"Your Highness, Captain Rieekan requests you in the infirmary. Urgent," an aide whispered into the ear of Breha Organa.
She tapped her finger on the desk once to let her aide know the message had been received and refocused her attention on the matter at hand. Her husband had worked tirelessly in the senate to gain allies who would be amenable to pressuring their respective governments to act independently of the senate to render aid to refugees of the war. He just sent word this morning of talks of hosting a conference to discuss the issue. It was her duty to ensure Alderaan hosted it, and so she sat in her council room from dawn to dusk, conferring with her advisors to craft the perfect bid.
"We will, of course, have to contend with Naboo as a bidder," Councilor Pietto Byrr said. "Ruwee Naberrie of Naboo was once the President of the Refugee Relief Movement."
"Nonsense," Councilor Shen Imothus interjected. "Everyone knows they had an outbreak of the Blue Shadow Virus not one standard month ago. No one would deem that a safe location for a conference."
"The Jedi synthesized an antidote and contained it. Naboo was hardly affected," Councilor Byrr retorted.
"Councilor Imothus is right, Councilor Byrr. Though it is not the virus outbreak that would have any security force worth their salt concerned. Rather, it is the fact that a secret Separatist lab was found, and no one knows how many more there might be. Senator Amidala herself was captured by Separatist forces while on her own planet," Lieutenant Rilir Senorre drawled.
"Enough," Breha said, cutting through the bickering. "My husband is friends with Senator Amidala. I'm sure he will inform me soon enough if Naboo plans to bid for the conference. Until then, we will focus on Alderaan."
She gazed out at the five gathered advisors in the room. Once each one gave her a nod, she relaxed a fraction. "We will continue tomorrow. I'm afraid I am needed elsewhere."
"Of course, Your Highness," the assembled councilors chorused.
Breha Organa stood from her seat at the head of the table and swept down the hall. Captain Rieekan, the head of her royal security force and one time General of the Galactic Republic, was rarely one to claim urgency. He knew his work, and Breha trusted him, which allowed both to operate without undue oversight. If something came up, Captain Rieekan would handle it and inform Breha when it became convenient, whether that be mid-conflict or post. Never during an important meeting with her advisors.
Plain white doors slid open to admit her into the infirmary and she stepped inside. Her gaze found Captain Rieekan's. He nodded stiffly and beckoned her over. Once beside him, she could see the woman lying still in an infirmary bed. Blood and soot-stained her skin, and a thin scar ran along her right cheek. The suit she wore wasn't like any Breha had seen before. A thick, textured, black fabric made up the bulk of the suit, accented with purple in the same fabric around the neckline and under the arms. Bulky metal gloves drew her eye. They were not like traditional greaves, and the metal craftsmanship did not appear Mandalorian in nature. The lack of armor elsewhere also confounded her. Some Jedi only wore greaves and pauldrons, that she knew, but the rest of the woman's clothing did not match what she knew to be typical Jedi style.
Breha turned her attention to Rieekan. "Captain, why has this woman not been rendered aid?"
"Her injuries are not life-threatening," he responded gruffly, "and given the circumstances of her arrival, we were hesitant to offer aid without your prior authorization."
"Explain the circumstances then," she commanded.
He nodded and began his report. "Forty minutes ago we received a radar alert of a low-flying vessel over the Royal Woods. The alert was brief and when checked, nothing appeared. A radar technician decided it was a false alarm, but ran diagnostic tests to determine the cause of the failure. Three minutes later the tower at the Royal airfield spotted smoke rising from the woods around the palace. A team was dispatched and found the wreckage of a large ship. This woman appears to be the only one who was aboard."
"I do not understand how any of that prevents us from rendering aid."
"Your Highness, somehow a ship appeared on our radar just meters above the cut-off for detection. We did not detect them entering the atmosphere. Fire rescue troopers sent to the scene report that the ship's design is unlike anything they've seen before. Certainly not Alderaanian. Until we know more, I am advising that this woman was part of a hostile force attempting to enter our planet without detection."
Breha hummed and continued to examine the woman. "And you were concerned that rendering aid might lead to diplomatic repercussions…"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"I appreciate your concern, Captain, but we will help those in need. Hostile or not, she appears to be alone and injured, I would prefer to keep her in the guest wing of the palace until she recovers," Breha said.
Captain Rieekan knew his Queen. He knew an invitation for argument, even if he also knew she had a rebuttal prepared. That in mind, he gathered his thoughts. "I do not believe I will be able to talk you out of this. But she will be guarded, and only the guards and medical staff will know she is here. That ship had room for dozens. I do not wish to bring any of her allies to our doorstep."
She chuckled, "Very well, Captain. I leave you in charge of that. See to it that she receives aid and a proper room. When she wakes, I expect to be the first to speak with her. None of your interrogations, Captain."
Captain Rieekan's lips tugged into a smile and he leaned forward in a slight bow.
With that, Queen Breha Organa swept out of the room. She had work to do, yet the strange woman in the infirmary would not leave her thoughts.
