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The rebel base was nothing like her old life but there was a routine to it. A routine that would only change whenever they would run a mission which would have her sitting or standing at the command center for hours unless her son was on a mission as well. During that, there would be pacing around, wringing her hands nervously waiting for him to get back home.
She was used to this routine no matter how many times she changed bases. Her duties were to speak to leaders of other bases, communicate with their members on the Senate and gather intelligence from their spies. Occasionally, she would join in for a mission or so but over the years, she decreased those as she took on a more of a role to direct people in these missions from their base.
She knew her part in the Rebellion.
Speaking to an enemy wasn’t part of it.
Speaking to an Inquisitor, especially the one who less than two months tried to kill her son, was not her duty and neither did she want it. Seeing her son unconscious and pale, bleeding out as Han carted him off the Millennium Falcon while shouting for a medic still haunted Padme.
(She had sat by his bed for hours after that. Joined by Han, who smiled awkwardly as Padme hugged him, and Obi Wan who silently took the other side of Luke’s bed and held his other hand, never looking away from her son as if he was terrified he would vanish should Obi Wan look away.
Some days, her own grief and pain made Padme forget that everyone Obi Wan has ever loved is gone.
His Master, the Order, Satine, and… Anakin.
He loved Luke fiercely. Luke had inherited many of Anakin’s qualities. His bravery and determination. His eyes and hair. And Obi Wan’s love.
No matter how it pained Padme that it was Obi Wan who took the life of Luke’s father.)
The point remains that speaking to an imprisoned Inquisitor was not part of her duty. They had others to deal with it.
But Padme learned that she would only speak to her and Luke. So she was sent to her holding cell to find out what she knows and then decide her fate.
Luke waited outside the holding cell, a sheepish smile on his face.
Padme didn’t know whether she wanted to cry in relief that he looked unharmed or scream at him for running out of the base without informing her. Only a month ago he was hooked up, barely awake and coherent. Now, he was running off to find the girl who tried to kill him. Twice.
“Before you say anything,” Luke said as soon as he saw her, a sweet smile on his lips that he used since he was a child to get out of trouble, one that reminds her so much of Anakin. “I had to go. It was a feeling. From the Force.”
Screw the Force.
On some days, she hated that she let Obi Wan teach him to be a Jedi.
(“He should be trained.”
“He is too young.”
“If not now then later. One day, he has to be trained.”
“Like you trained Anakin?”
Padme felt guilt in an instant. Obi Wan went silent, his face falling.
They didn’t speak of that again.
Luke soon joined Obi Wan with his meditation.)
But perhaps some of the blame lay on her as well for regaling him with tales of his father from his Jedi days. Other stories he heard from those around him who met Anakin years ago. Luke was his father’s son. He was determined to be a Jedi like him. To honor Anakin’s legacy.
(And in her heart, Padme was glad of that. Glad it was that legacy Luke knew and honored.
Glad that he would never know of the blood of innocents that was shed due to Anakin.)
“We will speak of this later.” was all she said.
Luke winced but nodded. He knew that he would get a good scolding later.
Padme waved her access card for the door to open.
Inside was a sterile, barren room with only a cot. The cot was empty and the room seemed to be unharmed, no sign of a violent meltdown like she expected. And sitting on the floor facing the doorway was their prisoner.
She had her clothes on but was thoroughly checked to see if she carried anything. Her lightsaber was taken. She was silent through the whole ordeal, from what Padme learned, and the only time she reacted violently was when someone made a move to take her mask.
Now she was here, her hands shackled with a rare Force nullifying shackles (the only one they managed to procure), with her mask, a familiar one that she’s seen in enough holos by now except for the thin red streak running in across the middle now, silently observing Padme and Luke.
Padme was prepared to face her vitriol. Her screams or taunts. Anything.
“He was right. There are similarities but I think you’re prettier.”
She didn’t expect that. Nor did she expect her to sound so… young.
Padme blinked and frowned.
“What do you want from us?” Luke asked, crossing his arm and glaring at her.
“To see you two.” She replied.
“Checking on whether your attempt on my life succeeded?” Luke snarked.
“No.” She shook her head. “I just… I wouldn’t have hurt you. I didn’t know who you were. I’m sorry. You must know I would never hurt you if I knew who you were.”
She sounded desperate. Pleading as if she truly meant what she said.
Padme doubted it. She knew of this Inquisitor. Came to power two years ago and already made her way to the top by climbing over the corpses of bodies she slaughtered. Her fail rate was near zero and countless innocents died by her hand. Including young Jedis who survived. She would have killed Luke without mercy.
“You expect us to believe you would have spared my son had you known who he was?” She asked skeptically.
“Yes.” She answered simply. “You’re a Skywalker. Of course, I would have spared you.”
Beside her, Luke scoffs but Padme’s heart drops.
Skywalker. She would have spared him because of his name. How she knew his name was not the problem here but that she would leave him be. She had no reason to do that unless…
“Did Palpatine order you to do that? Spare Luke and take him?”
He couldn’t get Anakin. Now he would try to get Anakin’s son. He wants Luke to do what Palpatine couldn’t make Anakin do.
She snorts. “Palpatine? As if. I doubt he knows who you are. At least, not yet. Things don’t stay hidden from him for too long.”
She stays silent and then Padme can hear her smile as she says, “Well, not everything.”
“What do you want? Why give yourself up?”
That was… news. Padme doesn’t glance at Luke. She would question him later on why he brought in someone who was willing to be their prisoner.
“As I said before,” she sighs as if this whole ordeal was exhausting. “I wanted to meet you two. I wanted to see what you two were like.”
“Why?”
“Curiosity. I only heard stories of you. I wanted to see if you were like the stories said you were. You sort of are. Prettier though. But perhaps I am biased.”
“Who the hell are you?” Luke scowled at her. “What do you want?”
“I’ve already stated what I want. Twice, I believe.” She leans back against the wall. “As for who I am…hmmm… you met me before.” She nodded at Padme.
Padme blinks, surprised. “I don’t remember you.”
“Maybe if you take off the mask she’ll know.” Luke interjected sarcastically.
She thought the Inquisitor would refuse angrily but she was silent as if contemplating his request before slowly raising her hands to her face.
“I was named from a story.” She says slowly as her hands work to untie her mask. “Not a story from Naboo, though I read many of those growing up. I was always curious to learn more about Naboo. My mother was from there you see?”
A soft hissing sound filled the room as her mask loosened and she grabbed it with her hand and pulled it off.
“But I was named after a child of the desert. A dragon really. Daughter of the trickster.”
Dread pooled in her stomach. She could say nothing when she heard that.
She could barely hear anything over the pounding in her ears as the mask was off and Padme faced the Inquisitor.
A girl.
With familiar brown eyes looking up at her and smiling joyfully.
Padme sways and Luke rushes to catch her.
He said she felt familiar. The last time he fought her, he said she looked familiar.
Of course she did.
Those were her eyes. Her hair.
“You know me.” She said, her smile soft.
“Mom?” Luke asked softly.
Padme’s whole body shook.
“You know who I am.”
Padme couldn’t look away. She stared at the girl in front of her.
At her daughter.
“Leia.” She whispered.
Her voice seemed to echo around the room. Luke only held her tighter.
Leia’s smile widened.
“It’s nice to see you mom.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
Padme stared at the cup of tea in her hand. Luke had practically carried her out of the room once Leia called her mother. Padme’s legs had given out and Luke dragged her away, shouting behind them to not let anyone near the Inquisitor.
Leia.
Her daughter. Her baby.
“What would I say?” She croaked.
“I don’t know?” he ran his hand through his hair, a nervous tic of his. “Maybe that I have a sister?”
Padme clutched the cup tightly.
“I thought she was dead.” She whispered.
“Dead?”
Padme stayed silent, staring down at the steaming cup in her hand. Her hands were burning now but she couldn’t pull them away. It was the only source of warmth she felt right now.
Luke waited.
“Yoda suggested separating the two of you after you were born was safer. I refused. I already lost… I couldn’t lose you two. Not after everything. We agreed we would go away. The three of us and Obi Wan but first we’d meet on Alderaan. Decide from there where to go.”
Padme raised the cup and took a sip.
“Master Yoda traveled with me. I was weak after everything. He stayed by my side by the chance that the Empire found me. Obi Wan took you. Your Force signature was loud even as a baby. He was the one masking it.”
Obi Wan, the protector since the start.
“And Leia,” her voice wavered, tears pooling. “She was taken by Bail. Bail would fly with her on a different ship so that if anyone stopped them, he could claim that Leia was his daughter. The safest option out of all except they never made it to Alderaan. Her force signature was still weak. Barely present as if she was already shielding herself.”
She remembers that week. Reuniting with Luke and waiting for Bail and Leia who never arrived. Going mad with worry as she paced down the Palace of Alderaan. Holding onto Luke tightly with Breha by her side as they both worried for Bail and Leia.
By the end of the week, Bail was found and brought in. His ship had crashed and he was barely clinging onto life.
Everyone else on board was dead.
Including her daughter.
“I thought she died.” She gasped, tears dripping down her face now while Luke stared at her with pain.
“I couldn’t tell you about it. How could I? How could I tell you that I was responsible for Leia’s death?”
“Mom.” Luke whispered, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands.
His hands were so warm and soft. Even after years of practicing with the lightsaber, his hands remained soft.
“You didn’t kill her.”
But she did. It was her fault. She was Leia’s mother. She was meant to protect her. Her only daughter. Anakin’s daughter.
( With a kick that hard? It’s a girl.
Father’s intuition.
Fine. You name the boy and I name the girl.
Leia. She was Ekkreth’s daughter. I want to name her Leia. So that we remember our roots and what we survived.)
She felt like she had failed Anakin once more.
“She is alive.” Luke said.
Yes, she was.
And she was an Inquisitor.
Padme cried harder and her son wrapped his arms around her.
“She’s here, mom. That’s a start. We’ll start from there.”
Yes, she will. She failed Leia once. She will not fail her again.
The next day she walks back to the holding cell.
She is nervous. Her hands fisted. Her smile was so strained that even someone she rarely ever talks to asks her if she is okay.
She isn’t.
Her chest feels tight. Every intake of breath is harder than the last. She wants to call Obi Wan and ask him to come back. She wants to tell him about Leia and ask for his advice. She can’t trust anyone else here. Not even Mon. For now, Leia is simply a prisoner until Padme finds a way to help her.
She is biased.
But can anyone fault her for that?
That’s her daughter.
As long as there is even a sliver of chance of Padme helping her child she will grasp it. She will hold onto it.
She held onto that belief for Anakin. She knows given the opportunity she could have helped him. He’d have come back.
The doors are shut but the small window on it allows her to peak inside.
The knot in her chest unfurled. A smile bloomed on her lips.
Luke was sitting on the ground with Leia. He was talking to her animatedly, waving his hands around to explain something while Leia smiled so widely at him. Leia laughed at something he said, her head thrown back and Padme couldn’t hear her laugh but she imagined it. The clear sound of it, so carefree and happy. Like Anakin’s. She could hear it so clearly.
She didn’t walk inside.
Not yet.
She watched her children interact for the first time in years, strengthening her determination.
Her daughter was alive.
Somehow, she was alive.
She was laughing and her eyes were shining.
There was hope.
Padme was a creature of hope. You don’t build a better world without hope.
She stands outside the room, watching her children as she plants her own seeds of hope.