Snap-hiss.

Bzzzz.

Apprentice and remote faced off, the machine running through its program startup, the woman reaching out and centering herself in the Force, preparing for the exercise. After a moment, the remote floated up to hover a meter above the apprentice's head and three meters distant. There it rested, waiting. Closing her eyes, her shoulders relaxed, her mind cleared, the woman meditated and tried to keep persistant thoughts from intruding in this all-too-important workout. For more than a year, a name had haunted Leia's thoughts, distracting her from her training and leading to her fair share of disciplinary knocks from Master Sebatyne.

Padmé Amidala Naberrie. Mother?

Abruptly, the remote sphere blazed into action, spinning and shooting low-level stun bolts at the Jedi-in-training. Simultaneously, the lightsaber came up to block each shot, and the novice settled into a smooth, controlled rhythm, sensing the shots almost before the remote fired, feeling light and energy pour into her and guiding her hands.

Mother.

At least, Leia thought so. The few recordings Artoo had been coerced into giving up indicated that the beautiful, sad woman that had loved Anakin Skywalker was indeed the missing link in the Skywalker legacy. The first time Leia had seen this small, strong woman, she had been struck through the heart with recognition, as though the Force had begun to peel back layers of protection and well-meaning deceit to present a truth to her.

And yet...and yet -

Disquiet wormed into her mind, and the ease with which she had met the probeís onslaught faltered. A stray red bolt zipped by her ear, and she grimaced, fighting to fall back into the Force.

Thirty-five years earlier, on Endor, before Luke's departure on a mission she had been certain would end in death, before that final, desperate push of the Alliance - Luke had asked her of her memories of the woman she thought of as mother. And Leia had described, with difficulty, the sense of love, fear and sadness that she had always associated with that title. That woman had been mother, always a warm, faceless feeling of great love and greater grief.

As much as she had loved her foster mother, the Queen of Alderaan and wife to Bail Organa, Leia did not have any clear recollection of her. The Queen had died suddenly after a brief and debilitating virus had swept Aldera, wiping out a third of the population in little less than a month. She had loved her foster mother and been loved in return, and that should have been enough. Now she wondered if the memories she had always associated as belonging to her real mother were in fact those of the Queen.

Why did it matter? Shouldn't she feel grateful that two mother-figures had loved her?

Another beam struck, this time close enought that it sizzled through her wide, flowing sleeve. Gritting her teeth, she tried to force her mind back onto the task at hand.

Not now, she muttered to herself, forcing her breathing to slow down, stretching to feel the Force's guidance.

Gradually, she let go of the worries and settled into her match against the remote. A distant part of her mind noted that her skill with her lightsaber had increased tenfold in the time she had spent with Saba Sebatyne, and her joy in her new skill increased her connection with the Force. Now it poured into her, a strong rushing river, and she once again gained advantage over the remote. Spinning, flipping, her lightsaber always met the red attack and deflected the beams into the specially shielded walls of her training room.

Deep in meditation now, her mind opened to the Force, she was unaware of the moment when she slipped from the now into the the past.

Suddenly -

A viewscreen set into an expensive, elegant wooden dest. The recording flickered from black to the startling image of a woman, her lips frozen in the act of speaking. After a second, the image sprang to life.

"My noble colleages, less than an hour ago an assasination attempt was made on my life. One of my bodyguards and six others were ruthlessly, senselessly murdered. I was the target, but more importantly, the security measure before you was the target."

A young woman stood on a freeform podlike platform, addressing an enormous assemblage of beings. Her dark robes and severe hair emphasized the solemnity and quiet passion of her words.

"I have led the opposition to building this army, and someone will stop at nothing to assure its passage." She leaned forward, and even the bland quality of the holorecording captured the fire in her deep brown eyes. "Wake up, Senators! You must wake up! If you offer the Separatists violence, they can only show violence in return. Many will lose their lives; all will lose their freedom. I pray you do not let fear push you into disaster."

Dissent and jeering nearly drowned her out from parties off camera. Undeterred, she stood silent until the rancor died down enough so that she could agin be heard.

"Vote down this security measure, which is nothing more than a declaration of war. Does anyone want that? I cannot believe they do." But a subtle ripple of uncertainty had flashed across her face before she controlled the impulse and schooled her features.

Leia reached forward and froze the image, studying the speaker intently. She checked the datapad on her lap and keyed in a request for the speakerís name. Only some illicit tinkering with her father's memory cores had yielded up this forbidden tidbit, and now she bit her lip, hoping her luck would hold out. This young, intelligent, passionate senator - somehow Leia recognized her, though she could not immediately recall her name. Pure chance had brought this file to the fore - she had been searching for more information on the origins of the Separatist conflict that had divided the Old Republic some fifteen years before, and had quickly deduced that her Imperial-approved texts were little more than revisionist history.

Knowing better than to question her tutors on any aspect of the Old Republic, she had instead elected to steal into her father's study and do a little digging on her own. Years before, she had overheard a conversation between Bail and one of his closest advisors that led her to believe that he had hidden Senate recordings from the Old Republic in information caches throughout his private rooms. At the time, the child had had no idea why her father would do such a thing, but perceptive Leia understood immediately that it was a secret, and one that might threaten her beloved father. In truth, she had buried the conversation deep, so as not to accidentally let it slip - until today, when she had found herself moving to his private study almost without realizing it.

A quick slice into the security systems, courtesy of Bail's passwords and one of his identity cards, and she had slipped into the spare, comfortable room and settled into the firm chair behind his vast orowood desk. Another slice job caused a hidden subroutine to display a directory, and she had entered "Separatists; Senate" into the search query. A list of Senate files, presumably detailing various motions and hearings had appeared. Leia scanned the lists, and the one titled Naboo1PAN.24 had caught her eye.

Now a box popped up, asking for another password. Leia frowned, and tried the one that had brought up the directory. Immediately, she knew she had erred: a box obscured the young woman's face and informed her that subsequent incorrect password attempts would result in the file's destruction.

Aghast, Leia froze, as if any movement would lead to the impending catastophe. She was still staring at the blinking screen, wondering frantically what to do to close down the program without losing that precious information, when the door to the study slid open and Bail Organa strode in. He pulled up short at the sight of her and his brow wrinkled in puzzlement at the guilty expression on her face.

"Leia? What are you up to?" Three long strides, and he crossed to stand behind her so that he could see his desk monitor. Leia shrank into her seat and started to try to explain when his expression stopped her.

As Bail Organa stared down at the image of the young woman, his breath caught and old pain suffused his strong features. Leia suddenly felt as if her father had fallen far away. Hesitantly, she reached out and gently shook his sleeve.

"Father?" she asked quietly. With a jerk, Bail raised his eyes to meet his daughter's, and for a strange moment, Leia thought that he saw someone else in her place. She waited, absorbing his searching gaze until the moment passed, and he was again her father.

"How did you access this?" To her surprise, he did not sound angry, but cautiously curious.

Sheepishly, she confessed, adding, "But I wanted to know the truth Father! There's so much of our history that doesn't make sense - I just...wanted to know..." She trailed off uncertainly.

Bail gazed down at his daughter and a small, melancholy smile graced his lips. "I want you to know the truth, Leia. I do not, however, want you slicing into my private files in order to do so. Is that understood?"

She nodded, and they stayed silent for a moment, lost in their respective thoughts. Then, Bail roused himself and prodded Leia out of his chair. Seating himself , he quickly entered in a series of codes and cleared the screen.

"I didn't lose anything, did I?" Leia asked in a small voice. Her father shook his head, and her next question flew out of her mouth. "Father, who is that speaker? Do you know her?"

Bail frowned, and his eyes went a little blank, but he answered her question after a moment. "She was a senator from a smaller planet - in the Mid-Rim, I believe. She was against the formation of the Republican Army. Other than that, I really canít remember." As he said the last, he looked directly into her eyes, and Leia caught her breath, reading the message there: I cannot speak of this. Do not ask me again. Then his gaze moved subtly but deliberately to various points on the walls surrounding them.

Unnerved, she slowly nodded her head in understanding. Spycams and microphones, hidden in the walls. How long had they been there? Had she inadvertantly revealed anything?

Her worry must have been plain on her face for Bail reached out a hand, squeezed her shoulder, and shook his head slightly. She relaxed.

"I can see that youíve outpaced your instructors. Maybe it's time you got some real-world experience." He paused as her eyes suddenly lit up with hope, teasing her by drawing out the moment. "How would you like to be my assistant?"

"Oh, Father!" she cried and flung herself into his arms, strangling him in a joyful hug.

Laughing, he extricated himself and stood up, slinging an arm around her shoulders and steering her to the door. "I think we can channel your curiosity and intelligence into a more productive pasttime than illegal file tampering," he teased, and they left the room giggling together -

Leia blinked and shook her head. She found that she was kneeling on the floor, her hands on her thighs, her head up and tilted back slightly, staring at the far wall. Slowly she took in her surroundings, letting her mind catch up with the present. On the floor, the remote lay quiescent and deactivated. She felt her lightsaber's weight, once again attached ot her utility belt.

Of course, she had experienced Force-enhanced memories before, but never before with such overwhelming clarity. For a few moments she had been there, in her father's study in Aldera. In the space of a heartbeat, she was twelve years old again, the youngest apprentice-legislator to the Alderaanian senate with an uncanny handle on politics and diplomacy, and proud daughter to Imperial Senator Bail Organa.

An upwelling of emotion swelled in her throat and she closed her eyes, riding it out. When her breathing calmed, she systematically rewound through the memory and freeze-framed the shot of the young senator. Without doubt, it was the same woman from Artoo's holorecordings.

No wonder Bail had hedged. He must have been terrified that she would start asking questions, that she would somehow know who the woman was. Even early on, Leia had demonstrated a dogged tenacity to ferret out information from the deepest crevasses. Had she not acquiesced to Bail's unspoken request, she might have unknowingly brought down the full might of Imperial Intelligence on House Organa, and she knew from later experience that neither she nor her father would have survived.

But she had let it go, unwittingly following one of the primary tenets of old Jedi doctrine - detachment.
Leia smiled to herself, wondering absently how often her Jedi heritage had steered her out of danger. Plenty, she was sure.

Rocking back on her heels, she pushed off the floor and rose smoothly to her feet, stretching out her arms and back. At least now she knew why Padmé had struck a familiar pang in her. Not only was this woman most probably her mother, she had also been a member in the Senate. Like Leia.

That thought gave her pause. She had always thought of Luke as the follower of family tradition, that her proclivity toward politics had been as result of Bail Organa. Instead, perhaps she had merely been following the other set of genes into a different kind of public service. Comfort washed over her at the idea. Suddenly she felt as though she might just belong to the Skywalker bloodline after all, not just as an apprentice-learner to her father's tradition, but also as a master in her own right to her mother's legacy.

Lost in these new and interesting thoughts, she left the training room and started off down the hall in search of her brother.