Chapter 2. Children of the Force

It was 0700 hours standard time in Coruscant. The Senate building had not been officially opened for the day and only maintenance droids, security staff and a few dedicated Senator's aides could be found on its floors. The Senate was convening at 1000 hours for a special and single seating.

In the secluded conference room of the offices of the Supreme Chancellor, a five-hour meeting was reaching its final moments. Seated around the wide conference table were all the major stakeholders and decision makers of the Galactic Republic: the president of the Galactic Senate and her replacement, the Chancellor-Elect, the Vice-Chancellors, the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, the Minister of Finance and all twelve Council members of the revered Jedi Order.

Four Jedi Padawans served as immediate security detail. No mere junior apprentices, these were Chincans - soon-to-be-Knighted Padawan learners - who had long stopped operating under the direct authority of their Masters; their presence here showed the extent of the confidence of the Jedi Council in their abilities. They stood at strategic corners of the conference room, silent but alert to every event that was taking place within and without the conference room. Although their faces were expressionless and calm, they were attentive to the proceedings going on in front of them.

Well, at least, they should have been attentive to the proceedings going on in front of them. Luke Lars had done Senate duty twice already - once with his Master and very recently, as a Chincan and his attention span was being tested to its limit. Fortunately he had strategically positioned himself opposite the large view window which spanned the entire breath of the conference room and his eyes were following the progress of a familiar tan/grey two-seater transport that had just dropped recklessly into a lower level of air traffic and then swerved again to cut across an open-cockpit vehicle. It zoomed back and across in front of the window and then dropped out of sight. Luke latched on it in the Force and followed its progress as it navigated recklessly through the busy traffic.

At least one of us is having fun.

A slight tremor in the Force was the only indication that his Master had been taken unawares. A little Force-nudge was sent back through their bond.

Be mindful of the now, my young Padawan. I believe you are on assignment as we speak?

Boring Senatorial legislature. Chancellor Mon-Mothma will be sworn in today and we've been here for the past six hours making sure the Chancellor did not cook the books or fund a hidden army while in office. Then in a few hours, I have an ostentatious ceremony to look forward to. I'd rather be back in the Dagobah swamp with Yoda.

The Ceremony might mean catching a glimpse of the Chancellor's daughter, a girl not much younger than Luke himself. That was... something to look forward to.

He made sure to keep those thoughts out of the mental link.

His Master was not amused. Pay attention to the moment, Padawan. Your presence there is not perfunctory. You have a duty to perform and you cannot do it with half your attention.

Master Mace Windu looked up from the conference table and gave Luke a straight, direct glare. Luke stared back with blank innocence and fell silent. Master Windu kept his gaze on him a moment longer and then looked away.

As if on cue, his Master's voice returned to his mind. Your Trials may be over but every Padawan is tested up until the moment of his Knighting.

Yes, Master.

Do not become unnecessarily overconfident and sabotage your future.

Yes, Master.

We will see each other soon. Now, do your job.

Understood, Master.

Luke permitted himself a silent sigh as Master Windu's eyes came to rest on him again. This time he responded with a genuine look of contrition. Master Windu nodded sharply and returned his attention to the meeting.

Cantham House was a ghost of its former self. Yes, as Threepio informed her, the service droids kept it clean, conditioned and fit for habitation and when Leia stepped into it, it blinked into life like if it had been just yesterday that the ten-year-old Alderaanian Princess trailed after her mother as she left her childhood home for the last time, crying for the doll she had forgotten.

But humidity control and proper lightning were not enough to make a house a home. As Leia floated from room to room, the thought persisted in her brain:

This place is full of ghosts.

She saw a shadow of herself, racing between high walls covered with tapestry from her homeworld, her wookieee doll swinging from her grip. She passed the dining room, and saw a glimpse of her mother, then retired Senator of Naboo, as she hosted an elegant dinner for the Kashyyyk contingent. She passed the sound-proof doors of the music room, and she could almost hear the haunting strings of the hallisket that her parents tried to make her learn.

And everywhere, she saw her father. Talking. Laughing. Standing. Loving her. His presence seemed to saturate this house.

Bail Organa, Prince and Senator, husband and long-dead father. Dearly beloved and the only person in her life who had ever given a damn about her.

In his study, she could almost see his outline sitting behind his dura-fiber desk. When she came forward, and placed her hands firmly on it, she could almost feel him, pressing back against her palms.

"Thought this place was up for sale?"

Leia jumped, startled out of her wits and she grabbed the first thing at hand – a solid hologram base – to hurl at the intruder.

Then paused at the sight of the old Jedi Master.

"Obi-Wan?" she spluttered. "What are you doing here? How did you get –"

"Door was open," the Jedi Master said smoothly, walking up to her and completely unperturbed that she still held her weapon above her head, like if she hadn't quite decided to throw it or not.

"No, it was not," Leia snapped. She had watched Threepio secure it after them. And the protocol droid would never have let Obi-Wan barge in on her un-announced.

He shrugged, as if that was just semantics. "I'm more curious about what you're doing here."

She turned away, put down the base. "That's none of your concern. This is my home. Now leave, Master Jedi or I'll have the droids throw you out."

Obi-Wan snorted. "That would be… interesting."

Leia bit back a frustrated growl. "Did my mother send you?" she asked testily. Of course, she should have known that Amidala would be keeping tabs on her today of all days.

"Well, should be here? It's a few hours to the Inauguration. I expected you to be by her side."

"Why? Is she running for re-election again?" Leia snarked. "My only job is to look pretty and boost her 'Mother of the Galaxy' image. Otherwise, I'm superfluous and a chore she'd rather not deal with."

Obi-Wan sighed and Leia bit hard on her lip, angry with herself for revealing more than she'd have liked. But there was something about this old Jedi, this old staple in her mother's life, that brought it out in her.

She didn't know many other Jedi. A handful, really, in fact. But then again, Leia didn't know many people. Period.

Despite her mother's position – or perhaps because of it – Leia had led a sheltered life away from Coruscanti politics and current affairs. But Kenobi had always been a constant presence and Leia got the impression, long ago, that his presence in their lives was not because her mother was fond of Obi-Wan Kenobi – the opposite in fact – but because Obi-Wan insisted on having a presence in their lives. In Leia's in particular.

She never knew why. She had tried to find out once, but he was an unbelievable cryptic man. Eager with information in certain respects, and completely closed in others.

While all the while, having an uncanny ability to extract information from everyone else. Leia didn't know if it was a Jedi thing or just a testament to how lonely she was, how desperate she was for any kind of connection.

But whatever it was, she didn't like it.

"Leia, your mother –"

"-is a raging bitch that I don't want to talk about today. Let's talk about you instead." She rounded on him. "I haven't seen you in ages. I almost thought you'd retired."

Obi-Wan snorted softly. "That is... one way of describing it, I suppose."

"I hear your apprentice is getting Knighted soon. Must be proud."

Obi-Wan sighed again, obviously thinking that Leia was deliberately derailing the conversation. She was, and she wasn't. She was really interested in Luke Skywalker. The young Jedi… fascinated her.

She casually turned back to the desk, keeping her face away from old Kenobi, so that he won't see that she was now blushing.

"You should return to the Executive Dome. You only have a little while to prepare…"

"I'm not going."

"Leia…"

"I mean it. She doesn't need me now. She's handing over her office, not swearing into a new one. Besides…" Leia trailed off, staring down at her father's desk. "I'm looking for something."

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She was no Jedi, not even Force-sensitive, but the pull of kindness in his touch was almost tangible. Reluctantly, she turned to look up at Obi-Wan's worried face.

"If it's information about your father, you're looking in the wrong place."

Leia pressed her lips firmly together. "I'll be the judge of that."

"No, I will be. Because I knew him, Leia."

"Yes, I know. You've told me-"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Not Bail. I knew your father. Your real father."

Leia drew in a sharp breath, and for a moment, all she could hear was her own blood rushing behind her ears.

In the distance, the door to the study slammed shut and Obi-Wan started.

"Leia…"

She blinked, staring at him as if she was just waking from sleep. "How did you…?" she whispered.

"I've known your mother and your father… both your fathers, for a long time, Leia Naberrie Organa."

Leia licked her dry lips. "I only just found out… Weeks ago…"

"How did you find out?"

She fluttered her hands impatiently. "A note. It led me to a bloodline result. The name was redacted but I ran a test myself. Used my father's – Bail's – genetic signature from his bio-records. It wasn't a match. Not even close."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "That's highly classified."

Leia's eyes flashed. "Shove the scolding for later. Tell me about my father."

His eyes were grave. "Go for the Inauguration."

"Tell me now!" she shouted. In the distance, she could hear the sound of something falling.

Obi-Wan looked alarmed. "What was that?"

It took her a while to come out of her impatience to realize he was reacting to the sound. "Perhaps a service droid is malfunctioning. Obi-Wan, please."

His face was kind – but resolute. "Come for the ceremony, Leia, and I promise, afterwards, I will listen to your questions."

And before she could utter a word in protest, he was gone.

She curled her hands into fists and let out a scream. She could almost hear it echo through the house, through the distant sounds of things shattering and breaking apart.

There was nothing in her father's office. No clue whatsoever that he ever knew she wasn't his, or that he knew the identity of the man who spawned her.

There was nothing in his private rooms, either. Or her mother's. Or her mother's study.

Her quest to Cantham House had yielded nothing.

Leia went into her own old childhood chambers, to the faucets in the bath-area and dosed her hot head with cold moisture.

When she finished and was reasonably calm, she stared at her drenched face pensively.

Of course, the obvious thing to anyone else was to confront her mother. As much as Leia despised Amidala, she would be very surprised if the woman didn't know the father of her child.

But that option was out of the question for obvious reasons.

So she would go to this Inauguration, despite all her vows never to support her mother publicly again. And afterwards, she would make Obi-Wan Kenobi tell her everything or, Jedi Master or not, he would pay.

She turned off the still running faucet and returned to her room.

Like the rest of the house, it was full of memories, of ghosts.

She ran her fingers over the duvets on the bed, the intricate embroidery of Naboo and Alderaani folktales. Stared at the holo-potraits of her beloved childhood icons. Most of them were also Naboo, and Alderaani with a few of the contemporary Coruscanti. It crossed Leia's mind to wonder if her biological father had been Naboo or Alderaani. Or if there was a whole aspect to her bloodline that was a complete mystery to her.

What if he had family too? She could have brothers and sisters out there somewhere, that she had never known.

People that she could meet. Could belong to, in a way that she had never quite belonged to her mother or father. As for the man himself, Leia dared not hope he was alive.

It was too much hope and she had learnt in life not to have much of that.

"Princess."

She turned to look at the golden protocol droid that she had brought along.

"What Threepio?"

"It's a few hours to the Ceremony. Are you sure you're not going?"

Leia sighed. "I am going, Threepio. Get the transport ready, will you?"

The droid practically beamed. "At once, Princess."

Leia snorted. At least someone was excited.

She gave her room one last look – who knows when next she'd ever come here? Her mother planned to retire in Naboo – when her eyes caught the family portrait over her bed.

She walked over to stare at it.

There was her father, tall, strong, a warm presence whose absence affected her to this day. Her life had changed irreparably since he died, and left her to the loving care of the cold, political robot that was Amidala.

But in the image, Amidala did not look like the cold woman she was. She was smiling, her beautiful face open and gentle in a way that Leia had no real-life memory of. Had her father's death affected Amidala so badly? Or was she acting in this picture as she acted in everything in life?

Leia shook her head, then stared at her own face. Pigtails curled into buns on either side of her head, clutching her beloved toy wookiee stuffed toy. Leia snorted. Dear Pruebacca. She wondered where she was. She won't ever be able to get a replacement. At least not legally. They weren't made anymore – Kashyyyk had petitioned for a ban of these a few years after the picture was taken.

She gave her family one last look over, then with a heavy sigh, she turned to go.

Threepio was just outside the door. "Did you get everything you wanted, Princess?"

Leia sighed. "I'm afraid not, Threepio."

"Oh dear," he sounded woebegone. "Perhaps if you told me, I could be of help?"

Leia chuckled. "I don't think so, Threepio."

He looked crushed, and she immediately felt guilty. She knew it was irrational to think that the droid had feelings. She knew, intellectually, that he was only following his programming. But a part of her could not shake the conviction that the droid had a personality of his own, feelings and emotions. And she had just hurt them.

"It's nothing important, Threepio." A thought crossed her mind. "I wanted to Pruebacca. My old Wookiee doll but I couldn't-"

"Oh, I know where she is!" Threepio said at once, delighted to help. "I personally supervised the packing of your room at your departure. I wanted to bring her along but your mother advised me not to."

"Oh did she?" Leia seethed, not in the least surprised. "Do you know where she is?"

"I'll get her right away."

Pleasantly surprised, Leia waited as Threepio went into her room and returned almost at once with the old, raggedy doll in his arms.

Leia squealed with delight as she took her. "Wow! She's just as I remembered."

The huge doll was worn, the quaint stitching worn and barely holding in place the soft fabric and electronics buried inside it. But she was also warm, heavy in Leia's arms, and as she hugged Pruebacca, Leia felt like if all the memories and ghosts that had been floating around her since she stepped into this house, sank into her skin through the hug.

She burst into tears.

"Oh my Princess!" Threepio sounded alarmed. "I was only trying to help. Oh dear, I'm such a stupid droid-"

He went on berating himself, and Leia was sobbing too hard to make him stop. After a while, she got hold of herself enough to shake him to a stop. "Stop it, Threepio. I mean it. I'm happy. You made me happy."

He didn't seem convinced, its golden arms flapping frantically. Leia reached for them – when Threepio worked himself into a state, it was an ordeal to calm him back down – when one of his digits caught Pruebacca, slipped through her worn stitches and ripped her open.

The doll split as if she had been skewered, and stuffing and mechanotrics spilled out like organs and blood.

Leia shrieked as if it was her own flesh that had been torn.

"Oh my Maker!" Threepio shrieked. "My Princess, I am so sorry! You shall have me scrapped now for good."

Leia fell to her knees beside the doll, numbly trying to gather its pieces together.

Threepio bent to help her and Leia stretched out her hand.

Later, when she thought it over, she was never quite sure if she touched the droid or not. Threepio insisted that she did. But Leia was sure that she had only raised her hand to ward him off.

Whichever it was, it might as well be a blow because the droid flew back, all the way down the corridor and smashing to the ground.

"Threepio, are you OK?" She cried, looking up from Pruebacca's remains in alarm.

"I'm OK, Princess!" the droid calling, groaning as he stood up slowly. "Built for endurance by the very best, as you know."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't… did I…?"

"It's OK, Princess. You were quite upset. I think I'll… I'll just go down and tell the transport to wait a little. And get a droid to help you with your doll."

Shuffling away, Threepio turned the corridor and left.

Still confused, Leia looked down at Pruebacca. There was nothing to be done. The doll was broken beyond repair.

Leia wiped away the last of her tears. It was ridiculous getting so upset about a long-abandoned doll. It was better this way. Let Pruebacca, and whatever was left of her, remain in this house with the rest of the old ghosts.

With a sigh, she stood up, glancing around at the mess that had been inside the doll. Already she could hear the clickity sound of a service droid approaching. In moments, it would be as if nothing happened. She was about to turn and leave, when her eyes caught something shiny.

She stared.

And stared again.

Underneath the fluff stuck to it, she could see the glimpse of black and silver and although she had never seen any that was curved in this way, she recognized it at once.

All the same, she walked to it with disbelieving eyes and until she had picked it up, her fingers curling around the grip as if she had held one a thousand times, felt the weight and the energy pulsing from within it… Only then did she believe it.

This was a lightsaber.

A lightsaber that had come from within her old doll.

A/N: It's been 84 years...