36 ABY, Naboo
Mara watched the navicomputer count down toward the proximity alarm with a gnawing feeling she wouldn't quite call dread. It was more of an anxious anticipation, and it wasn't entirely her own. This was a trip several decades in the making, and there was a lot of accrued emotion riding on it. She was still convinced the whole experience was going to be a good thing, no matter how challenging it proved to be.
Mara had never enjoyed wrangling her own emotions, preferring to shove them into a forgotten corner of her mind to be dealt with at some undetermined later date, so of course fate had paired her with a husband who was more emotionally dynamic than the average man, and permanently spliced her into the epicenter of his thoughts. It was like being placed in the middle of a frenzied parcel hub in Imperial Center after being trained at some regional outpost. Despite the apparently chaotic activity, Luke's mind was actually a very ordered place, and Mara had learned to recognize the calm amid the colorful whirl of feelings, thoughts, and impressions. That calm felt more deliberate than usual as Luke stared blankly into the swirling light of hyperspace, his nerves coiled with that fluttering anticipation Mara had been coping with all week.
After R2-D2 had been forced to give up the worst of the family secrets, the droid had reluctantly become very compliant, disgorging a surprisingly deep archive of fragmented memories and mundane recordings of his previous owner, the former queen and senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo. It had become apparent that Artoo had belonged to her for at least a full decade before she had gifted him to her secret husband, Anakin Skywalker. Ever since the end of the Killik war, Luke had been consumed by those holos, hours and hours of them, gradually coming to know his mother's ghost through those precious moments one curious droid had preserved for posterity.
Leia had preceded them a few months earlier, preferring to avoid for now the pomp and ceremony the Naboo nobility would lavish on an official visit. Instead, she had sent her official regards to the reigning queen and visited privately with Pooja Naberrie, her old colleague from the Imperial Senate, and apparently their first cousin by blood. The provisional genetic profile she submitted had confirmed the relationship, but official recognition by House Naberrie and the other Royal Naboo would be granted only after the results had been replicated by a ceremonial test performed by competent authorities before the appropriate witnesses. She and Threepio had briefed Luke and Mara in detail so that they would know what to expect.
Now they were nearly there, dressed in their Jedi best, waiting for the planet to materialize in front of them. Nothing about it was optional anymore. Luke had to see, had to know, had to experience whatever he could of his mysterious history. They would confront it together, as a family.
The proximity alarm finally chimed its warning. "Everybody ready?" Mara asked, glancing over her shoulder.
"All set," Luke confirmed from the copilot's seat.
"Ready," Ben said from behind them, digging a finger beneath the stiff collar of his shirt.
"Secured," said Nanna, Ben's nanny defender droid. Artoo warbled an affirmative.
Exactly on schedule, they transitioned back into realspace, and a perfect green and blue world appeared ahead of them, wreathed in white clouds.
"Lucky the Vong never made it to this system," Mara murmured. They had refreshed their memory of the details of the Naboo system before they had left, and it was an idyllic place. It would have been doubly tragic in hindsight for it to have been Vongformed beyond all recognition before they had understood its significance.
The comm lit up as they approached polite hailing distance. "Incoming ship, this is the Naboo Planetary Guard. Please confirm your identification."
It was a soft and pleasant voice with a lilting accent, probably a woman. It had an immediate disarming effect, although Mara had no doubt the trio of starfighters angling to intercept them knew their business if the exchange turned hostile.
"Naboo Planetary Guard, this is Jedi Master Luke Skywalker and family aboard the Jade Shadow, heading for Theed city." Luke's tone was all cool pilot's professionalism, but Mara could feel the knot in his stomach. "We are expected."
It took only a moment for the scout ship to reply. "Indeed, you are expected, Grand Master Skywalker, and may we be among the first to welcome Your Grace home to Naboo."
Luke frowned at the comm, Ben sniggered, and Mara turned to snap her fingers at their son.
"Maintain your current vector, and we will announce you to Theed City Control."
"Thank you," Luke said, terminating the connection.
Mara allowed herself a twisted smile. "Well, they're all politeness," she observed, "Your Grace."
Luke turned that narrow look on her. "Don't you start," he warned.
Although he had adapted to a certain level of ceremony, and was a great respecter of titles, Luke had never been very comfortable wearing honorifics. Mara noticed that he had quietly neglected to present himself as the Grand Master, but the Naboo were sticklers for protocol, and they were ready for him. It had been standard practice in the Old Republic to address all members of the Jedi Council as "your grace," and certainly the Grand Master himself. As a long-lost relation of the Royal Houses of Naboo into the bargain, Luke had absolutely no chance of escaping it.
Another trio of starfighters was dispatched from Theed to meet them and escort the Jade Shadow to the spaceport. They understood it to be another honorary courtesy.
"So, Mom, does this mean we're royalty?"
"Not exactly," Mara said, splitting her attention between her son and the landing vector. "Ben, we talked about this. The monarchs of Naboo are elected, and serve fixed terms."
"I know that," Ben persisted, raising his voice to be heard over the sudden turbulence as they hit the atmosphere. "They just seem really keen on giving us the royal treatment."
"Your father is owed that much on his own merit," Mara insisted, holding course, her eyes scanning all the relevant instrumentation as the fiery glow of re-entry blossomed outside the cockpit. "But I see what you mean."
"Ben," Nanna admonished her young charge, "don't distract your mother while she's flying."
"Cool off, Nanna," Ben retorted. "Mom could land this thing with her eyes closed."
Although she was inclined to correct him for his rudeness, Mara did appreciate his confidence.
"Just because she can doesn't mean she should."
The droid also had a point.
"Ben, be polite to Nanna," Luke insisted, his level tone restoring the tranquility despite the rough ride.
Then they were through it, and the landscape of the planet rose up to meet them, a rolling green carpet dotted with lakes and hills, lined by deep gorges and silvery rivers. They fell into formation with their starfighter escort, cruising over huge swaths of unspoiled wilderness only occasionally interrupted by towns and great estates that seemed to rise naturally out of the environment rather than tame it.
Theed gave the same impression, but on a grand scale. Mara had to assume the planet was endowed with extremely rich copper resources, because she had never seen another place built with such an excessive concentration of verdigris-covered domes.
"The whole place looks like a museum," Ben observed. "If their mother was a queen, it doesn't seem fair that Aunt Leia gets to be a princess and Dad doesn't."
"That was an accident of adoption," Luke explained again, "nothing to do with anything here. And besides," he added with a hint of a smile, "I never wanted to be a princess."
Ben rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean!"
Their escort bypassed the bustling spaceport and led them over the city toward a very impressive district that had to be the seat of government. There was a private collection of docking bays and maintenance facilities nearby, obviously meant for the use of the monarch and her officials. Their escort directed them to the bay reserved for them, wished them a pleasant stay, and then peeled away to return to their own hangar. Mara set the Jade Shadow down as instructed, so gently that she almost overrode the impact sensors in the landing struts. She really could have done it with her eyes closed.
"We're here," she announced unnecessarily, beginning the shutdown sequence. "Nanna, go pull out the luggage, please."
"I got it," Ben volunteered.
"Not you," Mara insisted. "You'll get yourself all rumpled, and there's no time for wardrobe emergencies."
"That's princess life for you," Luke said, unable to resist.
Ben shot him a sour look, but he didn't dare quip back at his father, at least not in front of his mother. "I'll just go watch, then," he said, unbuckling himself and heading aft.
Mara drew a deep breath in that one moment they had to themselves. "I see we have a welcoming committee," she said, watching a column of brightly-colored figures enter through the docking bay doors.
"You ready for this?" Luke asked.
Mara scoffed. "I'm on vacation," she said. "The real question is whether you're ready for this."
He sighed, and for just the briefest moment looked like he would rather up struts and blast back to Coruscant. "I guess if I'm not ready now I never will be."
Mara showed him an equally brief look of sympathy, and then stood up and gave him a quick kiss and a punch in the arm. "Come on," she said. "These are your people, Skywalker, and it's high time you got acquainted. I doubt they'll bite."
They gathered Ben and the droids at the hatch. After making one last attempt to smooth some order into Ben's hair, Mara released the airlock and dropped the ramp.
The weather was mild and the air fragrant, like herbs and flowering trees. There were nine people waiting for them in the cloud-dappled sunshine as they exited the ship. Two were obviously palace guards, armed and uniformed. The four anonymously and identically-dressed girls in long aquamarine gowns had the look of royal handmaidens. In front of them all stood an older woman wearing an elegant combination of every shade of violet imaginable, her graying hair coiffed in an elaborate local style. Trying to keep out of her windblown skirts were two boys Ben's age.
"Welcome, Grand Master Skywalker," the woman said, leading her entourage in a formal bow with practiced grace but a very familiar smile, "or Luke," she amended, offering her hand in a warmer greeting, "as I hear you prefer."
"I'll make exceptions for ceremony," Luke allowed, accepting her hand and returning the smile, "but among friends and family I have to insist on it. It's nice to meet you, Pooja."
"It's certainly a memorable occasion for us as well," Pooja Naberrie assured them. "One doesn't discover secret cousins every day, and certainly not among figures of such historic consequence." The last of her formality vanished as her smile reached her eyes, and she grasped Luke's hand in both of hers with real emotion. "It is very, very good to see you, Luke. It would have been a pleasure under any circumstances, but the tragedy and the mystery of Padmé's death and her lost child has haunted us since that day. When Leia called to tell me who you really were, I couldn't believe it." A nervous laugh escaped her that might easily have become a sob on a less cheerful occasion. "I'm still coming to terms with it, to be honest. It's like finding a part of her still alive somehow."
"It's been a lifelong mystery for us, too," Luke said, laying his other hand over hers. "Family has always been very important to me, especially after growing up not knowing whether I had any left. I'm glad we were finally able to find the other half."
Mara could attest to that. For someone as conscious of familial bonds as Luke was, there were appallingly few living relations for him to claim. Or maybe it was the scarcity that made him so appreciative of the family he did have. It was plain that their relationship was equally important to Pooja, and Mara didn't begrudge them an indulgent moment at their first meeting.
Then Pooja seemed to return to herself. "I'm sorry, where are my manners?" she asked, pulling herself together. "You must be Mara. Your reputation precedes you, of course."
"The flattering one, I hope," Mara said, clasping Pooja's hand in turn. "This is our son, Ben."
"Ah, yes, young Ben Skywalker." Pooja offered him a gracious nod. "Named, I understand, in honor of the celebrated Obi-Wan Kenobi. I hear the entire galaxy expects great things of you, young man, but we won't bother you with all that just now. Today is today, and tomorrow is anyone's guess. I hope you enjoy Naboo, and that this may be the first of many visits to come."
Ben shrugged, not impolitely, and he seemed unsure how to answer. "Looks nice so far," he said. "Smells better than Coruscant."
Luke would have laughed, but he checked himself as Mara scowled at Ben. He and Pooja shared a look. "It's true, though," he admitted.
"Fortunately, yes," Pooja agreed. "Imperial Center did have a very distinct aroma, as I recall."
"It's very different now," Mara said, thinking of the clashing scents of urban decay and invasive Yuuzhan Vong jungle overlaid with the familiar smog of burning fuel and vehicle exhaust, "but I wouldn't say it's improved."
Pooja laughed and changed the subject. "These are my grandsons," she said, "Darred and Ruwee Veruna. They are very keen to know you, Ben, and perhaps you three can entertain yourselves while the adults get on with the stuffy business."
Darred, a handsome boy with black hair and pale green eyes, clearly the elder of the two, thrust out his hand in a very brusque but welcoming fashion. "Hello, Ben," he said. "I'm told we're your second cousins once removed, whatever that means."
"It means he's Dad's second cousin, mopak-for-brains," Ruwee protested, obviously the intellectual. "His dad is Grandma's cousin, and Great-Grandauntie Padmé was his grandmother. Sorry," he apologized, shaking Ben's hand in turn. "There's a whole chart in the archives, but they haven't added you in yet."
"Whatever." Darred was unconcerned with the details. "Family's family. We'll give you the grand tour of Theed Palace if you promise to get us inside the Jedi Temple."
"Well, no promises," Ben said with a lopsided grin and an unsubtle glance at his father, "but I do have some pull with some pretty important Masters."
Ignoring the boys and their antics, Pooja looked past them and melted as if she had seen a favorite pet. "Is that R2-D2?" she asked as the irrepressible astromech trundled forward to greet her. "I remember him from when I was just four years old." She bent down to caress his dome, which Artoo seemed to appreciate very much. "You've kept him so well. He looks just the same as he did sixty years ago."
"Nothing keeps Artoo down for long," Luke agreed. "I'm convinced he's seen more than all of us combined, and will probably survive to harass the next generation." He lowered his voice, broaching a more personal matter. "I think he's finally shown me all of his personal holo stash, although you never can be sure with him. Besides the major incidents, there's about three hundred hours of miscellaneous data that probably wouldn't interest anyone but us. I know I've sat and watched at least ten hours of Senator Amidala just sitting at a desk, but there were also some interesting bits of her learning to fly her starfighter, practicing maneuvers, Clone Wars stuff. I could have a copy made for you if you'd like."
Pooja smiled. "I would treasure it," she said. "Thank you."
They had only scratched the surface, and Mara imagined she could see a long stretch of happy memories ahead of them, visits, vacations, shared life events, watching the boys grow up together. They needed this, she realized, discovering some pristine and unspoiled part of the past to carry into the future.
Judging by the wistful look on her face, Pooja shared the sentiment. "In any case," she said, "it would be abominably rude of me to keep you standing here any longer. I'm sure you didn't come all this way just to see just me and the spaceport. The handmaidens will take charge of your things, and if you are all ready, I am prepared to present you to the queen."
Luke gestured toward the landing bay doors. "We're as ready as we'll ever be."
The streets of Theed really were more like a museum than a bustling city, Mara reflected. The traffic was largely pedestrian, and the atmosphere was quiet and unhurried. All the buildings were designed as much for beauty as for function, adorned with carved stone, arches, fountains, trailing ivy, and patio gardens. Just walking to the palace felt like a meditative retreat. She could get used to that, and she felt Luke's thoughts embrace her in silent agreement. They could all appreciate more quiet beauty in their lives.
They passed a statue garden along the way, four grand figures meant to represent the princely families of Naboo, surnames prominently engraved on the plinths. House Parnelli was distinguished by flowering topiaries in honor of the current queen's affiliation, but there were also House Tapalo, House Naberrie, and House Veruna. A fifth plinth was conspicuously empty, marked for House Palpatine.
Mara had always known the Emperor had been a native son of Naboo, but she had hoped to largely ignore that fact, especially on this trip. She felt the roots of Luke's anxiety rumble as he recognized the significance of the statues, still uncomfortable with the reminder of how near his newly discovered origins lay to the infamous Sith Lord.
"Mom," Ben ventured, eyeing the display as they passed. "Palpatine as in the Palpatine? Emperor Palpatine?"
"Yes, Ben," she confirmed as they continued walking. "Emperor Palpatine was once the senator representing Naboo in the Old Republic, the last of his house. I thought we talked about this."
"Yeah, I guess we did."
Mara was briefly aware that she could feel Ben's presence clearly in the Force, something that had been happening with more frequency lately. Unsettled by his parents' agitation, he muted his own perception again, disappearing into his personal refuge of silence. Mara's first instinct was to assure him that it was all going to be fine, that there was nothing he needed to hide from, but she let it pass, not wanting to make an embarrassing issue of it in front of his new friends. An invisible touch from Luke conveyed his agreement. Ben would have to come around in his own time.
"There are a few who still remember the Emperor fondly," Pooja told Luke, "but not many. Imperial sympathies have not been in vogue for a few decades at least, and those who hold them have essentially segregated themselves in society. Many of those holding office now were active in the resistance during the Civil War."
"I've heard that you were very active in the resistance yourself," Luke observed.
Pooja smiled demurely. "I saw some action back in the day," she admitted. "That's how I met my husband. The cause had a difficult time gaining traction here until the destruction of Alderaan and your exploits at the Battle of Yavin. Now that you're here, I would be remiss if I failed to offer my condolences for the loss of your childhood guardians, Luke, but considering the verdict of history, we may at least take some small comfort in the knowledge that the destruction of their farm proved to be one of the costliest mistakes of the war."
"You could think of it that way," Luke allowed, an almost-forgotten memory pinging in the back of his mind. "I wasn't the only one it impelled into service. Maybe it's a longshot, Pooja, but I wonder if you ever met someone named Haro Whitesun."
Judging by the way Pooja's surprise broke her stride, Mara assumed she had.
"He was my uncle by adoption," Luke explained. "I was told that after his sister was killed, he left Tatooine and found his way into the Naboo resistance. He was supposedly killed two or three years after Yavin."
"Two," Pooja said, suddenly pale. "It was two years after Yavin. My husband, Garrin Veruna, recruited Haro, and they became good friends. A meeting of the leadership was betrayed to Moff Panaka, and they were both killed in the raid."
Now Luke's steps faltered. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realize your husband was dead."
Pooja touched his arm sympathetically as they resumed walking. "It was a long time ago," she said, resigned. "You understand. War touches us all. Our son, Oberrin, was a more recent casualty. He inherited his father's idealism, and he couldn't abide waiting here until the Yuuzhan Vong appeared over Naboo. He offered his service as a starfighter pilot to the New Republic, and he died at the fall of Coruscant."
Luke's long, slow sigh was as eloquent an expression of his regret as anything else he might have said. "I wish I could have known him. Oberrin Veruna? I'll have to look him up in the official report. A lot of us died at the fall of Coruscant."
"We heard what almost happened to young Ben that day," Pooja said. "Whatever our other griefs, we can still be grateful for small mercies."
"Thank you."
"Oberrin's wife couldn't cope with the loss, I'm afraid," Pooja continued, concluding her brief family history. "She always had a delicate mental constitution. Her family looks after her now, and I've raised the boys."
Mara's attention wandered, one ear open for Ben and his partners in crime, the other following Luke and Pooja in their rambling conversation. She was noticing the city itself in all its tranquil grandeur for the first time, despite having been there once before. She hadn't come to appreciate the architecture that time, and her work had been done under cover of darkness. She was hoping to overwrite that memory now with more pleasant associations. She certainly had no intention of letting Palpatine's ghost dominate the visit.
Then they turned the corner, and everything came back to her in a rush—the street, and sounds, the smells, the towering statues—everything essentially as it had been almost forty years ago. Nothing she saw surprised her, but actually being there brought the memory flooding back with more vivid detail than she had expected, and certainly more than she wanted.
"And here we have Theed Royal Palace," Pooja was saying as they continued up the wide street toward a structure of monumental proportions, crowned with the largest green dome yet, "home of the planetary monarch for eight hundred years."
"It's impressive," Luke said, doing his very best to give no indication that all his conscious thought was bent toward Mara, questioning, concerned, aware that she was suddenly upset. Mara invisibly shoved him away, insisting that he pay attention to Pooja instead, following with a brief emotional caress that assured him of her appreciation and a promise to explain it all later. The whole exchange occurred in the mental shorthand they had developed between them over seventeen years of marriage, all within a fraction of a second. "The archive holos don't really do it justice."
"They never do, do they?" Pooja agreed. "There's nothing quite like seeing for yourself."
It was a sentiment common to many people present, Mara realized. The citizens near the palace precincts seemed to be more aware of what was going on, and those who found themselves on the street quietly clustered and drew back to watch as they passed. It may be their one chance to see Luke Skywalker in the flesh, doubly significant to them now as the fabled lost son of Amidala. Reading the crowd, Mara began to get a sense of how the recent revelations had seized the public consciousness on Naboo, the romance and the tragedy of it all as the final chapter played out before their eyes. The histories were actively being rewritten. Luke had not come in his capacity as a renowned war hero and Jedi Master, but simply as one who wanted to know his mother's people, willing to submit himself to their customs and traditions in pursuit of the truth.
"I trust Leia explained the ceremony to you both," Pooja was saying as they climbed the first of two grand flights of steps leading up to the palace gates, passing beneath the stony regard of six gargantuan statues.
"In detail," Luke confirmed.
"C-3PO is very thorough," Mara added.
Pooja smiled to herself again. "Ah, yes. He did seem very keen, even for a protocol droid. Young Ben will not be required to submit to the test, unless he later wishes to claim the privileges of House Naberrie. Although," she said, glancing back, "the resemblance to his parents is so pronounced, it may not be considered necessary."
"I assume the others will be there," Luke said, a veiled question. "Your mother and your sister."
Pooja's obvious reluctance to broach that subject would have made Mara's heart sink if her first reaction hadn't been indignation for Luke's sake. If they were absent, she would expect a damn good reason. The ceremony would be brief by all accounts, but it was kind of a big deal for everyone.
"They'll be there," Pooja assured them, "but I wouldn't expect much else, I'm afraid. I was hoping we could avoid any unpleasantness, but the truth is that Ryoo and our mother haven't embraced these developments with the same enthusiasm as the rest of us."
"Oh." Luke's voice had gone flat as he considered what that meant.
"You must understand," Pooja continued, almost pleading, "what happened to Padmé was a trauma that scarred our family across generations."
"It hasn't exactly been a picnic for Luke and Leia either," Mara protested. She almost regretted saying it, but not quite, not even after Luke touched her arm to discourage any hostilities.
"Of course not," Pooja agreed, "and it wouldn't be fair to say they blame either of you for it, but there were other people and other contributing factors that have not been forgotten or forgiven. For instance, I'll just tell you now that they don't remember your father or the Jedi Order fondly."
"Oh." Luke's tone had deepened, and implied more understanding. "I see."
"But that is by no means the common opinion," Pooja hurried to say. "Considering the outcome of the war and your record of service, the defects of the old Jedi are hardly of any account to most."
They had passed beneath the archway at the top of the stairs, and were walking through an enormous vaulted hall completely finished in earth-toned marble, reds and browns and greens, supported by ranks of polished pillars the color of flame. It did immediately give one the impression of several hundred years of tradition.
"Astral." Ben sounded rather awed, his voice echoing from the gleaming walls along with the sound of their footsteps. Raised in many places struggling to rebuild after the violence of war, he had never seen any intact building half so old, let alone so magnificent.
"This is just the antechamber," Darred insisted. "Wait 'til you see the rest of it."
Straight ahead through the far door, they emerged into an even larger vaulted hall with passages branching off in all directions, shot through with sunbeams streaming in from the skylights. It framed a grand double staircase leading up to a sunlit rotunda, every detail carved in marble.
"It's like another dimension in here!" Ben said. "How many stairs can you fit in one palace?"
Mara had to agree, estimating another climb of at least fifty steps at first glance. The room echoed with other voices gathered in the rotunda above them, a few formally-attired functionaries coming and going on the stairs as the royal court attended its daily business. Their dark Jedi robes were a sober contrast to the brilliant colors and glimmering finery of Naboo society, setting them apart at once. The conversation on the stairs gradually stilled as they were recognized, and several individuals who had been on their way down discreetly reversed direction to follow them. Mara didn't blame them. It was a historic moment that would be well worth witnessing if one possibly could.
Luke's insides were fluttering again. His imagination was racing, knowing Padmé had called that place home, had climbed those same steps every day for years, seen those same gilded halls, walked the same inlaid floors. He was finally immersed in her world, almost like traveling through time. He absorbed every detail, adding them to the image he was building in his mind, meticulously sculpting the mother he had never known out of official records, fragmented holos, and shadowy impressions. Mara didn't interrupt him, merely reminded him by the lightest touch through their Force-bond of her love and support.
Their pair of palace guards parted the crowd at the top of the stairs, leading them toward the center of the opulent rotunda. The queen's throne was set behind a grand marble desk, backlit by a huge window and flanked by a semicircle of council chairs. Queen Archana rose to greet them, bidding her counselors do the same, waving away the mundane affairs they had been discussing. A young woman of eighteen, she wore the ornate garb and painted face that was customary for the Queens of Naboo, adorned with shimmering crystals and premature gravitas.
"Our esteemed guests have arrived at last," she said in a pleasantly deep voice. Pooja, Mara, Ben, Darred, and Ruwee all bowed as instructed, but Luke by virtue of his rank was obliged to offer no more than a nod, a gesture the queen graciously returned. "We are very honored to receive you, Grand Master Skywalker, especially under such remarkable circumstances. The heritage of the Naboo people has surely been greatly enriched by the discovery of our common lineage."
"That's hardly for me to say, Your Highness," Luke demurred, "although I hope it may be so."
The queen smiled. "You're too modest," she insisted, "however fortunate a trait that may be for one so gifted." She clapped her hands twice, and a pair of older men robed in the colorful but more practical attire of court physicians approached from one side. "With your permission, Your Grace," she said, resuming her seat, "we will proceed."
The pair of physicians approached Luke with exaggerated deference, their sterile medical gloves looking strangely out of place amid all the royal splendor. Luke offered his left hand, allowing them to prick his finger and extract several large drops of blood, all under the watchful gaze of the royal counselors. At least four of them were the titular heads of the ruling houses, Mara knew, recognizing them from the profiles they had studied on the way there. Only one of them was a woman, a formidable lady with the same fine features Mara remembered from the holostills, Sola, matriarch of House Naberrie.
Sola Naberrie's expression might have been carved from the same marble as the walls, and she regarded Luke with a sort of surly and defeated indifference that made him very uncomfortable. She was his aunt by blood, Padmé's elder sister, the only real aunt he'd ever had, and it was disconcerting to be so rejected before the first introduction. Mara had her own opinions about that, but she kept them to herself for the moment. At Sola's shoulder stood a woman enough like Pooja to be a sister, probably Ryoo, looking equally displeased by the proceedings. She refused to make eye contact with Luke at all.
The physicians withdrew to perform the official genetic comparison, to definitively set to rest one of the most enduring mysteries of the last half-century. The court was assured it would only require a few minutes.
Too loyal to be restricted by royal etiquette, Artoo pushed his way forward to his preferred position at Luke's hip, behaving more like a jealous service pet than an all-purpose astromech.
Queen Archana smiled. "Is that R2-D2?" she asked, a wave of friendly amusement stirring the crowd.
"The one and only," Luke confirmed, laying an affectionate hand on the droid.
"His commendation is still listed among the honored members of the Royal Security Forces for assisting Queen Amidala in escaping the Trade Federation's blockade," Archana continued. "The Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi were also on that flight, as I recall. It seems R2-D2 made it his business many years ago to safeguard figures of extraordinary galactic consequence."
"Something he continues to do extremely well," Luke agreed. "I wouldn't be alive today without him, and he's ultimately the only reason we're here."
"Yes, we heard the tale of his mysteriously sequestered and indeed very extensive memory banks," Archana said. "It's enough to make one more aware of one's own flight of astromechs and how much they might overhear. Alternatively, it makes us wonder whether such droids have been underutilized as companions and archivists." She smiled again at Artoo. "In fact, I find myself quite tempted to adopt an R9 from the maintenance bay and have it assist me with my memoirs."
A chorus of polite laughter echoed through the hall. Mara noted with some dissatisfaction that only the representatives of House Naberrie declined to participate.
"Well, I can't recommend it to everyone," Luke qualified with a smile of his own, "but privately I suspect Your Highness wouldn't be disappointed."
The queen recovered herself with a contented sigh. "Ah, forgive me, I have been remiss. Master Mara Jade Skywalker, we are of course quite honored to receive you as well. Surely we owe you a debt of gratitude, as to all the Jedi, after your conduct during the Great Invasion. We have heard that you proved a worthy partner for your husband in the most climactic battles, which we understand to be high praise indeed."
"Your Highness is too kind," Mara said, keeping it simple.
"And this must be your son," she said, her eyes falling on him in turn with an unexpectedly warm appreciation, "the much-anticipated Ben Skywalker. You are a treasure to the galaxy, young sir, and I trust you will not waste your talents. Are you to be a Jedi like your father?"
Both Luke and Mara were uncomfortable with that line of questioning, painfully aware of Ben's ambivalence on that score.
"We wouldn't presume—" Luke began.
"I think," Ben interrupted him, unexpectedly stepping up between them, "I think I might. I wasn't sure at first, and it really was a lot to think about, but my cousin has been helping me understand things better, and . . . yeah." His voice trailed off, but his presence unfurled into the Force like a reluctant blossom, and he squared his shoulders with greater confidence and no small amount of pride. "I think I might."
To say Luke was glowing with pride of his own would have been an understatement, invisible except to the three of them. It was a feeling Ben enjoyed very much, thriving like a sapling in sunshine, and the two of them shared a glance that portended great things. Mara was as gratified as either of them, but at the risk of ruining the moment, she hissed a suggestion out of the corner of her mouth.
"Oh . . . Your Highness," Ben stammered in conclusion, throwing in a stiff little bow.
It charmed everyone in attendance, and Archana smiled. "Don't make yourself uneasy, Ben," she said. "We hope to know you much better before your visit has ended."
All conversation stilled as the royal physicians returned to the assembly. "If it please Your Highness and your Council," the first of them said, holding a flimsiprint already enshrined in gilded report frame, "we have a result."
"Thank you, Doctor," the queen said, waving him forward. "Please share your findings."
"Preliminary analysis of Master Luke Skywalker's matrilineal genetic profile confirms that he is a near parallel to the Royal Houses of Naboo, sharing most traits in common with House Naberrie. A detailed comparison reveals that he is in fact a perfect match to Lady Sola Naberrie, confirming that they share a common foremother."
Luke, who had stopped breathing until the verdict was read, finally exhaled. The last vestige of mystery was gone, and even though the result was no surprise, it was a relief to finally have it documented in black and white.
"Also," the physician added with a grandfatherly smile, "although we suspect the matter was never in doubt, a comparison to the preliminary profile submitted by Princess Leia Organa Solo confirms that they are indeed full-blooded siblings." He bowed, submitting their report to the queen.
Archana accepted it, laying it squarely in the center of the desk. Then she rose to her feet with a broad smile, the rest of her court with her. "Jedi Grand Master Luke Skywalker," she said, "it is my very great honor and privilege to acknowledge you and your heirs as descendants of House Naberrie, entitled to all the rights and privileges implied therein, the true and undoubted son of Queen Padmé Amidala of venerable memory."
The foremost members of the council knew their duty.
"House Parnelli affirms it," said a large man in an elaborate yellow tunic with puffed sleeves.
"House Tapalo affirms it." A middle-aged man in green, his black hair streaked with gray.
"House Veruna affirms it." An elderly man with piercing gray eyes.
There was the briefest hesitation, hardly noticeable except to those who were looking for it, before Lady Sola was obliged to submit to the inescapable facts of the matter. "House Naberrie affirms it," she said, though it gave her no pleasure.
Pooja had stiffened, but stood resolutely with her cousins, turning a subtle politician's glare at her mother and sister. Mara joined her in that, taking the measure of the opposition. She had seen glaciers warmer than those women. As someone who had once been rather glacial herself, she understood how Luke's persistence could warm someone given enough time, but she resented the fact that he faced such an unnecessary uphill battle at the outset.
Just once, it would have been nice if the good things in life could have come easily to him. But, as per the usual arrangement, if Luke wanted this he would have to fight for it.