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“Obi Wan!” Dex boomed the moment Obi Wan stepped through his door, the jingle of the bell announcing him. His friend looked positively gleeful as he came over to pull Obi Wan into a hug. “Just the being I was hoping to see! I have news you’re going to want to hear, and you aren’t going to hear it anywhere else.”
“Good to see you Dex.” Obi Wan wrapped his arms around Dex, and did his best to breathe through the massive hug. “Any news would be welcome.”
“I have important news, and then I have the tabloid gossip news piece of the century and no one is ever going to hear it.” Dex sighed dramatically, steering Obi Wan into a booth. “But first, what can I get you?”
Obi Wan gave Dex his order, and as he waited, being watching all the while, he wondered what had Dex so tickled.
“So,” Dex began, slid into the booth, placing Obi Wan’s food in front of him, “you probably heard Organa was here the other day, to get intel really, but they spun it for his image, to go with what he’s been doing in the Alderannian district.”
“I did.” Obi Wan said, tucking into his fries.
“He’s fine, one of the best of a bad lot. I don’t understand why we give so much of a shit about the Senate here on Coruscant, it’s not like they’re doing anything for us, it’s not planetary politics, but that’s besides the point,” Dex waved the tangent aside with one of his big hands, his distaste for politicians clear even in that simple gesture, and leaned in, “you’ll never guess which sleemo decided to try to pull a similar stunt.”
“Burtoni?” Obi Wan wryly named the Kaminoan senator, never seen outside of official Senate events.
“I wish.” Dex scoffed, “no, it was Palpatine, if you can believe it.”
Obi Wan almost couldn’t. Palpatine hadn’t tried to do a political stunt like that since before the war, one that showed him mingling with the common folk, carefully controlled things like riding the commuter trains.
“Really?” Obi Wan asked, leaning in. “I imagine it didn’t go well, or I would have heard about it.”
“Absolutely not. He does not know how restaurants work. At all. He tried to order a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich. With asfolel sauce.” Dex sounded scandalized, which was fair enough. Obi Wan was too.
“Asfolel?” He repeated, and Dex nodded.
“It goes at 1500 credits for ten millilitres! We’ve never had it on the menu. We’ve never had anything like what he wanted on the menu.” Obi Wan laughed aloud, which felt good, amused by the simple humour in this detachment from the ordinary life of billions of beings across the galaxy.
Their conversation turned to more serious topics, but Obi Wan held that joy in his heart through the whole day, and brought the image back to the cartoonists in his battalion, which they riffed on with glee.