First Star Wars fic. Please be gentle.

'Man, how I hate these things...!' I said to myself for the umpteeth time.

I'm not a happy Jedi Master at the moment. I don't care if I sound like a whiner. I have a right to whine, too. I'm only human. For pittin's sake, I have just arrived from some stupid mission a todler'd have been able to handle. I mean, the NRI must be pretty desperate or pretty short of personnel. Next thing, I will be helping old ladies into their speeders or running after teen shoplifters.

And then this. Instead of allowing me some rest (I wouldn't even dare say it's well-deserved, but is nonetheless needed), Leia wants to drag me to some sort of party. And it's not just some party. Oh, no, that would have been too simple. We have to be disguised. And no, I can't go disguised as a Jedi Master. Not even an apprentice. Dagnabbit! So since my wardrobe is kinda limited, care to guess what was my beloved sister's idea? Take me to a shopping trip!

Sometimes I would like to hate my sister. I mean, she's my sister, yeah, I love her, I guess she loves me in her own way too, but that doesn't give her the right to boss me around like a pet. She has Han just for that, for Force's sake! She bosses the Senate, too. Doesn't she have enough? Why does she have to tie me to a leash too? And she has the nerve to ask me why I don't come to Coruscant more often... As if!

So I've been fuming for the last three hours. Three hours! Three hours I could have spent doing... dunno, something! Ligthsaber drills, messing with my X-wing, hang around with the Rogues... Scratch that, last time I went to their HQ, they were bemoaning their married lives and retelling their oh-so-many-conquests in the love-field... and then tried to get me hitched. I consider them my friends and here they were trying to play matchmakers too. Talk about backstabbing...

'S not like I don't want a family... but I certainly would like to have the chance to choose my bride! I don't want no highstring aristocrat and I certainly don't want some giggling, more-curves-than-brains chick. What I want is... (sigh) I wish I knew.

I glance at the mirror while I finish buttoning up the damn disguise. What I'm supposed to look like, I don't even want to know. My guess is some kind of high dignatary from some Core World with a strange fashion sense. I mean, I have to wear make up! Purple and green, to boot. And fake, 6-inch nails... eek.

I'm pouting. My lips are so scrunched that I look like a female Rodian, too. My, do I look ridiculous! That rises the first real smile of the day. Who I'm a kidding? I don't want to wear this! I'm just some farmboy from a tenth-rate dustball of a planet, not a diplomat. And I don't want to look like one. Having to deal with luxury, pomp... just makes me wish I was back on Tatooine.

Speaking of which... forget the diplomat. I know what I'll be wearing to the party. I'm dying to see my sister's face.

Priceless. The look on her face when she saw me wearing my old farm clothes was just priceless. Pity it was already late and the hall was stuffed with people, but her mental screech managed to defean me for a few minutes. At least Han congratulated me on my choice and even Chewbacca gave me a hearty hug and ruffled my hair, just like some 20 years ago. Twenty years already. Don't know if I should be happy so many years are gone by. I still feel like some wet-behind-the ears kid. Well, time to mingle...

I've been here for over two hours and Leia's been parading me from one female to another. Has she got some kind of radar for single-and-looking women or something? Or does she have all this set up? Do they have a code to let my sister know they're interested?

It must be the farmboy in me, but I just can't get any pleasentries out of my mouth. And someone even dares say I'm into my role! I should ask Jade about that laser-glare she does. It would be a great help. Hell, SHE would be a great help. At least, we could talk about something interesting. But she's not planetside or at least, she wasn't when I last checked, just before coming to the party. I know, I must be pouting again. So sue me!

I glance around, bored out of my skull. I get enough of politics from my sister and while listening to Karrde's and Booster's smuggling ventures is nice for a while, it gets kinda tiring after a bit. I have a look at the other guests. Just what exactly is this, a celebration or some sort of 'i'm richer-than-thou' parade? Looks like Chewbacca and me are the only one with a normal-looking, day-to-day life appearance. Heck, even Solo is posing as a prince!

And then, the comments... '...so humble...', '... only Jedi Master alive...', '...Rebellion hero...'. I mean, don't they ever get tired? I'm beginning to think that my farmboy attire is not such a good idea, if they're talking about me stepping down from my pedestal and debase myself to wear these rags like I was some saint. I swear, with so many people trying to bootlick at me, I could have the shiniest black boots in the whole universe.

I salute Borks Fe'yla. Good old Fe'yla. At last, someone I can trust not to like me, praise me or in general, suffocate me. His despise towards me and the Jedi in general is almost welcome in this atmosphere. Together with Han and Mara, they're the only sane people in the galaxy. Mara, where are you?

'PLEASE! Somebody, help me! Shoot me! Torture me! Turn me to the Dark Side! Anything but having me caged like this...!' I'd wish some Force-sensitive was around and could hear me. I know my dear sister won't relent and let me fly from this damned place, not unless she sees me leaving with a female partner... Lately, she is not even subtle about that. So I'm in my late thirties and still single. So what?

And Horn... Where's he? I could certainly use some help... I'd settle for some simpathy. Or maybe he would enjoy watching me squirm under the hell Leia puts me thru just to get back at me for pestering about his training.

'Help...!'

I can't even count on Han. He says he's tired to haul my butt out of these messes... the nerf-brained, son of a bantha... and he's even making suggestions as to whom I should get introduced. Next time I get my hands on C-3PO, I'll make sure to add some hyper-annoying speech command in his programme. And no, this is not the Dark Side speaking. This is about justice. I mean, I didn't even have a say in whom my sister should be married to, how come they can tell me who I should dance or talk with, least of all bed?

I'm considering getting drunk. As in seriously, coma-like sloshed. Bet I wouldn't make engagement material like that. I scan the room, looking for some Whyren Reserve. Two shots, I will be down and my dear sister will deem it necessary to bring me home before I make a complete and utter fool of myself. At least, I can count on her for that. She will be bitching me tomorrow, but that will be fine. She shouldn't have get me here in the first place!

I get my hands on a bottle and a glass and help myself to a nice long drink. I retire to an obscure corner, well, as obscure as midday on Tatooine, but at least there's no one around. I sip my drink, just to get reacquainted with the taste... Bad idea. I should have just swallowed the whole thing. Bleh! Now I remember one of the many reasons why I don't drink. I just hate that dry, burning sensation down my throat and stomach.

I drop onto a sofa, my legs dangling over one arm, and close my eyes, wishing for sleep to come and take me. Pity it's so noisy in here. And I don't think I'm calm enough to fall in a force-induced sleep. Swell.

'Help...?'

There's a huge uproar in the crowd. I wonder what happens, but I'm not sure I want to bother to open my eyes, not yet. There's a few laughs, screams, insults even, but most of all, there's a lot of unfocused anger around, it's really unsettling. When I finally decide to investigate, I watch absolutely astounded a stormtrooper walking through the room. In my direction. And he stops just a few steps before me, blaster in hand. I think my jaw just hit the floor. Someone really has some nerve...

And then, the weirdest thing... the imp takes his helmet, revealing a red-gold mane, ruby lips and jade eyes.

"Hi. I'm Mara Jade. I'm here to rescue you."

And then the evening doesn't suddenly look so bleak.