humanoid?" "Regrettably," Jairen states, "not as many as I would like, and unfortuntately non non-humanoid cultures. Naturally, I am most well versed in my own culture's." Jairen Jairen stands about 5'7" tall and has long, sliverish colored hair that comes down to about the middle of his back and is usually worn in a pony tail with a silver clasp. His body, though small, is obviously almost completely muscle. He moves gracefully, almost seeming to glide over the ground, leaving hardly any trace at all as he steps. His eyes are a piercing blue color. They are more almond shaped than perfectly round and seem to have a slight slant to them. The tips of his ears also seem to have a slight point to them, but that could be just a trick of the light. He wears rather simple fair, a dark green tunic with a brown leather vest designed to stop knives and such. His brown trousers are made of some sort of leather-ish material, and he wears soft black leather kneeboots that fold down at the top. On his left hip is an intracate blade in a scabbard suspended in a baldric. The rapier-like weapon has a swept basket hilt that is ornately carved with scences from what seem to be some sort of story or fairy tale. The blade, when seen, also has ornate engravings in some odd language. On his other hip is strapped a sharp vibro-dagger, perhaps about eight inches long. It is rather plain and unadorned. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Protective Vest => Sword => Vibro-Knife -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => muldes Shenner's eyes narrow consideringly, and she glances from the young male to her book and back again. She then grabs her coffee mug, drains the rest of its contents, and then sets both mug and book aside. "Okay," she says in slightly less short tones, "I'm listenin'." "What do you wish to know?" comes the first, simple question from the 'young male'. "Tell me about diminished seventh chords," says Shenner. Is that challenge in her tone? Jairen says, "Would that be the seventh chord that is naturally diminished in the major tonality, or a diminished seventh chord that is a diminished chord with a diminished seventh on top of it?" _That_ seems to give Shenner a bit of pause. Something of the annoyance laves her face, though none of the gruffness, not yet. "S'pose you tell me about both of 'em," she answers, "and how much composers wherever it is you come from employ 'em." Jairen pauses long enough to take a drink. "Well, the first is simply a naturally occuring triad in a scale based on the leading tone of the major tonality. It pulls strongest towards the tonic, though has been known to go other places. Of the other kind, there are two separate kinds, a fully dimished seventh chord where the root chord is diminished and the seventh is a diminished, and a diminished minor where the root chord is diminished and the seventh is a minor seventh...." pauses again. Jairen continues. "The fully diminished seventh is an oddity as it can be rolled over and over itself, causing there to actually be only... I believe it is three true variations of the chord, though I admit I forget what those are based on." Jairen says, "As for how often they are used in my culture... it varies greatly with the age and style of the composition." Shenner turns slightly in her chair, her attention apparently now seized enough that she's willing to look directly at this individual who appears to have some idea of what he's talking about. "We talkin' a culture that's been around long enough to diverge its musical traditions within itself? How much offworld influence?" She fires off the questions in the same brusque tones she's been using before, but there's a subtle difference coming into her face, a slight lightening to her eyes: interest. Jairen says, "No offworld influence." The girl's eyebrows go up. "Y'all don't go in for offworld music?" Jairen says, "My people were very isolated until only recently in our history." Jairen says, "And a great deal of offworld music offends our senses." "What, and you ain't had a single person writing music on your homeworld... oh." She snorts, then, and says bluntly, "What's your problem with offworld music, then? Subject matter? Or you people just got a thing about sentients besides yourselves makin' music?" Jairen chuckles, taking a drink of his wine again. "You must think my people very arrogant if you ask that question. "Damn straight," retorts Shenner to Jairen, her eyes sparking. That's definitely interest in her expression, or perhaps the combativeness of debate. "Music ain't the personal property of _any_ culture. It can't help but die out if you don't let it grow, and how you gonna let it grow if you ain't willing to listen to what anybody else does with it?" Jairen says, "When I state it offends our senses, I mean it offends our senses, and is at times physically painful." Hunter walks into the Sandbar as this is said. He walks towords Jairen and Shenner, "I concur......there seem to be many people who want to destroy music." Shenner's features tauten into something like a frown, half-uncertain, as she looks Jairen up and down. Then, as Hunter's voice reaches her, she shoots a green, narrow-eyed glance up at the arriving individual, just enough to mark his arrival before she tells Jairen, "Well, pal, if it hurts your ears, you better not be in here tomorrow night. We're gonna do "Kessel Run" again, and that ain't exactly sweet dulcet tones, ya know?" Hunter smiles, "Seat taken?" as he lays down his guitar. Jairen shrugs slightly, sipping his wine. "There are some cultures who's music is too harsh or too many dissonances in it for us to physically handle. You see, my people's hearing is much more sensitive than many other races. As a result, our music tends to be very subtle so that most races hearing it, do not truely comprehend it. Shenner's table has empty seats around it; to Hunter, however, she barks roughly, "Yes." Jairen, nearby at the bar, apparently hasn't sought to get any nearer. And to Jairen, she can be seen to smirk. "Yeah? Ever give 'em a decent shot at it?" Jairen shrugs slightly one shouldered again. "Many of the offworlders who do visit our planet find our music to be boring and bland. This shows, however, that they may either have no taste for it, or simply cannot physically hear the undertones of the instraments we use. "Well, so, which is it?" demands Shenner, pouring herself up some more of the coffee, and eying Jairen with a critical regard. "If you're usin' tones that go off the scale of other races' hearing, you oughtta know that." Jairen says, "Depends on the race." Jairen says, "More than not, it is tones that the race cannot hear." "Human, f'rinstance," drawls Shenner, still smirking, as she gulps down the coffee. Jairen hmms for a moment, sipping his wine. "Very few humans have been to my world. However, they have about 80 percent of the tonal hearing range that my people do, at least when it comes to music. However, sometimes the overtones of a piece may confound the listener's ear." "Let's just stick to physical hearing range here, pal." Shenner shoves a few of her data discs out of the way on the tabletop and swings her boots up to perch there, while eying Jairen over the top of her coffee mug. "So what you're tellin' me is, you're goin' out of human hearing range. Down or up or both?" Jairen says, "Both." Jairen says, "But, that is the instraments that do so. The voices, while ranges can be larger than human's, do not pass human hearing limits physically. But, as I said, overtones that are generated by the combination of the instrament and voice are often difficult for a human to sort out." The redheaded musician rolls her eyes a little, thinking, _Geez, it's like herding mooklas..._ But she nods curtly. "Okay, fine, we're gettin' somewhere. So regardless of how well humans or other races tend to clue in to what you're doin', you're also tellin' me" -- and disapproval is glinting in her eyes -- "that _nobody_ on your planet lets _any_ offworld music influence their composition?" Jairen says, "I did not say that. I said until recently in our history." Jairen says, "For until recently, there simply was no outside influence to be had." Shenner puts forth a narrow smile, grunts a noise of assent, and drinks more coffee. Her gaze is still on Jairen, speculatively, but she holds commentary for a bit. Jairen motions towards the man with the guitar. "If the gentleman would allow, I will demonstrate what I can." Shenner flicks a sidelong gaze at the big figure of Hunter, then eyes Jairen again. "I'm listenin'," she acknowledges. Her current mug of coffee goes the way of the previous; she doesn't change her position, though, her feet still up on her table. Jairen waits for acknowlegement of permission to use the instrament. Shenner, as someone's abrupt shout draws Hunter off across the bar, glances after him, and then peers at Jairen. "Hold that thought," she says curtly. Her feet come swinging down to the floor again, and she rises from her seat, stalking back to the back of the establishment. When she comes back, she's carrying a guitar herself, a big instrument that looks a trifle overlarge for her slender hands. Once she's back in range, she presents it and says succintly, "Here." Jairen takes the instrament and looks over it for a moment, making sure that if it has options to do so, it's acustic. He slips the strap over his shoulder and readies it with a fair amount of skill, though it's obvious music isn't the man's first and formost profession. Plucking a few strings, he plays with the tuning knobs for a moment, seeming to take some of the strings WAY out of key before he starts. "Hmmm... not as many strings as there should be, so there might be a few gaps, but I will do as well as I can...." With that, he begins to play. The big guitar, indeed, has a power circuit... but from the look of it can be played quite nicely without it. Shen doesn't sit down, and stands there with arms crossed watching the silver-haired stranger handle her instrument, another kind of wariness in her eyes -- this more like someone wanting to make sure a treasured possession is treated with due respect. The piece he begins to play has very, very subtle dinamics, often not noticable changes until he's gone from piano to nearly forte already. Also, it is very chomatic as he someone manages to coax quarter steps out of the stringed instrament. The pace is fast, and he's not using a pick of any kind, his fingers moving over the strings quickly. Every so often, there is an odd interval where there was one of those missing strings he was talking about. The key sounds moves freely in and out of major, minor, and something inbetween. Shenner's brows are still drawn together, but she watches Jairen's fingers on the guitar strings with growing and very shortly acute interest. It soon becomes apparent that her mood is starting to shift from what appears to be her normal grumpiness towards active respect, and within several measures, her expression becomes raptly absorbed, as she tries to follow the complex melody along. Jairen continues to play the piece for about another 5 minutes or so without slowing down one iota. As he comes to a stop without a ritard of any sort, he looks up to the woman. "That was one of the newer pieces written just before I left my homeworld. It has very little outside influence, but a one or two borrowed ideas do exist in it. It is, however, very typical of my people. If you wish, I can play something that I myself have written since leaving my planet." Shenner, as Jairen finally halts the music, blinks a few times; one side of her mouth curls up into something like a smile, and she says in rather less gruff tones than she'd been using at any point in this conversation, "Yeah. I'd like to hear it." She reaches over to snag a chair, and turns it around backwards before she plops into it. Jairen nods. "As you wish m'lady." He states and plays with the tuning nobs a little more before starting another piece. This one isn't as complex or chromatic as the last one, nor is it as fast. Obviously written by an amature. It also involves more strumming of chords than the last piece did, as well as easily recognised Corellian and Horansi influences on the structure. However, the melodic structure is still very similar to the last piece, as is the odd overtonal harmony that he's somehow able to produce with the instrament as he plays. "Don't call me that," the girl grumbles, but absentmindedly now. Her head tilts slightly; intimately familiar with what her guitar can do, Shenner's ear seizes upon those overtones, blazing them into her brain. At the end of the piece, he unstraps the guitar and hands it back to the woman. "My appologies to taking it out of the key, but it was necessary to play. Also, there were not as many strings as needed to create all the tones that could have been there, as well as some of the resonance lasting a tad longer than would normally be. Shenner takes the instrument with steady hands, though she looks longly at it, and then at the silver-haired fellow who's just done such unusual things with its strings. "Don't worry about it," she says in a tone that might almost be approving. "You're good." Jairen shakes his head. "I have had very little training compared to those of music on my world. Perhaps a third of the time in instructions." Shenner smirks a bit, but perhaps, just perhaps, not unkindly. "Uh huh, well, ain't nobody trained me but me, and maybe it's just my crude human sensibilities talkin', but that was the best damn thing I've heard in a while. Don't let nobody tell ya otherwise. She turns her chair around, settling the guitar in her lap and peering intently at the adjusted tuning. Jairen finishes off his wine and places his hands on his sword hilt again, bowing slightly. "I thank you m'l..." catches himself. "miss. Perhaps someday you will have the opportunity to visit my world and hear the music of the Mystics." Jairen says, "They are the true musicians. I am but a warrior." "Well," says Shenner, looking up with a crooked but honest grin, "you're also a helluva guitar player." Jairen ahs. "Is /that/ what you call the instrament? I have never been able to find that out before. To be honest, it is much simpler to play than the counterpart of my people." Shenner blinks. "Uh... yeah," she says, the gruffness out of her tone entirely now. "It's a guitar." Jairen hmms, looking over the instrament again. "Interesting... gee-tar..." the word doesn't seem to be overly easy for him to pronounce. The 'gee-tar' is made of red plastic and a dark-hued wood, and in addition to its six strings, it sports a few dials -- the power circuit, volume, the tuning knobs. It's a battered, well-used thing, but its tone is true; Shenner, apparently, takes very good care of it. "Close enough," she allows, sounding almost amiable. Jairen bows again. "I must take my leave of you. I have a few errands to run before I retire for the evening. Fare you well." Tosses the money for the drink on the bar and turns to head out of the room. "See ya round!" is the girl's reply, this time. As Jairen departs, she leans down over the guitar, now clearly fascinated by what he did to it, and beginning to pluck experimentally at the strings. Jairen smiles to himself as he leaves, wondering what he put into that poor girl's head. [What Jairen put into Shenner's head is a desire to figure out exactly what he'd done with her guitar... and thus, distracted for the time being from her studies, the girl settles herself into trying to replicate the odd, compelling music...] Jeff_Boesch steps into the Cantina taking his time to check the place out as he approuchs the bar. Arriving at the bar he leans up agaist it nodding to the Bartender, "Corellian Ale." he says with a grin. The bar is fairly sparsely populated tonight, perhaps because it's the band's night off. One musician, however, a redheaded young woman parked in a chair not far from the bar, has a guitar in her lap, and she appears to be studying the thing with assidious interest. In the meantime, the bartender turns to the latest customer, nods amiably, and moves to pour up the requested drink. Jeff_Boesch reachs into his jacket pocket and flips a few credits onto the bar to pay for the drink. Taking the drink in hand he takes a swig from the bottle. He takes another looks about the room in hoping to find a familure face or two. Familiar faces? Hard to say. There's the usual scattering of sentients of assorted species, snippets of conversation, people drinking this, eating that. The redhead with the guitar frowns softly, adjusting the tuning on the thing, and eventually the bartender wanders down closer to her, leans over the bar, and says blandly to her, "So, Shen. Decided all men aren't bantha's behinds yet?" "Just most of 'em," says the guitar player gruffly, not looking up from fidlding with the instrument. Setting the bottle down on the counter Jeff stands up from the bar and heads over to the nearby table(yours) "Mind if I join ya?" he asks with a friendly grin on his face. With a quick gesture at the pretty much empty bar he continues, "It's never fun drinking by yourself." Shenner looks up, brow crinkling, as she hears the nearby voice. "I ain't drinkin'," she announces. Indeed, if there's anything in her immediate vicinity in the way of beverages, it's that pot of coffee sitting on the table just behind her, along with a scattering of datadiscs, a datapad, and a couple of large textbooks. Mineyur enters the Sandbar. Mineyur has arrived. Jeff_Boesch Upon first glance at Jeff you see a man who knows what he wants and gets it done. Standing no higher then 5'6", this lean man looks very dextress with his smooth flow of movement and actions. His dark black hair is cut short parted to the right. A few strands of hair come down and rest in front of his blue eyes. His eyes hold much determination and strive for perfection. But hold a touch secercy shines from behind them. At twenty-six years of age the man looks to have seen more adventure in his life time then many. His body remaines luckly unscathed of scars and bruisces. With pale skin he looks like he spends far to much time indoors. His voice quiet and mysterious yet holds a lovely Coreillian accent. Jeff wears his forest green flightsuit with pride knowing he is Marine, the few the proud. The suit is covered in black splotches giving it a slight camo effect without the brown. Placed over his flightsuit he weards a matching forest green jacket. The uniform is kept simple like nearly all cadet's uniforms are. There are no medals or ribbens except his silver pirmid showing his rank, Cadet. Mineyur enters the bar, his familiar smug and arrogant attitude following like a puppy. Shenner, at a table not far away from the bar where Ariani is on duty, is keeping company with her big guitar, a scattering of books and datadiscs and her datapad, and a large pot of coffee. A young man has approached her, and Shenner is eying him gruffly. Jeff_Boesch stands near Shenner's table with his left hand slipped into the pocket of his pants while the other holds a corellian Ale. He gives a light shrug with a grin in responce. "And why aren't you drinking?" he cant help but ask, "I'll buy ya something, what do you want?" he says with a smile. Shenner frowns, her green gaze looking Boesch up and down, her ear honing in on his accent. "I get my drinks free here, pal," she informs him curtly, her hands paused on her guitar strings. "Don't bother." Mineyur smiles. Oh this /is/ rich, some other fool to rsk the ire of Shen. He chuckles and calls out to the man, "Might as well move a moutain, man, you'll have the same luck." Jeff_Boesch looks Shenner over not believing this, "What the hell is your problem? I'm just looking for someone to talk with, I'm not trying to get in your panties or any of that shit." he turns around heading back to the looking a little pissed at how the woman act around here. Shenner's gaze snaps in Mineyur's direction, and her expression turns decidedly frigid. Ariani, behind the bar, also notices the man, and the bartender's features crinkle up as if she'd just inhaled an unpleasant odor. Then, apparently resolving to blatantly ignore Mineyur, she promptly scowls at Boesch, and locks her attention down on her guitar. Ariani, in the meantime, peers at Boesch. And then peers at Shen, and sighs. The older woman temporarily abandons her post, coming out from behind the bar and comes up to the guitar with the guitar, reaching for her shoulder and leaning over to murmur, "Shen, can I have a word with you?" Mineyur laughs and nearly keels over. "My my, Shen. It seems that these silly people just keep coming, who atually have the nerve to want to befriend you. Well, never fear, I do not seek that. I just came for a drink." To Jeff, "Um, Sir, I do belive that you are out of order. And that is foul language indeed. Maybe you should get lost, eh?" Jeff_Boesch places his elbow on the counter and leans his forehead into the palm of his hand. Looking downward he shakes his head slightly, mutting something like "Biggest mistake I've ever made." His mood quickly shifted from looking a little pissed to the, 'What did I get myself into' look. Shenner, now blatantly ignoring both young men, wheels a heated glare up to Ariani and can be heard to growl at her, "What?!" The bartender, unfazed, leans over and fixes her with a steady regard, murmuring to her in low tones, "Kid, you really can't be biting the heads off customers, okay? It drives off business..." Ariani's voice drops down for just Shen's ears alone, and from the girl's expression, it's clear she isn't taking the lecture very well. Jeff_Boesch ignors Mineyur's coment for the most part. He does mumble a bit under his breath however. Mineyur grins, very pleased with the ill mood, and glorying in the moment, he orders a drink. "Ariani, I want the hardest stuff you've got." He looks at Jeff with an amused expression. "So, punk, what's your name? Or od you have one? Mine's Mineyur Starlance, Cadet." "Hold up a minute," Ariani says shortly to Mineyur, "I'll be right with you." She is still leaning over Shenner, and Shenner's glaring back. Only after Shen mutters a grudging and clearly unthrilled "All right, all right already," does the woman turn and head back to her post at the bar. Shenner, in the meantime, scowling vehemently now, swings the guitar off her lap and gets up. She steps to the table she'd been occupying, and starts clearing it off, reaching for a tote bag she'd stashed under the table into which she can put her belongings. Jeff_Boesch looks towards Mineyur he shakes his head and stands up. He approuchs Mineyur, "Listen you lowly peiece of shit. Cause that is all that you are at Cadet. Is that clear?" he points to his name plate on his uniform. His voice countinues being stern and harsh, "Cadet, perhaps you should go back to grammer school, just in case you cant fucking read the name is Boesch." Tracer enters the Sandbar. Tracer has arrived. Tarlin enters the Sandbar. Tarlin has arrived. Ariani flicks Shenner a glance that's half concern and half resignation, while the girl shovels books, data discs, and her datapad into her tote bag. The tote bag is, at last, slung onto her shoulder, and the strap of the big guitar is slung over her other shoulder. Tracer nods to Airani, "Not sure yet." She waits for Tarlin to catch up to her and surveys the crowd. Tarlin walks in with Tracer, stoping for a moment to scan the bar And as Ariani turns to pour up Mineyur a shot of something stiff -- though not quite as stiff as the young man might want, given that she doesn't trust the cadet with the stiffest stuff in the house -- she hails Tarlin and Tracer, in the meantime. Mineyur gets his drink, and then the bartender turns to handle the two new customers. Tarlin looks at you for a moment. And Shenner, glowering at the bar at large, her tote bag on one shoulder and her guitar on the other, stalks out. "I'll see ya tomorrow night with the others, 'Ani," is all she says, before she vanishes into the night. You leave The Sandbar, entering the fresh air of Fountain Square. Fountain Square - Plaxton City The huge buildings in the background threaten to take over this small patch of green that is the center of Plaxton City. A stone fountain -still in place 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. 'Farewell, for all journeyers that leave this place shall always return to call it home.' Wandering the square throughout the day are Caspar Marines; some off-duty and enjoying their downtime while on-duty commandos in full armor and uniform keep watch over the area. Despite the commandos' aggresive appearance, they are viewed with admiration and respect from most of the citizens, some of them even joking and talking with families. The night sky above is cloudy with patches of clear spots allowing you to see the sky behind them. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Rabid => Stalh => Ozzle => Paul_Nighman => IGNews Terminal - Caspar => Mail Terminal: Caspar -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ndbar leads to The Sandbar. 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. "The StarShield Corporation.", Rabid repeats. "Somehow I doubt the Horansi has a more clear a picture of what's at stake, than I do. He's not seen the incidents with Major Valios, or any of the other people." Rabid sighs and shakes his head. "The Corporation has taken steps against Ozzle's influence into our operations, but we think he won't last in his particular position of power for very long. We give him six months before Caspar realizes that he's a liability to the CDU, and has him censured or dismissed from his position." Shenner, scowling a vehement sort of scowl that suggests she's bearing a serious grudge with the galaxy at large, comes stalking out of the Sandbar. She has a sizeable tote bag dangling off one shoulder, and a big guitar stuffed under one arm. Without paying the slightest bit of attention to any sentients in the square aside from what's needed to avoid colliding with them, she starts heading westward. Mizaree enters the square from the south. Mizaree has arrived. "Like a said," Paul corrects patiently, "perhaps if he _had_ a clearer perception of things? I think the Horansi needs to, to put it indelicately, have his nose rubbed in the situation." Shifting his broken instrument to his other hand, Paul sighs softly, adding, "I hope that you're right ... but Dark Jedi are not to be trifled with, for they are quick to anger and like to play with their food before killing it." There is a dark tone to the Corellian's voice, not of censure, but of personal experience. Mizaree walks down the street with an air of confidence in her step, politely nodding to those she passes. She softly mouths a "good day", then continues on her way. Mizaree enters the Sandbar. Mizaree has left. Noticing that he is quickly losing the interest of the Sarian, Stalh speaks quicker, although his venom is not reduced. "I am just wondering, Sir, why you among people deal with the weak, rather than the strong?" He clearly means himself, and is not afraid to say it. He motions to say something else, however cuts himself short for a hidden reason that does not surface to his face. Aerilaya enters the square from the south. Aerilaya has arrived. Aerilaya enters the Sandbar. Aerilaya has left. Selektah enters the square from the south. Selektah has arrived. Selektah enters the Sandbar. Selektah has left. Rabid snorts angrily. "Ozzle may be quite the Viper...but somehow I doubt he realizes the number and skill of the Mongooses that are after him.", Rabid says. "And if the Horansi had the necessary data...would he still do something? I tend to doubt it." Empty boasting, implied or otherwise, is not something that impresses Ozzle. He hears it incessantly, and under the circumstances, he has no reason to believe there's anything behind this man's overconfidance. "I chose to deal with those whom I respect, and those who are valuable to my purposes. The opinions of others aren't of much concern. In fact, at most, they tend to be rather insulting." Shenner, her expression quite profoundly and eloquently announcing to the world at large 'GRRRRRRRR!' stalks out of sight, heading westward towards the beach. [And soon...] 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. -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ast leads to West Blake St. - Plaxton City. Mineyur arrives from the street. Mineyur has arrived. Mineyur curses. "You didn't see me." Tracer arrives from the street. Tracer has arrived. Selektah arrives from the street. Selektah has arrived. The beach is fairly deserted. Yet, however, it gives a strong impression of being crowded, at least with the strains of an extremely angry guitar. Parked under a pula tree, Shenner is communing with her instrument, the guitar's strings putting out edged, raw, and passionate sound. The girl is sitting with her face out to sea, her back against the tree, in deliberate oblivion to the rest of the world around her. Tarlin arrives from the street. Tarlin has arrived. Tarlin Moves into the area weapon in hand Tracer stands, trying to quickly asses where Mineyur has headed. Mineyur is running ot the water, as Shenner gets in touch with her instrument. Selektah runs into the area responding to the comlink message, his kylan-3 in his hand looking for the escaped prisoner. Tarlin takes aim at Mineyur with his side arm and fires a warning shot Tracer ducks hearing the blaster shot from behind her. Well, the beach _had_ been fairly deserted. Still, if Shenner notices those charging out onto the sand, she gives no sign of it -- until, however, a shot is fired. Her guitar's music then cuts off as abruptly as if a switch had been thrown, and her green gaze shoots up in consternation. Webb arrives from the street. Webb has arrived. Savanin arrives from the street. Savanin has arrived. Savanin moves in toward the back, letting webb take control of the situation. Selektah hears the firing blaster and follows the sound with his eyes, seeing Tarlin holding his weapon he sees who he's aiming at and runs quickly after the recruit. The escaped prisoner has run into the surf. Tracer is ducked down as Tarlin has just fired a warning shot behind her. Tarlin Takes a kneeling position and aims at Mineyur and Hollers "Freez" Mineyur continues running, ignoring Tarlin, diving into the water. Brilliant idea, genius, that'll hlep. Webb trudges up onto the beach, muttering into his comlink, "Find Gunny Sung... have her draw our equipment from the armoury. Might have a hunting expedition for her if this guy bolts." At that, he begins to approach the scene with an expression of utter disgust upon his face. Tracer shakes her head, resuming a standing position. .oO (What the kark?) Shenner, half behind the pula tree where until about five seconds ago she'd been venting the general unpleasantness of the evening out to the safely oblivious waves, flashes a glance off over her shoulder and around the tree trunk. She spies faces -- Mineyur's, being chased. And there's no sympathy in the guitar player's expression as she and her guitar edge around further behind the tree. If shots are being fired, she's in absolutely no mood to get in the way. Tarlin Stands and heads to the surf at a jog watching the prisoner try to swim away Selektah runs up along side of Tracer, watching with utter disbelief as the recruit dives into the ocean. Does he think he's gonna swim away from us? Savanin looks at you for a moment. Webb emits a quiet sigh and shrugs his shoulders. He takes a moment to shed his duty jacket and his beret, before joining into the chase at a pace that seems like a fairly easy jog to him. Most civilians wouldn't agree... Tarlin Jogs allong the beach keeping mineyur in sight Mineyur quickly realizes that his logic erred here, and he ducks beneath the pounding waves, only to be pushed back towards shore under water. He remains submerged as long as he can, swiiming north along the surf, a little aways. Even the smug recruit realizes he may soon hav to choose between drowning and being caught. Tracer knowing she may be one of the better swimmers, Tracer shrugs and strips her flight vest and boots of and runs at a quick pace towards teh surf. Savanin runs the distance of the beach and jumps headlong through an incoming wave. Hepulls himslef along arm over arm, toward the escapie. Selektah stands where he is knowing that with the tide being like it is, Mineyur will soon be joining us on the beach again. He looks over for the first time at the girl sitting by the tree, then he looks out at mineyur again, then back to girl at the tree, then back to mineyur again. Then it hits him, remembering where he saw these two individuals before he heads over to the girl Tarlin seeing webb tarlin waits for him to catch up Webb hrmms quietly to himself as he scans the waves, searching for his wayward recruit. A sternly calm expression crosses his face. Yes, this one just earned the right to sample a hint of Ranger training. Hope he lives... sorta. Tracer is fast behind Savanin. She diverts to the other side of where the escapee is in the surf, and dives in skillfully. Shenner, half-hiding behind the tree, gripping her guitar close to her and safely out of the way, frowns out at the scene unfolding before her. Noting Selektah's approach, she frowns at him, too, but makes no move to dissuade him from drawing near. Tarlin tuns to webb "I think we can end this with a stun setting shot Savanin moves swiftly through the evermoving current, just waiting to get his hands on the now struggling Mineyur. Mineyur has pushed too far, and soon finds himself in a precarious situation. The waves are overpowering the groundpounder, and he is not suited to the water. With a loud cry, he calls, "Help!" Wishing she had her wetsuit and surfboard, Tracer makes fast strokes towards the stupid, stupid recruit. Selektah holsters his weapon as he approaches the girl. He turns to survey the action down in the waters before speaking to the girl, "Pardon me, I'm so very sorry that this had to happen while your sitting here trying to relax, but I assure you that we'll have the situation contained as soon as possible." He adds a question, "For some reason I seem to remember a slight altercation between you and this young man that we're chasing, Do you know him?" Webb hrmms quietly to Tarlin, and shakes his head a little, "Nah... this'll be a little more ego-bruising for him than being stunned." Webb crosses his arms in front of his chest, and now paces along the surf, waiting just a little longer while he decides wether or not one more person is needed to fish Min our of the surf." Savanin finaly reaches Mineyur and with a firm hand grabs the back of his duty jacket and begains the prosses of physically dragging him back to shore. Haan arrives from the street. Haan has arrived. Selektah A man in his mid to late 20's. Standing about 5'11" tall with an athletic build. He carries himself with an air of confidence and determination. His deep green eyes show signs of seeing alot more than his age should allow. Selektah is wearing a fullbody, slate green flightsuit with blackish splotches on it. The suit appears to be armor-reinforced from beneath, and has numerous pockets to allow the marine to store items. A duty jacket is worn over the flightsuit, covered by several patches and insignias. A silver tri-braid rope encircles the left shoulder. Across his left chest area is a dull-gray patch with the name M. Selektah imprinted on it. Adorning his collar is his rank insignia. A single silver cason hawk indicates his rank to be Ensign. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => DL-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol => Kylan-3 Heavy Blaster Pistol => Knife Tracer pulls up in the water, seeing Savanin has reached him first. She bobs in place for a minute to see if she needs to assist. Shenner peers measuringly at Selektah, then out at the general commotion, and says lowly and gruffly to him, "I'll cope, don't worry about it." Her gaze flicks back to Mineyur, and she adds in short tones, "I only seen him a coupla times. I don't know him much." Mineyur still struggles, his pride on the line, kicking and flailing at Savanin. Tarlin stands near the surf near webb with his weapon in hand as he watchs to mariens fish out another marien from the water Tracer takes a couple of butterfly strokes to the others in the water. She attempts to grab Mineyurs legs, to stop his flailing. A flash shows as a knife slides out of Savanin's flight suit and into his hands. He quickly does a one handed flip to reverse the blade in his hands, and cuffs Mineyur smartly on the side of the head. Mineyur goes limp. Selektah smiles reassuringly at her, "Alright ma'am, It's just he was involved in another altercation tonight at the Sandbar and I'm just trying to determine what kind of a threat he is to the people of Caspar." He turns to make sure sure his fellow marines have the situation in hand before turning back to the girl and saying, "Well, I'm sorry to have bothered you. If you don't know anything about him, I'll be on my way." Shenner smirks. "He's an arrogant jerk, if that helps," she tells Selektah bluntly, "and I hope he" -- she nods her dark red head off in Savanin's direction -- "just knocked some sense into him, maybe he'll stop trying to hit on people with all the charm of a drunken bantha. That's all I know, though." Mineyur is a heavy weight now, being sucked by the strong tides as the surf slaps at the Marines. Tracer gets some relief now that the struggle has stopped. "Let's get him out of here, sir!" she shouts over the surf, and starts to pull herself to shore with one hand attempting drag the bottom half of the unconcious jerk, the waves buffeting her small form. Tarlin looks at you for a moment. Savanin strugles slightly under the added weight of some one who can't keep himself afloat. And a large someone at that. "Aye, let's at that " He spins about trying to get the best position for the swim back to shore. He finaly settles in a little side kick swim. Draging the marine back to shore.. Mineyur is a heavy weight now, being sucked by the strong tides as the surf slaps at the Marines. Webb starts to wade out into the surf, up to the point where he is about mid-thigh deep in water, waiting at that point to assist Sav and Tracer at hauling this useless jetsam ashore. Savanin pulls himself and the shared weight toward where Webb is standing in the surf.. Tarlin walks into the water beside Webb Selektah looks back down at the girl for moment before smiling and saying, "Yes he does appear to be jerk. Ahh well, thanks for your time." and he breaks into a jog down the beach towards his fellow marines. Tracer follows along with her half of the dead weight, sloshing along through the surf. Now able to put his feet underneath himself in the sand, his drag becomes easier. Savanin moves his grip down to a shoulder so that Webb can get a hand on him.. Tarlin reaches out and grabs Min my his collers and helps pull him to the shore Webb grabs onto an arm, or a leg, or whatever limb has presented itself. He's not too gentle about it either. One would almost think he's not too concerned about wether or not Min suffers a dislocation. Tracer finally let's go her burden, now that the others have the floater. She trudges out of the water, flight suit heavy and dripping, running both hands through her hair and breathing a bit hard. "Would some one please tell me why we bothered doing that!" Her tone is annoyed on the brink of bitchy. Mineyur bobs around like a dummy in the not so gentle care of the mil crew. The musician by the pula tree stays quite pointedly out of the way, her expression grim. Tarlin Shrugs "I dont know. I figured he was coming back one way or the other" Selektah reaches the festivities just as Tracer sludges her way out of the water. He can't help laughing at her condition, "So Tracer, how are things going down here?" he asks with a grin. Savanin takes a moment to place the knife in his hand back into it's sheath on his uniform. he shrugs when he notices the shreading of Mineyurs uniform at the neck, where the knife was held while he was being dragged. Webb flashes a hint of a smile and casts a glance over to Tracer, "Come now ma'am. You can't see the benefit of letting him live long enough to have his ego torn down to size." Webb kneels down beside his unconcious recruit and peers at him, murmuring the words in a tone of voice that spells no good, "Gotta wake up sometime, recruit." Savanin manages a grin at Webb's unspoken suggestion, "Where do you want him Seargent?" Tracer gives Sele the LOOK, but manages a half grin as she catches her breath. Unzipping her flight suit, she replies, "Oh....just great!" Her comment dripping with sarcasm, like her suit that she down strips off. She stands on one foot in the sand in shorts and tank top, attempting to remove her sandy, wet socks. "Be sure to call me when you do, Webb. I like to watch bugs get torured." Mineyur promptly coughs up water, loosing a rivulet into Webb's looming face, as he is wracked with coughs and tries to caych his breath. Tarlin kneels down beside min and does a quick search to make sure he did not pick up a weapon durring his little run Webb doesn't seem to care about that drop of coughed up water. It's funny how you become oblivious to such things when your career has involved numerous instances of crawling hip deep (or deeper) through far less pleasant substances. Shenner, now that the chaos appears to have subsided, very quietly and very deliberately takes up her guitar and her tote bag, and slinks silently off the beach, leaving the military personnel to their business. [End log.]