A/N: This piece is dedicated to Urotnik, who gave me the idea for this after my excited ramble of books I had got led to some confusion as to which books I was referring to that would help me write fan fic… and the idea of Imperial cooking lessons was sprung. It was just too goofy and fun to leave alone, so I wrote it. :)

Tarkin sputtered in surprise at the admission he had just heard from his mistress. He admired her spirit and independence… but how in the galaxy could one be truly independent without such an essential skill. "How can you not know how to cook? I mean, what do you live on?" he asked. Daala shrugged lightly.

"I lived in an orphanage, then the Academy. Meals were always prepared. Where would I have learned?" she asked, her tone mildly annoyed. Tarkin sighed.

"I suppose that's fair, but the Academy should teach cadets these things." he said.

"Perhaps." Daala admitted "But I've never met anyone in the Empire besides you who knows how to cook. Everyone relies on ready meals or droids." she said. "I mean… I know how to boil topatoes… but that's about as far as my knowledge goes."

"Surely that can't be the case." Tarkin said. "I know for a fact his Majesty when time permits is a fine baker." Daala raised an eyebrow at that.

"The Emperor… bakes?" she asked surprised. "Well I suppose to be fair I don't know him very much at all. Certainly not like you do. I imagine much of his baking was done before he became Emperor, correct?" Daala inquired and Tarkin nodded. "I figured as much."

"Still surely there must be others." Tarkin said, giving the roasted root veggies a stir and checking on the roasting nerf steaks, before turning his focus back onto the curry sauce he was making for it.

"None of which I know of. Certainly can you imagine Ysanne Isard trying to cook? She'd probably get mad over the smallest issue with a recipe then burn down the kitchen in spite." Daala snorted at the mental image.

"Now now, that's exaggerating." Tarkin chided, but a small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "Well if what you say is true, we shall have to remedy this… starting with you my dear."

"Me? You want me to cook?" she asked, mildly alarmed.

"Come now, it's not hard. After dinner I will teach you how to make a simple desert for us." Tarkin said and Daala eyed him skeptically. "After that we shall set course for Coruscant and confirm your suspicions. If they are indeed true, then we shall teach others."

"I've got a bad feeling about this." Daala sighed.

After their meal was finished, Daala hung back hesitantly. It wasn't that she was afraid of cooking… she just knew she would fail this task miserably. Her jokes about Isard aside, she knew her own temper was not much better. Her penchant for violence was what got her kicked out of the stormtrooper corps after all. Still she could not deny her lover as he motioned her into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath she followed. How bad could this be really? Cooking topatoes in the Academy kitchen hadn't been that hard… and Tarkin certainly made it seem easy enough. "Alright what am I doing?" she asked resigned. Tarkin indicated to a recipe on a data pad.

"We will be making cheffa cake." he said.

"That sounds… complicated." Daala sighed.

"Just follow instructions my dear and you will do fine." Tarkin instructed. "Now, this is a measuring cup." he said, handing her a cup marked with lines. "Use this to measure the correct amount of each ingredient into the bowl." he said. Daala frowned but did as she was told. "Now simply stir it until it is smooth, pour into the pan there after proofing it and place it in the cook unit at the correct temperature." Tarkin said. At that moment his comm began to beep. "You can manage the rest on your own, right my dear?" he asked and Daala nodded, not letting her uncertainly show. As he walked away it occurred to her she had no idea what he meant by proofing the pan. No matter, it didn't seem that important. Pouring the batter into the pan she eyed the recipe and set the cooker to the correct temperature. There that wasn't so hard. Nothing to it. She tried to figure out how to set a timer, but decided she would remember to retrieve the cake in the appropriate time and it wasn't worth the hassle. As Tarkin made his way back into the kitchen Daala smiled.

"Now we just wait while it cooks right?" she asked. Tarkin nodded.

"That's right." he said, pleased his instruction was going so well.

"So while we wait…" Daala said allowing her voice to trail off suggestively. Tarkin laughed appreciatively and gathered her into his arms.

"Just so." he said.

Daala was sprawled out contentedly when her bliss was disturbed by an acrid smell filling the air, and she noticed a slight haze to the air. Springing to alertness she cursed "Oh shavit!" as she flew towards the kitchen, Tarkin close on her heels.

"Why did the timer not go off?" he asked as Daala retrieved a slightly blackened cake from the cooker.

"I didn't set one…" Daala admitted "I thought I would remember, but then we… well it was rather distracting." she said.

"I see." Tarkin said eying the cake "Well we should be able to cut off the burnt sections and eat the rest." He assured her. As he tried to pry the cake from the pan he sighed "Are you sure you proofed the whole pan?" he asked. Daala looked down at her feet.

"I didn't know what proofing meant… so I didn't do it." she admitted. Abruptly the cake fell from the pan, leaving half of it behind, onto the waiting plate.

"Well, it's not bad for a first attempt." Tarkin said. "Perhaps I ought to enlist His Majesty's expertise in this matter." he said. Daala's eyes widened at that.

"Surely he is a busy man with more pressing matters." she said.

"What could be more pressing than ensuring those who help run the Empire have essential skills?" Tarkin countered. "We shall set our course for Coruscant, and I shall bring this matter to the Emperor's attention." he said, dressing and making his way towards the bridge.

Arriving on Imperial Centre, Tarkin made his way towards the Palace, with Daala following anxiously on his heels. She still had her doubts this was a good idea, or important enough to trouble the Emperor himself with, but Tarkin would not be swayed. Unlike many, he seemed not to fear the Emperor. Perhaps it was simple familiarity, but Daala was discomforted by his boldness in this case none the less. As they approached the Throne room doors, Tarkin inclined his head to one of the silent imposing Royal Guards. "I wish to speak with His Majesty about an issue which has come to my attention." he said. The guard stared at him silently for a moment then motioned them into the Throne room. Tarkin dropped into a bow and Daala followed suite.

"Rise." the Emperor commanded "What brings you here?" he inquired. His tone was friendly enough, but something about him still chilled Daala to the bone. Her lover appeared unaffected however.

"My protoge has brought to my attention a lack of any real culinary training within the Academy. How are our troops to win this war if they don't even know how to feed themselves without a mess hall handy?" Tarkin explained. Palpatine paused in thought for a moment.

"What would you have me do about it?" he asked, leaning back in the throne.

"Have a basic cooking program implemented in the Academy.. and perhaps ensure all of those within the upper ranks are able to as well… so the cadets do not feel we are being unfair." Tarkin said and Palpatine nodded.

"A wise plan. I know some within my ranks have such skills as I trained them to survive anything. I shall enquire among the rest." he said. Turning his focus on Daala he enquired "I presume you are receiving training now?" he asked.

"Yes Majesty." she said.

"Very good." Palpatine said. Turning his focus once again on Tarkin he said "We shall reconvene on this matter once I have spoken to those around me."

"As you wish Sire." Tarkin said, giving a bow before he left the room.

Lying sprawled across the black satin sheets, Ysanne Isard regarded her lover with a confused expression. What the kriff had got into him? Did he think her some simple domestic? She was utterly baffled by his question. "Do I what?" she asked.

"Cook Ysanne, it's a simple question." Palpatine responded a tad tersely.

"Of course not. Why would I waste my time with such menial pursuits?" she asked annoyed, rolling onto her belly and propping her head in her hands to fix him with a sharp glare from her mismatched eyes.

"Knowing the basics at least is an essential skill, especially in this time of war. If you wish to rely on droids after you learn how, so be it… but you will learn." Palpatine commanded.

"And I suppose you mean to tell me you cook?" Isard asked irritably.

"I seldom have time for it anymore, but yes I know how." Palpatine responded calmly, not rising to Isard's baiting. That quickly took the wind from her sails.

"I can't say I ever imagined you in such… domestic pursuits." Isard admitted, genuinely surprised. "I suppose I can learn if you are the one who will be teaching me." she said more agreeably.

"I will be enlisting the help of a few others to broaden the skill base, but yes, I shall be instructing you." Palpatine confirmed.

"Who else?" Isard asked warily. She had a suspicion she would not like this part of things.

"Grand Moff Tarkin who brought this issue to my attention in the first place, Mara Jade and perhaps a few others once I learn who can and can not cook within the Palace." Palpatine said, observing her reaction and how her face fell at the mention of Mara Jade. The two had taken an instant dislike of each other. Certainly this lesson would prove entertaining if nothing else.

"Why her?" Isard asked disdainfully.

"Because I know she is skilled in cooking with anything." Palpatine explained.

"And just where would she gain such skills?" Isard asked sharply. Palpatine shrugged.

"It matters not where she gained them. Only that she possesses such skill." he said.

"I beg to differ Sire." Isard responded, but he would not engage her. Instead he stood and collected his robes, dressing and ignoring her. "Sire?" she repeated questioningly.

"Get dressed Ysanne. I will summon you when a time has been arranged." he responded coolly, walking from the room and leaving her to her own devices.

Mara gave a long suffering glare to Roganda Ismaren, which the other woman met with an all too sweet smile. "You don't look dressed for joining the lesson. Not unless you want to ruin that pretty dress." Mara commented.

"Ha, I won't be joining your stupid little lesson. I already know all this and then some." Roganda responded haughtily.

"Then I presume you are instructing along with me?" Mara responded.

"Hardly." Roganda said. "No I am neither participating nor instructing. His Majesty has excepted me from this." Roganda said. Mara rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath.

"Wonder why." she grumbled to herself.

"What was that Jade?" Roganda asked annoyed, having heard Mara's little barb.

"Just wondering how much-" Mara broke off her comment but the implication was there "Forgive me, that was rude. I was just wondering how you managed to exempt yourself from this. You must have put an extra effort in today." she added smirking.

"How uncouth." Roganda commented disgusted and wandered off while Mara hooted with laughter. As Isard strode into the room Mara straightened her posture and quickly sobered her laughter, lest the Director assume it was aimed at her. Her quieting was not quick enough however.

"What's so funny Jade?" Isard snapped. Mara bowed her head in deference, even if she technically ranked above the Director. It was not worth provoking a fight over.

"Forgive me Madam Director. I was baiting Roganda a moment before you arrived. I was laughing at her discomfort and irritation with my words." Mara explained.

"Oh her." Isard said disgusted.

"I see we are of the same opinion on this matter." Mara commented.

"Apparently." Isard remarked, a slight smirk forming. Tarkin and Daala were the next to arrive, with Isard shooting the pair a disgusted look both for the impropriety of them being together so obviously in what was an affair, judging by the closeness with which they held themselves, and for starting this mess in the first place. Pestage entered shortly after, looking rather perturbed. Finally Palpatine himself entered the room, a Royal Guardsmen flanking him on either side. Reflexively everyone gathered dropped into a bow at his arrival, but he quickly gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Enough. Such formalities are uncalled for and will only cause inconvenience in this." he sighed and waited as the odd group gathered rose, no one quiet sure to respond. Mara seemed the most at ease, having been tutored under him in various areas already.

"What are we going to be teaching them how to make Sire?" Mara asked.

"Tonight I shall teach them how to make… cookies." Palpatine said.

"As you wish Sire." Mara said, hurrying to collect up the needed supplies from around the room. Once everything was gathered and set out across the counter, Mara shifted to give her Master the floor, slipping off to the corner of the room. In part she didn't want to get in his way, but she also wished to be out of strike range for when things inevitably went wrong.

"Now, this is what we will be making." Palpatine said, motioning to a data pad which Mara had prompted upright on the counter "And none of you shall leave here tonight until you have mastered this. Do I make myself clear?" he asked. Everyone expect the motionless guards nodded. Palpatine glared at them "That includes you two." he said. The pair each gave a single stoic nod of understanding. "Now we shall divide into groups to expedite this process. You Daala shall remain with Tarkin, who will also instruct one of the guards. Mara you will also instruct a guard alongside Pestage. Ysanne, I shall be teaching you."

"Yes my Lord." Isard said stepping forward, pleased at least it would not be Mara teaching her.

"Now just follow the directions here. You are capable of doing that much are you not Ysanne?" Palpatine asked. Isard glared but did not respond, as she glanced at the instructions. It seemed simple enough. Why the kriff he felt the need for this lesson was beyond her. Irritably she grabbed the supplies listed and began throwing them into a bowl half-heartedly, when she felt Palpatine's hand on her arm abruptly. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low with threat. Isard shrugged.

"Making these kriffing cookies, since it pleases you Sire." she responded irritably.

"Then do it right Ysanne." Palpatine snapped at her.

"What did I do wrong?" Isard asked, now baffled. She'd been following the directions as best she could tell. Pointing to the whole egg she had tossed in the bowl, Palpatine levitated it so it was back in her hand.

"You break that." he said frustrated. Isard shrugged and smashed the egg and dropped it shell and all into the bowl. "Not like that you kriffing moron!" he yelled losing his patience with her.

"Then how?" Isard snapped back annoyed.

"Remove that mess of an egg you made." Palpatine commanded, energy cracking between his fingers. Either she didn't notice or she didn't care, as she remained obstinate.

"No. This is stupid. The whole kriffing thing is stupid. When am I ever going to need this?" Isard grumbled.

"Still your tongue Ysanne." Palpatine warned. When Isard opened her mouth to protest further, she was rapidly silenced by a blast a force lightning. Everyone else in the room had frozen and stood watching. "Get back to work." Palpatine snapped at them. Turning to Isard who was just getting up from where the blast had knocked her he asked "Have you any further complaint Ysanne?" She bowed her head subdued.

"No my Lord." she said.

"Good, then let us continue." Palpatine said.

Several hours later after several burnt batches of cookies, and additional rounds of force lightning whenever someone failed or questioned the task, three trays of perfect Order 66 cookies lay cooling. Everyone was tired and more than a little on edge, but none dared voice any complaint anymore. Finally Isard broached the question everyone was thinking, but dared not ask. "Are we done now my Lord?" she asked, shooting a glare at everyone else.

"What? No, we need to decorate these." Palpatine said. Isard gave him an incredulous look, but shrugged.

"As you wish." she said. "Where do we start?" she asked. Palpatine pressed a tube of red gel into one of her hands and a container of black powder and a brush into her other.

"Use the powder to make the carbon scoring, and the gel for the blood." he instructed. Motioning the two Royal guards over he handed them similar supplies. "You two decorate as well." he ordered. The guards looked at each other for a moment before shrugging and taking the supplies, each grabbing a tray of cookies and began decorating. Observing Palpatine was pleased.

"You have done well my young apprentices." he commented, studying the finished cookies. "As this has taken far longer than I anticipated due to the incompetence of some of you, we shall continue our lessons in the morning. I shall not attend myself, but I will leave you in the capable hands of Grand Moff Tarkin and Mara Jade who shall teach you the rest of what you must learn." Palpatine said. "Guards, Ysanne, with me if you will. Mara I shall send you a note to your data pad of what I wish covered- you as well Tarkin. I expect any failures will be punished harshly. For now you are all dismissed." he said, exiting the room with the pair of guards falling into step along side him, Isard trailing behind. Glancing at her chrono, Mara made her way to her chambers. It was late and she had no doubt tomorrow would be an early and long day. As much as she preferred not to think on what went on in her Master's chambers at night with Isard, she could only hope he wore her out a bit so she wasn't quite so difficult to deal with.