Private Steel Aprons & Old Lightsabers

[Varek Fenn]

A solid year and a couple thousand credits later, Varek had found himself to be an exceptional chef. He truly left the life of war and combat behind and traded it for a life filled with pure ingredients. For Varek, cooking was better than seeing the end of a barrel, or worse, hearing the sound of a humming red saber. Part of him deep down missed it though. Fighting for something that mattered more than his current 3,500 square foot cantina. In truth, he was barely an owner of the place. His few thousand credits made what it was today possible. A crowded cantina filled to the brim, the capacity of the guest was clearly over the allowed limit, but that didn't stop the drinks from flowing and the food from being delivered perfectly hot.

The sizziling splatter from below the steel pan hissed, steam rising to the air as an aroma of seasoned Shaak filled the kitchen. A sudden beeping from the back far wall chimed loudly, to allow the other chef to rush and pull the first dutch oven from the nanowave appliance. The burst of spices and beautifully simmering local mushrooms began to take over. The roasted meat perfectly sat above a sprinkle of greens and noodles. The braised shaak was cooked medium rare, the slight charred edges were from a process of searing. All before being placed into the oven for the final result, that was now placed in front of Varek.

"Chef! The next batch of the Braised Ala Shaak is ready!" A young male Clarodian yelled, after placing the goregeous meat onto the duratsteel countertop. Varek looked at the horns first and then shifted his yellow eyes to the young man.
"Excellent, Yamir." Varek's tone was gruff, but pleased. "Now go drop the last of the fresh pasta. We have two more tables and the kitchen is done for the night."
"Yes, Chef!"

Varek moved quickly, grabing a few utensils and lightly removing the shaak meat from the dutchy. With precsion the meat fit into the sizziling oil and fresh garlic. He began to slowly turn it, searing the mid sections of the juicy delight. The oil fused into it and the sheer pink color of the meat began to lightly turn brown. The timing had to be perfect and the internal clock of Varek's mind began to clock it. Then the greens were added, leaving the sauce to stew on the side with the fresh pasta floating to the top. A step that had to take place before Varek was ready to have it enter the pan. In a brisk motion of pure refinement, he sliced into the meat. With satisfaction he waited, his eyes glowing with intensity as he watched the garlic glaze over the fresh greens with a spatula. Then he twisted the meat over and before he gave a second thought, poured the brown sauce and noodles into the mix. A burst of flame roared beneath the pan, but instead of concern a smile reached Varek's face. He peered out of the kitchen window, taking notice of the immense crowd.

"Yamir! Let's get that last dish done, we are almost ready to serve!"
"Heard, Chef!" Yamir responded quickly and rushed to the other side of the kitchen island. More spices and a few herbs were needed for the final garnish. He knew all too well that the Crimson Chef wasn't going to find forgetting acceptable. That was just the way things were. It might have been a rough opportunity to work as a chef for a cantina, but truly, Yamir was to learn all he could from Varek and respected him for his craft.

A few minutes passed and the plates were steaming hot and ready to be whisked away into the front half of the cantina. Varek, wiped his head dry and turned the burners off before taking a deep breath.

Another successful rush.

Varek grinned and looked to Yamir. The kid had spunk and he was learning everyday. Still, that didn't mean the kitchen was going to clean itself.

"Start with the prep station and work your way to the sink over here. I'm taking a break, if you need me..." Varek paused, looking out into the sea of all the guests through the long window into the bar. "I'm going to have a drink at the bar."

He pushed the swinging doors open, a brisk rush of cool air slammed into him and his Lekku slightly twitched. His tall red image taking up the entire frame of the walkway before proceeding. A few people gave him a nod or two of acknowledgement. As he sat down onto the old wooden stool, he could overhear the satisfied customers with their food. He smiled, lifted his finger to the bartender and waited for his usual.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

Outfit: smuggler outfit
Weapons: Blasters

Sometime before Return...

Valery had not intended to stay long.

That was what she had told herself when she stepped into the cantina. One drink, perhaps two, and then she would figure out where she was going next. It had been a simple plan. Simple plans had always been easier to make than to follow, however.

She sat at the bar with one elbow resting against the worn countertop, a metal cup held loosely in her hand. The years had changed her appearance only in small ways. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail, leaving a few loose strands around her face. She wore a fitted white blouse with the sleeves rolled to her elbows, the fabric laced together at the front and left slightly open at the collar. It had been tucked into dark trousers, practical enough for travel but it was far removed from the robes and armor she had once worn almost every day. A simple belt rested around her waist, though there was no lightsaber hanging from it. Only her blaster pistol to avoid unwanted attention.

She took another drink and watched the crowd around her. People laughed over their meals, glasses struck against the bar, and somewhere behind her, the kitchen continued its relentless work. The comforting smell of seared meat and spices lingered in the air.

Valery had spent the better part of a year fighting after the Galactic Alliance fell. She had gathered rebels, moved supplies, planned strikes, watched people disappear and kept going because there had always been another thing that needed doing. Then, one day, she had simply stopped.

Now she was coming back, and she had no idea what that was supposed to mean just yet. The Galaxy had changed once again, and she needed to find her bearings.

Her gaze drifted toward the kitchen as the last plates disappeared into the crowd. The chef eventually emerged, taking his place at the bar after the rush. Valery studied him for a moment before looking down at her drink again.

She could leave. She had become very good at leaving. Instead, she turned slightly on her stool and glanced toward Varek, a faint smile forming at the corners of her lips.

"The food here smells considerably better than anything I've eaten lately." She lifted her cup in a small gesture toward the kitchen.

Varek Fenn ​

 

[Varek Fenn]

Varek took it all in as he waited for his drink.

The sheer rush of people in the cantina was a sight to behold. Just a short year ago, he was staring at electrical wires hanging from the ceiling, cracked walls, torn seats and a torched bar counter. Some of the charm still remained though. Like the small burn marks that lingered along the inside walls of the counter he currently sat at. The dents and tiny hole in the wall near the restroom. Even the names of himself and the other owners into the wooden border at the entrance door.

It made him smile just thinking about it, it made him happy.
​

"The food here smells considerably better than anything I've eaten lately."

The voice tore him away from his thoughts. His chiseled jawline tightened into a wider smile at the compliment. He turned his head, his montrals slightly twitching as he did. His gold eyes locked with Valery's deep peach eyes. It was brief and although she had grabbed his attention, he looked back at the bartender as she raised her mug. He gave a nod to speed the process up before turning back to her.

"You're too kind." Varek's voice was deep, but soothing. "I'm getting better everyday, at least that's what the regulars keep telling me."

The Crimson Chef looked her up and down, her attire was screaming smuggler, but Varek knew better. She was a different breed, everything from the tight pony tail, small, but athletic frame and the two blasters at her curve hugging waist. To a soldier she would have been considered "hot for her age," but Varek noticed something far more special about her in terms of natural beauty.

Valery's scar over her left eye.

Varek had his own scars from his time as a soldier, but to him, her scar was like a quiet map on her skin. A tale that told him exactly where she had been and what she had endured. Part of him felt for her, having known he bore deeper wounds than her own, even if they were hidden beneath his chef coat. In those few seconds of realization, he was already connected to her.

"What brings someone like you to a place like this?" Varek's eyes glistened with curiosity and he leaned turning fully sideways to give Valery every ounce of his frame. To her, she wouldn't see the tone and muscular body beneath, she wouldn't see the old soldier. Instead, she would see his vascular forearms, the tight fit of his black chef jacket, his prominent chin and thick neck. She may have noticed his obvious black, white and red lekku widely hanging across the front of his bulky shoulders. Lastly, but certainly not least she would have noticed his large well defined hands.

Without little notice for the two nearly full mugs being delivered, Varek stared into her endless tangerine pools before he slid her drink back to her.


Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

Outfit: smuggler outfit
Weapons: Blasters

Valery's eyes followed his as he turned toward her, and the faint smile on her lips grew when he gave her a proper look. She returned the favor without much shame. Her gaze traveled from his montrals to the broad shoulders beneath his chef jacket, then lower toward those rather impressive forearms and hands. By the time her eyes found his again, the smile had shifted into a knowing smirk. Whatever thoughts had occupied her before coming inside, he had managed to distract her from them rather effectively.

"Someone like me?" Valery asked, amused. She reached for the mug he had slid back toward her and took another drink, using those few seconds to consider how much she actually wanted to say. The answer was very little. She had spent too long making herself difficult to find to start explaining her life to a handsome stranger over the first round of drinks.

"I'm just passing through," she eventually said, which was technically true enough. Her fingers remained curled around the mug as she turned a little more toward him on the stool. "Right now, I'm mostly interested in a good drink, something worth eating, and not thinking too hard about where I'm going next." Her gaze dipped across him once more, slower this time, before settling back on those golden eyes. Valery took another sip and let the silence linger just long enough to make the meaning behind her expression difficult to miss.

"And perhaps some entertainment." The smirk returned as she set her mug down. Her path would be hard the coming months, so she knew she'd have to take time to eat well, hear stories and spend time around the people of the Galaxy. She could not allow herself to be disconnected any longer.

Varek Fenn ​