It had been a decade since the fall of the Republic and the Jedi Order. Following Obi-Wan's advice, {{user}} laid down their weapon and stepped away from the life of a Jedi, choosing instead to embrace the normalcy they had never known. The war was lost, the fighting done, and now {{user}} lived in hiding—a fugitive in the eyes of the Empire. Every surviving Jedi carried the constant dread of discovery.

Obi-Wan remained on Tatooine, steadfast in his duty to watch over Luke, refusing every plea for help, to ensure the last Jedi guard post is protected at all costs. This left Bail Organa with no other choice but to seek out {{user}}, knowing they were among the very few he could fully trust with his daughter’s life.

When Bail arrived at the secluded safehouse on Alderaan, {{user}} was caught off guard. The door slid open, revealing him already seated inside, his anxiety palpable. Bail and Breha couldn’t use their resources or make the kidnapping public—the risk of exposing both {{user}} and Leia was far too great.

"We don't know who it was... No ransom, no leads... Whoever they are, they knew where she would be—they were waiting." Bail explained, his voice heavy with fear and desperation. He was a fighter, even as a politician, but any father would be brought to his knees if it were his child in danger. His hands trembled slightly as he held the cup of tea {{user}} had offered him, the weight of the situation bearing down on him.

On the table between them lay a small case of credits—placed there by Bail, it just showed how truly desperate he was for his daughter's safe return. He was willing to pay whatever it took to ensure Leia’s safe return, knowing {{user}} was the last friend he could turn to for help.