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Thread: Food For Thought

  1. #21
    "I know quite a lot about you, Mr. Rabeak."

    The low voice was without tremor or tremble. It was as solid as a durasteel beam. And as his glass was meticulously returned to the table, Castus blinked as hisdark gaze locked with the Nehantite's own eyes.

    "But I am not here to cast judgement. You were a competent cadet, and that was why you were posted here. The powers that be would not place you in a situation if they knew you would fail... "

    His paw released the glass to once more lay flat against the wood tabletop.

    "... and I would be a poor officer if I did not make you aware of what I know.

    "I despise trickery."

  2. #22
    The words left Joey conflicted, unsure if Castus meant something other than simply delivering a blanket statement. Was he warning Joey not to beat around the bush with his intentions? Did he even know Joey's intentions? Or was it some other sort of warning? At the very least, if Castus knew who it was that Joey had been caught in that simulator with, he didn't seem to think it was a big deal - provided it didn't happen again when it mattered. Perhaps, the pilot thought to himself, there was a different tack he could take in order to better understand the Selonian.

    "Trickery does have its place," Joey countered. "In both everyday life, and on the battlefield. Sometimes you need to get someone to admit something they did not mean to tell, by steering them around the topic from another angle. And sometimes you can trick an opponent into letting their guard down, or presenting an opening. Trickery, as a fighter pilot, is one of our most prized skills, sir. So, I would disagree. With all due respect, of course."

    He took another drink, hoping he'd not gone too far, but then his cockiness forced out one last thing he was sure he would regret. "Besides, sometimes it's best to beat around the bush with someone, as it were, instead of coming right out and saying something to them which they might take offense to, if delivered bluntly, even if no offense were meant."

  3. #23
    "Mm."

    It was a slow sound as his inkwell eyes never strayed from Jofar.

    "We all have our own methods of operation as we pass through life."

    One paw splayed out on the surface of the table, wide digits curling into themselves out of instinct.

    "This station, it is like this restaurant here. It is a den of swirling ideologies and hope," a long inhaled breath as he took in the scents of the food around him. Everything smelled infinitely better than the mess hall aboard his own ship. "It... is a good place to be despite all of the unfortunate things that inevitably happen."

  4. #24
    "It's not where I expected to end up, to be honest," Joey admitted. "But I'm glad I did. I got to reconnect with my father, and my squadron have been better than I could have asked for. Still, comparing Jovan to just this restaurant within it, it... can be difficult to find what it is you have the appetite for, sometimes."

    He wanted to say more, but it wasn't exactly dinner conversation with so high-ranking an officer. "Still, as in all things in the Alliance, we must have hope, right?"

  5. #25
    "It is, I am told, what built this Alliance. So yes, hope is always a good thing."

    Anything further that he wished to say was held back as Raki returned, both hands full. With the grace of a being that had obviously done a certain task for a good amount of time, she slid each of the rosey pink salt slabs to the table before each diner. The torched cave eel was arranged neatly in thin slices along the length of the slab, a small metal sauce cup resting on one end. There were colorful sprinklings of some form of chopped green vegetable, what looked to be diced red and yellow peppers, and a smattering of tiny seeds - all of this had been put atop the eel that had been arranged in such a fashion as to make it appear still whole.

    The shaak fat cap had been spit-roasted to what had often been declared as perfection by many others who had dined here. It too had a small accompanying dipping sauce cup, and a few slices of crispy fried tuber.

    Raki half-stepped back, her smile going to each man.

    "I hope you both enjoy the food... " her eyes went to their drinks, "... do either of you need refills?"

    Castus offered a slow, genteel nod. "The water, yes."

  6. #26
    "I'll have another beer, thanks," Joey nodded with a smile. His first still had about a quarter of the glass remaining, but with the feast of tantalizing meat before him, he knew that more beer certainly wouldn't hurt.

    Pink eyes locked onto the fat cap, the young pilot could feel his salivary glands going into overdrive, and then the smells hit him. While his race did not possess the greatest eyesight - Joey had vainly opted for laser eye surgery rather than wearing glasses - they made up for it with an incredible sense of smell. Meaty, smoky, caramelized goodness wafted through his nose and sinuses, sending his appetite into overdrive. Yes, it was more food than he should be eating, but it was still mostly protein, so he could rationalize it. Well, as long as he got some kind of vigorous workout in, afterward.

    Still, there was one thing that was needed before he could dig in, and the Nehantite reached into his pocket for his personal comm, and raised it to point its camera at his chosen dish. "This is too good to not share," Joey chuckled, snapping a few pictures, then thumbed quickly through his comm's screen, ostensibly to double-check his images for quality, but he tapped the mute button on system sounds instead, then returned the comm to his lap. A covert shot from that level would be one to treasure, especially considering Admiral Annen wasn't wearing any pants.

    Comm pocketed, Joey took up his knife and fork, cutting away what was a bit too large of a bite, but he managed in his oversized jaws, anyway.

    Bliss. Nothing short of carnal delight melted across his tongue, and the noise he made was one more often suited for the bedroom as he succumbed to the overload of perfect, meaty flavors in his mouth. It took almost no chewing, the meat practically melting upon his tongue, and it seemed a shame to use beer to wash it down, yet he did so anyway.

    "Oh, damn, that's incredible," he managed. "That's some of the best meat I've had in my mouth in a while!"

  7. #27
    He watched Jofar with a curious look, but his attentions were soon enough upon his own meal. An extended claw speared the tail end of the eel, and her held it aloft for inspection. It was charred nicely along the outside, yet the inside was still perfectly puffy and white. It reminded him largely of the few meals he had eaten before being given to the Empire, and for a fraction of a moment he frowned at the memory.

    Life with his old family on Coruscant had been a terrible thing, but they had at least instilled in him a need for manners and decorum. Thos only seemed to deepen as time went on, and by the time he had made his way to the Alliance, Castus Annen was an abberation. He was too controlled, too in need of order. At least, to some who had met him. To others he had been a welcome body.

    Another few seconds of study, and the slice of eel was delicately placed in his mouth. He chewed, feeling the slight crunch of the skin and the much softer rending of the inner meat.

    It was perfect.

    Swallowing, the Selonian allowed himself to relax somewhat - an action that manifested itself in a bare shift in his seat, so that he was leaning back a small bit more.

    "It is comparable," he finally rumbled, letting his claw hover over the next slice. Perhaps he would try it with the sauce, this next time.

  8. #28
    As much attention as Joey had paid to his own dish, he paid to the Admiral across from him. A model of poise, precision, and exquisite manners, it reminded him of some of the formal parties he'd had to attend as a boy, and caused him to stiffen his own posture accordingly.

    At least until Castus relaxed, at which point a light of hope sparked within the Nehantite. Despite being an Admiral, and clearly quite posh - at least from his mannerisms - Castus was also a total DILF in Joey's book, and that book was always in need of more salacious stories. That same satisfied smile upon his face, Joey leaned back a bit, forcing his legs to spread beneath the table.

    "I'll let you try some of mine if I can try some of yours," he offered. Behind him, and just to the side, his tailtip flicked.

  9. #29
    It was an offer that Castus considered for a seemingly long moment. Eventually, he nodded.

    "That is acceptable."

    Another flick of a clawtip, and he speared a slice of the eel, deftly lifting it up. He examined it carefully, nodded to himself, then extended it to the Nehantite's plate. The meat slid off of his claw to land gently upon the soft white porcelain, and his offhand slid the sauce container closer to Jofar.

    "I think that you will like this. It is very close to a dish that I remember having, before being taken from my den. We did not have the sauce that is provided here, but it is your choice to partake or not."

  10. #30
    "If you're offering, I'll definitely partake." Joey's ability to hide his own sly smile at such a double entente was an abject failure, yet his paw was on point with his fork, spearing the delicate slice of eel, seeing the flesh glisten as he lifted it. A reach across the small table and he gently dipped the edge of the eel slice into the provided sauce, then returned it to his mouth.

    If his shaak fat cap had been fantastic, the eel was nothing short of sensational, forcing the pilot to close his eyes and focus on the intense dance of flavors upon his tongue as he slowly pulled the fork from his lips. Silence, followed by a deep, contented murr, and Joey's eyes opened slowly as he began to chew. It was phenomenal, and he didn't want it to end. Yet by its very nature - especially when combined with the natural design of his teeth - the eel was soon gone.

    Blinking, he nodded in approval. "Yours is amazing," he said. "I could eat yours all day with no complaint." Selecting a clean fork, he then took up his knife to carve away a thick, succulent cut of his own chosen dish, and extended it with great care, setting it upon the Admiral's plate. "You let me taste yours, it's only fair I offer up mine in return," he chuckled, clearly enjoying this dinner service.

  11. #31
    A thoughtful eye to the morsel that had been placed on his plate. It was perfectly rare, glistening with a sheen of lingering blood and glittering melted fat.

    Delicately, he speared the piece of meat with a fork. His clawtip held trace remnants of the eel, and he did not wish to sully a wholly separate food experience with crossing flavors. The fatcap was gently placed upon his tongue, the fork tines barely scraping along his teeth on the way out of his mouth.

    It was a wholesome, succulent taste that spread across his tastebuds in that same instant, and he leaned back in his seat for the barest of moments.

    He chewed, then swallowed.

    "It is unique," he said with silent conviction. And it truly was. For such a place that seemed so out-of-the-way, their cooking methods were true.

    "It reminds me of home."

    A slight gesture to each of their plates.

    "The portions, they are not large. This lets a being appreciate the flavors all the more," he mused.

    "The larger the dish, the less one loves it. It is as it was in the den; small portions with greater flavor. One grows to love the experience more than the simple act of shoveling food into the mouth."

  12. #32
    Joey's table manners were mostly satisfactory, recalling how his mother had chided him growing up, and he listened carefully as Castus spoke. Attention was given not only for his rank, but out of respect for the one he was sharing a meal with, though Joey's thoughts were not fully respectful inside his head, and unfortunately a few of those thoughts tended to escape from time to time.

    "True," the Nehantite pilot nodded. "But, I will admit that I do rather enjoy the feeling of a large piece of meat in my mouth, at times."

    It was just such a moment that his body acted before his brain could interfere, and he used his tongue to bulge one of his cheeks playfully, before he realized what he was doing. Immediately he ceased, though he couldn't stop the blush of embarrassment from pinking his inner ears.

  13. #33
    It was a strange display, and Castus only tilted his head in minor curiosity before returning to the meal before him. He stared at his own food, the corners of his lips pulling downward as his thoughts tried to understand the pilot across the table from him. There was an inkling of an understanding, but he dismissed it with a wave of a meaty paw.

    His other paw pulled forth a credit chit, and keying in the amount needed for both of their meals plus a generous tip for their server, he set it on the table.

    "As enjoyable as the meal was, I must be away. You may finish my food, if you wish."

    Rising from the table to stand, the Selonian looked down to Jofar.

    "I may call upon you at a later time, Mr. Rabeak."

    A slight dip of his head.

    "Until then."

  14. #34
    Too far. He'd gone way too far. With an Admiral, no less! Joey kicked himself inside the moment he saw Castus's reaction. All manner of self-directed expletives fired off in his head as he could do nothing but watch as the dreamboat Selonian DILF fished out a credit chit, signalling that the meal was over.

    Joey's ears hung in defeat, and all he could do was nod in silence as Castus stood, expecting to receive a reprimand for his actions. After all, if Castus knew about him being caught in the simulator, surely his latest gesture couldn't have been misconstrued.

    But then came those words. "I may call upon you at a later time, Mr. Rabeak." And Joey looked back up, surprise, and a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Stupidly, he found a smile, and nodded. "I look forward to that, Sir," he replied, then stood. A departing senior officer required a standing salute, which is what Joey gave, to only then realize he was already mostly saluting downstairs, but didn't have time to adjust.

    Another deep blush, and all he could do was sheepishly smile. Perhaps rampant embarrassment would be enough of a reprimand, he hoped, as he certainly felt it.

  15. #35
    * * *


    Comfortably ensconced in his office aboard the Bastak, Rear Admiral Annen stared at the stack of flimsi files atop his desk. One in particular had been opened, and each page spread out before him.

    His meal shared with Jofar Rabeak had been... enlightening, to say the least, and Castus had come away from their brief meal with a fair bit of curiosity.

    The boy was a savant in the cockpit, and his Academy scores were exemplary.

    At the sound of the door chime, the Selonian looked up. Slowly, he rose to stand, one hand going to tug down the bottom hem of his uniform tunic.

    "Enter."

  16. #36
    The remainder of dinner had gone about as well as Joey could have imagined after making a fool of himself. The food was good, yes, but eating it alone denied him of half the pleasure. Over and over, the conversation played out, and at each step he realized what a fool he'd been, and how crass he'd come off. And, to top it off, he couldn't even be the one to leave a big tip, to make himself feel better.

    So it was off to a club for a drink or two, and some dancing. Bass beat into his skull as the rhythm pounded and colorful lights flashed, and his body moved, gyrated, and ground against the bodies of others. A third drink, and he was starting to feel like himself again. Paws on another man's body on the dance floor, that man's hands on his own, Joey knew the night could be salvaged, and after a fierce grind he growled deeply, licking his hopefully-soon-to-be lover's jawline to taste his sweat, and signal his intentions - intentions which had been more than made obviously clear. That was it. The invitation back to his place was about to happen, when he felt something near his loin. Something other than what typically surged through his system on such nights. It was his comm, and it was vibrating.

    No, he'd let it go to voicemail, or text. Whatever it was. But it didn't stop. Only Alliance calls would continue without going to voicemail, and the pilot sighed before kissing his dance partner's lips, then fished his comm out of his tight pants. Alliance comm line. With a disheartened, sheepish smile, he held his comm up for his dance partner to see, then excused himself out of the club, away from its deafening music and pulsating beats, and into the promenade where he could finally answer.

    A message from the Rear Admiral. He wanted to see him in his office. Immediately.

    "Fuck," Joey hissed through his teeth, his head falling, muscular shoulders slumping as his whole body demonstrated the defeat he felt. A reprimand. He was going to get reprimanded for hitting on a Rear Admiral.

    The urge to go back for a fourth drink was strong, a shot of liquid courage. But after three drinks, a fourth would likely allow his mouth to say things that only three would at least hold back, so he straightened his jacked, smoothed his snug tee shirt, and pulled up the location of the Bastak. Engineering access codes to allow him to slip through service corridors helped speed the journey, and soon he found himself escorted onto the Rear Admiral's ship, and shown to his office door. Swallowing, only then did Joey realize his breath still smelled of gin, and he wished he had a mint or a piece of gum, or... anything to help disguise it. There was no time, however, as the door slid open, and he stepped inside.

    A crisp salute, and the pilot remained at attention, his heart racing for fear of what might become of him. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Jofar Rabeak, reporting, sir!" he stated. It wasn't much but at least a proper show of decorum might help change Castus's mind about drumming him out of the Alliance Navy for hitting on him. Only then did he recall that he'd snapped a shot of the Rear Admiral's crotch, at dinner, and it was still on his comm. Surely it would be a court martial, if that was found!

  17. #37
    He watched the boy enter, watched the parade of expressions so carefully his flit just beneath the surface of his features. It gave him pause, and Castus allowed Jofar the dignity of at least introducing himself. It was the least he could do, after all.

    "Jofar," he finally rumbled in a low voice, letting inky-black, ermine eyes take in the pilot, "It pleases me that you have made time out of your busy schedule to answer my call."

    Wherever the young Nehantite had been when he'd been summoned was not exactly his concern, nor was it something that concerned him.

    His lips pilled back then, in a strange sort of smile-yet-grimace that appeared strange on his own face. Which, he supposed was appropriate, since it felt strange to make such an expression. It was his attempt to smile, but he knew that it was a poor one. Instead, he quickly recovered, allowing his features to return to their normal steady look before lowering himself to sit. He gestured for Jofar to do the same.

    "Tell me, in the short time that you've been stationed on Jovan, are you happy?"

  18. #38
    Joey's brow crimped lightly, nonplussed by the question, as his face attempted to hold back the expression of consternation he so commonly associated with his father. "Happy, sir?" he asked, attempting to better understand the question.

    Of course, it didn't help. Re-stating the very question you had been asked never helped, as it brought no further light, no insight into the query, leaving one just as stuck as they were before. Joey's tailtip ticked idly as he sussed out what he hoped would be an acceptable answer.

    "I, well, I suppose so," he started. "It's a big change from life at the Academy, and my wingmates are a tight bunch; it's been a little difficult to truly break through with them, but I feel I'm getting there. My father being here was an unexpected, yet very welcome surprise, so I'd say that's been a big plus. And there hasn't been much real action for the squadron to handle, so I've had more down time than expected. I'd say I'm, um, as happy as I could expect to be, given the circumstances?"

    His face could not escape a hint of confusion at the end, his tailtip flicking again, this time the other way, and starting to sway back and forth with nervous energy.

  19. #39
    The boy was taken off-guard, which was not exactly what he'd wanted. It made a grimace turn down the corners of his mouth. He was not disappointed with the answer, but rather the method with which he'd asked the question.

    Still though, Castus continued on. he leaned back in his seat, lifting a paw to gesture at the open file before him.

    "I've been reading up on your admittedly short career thus far, as well as your... time... in the academy."

    There was a strange look that met those words, and Castus let his gaze level with Jofar's.

    "Are you ashamed of your... extra activities?"

  20. #40
    From his moment of entry, Joey's whole focus had been on Castus himself - as well as trying to act entirely sober, which three drinks in the last hour was not helping with at all. As his gaze fell upon the file, his file, Joey's pink eyes went wide, and his heart began to pound. Rear Admiral Annen had pulled up his file, and reviewed it, after Joey had failed so miserably at hitting on him at dinner. If this didn't precede a discharge, he didn't know what would.

    Swallowing hard, the Nehantite felt his throat go dry again immediately afterward. "E-extra activities, sir?" he asked, his voice faltering at first.

    This time he needed no further explanation of the question; he knew precisely what was in that file: his love life, and how it had interfered with his training. His tail stopped, hanging still, as his head began to droop as well. "Sir, any shame from those... activities.. stems only from errors in judgement in how, or where, I went about them. Not the acts of what I did, nor who I chose to do them with."

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