Pink Nails and Drinking Games
KnightedRogue
Chapter One
The purple eye make-up, I can handle.
The orange lipstick was distracting, but not terrible.
But those bright pink, gods-awful nails –
"Princess?"
Leia Organa quickly raised her eyes from the grotesque pink nails to the strange purple make-up and encountered a pair of bright blue eyes gazing her way. "Yes, Lieutenant Stribur?"
"What else do you wish to know about the geography?" Leia watched as orange lips pressed together, apparently waiting for some answer. What did she just say?
"Nothing. Let's move on. Economy, specifically the reliance upon munitions production."
The purple eye makeup focused on her for a minute longer, and then traveled down the row of chairs, halting for a microsecond on – who else? – Captain Han Solo, and proceeding through its entire audience, the orange lips moving beneath as the purple wandered.
Purple and orange? It's a wonder her uniform isn't red with blinking lights all around it. Leia sighed to herself as she realized what she was doing. Since Lieutenant Rimmas Stribur had stepped foot inside this base seven days ago, Leia had been appalled by her appearance. The intelligence officer was extremely young, Leia would estimate her to be no more than twenty years old and probably closer to sixteen or seventeen, and seemed to be, by physical standards alone, completely out of her realm.
And yet Leia couldn't help noticing that Stribur explicitly followed protocol, saluted appropriately, and was able to debrief her superiors very easily. When they pay attention, that is. She carried herself in an adult manner, could be quite mature. Nothing she did ever made her appear unfit for her position.
But her youthful trends were really starting to annoy Leia.
Five days ago, Leia had been collecting signatures for the various runs needed for Supply when she stumbled upon the crew of the Falcon, plus one colorful Intel agent, engaged in some kind of drinking game that involved spare hyperdrive parts and a collection of hair ribbons. Whatever it was they were doing, it came to a screeching halt when she arrived. It wasn't a screeching halt; it was an uncomfortable, awkward halt. She hadn't known what to do about the situation and had therefore initiated her weapon of choice – sarcasm.
"Hello, children," she had forced a smile. "Are we having fun before naptime?"
Predictably, it was Solo who answered. "Nah, Your Highness-ness, we're gonna skip naptime. You see, getting completely drunk is the goal today, and naps interfere with that."
Muttering some senseless comeback under her breath, she had retreated from the festive atmosphere. She wasn't exactly sure what had suddenly made her feel unbearably uncomfortable with the situation. She supposed it could have been the gaudy green bracelet the walking rainbow was wearing. She was definitely conscious of the very public display the drinking game had become. And she was absolutely certain she was not ruffled by the sight of Solo with another woman.
After three hours alone in her quarters, Leia had finally concluded that it was not simply bracelets or gawking pilots or even the thought of – whatever. It was her.
Leia was uncomfortable with the idea of youth.
She knew what it was, of course. Youth was an age glorified, the perfect symbol of vitality and carelessness. It was laughter and colorful makeup and idiotic drinking games. But Leia Organa, last surviving member of the Alderaanian Ruling House, skipped it somewhere along the line. She watched it through a window into a holofilm of actors pretending to experience it. That was as close as she was able to come. Because the Princess is a lady; courageous and strong; incapable of feeling emotion; inhuman.
Inhuman.
That was how Leia had felt at that moment in the hanger, datapad in hand, collecting signatures as a responsibility to the highly illegal and traitorous organization she had joined at the age of eighteen. She watched Solo and the orange/purple combo play the childish drinking game she assumed they had invented. She had witnessed this youthful display from both an adolescent and a thirty-something year old man: had seen, with her own eyes, what youth meant.
And had felt no inclination to join.
She had flown through a lifetime of inner battles and outward dangers without pausing to consider the consequences. Etiquette by eight, university by fourteen, Senate by seventeen, Imperial traitor and wanted criminal by eighteen. She had traveled the galaxy, had fought for her beliefs, killed for her sense of justice. She had been courted by royalty, presented to the Emperor himself, had owned her own quarters in the Senate wing of Imperial Palace. Experiences and accomplishments and honors that Solo and the underage Intel agent would never have.
And yet it all felt so useless now in an existence of ration bars, X-wing engine grease, and common soldier uniform. And bureaucratic nonsense, like inane meetings day and night –
Damn.
" – other than the University of Itets-Enuzore, which is located on the other side of the capital city. Any questions?" Stribur was stretching her blue gaze around the table, anchoring onto Leia's as she concluded her presentation.
"No, I think we have all the information we could possibly need, Lieutenant. Thank you for you thoroughness." Leia stood up and addressed the men and women surrounding the table. "This mission is scheduled to leave here by 0600 hours tomorrow. From there, Captain Solo will transport Lieutenant Stribur and me to Itets-Enuzore, then land and berth until I have met with the ammunitions boards and they have deliberated our proposal. Lieutenant Stribur will be resuming her post as a sleeper agent on Itets-Enuzore and begin her first term at the University. Once the proposal is either signed or rejected, Captain Solo will escort me back to base. Are the mission parameters clear?"
At the silent chorus of nods, Leia began to gather up her documents and tried to ease her way through the conference room into the hall without attracting too much attention. She had made it to the hallway outside the conference room door before she was hailed down. Turning around slowly, Leia called on every string of patience she had ever had to paste a diplomatic smile on her face. Can anything more go wrong?
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
The adolescent bowed her head. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Your Highness, but I was just – "
Leia sighed. "Leia."
Stribur looked confused. "Ma'am?"
Ma'am? Are you serious? Keeping her incredulity off her face, Leia nodded. "My name is Leia. What were you wondering?"
"Right, ah, Leia. You just looked a bit, I mean, you looked – "
Leia was still pondering what Stribur was trying to say when she noticed the lanky form of Captain Hans Solo amble up their way. Before she could register what she was doing, Leia's legs were propelling her down the hallway the opposite way from the Corellian. Immediately, Stribur turned and walked after her. "Ma'am?"
Stop it! "I have so much to do, yet, Lieutenant. Could you please hurry? I'm – "
"Hey, Your Worshipfulness! What're you running away from?"
You. Cringing visibly, Leia about faced and stuck a finger in Solo's chest. "Stop it." She jerked the finger in Stribur's general direction. "Both of you. Listen, I don't have time for your stupid name-calling games or your - " What has she ever done to me? " – your green bracelets andpink nails." Great job, Organa. That was brilliantly idiotic. "Leave me alone. I don't want to see either of you until 0600. If I do, I will personally kill both of you myself with the rustiest piece of scrap metal I can find. Got it?"
The silence seemed to last forever. Solo stood still looking at her with a tilt to his head as if he thought she might explode. Stribur's mouth was gaping and Leia thought she might actually be able to hear the gossip columns begin to run. Disgusted with herself more than with them, she turned away and began speeding back towards her office.
As she left, she thought she heard Han inquire about hair ribbons and almost screamed out loud.
All right, gang. Whadd'ya think?
KR