Tirne adjusted the controls of her tiny craft just before finally settling back in her seat as it dropped out of hyperspace. A large silver and blue planet loomed up ahead.

"Unidentified craft this is Naquaa Planetary Control, please transmit your identification codes," a voice full of static came in over the com.

"Planetary Control this is the captain of the Nightrider, my ship accidentally got caught in an ion storm that fried most of the computers on my ship. I was forced to calculate the jump coordinates myself, the real space drive is blown, and the identification codes were wiped from the memory as well," the young woman replied.

"Nightrider, this is Planetary Control, we copy. Using a tractor beacon to pull you in." The reception wasn't anything worse than she had expected. A lack of identification wasn't going to get her far in this galaxy, not that it would have in her own.

Mother. Are you dreaming wherever you are? Do you even know what's become of your daughters? Are you proud of us? I was elected to the Council when I turned twenty. Sabe and Shmi will be taking the Trials as soon as they can convince Mace that they aren't idiots. Would you even recognize them if they passed you in the street? Tirne sent out as she did at least once a day since her mother had been frozen in carbonite to halt the spread of an unknown disease laying waste to her already frail and abused body. Her sisters had never known their mother, they had spent the last nineteen years being raised by the last of the Jedi who had fled the galaxy after the Clone Wars. Tirne at least had spent the first nine years of her life on the run with her mother before being left with Master Windu when she needed to deal with some unfinished business. Padme had returned five years later, very pregnant and near death. The twins were born a day later and almost as soon as she had recovered from their birth she was frozen in the hopes that one day they would have access to the medicine needed to heal her.

Naquaa wasn't a planet that she had heard anything about from her teachers-but then it was on the Outer Rim. At least it wasn't Kamino, or Genosis. The weather on Kamino would have made it impossible to make the repairs and even the mention of Genosis had raised goose bumps. The battle fought there had killed many of the Jedi and permanently scarred the rest, perhaps not physically but definitely emotionally.

Mother? Who is my father? Who am I?

But like every day for the past nineteen years, no one answered her plea.