Log Date:
	6/18/99

Log Cast:
	Jairen, Ariani (NPC), Emma (NPC), The Womprats (NPCs)
	(All NPCs emitted by Shenner.)

Log Intro:
	Shenner and her sword teacher Jairen Windchaser have gotten into
a vehement argument over Jairen's choosing to leave her to her own devices
after the two of them had had an impromptu swordfight in the Fountain Square
-- and had been cornered by security forces less than thrilled about their
fighting in a public place. The young musician has let her teacher know in
no uncertain terms that she is furious at his abandonment -- much to Jairen's
shock, for he had had no idea that his human pupil would react in such a
way to his action, nor that he had inadvertantly stung one of the most
sensitive places of Shen Veery's soul.
	While Shen has fled from the Sandbar, the silver-haired Jaer warrior
has remained in that worthy establishment, musing on what has befallen
him and what he's discovered about his pupil...

----------
Jairen sits in the back. He has a drink, but hasn't touched it, sitting there 
  staring into it like he has been for who knows how long. He hasn't left the 
  cantina all day and has been sitting in this booth for hours, unmoving, 
  making no noise. He hasn't eaten, he hasn't drank, and some would probably 
  swear on their grave he hasn't blinked. He just stares intently into the 
  liquid in the glass before him, hands on the table around the bottom of the 
  glass.

And ever since Shenneret Veery stalked out of the bar on the verge of what 
  Ariani had recognized as tears, the redheaded lead singer of the Womprats 
  hasn't set foot again in the place. Ariani's as aware of that as she has been 
  of Jairen Windchaser's failure to leave, and for the most part, she's been 
  content to leave the swordsman alone. If she's got an opinion on what she saw 
  transpire, she's kept it to herself. Only those who know the woman well would 
  be able to sense that keen disapproval is lurking behind her gray eyes; to 
  the casual glance, however, she's doing her job as usual, shucking off drinks 
  to customers, calling out orders for her little sister as Emma scurries 
  about.

The Womprats have shown up as per usual for the evening's performance -- and 
  Aa'leet, Karm, Tethra and even Loren have been taken aback by the absence of 
  their lead singer. Even they, however, get the explanation Ariani's been 
  offering to anyone who's cared to ask about Shenner: "She's called in sick."

Jairen isn't paying attention to the band members, not responding to them at 
  all if they manage to spot him and inquire about Shen's health. He just sits 
  there, quiet, brooding, unknown and unmentionable thoughts running through 
  his very alien mind.

The more astute members of the band -- Karm and her brother Tethra -- have 
  indeed spotted the being they've all come to know as Shenner's sword teacher. 
  However, they do have a job to do, and even if they're without the redheaded 
  singer tonight, it's still up to them to provide some music for those who 
  drop by the bar. Short a guitar, though, the Womprats' sound is diminished in 
  volume and strength, and it's Aa'leet, the band's most sensitive member, who 
  somehow manages to find a musical theme that sets the tone for the evening. 
  Mostly instrumental and in primarily minor keys, their performance tonight 
  has been uncharacteristically understated.

Now, though, the bar's hours are drawing to a close. The band's starting to 
  look a little weary around the edges. And Ariani, regardless of what 
  opinions she might be harboring about the argument that took place in her 
  bar this morning, isn't about to let anyone just sit in the joint when it's 
  her responsibility to secure it for the night. And so, as customers in 
  various states of intoxication begin wobbling out into the night, the 
  bartender eventually takes a free moment to stride over to Jairen's table. 
  She studies him for a long moment, and then pronounces in cool tones, 
  "Excuse me, but you're going to have to be leaving soon. We're closing for 
  the night in half an hour."

Jairen doesn't move or speak for a few moments longer, but continues to stare 
  into the glass. He at first doesn't even acknowledge Ariani's presence. Then, 
  finally, he simply says, "I am sorry." No explanation, not other words, no 
  movement.

A woman of a less intuitive nature might have taken the warrior's comment for a 
  simple apology for his failure to leave the bar in a timely fashion. A woman 
  of a less confrontational nature might have simply nodded and gone about her 
  business. However, as it happens, Ariani doesn't move, her impassive gaze 
  resting on the man who's been teaching her young friend, a sharp glint in 
  her stare the only sign that as far as she is concerned, this teacher has a 
  lesson or two to learn himself. "I," she replies tersely, "am not the one 
  you should be saying that to."

Jairen continues to stare into the glass. "I had no idea she would react in 
  such a way." He blinks for the first witnessed time in hours. "I simply had 
  no idea. Such things are common place in standard Jaer warrior training. 
  Unexpected situations. Solutions needed on the spot. I got so enveloped with 
  the procedure of the training," pauses and actually rubs his eyes, "I forgot 
  that the young woman I train is not a Jaer..."

The instrumental number the musicians on the stage are putting out provides a 
  moody counterpoint to the lowly voiced admission -- but isn't loud enough to 
  keep Ariani from hearing it. Just a trifle, the disapproval hardening her 
  eyes lessens, in acknowledgement of Jairen's words. "No, she's not," she 
  answers, equally quietly, but more focused, more grim. "She's as human as we 
  come." Never mind that the woman's Sar spots are quite visible for any to 
  see; Sarians are merely a spotted flavor of the species, after all. "And 
  while we're on the topic, you might also keep in mind that she's a young 
  woman who's already risked her life time and again saving civilians in that 
  little war we just had, often rather than going head to head with the Imps 
  herself. I don't know where you got the idea that Shen needs to be taught 
  how to get out of something without fighting, but from where I stand, pal, 
  it looks like you're trying to set in a course after the ship's already gone 
  into hyperspace."

That's a great analogy, however, Jair isn't the most techologically adept 
  person in the galaxy, and doesn't get it. Gets close, but the terminology 
  escapes him. He picks up the glass in one hand, swirling its contents, 
  staring into the liquid. Suddenly, he seems very young, despite his 
  centuries of year on everyone here. It is entirely possible that, considering 
  his race's lifespan, he's techinically younger than the girl he trains. "I 
  knew nothing of such actions... I had to be sure... but I should have found a 
  better way to test it." Suddenly, the glass shatters /into/ the swordsman's 
  left hand as he crushes it, wine and blood mixing as it slices his hand 
  open. "Curse me and my foolish arrogance."
This last bit is actually said at a normal conversational level.

The tinkle of breaking glass turns several heads in Jairen's and Ariani's 
  direction; so does Ariani's shout of "Emma! Get the medikit and a coupla 
  towels!" to the waitress. Wide-eyed, the bartender's little sister ducks 
  behind the bar to fetch what has been requested. She scurries up to hand 
  them over, staring with dismay at Jairen and his wounded hand before Ariani 
  waves her to deal with the table. Jairen, she deals with herself. She holds 
  out a clean towel and the small medikit, expecting any being who's been 
  around for two centuries to be competent enough to tend his own minor hurts 
  -- and besides, she's not quite convinced she should be charitable yet. 
  "Yep, right again," she says curtly. "Seems to me there's plenty you don't 
  know about Shen yet, which does make me wonder what possessed you to decide 
  a girl you barely know ought to be your cousin."

Jairen doesn't deal with his hand. Instead, he watches it intensely, blood 
  dripping from the cuts, glass embeded. In fact, he doesn't even release his 
  fist that he's made. He sits there like that for a while, not moving or 
  speaking for those few moments. "She and I are more similar than you might 
  think, m'lady." he finally says, sounding much more like himself. Maybe the 
  pain of that glass in his hand snapped him out of it. Maybe not. "Both 
  seeking a place to call home, not able to return. Our families outside of 
  our reach." He's still watching his hand. "And she earned the respect and 
  title I gave her that day. With every breath she took during the fight 
  against the Imperials, she earned it. As for how to proceed now, I know 
  not."

Emma straightens up from mopping the spill of blood-streaked wine on the 
  tabletop, bites her lip, and pipes anxiously to Jairen, "Uh, you should fix 
  your hand up, y'know?" Ariani, however, waves her off, and the younger woman 
  reluctantly retreats, troubled by the change in the elegant individual who'd 
  danced with her not too long ago in this very bar. Once her sister is out of 
  earshot, though, Ariani says, gravely and steadily, "Shen confided in Rekkie 
  a lot more than she did me -- but I can tell you this. She's carrying a 
  whole helluva lotta hurt, she's almost as paranoid about cops as she is 
  about Imperials, and before she came to Caspar, she didn't have any real 
  friends -- or anybody who cared about her like family. You wanna go 
  volunteering yourself to fill the void, well, the first thing I'd suggest 
  you do is go make up to her for bailing out on her when she was in trouble 
  you got her into in the first place."

Jairen's finger finally unravel from the tight fist they're in, revealing the 
  multiple cuts and glass stilll in his hand. He slowly starts to draw the 
  shards out of his flesh. "I know not how to do so... I fear I have erred to 
  the point where I cannot mend." he isn't looking at Ariani as he says this, 
  continuing to pick glass out of his hand. "It is an unfortunate mistake that 
  was brought on only by my arrogance."

As long as Jairen seems inclined to attend to his bleeding palm, Ariani's only 
  action to further that along is to scoot the medikit his way on the now-wiped 
  tabletop. "If you caused hurt to a family member where you come from, how 
  would you make amends?" she inquires coolly.

Jairen finishes removing the glass from his palm, finding the medkit and 
  applying some salve, then the bandages, stopping the bleeding. Closes the 
  kit, then slides it back to Ariani with a nod of thanks. "I would go to them 
  and we would discuss the offense and possible recourses of action. However, 
  a family member on my homeworld would not have reacted thus. We... we do not 
  think the same or consider things the same as does a human. I seem to need to 
  learn this lesson multiple times every time period I stay here. I..." shakes 
  his head as words that few have heard cross his lips. It seems to be Ariani's 
  day to hear odd things. "I am at a loss for actions."

She doesn't actually -say- it, but the words 'Uh huh, I thought so' might be 
  easily gleaned out of the momentary smirk that crosses the auburn-haired 
  bartender's face. As three more patrons stagger out the door and Emma takes 
  a last round to the sleepy group at one of the front tables, Ariani crosses 
  her arms and nods measuringly. "Okay, yeah, we're not so rational. Let me 
  ask you this: do you care about her?"

The swordsman gives a small nod. "She is my friend, as well as my student."

"Then prove to her," Ariani replies without batting an eye, "that you care 
  about her. Not 'cause she's your student, or your Initiate, or your squire, 
  or whatever other title that really doesn't mean a damned thing when you get 
  down to it because your homeworld's too far away for anybody there to give a 
  damn anyway. Prove you care about her because she's _Shen_. Do something 
  that's gonna mean something to her above and beyond the fact that you can 
  smack her into next week with your sword, and you can spout a lot of pretty 
  words. Any ideas, or do you want me to suggest something for that, too?" 
  With that, her dark brows go up over those assessing gray eyes of hers.

Jairen looks back down at his bandaged hand. "Considering my record on such 
  thing, advice would be welcome if you wish to give it, m'lady." He says 
  without looking back up again for a moment, then meets Ariani's eyes. "I 
  have no wish to see the hurt I have place Shenner in continue if there is 
  something I can do about it. My foolish actions have stained her soul. I must 
  do what I can to rectify."

Those humble statements are enough to bring a grudging approval into the 
  bartender's countenance. "All right," she gruffly replies. "Short term: if it 
  were me, I'd take her a gift. Long term: well. You heard what she said; she's 
  got a pretty developed opinion on how her life works, doncha think? I'd 
  suggest you consider pitching in on the attempt to convince her otherwise."

Jairen seems to be amused at something in that comment, for he actually smiles. 
  Not much, but it is a smile. "I am told floral arrangments and small boxes of 
  sweets do help greatly in such matters." is the first comment. "As for the 
  second part, there is the difficulty. How do I show her that she does not 
  have to walk her path alone?"

Ariani, to the first half of the swordsman's remark, snorts audibly. "Flowers 
  and chocolates are nice, but only if you plan on trying to court her, and 
  even aside from the current circumstances _that'd_ be a really lousy idea. 
  Musical instruments are more Shen's speed. She's always got that ocarina with 
  her, you must have noticed that by now." At his question, she leans forward a 
  little, and concludes, "Walk it with her. Don't vanish off when it suits you 
  and neglect to tell her why. There's not much I've seen that scares that 
  kid, but that does."

Jairen shake his head slightly. "I have not the funds to purchase a decent 
  instrument for her to play. I certainly do not want to give a false 
  impression of attempting to court her. That will drive her away even 
  further." hmms and seems to contemplate this for a moment.

"Music, then," Ariani promptly replies. "That's really what made her sit up 
  and take notice of you in the first place, you know. She _still_ talks about 
  what you did on that guitar of hers, months ago. I catch her trying to 
  duplicate it before the others get in for rehearsal every so often." She 
  waits then, expectantly, eyebrows slightly arched. The sleepy crowd at the 
  front table, laughing amongst themselves, fumble for credits to pile on the 
  tabletop, and in a loose and contented cluster they wander out the door. On 
  stage, Aa'leet breathes a quiet good night into her miniature microphone... 
  and the Womprats close their final number.

Jairen's eyes lighten some from their darkened state. "Perhaps it is time for 
  the lessons to take a new turn then. I have been focusing on the fighting 
  aspect so heavily, I have neglected other aspects. It is time to open them 
  now." This sounds much more like the old Jair that everyone knows and loves.

A readier nod and a small crooked smile of her own are Ariani's reply this 
  time. "Sounds like a plan -- you want her to think that fancy title you've 
  offered her means anything, might help if you actually taught her something 
  about the heart and soul of your people. But it also sounds like to me 
  there's some learning that can go on both ways, there. You might be bringing 
  your Jaer to her, but she's bringing humans to you."

"And so much to learn..." comes a mildly distant phrase from the swordsman, 
  now looking out past the 'tender. Ambigious and vague. Yep, that's Jair back 
  for you. How long it will last is a different matter all together.

[End log.]