Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.
Maia squinted. "Sorry, the Emperor wants what?"
The governor stalked over to her side, placing a hand to her shoulder. She chose not to shrug it off, glaring at her father.
"We've all known you and Bidor would make a perfect match. Since you were children."
"And since we were children, we've known that to be preposterous," she snapped back.
"You will not speak to me this way."
Maia narrowed her eyes and her father did the same, their expressions matching in silence. She broke off the eye contact first, pushing her back along the large, elaborate mirror propped up along the foyer wall. She scoffed, turning to shoot up the staircase.
"Be ready to leave by 1800," her father yelled after her, readjusting his rank plaques in the mirror.
"At least he's attractive."
Maia winced, holding the comm to her ear with her shoulder as she folded another sweater into her trunk. Her older cousin and best friend, Drea Motti sat patiently, watching Maia pack through the screen.
"Does it make you feel uncomfortable," Drea asked.
"No," Maia responded.
"Well. How does it make you feel?"
Maia closed her eyes tightly. She opened her mouth to respond, but flipped her head to the side as a knock resounded.
"Ms. Tarkin?"
Maia rolled her eyes. "Bag's not ready yet," she called out to the servant. She plopped down on her bed, rubbing her brow like an elder.
"How does it make you feel," Drea repeated.
"Force-I don't know, Drea Motti! Don't you have some pre-med thing to be doing?"
"This is more fun."
"Not really, no."
Drea laughed. "Maia, relax. You're on your way back to Alderaan, you'll be in Senator Organa's house again, you'll be back at university, and you'll be able to study philosophy to your heart's content. Don't pick fights with your father. And definitely not this fight. It's really not the time. The battle isn't with your dad, anyway."
"I really just think the Emperor should stop sticking his nose into everything in my life-oh, Drea, relax. Do you want me to-Hey, Imperial Security Bureau, it was a joke!"
"When's the date scheduled for," the older girl asked.
Maia shrugged. "This weekend?"
"You don't know?"
"Is this news? This doesn't seem like news. Our wonderful leader does what he wants. Not that I love him any less. I love him so much."
"Maia!" Her father's sharp call came from outside the door.
Maia rolled her eyes again. "I have to go."
"Try to ignore the fact that everyone in your family is a prodigy and be a normal sixteen year old."
"Normalcy for this family is landing ships on protestors and then toasting the Emperor with champagne. I think I'm screwed." She turned her head to the door as her father yelled for her again. "Bye, Dray. I'll talk to you later."
Maia folded the rest of her sweaters, gingerly placing them in the trunk and snapping it shut. She left, passing the trunk off to a servant and joining her parents in the speeder.
Maia nibbled the rest of her honeycrust as she and Bidor Ferrouz sat on a bench. She noticed Bidor glancing back at her every other moment, and nibbled and nibbled and nibbled, staring out at the wildflowers and hating the Emperor for making things so awkward with one of her closest friends.
The wind brushed her long red hair, sweeping it to-and-fro across her shoulders.
She felt Bidor's hand upon her shoulder and sighed and turned to look at him, but she didn't say anything.
"I had fun today," he ventured after a moment.
Maia blinked slowly. "I did too," she responded, staring straight ahead once more. She told the truth. He was her best friend, and she enjoyed spending time with him. But as a best friend.
Bidor smiled lightly, staring at her from the side. He leaned down, and his lips touched her cheek.
Maia pulled her head back, turning to look at him.
He looked back, and the pair stared at each other in silence.
Bidor grinned, and shook with laughter.
He stood, holding a hand out to her. "Come on. This is stupid. Let's go back to campus or something and call Drea."
Maia hesitated, blinking for a moment before smirking. She took his hand, jumping down from the bench, and they walked.
Drea looked up from her xenobiology book, grinning as her Holocomm buzzed. She accepted the call, sitting up at her desk. Her grin turned to a surprised laugh as she saw Maia and Bidor sitting beside each other atop Maia's bed.
"So, you two didn't have sex?"
Maia rolled her eyes. "If I weren't here, and you weren't there, I'd kill you and probably get away with it."
"Well, then, it's probably good that I'm here and you're there, isn't it?"
Maia layed down backwards, disappearing from Drea's view. Drea turned to Bidor.
"So, trying to be a xenopsychiatrist and all-it's not like this is my specialty or anything-Maia just disappeared, and I'm pretty sure that's impossible."
Bidor smirked, reaching back to pull Maia up.
Maia shoved some hair behind her ear, looking up at Drea defiantly.
"How'd you ever get out of these matchmakings?"
"You're far more attractive than I am. And we all know that philosophy is sexier than medicine." She rolled her eyes. "And there's the part with your dad being. Well. Your dad."
Maia shook her head. "Your dad is important too."
"I don't know. Lucky, I guess," Drea said.
Maia looked down, swallowing, and reaching up to sweep her hair back with one hand. "I'm done."
Bidor flicked her arm. "What does that mean?"
"It means I'm done."
"How will this translate practically?"
Maia tilted her head to the side, grinning with a silent shrug.
Sate Pestage dutifully observed the reception from a corner of the room. The chief of staff turned his head to Ars Dangor as he approached.
"What's his name," Pestage prompted, glancing at the grinning Tarkin girl across the room and her male companion.
"Merrick Jansen," the speechwriter provided, glancing along with the Grand Vizier at the teenaged couple.
"He's not one of ours."
"Right. His parents are lawyers on Alderaan. He turned nineteen two weeks ago, and he's a language major. Galactic Basic, High Galactic, Huttese, Rodese, probably others. They've been official for a little over a week, and they've been seeing each other for almost a month."
Pestage nodded along with Dangor's words, still staring at the teenagers.
"Did anyone know they were coming together," he asked. "It would appear not," Dangor replied.
"How did we miss this? She's a kriffing child." Pestage stared at Maia. Suddenly, she turned, subtly exchanging a glance with Pestage, before a fern green eye opened and closed in a wink.
Pestage chuckled, and Dangor tilted his head to the side, his arms crossed.
"Hm," the speechwriter commented. "It looks like Governor Tarkin's daughter is starting to grow up."
Pestage sat silently, still examining the girl. After a moment, he rose, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder and motioning to the winding hallway which would eventually reach the Emperor's quarters. The speechwriter followed without a word.