Administrator
Synopsis: Srina has been invited to the Echani Command for a gathering and has misread the invitation. She believes that she must make a dish to share and that buying one is inappropriate. The only problem is...She can't cook. At all. Poor Aryn.
Location: Naboo [[member="Aryn Teth"] Residence]
The breathtaking sight of an early twilight crept across the quiet estate in a distant corner of Naboo. The sun had dipped low behind the hills in the distance and the sounds of cicada making their high pitched songs rang through the open windows. The very first stars were just starting to show their faces and the shadows began to melt with a greater darkness. Little fireflies winked in and out of existence in an idyllic fashion that gave credence to the peaceful beauty of the pastoral world. One of several private landing pads was currently occupied with the Ferocity. It glistened in the dimness, a metallic monstrosity, amongst all the beauty that nature had to offer.If one looked hard enough into the growing dark they would see reflective red photoreceptors winking in and out in the distance. They were stealthy, silent, and outfitted with the latest stealth tech. A small squad of five MagnaGuard walked the perimeter. They were armed with the typical phrik electro staffs, however, it was more of a formality than anything else. Naboo was just about as safe as Castagne. It wasn’t really expected that they would encounter any trouble and were set on capture protocol versus kill. It wouldn’t be good if some lost citizen stepped afoul a murder-bot and lost his head unjustly for taking a wrong turn.
Further inward, toward the home itself, two small droid rabbits could be seen fighting one another in the courtyard. One glowed a deep crimson, while the other, and was silhouetted in blue. Their robotic chattering seemed almost childlike when combined with the harmless glows rods they bandied, pretending to be Jedi and Sith, locked in a timeless imaginary battle. It was one of their favorite things to do.
Through the front entrance, the double front door was open wide, lest the little droids lock themselves out. Like any good parent, though their Mistress was far from mothering, she left the lights on for them. Secretly, they were programmed to like it when she doted on them. On the outside they were petulant. Insistent, that they did not need supervision or training wheels.
Through the entryway, a pair of rather small blue flats could be seen resting by the door. A cloak the color of a periwinkle sky, edged in silver, was draped casually over a lounge. Both dimmed fluorescents and soft candlelight provided a well-lit ambiance. The space would seem brighter the closer one got to the expansive kitchen. Scents from the candles, cinnamon and apple from local vendors, filled the air and made it seem as if the individual puttering around in the kitchen had any idea what they were doing.
Srina had been invited to attend some sort of formal gathering in the very near future for Echani Command. She had the required clothing, the invitation, and transport. What she did not have was the required dish to share. All over the granite salt and pepper speckled island lay meticulously cut pieces of fruit in little piles. There were also various ingredients “measured” out into little glass bowls. Currently, on the stove, lay the remains of some sort of gelatin mixture that she had poured carefully into a mold with the fruit to try and get the required dessert.
The first half-dozen attempts hadn’t come out of the pot without a chisel and slight application of the Force. If anything, she’d figured out how to make glue, but none of it was edible. The Exarch of the Confederacy couldn’t figure out what she was doing wrong. The pale-skinned Echani, wrapped in a cotton dress that she had been assured, wouldn’t look out of place, stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed. Despite the fact that the kitchen looked like a disaster had rolled through she somehow still seemed entirely pristine. Long white hair fell down her back, unbraided as it rarely was, and her expression remained entirely pensive.
She was determined—if nothing else could be said. Srina went over the directions in her head and used the holo-projector to run through them one more time. She hadn’t forgotten anything, had she? Sugar? Or was it salt? Her elegant brow furrowed as silver eyes tried to make sense of the overly complicated list of ingredients. She had never attended an event, aside from the Winter Celebration with the Silvers, that had required her to cook.
In that instance, she had managed to make cookies. Sort of. They could also be used as weaponry or Frisbees. That is, if no one broke their teeth, trying to bite into one first. She couldn’t imagine how her Master had gotten through it. She’d tried one later on and found the consistency to be like chewing rocks. The taste, if the chalky, horribleness was able to be ignored—could be tolerated with preparation in the form of wine.
Lots of wine.
Aryn had given her the coordinates of his new home quite some time ago. Just her luck, when she came to visit, she was early. Several days early in fact. Srina had spent her time familiarizing herself with the planet and its people. There were markets not too far by land speeder and plenty of friendly people willing to make suggestions for entertainment. Were it not for them she might have spent the last two days cooped up in the sparsely furnished guest room. Odd, because he had mentioned hanging up some of the items she had left with him. Srina couldn’t find any of it. She had purchased many things, on a whim, simply to add a little color to the monochromatic space her Jedi had purchased.
She caught herself in that thought. Srina wasn’t sure, technically, that he considered himself to be a Jedi anymore—but it was an old habit. The small woman had thoughtfully filled his cupboards with edibles and fresh baked goods from Theed. At least, this way, she wouldn’t break his stomach entirely with anything she managed to come up with.
So lost in her musings she wouldn’t necessarily react when his ship arrived. Fruit juice. Why did she need fruit juice when she had already added fruit? Sighing heavily, she reached up and brushed lengths of white hair from her eyes, not realizing that she left a powdery white streak of dry gelatin across her cheek.
At the very least Srina was rather proud. She’d been experimenting most of the day and nothing had been directly set on fire. Or, melted. Not aside from one cooking utensil that she didn’t realize wasn’t entirely flame retardant. It had looked sturdy. The ever-practical woman had simply decided not to think about that one and had hidden the remains in the trash compactor.
Aryn wouldn’t look there for his missing storage containers. She was sure of it.
