Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and LFL. No profits were made and no disrespect is intended with this fic.

LIttle Pink Beads
by Feni

Wedge did not look happy. Nope, not at all.

Tycho was sitting in the seat to the right of Wedge's. Periodically, he would cover his mouth with his hands and close his eyes, in an attempt to hide his laughter from the group filtering in.

The WAASers took their seats around the large table, talking softly amongst themselves. Wedge waited until everyone had taken a seat to give them all the `Commander' look. The talking stopped immediately.

"I believe that I had made it clear to all of you that practical jokes were not acceptable in this squadron. But there seems to be a few of you that think this rule does not apply to you," his eyes roamed over the faces surrounding the table, meeting each one in turn. "The New Republic does not torture it's prisoners. Political or otherwise. Period." He folded his hands on the tabletop and frowned deeply.

Tycho turned his face from the table, his shoulders shaking. Hobbie was itching his nose and Wes shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. Ili was tapping a finger on the datapad that contained her cloning information, and Aggy was twirling the stylus to it in her fingers. Nigel was picking his nose, and Feni was staring, in disgust, fidgeting with one of the small braids tucked in her hair, a green colored bead at it's end. Mish and Kat were elbowing each other, probably over some small argument again. Arwen and Anti were mimicking Wedge's posture almost to the letter, and looking serious and funny at the same time.

Wedge tapped a button on the conference table, and a holoprojection resolved itself over the center of the table. "Get someone dow-" Wedge muted the feed, thankfully. A very angry Bothan, banging his fists on the cell door, screaming silently hovered over the table. The image zoomed in, and little sections of fur seemed to grow round, pink balls in the middle of them.

"Those beads were there when Borsk woke up this morning, and they were glued in with industrial strength mechanic's glue." Nearly everyone's eyes turned briefly to Feni, the resident mechanic. Both for the glue and for the resemblance in her beads and in Borsk's. She adjusted in her seat and returned each stare with a big grin. "Feni, I'm restricting you to base for three weeks. You'll have to postpone your trip home for that long." She nodded in understanding, flicking the beaded braid over her shoulder. "As for the rest of you, please let that be yet another reminder for what is thought of pranks in this squadron. Dismissed."

Feni, proud grin fixed on her face, stayed seated, having gone though this restriction procedure numerous times before, knew that Wedge would want to have a little talk with her. Wes took a seat next to her.

"Am I to understand, by your presence here, that you had something to do with this prank as well, Wes?"

He nodded, mirroring Feni's proud grin with a twinkle of his blue eyes.

"And what was your part in this?"

"I let her in the cell, and bought her the beads."

"Uh huh." Wedge waited until Tycho had closed the door after the last member left the room. "It was a damn fine idea, and I hate having to uphold this image, but you both should really know better. I'm afraid that I have to restrict you to base as well, Wes."

Wes nodded and slipped his hand into Feni's, giving it a conspiratorial squeeze.

Wedge rose and had made it to the door before turning back around. "Oh, and don't forget to take a glue solvent down to Mr. Fey`lya. It would be a tragedy if those beads were to stay in his hair. And we certainly shouldn't let him tear his own fur out just to remove them." He flashed the tiniest of conspiratorial grins before disappearing though the door, Tycho in tow. Their laughter rang into the conference room as the door slid shut.


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