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Hands clasped behind his back, Thrawn peered at the button captains pressed whenever they wanted to communicate to all their crew. It wasn’t often that he personally made an announcement to the entire ship. That the announcement would be something so controversial happened even more rarely. With one last self-soothing squeeze of his own hands, he untangled them from behind him, and pressed the button.
“This is Admiral Thrawn with a message to all crew members on the Chimaera,” he spoke into the microphone. “As of this morning all caf machines have been replaced with their automated, much faster versions, as per newest Imperial protocol.”
He could hear his own voice booming through the hallways as he spoke. It irked him. For all the confidence his posture normally exuded, Thrawn really hated having to make those messages.
“I advise you all to nonetheless proceed carefully with the drinks, and remember to not let them affect your work or private life,” he added, some of his sternness seeping back into his tone, “Thrawn out.”
“Remember to not let them affect your work or private life,” Faro parroted as she and Vanto waited on the line for the new machines. The announcement had caused quite the stir, it seemed. Even crew members who normally never drank caf were now walking around with the biggest caf cups they could find, praising the new machines up and down.
Eli shrugged. “You know how he is.”
“He’s talking like we’re some children!” Faro cried out, “I’m a Force damned adult - if I want to drink seven cups of caf a day, it’s my effing right. Besides, it’s not like he’s not playing a role in the caf consumption!”
She had a point, Eli supposed. She also had a tendency to occasionally get reasonably worked up over things he’d simply come to accept about Thrawn. As he took his cup of caf and pushed it to his face though, all thoughts of Faro disappeared.
Eli’s eyes widened as the first drops of caf hit his tongue. It was delicious.
“That good?” Faro asked, looking down at her own freshly brewed cup.
“That good.”
It was all the reassurance she needed before downing it. “ Oh. ”
“Commander Vanto, this is unhealthy.”
Eli looked up at him from over the fifteen cups he was trying to balance on a tray. “They’re not all for me, I promise! Karyn is having some too!”
“Nonetheless, this amount of caf is likely to lead to health issues for any human specimen.”
“Oh, come on, sir, we’re grown-ups.”
Thrawn stared down at him. When he spoke next, there was an obvious distaste in his voice, “Just try and make sure you’re still able to go to bed at some point, Commander.”
Eli scoffed. If Thrawn could play the game, he could, too. “Of course, Admiral,” he said, using the most angelic sounding voice he could muster up. “Your bed or mine tonight?” In response, Thrawn simply raised an eyebrow.
Even in his worst nightmares, the spread of caf didn’t happen as quickly.
The youngest officers were hit the worst. Still clinging to the habits they had built in the Academy, they jumped at the opportunity to get as much caf in their system as possible. Luckily, they were also the easiest to manage. One walk down the corridor to where they’d gathered up was enough to get them moving in all sorts of directions.
That was another thing that bothered him, too. Whenever Thrawn tried to exit his office he’d stumble upon a huge queue leading up to the nearest caf machine. He knew something had to be done, Imperial protocol be damned.
“Commander Vanto,” Thrawn spoke for what must have been the nth time. It was rare that his friend’s antics got on his nerves. “Eli!”
A groan was all he got in response.
“Eli, how long has it been since you last slept?”
“Hmm…”
“Fine, I’ll rephrase it. Have you slept at all since the new caf machines came?”
That seemed to get things working in the other man’s brain. “The caf machines weren’t working this afternoon!”
“Yes, they no longer will work in the afternoon. Officers who work the graveyard shift will be supplied with their own caf.”
Eli wanted to protest, but all his arguments died down as Thrawn ran his fingers through his hair. “Now, why don’t we work on getting you to bed?”
Eli woke up to the worst headache of his life, a feeling of nausea, and the pleasant smell of caf.
“Ughh…”
“Yes, ughh,” Thrawn repeated. “This is what happens when you don’t sleep for a week.”
“I may have overdone it,” Eli admitted, a warm blush spreading on his cheeks. “I was getting so much work done though! And it tasted so nice!”
“Indeed.” Just as Eli was about to reply, he heard a small slurp. He looked up at Thrawn, sipping from a cup. A cup that mysteriously looked like the ones from the caf machines.
“Hey, that’s not fair!”
The man took another sip and sighed, pleased. “I wanted to check for myself what, as you would say, all that craze is about. It does taste decently, I’ll admit.” He took a third, awfully demonstrative sip in front of Eli’s gaping eyes.