Food For Thought

[Castus Annen]

The Alliance cruiser Bastak hung in space before Jovan Station like some stalwart sentinel. As if there was some sort of danger to be pushed away that had yet to be seen or detected in any way. Her form remained still, unmoving from where she sat peacefully. But far from waiting on the appearance of some unknown threat, her large hulk sat in repose, almost. She was simply waiting, and the crew members aboard went about their normal duties; as if they cared little for the massive station outside their viewports.

Rear Admiral Castus Annen had been on the station for five hours, his time mostly spent in meetings. He had come for the express purpose of evaluating the command and tertiary staff aboard the station, and for this first round of interviews he was mostly satisfied. Of course, he had only met with three so far, which was why his allotted stay was set to seven days. Nothing out of the ordinary to be honest, and he certainly held no real illusions as to any sort of imagined expediency to this endeavor. It would be completed when it was completed, and not a minute before.

Why he'd been chosen for this task remained beyond his realm of understanding, but he was never one to question the edicts of those who sat in seats higher than he. If it was wished that he carry out these interviews, then that was what he would do. Perhaps it was because he was a Selonian? That he would be brutally truthful and honest in both his questioning and evaluating? It was possible. His record spoke for itself, and he held a secret pride at that.

But now, with the conclusion of his first day, Castus found himself standing at the entrance to a small, tucked-away restaurant. It was a Selonian establishment, of course. His surprise at seeing such a place listed on the available food vendor catalog was muted, yet present all the same. His curiosity and desire for proper food - from home - was what kept him from returning to the Bastak immediately following the conclusion of his first day. The distaste for the food on his own ship, or any Alliance ship really, was well known. And why suffer through an overcooked dinner when there was the chance that he could partake in his own people's cuisine?

Aca Sanno.

A lovely name, he had to admit.

'Divine Food', if one were to translate literally. And for him, after weathering the normal fare he was used to having, he truly hoped that it would be just that; divine.

Another few moments of lingering, as his wide paws came up to tug at the bottom hem of his duty jacket, and rolling fluid shoulders, Castus stepped past the threshold and into Aca Sanno.

[Joey Rabeak]

Joey stood in the doorway of the officers mess, his tail flicking idly behind himself. At various tables he could see wingmates, most all of them already tucked in to their own dinner, conversing with each other, while he'd arrived late. It wasn't his fault, he thought. They could get through the showers quickly and easily. Things were different for a furred race, even with the advantage of sonic showers being dry. Well, that and his grooming routine wasn't exactly short, either - it took a lot of work and fur-care products to look this good, he thought to himself.

But all that work meant he was a good ten minutes later to the mess hall than everyone else, and all the really good food choices were gone. Another night of nerf lasagna, the fighter pilot thought to himself with a sigh. His heel lifting from the ground, Joey then stopped, and his boot descended once more. No, no last-choice option tonight. He had money, he wanted good food, real food, and there were plenty of options on Jovan Station. Turning on his heel, Joey smoothed his designer civilian shirt under his flight jacket, and headed back toward the promenade.

Cizerack food? Nah, had that last week. Trandoshan? Ugh, no, heartburn. There were plenty of human restaurants and pubs, as well as countless other races, but most of it didn't sound all that good. For the first time in his month at the sation, Joey resorted to consulting the station's location guide, only to look over and see someone else doing the same thing down the way. Someone with a tail. And fur. And... no pants? Immediately food was forgotten as he attempted to circle in for a closer look, careful to remain in the stranger's blind spot on his approach vector.

Weaving through the crowd, Joey drew closer still, smiling to himself when he could tell that this fellow was, in fact, a fellow. It was only by chance that he followed him to a small restaurant, and one which Joey had never been to, though it smelled... meaty? Shrugging, the Nehantite presumed that even if one was good between food or pantsless company, it would be an evening well spent, and he waited a moment before following the Selonian inside.

[Castus Annen]

A wispy Sullustan had guided him to a table, her over-sized server's apron constantly hitched up over bony hips that had not seemed to fill out. Of course, it was entirely possible that the woman was suffering from an over-active metabolism, and the Selonian chose to settle on that explanation rather than the other, more sobering one. She didn't look particularly unwell or upset, which gave credence to a body that burned through whatever fuel consumed faster than the mouth could ingest. Her smile was genuine, and her words airy as she gestured for him to sit kind words and a lilting laugh accompanying the menu that she slid to the table in front of him.

Which, even the table was wonderfully tactile as he set a paw upon its' surface; knurled wood, sanded and polished to perfection. The entire decor was comforting, reminding of those old memories of the den; ensconced in earth and solid foundations. Oh, he was safe enough here on Jovan, but there was something that was unspoken, something that spoke to the soul when you were on terra firma and tucked safely within the walls of the ground.

"I'm Raki, I'll be taking care you you today," a knife wrapped in a cloth napkin was pulled from her apron and set beside his menu, "... anything to drink that I can start you with?"

The Rear Admiral let out a long breath, letting his claws come out just enough to test the table's surface.

"A water, thank you."

[Joey Rabeak]

There was an unspoken rule about how quickly one could enter a restaurant after another person. Well, several unspoken rules. If you simply arrived at the same time, you were free to go in. But if you saw someone arrive just before you, it was on you to hesitate a few seconds, letting them select their table before you enter to pick your own. So, it was as Castus was placing his drink order that Joey took his own seat at a small, two-person table just far enough away from Castus, but close enough for a good look and personal acknowledgement.

"Beer, please. Sunshine's Pride, if you have it," He nodded to the waitress with a smile as she looked to him, and he accepted his menu graciously. It was that moment, just before looking to his menu, that he took a proper introductory look at the Selonian semi-opposite him, and gave a polite smile and nod of hello before glancing down his menu as realization struck him.

Holy crap, that's a rear admiral! He thought to himself, trying not to make his sudden worry visible. I mean, yeah, he's still a total DILF, and has fur, and no pants, and... No, Joey, he's a rear admiral! You know better than this! Besides, you don't even know if he's... into guys.

The trainwreck of conflicted impulses continued to derail itself inside the pilot's head as he studied the menu blankly in an attempt to not keep stealing glances at Castus, though he couldn't control the telltale flick of his tail behind himself. When at last his brain focused on the printed words and images, Joey realized he had no idea what half the dishes were, and just how deep he was in over his head. He could see the waitress about to emerge from the kitchen area, and knew this was his only chance, so he looked up to Castus with a bit friendlier smile and asked, "Anything you'd recommend for a first-timer, sir?"

Too late did it dawn on him that could be construed in too many different ways, especially with the insignia on his own lapels being that of a Lieutenant Junior Grade. And there went his tail again.

[Castus Annen]

He had nodded in polite acknowledgement, soon returning to his menu to peruse the offerings. It was all very rustic, with most dishes being some form of meat. There were some that had tuber sides, but the majority seemed to cater to a carnivorous diet. It was that culinary leaning that he was glad they maintained. From shaak fatcap to nerf flank cuts to seafood; it was all very delightful and seemed authentic enough. Certainly, it was better than much of what he received from the mess hall aboard his cruiser.

Idly he surmised that Stali would thoroughly enjoy this establishment.

When the Nehantite's voice reached his ears, Castus blinked slowly as his whiskers almost deliberately smoothed themselves back in an unconscious motion. Inkwell eyes lifted from the menu to track sideways, settling on the Nehantite with a level gaze.

A bare moment of silence, broken only by the waitress whisking through the rough spun curtain that divided the kitchen from the dining area. One hand held a bottle of Sunshine's Pride, the other a glass of water.

"It depends, Lieutenant," his voice cut through the momentary bit of awkward silence, a low rumble that seemed coated in silk, "... on your tastes."

[Joey Rabeak]

A chill, like intentionally cooled, blunt claws ran up Joey's spine at the sound of Castus's voice, and he fought to keep the shiver of delight he felt from becoming visible. What he could not hide, however, was the coy tug of his smile at the Selonian's choice of words. Was he reading Joey's tailflicks? Did Selonians use similar body language? In that moment, Joey realized he didn't know, and that he might be sending the entirely wrong messages. Warning bells fired inside his brain, only to be silenced as he accepted his beer with a smile and nod to their waitress.

"Thank you," he said as he nodded to the waitress again, "I think I may need a few more minutes on the menu, here, though." There, that bought him some time to think - not only his meal choice, but about his course of action.

The restaurant was just that, a restaurant. It wasn't a club, or a hook-up hangout, and the Nehantite continued to remind himself of that. Even more, this was a Selonian restaurant, and the Rear Admiral was a Selonian, so who was Joey to try and horn in on him as he simply enjoyed a taste of home? Not to mention it could be disastrous for his career in the Alliance Navy if he totally bungled interaction with a Rear Admiral. No, the negatives certainly outweighed the handsome, regal, pantsless positive, he told himself, and he resigned himself to simply having a good meal.

His mouth, unfortunately, did not seem to receive that message in time. Looking back to Castus, Joey's smile still held that coy little twist as he replied, "Well... my tastes can vary. But I think I might be leaning away from fish, and toward some proper red meat. Preferably something without much on it."

It was everything he could do to keep his eyes from darting down to Castus's exposed lower half, but that telltale, "How you doin'?" flick of his tailtip couldn't be stopped. In an attempt to save himself, he returned to studying his menu and reminding himself of just how bad of an idea it was to hit on a Rear Admiral.

His tailtip flicked again on its own before Joey pulled it back in to his other side, hooking it around his ankle to make sure it didn't continue to put him in jeopardy of offending a superior officer. A very superior officer.

[Castus Annen]

Another slow blink, and the Selonian disengaged himself momentarily to send his eyes up to the waitress. She reached out to give his shoulder a gentle pat, accompanied by a reassuring few words before once more disappearing.

Left alone more or less, Castus Annen passed a fleeting glance once more down the length of his menu before turning to look at the Lieutenant.

The restaurant's lighting was a strange affair, casting a warm glow throughout the small interior to create a cozy, lived-in environment. Coupled with the rustic and rough-hewn decor, for the Selonian it was a place to feel comfortable - or at least, as comfortable as he chose to allow himself to feel. Fluid shoulders remained set back, his spine rigid as he sat. Even his tail remained still and unmoving; rather, it held fast to one side of his leg.

"I would say then, that you would be well served in ordering the spit-fired shaak fat cap."

[Joey Rabeak]

"Mmm, I do enjoy a good spit-roast," Joey nodded appreciatively as he attempted to spot that item on his menu. The cringe which followed as his mind caught up to his words, especially when the term "fat cap" was involved with the item in question, was impossible not to notice, and he hurriedly stumbled his own better judgment in an attempt to explain his way out of it.

"Well, not like that! I meant the food. I mean, I do like..."

Danger, Will Rabeak! Danger! The voice of an old holovision series droid rang in his head as every alarm bell he possessed forced him to cease that line of speech entirely.

Taking a breath, then a sigh which sent his shoulders down with it, he continued looking at the menu, and the menu alone. "I'm just gonna shut up, now, sir," he said, reaching for his beer to take a swig directly from the bottle. Not quite cold enough, but in that moment he just didn't care. Crash, and burn. He could practically hear the emergency speeders arriving to see if he had arrived that social transportwreck. Simply looking at Castus should have told him it was a bad idea to try anything like that; the Selonian clearly wasn't interested.

At least the food should be good, Joey told himself. Just focus on the food and maybe, just maybe the Rear Admiral will forget any of this ever happened.

[Castus Annen]

What a strange reaction. Watching with a level gaze that betrayed nothing, Castus finally only allowed a last, slow blink before returning to his menu.

"Do as you will."

Pilots and their games, was his final summation. Was this something that the younger man had been put up to by his wingmates? Some sort of intelligence gathering mission? It seemed about the right modus operandi for many squadrons - choose the freshest face - the greenest pilot - and make them attempt to dig for the desired information.

Chest swelling with a long inhale, Castus let it out slowly as the waitress returned.

"Ah, yes. I will have the torched cave eel."

"Alright then, and you want that on a plate? or a salt slab?"

"Salt slab, please."

"I'll get that right in... " she turned to the Nehantite then, noticing that he looked a bit uncomfortable in his seat.

"You ready? Or should I give you some more time?"

[Joey Rabeak]

More time? What Joey wanted at the moment was to reverse time, grab himself away from the restaurant, and keep him from opening his big mouth in the first place. But seeing as time travel was still something out of a holofilm, he settled on just enjoying dinner.

"Um, yeah, I'll do the spit-fired shaak fat cap, please," he said, reading it directly off the menu as his blunt clawtip traced along the title. Had he given it more thought, he might have selected something else, but it would be rude not to accept the Rear Admiral's selection, now, and the last thing he wanted was to make an even worse impression than he had thus far. "Salt slab is good by me," he added with a nod. If nothing else, it would make a good picture for his Instaholo account.

Order placed, it was back to his beer, and for the first time in his life Joey considered that it might be a good idea to wear a pride pin. Jovan wasn't big enough to have its own gay community - at least that he'd found so far - and simply that little bit of advertising might be enough to spare him awkward guessing games and double ententes like those which had just landed him in his current situation.

As the Sullustan returned to the kitchen, Joey took in his surroundings in silence, appreciating the authenticity - he supposed - of the decor, and how it honestly felt like he wasn't on Jovan. As his eyes wandered, they fell on Castus again in passing, accompanied with a simple nod of acknowledgement, though he said nothing. Garfife, waiting in silence after that gaffe was going to be torture.

[Castus Annen]

His food ordered, Castus allowed his paws to curl against the wood surface of the table, enjoying the tactile sensation of something other than hard metal or smoothed plastic. There was something comforting in the natural grains of wood and earth.

He stared ahead, chest rising and falling with each long, slow breath. As if he was meditating, the Selonian's eyes closed by half as his mind settled itself into the rhythm of calm thought.

Inner musings returned to his reasons for being at the station, and it wasn't long before he let his gaze shift, sweeping once more to the Nehantite in easy recognition. He had seen the younger man in the personnel files for Titan Squadron - one Jofar Rabeak. He stared in silence at Rabeak for what one might consider a rude amount of time before finally speaking.

"You are Jofar Rabeak, yes?"

[Joey Rabeak]

It took less than a minute for Joey to realize that, unlike most every other restaurant he'd ever been to, Aca Sanno had no music playing. No audio atmospherics of any kind, not even a white noise generator. His own claw-tapping upon the wooden tabletop was brief, halted after the third tap as the sound seemed jarring and out of place. Sure, there were sounds coming from the kitchen, as one would expect, but otherwise Aca Sanno was silent, likely resembling the quiet, dim, homey feeling of a Selonian den, if he had to wager a guess. A far cry from the loud, brash and energetic feeling of a Nehantite dining establishment.

Aca Sanno also smelled much different than a Nehantite restaurant, as he could actually smell the wood, the cooking food, and even Castus, with his sensitive nose. It was honestly a relief from the olfactory sensory overload of the officers' mess, and Joey decided he could handle a having made a brief fool of himself in trade for this unusual, relaxing setting.

And then he noticed Castus looking at him. Intently. For a very, very long time. Joey tried not to let on that he saw it, instead admiring the decor, or following a line in the woodgrain on his tabletop with a finger. But the Selonian continued to stare with that expressionless face, judging him in silence, Joey presumed.

Alarm bells rang in his head as his name was said aloud, his proper name, not the nickname he preferred, and immediately Joey snapped to attention, his pink eyes staring back into Castus's black ones as his posture found the nearest level of attention it could muster wile seated. "Yes, sir," he replied. "Lieutenant, Junior Grade. Most everyone calls me Joey. I fly with Titan Squadron."

In the back of his mind, the question raged: How did this Rear Admiral know him? Was Joey famous? Infamous? Which of those two options was worse? Then came the overwhelming dread. The Rear Admiral he'd failed so badly at making a pass at knew who he was.

[Castus Annen]

"I will call you Jofar."

'Most everyone' was... most everyone. They were not he, Castus Annen. It was nothing imperious, but it was the simple fact. It was his job to know the Alliance personnel aboard Jovan. From the command staff to the squadron pilots to the maintenance crew. It was his job. Inglorious, yet impressive all the same. There was a certain amount of satisfaction that one took in knowing at least the words of those that served. He had read files, yes, but nothing beyond. That satisfaction took an upwards turn when a being could put a face to the words and picture; to hear the voice and inflection. It spoke to the truth of a being's desires; of what they hoped to gain from service and what they hoped to achieve.

"The Titans were transferred after Ossus. You were chosen to replace the deceased Lieutenant Hannik. I trust you are finding your assignment engaging?"

[Joey Rabeak]

Oh snap, not only did this Rear Admiral know who he was, he knew actual things about him! And was calling him Jofar, a name he was only used to hearing when he was in trouble. Remaining sitting at attention, Joey cleared his suddenly dry throat lightly before he could reply.

"I haven't been here long, sir. And the Titans are a good bunch. Mostly it's been show-of-force runs, scaring off pirates, warning Imperial patrols that venture too close to the border, that kind of thing. No real action yet, but that's okay. I think I'm settling into my role well, and it's been good getting to know my wingmates."

Especially Zane, he thought to himself.

Daring a sip from his beer, he could see Castus's interest in him was not waning, yet the conversation - if it could be called that - was clearly in a lull. Daring to go on the offensive, Joey sought a bit of information of his own. "If I may be permitted, sir, I believe you have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but I'm afraid I don't know you, and I'm pretty sure I'd remember another furred officer around here." Especially one without pants. "Might I ask what brings a Rear Admiral to Jovan, sir?"

[Castus Annen]

"I am here to evaluate the Command Staff, and some of those on the fringe, as it were."

A succinct answer for a simple question, Castus never let his black eyes stray from the pilot.

But, he was ever mindful of his manners, and gave a slow, deliberate nod followed by his own introduction.

"I am Castus Annen, Lieutenant," and as if it was an afterthought, he continued, "... a pleasure to meet you."

That he would come across a pilot was not surprising, and in fact he would have been disappointed if he had not. Jovan had a diverse set of individuals who provided the necessary support which ensured the continued safety of those aboard, and it only stood to reason that those beings enjoyed a diverse set of tastes. It was an opportunity that he was loathe to waste.

On paw lifted then, to gesture to the seat opposite. An invitation.

"You are welcome to join me, if you wish."

[Joey Rabeak]

A quick glance was spared back to the curtain which hid the kitchen, and Joey hesitated slightly, not wishing to upset the waitress if he were to change tables without her permission. However upsetting a waitress paled in comparison to possibly offending a Rear Admiral, and so the pilot nodded, and brought his beer with him. A closer look at Castus was simply an unexpected bonus, he told himself. Taking the seat opposite, Joey suddenly felt small compared to the size of the Selonian before him, but he tried not to let it show, and the swipe of his bare toes against Castus's was purely accidental, he told himself.

"Thank you, Rear Admiral Annen," he replied. His smile as natural and easy, hiding the thousands of things which ran through his mind, both good and bad. If Castus was there to evaluate the Command Staff, that meant he'd be reviewing Anauri as well, which meant all the more reason to remain on good behavior.

"Command Staff, huh?" Joey then asked as he transferred his beer from his bottle to a spare glass. Drinking directly from the bottle was fine around other pilots, but hardly okay with a superior officer. "Guess that means you'll be reviewing my dad's performance. Anauri Rabeak, Chief Engineer. I didn't know he was here when I got assigned to Jovan. And he didn't know I was coming, so that was kind of a surprise to both of us. It's been good, though. Never thought I'd actually get to see him again. From what I hear he's had his paws full getting this station back up to snuff, and keeping it running, though."

Small talk, bit of personal information, but leading back to work. It was something Joey had learned how to break the ice with, when starting a conversation; give them something to ask about if they want, but don't fully deviate from the main topic in case they aren't interested. Those old etiquette lessons, combined with now only seeing Castus's dressed upper half, helped Joey remain on track for a proper dinner conversation.

[Castus Annen]

The moment of personal contact only resulted in Castus drawing his footpaws back a slight bit; obviously the footspace beneath the table wasn't entirely sufficient. No matter what, the withdrawal was both calculated and instinctual. His small ears remain perked however, taking in the words that Jofar Rabeak spoke. The admission of kinship to one Anauri Rabeak, and the further professions of having no knowledge that the elder was already stationed to Jovan. It was all very innocent. It was all very long-winded as well.

For a being so used to minimal verbal interactions, Jofar's speech seemed breathless and verbose.

"I am aware of the Chief Engineer, and now you."

Oh, he'd certainly read the crew reports and files, knowing that Anauri Rabeak had a son who was as well stationed aboard, but to hear it from the younger's muzzle helped to stay any concerns over the two serving on the same posting.

One paw shifted, moving to curl around his glass of water. The cool sensation of condensation met fleshy pads, but he ignored it.

"Accidental as it was, I am sure that you were posted to Jovan for a purpose. The Alliance found you deserving, and awarded you in kind."

His half-lidded gaze never strayed.

"Your skills will be of great benefit to Jovan, don't you agree?"

[Joey Rabeak]

"I hope so," Joey replied with a shrug before taking a sip from his glass. "I wouldn't be a very good pilot if they aren't," he then added with a chuckle before leaning back in his chair, appreciating the soft creak of actual wood.

"Titan Squadron's a tough name to live up to. They've been through a lot, and those who remain from before the rebuild are a pretty tight group. I'm confident in my abilities, and I hope I never let my wingmates down."

It was an honest admission, and he wished he could brag about some great mission he'd been on with them already, or how he'd saved someone from a 6:00 bogey, but none of those things had happened yet. Joey Rabeak was still the greenhorn, full of technical prowess, but no works to back up his bravado. With a bit of a smirk, he lifted his glass and added, "Besides, the Alliance probably has enough propulsion engineers, already, and if I'd stayed on that track, we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we? To unexpected meetings," he offered a toast, seeing Castus still holding his own glass.

[Castus Annen]

Thick whiskers flared out for only a moment before returning to their neutral state, and the Selonian gave a nod without raising his glass.

"Indeed."

Still he stared, not particularly caring on whether or not it was impolite. He was here to study and gauge the effectiveness of those here on Jovan. It seemed at the very least though, that Jofar Rabeak was eager to prove himself despite the follies of his academy days. It was refreshing, and rather what the Titans needed after Ossus. A healthy mix of the old and the new would create a stronger squadron, and a stronger squadron meant a level of cohesion that best helped the station. It was this that he chose to voice now.

"Regardless of some of your previous... mishaps... I suspect that your addition to Titan Squadron will be a boon, and much needed."

It was all very clinical in his mind - cut and dry.

"The ability to mesh yourself with your squadron mates will be very helpful as time passes."

His glass lifted then, as he brought the rim to his lips.

"Just be sure that you remember a simulator cockpit is not the same as the real thing."

[Joey Rabeak]

To refuse the customary clink of drinkware in a toast was not something Joey was ready for, and his glass hung in midair just that moment too long for it to become awkward. As he realized there would be no returned gesture, he simply lifted his glass back to his lips for another drink - a drink which suddenly felt much-needed as Castus cut to the quick about his record at the Academy.

Pink eyes went wide, his right wider than his left, which was still recovering the final after-effects of a black eye, and the smile faded from the Nehantite's face. Despite his drink, his throat went dry, ears lowering in cautious defeat.

"Y-you know about... that?" he asked, voice wavering with uncertainty. Memories of a passionate midnight spent in the confines of a simulator with a guy whose name was unimportant, rudely interrupted by security, flooded back to him. How in the name of the Pit did Castus know about that?!

[Castus Annen]

"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."

[Joey Rabeak]

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."

[Castus Annen]

"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."

[Joey Rabeak]

"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?"

[Castus Annen]

"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."

[Joey Rabeak]

"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!"

[Castus Annen]

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.

[Joey Rabeak]

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.

[Castus Annen]

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."

[Joey Rabeak]

"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.

[Castus Annen]

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."

[Joey Rabeak]

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.

[Castus Annen]

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."

[Joey Rabeak]

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.

[Castus Annen]

* * *


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."

[Joey Rabeak]

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!

[Castus Annen]

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?"

[Joey Rabeak]

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.

[Castus Annen]

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?"

[Joey Rabeak]

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."

[Castus Annen]

The change in demeanor was abrupt and more than noticeable. The sheer difference from the man who'd stepped through his doorway to the man who stood before him in the aftermath of his query was shocking.

Which a furrow of his brow, Castus reached a paw up to scratch behind a small ear.

"Feel no shame, Jofar."

A long exhale, then.

"You are in a place of acceptance, here. As long as there is no shame, in anything that you have done, then I believe you and I are in a rather unique realm of camaraderie."

It was a strange admission, but the only type that he knew how to make.

[Joey Rabeak]

"I'm not in trouble?" the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. Joey blamed the buiberrytini.

His eyes studied the Selonian, until widening in realization. "Oh," he nodded. "Oh! Oh, okay, oh, wow, um... I, I didn't know." Words which had just moments before been itching to get out suddenly stumbled and tripped over each other, and he looked the Rear Admiral over again, from toes to eartips, the insides of his own ears flushing pink with embarrassment. At last a smile worked up his muzzle, and he tried to stifle a giggle. "So, when I was hitting on you in the restaurant, you're not mad about that?"

[Castus Annen]

"I am not."

It was a sentence that he uttered after a rather long pause. The Nehantite was relieved, and Castus was not about to bring back his previous nervousness.

"I would recommend that you make your advances less obvious in the future, however."

He spoke from a position of extreme caution, as he was still of the generation that guarded their tendencies.

But, in the privacy of his office, the Selonian was at least willing to allow himself the chance to relax; if not just a small bit.

"Your interest was a welcome thing, I will admit," he chewed out, "... I am not used to such things."

Castus steepled his fingers.

"I had a lover, once. A pilot, like you. We were together for a very long time."

He could still smell Stali's scent, sometimes, in the memory of his olfactory senses.

"Is there one close to you, that you keep close to your heart?"

[Joey Rabeak]

Waves of different emotions coursed through the Nehantite, along with reminders not to wobble, and cover it by adjusting his stance to stand at ease. "I've been told I can be too direct, at times," he nodded. "I'm... still trying to work on that. When I saw you, sir, I found you quite attractive, and, well, I kind of started thinking with the wrong brain, there."

That was as far as he could go without avoiding Castus's final question. His tone sombering, Joey nodded. "There was, many years ago. Another boy, no, man. A man I loved very much. A man I gave my heart to, and he to me, but our society would not allow it. They tore us apart, tore my family apart, and destroyed our chances at a future. I was fortunate to have money, but he did not. I tried to help him, but in the end, he turned to drugs and it killed him. I miss him, dearly, but I have had to move on. There have been two or three men since then whom I have cared for, but it did not last with any of them. So, until I meet another good man, I have allowed myself to partake in the urges of my race, and to enjoy myself with others how I see fit."

A smirk worked up his muzzle, and he chuckled. "In fact, when your message came through, I was at a club." The details about how close to making a move were left out, though his tail began flicking again, though this time in more playful a fashion. "If I may be so bold as to ask, sir, how obvious would you recommend I make my advances with you now, since we know things we did not know, before?"

[Castus Annen]

"For the time being, I would recommend that you make no advances."

His words were spoken with a crisp clip, as he let his attentions travel down to the spread of flimsis and datapads on his desk. He did not want to entertain the thought of replacing Stali. Well, not yet, at least. Or perhaps it was too painful? Jofar had many years ahead of him, to experience and take in so many things. He had had one, once before, who had held his heart. And he had lost that one. Perhaps the two were more alike than Castus had originally thought? Perhaps they were fated to meet?

He wished to know more of Jofar, and that meant knowing more of where it was that Jofar came from.

"Sit," again he gestured for the Nehantite to take a seat, " ... and tell me of the society that would not accept you and your love."

[Joey Rabeak]

In one sentence, Joey's spirits flipped from target lock to going down in flames. Perhaps he'd be back in the club after this, after all.

Situating himself in the offered seat, he tried to imagine just where to begin, or how to sum it up. In the end, it seemed wisest to just sort of let it out.

"I'm not sure how much you know of Nehantish, sir, or of our culture or ways. Most simply know us as engineers, or technicians; it's what gets us off-world. But when someone is called a Nehantite, it can mean two different things," he began. "Our planet, is now called Nehantish, and our race, Nehantites, but that's mostly due to governmental positioning and power in marketing. We don't have a centralized government, sir, not like most planets. On Nehantish there are five major kingdoms, though some aren't really kingdoms, we just use that as a name. I am of the actual kingdom of Nehantish, ruled over by the Sultan, nobles, and a sort of elected government mostly made up of nobles. In my kingdom, for a male to love another male is... forbidden. It is considered base, animal, immoral. It used to be illegal, but now it'll just ruin your chances of getting into a good school, getting a job, getting a loan, renting an apartment - anything, really. It's not illegal, but you can't have a life. In two of the other kingdoms, it is legal, and there are protections, but immigration is difficult, and expensive.

"I fell in love with my best friend when I was thirteen. He was fifteen, and had just gone through his first mating season. I should explain, that starting around fifteen, Nehantite males develop an urge to mate, an all-consuming need for sexual encounter, which lasts for four or five days, and it strikes them every year. No amount of self-control can overcome it. In times long past, a male would typically be married shortly before this time, and could be with his wife. Males who were not married would go to brothels. Those who could not afford brothels... engaged in mating with each other. For four or five days. This was seen as shameful, as it was allowing the animals we once were to overcome us, making us no longer men, but beasts. These gatherings were at first ignored, then re-named as 'relief centers,' as if that made it better. To be with another male meant you were no more than an animal, for males would resort to sexual activity with each other in these times.

"I'm told that around a hundred and fifty years ago, this changed with the development of a drug. CC-30. Taken monthly, it can delay a mating season urge by about 30 days, and can be taken up to four years consistently. But then the body requires release, or it will suffer immense psychological, and physical, damage, so you have to engage in mating season, be it with your spouse, females in a brothel, or... at a relief center.

"Like I said, my boyfriend had just had his first experience at a relief center, and I asked him about it. I didn't know he fancied me at the time, but he offered to show me, so... we mated. A few times. And then we kissed. It was then that I fell for him, with every part of my being, and we had to hide our relationship. We did for two years, until my father caught us in the act. To my surprise, he was not angry, and later that night we had a talk, and I confessed my love for Hamesh - my lover. He seemed to understand, but told me to be careful. I was, and he watched out for us, even going so far as to help arrange us time and safe places to be together. It went well, until Hamesh and I were caught again, this time by my mother. She could not accept it.

"She called me a deviant, and she called Hamesh a demon. A demon preying on a minor, for he was nineteen, then, and I was only seventeen. She called the cops, and had Hamesh arrested. I tried to tell her I loved him, but she wouldn't have it. I tried to tell her that my father knew, and supported me, and that... that was the worst mistake of my life. She reported my father for encouraging deviancy, and I was forbidden from ever having contact with him again. She divorced him, and took everything. It destroyed my family. Hamesh's family threw him out on the street when they learned of it all, and he lost his job. I... I tried to help him. I gave him money for places to stay, for clothes, for food, but no one would take him in. And in the end... it was my money that wound up buying him the drugs which provided him escape from all the hate. My money that he used to buy the drugs that killed him.

"He died because my culture simply could not understand that two boys could love each other. Truly love each other, with all their heart and body."

[Castus Annen]

It was a long tale of heartbreak, and Castus listened with intent. He took in every word that Jofar spoke, trying to understand the terrible consequences that had come from only trying to... to do the right thing.

It was in some ways similar to the mindset of his own people, and he let his gaze fall to his desk in thought. They were alike, in some ways. Expected to be creators of more life, when all that they wanted to do was live their own lives.

"Hamesh and Jofar."

He let the two names roll over his tongue slowly, feeling how each consonant and vowel sounded. And, well, they sounded right. As though they belonged together, like the most perfect of couplings. It was a tragedy then, that their time had been torn to pieces in such a way. The Selonian closed his eyes, a slow motion of his eyelids that seemed exceedingly deliberate.

"I am sorry for your loss, Jofar."

And then his eyes slowly opened once more, sending their gaze to the young Nehantite before him.

"Your story is tragic, and I feel pain for you. It is not all of the time easy to be as you and I are."

For a short moment he seemed to look at Jofar with a critical eye, as if re-positioning the pieces of the young Nehantite around, with this new information. Behind the cocky, brash pilot was one who had been terribly hurt and torn from love. It was tragic.

"I have a fear, however, that you are looking for a medicine that lasts for only a short while. Something that is a topical treatment."

There was a sting in his voice; not of condemnation however, but rather the sting of a loss. A loss of an old friend and lover. And buried even further beneath those tones, was the intention of one hoping to find a way to salve that wound.

[Joey Rabeak]

You sound like my dad, Joey said to himself, and thankfully not aloud.

"Perhaps," the Nehantite nodded, weighing what he knew was in his file on the Rear Admiral's desk. "But at the same time, is it right to deny myself the pleasure my body seeks? A pleasure so strong that my creator insisted that my race know it, and know it fully?"

It was the wrong thing to say, but before he could be told off by the voice of wisdom, he added, "After all, it was only after sex - glorious, passionate, intensely spiritual sex - that Hamesh and I found our connection, discovered we truly loved each other. If my creator brought me my love once in such a way, should I believe he would not do so a second time?"

[Castus Annen]

"Your creator," Castus rumbled lowly, choosing his words carefully, "was not so silly as to make his creations so singularly in their desires, I would imagine."

A pause, as he pulled back. He did not know the full breadth of the Nehantish creation myth, or the creator that governed it, and in a moment of personal indulgence he had presumed to dictate the intentions of such. The Selonian fell silent, internally chastising himself for a moment before slowly resuming.

"What you had with Hamesh was no doubt a pure thing."

But, talk of Jofar's personal life was not the only reason that he'd been called here.

"However, you are here now, because one of my squadrons has recently found itself with a vacancy."

Castus pulled a datapad from beneath a small stack of flimsis, and deftly flicked it on.

"Would you be interested in such a posting?"

[Joey Rabeak]

Joey's brow raised, then crimped as the offer was posed. It was not what he had expected the visit to entail, not in the slightest, and he was visibly caught off guard. An offer to change squadrons, to head out on a forward ship and be more likely to engage the enemy where it mattered. It was the sort of thing which could prove a young pilot, yet Joey hesitated.

On Jovan, he had found a home, a new family in his squadron, and the surprise reunion with his father. Then there was Zane, the tea house, and his slowly building reputation as a good pilot within Titan Squadron - a squadron many pilots would fight to join. He considered what it would mean to leave all that behind, and to take on the Rear Admiral's offer.

Pink eyes studied the Selonian once more, and he attempted not to shift in his seat as he felt that familiar tightness in his trousers. "Sir, may I be permitted to ask some questions as to your motive for this offer?" he asked at last. Gaining a nod, he took a breath, forming his words in his mind.

"The offer is flattering," he said. "To serve a Rear Admiral directly as part of his squadron is no small honor, yet I get the impression this offer is not based solely upon my skills in the cockpit. You suggested I make no advances, but I feel you have just made one on me, sir, as I feel you are considering my sexuality as well, and are indirectly inviting me in hopes of forming a romantic relationship. I know Selonians don't lie, so your words are careful to disguise meaning when possible - and that is not meant as an insult, sir."

A breath, and he sat back in his chair, looking the Rear Admiral directly in the eye. "I need to know: is this offer being made so that I might further my career under you, or is it so could have me close to you both physically, and intimately?"

[Castus Annen]

A single brow-ridge rose, and Castus allowed himself to slowly lean back in his seat, the stiff leather creaking beneath his weight. He considered the question put to him, and without breaking eye contact, steepled his thick fingers together, two digits slowly tapping each other.

"We do not lie," he started slowly in confirmation, "... that is true."

"My reasons for giving you this offer is largely on the merits of your Academy scores - " the rhythmic tapping was paused, as one hand rose to lift a finger up, " - after you chose to enter the pilot program. Your record since arriving at Jovan is one that any commanding officer would be proud to have in his ranks, and Commander Akiena has been an honest judge of your performance since being placed in Titan Squad. Yours is a talent and presence that many would wish to have."

The second part of Jofar's question was considered with equal thoughtfulness.

"As for whether I wish to begin an intimate partnership, I will tell you now, in this moment, that I am not looking for such a thing. What you perceive as an advance is simply understanding. You and I choose to enjoy the company of those of the same sex, but that does not mean that any offer given is rooted in a desire to copulate. I will admit to you that I find you curious and unique, but for the time being, that is as far as my interest goes."

The Selonian let a bare moment of silence to hover before going on.

"For now, I am extending my offer so that you might continue your career, and grow into the pilot that your instructors at the Academy believed you could be."

[Joey Rabeak]

...for the time being. For now. Key words when regarding what he knew of Selonians. Other races would have simply used a double entente, or outright lied with a wink, but Joey guessed that careful world placement was the Selonian equivalent. He'd be a terrible Selonian, with all the lies and deception in his own life, but that was neither here nor there. This conversation was about honesty, even if it took several side streets and back alleys on its way to its point.

"I see," Joey nodded. It bought time, time to think, time to work out what were his real thoughts, what were hormones, and what was alcohol. His tailtip flicked and bounced again, now operating under its own direction, as his brain occupied itself fully.

"Sir, I hope you will understand if I am conflicted at your offer," Sitting up straighter, he paused to adjust himself, having no reason to hide it. "I came here expecting your summons to be either a reprimand, or a booty call, and I was wrong on both." Joey chuckled, then held up a paw to be allowed to continue. "Your offer is generous, yes, but if I go back to when you asked if I was happy on Jovan, I feel my answer would be no better if I served under you. Location means less to me than the people and experiences which surround me. I have made friends here, I have purpose, and I have my father back in my life, which means a great deal. At the same time, I could go farther in my career with you, but there is a problem there."

He swallowed, then cleared his throat lightly. "You might not desire an intimate relationship with me now, and perhaps you never will, but I desire one. A man my age craves such things, and I worry that I would either unintentionally exert pressure on you for such a relationship, or I would unintentionally break your heart if one was not offered before I found myself in the arms of another man, causing potential jealousy. But that's not the biggest worry I have.

"I worry that if, as I guess may be hidden in how you have worded things, you may eventually have feelings for me of such a nature, that it would reflect poorly upon you to be in a relationship with one of your subordinates. A Lieutenant Junior Grade with a Rear Admiral? It will not matter how well I perform in the cockpit, there would always be rumors or favoritism. It could cost both of us our careers, and I don't trust my desires to keep me from attempting to be with you - you've seen in my file how they've gotten me in trouble in the past. For the sake of honesty, I'll admit it: I find you immensely attractive, sir, and that may cause me errors in judgement in the future with the arrangement you have offered me."

He bit his lower lip, chewing on it before adding. "And, right now might not be the best time for me to be making this decision, sir."

[Castus Annen]

The bout of honestly, and the lack of double-meanings was something that he found himself greatly appreciating, and Castus slowly gave a nod to Jofar.

"Your words have merit, and I thank you for that."

The datapad he still held was slowly set to the desk. He had intended to hand it to the Nehantite, so that the young man could peruse the information on Krayt Squadron and its members. Now though, he simply switched it back off.

"I can also understand your reluctance, and will respect your wishes. If you feel that your best work can be done here, on Jovan, then I'll not press the matter any further."

He thought for a short bit, before addressing the other words that Jofar had spoken.

"What I want and desire, for myself personally, is not relevant. For me, at the very least. When I say that I am not looking for a mate, I promise to you that right now, I am not. Perhaps in the future yes, but in the present, it is not advisable."

He could've spoken more. Spoken of Stali, and of the many years that the two had been so purely intimate in more ways than the simple physical act. But, his privacy was well-guarded, and at this juncture he wished to say nothing. Instead, his fingers returned to their steepled form.

"Perhaps in the future, when you feel that your time on Jovan has reached its conclusion, I will be able to accommodate you."

[Joey Rabeak]

"Sir, it... wasn't a no," Joey replied with a staying paw.

"Your offer is great indeed, but like I said, this really isn't the best time for me to be making such an important decision." He bit his lip again, then let his broad shoulders slump. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

[Castus Annen]

Castus considered the request, then finally gave a nod.

"You may."

[Joey Rabeak]

Joey's ears came back up, and he attempted to smile. "Sir, the reason I can't answer you right now is because I'm not in a fit state to do so," he began.

"Between dinner and now, I hit a club, had a few drinks, and was well into the mood for... you know. So I'm a little drunk, and more than a little preoccupied with other thoughts. I'd like the chance to sleep on this, as right now one part of me would like to serve under you, but another part is telling me how badly it wants to be under you."

[Castus Annen]

If there was any reaction to the young Nehantite's last words, Castus gave no indication, as his ermine features remained steadfast.

"I'm sure," he finally gave in response.

Yet, he let little breath pass before going on.

"If you wish to think further on my offer, then by all means, please do. Such a decision is not made in a short amount of time."

Slowly then, the Selonian disengaged his hands from each other to reach forward and begin gathering the flimsis and datapads that were laid out upon his desk.

"Tend to your previous endeavors, Jofar. I am patient."

[Joey Rabeak]

"It's not because of lack of character or personal responsibility, sir," Joey replied.

Rising from his seat, he straightened his flight jacket.

"The Alliance loses more fighter pilots every day than any other occupation. I never know if I'll have a tomorrow, so I must make the most of my every day. To let others know how I feel about them, in case I don't another chance. If this has come off as immature or irresponsible, I apologize, but I'd rather apologize for that than leave someone wanting. I know what it's like to miss someone who had no tomorrow, sir."