Log Date:
	5/26/99

Log Cast:
	Jairen, Emma (NPC), Ariani (NPC), Shenner

Log Intro:
	Shenner's friendship with her self-elected sword teacher -- and,
so it seems, self-proclaimed clansman and tribesmate -- has been steadily
developing ever since Jairen presented her with a silver clasp at the end
of the battle that liberated Plaxton City from Imperial control. Formerly
elusive, showing up onto periodically in Shen's company, the silver-haired
swordsman has begun to make a more regular presence of himself... only to
further sharpen the young musician's curiosity about him. In the midst of
her other personal research -- trying to verify the planet of origin of a
certain necklace in her possession -- thus far Shenner's not been particularly
successful in uncovering information on the mysterious terms Jairen has
mentioned around her -- like 'Jaer' or 'the Order of the Grooved Blade'.
She's had to bide her time and hope that she can corner him again soon long 
enough to get answers to questions that have grown rather more important,
given that her mysterious friend has taken the steps he has to further their
acquaintance.
	Nor has she figured out, quite yet, that oftentimes the best route
to knowledge is the direct one, even with mysterious swordsmen...

----------
Jairen enters the Sandbar.
Jairen has arrived.
Jairen steps into the cantina from out of the rain and glances around the 
  room. His hands rest lightly on his sword hilt as his eyes scan the various 
  patrons. After a moment or two of this, he heads silently towards the bar.

The Sandbar's quiet -- but then, it generally is, early in the morning. Emma, 
  whistling blithely to herself, is wandering around the room cleaning tables; 
  Ariani is lounging behind the bar keeping an eye out for patrons. Shenner, 
  the sole representative of the recently-named Womprats visible in the place 
  as the rest of the band all have day jobs, has claimed herself a stool at 
  the bar and is in intent communion with her little battered datapad. There's 
  a mug of kaffe at her elbow, and a sandwich on a saucer; not particularly 
  surprisingly, the sandwich is scarcely touched while Shenner is drinking 
  down the kaffe like water.

[His appearance is brief, inside the bar; however, so is his return outside.
 Not long after, the swordsman returns...]

Jairen steps back into the room and heads towards the bar, not even bothering 
  to attempt to remove excess water from himself. Sits down at the bar and 
  nods to Ari. "A wine please, m'lady."

The bar's still fairly quiet; the only change that has gone on in the place is 
  that Emma's finished cleaning the tables, a couple of lunchtime customers 
  have come in, and Shenner must have decided that eating that sandwich is a 
  good idea, for the saucer at her elbow is empty. She is, however, still 
  plugging away at her datapad; only when Ariani comes over toward Jairen, 
  saying cheerfully, "Be right with you," does the redheaded singer glance up. 
  Shenner then brightens, straightening up on her stool and rubbing at a neck 
  gone stiff with a few hours of staring down at her pad's little screen. "And 
  here I thought I was gonna hafta make a foray out into the woods to track 
  you down," she calls over wryly to the swordsman.

Jairen hmmms as he looks over at Shenner upon hearing her voice. He states 
  rather matter-of-factly, "You would not have found me." Looking down at the 
  pad, he asks, "Homework of some sort?"

Shenner swivels around lithely on her stool, propping an elbow on the bar 
  beside her and fixing a frankly curious gaze on the silver-haired, blue-eyed 
  warrior. "Not homework per se," she answers, "'cause the U's closed at least 
  until fall term, but I'm keepin' brushed up."

Jairen ahs, reaching over to take his wine from Ari with a nod and a "My 
  thanks, m'lady." handing her the appropriate coinage. "Music theory then, or 
  some other subject?"

Ariani nods amiably, looking quietly pleased; perhaps she appreciates a 
  distraction for Shen on hand. Shenner, in the meantime, scoots over a stool 
  closer to be in better conversational range, and smiles crookedly. "A bit of 
  history, actually. We got access to the research nets again, so I've been 
  pokin' around tryin' to follow up a xenomusicology lead I got."

Jairen ahs again, this time following it with a sip of wine. "And what lead is 
  that? Some chord progression used by some remote culture noone has ever 
  heard of perhaps?"

A rare, low chuckle escapes the redheaded human, and she props both her elbows 
  on the bar now, leaning back against it. "More like, a whole entire culture 
  focused around music. Somebody I bumped into claimed she did a lot of work 
  on the culture; thought I'd check it out. Besides" -- and a slight drawl 
  enters Shenner's voice -- "I haven't found any leads on where _you_ came 
  from."

Jairen raises his glass slightly. "And you most likely won't either." Takes 
  another sip. "So, tell me, what culture is the one you're looking into now?"

Hrmph; so much for _that_ particular hint volley. Still not entirely sure of 
  the proper tactics for ferreting information out of the reclusive, elusive 
  Jairen, Shenner crinkles her slightly freckled nose... but backs off, at 
  least for now, since she doesn't feel like juggling two conversational 
  topics at once. And who knows, maybe one topic'll lead into the other, the 
  one she _really_ wants information on. "The Baradi," she explains. "A 
  xenoarchaeologist I bumped into claims she did the research on 'em and got 
  some of their artifacts to Coruscant. Their culture was apparently entirely 
  centered around song."

Jairen hmms slightly. "I have never heard of the Baradi." he states. 'Though, 
  I have been to Coruscant." Shudders at the memory. "Too much city... no 
  trees or grass. Are the Baradi a native species of Coruscant?"

Shenner shakes her head. "No; they had their own civilization, their own 
  world, according to this woman I talked to. Their civilization was around 
  something on the order of thirteen thousand years ago." She smiles a little, 
  though it's a less dry smile than usual; green eyes glint with a spark 
  rarely seen by most in the bar who know her, a spark of interest, a spark of 
  desire for knowledge. "They believed they sprang forth from music. Managed 
  to let their whole culture die off because of getting too wrapped up in it, 
  though."

Jairen hmmms. "The problems of focusing too much on one thing and not on 
  anything else revealed it seems. So how did their artifacts get to Corsucant 
  then?"

"Karamun said she took 'em." Shenner reaches around, taking up her datapad and 
  peering thoughtfully down at the screen, idly tapping her fingertips against 
  its edge. "So far everything I've found out on the nets says she's what she 
  told me, a xenoarchaeologist. She had a dig site there, apparently." 
  Shenner's diction subtly changes, too, her grammar smoothing out every so 
  slightly. But there's also a slight tightening of her mouth on the word 
  'xenoarchaeologist'.

Jairen says, "You seem doubtful."

Shenner smiles faintly, spinning around on her stool and calling over to 
  Ariani, "Hey, can I have another kaffe?" The bartender, in the middle of 
  taking the order of a patron who's just come in, nods her acknowledgement, 
  putting Shen onto her mental queue. Then, to Jairen, Shenner appends dryly, 
  "Enh well. I haven't dug up her credentials yet, and it isn't as if 
  xenoarchaeology is all that massive a field of employment. Only a little 
  less specialized than xenomusicology."

Jairen says, "If such things are so specialized, would it not be a simple 
  matter to determine her crediblility?"

He's got a point there. Shenner frowns for a moment or two, peering down at 
  her little screen without really seeing it. Then, she seems to shake herself 
  a little. Okay, fine; maybe she'll get a little closer to cajoling 
  information out of the oft-secretive swordsman if she trusts him with a 
  tidbit or two of her own. "I haven't looked that hard yet," she admits 
  gruffly, setting the pad on the bar counter, and staring absently over at a 
  row of bottles. "Probably a little leery of finding out whether she knows 
  the _other_ xenoarchaeologist I know."

Jairen ahs, his own quest for information now bringing forth fruits. "And 
  which other xenoarchaeologist would that be?"

With the passage of time... and most importantly, the changes wrought within 
  her by her participation in a brief but bloody war... Shenner's memory of 
  this _other_ xenoarchaeologist has lost its most painful edges. But it 
  hasn't lost any of its clarity, and she can call up a recollection of 
  tousled sandy hair and a devastating smile without effort. Before the war, 
  she might have flinched at the question. Now, she merely glances Jairen's 
  way, memory in her eyes. "He's old history," she says succintly. "Somebody 
  who was... close to me once."

Jairen smiles, the answer he was looking for portrayed in his young friend's 
  eyes. "You cared a great deal about him, didn't you?" he asks. However, 
  before she can answer, he continues. "So, tell me more about this culture."

Shenner doesn't try to answer the question -- which, she suspects, is more of 
  an observation than a query, anyway. But she does nod tersely, a small smirk 
  tugging at one end of her mouth. _He's ten times my age,_ she tells herself. 
  _Probably was familiar with this kinda thing when my grandparents were 
  gleams in their parents' eyes._ Funny, though, how a difference of two 
  centuries in age doesn't sting her nearly so much as a difference of eleven 
  years... "They had a term Karamun quoted me," she murmurs. "'Habirisada.' 
  The Orchestra of Life. They had machines that they apparently named this, 
  and they generated whole symphonies based on the life cycles of plants."

Jairen arches a brow slightly. "Interesting. Much of my own people's music 
  revolves around depicting nature as well, but not quite to that extent. Did 
  they have music based on other things in their lives?"

"Well, from what she was telling me," Shenner answers, "their entire culture 
  _revolved_ around music, like I said. They idolized it, to the point that 
  industry and technology on their world began to atrophy, and they didn't 
  survive a wave of invasions." The discussion's still got the singer in her 
  'knowledge' mode, her enunciation clearer than normal, though the interest 
  in that knowledge hasn't quite yet dispelled the hints of what she'd called 
  'old history' out of her green eyes.

Jairen seems thoughtful at this. "15000 of your years ago you say?" chuckles. 
  "At this point of my people's history, we had never even seen a member of an 
  off-world race, let alone been invaded by one."

Ariani has by now gotten Shenner that requested coffee. She flicks the girl a 
  surreptitious glance, and nods approvingly to herself before waving down 
  Emma to relay a tray with a couple of sandwiches on it to two customers in a 
  booth towards the back of the room.

Shen, in the meantime, grins a bit. "Give or take a thousand or two. The 
  Baradi culture's Third Cycle went back 13,000 years; some of the 
  _habirisada_ machines she claims she got out of her dig were dated at twelve 
  thou." A pause; then, she appends with a tinge of humor, "I couldn't tell 
  you what humans were doing back then. A class I haven't taken yet."

Jairen chuckles slightly. "I doubt anyone /truely/ knows what humans were 
  doing at that time. Records from that long ago with shorter lived races tend 
  to be rather blurry in my experience."

Shenner snorts, but not unkindly. "Speakin' as the immediate nearest 
  representative of the species, pal, I can attest: we do well to keep decades 
  in mind, much less millenia. That's us, short-lived, short-memoried 
  monkeys." She takes up her kaffe, tossing back a mouthful, and then blowing 
  out a soft breath as the stuff starts to hit her system in an inward trickle 
  of warmth.

Jairen smiles at his friend's objections. "I merely state such, because 
  longer-lived peoples as myself have troubles keeping records for such a long 
  time. Of course, my people do not possess such a technology as this culture 
  does either, and is far, far older."

"Speaking of which..." Hey, she might be an unsubtle, short-lived, 
  short-memoried monkey, but never let it be said that Shenner doesn't have an 
  appreciation for the direct approach. Not to mention that she has an honest 
  and increasingly acute interest in the questions that have been tugging at 
  her brain since -- well, ever since not long after she'd first made Jairen's 
  acquaintance. "Will you tell me more of your homeworld? I mean, hells, 
  pal... I'm not even sure what to call your people."

Jairen chuckles, a mild smile on his lips. "That is all you needed to do, 
  Shenner, ask. The subtle hints were amusing but would continue to get you 
  nowhere. My people's name you cannot pronouce, but we are called the Jaer 
  (sch-ay-er) by the outworld races."

Well, all right, so an age difference of two centuries _can_ manage to make 
  her feel about as much of an infant as eleven years between her and a 
  certain aforementioned xenoarchaeologist. Shen does, however, manage to 
  refrain commenting on it even if she can't quite smooth out the 
  consternation lurking in her expression. "You said that word before," she 
  observes, with uncharacteristic gravity. This is uncertain ground to this 
  human girl, and that can be seen in the subtle little nuances of her face 
  and frame. "When we took back the city."

Jairen nods. "Yes. It is our racial title or name. You have been, shall we 
  say, adopted as an honorary member, as is shown by the clasp you wear." 
  motions to the hair clasp. "That is why I teach you to use a blade."

It doesn't seem to happen often that the ready-mouthed, raucous Shenner is at 
  a loss for commentary; now, though, she is silent for several breaths. Not 
  surprised, not exactly; better words to describe the reaction flickering 
  across her gaze might be 'profoundly moved'. Her attention fully on the 
  swordsman now, curiosity and an underlying awkwardness of some kind chasing 
  themselves through her expression, she tries for another success as long as 
  the direct approach is working. "Why me?" she asks huskily. "Don't get me 
  wrong -- I'm honored. But... I feel like I barely know you." She wants to 
  ask more, that's plain. But Shenner stops, having gone as far as she can 
  while she inwardly wrestles with twenty years' worth of habit urging her not 
  to question a growing tie to someone, lest it unexpectedly vanish.

Jairen smiles reassuringly. "Because, you are honorable, as well as caring for 
  your fellows. You fight only when you need and you fight well and with 
  honor. You earned this honor in the recent battle, fighting only for the 
  cause that you thought worthy when you needed, and not before or after."
Jairen doesn't seem peturbed by the question at all, much like he never seems 
  perturbed at anything much. However, his tone is gentle and his expression 
  is warm, not quite like that of someone talking to a young child and 
  explaining things.

Shenneret Veery has matured a great deal in the last year or so -- ever since 
  she talked herself into leaving Calamari in the company of Avy Laarken, ever 
  since she set foot on Caspar. Still, though, for all the stability and 
  confidence she's gained, there's a hint of a vulnerable, edgy half-grown 
  child peeking out from somewhere behind her eyes. It is perhaps that echo of 
  a child in her that makes her shift restlessly on her stool at the words of 
  praise bestowed on her; however, the woman she's become that gives her 
  enough grace to take the words in the spirit they're offered, even if she 
  does it with a blush and an aversion of her eyes. "Thanks," she mutters 
  sheepishly. Her gaze doesn't stray for long, though. It comes back, still a 
  trifle awkward, but facing that which is unnerving her without fear. "So, 
  uh. I guess Windchaser's your Clan? What's the Order of the Grooved Blade?"

Jairen shakes his head. "No... the Windchaser is my tribe. The CloudStrider is 
  my clan. My tribe is the chief of the clan. The Order of the Grooved Blade 
  is what you might call..." hmms and looks thoughtful for a moment. "What is 
  the word.... a Nite-ood I think is the word."

Shenner nods, unaware of the way her posture has straightened, the way it does 
  when her teachers have been delivering her particularly riveting 
  information, nourishing that hungry curiosity in her young mind. This, too, 
  is different -- it's personal, information from someone who's become a 
  friend and a teacher himself, rather than someone paid to impart knowledge 
  upon her. She nods to herself as she comments Windchaser and CloudStrider to 
  memory, and then a smile flashes out across her face. "Knighthood," she 
  clarifies. "Like the Jedi? Except your sword's not made of light."

Jairen furrows his brow slightly. "What exactly are the Jedi? I have heard 
  that name much, but noone's been able to explain it to me satisfactorily."

Shenner blinks. "You... don't _know_?"

Jairen shakes his head. "Only that they are great warriors and have powerful 
  weapons. Other than that, little information has been reliable."

The mere notion that someone of her acquaintance would be unfamiliar with Jedi 
  takes Shenner by apparent surprise. She blinks several more times before 
  abruptly remembering her cooling kaffe; she shifts position again, grabbing 
  the cup and inhaling a long draught of what's left of its contents before 
  looking back at the blue-eyed warrior. "Damn," she breathes, "I think you're 
  the first person I've run into that doesn't know who the Jedi are." So much 
  for shock number one. Shock number two sets in as it then occurs to the 
  musician that she gets to _explain_ Jedi. "Er. Well... all the stories I 
  know say... the Jedi Knights were once the guardians of peace and justice 
  throughout the Old Republic. They, uh, they had what's called the Force, and 
  you could always tell a Jedi by his or her weapon... a lightsaber. The 
  Empire came along, and wiped most of 'em out... and since then, as far as I 
  know, there's only a handful of 'em left running around." She abruptly 
  chuckles, then, but it's a small and startled little sound, not one of 
  humor. "Oddly enough, I seem to have a habit of runnin' into 'em..."

Jairen seems to have had his own curiousity piqued this time. "The Force.. 
  what is that? what does it do? Is that what allows them to be such 
  undefeatable warriors?" His tone is eager.

_This_ is a switch. Shenner stares at Jairen for a moment or two, as if seeing 
  him for the first time, as she tries to digest the sight of _him_ reacting 
  with obvious interest to information from _her_. "I... well... keep in mind, 
  pal, I ain't no Jedi, but..." She blows out a breath, reflexively reaches up 
  a hand to run her fingers through her hair, and catches herself when she 
  realizes her hair's pretty securely braided up. The hand diverts instead to 
  pulling out her pendant, so that she can fidget with it on its chain. "This 
  is what I know, anyhow. The Force is... Jedi power, yeah, I guess. I've seen 
  it get used... " And she trails off, looking abruptly uneasy. Shenner 
  pauses, however, for only a moment. "There's... good Force and bad Force. 
  The Light Side and the Dark Side." Her voice grows softer, that edgy child 
  peeking out from behind her eyes again. This, too, is apparently uncertain 
  ground for the human girl.

Jairen cocks his head. "Light and Dark from once source...." he mumbles under 
  his breath. Looking back at Shenner. "Do Jedi have other powers besides 
  fighting? What else can they do?"

"Heal," Shenner replies immediately, with surety. "I've seen someone healed 
  with the Force, and..." She pauses, blows out a ragged breath, and concludes 
  quietly enough that only Jairen's acute hearing could hope to catch her 
  words, "It's healed me."

At the word 'Heal' Jairen's eyes get large. "Do they simply lay their hands 
  over the wounds and when they remove their hands, the wound is gone?" he 
  continues without a pause. "Can they tell when one another are near and 
  speak without words?"

Shenner has to blink a few more times as the swordsman's excited questions 
  pour over her. "Whoa, whoa, one thing at a time," she blurts out, holding up 
  her slender hands, just a trifle shaken by their abrupt role reversal. She 
  manages a little smile, then, and goes on. "Um. Okay, healing... well, Luke 
  just... touched Paul, yeah, when he got stabbed. Stopped him bleeding, 
  though it didn't really fix him all the way 'cause he, uh, Paul managed to 
  trip over a chair and start the bleeding up again inside, later." Shenner 
  doesn't bother to mention that Paul Nighman tripped over a chair because 
  he'd been trying to kiss _her_ at the time and she'd punched him, but the 
  thought brings memory back into her eyes, dark and shadowed. "And, uh, 
  well... when Sinjon did me, I was... just messed up, and he helped. Just... 
  touched me, I guess. Talkin' in your head... I..."
Shenner frowns, all at once, her expression gone distant. "I... I think they 
  can do that, yeah."

Jairen falls silent, his wine forgotten, his fingers pressed together before 
  his face as his eyes attain a distant look as who knows what is running 
  through the swordsman's mind. "One more question, do they see things before 
  they happen and things in far away places... can they move things without 
  touching them?"

"I..." Faces and impressions of memory flash through Shenner's mind; Luke 
  Skywalker's gentle blue eyes, herself sharing drinks with Jessalyn Valios 
  before either woman knew that Jessalyn had the Force, Sinjon Teague's furry 
  arms providing the young bard with desperately needed comfort. But nowhere 
  in her dealings with any of the Jedi she can arguably call friends is 
  Shenner remembering them expounding upon the full nature of their powers. "I 
  don't really know," she is forced to admit. "I know some Jedi, but... they 
  ain't exactly the kinda people that make a habit of havin' long involved 
  conversations with bar singers, y'know?" The musician smiles a little, 
  trying not to think too hard about the simple fact that for all that Luke, 
  Sinjon, and Jessalyn _are_ Jedi, and undoubtedly busy with... Jedi things... 
  she misses the company of some of the few beings in the galaxy in whose 
  company she's felt entirely safe.

Jairen suddenly stands. "I must go." he says, rather abruptly. With that, he 
  turns on his heel and heads towards the exit, disappearing out the door.

[End log.]