Log Date: 10/17/98 Log Cast: Selektah, Tarlin, Shenner, Troy, Aidon, Vanessa (NPC), Fulk Log Intro: After the last several days on Caspar, during which she's witnessed confrontrations between Luke and Sinjon and a Dark Jedi, during which she's been unexpectedly called beautiful to her face by Troy McTavish, and during which she's continued to doggedly prepare herself for starting school at the University of Caspar, one might think that Shenner has barely had time to work in her normal musical performances at the Sandbar, much less carry out any personal research... But then again, Shenner still has the mysterious necklace that Paul had given her on Calamari... and for all that thinking of the Corellian still causes her pain, still, she's never been able to shake curiosity about the little brass-and-silver pendant. Driven to investigate it half out of honest interest in the thing and half out of an instinctive desire to feel somehow closer to Paul that she'll barely admit to herself, the young musician has begun nosing around for clues as to the origins of this particular piece of jewelry. She's discovered that a trader named Dyllas Thurn might be able to help her, and accordingly, Shen decides to jaunt up to Kichnar Station for a change of scenery... and hopefully some information. She isn't, however, aware that she's about to go another round with the caustic ex-soldier Aidon Semmes.... ---------- 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. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Economic Presence -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => SWOOP: Skyreaver X2 -- Vornskr's Fury => Selektah => Troy => STARFIGHTER: Sardakh Kale-1 -- Dundee => Tarlin => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Wanderer Mk II -- CCS Rawalpindi => SHUTTLE: CSS Olumekar => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- Tycoon => STARFIGHTER: Incom A-24 Sleuth -- The Soul Edge => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- Crimson Dusk => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Wanderer Mk II -- Dauntless => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Intrepid => CAPITAL: AEC Modular -- Windrunner(#7311LXz) => STARFIGHTER: Sardakh Class 750 Freighter -- CCS Anglesey => STARFIGHTER: Ghtroc Class 720 Freighter -- Makeshift Gizmo => STARFIGHTER: Ghtroc Class 720 Freighter -- Avenger => STARFIGHTER: Koensayr BTL-S3 Y-wing -- Viper => CAPITAL: Corellian Action VI -- Wild Karrde => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Jedi One => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CFS Frunze => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Wanderer Mk II -- Flight of Fancy => STARFIGHTER: Corellian YT-1300 -- Sable Fox => STARFIGHTER: Yacht Lady Luck => STARFIGHTER: Corellian YT-1300 -- The Stray Cat => STARFIGHTER: Sardakh Kale-1 -- Firedancer => STARFIGHTER: Corellian YT-1300 -- Typhos => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- CFS Armistice => SQUAD: Caspar Guards - 6799 => STARFIGHTER: SubPro Ilyrian Gnat -- CFS Kalinin => starport computer => Transport Panel -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- est leads to Concourse - Union Starport. Selektah has left. Selektah climbs onto the back of SWOOP: Skyreaver X2 -- Vornskr's Fury. SWOOP: Skyreaver X2 -- Vornskr's Fury Revs! Tarlin stands near the other man speaking with a slightly nervus look. Shenner comes striding steadily out into the starport, heading for the boarding area for the intra-system shuttle. The young musician has her inevitable carry-sack slung over her shoulder. SWOOP: Skyreaver X2 -- Vornskr's Fury heads into one of the openings towards the concourse of the starport. SWOOP: Skyreaver X2 -- Vornskr's Fury has left. Troy seems to be laughing at Tarlin slightly "Ahhh you'll be okay.." and waves at Shenner as she enters the starport Shenner closes the distance between her and the _Olumekar_, and in short order, her redheaded figure vanishes aboard. She peers in Troy's direction, and waves at him as she goes. [Onto the shuttle Shen goes, then, and up to Kichnar Station. In short order she is among the sentients up on that spaceborn center of habitation, and heading into the Blue Nebula cantina....] You open the door to the Blue Nebula and walk in. Level 4 -Blue Nebula Cantina- The Blue Nebula Cantina is a small, smoky bar. Catering mainly to the traders and spacers who visit the station, the Blue Nebula is known for a few of its unique beverages. Even the occasional resident will wander in looking for a drink and perhaps a little conversation. OOC Note: Type BAR HELP for bar commands. Type PLACE HELP for place commands. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Aidon => Nino 'The Rat' Pasquali => Vanessa => Crystal -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- oreward leads to Level 4 -Northern Concourse-. The bar's main entrance opens up to admit a slender redhaired figure of a young woman, a leather carrysack slung off one shoulder. As she comes in, Shenner casts a brief bemused look back the way she came before turning to sweep a green gaze across the establishment. Her steps then take her towards the bar. Aidon is sitting at the bar, as he often is. He's on the corner where he can see most of the room, though he's not really paying attention to the door. The cantina is quiet tonight; no real activity. Just several patrons and their drinks in quiet contemplation of drunkenness. Vanessa Vanessa Vincetti, dauthter of the influential Vincetti family of Mergansar, quietly works in the background of the cantina. Her chiseled features shine against the darknes of the room. Her long, brown, curled locks flow gently across her cheeks and onto her shoulders, and her emerald eyes sparkle as she smiles at the patrons. She wears a simple red outfit, similar in style to the flightsuits of the spacers that frequent the station. She can often be found conversing with customers, enthralled by tales of adventure and excitement. Her friendly smile and cheerful demeanor leave little doubt that she works here not out of need for credits, but for a love of those she meets. Crystal Exhaling an unmatched confidence and poise, the young woman with pitch-black tresses and clear-blue irises moves about with a sly sensuality. Her thin, red lips part to reveal a heart-stopping smile directed to return your gaze. The hair is drawn back into a simple ponytail to reveal the high cheekbones and well-defined features, and her skin is flawless. The green jumpsuit she wears clings to her curvy physique as if it was of her very being. She gently, but firmly, turns down all improper requests and comments, giving you a sense that you wouldn't want to displease her. Approaching the bar, Shen waves down the 'tender, calling out softly, "Evenin'. Gimme a cider if you got it..." She goes fishing into a pocket to pull forth credits, and adds in that same tone as the woman turns back around with her drink. "I'm lookin' for a trader named Dyllas Thurn, do you know her?" Aidon glances at Shen, and then looks more closely. "Hmm." It's impossible to say whether such a quiet comment would be noticed. Then again, his next comment, "See you've finally found the better establishments, girl," is probably hard to miss. "She's docked here," the bartender begins, then discreetly withdraws as Shen's attention diverts. Her drink has been provided and paid for, and thus, the woman behind the counter moves off to attend another customer. Shenner, in the meantime, starts and glances down the bar -- to find Aidon Semmes. Straightening on the stool she's claimed for a seat, the redhead says coolly, "I knew about this place already. Just don't come up here much." "Why? Afraid of it, too?" Aidon is not a tactless person, though Shen may never realize it. Why he likes antagonizing this particular girl is a mystery. But he does. One corner of Shenner's mouth curls up in an unamiable smirk, and her green eyes turn cold. Her tone bitingly sarcastic, she drawls, "Nah, I just heard they had a problem with vermin in here." "I beg your pardon?" puts in Vanessa from behind the bar, coming back into earshot. "I could recommend a good exterminator," Shenner says blithely, turning back around to face the woman. "So you were sayin' Thurn's docked here?" "Is that so?" drawls Aidon. "Too bad you've made the problem worse by coming in. Maybe I oughta step on you and put you out of our misery." Shenner doesn't even dignify that remark with a reply. Blatantly ignoring the man nearby, the redheaded girl keeps her attention focused straight on Vanessa. The bartender lifts her eyebrows and peers back and forth between her two apparently antagonistic customers, before affirming to Shen, "Yes. She comes in here a good bit as long as she's on this leg of her yearly sweep. Are you looking for her?" Aidon looks at Shenner thoughtfully. "Aye," he answers Vanessa. "She's looking for her. Hoping for a way out of this place," he hazards, "Because she's flat broke." "I'm looking for her," Shenner says frostily, not looking at the man interrupting the conversation, "because I have an item I'm told she might be able to identify, and I'm willing to pay her for her time and trouble." Aidon takes a sip of his white lightning drink and says, "So you're a thief, rather than just a busker? I never knew." Vanessa's brows climb higher at Aidon's interruption, and she slides the man a curious look before telling Shenner, "Well, she may or may not be in tonight, she conducts a lot of her business on board her ship--" She cuts off, at the man's further impertinent question. And Shen turns, then, her face white and set, and she pins him with an emerald glare. "It is," she pronounces in blisteringly contemptuous tones, "an academic inquiry, on an item legitimately in my possession." _Not like it's any of your karkin' business,_ she mentally adds, but she keeps this to herself, conscious that to say it would ruin the lofty disdain of her retort. Aidon chuckles. "You do that so well. Now if only I actually was the slimy little piece of non-humanoid excrement that you want me to be, everything would be perfect." Shenner does not look amused. "For one thing, mister, I don't have a problem with non-humanoids, and you have a helluva lot of nerve assuming I do. For another thing," she goes on, ticking off points on her slender fingers, "if you're _not_ a slimy piece of excrement, you're doing a helluvan impersonation of one. And for a third thing, what the hell business of yours is _my_ business, anyway?" "If you two have a problem," interjects the bartender coolly, "I'll have to ask you to take it outside." "Ahh, but non-humanoid excrement is usually so much more pungent than the humanoid variety. Or at least the sort I'm thinking of is," Aidon gives the gartender a glance and a grin. "What, you've never seen two old friends greet each other before? Shenner and I go way back. At least a month. I kept her from drowning herself, though she doesn't realize it. Which is why she's my business now." "You don't," Shenner states frigidly, "have the slightest idea what you're talking about." There, that lofty disdain again. The girl's chin tilts up ever so slightly, defiantly, as she adds to Vanessa, "No problem. Don't suppose you can identify Thurn's ship for me?" "The _Holshorn's Fury_," is Vanessa's brisk reply. The bartender, apparently, is not entirely convinced that the two individuals before her aren't going to escalate this argument of theirs, and her gaze is not entirely friendly, though her expression is still perfectly composed. Aidon leans back in his seat and studies Shenner for a long, long moment. "Oh," he says quietly, "I think I have some idea. But if you're over that ragamuffin you were pining over, that's just as well." He gives her a closer look and says, "You're still not interested in a job, are you. Are you going to be a poor waif your whole life, then?" Shenner's face goes even whiter, and she growls out shortly, "You still don't know what you're talking about, mister." Aidon says, "The name's still Aidon," the man says easily. "And if I don't know what I'm talking about, why are you looking like I reached in and put my hand around your soul, hmm?"" Shenner, by way of reply to this, turns and takes up her cider. She gulps down one swallow of it and snaps, "I was _not_ going to drown myself." A second gulp. "I _have_ a job." A third gulp. "I am _not_ a poor waif." Then she drains the contents of the mug, shoots her green gaze back to Semmes, and concludes in a low and expressionless tone contradicted by the spark in her eyes, "And he was _not_ a ragamuffin." "I'm glad about the first three," Aidon says calmly. "And as for the fourth, any man stupid enough to leave you in that state is worse than a ragamuffin. I'd offer to beat him up for you, but I'd say you can do -that- quite well enough on your own." Shenner sneers, "What, you'd lower yourself to beating up the former boyfriends of vermin? I don't think so. Excuse me." She turns to slide over her empty mug to the bartender, who if she's interested in this ongoing exchange is doing a good job of hiding it, and Shen tells her, "If you see Thurn in, tell her a client's lookin' for her, will you? I found her ID on the local nets." "Certainly," replies Vanessa, in a calm to match that of Semmes. He grins, caught in the web of his own cheerful commentary. Aidon doesn't appear put out in the slightest. "Even vermin deserve to be taken care of. Especially unemployed drowned waifs of vermin. You really could freeze an ice planet with that voice of yours, you know. Want another one of those?" His own drink has not changed volume appreciably, but then again he's drinking death in a glass. "I'm not unemployed, I'm not drowned, and I _don't_ need anybody taking care of me," replies Shenner caustically, "especially you." She's poised to get up, but she hasn't yet; instead, the redheaded girl demands, "What is it with you, anyway?" Aidon is silent longer than one would have expected. It's as if he considers giving a serious answer, discards it, and only comes up with another serious one. Finally he shrugs minutely. "What have I got to lose?" he says. "You can take it, girl. You even seem to enjoy our jousts. Either I drink Loneliness here," and he holds up the glass, "Or I drink alone. Y-- Arguing's not a bad alternative." Shenner considers this, slender arms crossed along her chest, and then she abruptly turns round on her stool again and signals Vanessa. "Gimme another cider," she requests gruffly. Aidon looks at you for a moment. Aidon adds, "Besides, you sure -look- like you need someone taking care of you." His face creases into what may be his first genuine smile of the evening when she orders another cider.. "Like as not I'm wrong about that, though. You're tough as nails even in spite of that beautiful face of yours." Shen goes still for a moment, even as Vanessa slides her a fresh mug of cider. Without looking at Semmes, she is silent for a few moments more, before she mutters, "I don't _think_ there's been anything spikin' the water supply in this system..." Then, more loudly, she adds shortly, "..... thanks." Aidon quirks an eyebrow. "Water supply?" he asks. It doesn't look like he really expects an answer. "So what's your job, anyway? Still singing in that dive?" "The Sandbar's a decent place," Shenner says, brows knitting, as she now glances at the man beside her. "That doesn't answer whether you're still working there or not," Aidon notes. "You ought to do something with your life, you know." Shenner's chin comes up again. "I'm singing there," she replies, "and I plan to do something with my life, if you must know." Aidon takes another miniscule sip of his drink. "Is that so?" he asks. "Good for you. What's it going to be?" He glances over at Vanessa, who's gone on to serve other patrons. Apparently he and the redhead are no longer a threat to the crockery. Shenner proclaims, with a subtle challenge to her voice -- as if she expects to be mocked for the announcement, perhaps -- "I'm going to be a xenomusicologist." Aidon's eyes widen. "All right, I don't know what that is. But it sounds like it pays well and will get you where you ought to be in your life. Goodfor you, girl." Shenner shrugs, taking another pull of her cider, and says shortly, "I'm not doing it for the pay, pal. Academics don't make that much anyway." Aidon glances at Shenner in some surprise. "Don't be dense, girl. I didn't mean wealth. If I thought that was important, I wouldn't be doing what I do. Nor living where I live, for that matter." "You were the one who mentioned paying well, not me," Shenner retorts testily, her dark red brows still lowered over her green eyes. "There's a big difference between paying well and wealth, girl. Paying well feeds you what you want to eat. Wealth feeds you in ridiculously small servings that are so decorated you're afraid the food'll fall apart before you get it to your mouth." Aidon takes an actual sip of his drink. Something in the thought of wealth apparently makes him angry. As it's nearly impossible to swallow that stuff even at a good moment, he has to pause while he's doing so. When he's swallowed successfully, he goes on in a calmer tone. "So why -are- you doing it?" Studying Semmes through narrowed eyes, Shenner takes in his words, his ton, and his swallowing of his drink, before she finally says simply, "Because I'm going to learn about the countless ways there are of making music in this galaxy, and then I'm going to go do 'em." He keeps his gaze firmly off of young Shenner for the moment. If he doesn't, they'll end up staring at each other, which will only comeout badly. He frowns, and replies, "That's what you're going to do. Which is good to know, too. But I asked why." "Because I love music," answers the girl without batting an eye. "What more's to know?" "-That- was the more I wanted to know," Aidon says. Annoyance is still in his tone, though it's buried well. "You hadn't said you did." Shen peers down into her cider, checking to see how much she has left, before tossing back another swallow and turning her attention off across the bar. Rolling a shoulder in a shrug, she says roughly, "Well, I do." Since Shenner is looking somehwere else, Aidon studies her with the same intense gaze a hunter would use on coming upon an unexpected wild cat. "Good," is all he says. "That'll hold you through." "I'm expectin' it to," proclaims the redhead, nursing the cider. "What do _you_ do, anyway?" Aidon grins. "I repair ladies' comlinks when they spill their cosmetics on them." He's clearly not telling the whole truth, even if that's part of it. Shenner glances back to her... companion, she supposes. The only sign she gives of how much she gleans from the statement is a quirk to her brows. "And you used to be a soldier." "A few years ago, a long long ways from here," Aidon agrees. "I get a little pension check out of it every month." "For who?" Shenner asks, the question straightforward enough, but her eyes turning it into a demand. Aidon quirks an eyebrow. "For a planetary part of the CSA's forces, Shenner. Does that mean you'll have to actually hate me now, rather than just disliking me?" "It means," says Shenner evenly, "that I just want to know who you fought for, is all." She turns her gaze back to her cider. Aidon raises his glass to his lips and takes a small sip. "I spent more time fixing things than fighting," he says. "Though I can pilot a ship if I have to, andn everyone learns to wear the armor. I learned when I was a raw recruit that I could strip a gun faster than anyone else. They didn't let me get far from the repair racks after that." "Ah," says Shen, noncommittally, polishing off the cider. Aidon shrugs; he hadn't expected the girl to understand anything he said. Appears that he was right. He swallows down the last of his drink in one gulp, sets down his glass, and looks at Shen directly. "I," he says, "should know better." Shenner meets the gaze upon her, and says in cool tones, "And this Veery guy you said you know?" She doesn't comment on any understanding or lack thereof she may possess. Aidon frowns, as he'd not connected that conversation to this one, yet. He answers steadily enough. "A sergeant I knew best when I was a senior NCO, though we met a few years before that. He was a drill; took care of his recruits like his own kids. He grew 'em up strong and then sent 'em out to play with the guns. He and I banged heads a few times over the state of those guns until we got to know each other." "And you said he has a wife... three kids," the redheaded girl remarks, perhaps casually, perhaps not -- probably not, if the glint of her leaf-hued eyes is any indication. "Any other family you know about?" Aidon frowns for a minute, thinking back. "He had a lot of pictures," he says slowly, "But I never met any but a brother who came to visit him once. I think he was a medic or some such." Fulk walks in from the main concourse. Fulk has arrived. Shenner, her face very, very still, murmurs simply, "Ah," and sets the now-empty mug down on the bar before her. Fulk wanders into the smoke-filled bar, his hands ever so present, shoved into his pockets. Not wasting any time walking towards his usual corner booth, a glance is offered to the present patrons. Aidon purses his lips. "What was your family like?" he finally asks. One of those present patrons is the redheaded girl conversing with the graying man at the bar. The former can be seen to shrug as she turns around on her stool, leaning on the bar behind her, reaching unthinkingly for the silver chain around her neck. "Didn't have one to speak of," she says tersely. The graying man appears to delight in making the girl uncomfortable, for all that he hasn't done it lately. He says, "Well, you could do worse than them. They were just solid. Not anything speial. They loved each other, and had fights sometime, and their kids still rebelled as teenagers." He shakes his head. "Their oldest wouldn't be much older than you are, I'm guessing." Shen's features hold their very still expression, and she rises to her feet, saying distantly, "Good for them." Aidon watches Shen begin to leave, and suddenly reaches out to clasp her hand. "Don't hurt yourself on this sharp edge, Shenner. If you want a family, I can put you in touch with them. If you don't, then let it go." Her fingers, grasped, go taut; her gaze, on Semmes, is unreadable. "Nobody said anything about wanting a family," she responds. "I was just curious, is all. It's a big galaxy -- not surprised somebody's got the same last name I do. Thanks for the cider. 'Scuse me." And she detaches her hand. Aidon nods slowly. "Good night," he says to the young woman. "Thanks for the argument." He doesn't walk out with her, though he's finished with his own drink. He'll surely leave as soon as she's safely away, though. And out she goes, not stalking, not fleeing -- if anything, the look Shenner wears suggests that her awareness of her current surroundings is passing at best. She doesn't even give Aidon Semmes any more of what seem to be her usual blistering glares as she goes. [End log.]