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Cody held his favourite carving knife in front of him like it would make any difference if the creature decided to come at him.
'Please,' he begged, putting his best customer service charm into his voice, 'there has to be something I can do for you. We can—we should talk about this. I—I can come up with the perfect dish for you!'
The white and blue lekku twitched and the golden eyes blinked, alien, even by this wild galaxy's standards. Sweat trickled down Cody's back. She moved, and he shifted along with her, keeping the knife and the sauce station between them. She wasn't interested in his offer, if her flipping the pans as she went was any indication. Cody let out a shaky breath, taking a step back, and another. The deep fryer slammed into his hips, bringing him short and ending all hopes of escaping that way.
So, this was how he died.
'Ma'am...' he tried again. He thought it was a ma'am, at least. He wasn't entirely sure. 'Please, you need to leave the kitchen. We can discuss this outside.'
A loud crash, and there went today's soup.
'Discuss?' the Togruta-shaped monster—woman—thing, purred. 'Do I look like I want to discuss things with you, little white man?'
What a weird thing to call him. First of all his uniform was white and gold, and second, well, there was a very large stain on it, from the chest down to his knees. It had been a whole main dish for the long table, twelve people's worth of quality ragout with prime Alderaanian nerf and red sabrimosa wine, six hours in the stewing... There was precious little of him that was white any more. Perhaps she meant his face, which he had no doubt was completely bloodless, his natural golden tan turned to chalk.
Cody opened his mouth to ask what it was that she wanted, and snapped it shut as soon as he realised he might not like the answer at all.
Fins was peering at him from around an oven and looking downright terrified. The rest of the lads were clumped together behind him, waiting for Cody's orders, clutching whatever utensil they'd been using when all hells had broken loose. They were a poor army to fight back this particular enemy. Clones were supposed to be brave and all that lo-jazz, but the chef's division was trained to perform under a certain type of pressure. The sort that yelled and demanded the impossible, held you responsible for wild stuff that could never ever have been your fault. They fought the war through the diplomatic branch, with knife and whisk, mortar and pestle, pot and pan. And a bantha-shit-ton of patience.
But this was the stuff of blasters and—Oh Stars, was that a lightsaber?
The blade shone in a red as corrupted as her yellow eyes, a low, crackling hum coming out of it and turning to a whine as she began to slash around the kitchen. She herself was yowling like a wounded Tooka. Sparks and droplets of molten metal flew about, and Cody dove out of the way.
'Stop!' he yelled, abandoning all pretence of politeness but not quite managing to summon his command voice. 'Lady, please stop, we can—'
But the Sith—for she had to be a Sith, with a red blade and such an evil look, like the Ventress killer of his vode's stories—flew through over the stations in an impossible spin and landed over him, bringing her lightsaber down above his shoulder, preventing him for scrambling away. She crouched low, close enough for her veiny lekku to graze his hyperventilating chest. Cody was as good as pinned, his life flashing in front of his eyes—from his first memory, of Fox slamming him into a training mat with a shit-eating grin, to the moment the doors of the kitchen had flung open and the monster appeared—when the doors slammed open once more, this time for a human man.
'Ahsoka?' the new-commer called out. 'What's taking you so—oh.'
The man stopped to take in the carnage. Ahsoka, if that was the monster's name, froze on top of Cody, her sick amber eyes staring through and past him, to some unknown inner vistas. She was completely out of it, Cody thought, raving mad even, but there was a glimmer... Something slowly resurfacing.
The man was making his way to them, muttering a low chant of "'Soka, 'Soka, 'Soka..." as he went, and for a wild second, Cody thought he was saved. He would have wept for joy, if he had dared shift a single atom of his being. The man was there to retrieve his feral nexu of a 'Soka, wasn't he? He'd take her away and apologise and Cody would bow and say no harm done, and then call in every last vod he knew for the craziest bender of his life (on him too) just so he could recount this evening to them and then drink it out of his memory, on a cellular level.
But then the man was close enough for Cody to see properly, and hope vanished as suddenly as it had come.
He was handsome enough, with fine features and a well trimmed beard kissed with copper undertones. His smile was kind, the sort with hidden dimples. But under the tumble of his auburn hair were two equally bloodshot and golden eyes, haunting and even more out of place on a human's face, staring down at Cody with none of the warmth the smile promised.
'Hello there,' he said. 'Are we having some problems?'
Cody said nothing. He assumed the question was either rhetorical or not intended for him.
'Ahsoka?'
The Togruta monster grimaced, her hazy gaze regaining more clarity. She got up, but the lightsaber stayed where it was, melting an ever widening hole in the kitchen floor tiles.
'Vegetables,' she muttered.
The man cocked his head, curious. 'Yes, 'Soka dear? What about vegetables?'
'The meat...' She frowned, as if trying hard to recall why she was angry at all, and then her eyes locked on Cody and she snarled. 'There were vegetables in my meat!'
'Ooh, I see now,' the man exclaimed, like this bantha shit made any sense. He looked down at Cody and asked, 'Did you know Togrutas are carnivorous?'
'Did I—? Sir I— of course I know that!' he sputtered, downright offended, even in the depth of this insane situation.
What did they think he was running, some Pantoran BBQ street corner joint? Fierfek! He was one of the best trained chefs in the known regions, raised for this damn job. He knew what to cook for every single species with a senate seat and more besides. He probably knew more about Tog diets than 'Soka the kriffing Tog demon herself. She had no business bitching about vegetables. Togrutas were mesocarnivores, their diet only 50% to 70% meat, and they complemented it with some leafy greens, roots, especially pickled, and berries. You couldn't throw a stone in Shili in the summer without hitting a Tog sipping on a smoothie.
Cody decided such knowledge was best kept to himself, considering present company.
'I was not aware we had a Togruta guest tonight,' he said, as apologetically as if his life depended on it. 'The host told us it'd be Durese and Changrilan delegations meeting Neimoidians and—'
'Oh no, we were not on the guest list,' the man laughed, waving the idea away. 'We invited ourselves, you see?'
'Ah, right... Of course...'
Of course indeed! Come uninvited to a diner, fly into a rage when the dishes don't suit your taste, decide to take it to the chef with your lightsaber... Made perfect sense!
Another chill ran up Cody's spine. What had happened, out there? They hadn't heard anything, but then the kitchen had been loud. They'd had several large woks on the go, lots of frying, and Port was a shiny. Senik had been doing a whole lot of yelling keeping him and the new KP in line. Cody thought of the corrie guys taking care of security and probably dead by now, and not for the first time, wished he and his lads would be given comms with corrie frequencies. Even just him.
In the unlikely event that Sith came in and razed the dining room before making their way to the kitchen... But it was too late, and no matter what had happened in the lounges, in the kitchen they were still alive. He caught movement, from the corner of his eyes, and discreetly signed for his men to stand down.
'Can we maybe offer you some of our meat?' he asked. 'Actually, all of it. I suspect I won't be preparing any more dishes with it tonight...'
'Isn't that kind!' the man exclaimed. He nudged the Togruta. 'What do you say Soka? Will it help calm you back down a little?'
'I...' The red lightsaber collapsed on itself and she brought her hands to her temples, like she was in pain. 'Obi-Wan, I don't know—it's so much... I—'
Cody's blood froze in his veins. Obi-Wan... Like Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi? The master who had disappeared in the Chrelythiumn system half a year ago, with his former padawan?
'It's alright Ahsoka, it's been a lot of excitement, hasn't it?' Obi-Wan said, rubbing a hand between the younger Sith's montrals. 'You'll get a hang of yourself soon enough. And look, you didn't even kill anybody.'
A weak 'Yaay...' came from the group of huddled cooks. To Cody's continued amazement and horror, this brought a small smile to Ahsoka's face.
'I think you should accept the cook's offer. Let him make you something.' Obi-Wan put his arms akimbo and beamed. 'I wouldn't mind a drink myself!' he declared. 'Slaughter is thirsty work.'
Everyone recoiled at that, but Cody was quite clear in his hand sign. Get started. The kitchen erupted in feverish activity. Saltan and Fins went to fetch bottles from behind the bar in the main lounge and returned with grey faces and bloodless lips, proof enough that the Sith must be very thirsty. The others went about cleaning and fixing things, taking burning food off the fires and shutting down the ovens.
After all, Obi-Wan only wanted a Serrenoan Sling, no ice, and yes, fyr bourbon is fine, and Cody was making demon 'Soka a nerf steak tartare. He asked, very politely and meekly, if she wanted any herbs in it, salt or pepper... But no, apparently she wasn't interested in her food being flavourful. Still, she didn't protest when he dropped a porg's egg yolk over it.
That's how Cody's shift ended. With his lads cleaning up a kitchen destroyed beyond repair while a Togruta Sith scarfed the worst dish he'd ever put to plate, and a lost Jedi with yellow eyes told him all about his day, going on and on about how truly uncivilised Neimoidians were, in the face of death. How little joy there was in chasing them about the room and cutting them down.
Cody nodded along, polite as you please, till the man finally took his last sip and left with a nod and a smirk, pushing 'Soka in front of him with a firm hand.
They all breathed a deep albeit shaky sigh of relief. Fins let out a sob, Port's legs gave out and Senik shook with hysterical laughter.
'What the kriff kriffing happened?' Saltan asked.
Cody wasn't sure. The only thing he knew for certain was that there wasn't enough alcohol for sale on Coruscant to scrub the memory of this evening from his brains.