Part I."I know a girl called Elsah; she's into
Alda-Seltzer . . ."

The water foams up, and you start to giggle. You
know it's wrong, that you shouldn't be doing it, but
damn if it isn't funny as hell. You look at your
friend Elsah and you both erupt with laughter.
"Okay, okay," she splutters. "Now that we know
it'll work, just leave it there and we've got to get
out of here. You know it's up in front of the
tribunal again if he sees us in here doing this. And
after that business with the Corellian duracrete and
the sentry droid last month, the tribunal is NOT our
friend."
"Point well taken," you say as you open the
package
and drop a large stack of the tablets down the drain.
"That should do it. They won't really do any
harm . . . they'll just fizz up real big until they
dissolve. He might even laugh."
"Do I hear you justifying this prank to yourself,
Ms. Deputy to the Head Supply and Ration Officer?"
Elsah laughs at you.
"I'm not justifying anything. Now did you finish
cleaning this place? One wouldn't think our C.O.
would be so messy . . ." You look around the
now-clean quarters, which were an absolute nightmare
when you and Elsah entered.
"Oh, it's always a sty. I drew the short straw
this week. Of course, I'm rather glad I did, what
with all that extra Alda-Seltzer you got in this
week." Elsah collects her supplies and stacks them on
her helper droid, which beeps and rolls out the door
before you.
"How did that happen, anyway?"
"My boss has got it bad for our darling C.O.,
who's
going to have quite the fizzy 'fresher sink this
evening. She's been mooning around for weeks.
Sometimes, she spaces out and orders too much of
something. But it's never anything we *need.* Why do
you think we had all that extra Corellian duracrete?"
you say.
"Oh. And the poor Alderaanian who delivered all
those fizz tablets probably thought we were all lying
around, groaning with indigestion." Elsah snorts.
"So your boss wants the General, eh?"
"Extremely badly," you reply. "Hey, speaking of indigestion, let's see what our friends in the mess hall are passing off as food tonight. I could eat a bantha."
"I'm hungry, too," says Elsah. "I've just gotta
drop off this droid." We make a detour past the
maintenance storage area, where she leaves the droid
with hundreds of others like him.
"Why do you do this, anyway?" you ask. "You're
Chief Maintenance Officer, not a broom-pushing grunt."
"I've always hated bosses who don't want to get
their hands dirty, and I've no intention of becoming
one. Besides, if I was that type, we never would've
been afforded the golden opportunity we got this
evening." Elsah grins wickedly at you as you enter
the mess hall.
"True enough." You get in line and take a
steaming tray of food from the serving droid. Elsah
gets a matching tray, and you sit down at a table.
"Hi, ladies. May I sit down here?" A male voice interrupts your giggling with Elsah, and you look up to see Artillery Officer Zandru Khirin smiling down at you. You nearly choke on your rubbery nerfburger and look up at him, glassy-eyed. You've had a serious thing for him since he was assigned to the ship, a "thing" which gave rise to many discussions of "Lieutenant Zandru's <insert eyebrow waggle here> *laser cannon*."
Elsah boots your shin under the table and smiles
up
at Zandru. "Of course you can sit here, Lieutenant."
"Y-yes, do sit down," you finally get out. "The
nerfburgers are excellent tonight, Lieutenant."
"Excellent?" Zandru's lovely eyes get wide.
"Have
we changed chefs?"
"Well, no," you say. "Excellent in that I now
know what happened to that extra gross of
training-room
mats my boss ordered a couple weeks ago."
While Zandru laughs, Elsah gives you a furtive
thumbs-up. You've made a joke! He thinks you're
funny! You try to tear your gaze away from his
black-fringed silver eyes and find yourself losing the
battle. Fortunately, Elsah comes to your rescue.
"So, how are things in the armory, Lieutenant?"
she asks.
"Things are getting exciting. We did a weapons
test today. We've got excellent gunners, and they're
making great progress with the new laser cannon. It's
quite large and unwieldy, but I think they've got the
hang of controlling it now."
"Is that so, Lieutenant?" Elsah is doing an
infinitely better job containing herself than you are.
"Oh, yes. You wouldn't think it, because it's so
huge, but the laser cannon really requires quite a
gentle touch." Zandru is oblivious to your imminent
death over his discussion of his weapon.
You can't breathe. The bite of nerfburger you
just
swallowed is like a boulder in your throat. "Ahmgonna
gessum water," you mumble and dash away from the
table.
You guzzle water and concentrate on breathing.
When you are sufficiently composed, you return to the
table. Zandru and Elsah are laughing about something
which you pray is not you-related.
"He'll die when he sees it. Maybe he'll even
laugh. I know he does have quite a sense of humor,"
Zandru says.
"I was just telling the Lieutenant about our
little
fizz caper," says Elsah. "Are you okay now?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just got a little nerf stuck in
my
throat," you say, pleased with your ability to sound
calm.
"Nerf gristle is awful. I've been there before."
Zandru smiles at you and you want to melt. "Well,
ladies, I've got to be off. I'll see you around
later--but I'm sure I'll hear of the fallout from your
prank soon."
As soon as he is out of earshot, Elsah leans
toward
you. "Honey, you're in the door."
"What are you talking about?" you ask, puzzled.
"While you were in the throes of death from the
combined effects of the nerfburger and the laser
cannon, the silver-eyed one asked for your comm ID."
Elsah is gleeful.
"Oooh! Maybe he wants to take me out during shore
leave next week! Thank you, Elsah!"
"Maybe he'll give you some hands-on laser cannon
training." She snorts.
"I can do 'gentle touch.' I wouldn't mind that at
all." You can barely keep a lid on your glee as you
turn back to your tray.
"Don't bite that nerfburger again."

*******

Later, in your quarters, as you are dressing for
bed, your comm beeps. Still tangled in your pants,
you
crash mightily to the floor in your mad dash to get to
it. Zandru is really calling you! You pick yourself
up and take a deep breath before clicking it on.
"Deputy Chief of Supply and Ration," you answer,
mentally patting yourself on the back for sounding
almost normal.
"Get down to my office right now." That is not
your darling silver-eyed Zandru of the large, unwieldy
laser cannon. That is not anyone you want to talk to
right now, or possibly ever. That is your C.O. That
is your
not-very-amused-just-discovered-that-his-sink-fizzed
C.O.
"Yes, General," you answer meekly.
"Aren't you going to ask why, Officer?"
"No, Sir."
"Then we both know why?"
"Maybe, Sir."
"Down here. Five minutes." He clicks off.
You struggle back into your pants and make tracks
down to the General's office. You figure that the
sooner you get there, the sooner it'll be over.
Before you even touch the door signal, you hear him
bark, "Come in!" You're momentarily rattled until you
remember that your boss' love object is also a Jedi.
You walk in. He stands behind his desk, and to
your surprise, he looks downright . . . comfortable.
You don't know who came in and took away the perfectly
buttoned and creased General Kenobi, but you want to
thank whoever it is, because with his uniform shirt
unbuttoned a little and his belt loosened, he looks
almost approachable.
"Do you know why you're here, Officer?"
"Well . . ."
"My sink fizzed, Officer! It fizzed up nice and
big and foamy as soon as I ran water in it! It was
almost like someone had put . . . Alda-Seltzer in it!"
Crazily, desperately, you want to laugh at his vivid description.
"Oh, did it, Sir?" you ask, barely audibly.
"Yes, Officer, in fact it did. It was a
rather . . . interesting surprise."
"I imagine it would be, General."
"Rest assured it was. Where did you even get that
much Alda-Seltzer, Officer?"
"Well, it was all surplus, since my boss--aw,
damn."
"Don't worry. I knew it was you all along. I
spoke with a droid who told me you were the only
person seen entering my quarters besides the
maintenance staff." You see no reason to get Elsah
busted, too, so you keep your mouth shut on that one.
Hell, he might even figure that out himself, being a
Jedi and all.
Kenobi's expression is unreadable. You notice he
isn't bad-looking at all, and you do see what your
boss sees in him, especially when he's in his relaxed
state. His eyes are pretty, and the uniform certainly
does no ill to his figure.
Suddenly, one corner of his full mouth turns up.
"Thank you, Officer," he says.
"For what, General?"
//Your compliment, Officer.//
Damn Jedi. Now he's inside your head. You'll
have
to be more careful what you think.
"Now, what shall be done with you, Officer? I
haven't forgotten about that poor droid and the
Corellian duracrete." He makes his way around the
desk
to where you stand, stiffly at attention. Wildly, you
notice that he seems to be *prowling.* He doesn't
stop until he's practically nose-to-nose with you.
"At ease, Officer," he purrs.
You let your shoulders relax a fraction. You wish
you knew what the hell was going on. He does smell
nice, though.
//It's Terran sandalwood.// Oh, my. Even his
mind-voice is purring. "You know," he says aloud. "I
could have you hauled before the tribunal for this."
You feel your shoulders go rigid, and you're
practically at attention again. "I know, Sir." He
has to be sensing your fear by this point.
In a blink, he is behind you, rubbing your
shoulders. While he's got nice, warm hands and is
doing a fine job of alleviating your tension, you
still have no idea what's going on at all.
"However, Officer, since you and I are the only
ones who know about your little gag, I think I can
keep it quiet, since it was quite harmless, really."
Kenobi is still massaging your shoulders; you fight
back a sigh of contentment.
"Thank you, Sir. I shan't do it again, Sir."
"Of course you won't fill my sink drain with
Alda-Seltzer again. You'll find a new prank." He's
down to your lower back. "I still don't know what
happened to that extra gross of training-room mats."
"Nerfburgers, General." you say. "I take it you
weren't in the mess hall tonight," you say drily, and
you are surprised by his chuckle. Oh, gods. You
can't believe you joked with him. The things he's
doing to your back must have your guard way down.
//They're supposed to, Officer.// His mind-voice,
if it is possible, has become even *more* sultry.
"I'm
sorry. I'll stop doing that if it unnerves you. But
really, what did you expect when you came down here?"
"Another visit to the tribunal," you say plainly.
"Don't you know what happens to attractive women
under my command when they get in trouble with me?"
"Well, no . . . should I?" Okay. Now you have
*no* clue at all what's going on, and dammit, he's
still rubbing!
"You have to have read their accounts," he says,
almost impatiently. "They publish them, only with
their names removed and in second person. Apparently,
it's something called an ABH, sometimes also a PWP. I
don't know what those letters are, though."
"I can't say that I have read such things,
General," you say, truthfully.
"Well, I have, and I suppose I'm becoming rather predictable . . . you know, cute, spunky woman runs afoul of me, I call her in and play hardass with her, and then we have sweaty sex."
Suddenly your mind is invaded by an image of a
very
nude General Kenobi writhing above an equally nude
you. It isn't an unpleasant image. It just isn't one
that had ever crossed your mind before.
Seeing your wide eyes, he apologizes. "I suppose
that was presumptuous of me."
"No, you haven't acted inappropriately, General.
It's just that I never thought of you that way at
all." Before you can stop yourself, your mind's eye
is full of an image similar to that which Kenobi sent
you, but with Zandru in his place above you, thick
black hair falling into his passion-filled silver
eyes.
"Ah, Lieutenant Khirin." Kenobi smiles at you.
"He's a fine man. He made Knight a few years after I
did."
Zandru is a *Jedi*? You suppress a
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Or you think you did. The General
is laughing at you.
You take a deep breath and try to fight the
flames
that have risen in your cheeks. "Anyway, General, I'm
sorry this didn't work out the way you'd planned."
"No, don't apologize. I shouldn't have been so
sure of my appeal. But the sink was funny." He sends
you another image, this one of his face upon
discovering his fizzy sink. The shock and
befuddlement on his face are priceless, and you wish
someone had taken a holo. In fact, you know someone
who'd think that holo was adorable.
"Who?" Kenobi looks at you, amused.
You seize the opportunity to do something nice for
two people--the General, for his leniency and
unexpected sense of humor, and your boss, who you do
consider a good friend, if a bit flaky at times.
"Well, General, let's just say you really must speak
with the Chief of Supply and Ration about these random over-orders she keeps making. Maybe if you give her a good talking-to, she'll shape up."
"Thank you for advising me, Officer." His
blue-green eyes twinkle at you. "Dismissed."
"Goodnight, General Kenobi."
He winks at you as the door slides shut.

********

As you walk back to your quarters, smiling, your
comm beeps again. You unhook it from your belt and
answer, "Deputy Chief of Supply and Ration."
"Hello, there. I seem to have had a nerfburger at
dinner that didn't sit quite right . . . are you the
person I should see to get some Alda-Seltzer?" You
can hear the smile in Zandru's voice.
"Ah, Lieutenant Khirin." You smile back, knowing
you look idiotic, walking through the halls, grinning
into your comm.
"Please call me Zandru. I hope you don't mind me
calling . . . when I asked her for your comm ID, Elsah
said you wouldn't mind at all if she gave it to me."
"Zandru, I don't mind any way I get to hear your
voice." you say as you key your door open.
"So, what are you doing up?" he asks.
"Ah, I'm a night owl. Besides, I just came from a tete-a-tete with our C.O. I didn't know you knew General Kenobi."
"I don't really flaunt my Jedi-ness," he says.
"It's fine for Obi-Wan, because he's a celebrity Jedi.
Besides, he's in charge of this whole glorious heap.
I'm not. And I like being just the weapons geek. At
the Temple, though I was trained mainly as a diplomat,
I did specialized study on the history of all kinds of weaponry. And now that we've found ourselves at war, my duty is to serve the Republic to the best of my abilities."
"And it's become a job rather than an academic
pursuit."
"I suppose it has. I never dreamed that the
weapons I designed as exercises in physics would come
to life in battle. It's really rather bittersweet."
"The scholar turned warrior...I can see how that
would be. We all have interesting journeys," you muse
as you remove a teacup from your cupboard.
"I sense that yours is quite interesting as well,
and I'd love to hear about it. Listen, I know it's
rather forward of me, but would you like to bring that
teacup up here and join me? I was just brewing tea
now, and I know you like the Mykellian Breakfast blend
. . ." he trails off.
"I'd love nothing more, Zandru."
"Wonderful. I'll see you in a few minutes."
"Zandru? How did you know I had a teacup in my
hand and what my favorite tea is?" you ask as you exit
your room again and walk back up the hall, comm glued
to your ear.
"I suddenly got a mental image of you sipping from
a large blue mug with a chip in the handle."
"So you Jedi-ed me, eh, Khirin?" You smile at him
when you arrive at his quarters, clipping your comm
back to your belt and carrying the mug he described
from his vision.
"Well, I didn't Jedi you completely . . . I
remembered seeing you buying Mykellian Breakfast at
the
commissary last week."
You both laugh.
*******

"So, wait. You mean to tell me that Kenobi found
the fizz funny?" Elsah is grilling you the next
evening at dinner in the mess hall (a "nerf" stew
which seems to have been made from training-mat
giblets).
"He did! The image he sent me of that look on his
face was priceless."
". . . that you've hooked up that very same
General Kenobi with your bubblehead boss?"
"Yup. He should be having a word with her in, oh,
forty minutes or so."
". . . that your lovely Lieutenant Zandru is a
*Jedi* who actually drew up the specifications for the
new laser cannons we have on board?"
"Also true. He showed me the designs."
". . . that he made you Mykellian Breakfast tea?"
"The finest--with sugar and just a little cream."
". . . and that he now knows all your business
because you sat up all night talking?!" Elsah is
incredulous.
"Well, he demanded my life story. What was I
supposed to do? I told him a few choice stories from
our training on Corellia." You shoot Elsah a wicked
grin.
"Well, what about the important stuff?" she
demands.
"But I thought that was--"
"Did Zandru show you the gentle touch necessary to
handle a laser cannon?" Elsah waggles her eyebrows.
"No, but, since he's a Jedi, he showed me his
lightsabre."
Elsah nearly falls into her stew. "AND?"
"It's about thirty centimeters long . . ."
Elsah howls.
"And it's got the most fantastic blade. It's
almost the same color as his eyes."

FIN
*******
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