Log Date: 6/21/99 Log Cast: Jairen, Shenner, Ariani (NPC), Kyyel, Avy, Dyrna Log Intro: Over the last few days the relative calm of Shenner's existence has been shaken up and down by a pair of vehement arguments she's had with two of her closest friends -- Jairen Windchaser, the elegant Jaer warrior who's been teaching her swordplay, and Jonathan Webb, the Marine lieutenant who was the first friend she made when she set foot on Caspar. Since both of those arguments took place, matters have progressed between Shen and Webb, prompted by a late-night visit of his to her apartment, and she still hasn't quite gotten a grip on the ramifications of _that_ little visit -- but the young musician is still quite moody over the fight with Jairen, and has been avoiding the Sandbar over the last couple of days for fear of running into him. Eventually, though, aware that she can't really stay away from her place of employment for too long, she ventures back into the bar one morning, only to discover that Jairen has been taking measures to make up to her for having rattled her trust in him so badly... ---------- The Sandbar A large, comfortable room creates the main part of Plaxton City's infamous Sandbar, survivor of no less than three rounds of destruction, once more back on its feet. Refurbished to much the same state it had enjoyed prior to the invasion of Caspar at Imperial hands, the place boasts dark wood panelling on its walls, and myriad booths and tables of occasionally battered but sturdy lighter wood, and a number of both old and brand new holoposters hung here and there on the walls. Several deep blue glass windows allow light in from outside, while keeping the ambient light level fairly low. The marble bar that survived the recent war still remains, more battered than before, but once again serving as the domain of Ariani; the loft, too, has been restored, providing yet more seating and an excellent view of the low stage towards the back of the room, where the local band called the Womprats play each night. ----For help with tables, type "PLACE HELP" ----For help with drinks, type "BAR HELP" ----For a closer look at the room's details, type "DETAIL LIST" -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => D2 => The Sandbar's Band: The Womprats(#5983) => Emma => Ariani -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- leads to Fountain Square - Plaxton City. Jairen enters the Sandbar. Jairen has arrived. Although the urge has powerfully struck her, Shenner hasn't, in fact, fled out of the city on the private camping trip she's been thinking about ever since her argument with her sword teacher. Moody, disheveled, and looking worn around her edges, the young singer has shown up again this afternoon in the Sandbar. Under Ariani's kindly concerned eye, she's getting shakla (without the brandy) and a big sticky pastry to nibble on, and a sympathetic ear. Ariani in turn is getting Shen's gruff, sheepish mutter of, "Yeah, well, I guess I'll be in tonight. I've been kicking around feeling sorry for myself long enough." Ariani prudently chooses not to comment on this, and smiles instead, lightly. "The band's missed you, kiddo; so've the crowds. It'll do you good to do some serious jamming." The door opens and said sword teacher steps through. His left hand rests on his sword hilt, as usual. However, under his right arm is a fairly decent sized package. He crosses the floor towards the bar, sighting the reason he is here. However, he stops at the Scrolls poster, eyeing it slightly. Those who know him can probably guess that he's analysing the stances and such of the people in the 'sword fight' stills. Shaking his head slightly, he turns and continues on his way to the bar. This 2-d holographic poster is obviously brand new, bordered in a gold metallic frame, and protected behind a thin layer of glass. The title _Thieves of the Sacred Scrolls_ is emblazoned in colorful script across the bottom, beneath the passionately kissing figures of rakishly handsome Corellian adventurer Thane Grayson and the voluptuous and plucky redhead Miriam Marshallan, the hero and heroine of the holovid version of the first of a popular string of adventure novels. Around the entwined pair are smaller stills from the recently released production, featuring sword fights and desperate chases and exotic locales. The names Jacob Rawn Deegan and Yira Cardain have billing over the title. Well, the actors portrayed in the 2-d holoposter of _Thieves of the Sacred Scrolls_ certainly get ogled enough; that's hardly unusual. Jairen's approach to the bar, though, does catch Ariani's attention, and the bartender straightens up a little as the swordsman draws near. "Be right back," she murmurs to Shenner, turning to attend to a newly arrived customer... and leaving Jairen a spot of privacy. One astute gray glance towards the swordsman and his bundle is her only greeting. "Sure," Shen can be heard to mutter, slouching there against the bar, her back to the approaching Jairen, one hand on her shakla mug and the other on the necklace at her throat. Kyyel walks into the Sandbar slowly, then looks around with a quick glance. A slight smile greets those that care to look up towards the pilot's entrance, and he makes his way towards the bar slowly. Jairen moves towards the young singer at the bar, though he had hardly been 'ogling' at the poster just now. As he arrives directly behind the redhaired young woman, he pauses for a moment before speaking. "Good day, Initiate." he starts in his normal musical but neutral tone. "I do believe it is time for another lesson." Shenner stiffens where she sits. Ariani, in her position behind the bar, can catch sight of the strained expression that shoots across the musician's face -- but by the time the russet-haired singer's turned around, a semblance of calm has settled across her features. Setting down her mug and releasing her absentminded hold on her pendant, Shen fixes a shielded gaze upon Jairen and greets him in a neutral tone of her own, "As you wish. I'll apologize for my behavior first, if that's all right. It won't happen again." Where the cadences of Jairen's accent hold music, those of Shenner's hold nothing, not even her usual lax pronunciation and grammar; only a slight roughness to her voice betrays anything beneath her impassive tone. Kyyel looks over towards the conversation between Shenner and Jairen curiously, then shrugs, and sits down at the bar, ordering a mug of ale. "That is quite alright." Comes Jairen's response. "It was a reaction that was natural and one that did no harm other than inconvience us and a few other patrons of the cantina." Looks around a bit. "I see you do not have your practice blade with you." A small smile creeps into the corners of his mouth for a mere instant, but is gone again quickly. "No," Shenner replies succintly and coolly, "I'm not." She shifts around on the stool to face Jairen more squarely, and appends, "If you wish a workout, you'll have to wait till I return to my apartment to fetch it." Jairen simply shakes his head. "It is not needed for this lesson." Withdraws the package and holds it out with his right hand. A flicker of startlement momentarily disrupts the mask of reserve that Shen is displaying to the swordsman. Bemused green eyes shift their gaze to the package he holds forth, and dark red brows wing down over those eyes in consternation. "What's that?" she asks, perhaps a trifle warily. "The subject of your next few lessons." comes a short, to the point answer. "We shall leave off on the weapons training for a while." Kyyel gives Ariani some Galactic Standard Credits. Shenner's gaze flicks back up to Jairen's face, her eyes narrowing for a moment as she studies his -- to her -- impassive countenance. Fine, then; two can play the cool and collected game, and she is still interested in learning more to refine her sword techniques from his man, even if her personal trust of him has been rattled, and his characteristic enigmatic behavior often frustrates her to no end. Seeing no change in that behavior here, she simply nods then, reaching to accept the bundle and open it up, her withdrawn mask firmly in place across her own visage. Ariani works with grace as she makes a water and serves it to Kyyel. Inside the beige cloth is a book. Yes, a book. It is fairly large, beeing three or four inches thick, 14 inches tall, and 10 inches wide. It is bound in black leather, though it's obviously not new, and locked with a simple bronze clasp with a release switch. On the cover there is some unreadable script of some sort. As the weighty tome is brought out into view, Shen blinks. Twice. Her expression begins to shift as something in the back of her head -- something that had been brought into life by a xenoarchaeologist of her acquaintance and further nurtured by her own craving for knowledge -- begins to react, at least subconsciously, to the sense of age about the object she now holds. She tilts the volume over to carefully support it against her forearm, while touching a cautious fingertip first to the bronze clasp and then to the unfamiliar, unintelligible script. It takes her several seconds before she's able to speak, and then it is in a suspiciously less neutral tone than she'd used before: "What's this?" "What does it look like?" Jairen asks, his other hand now moving to his sword hilt. "It is a book. You have seen books before, have you not? They are how information was stored before datapads and computers and the like." Shenner's expression swiftly darkens, and she snaps, "Look, Jair, if you're just going to patronize me, stop it right now. I ain't up for it. I know it's a karkin' book. What are you givin' it to _me_ for?" Evidently, the young bard is not as impassive as she pretends; a flash of hurt sparks behind her eyes for a moment before she fiercely tamps it down. "Open it." Shenner scowls, aggravated that, as seems to be normal for him, Jairen Windchaser is declining to give her a simple answer to a simple question. "Okay," she mutters, "okay, fine." With that, she moves her hand to the bronze clasp, to see if opening the thing is as simple as it looks. From her expression, one might suspect she half-expects the thing to be booby-trapped. The book does open quite simply. As the cover is removed, there is more script from the unknown language, though Jairen's name is writtin about halfway down the title page in basic. After the titlepage there is a contents, still written in the same script. A few blank pages later the content of the book starts. Small triangles and other shapes on rows of eight lines and spaces with small symbols at the beginning of each line. The swordsman simply stands there and watches. Still supporting the open book against her slender forearm, Shenner gingerly makes contact with the pages, turning each with caution. Her attention pauses on the familiar words on the title page, the only ones that make sense to her as she begins to skim through the subsequent content. Twenty or thirty pages in she begins skipping forward several pages at a time to see if the unintelligible content continues, and at last she looks up. Her expression has shifted again, tinged with mounting confusion and frustration not yet counterbalanced by the curiosity beginning to sneak up behind those other sentiments. "All I can tell about this is, you either wrote it or it belongs to you, 'cause it's got your name at the front. I can't read it. What _is_ this?" Her voice begins to roughen, reflecting that same frustration darkening her eyes; she seems, now, inordinately weary. Jairen smiles. "Think Shenner. What is the closest thing you've seen that it is similar to?" Ariani, behind the bar, has paused to watch this exchange from a discreet distance, her eyebrows arched. Unaware of the older woman's scrutiny, Shenner blows out a hissing breath between gritted teeth, suppressing the urge to smack Jairen upside his elegant head simply because she has enough respect for an obviously old book to avoid the risk of damage to it. She counts to ten under her breath in Corellian, and then takes another look at some of the initial pages with their rows of symbols. Reluctantly and grumpily she then concedes, "One of two things come to mind. Either it's text in your own language, though I ain't never seen a language that uses symbols like this, or it's..." Abruptly, she freezes. "Or it is what?" The swordsman promts, hands still on his sword. "Musical notation," Shenner rasps then, her gaze lifting once more. The mask across her features visibly begins to crumble, with her eyes going wide in her suddenly ashen face. Jairen nods slightly. "Very good. You see, I need someone to help me translate it into the standard notation of the sector. I do not have enough skill to do so. And since musical notation is part of the standard training regime..." It's probably a good thing Shenner is sitting down; otherwise, with the way her knees have weakened, she might well have fallen over, and never mind the weight of the book she's still holding. For several long seconds, she is utterly unable to think of a single thing to say, her mind gone totally blank with the impact of what she's just been handed, her throat gone dry. At last, she struggles to wrap her thoughts around the gift, to get it into terms she can comprehend. "Book's... full?" she croaks. "Songs? J-Jaer songs, _your_ songs, what?" The answer comes in a simple nod. "Yes. To both questions. The first couple of sections are Jaer music from the homeworld. The last few pieces are the short ones I have written myself. They will be easier to translate." "I'm... not a... xenomusicologist yet," Shenner blurts huskily, still looking shell-shocked. "I'm not even remotely trained enough yet... shit, Jair, you should get a professional to work on this..." This. Translation: potentially one of the biggest finds in the field of xenomusicology to occur in years. The kind of thing on which theses are written, careers are launched... and the kind of thing that leaves one staggered, humbled, thunderstruck, if one happens to be a self-proclaimed, self-taught bard who's had only a short span of months' worth of a formal education in general, much less education in her desired field of study. Jairen takes the book, closinging it. He holds it in one hand, the othe hand resting on top of it. "Shenner, inside this book is the earliest tradition of record keeping of any civilization. Music. Saga. Storytelling. In here are the histories of my poeople, the heros, the villains, the myths, and the legends. This volume contains answers to questions about the Jaer you have not even pondered as of yet." It is all too apparent that the import of what Jairen offers is not in the slightest lost upon Shenner. She releases her hold on the book with both reluctance and reverence, thinking wildly, _Now I know how Paul felt getting ready for Mandalore..._ When she manages to speak again, it's in a very small, humble voice, as she reiterates hoarsely, "You oughtta get a pro..." And Ariani straightens a bit, giving Jairen -- or at least aiming in his direction -- a meaningful look. She crosses her arms and leans against the counter behind her, wondering if the swordsman is liable to figure out that Shenner is speaking much more from feeling unworthy than feeling ungrateful. Jairen shakes his head, holding the book out again. "It is not for them. It is for you." Avy enters the Sandbar. Avy has arrived. Pushing open the door to the familiar SandBar, Avy takes a deep breath of the cool, pre-circulated air and seems to visibly relax for a moment. Her two everpresent bodygaurds follow through the doors shortly behind her and she glances back with a quick acknowlegement before beginning to make her way through the sparse afternoon crowd and take a seat at the bar. Jairen stands in front of the bar, holding a large leather bound book out to shenner. Three figures are in immediate sight within the room: Ariani is the first, leaning against the counter behind her and archly if discreetly studying the other two, Jairen and Shenner. Of the latter two, Shenner is looking exactly as if someone has smacked her on the back of her head with a boulder, and is staring up at Jairen before her, her expression full of a tangle of reactions that could mean practically anything. The young musician certainly doesn't notice the entrance of her employer; Ariani does, however, blinking. The woman behind the bar slips over to meet Ms. Laarken, murmuring, "Afternoon, ma'am; can I get you something?" Shen, in the meantime, swallows hard, wrestling to hang onto her composure. "How..." That word comes out almost too hoarsely to be comprehended, and she wets her lips to try again: "How long can I borrow it for...?" "As I said." the seeminly always-stoic swordsman says. "It is for you." That is all the answer he gives, still holding the book out to the thunderstruck singer. Avy smiles at Ariani and nods. "Afternoon... Grab me something cold and fizzy, would ya?" she inquires before casting a wayward glance towards the baffled bardling and her conversation partner. "I can do that," Ariani replies, her mood beginning to improve as she casts a glance of her own at Shen and Jairen. By way of explanation to the President, the bartender murmurs wryly, "Long story," before preparing something suitably cold and fizzy, soda water flavored with blended fruit juices and just a dab of cream mixed in. This gift, this treasure, this key to a substantial portion of a culture unknown to practically everyone in this part of space, is to be _hers_. Shenner reels as that idea finally begins to sink in, and it is with trembling hands that she reaches once more for the big black volume. The impassive mask with which she had greeted Jairen before has vanished entirely, leaving an expression that shows all too clearly how profoundly moved she has become. "Thanks," she whispers, unable to manage any more of a reply than that, but conveying much in that one single syllable. Jairen smiles slightly as he releases the hold on the book, letting Shenner take the prize. "As I said, Shenner, it is time for a lesson. I did not say what kind of a lesson or who the lesson was for." Avy chuckles slightly and softly as Ariani delivers the fragrant concoction to the bar in front of her. "Shen always was a minimalist when it came to words." she murmurs with a smile, and takes a drink of the frothy treat. Dressed in normal civilian attire, for once, Dyrna steps into the bar, glancing around with appreciation at the newly restored interior. She notes with satisfaction her table...i.e. the one she helped assemble, and heads over to it, smiling and humming to herself. Oddly enough, she doesn't say anything to anyone. She just sits down, making herself comfortable as if she grew up in the place. Still just a bit too overwhelmed to catch the meaning in Jairen's words, Shen only blinks a time or two at that particular enigmatic remark of his -- but that's fine. Ariani has caught it, and does understand it, and the grin she flashes the silver-haired swordsman relays firm approval. "At least when it comes to gifts," she tells Avy in a wry undertone. And then she raises her voice to call over cheerfully to Dyrna, "Hey there, can we get you something?" Ariani's call rattles Shenner into looking wildly around, then. Avy Laarken is immediately spotted, along with her discreetly lurking bodyguards, and the young singer manages a shaken nod in greeting. Then, cradling the book protectively nearer to herself, she mumbles to Jairen, "It's... gonna be a while before I can give you any decent help on this... you're gonna hafta teach me to read it... the notation a-as well as the script..." Jairen nods slightly, hands resting on his sword hilt again. "That is part of the lesson." turns to Avy Laarken and bows deeply. "Good eve to you my Lady. How do you fair?" he asks in his melodic accent. A nod of fiery curls is Dyrna's response to Ariani. "Sure! Why not? Got any Corellian Ale?" Unable to keep from winking at the question, she settles back into her chair happily, dropping her chin into her hand. Avy laughs softly and nods, continuing to sip on her refreshing drink. With the bow and greeting from Jairen, the redheaded woman dons a warm smile. "I am quite well, in fact. And thank you kindly for asking." She beams at the swordsman. Jairen straightens, laying his hands on his sword hilt again. "Corellian ale, Corellian brandy, Corellian whiskey, and Corellian wine, honey, Corellia's four major forms of liquid nutrition," Ariani calls back over to Dyrna dryly as she steps over to pick out a glass and an ale to pour into it. "Name your brewer." Shenner, in the meantime, as Jairen's attention shifts over to Avy, glances the woman's way herself. The singer's face is still full of a veritable collision of barely suppressed emotions, and she croaks out huskily, "Glad to see ya, Miz Laarken..." It seems important to her to make sure the woman knows _someone_ is happy to see her, at any rate. A genuine smile overcomes Avy's face as Shenner greets her. "Hi Shenner..." she says softly, and with a look of releif in her eyes at the even distant company of someone she feels at least a little near to. "How are ya, hon?" Asking in an almost big-sisterly way to the young musician. Jairen bows slightly as the two women start a conversation, taking a step or two back, then heading towards the booth in the back. "Surprise me," Dyrna calls amiably without removing her chin from her hand. Finally, she takes the time to survey the room, noticing Shenner for the first time. One of her eyebrows creeps up casually, but she doesn't say anything, not wanting to interrupt the conversation. Shen's green glance shifts to follow Jairen as he withdraws; it's fairly easily gleaned that that particular silver-haired individual is the cause of the still fervently moved expression the girl wears. She rises to her feet, carefully putting back into place the beige cloth that had been wrapped about the big leather-bound volume in her arms. Just as carefully, she approaches Avy, venturing an awkward little smile. How is she? Hoo boy, tough question, given the way she's somersaulted all over the emotional spectrum the last three or four days. "I'm... a little... floored," she rasps out at last, by way of some serious understatement. "Listen... I just had to say, Miz Laarken... I-I been hearin' rumors that bother the hell outta me, you probably know 'em already, but just in case... there's a lotta cranky people around. Cranky at you. Y'know...?" Jairen dissapears among the patrons. Ariani selects herself a bottle of some of her better stock of Corellian ales, and pours Dyrna out a portion of the foamy stuff into her glass before taking it over to the woman. As she goes, the bartender flashes Shenner a glance. She's heard a lot of these same rumors; Shen's words don't surprise her. Jairen slips into the booth. It is time he was out of the conversation for a while. Avy grins and nods at Shen; "Floored, hmm? I can see that..." she winks. But, as the bard continues, Avy's face falls and she nods, looking a little dissapointed and hurt. "Yes....Yes, I've heard them.." she frowns, pausing to control her stutter. I'm keeping pretty busy trying to salve some people's wounds at this point, honestly. It's...its hard." she manages with a slight, but forced smile, and a glance back into her fruity colored glass. Dyrna accepts the glass gratefully, taking a long swig of the smooth liquid before settling it easily down on the table. After gracing Ariani with a smile, she withdraws into her own little world, staring down at some crack in the floor. Jairen seems to meld into the background of the shadows. Shenner shifts the now-rewrapped book into the crook of her left arm, stepping forward close enough to reach for and clasp Avy's shoulder with her right hand. Nodding anxiously, hating to jar the President's jovial mood but expecting she'd hate herself even more if she didn't speak and something happened because of it, the singer pleads, "Watch your back, Miz Laarken. I..." The hand squeezes the shoulder, then withdraws, as Shenner steels herself and huskily appends, "... owe ya a lot, and... I'd... really hate it if somebody, um... did you like they did Admiral Taylor." This, for Shen, is pretty much tantamount to a declaration of daughterly love, and her face flushes red as she manages to get the words out. Avy's skijump nose crunches slightly and her chin seems to tremble for a moment, and she nods. A silent affirmation that she's just as worried as Shenner is, and that she's certainly glad someone is worried at all. Her own hand reaches up to give the redheaded bardling's a quick squeeze. "Th...Thank you, Shenner..." she smiles, yet can't seem to find many more words than that. With a quick glance to her trusted bodygaurds she slips off her seat, and stands. "I'm going to get back to the office, speaking of which..." she utters gravely, with a comforting nod to Shen. "Thanks again, hon." she almost whispers, before sweeping herself up and towards the door. That's enough for Shenner, for now. She bobs her head shakily... and waits for Avy and her guards to make their exit first, giving them space to withdraw before she, too, takes her own leave -- turning to announce hoarsely to Ariani, and casting a look back in the direction of the silent Jairen as she does so, that she must take the book to a safe place... but that tonight, for the first time in days, she'll be back on stage to sing. [End log.]