Work Text:
Cody follows his nose through the crowded streets, there's a smell, utterly irresistible, of roasting caff. It's divine. So much better than the cheap osik they get on the Negotiator. It doesn't matter how often Boil tells him that isn't what ground caff means, he's still one hundred percent certain that the GAR caff is just mud with added stimulants.
Not that it matters to Cody. They can prise his stimulant mud from his cold dead hands.
He eventually tracks down the source of the deliciousness, coming to a stop outside a small caff shop and looks up at the sign. It just says 'Oridush' in copper lettering on a black background. He bites back an amused huff.
"O-ree-doosh." Wooley sounds out slowly under his breath. "Big bad?"
"Evil." Cody confirms. He didn't know Wooley was learning Mandoa.
"Do you think that's a name or a description?" Wooley asks curiously.
Cody cocks his head a little, it should be easy enough to find out. He pushes open the door. Inside is softly lit, dark walls and copper furnishings. As they enter a bell jingles at a pitch that has his shoulders tightening, and in the shadows behind the counter two glowing golden eyes burn through the darkness.
It's impressively dramatic. Cody wonders if they do lessons.
A Sith steps out of the shadows, the darkness clinging to him like it's reluctant to let go. In the corner of his eye, he sees Wooley's hand twitch slightly towards his blaster before he controls the movement. Cody studies the apron the Sith is wearing over his black robes. It's copper coloured, like everything else in the shop, and also the Sith's hair. His extremely pretty hair, and tidy little beard. It has "Darth Oridush Caff" written across the front and a stain, that to Cody's experienced eye looks much more like blood than caff.
The Sith doesn't seem to be immediately attacking them, so Cody looks up at the menu pinned above the counter. He wants that caff dammit, and if he has to buy it from a Sith then that's the Jedi's fault for refusing to drink anything other than tea. If Jedi made caff, then Cody would buy it from them. But they don't. So here he is.
He feels his eyebrows rise as he takes in what's written. It's ridiculously overpriced. He doesn't know what else he expected from a Sith.
"Description." He grumbles quietly to Wooley, in answer to his previous question. It might be written as his name on his apron, but charging that much for something essential to sustain life is pure evil.
"Can I help you, gentlemen?" The Sith asks. It's the first time Cody's been referred to as a gentleman. He's pretty sure it's not an accurate description. In Pond's novels, gentlemen have credits, lounge around all day being attractive and useless, and are occasionally spies. Cody is none of the above. "I'm afraid we're out of blue milk." The Sith behind the counter continues, "And sugar. I can offer you sweetener, but I'm sorry to say they have somewhat of a chemical aftertaste. I'm not at all sure I'd recommend it."
"Sir," Wooley asks, adorable confused tooka eyes on full display. Cody settles in to let him work his magic. "Can I ask a question?"
"Of course my dear, what would you like to know?"
"Are you a Sith Sir?"
The Sith hums, readjusting his black robes and fluttering his eyelashes over golden eyes. "What gave it away?"
Cody's lips twitch without his permission. Unacceptable. Sith are not supposed to be funny. He's pretty sure they're not supposed to run caff shops either, but this one seems to be doing that.
Talking of caff...
"Could I have an extra large caff please, Sir. Black and unsweetened."
The Sith looks at him askance.
"Are you sure?"
If that's what's making that delicious smell, then Cody is extremely sure.
"Should I not be?" He asks, mildly curious.
The Sith just raises his eyebrows sceptically.
"Your funeral, Commander."
Which could mean any number of things.
"Is it poisoned?" Cody checks. It's nice of the Sith to warn him if so.
"Oh not at all." The Sith waves the idea off with an absent hand and a conspiratorial smirk thrown over his shoulder as he turns to start making the caff. "There really wouldn't be any point to killing my clientele now, would there."
"You're... not a very good Sith," Wooley suggests hesitantly, "are you, Sir?"
In Cody's experience, Sith have two settings. Monologue and violence. So far, this Sith has attempted neither.
Instead of being offended, the Sith just blinks at him with the beginnings of a smirk, while behind him strange machines with lots of dials start making weird hissing sounds.
"My dear, I do believe that's rather the point."
Wooley huffs.
"I mean, you're a bad Sith."
"Why thank you." The Sith accepts his deliberately misunderstood praise with grace, sending the briefest flash of a highly amused glance to Cody.
"I thought Sith were supposed to be all about evil and suffering, Sir?" Wooly presses, confused tooka eyes firmly in place again.
The Sith looks at them, patient, as if the answer should be obvious.
"My dear, I run a caff shop. I am spreading evil and suffering."
And now Cody's lost. He doesn't understand -
The Sith hands him a giant mug of caff. It's bigger than his head. It's perfect. And the steam rising off it is the best thing he's ever experienced.
"But some people enjoy caff, Sir?" Wooley points out, confused. "Aren't you giving them pleasure?"
"Not at these prices." The Sith says, absolutely unashamed. "Also, I refuse to believe that anyone actually enjoys caff. It's a physical impossibility."
Cody clutches the giant mug of goodness closer to him, eyes falling shut in bliss. The warmth of it leeches slowly into his hands, and he's reasonably sure the magic bean juice is seeping into his bloodstream just through proximity.
"I'm pretty sure the Commander enjoys caff, Sir." Wooley points out. Not inaccurately.
Cody opens his eyes again in time to see the Sith raise his eyebrows and study Cody and his beautiful caff bucket with sceptical amusement.
"Then he must be truly incomprehensibly evil. It's the only explanation I'm afraid."
Wooley pauses, then makes an agreeing little hum of understanding.
Rude.
"Do you enjoy caff Sir?" Cody asks.
The Sith looks genuinely disgusted.
"Not at all. It's a vile substance."
"You don't drink it?"
"Force no. Nowhere does it say Sith have to encourage their own suffering." The Sith's lips twitch in amusement. "Only the suffering of others."
Unfortunately, Marshal Commanders are not supposed to giggle, so Cody has to squash the urge. The Sith still glances at him, with just the beginning of a smug smirk, as if he knows. Kriffing force osik.
"What about the delicious looking cakes, Sir?" Cody nods towards the line of plates on the counter. "Are they evil?" He's a little curious as to how the Sith thinks cake can cause suffering.
The Sith lights up.
"Ah, yes, one of my more ingenious plots. You see, the cakes only look delicious. Inside, they're quite dry, and I'm afraid rather bland. They're also about sixty percent icing, which is frankly disgustingly sweet and extremely artificial. Each slice is a perfect exercise in disappointment."
Cody cannot keep the smile from his face. This is definitely his favourite Sith. He wants to keep him.
"And the cookies, Sir?" Wooley asks, all bright curiosity.
"My dear," the Sith drawls happily, "the dark side always has cookies."
"Oat and raisin?" Cody guesses. He's never had one personally, but the holonet seems to think they're the worst.
The Sith hisses in a breath, clutching a hand to his heart.
"My dear, I'll have you know that dark side cookies are delicious. How else are we to seduce people?"
Cody hums. "To your side, or in general, Sir?" He asks, keeping his tone absolutely professional.
A slow smile spreads across the Sith's face.
"Now my dear, that would be telling." He leans forwards a little, forearms braced on the countertop. "Would you like to know a secret?"
Cody settles into his most unimpressed look.
"Dark side cookies are free." The Sith stage whispers.
"Oooh!" Wooley squeals, darting forwards between them and snatching one up off the plate. "Thank you Sir!"
If Cody dies in a Sith caff shop, it'll be from trying not to laugh.
"What about galactic domination, Sir?" Wooley asks, once he's carefully chewed a mouthful of cookie. He sounds concerned. "Are you going to be able to do that from a caff shop?"
The Sith sniffs, offended, but the amusement doesn't leave his eyes.
"I'm currently responsible for about ten percent of all caff sales in this sector, and I also do mail order." He looks at them with something a little too mock-stern to be a pout. "I'll have you know, I'm making decent headway towards that goal. Unfortunately, the force is rather limited in terms of monetary funds. I don't get paid a single credit merely for being a Sith, so I've had to work on dominating the galactic market the hard way. You'll note that most of the more successful Sith are those with inherited generational wealth. Seeing as how my parents did their best to drown me as a baby, I'm afraid that option was rather unavailable to me. I have some savings now, but sadly not yet enough for an ominous castle surrounded by a moat of lava."
"I imagine they don't come up on Sprightmove very often, Sir." Cody comments.
"Unfortunately not." The Sith agrees sadly. "I may end up having to build my own." He hums thoughtfully, struck by an idea, and strokes his beard. "I wonder how much I could get if I was on an episode of Space Grand Designs."
That is something Cody would absolutely watch. The host's face as he wanders around a half-built evil lair, nodding sympathetically at an unforseen rise in the price of lava eating into the Sith's budget, skeptically raising his eyebrows at the decision to have the dungeons south-facing, the Sith living in a caravan on-site while he project manages. Beautiful entertainment.
"I'd watch that, Sir!" Wooley chirps.
Cody lifts his magic mug of caffy goodness and takes a careful sip. He is extremely certain that this is not mud. It's entirely different from the GAR osik. It must be made of pure force magic. It's the only explanation for something tasting so good.
"Do you have a subscription service?" Cody asks. He needs this caff all the time, everywhere.
"Oh, that is a genius idea, thank you my dear."
Which, actually, now he thinks about it -
"Sir? Would you mind if I sent your details to my brother Fox? He's Commander of the Coruscant Guard. The whole Guard are particularly evil and apparently run solely off caff."
The Sith cocks his head.
"You mentioned that the clones don't get paid, Commander?"
"Fox would never let that stop him, Sir. The Guard have access to Senate resources."
Not legally, but Fox is one of the better of them at working around the regulations when necessary. Or being exceptionally good at covering his tracks. One or the other.
"Oh, I see. Yes, the Senate is a hive of scum and villainy, if there's a concentration of evil anywhere in the Galaxy then that's where it will be." The Sith thoughtfully strokes his beard. "Hmm. Official caff supplier of the Coruscant Guard. Do you know, I would be delighted."
---
"Commander?" Wooley asks once they're a few streets away from the Sith's caff shop.
Cody hums in query and takes another mouthful of delicious, delicious bean juice.
"Did you... pay for that caff?"
"Nope." Cody confirms.
"Sir, did you deliberately distract the Sith from charging you by flirting with him?"
Cody puts on his most professional face.
"What's form 4218b?" Teaching is always important.
"Commandeering of civilian resources in an emergency, Sir." Wooley reels off. Then pauses. "That counts as an emergency, Sir? Oh, wait, no, I know this one. Regs 472 Definition of an Emergency, Section 4, subsection 12 part b, sub part iii) The presence of a dark-side force user who follows the philosophy of the sect commonly referred to as 'Sith'." Wooley frowns in thought. "But how did we know what his philos- oh. He confirmed he was trying to spread evil and suffering, and achieve galactic domination. I see, Sir." Wooley chuckles. "I was just operating on finding out as much about a potential threat as possible, I hadn't realised I was saving you the job, Sir."
"It was good work, Wooley."
"Thanks Sir!"
Cody hadn't expected that combination of rules to come in handy, but as long as he fills the right forms in, he can legally steal things if in the presence of a Sith. Things like giant buckets of the most amazing super delicious bean juice.
Besides, given the side of the war they're on, it's practically Cody's duty to steal caff from Sith. And it's not as if the Sith wasn't attempting to rob them with those prices. Cody's just better at it.
---
"Ah, there you are."
Cody pauses and looks up. That's his caff Sith. In the middle of a forest Cody's infiltrating on the opposite side of the Galaxy to his shop.
"Do you mind if I just-" he says, and pale, gentle fingertips delicately brush across Cody's temples. There's a brief awful sensation of something inside his own head snapping, a strange grating shudder.
"Sir?"
"Your Commander Fox had something in his head that was mind controlling him."
Cody's blood freezes.
"Don't worry, my dear," his Sith reassures gently, "I broke it. After meeting you, I figured he'd be much more capable of evil if he was in his own mind." Accurate, but Cody's still deciding whether he should be offended or not when his Sith continues "A good call as it turns out as he immediately went and killed the Chancellor." That does sound like Fox. "But I thought I'd just come and check that it couldn't happen to you as well. I can't lose such a delightfully evil customer like that. You're much more interesting as you are."
Cody's going to kiss him.
Not now, not in the middle of a campaign when he's covered in mud and has men to look out for. But later. When they're safe and he doesn't have responsibilities. He's going to slide his hands round his Sith's neck, gently pull his head down, and press a kiss into his forehead.
There's a hint of red on pale cheekbones, something horribly soft in gold eyes.
"I do look forward to seeing you again, Commander." His Sith murmurs, and fades back into the shadows.
They should be able to get this war sorted with the Chancellor dead. Now that they don't have to contend with his utter lack of tactical sense and awful intel. It shouldn't be too long before Cody can go back to his favourite caff shop.
