Chapter One: No, she's my daughter!
Posted Nov. 2nd, 2008
The sleek Nubian craft landed almost soundlessly. Passing rebel men spared more than a few glances at its sleek, chrome-plated surface. The ramp slowly lowered, a faint amount of steam billowing from the hatch. The passengers descended, the leader - a woman, medium height - walking with a careless grace that caught the mens' attention more than the ship itself. The two men behind her, obviously bodyguards, dutifully followed.
The woman's heels slapped the steel ramp, the sound echoing obnoxiously off the walls of the dark hangar.
With a flick of her hands, she summoned an officer. Five minutes were heatedly spent arguing with the man. No, she didn't have a "pass" or card, but she had to speak with Bail and Mon. Eventually, of course, he caved, and lead her through the halls.
Kamino, she thought with distaste and unease. The walls were white as white could be, the frames in a rounded square. Windows in the wall provided a clear view to both of the hangars she had just left - dark, littered with orange-dressed men, and full of ancient ships.
Outside, she knew rain pounded heavily. Better inside than out.
And then her guide stopped, opened a door, and vanished.
She stepped inside.
The room was circular, dead white, armed with only a white round table in the middle. An occupied table.
The occupant jerked his head up.
The man lurched to his feet. He had a black gotee and black closely cropped hair. He wore an Alderaanian style suit with a cape/cloak around his shoulders.
"Good evening, Bail," she said. She pulled back her own hood.
"Senator Amidala!" the prince choked out. He sank back into the chair. "It's not just me, then. I was wondering. Do you know what-?"
Padmé shook her head silently. Why would she know what was going on? She walked slowly to the table, taking a seat opposite him.
She wondered how to break the news. He wasn't going to take it well. Best go in easy, she reasoned, then winced at her grammar.
"Bail, I'd love to sit and talk about the sheer impossibility of this actually happening, but I honestly am here for more pressing matters. As least for right now."
She shifted her skirts, waiting for him to get the subtle hinting. He stared at her blankly.
The blood rushed to her face, and she could hear the buzzing from the lights above. Why couldn't he just understand the inference?
"My children, Bail. My twins. I want to see them."
Bail Organa's composed face instantly lost its composure for the briefest of seconds. Then he forced a smile.
"I'm, ah, afraid that isn't possible."
Padmé stared at him. "What?" She couldn't even formulate the proper words to express her disbelief.
"Well, your son is out performing an errand with General Calrissian, and-"
She heaved a breath of relief. "I can wait, Bail. It's alright. What about Leia?" And she'd thought that he meant -
"Padmé, I mean, you can't see her. She's not even your legal daughter anymore; she's mine. I think it best for her not knowing your story."
Dead silence. She was so shocked that she couldn't even speak.
A solid two minutes passed. Bail's forced smile vanished.
Finally, she managed, "She's my daughter, Bail. Forget the laws! I just want to meet her, to speak to her. You can't keep me from her."
The prince stood abruptly. "I can, and I will. You're downright foolish if you think that I will allow any sort of contact."
Again, Padmé Amidala, former queen and senator, was struck speechless.
She lurched to her feet as well.
"No, you can't! I am her mother! You know the law as well as I do!" She stopped, fixing him with an absolutely vicious glare. "Or maybe you're ignoring it for your means!"
Bail's fists clenched. "I am not in this for myself! I cannot bring myself to allow my only child to tossed to the hands of a monster. Or at least the monster's wife," he spat contemptuously. "The only thing you will do is corrupt her thoughts, stop her from feeling."
"Anakin is not a monster," she hissed. "Vader is. I have no intentions of letting my daughter into his hands. And corrupt, Bail?"
"Your beloved has tortured her, maimed her, destroyed her home planet! Where have you been all these years? What claim do you have to her, other than blood?"
"I have been dead, you idiot! You saw me die! Where were you when the Sith took Leia?"
He stared at her, eyes narrowed. "He's alive, isn't he?"
Padmé froze. Her instincts suddenly screamed for Anakin... "He? He who?"
The Alderaanian senator exploded. "You know damn well who I mean, Amidala! Vader's back! You're protecting him! How can you do that after all he's done? Don't you care anymore?"
He paused for breath, rapping his fists against the table. The sound echoed throughout the room, but neither of them heard it.
"I will never let her near you. Never. And for the record, she would hate you! She would hate-"
Padmé swung her fist squarely into his face. For a moment, it was difficult to tell who was more shocked: her or the prince.
But then she composed herself.
"If that is how you feel, then, Bail." She gathered her gown neatly.
She stepped towards the door. And, feeling remarkably like a vilain in a holovid, she vowed, "I will hunt my children until I die, Your Majesty. Leia will know me as her true mother, and will address me as such."
She glared and turned, walking out on the Alliance and all that she had ever stood for.
Ex-Senator Mon Mothma stared at Bail. It was the same room, almost the same drill.
"Bail, what happened to your face?"
Bail winced, reaching up to touch the mottled red and purple splotch on his cheek. "Oh. The former senator of Naboo happened."
Mon Mothma lifted an auburn eyebrow in disdain.
"You mean little Pooja Naberrie?"
"No, Mon, I mean Padmé Amidala."
More silence.
"Senator Amidala was here? Why didn't you com me? We should have- wait. Why isn't she here now? Why does she have something to do with your face?"
Bail gave a harsh laugh. "She slapped me."
Mon Mothma stared at his bruised face, then looked away.
"I don't believe that she would have slapped you. She was always so level headed. She always wanted the best for the people. She was so-"
"Vader's alive. She's supporting him."
There was a gasp.
"But Bail - why?"
Bail stroked his gotee. He knew that Mon hadn't spent a lot of time around the Jedi.
"The only rational solution is that she doesn't know what she's doing. Vader must have been there before she came back. I can only imagine how he managed to twist her mind to see his views..."
"Bail, why her?"
"Because, Mon, she's a beautiful woman who hasn't lived to see her twenty-eighth year. She's well known, well credited. People who held her views will turn to the new empire. Basically, he needs a trophy to hang on his arm at functions. And to ..."
He stopped.
"To what?" she whispered, even though she knew the answer.
"He needs an heir, Mon. He needs her to get him an heir. She came asking for Leia."
Dead silence.
"Leia?" breathed the Chandrillan senator. "Why her?"
"Later, Mon. The others need to hear this, too."
They lapsed into silence.
Secret passageways were convenient. She had caught the tail end of the first conversation and the start of the second. Leia Organa watched her father and her mentor leave the room in silence.
