It is not enemy territory and yet her guard is up. This is unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and damned annoying. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror and is momentarily stunned. The air leaves her lungs as if she has been sucker punched. She honestly forgot how she looked.
Red dress, hair up in a not so fancy bun. She missed her uniform. She is an admiral damnit. She has no place here. She should have questioned her orders, demanded an explanation, and yet, she did not.
She shook such thoughts from her head. She will endure, she will survive.
She is the commanding officer of the Steadfast.
She's got this.
She can handle a stupid art reception. Besides, she is not alone.
"I don't get it." The Admiral turns to face Vah'nya, she makes a face, tilts her head to one side and another. She is still trying to understand the image before them.
It looks like random splotches of paint and a faded image of an unrecognizable animal.
"This is beyond my pay grade," Eli says, he does not "get" it either.
"Is it a mistake?" The Admiral speaks for the first time. The three tilt their heads and, "huh," in unison.
"I call this one," Eli says in an intense and serious voice mimicking a core accent, "bad sandwich." His companions snicker.
"I'd rather suffer a bad sandwich than be here," the Admiral admits bitterly.
"Ma'am, why are we here?" Eli asks, his CO shrugs.
"No idea, Ivanto." She sighs.
"Fire," Vah'nya sighs, her eyes are distant and her voice far away. Eli and Ar'alani watch her carefully.
"Elaborate."
"Hm? Oh. A fire would make the evening more interesting." Vah'nya explains.
"Arson is a crime." Eli says.
"Is it?" Vah'nya asks, her eyes sparkle.
"Pretty sure," Eli smiles.
"So, you don't know." Vah'nya's returns a smile of her own.
"I mean," Eli plays up the exasperation.
"Is it wise to discuss a potential crime in front of your commanding officer?" The Admiral asks dryly, lifting her brow and watches them both.
"Heard, ma'am."
"I've always held an interest in the affairs of the Pantoran." The human says. The Admiral remains silent. She has one arm across her waist and holds onto a glass of wine with her other hand.
The human leans in, as if to covey some great secret, the Admiral narrows her eyes, she knows what he is about to say.
"Do you need something for your eyes?" He makes a face, trying to show that he cares, that he is concerned.
"I'm Chiss." She says coolly.
"Oh, my manners, forgive me, I'm Marcos." He holds onto her arm; the Admiral looks at his hand.
"This one is clearly the representation of the soul." Vah'nya gesticulates dramatically.
"Yeah?" Eli has no idea why he is here. He never feels comfortable around art, or the people who like art. He doesn't understand it, it makes him feel stupid, out of place, small, and unworthy. He frowns at the painting in front of him.
"I mean, can't you feel the emotion?" Vah'nya places her hand over her heart and exhales as she closes her eyes.
"I feel some kind of way." Eli says.
"It emotes," Vah'nya opens her eyes.
"Where were you ten years ago?" Eli asks half annoyed, but mostly playful and in good spirits. If only she had been present on previous trips to the art receptions he had to suffer with Thrawn.
"In a cupboard under some stairs on that ship." She frowns, did he really forget? She wonders why Eli asks questions he knows the answers to sometimes.
"You're so cool," Eli says flatly.
"You're welcome. Hey! More bad sandwiches," Vah'nya points to a wall of more paintings, she grabs onto Eli's wrist and pulls him along.
There is a commotion, Eli and Vah'nya push through the crowd that has gathered, they can hear shocked hushed whispers. A human male is moving awkwardly, a painting has been brought down on his head, and it is caught somewhere around his middle. He is having difficulty moving and releasing himself.
Admiral Ar'alani smirks as she makes her through the crowd and to her companions.
"I think I get art now," Ar'alani casts a glance over her shoulder at the human struggling to remove the painting