Log Date: 9/9/98 Log Cast: Jonathan Webb, Shenneret Veery, Raj, Zyst Parvanay Log Intro: It hasn't taken too long, much to Shenner's relief, for her to fall in fairly solidly with the band that regularly performs at the Sandbar. She has not only secured their permission to sit in on their nightly performances, she's even convinced them to let her lead the singing every so often, and it's a new and heady experience for the young musician. Oh, she's played with other musicians before -- but this is different. This is _performing_, playing for a crowd. She'd had a taste of it on Etti IV at the Free-Flight Dance Dome, and for all that the Sandbar is much smaller, much more intimate, Shen quickly falls in love with the experience. There are discordant notes in this particular melody, however. It hasn't taken her strange friend Nelun very long to disappear, either, despite her attempts to keep tabs on him. She's been quite worried about him, and between that and the wariness she feels for being on a new world to begin with, Shen's continued to be uneasy, to be on her guard. The only time she's able to relax is while singing. Tonight, she's giving it her best shot.... [Song Credits: The first song Shen and the band finish in this log is based on Heather Alexander's "March of Cambreadth" from the album _Midsummer_; the later song is essentially "Captain Jack and the Mermaid" from Meg Davis's folk tape of the same name.] ---------- Webb enters the Sandbar. Webb has arrived. Webb trudges in from outside, bringing in the pattering sound of falling rain upon pavement until the door closes behind him. For a moment he stands in the entrance-way, folding up the umbrella that he carries before proceeding towards the bar. Music fills the Sandbar, and it's Shenner holding the center stage tonight along with the usual band backing her. And she's belting out something in a fierce tempo, her voice snarling out the words as the musician's instruments lay down a martial rhythm behind her. It's a war song of some kind from the sound of it, heavy with drums, and a synthesizer skreeling out a descant over her lowly growled lyrics. Webb calls across to Ariani like he's done before last time he saw you here, "My usual!" just loud enough to be heard over your song (at the bar, at least). Today, his usual turns out to be a piping hot cup of the same citrus tea which he had iced the last time he was here. As the beverage is prepared, he turns towards the stage. A hint of a grin steadily spreads across his face. ... Midnight vacuum, star-white sun Fight to make their squadrons run Sound the klaxon, call the cry: "How many of them can we make die?!" The band fires down a riff of blazing melody, and Shenner snarls out again, four voices joining her in growling harmony: "How many of them can we make die?!" And the drum line thunders out again, as the young Twi'lek on the synthesizer and Shenner on her guitar fire out the last few bars of the melody, the musical battle over, the troops leaving the field, the song catapulting its way to a close. Webb leans back against his bar, resting his elbow upon its top as he takes a few sips of his tea. The grin spreads a little wider as he lowers his cup, suggesting that he just might be enjoying himself. Perhaps the song just might be a significant contributor to that. Applause and cheers roar their way through most of the crowd, and Shenner, grinning broadly, executes a bow while keeping a solid grip on her big guitar. "Thank you! Thank you!" And she bows another time, before holding up her hands for silence, or at least what passes for silence in a well-populated bar. "This next song," she proclaims, "is a sing-along." Webb joins into the applause, perhaps just a little louder than the others about him, as if he had some sort of special appreciation for that song. Finally his applause dwindles off with the rest, and he takes another long sip of his tea to dispel the damp chill aquired from outdoors. Raj enters the Sandbar. Raj has arrived. Zyst_Parvanay enters the Sandbar. Zyst_Parvanay has arrived. "This'll be easy," Shen goes on, as the band exchanges a few grins behind her, apparently knowing what's coming. "On every verse, I'll sing a line, and then I want everybody to let out with" -- and she sings out, high and clear: "'Ohhhhh me young ladies, go and kiss him goodbye.' Got it? Lemme hear it!" And a sizeable portion of the crowd nearest the stage promptly responds with an enthusiastic if somewhat less than tuneful attempt at the line. "Good, good!" the redheaded girl on the stage approves. Raj comes into the sandbar with Zyst. He spots Webb and heads towards him. Zyst_Parvanay follows Raj into the bar. He is frowning deeply. He sees Webb and his eyes narrow as he walks straight towards the man, ignoring everyone around him. Zyst_Parvanay looks at you for a moment. Webb sits upon a stool at the bar, sipping a cup of hot tea and generally looking quite relaxed (though a little cold and damp from outdoors) and gazing in the direction of the band, specifically the lead singer. Mostly everyone in the bar appears to be paying attention to the band up on the stage, and the young woman who is apparently serving as their lead singer tonight. She's poised with a big guitar in her hands, and as she grins at those nearest the stage, she guides them all through a second sung line: "Ohhhh, tell him young ladies, go and tell him for me, he can marry the mermaid that lives in the sea." Once the audience seems to have it down, the girl launches into the song in earnest, beginning a tale of someone named Captain Jack, some young sailor about to set out to sea. Raj arrives at Webb's location and says, "Hello, Sergeant." He gestures to Zyst, "This is Lieutenant Commander Parvanay." Zyst_Parvanay crosses his arms and says rather loudly to Webb, ignoring everyone else at the bar, "This is your example of how a Marine acts? No wonder your men are wandering all around the system. You are a disgrace sergeant!" Raj looks to Webb and it seems that his right arm needs a bit of conscious restraining. Apparently just as oblivious to the angry man who's approached Webb as Parvanay is to them, the majority of the patrons in the bar -- at least other than those who are engaged in some serious drinking -- merrily bellow out the response lines to those the redheaded singer is delivering. The girl's voice is strong and clear and in tune, and behind her, the band has joined in on the response lines, providing some actual true harmony to even out the unskilled sentients in the audience. No one is playing instruments yet, the only music being provided by the combined massed uplifted voices. Raj looks at you for a moment. Webb frowns slightly at having his attention drawn away from Shenner's song. So much for the look of having been enjoying himself... especially upon the realisation that this is to be a Zyst-related matter. He manages rather easily to keep his calm demeanor as he rises to his feet, taking up an 'attention' stance, even though he's off-duty and just came off an unspeakably long shift. He snaps off a salute that somehow manages to seem downright sarcastic as he answers in a smooth, icy tone, "Is that so?" there's a brief pause before he adds in, "Sir?" Zyst_Parvanay leans towards Webb and cocks his head slightly, "Your unit is on alert and you are in here, drinking and cavorting. That is deriliction of duty _Mister_ Webb." He streeses the mister as if it's an insult. The young private's mouth curves into an ever-so perceptible smile at the sergeants remark. He looks from Zyst to Webb, the microsmile still on his face. He wants to add something about the navy, but thinks better of it. He follows Webb's example of the attention stance. His small smile comes to a slightly defiant look. Engaged in the art of making a joyful noise, the crowd around the stage and the redheaded girl who's claimed its center continue the call-and-response through several verses. The mythical Captain Jack goes away to sea, leaving his love for three years, loyally awaiting his return. And she goes down to the sea when his ship returns, only to find that the crew has come back without him... Webb sighs and makes a point of taking a step forwards, just enought to make it so that he is now officially 'in Zyst's face'. He seems if anything, mildly irritated by Zyst's antics, and lowers his voice into a near-growl, "That's /really/ interesting sir. Last I checked, your precious flagship was sandwiched between two fleets who'd just as soon as annihilate one another, and yet you have found time to come down here and badger my troops, and to poke your nose into areas which are clearly not under your command /sir/!" Zyst_Parvanay Zyst stands a couple of inches over six feet tall. His body is fit, but couldn't be described as muscular. His skin is dark brown and his eyes are a shade of dark green that is only seen in the irises of some Hapans. His nose is smaller than proportional to the rest of his face, also a trait of some Hapans. His straight, brown hair is greying at it's fringes and cut impecably close to his head in a military style hair cut. He moves with a determined confidence and iron will. He speaks with a deep Hapan accent. He is wearing the standard work uniform of the Caspian Navy. It consists of a navy blue duty jacket clipped together diagnally from his right chest to his left side. Over his left chest is a pocket, embrodiered at it's lip it says Zyst N. Parvanay. On both sides of his collar small pips denot his rank of Lt. Commander. The pips consist of two Cason Hawks, one silver and one gold. A patch on his left should indicates his affiliation with the Caspian Navy. It's a blue sphere on a grey background with three vector apexes through it. On the grey circle background is 4 silver diamonds, two above the sphere and two below it. On his right shoulder is a patch indicating his ship. It's a swirling mass of wind over which is a vector apex and underneath, in golden yellow, the words CFC-03 CMS Typhoon. Underneath his jacket is a black turtleneck indicating he is a bridge officer. His crisply pressed black pants match his shirt and his black shoes are finely polished. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => datapad Raj Before you is a man about 6'2 in height. He has black hair. His eyes are brown. He has a slim athlete's build. Presently he wears a suit combat armour, composed of Olumic plates which seem to flex to conform to his every movement, suggesting that it's fairly comfortable to wear and doesn't present any serious impediment to his mobility. The joints between the plates are connected by a heavy, woven mesh material, affording even more mobility. This particular suit is mottled in shades of grey and blue-black. Markings are painted upon it in forest green, including a CDU Marine crest on the left shoulder, and a 10th Battalion shield upon the right, with a commando insignia just below that. Rank insignia of a Private and the name 'Raj Wezzer' are stencilled upon the left side of the chest-plate. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Descer Raj is clearly working hard to supress a smile. He remains at attention, watching the confrontation with interest. A few of the patrons around the bar are beginning to notice the argument reaking out between the military men at the bar, and one half-drunk Rodian nearby chatters out something in his native tongue, urging the arguers to keep it down. Still, most of the sentients in the place are still singing away. The redheaded girl has started adlibbing the motions of a conductor, grinning a broad lopsided grin, and then she waves everybody down into silence as the band all at once kicks in behind her with striking up a new melody line for the bridge of the song. Half the crowd knows this number and is expecting the change, but it takes the rest a bit to catch up as the girl begins to sing an interlude to the tale, in a minor key, describing exactly what happened to Captain Jack and why he didn't return with his crew. Zyst_Parvanay's cheeks flush red and he leans in, closer to Webb so that the two are nose to nose. He speaks in a slightly more quiet voice than he did last, but with meanace behind everyword, "I _am_ acting Commander of the Third Fleet, and am tasked with the protection of this system. That means I can command each and every unit in this system, and that means you. Now watch your words before I have you locked up for insubordination, don't try my patience, _Mister_." Webb lets a hint of a chuckle slip out as he shakes his head, as if he's dealing with some child who just doesn't know any better. He speaks slowly as he says, "We... are... not... third... fleet... SIR! And as far as I am concerned, you have /no/ authority to confine my troops to base, sir. Now, I would call Commander Calder, and the Colonel, and heck... maybe even a General to straighten you out, sir, but quite frankly, you are not worth their time... and given how impressed Commander Calder was the /last/ time you badgered her troops, I'm inclined to say that she will be far less patient with you than I am being right now... /SIR!/" Zyst_Parvanay steps back from Webb and folds his arms, "Madame Commander Calder will follow her orders like the good Marine she is. Now, not only your unit, but as of this point in time, all of Triumvera is on alert. You can return to your barraks at once and make preperations to repel a possible ground attack. Or..." He takes a quick look at Raj before turning his full attention back at Webb, "... you are in violation of my orders and your duty and will face an arest and court martial." Up on stage, the redheaded singer weaves out her tale of Captain Jack being seduced off his ship by a mermaid... and plaintively bidding his crew to return to his ladylove on the land, with his request for her to allow him to remain in the sea with this new paramour. Several females in the audience shout out catcalls at Jack's apparently fickle romantic interest, provoking a sardonic smirk out of the singer, though neither her voice nor her tempo falter. Raj finally takes a voice in the argument, "Um...Sergeant, I think we better head out and prepare for a _possible_ ground attack." Webb murmurs to Raj, "Return to base, Private... you don't need to be here for this anyways." Now he turns back to Zyst and takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly... then begins to speak again, "With all due respect, /sir/ you seem to not know the Commander, nor the Marines anywhere near as well as I do, /sir/. I assure you, that we are /ready/ to respond to a possible ground attack, just as we have been every bloody day since we formed, sir. And if you do try to issue an order to the Commander, she will either kindly suggest that you go frag yourself, or she will go up her chain of command to get someone to put you on a leash, sir. Now please, sir, before you make a bigger fool of youself, go back to your ship, and get a bloody clue, sir!" Zyst_Parvanay nods slowly as he calms, "I hope you enjoy the brig, Mister Webb. And as for _your_ Marines. If they're all drunken nerfs, just as you are, then not even the Great Queen Mother herself can help this planet." He surveys the bar, allowing himself to look up. He then gazes back at Webb, "_IF_ you have the guts to return to base, you'll find yourself under arrest." He turns quickly and begins to make his way through the crowd, towards the door. The musical interlude rolls back into silence, and the redhead on the stage sings out bright and clear: "Caaaaaaap-tain Jack was a young man when he went to sea...." And with this return to the main melody, the audience immediately choruses in reply: "Ohhhh me young ladies go and kiss him good bye!" And the singer calls: "He was barely a child of twenty and three..." And everyone in on the song belts out, along with the singer and the rest of the band, the joined voice filling the establishment wall to wall: "Ohh, tell him young ladies, go and tell him for me, he can marry the mermaid that lives in the sea... tell him young ladies, go and tell him for me, he can marry the mermaid that lives in the sea....!" And as the crowd finishes off the song, the bartender, Ariani, leans out from behind her post and puts in dryly, "If he got drunk on that tea I gave him, mister, he's got the damndest constitution _I_ ever saw...!" Webb sighs and turns back to Ariani, muttering under his breath, "Pompous, arrogant, clueless, utterly incompetent, worthless, insufferable, unprofessional, prancing, snot-nosed, waste of skin and son of a motherless nerf. How in /hells/ did that guy ever end up a Lt. Commander?" He takes another sip of his tea, then takes a glance over his shoulder, back towards you up upon the stage. His expression has headache written all over it. Ariani gives the young sergeant a sympathetic half-smile, her two centicreds offered forth, and over the wave of applause that bursts out at the completion of the band's performance, the woman behind the bar turns and bellows in the direction of the stage, "SHEN! Get over here, kid, get something to wet that throat of yours!" Webb turns back to the bar and slumps over, resting his face in his hands as he says, "Probably a good thing he's in the Navy though... if he ever tried to lead Marines, they'd probably shoot him in the back for their own safety." He looks up with a weary smirk upon his face. Shenner and the rest of the musicians take their bows, and as she hears Ariani's invitation, the redheaded young woman grins and departs the stage. She claps her hand against a few other young peoples' as she passes, and then, as she nudges her way through the crowd up to the bar, she calls out cheerfully, "Gimme some cider, will ya?" Ariani nods and turns to pour it up. Webb takes the last sip of his tea, then glances over at you, commenting with a tired tone to his voice, "You're doing pretty good up there tonight. Pity I missed most of the last song." Shen blinks, turning round to find Webb sitting there, and she straightens up with a bit of a blink. "Uh... well, hiya." And a somewhat lower-key edition of her lopsided smile flickers across her face. "Thanks!" Webb closes his steely grey eyes and rubs them for a moment. His grin (as opposed to a mere smirk) returns for the first time since his little conversation with that loud-mouthed Naval officer started. "So, how are you doing?" At the moment a conversation with you seems like his best hope of forgetting that particular mess. Presented with a mug of cider, Shen claims herself a seat at the bar, and smirks slightly, though not unkindly. "I'm gettin' by," she drawls noncommitally. "What bantha sat on you? You look beat." Webb chuckles quietly (and yet manages to avoid sounding all that mirthful) and explains, "A 18 hour duty shift, and about five minutes spent suffering the company of a fool. Some brat officer just threatened to have me arrested for insubordination." "Oh," says Shenner, looking Webb up and down, and then commiserating, "Sounds rough." With the smirk modulating a little towards a rueful smile, she adds, "Can't say I envy you your job, pal. You got somethin'?" She starts to turn, to wave down Ariani, to see if her companion can be fetched something to drink. Webb points to his empty cup of tea and says, "A little more caffiene, perhaps... Not too much though. My CO says I should be getting something called sleep." He lets out a quiet sigh, "That guy was really more exasperating than worrying. Oh well... he's probably reached about the end of what he can get away with. I doubt my Commander is going to be too thrilled with his attempts to throw me into the brig..." Ariani deftly plucks up the glass and strides off to fetch more tea and ice to put into it, while in the meantime, Shenner turns on her seat to lean back against the bar behind her, considering Webb over the top of her mug of cider as she drinks. "What's his problem?" she asks bluntly. "Somebody shove a hydrospanner up his backside?" Webb appears to consider that question for all of a few seconds, before he begins to nod his head up and down profusely in wholehearted agreement. He manages a slight chuckle and says, "Yeah, I couldn't have said it any better than that... so far up there you need a team of combat engineers to cram in demolition charges to dislodge it too." Shenner grins widely, eyes a bit narrowed by way of contradiction, in an edged sort of amusement. "So he wants to lock ya up? What's he think you did?" Webb raises his cup of tea, almost as if he's reciting a toast as he says, "He thinks I'm an utter disgrace to the military, that I have been derelict in my duties, and that I was being insubordinate for not bending over and licking his boots when he was out of line." The girl lets out a harsh burst of laughter. "Hah! Well, speakin' as a born insubordinate, cheers, pal." And she lifts up her mug by way of return toast, before draining down its entire remaining contents. "You give him nine kindsa hell." Webb grins broadly, seeming a little less weary for the moment, then takes a long sip of his tea, "I bloody well intend to." He chuckles quietly, then scratches his chin as he says, "If he keeps it up, maybe I can get away with striking an officer." Shen holds that crooked half-smile, half-smirk, turns and slides her empty mug off to Ariani, and then snorts in amusement. "You go! Can ya take him?" Webb's eyes roll upwards slightly as he appears to consider that question... and finally shrugs as he says in mock seriousness, "Well, I can think of several scenarios where he might stand a serious chance... all of them seem to involve him using his pretty little ship to bombard me from orbit." This seems to mightily amuse the young woman, who is grinning ear to ear now, a feral light in her green eyes. "I'll bet on ya," she offers, "if you two go at it around here." Webb seems to share most of your amusement at the prospect of flattening a certain officer hand to hand... as to wether he's seriously considering it, that's debateable, but it'd probably be pretty good stress relief if he ever tried it. An 'evil' glint that flashes in his eyes seems to confirm that at least some part of his brain does in fact desire that. "Yeah? Thanks Shen. I'm not exactly much for unnecessary violence though..." he pauses, "So the question on my mind is 'will he make it a necessity?'" "Sometimes knocking somebody upside the head is necessary," Shenner proclaims, crossing her arms and slouching there back against the bar. Webb nods slowly as he stares down into his tea, before taking another sip, "Yeah... reality of the universe, I suppose. If it weren't necessary to kick ass once in a while, people like me would be teachers or artists or something like that." Shen's expression dims down a bit, and she stares searchingly at the young man before her, before glancing off across the bar. Gruffly, she remarks, "I liked that sand thing you did." Webb rests one arm upon the bar as he lowers his cup of tea and looks across at you with a somewhat appraising glance. A grin spreads across his face at your compliment, accompanied by a slowly deepening blush, "Um... well, thanks." Huh, Shenner thinks to herself, somewhat edgily amused that a young man who'd been trying to boast of plans to knock a superior officer into next week is now blushing over praise to his artistic talents. "Hey, artist to artist," she answers, her tone light. "S'only fair, ya liked my song." Webb nods slowly and emits a quiet chuckle as he says in a tone which betrays maybe a hint of disbelief still, "Yeah, that's true. I guess it is only fair, after all." His grin seems to fade in and out, almost nervously. Maybe it's been a while since he got a compliment that sincere for playing in the sand... Shen's dark red brows lift somewhat at the wavering grin, though she doesn't catch much of the chuckle under the din that still sounds in the bar. _What'd I say?_ she wonders bemusedly. And, with a straight face, she leans closer to Webb and informs him, "Ya look like you forgot to put your pants on before comin' in here, ya know." Webb raises his own eyebrows slightly at that statement as he attempts to fathom the meaning. You actually catch him glancing down at his khakis before he says, "Funny... looks like they're still there to me." Shenner mostly succeeds in stifling her snicker. Then, diverting the subject, she asks, "So. You plannin' on hangin' out here longer tonight, or what?" Webb's grin lights up again as he detects the signs of amusement that his comment evokes, "Oh. I'm seriously considering it. Why do you ask?" "Curious, 'sall," says the redhead. "I gotta start singin' again in a little bit, nice to know there'll be at least one appreciative set of ears around here, ya know?" Webb nods a little and says, "I'll stay... for a little while longer at least. If I walk out though, it's because there's a warm bed calling me that I've been neglecting a little too much lately... not because of the singing." Shenner gets to her feet, still grinning a bit, though more subdued again. "Well, don't let me keep ya on your feet, pal. I sing pretty loud, mostly." Webb is suddenly wracked by a rather profound yawn, in spite of his consumption of caffinated beverages. He squints his eyes and mutters, "Ugh. On second thought... that bed's call is starting to sound pretty sweet about now." He rises slowly to his feet, his steps wobbling slightly, provoking the question of just how long it's been since he really slept. Shen crooks an eyebrow, then glances stageward and back to the young man before her once more. "You better go crash," she suggests, her gruff tones gentling a bit. "This ain't the place to keel over, unless you're drunk." Webb yawns again, nodding wholeheartedly in agreement, before turning to trudge off towards the door of the establishment. He pauses to offer you a single wave, before stepping out into the cool rainy night. Shen tosses off a return wave of her own, and only then does she turn to rejoin her compatriots up on the stage, to resume the task of filling the Sandbar with song. Webb walks out of the Sandbar and the door closes automatically. Webb has left. [End log.]