Anakin returned to the building at a run, his breath still ragged from the chase, but instead of darkness and silence, he found the entire place lit up and swarming with law enforcement droids and Jedi. They filled the room, scanning equipment, and flooding corridors with the hum of their mechanisms. The once-deserted makeshift hospital was now alive with official commotion. He cursed inwardly, grimacing as he stepped through the now-open doorway, his boots stepping over the half-melted remnants of the metal arch he'd cut through earlier.
He'd hoped for more time to compose himself before facing anyone. Right now, the thought of missing his chance to catch Tiaba was pressing in on him like a vice. Every moment she wasn't leading him to Padmé made him want to roar, to tear this building down around him until he was kneeling amidst the rubble. So many people were dead or suffering because of her… and he'd let her slip away.
For a moment, Anakin could almost feel the ghosts of Dormé, Teckla, Rabé, Eirtaé, and the others surrounding him – watching on silently. Their gazes felt heavy, their presence a judgment as yet another failure settled onto his sagging shoulders. The anger curdling deep inside him flared, seething as he lingered in that doorway, a dark and silent shadow among the crowd. Whatever happened to Padmé now – it was his fault. He'd failed her.
He'd failed them all.
That fury took shape, coiling into a demon of fire breathing smoke and hate into his heart. Anakin cradled every burning ember of it as if it were something precious as his resolve solidified like molten steel. Tiaba was going to pay dearly for all of this even if it was the last thing he ever did.
Daring a step further into the room, Anakin felt his heart seize as Obi-Wan emerged from behind a cluster of police droids and strode toward him, grim-faced. His hand settled heavily on his shoulder, fingers squeezing in quiet empathy. "What happened here?" He asked.
Swallowing hard, Anakin fought to maintain his grip on control – but it felt like trying to hold a fistful of sand. It wasn't enough to bear the weight of his failures; now he had to look his Master in the eye and explain them too… The shame burned hot, scorching through his resolve. "Tiaba was here,' he growled, his teeth clenched as if trying to hold the words back. "I almost had her, but… she slipped away. She's gone." He forced himself to meet Obi-Wan's gaze, noticing the pale pallor that seemed to age his friend by decades.
Obi-Wan's shoulders sagged as pure dread polluted his force signature, setting off alarms blaring within him. What could have made him this upset? He knew that he and Padmé were friends, but he hadn't seen his former Master this worked up about her disappearance yet. The older Jedi opened and then closed his mouth again as if words failed him. Anakin watched as Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder at the others gathered behind him, his dulled eyes lingering there for a moment before reluctantly meeting his once more.
"Did… did you look around at all, Anakin? Truly look?" He said carefully.
"There was no time," He snapped, frustration beginning to bleed into his tone. "I had to chase her before – "
Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly, agony etched in every line of his face. "I… I'm so sorry."
Anakin's blood ran cold. What the hell was he talking about? What was there to be sorry for? Without waiting for another word, he shoved past Obi-Wan, heart hammering with fresh panic. Jedi Masters and droids parted for him, exposing the grisly scene to the Jedi's unprepared eyes.
Blood.
All over a metal bed, thick, dark pools stained the sheets, the frame, the floor... Kriff, there were splatters on the force-damned wall. Four metal cuffs were attached to the bed's railing, hanging empty off the edges, abandoned blades and scalpels and so much blood. Anakin's eyes locked on the scene as everything around him faded away to nothing. The roaring between his ears drowned out Obi-Wan's whisper of somewhere behind him. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt like it was closing in on itself. He tried to speak and found he had no voice. Despite his best efforts, hot tears blurred his vision and his legs suddenly felt shaky. If that was Padmé's blood… if she had been cuffed here and wounded that badly…
A dizzy wave of nausea rolled through him. She was pregnant. How could she possibly survive injuries like that? How could anyone?
Anakin forced himself to tear his eyes from the blood-streaked bed, but the image refused to leave his mind. It was burned into his very soul, he'd never unsee or forget it for as long as he lived. Tears burned hot and unstoppable, sliding down his cheeks as horror and fury warred in his chest. He barely felt Obi-Wan's hand on his arm. "Anakin," he murmured. "We'll find her."
But Anakin could only stare at the bed, overwhelmed by the sudden dreadful thought that maybe there was nothing left to find.
His knees buckled as he stared again at the blood-soaked sheets and a strangled sound tore from his throat. His mind became tormented by visions of Tiaba and Sian Kiles wielding those scalpels on Padmé. Of his beloved, bound in those cuffs, helpless, bleeding, crying out for him... and he hadn't come. The thought of a child caught in the carnage made his stomach twist and another wave of nausea threatened to overtake him.
Unable to stand it, he half-collapsed forward, shoulders heaving under the weight of shock and remorse, but Obi-Wan caught him around, pulling him upright. His former Master's patient strength was the only reason he remained on his feet at all. Potent rage coursed like fire in his veins and for a moment Anakin wished more than anything that he had caught Tiaba and ripped her apart limb by limb. A merciless flash of pure hatred shot through him. He wanted her to suffer, to feel every ounce of agony she had inflicted and more. He didn't care if revenge wasn't the Jedi way or if it was a gateway to the dark side. He wanted vengeance.
"I can't…" he managed in a trembling voice, hatred and heartbreak tearing his soul apart. If Padmé was gone… if their baby was gone before he'd even had a chance to know about it… What did anything matter anymore? The war could rage on and destroy the galaxy for all he cared. Let the Sith rule. Let them burn everything. This galaxy didn't deserve to go on without her in it. And neither did he. This was all his fault. He should have protected her! He should have been faster, been stronger… been better.
"You can," Obi-Wan promised quietly, gripping him even tighter, his voice steady and filled with sorrowful compassion he couldn't stand to hear right now. "I know you can, Anakin, because I did. And you're a better Jedi than I could ever hope to become."
Those words, the validation Anakin had ached for as a Padawan now felt hollow. He didn't feel strong or worthy of Obi-Wan's belief. If only he knew the truth – then he'd understand the weight of his failures. He felt weak, enraged and helpless. If Padmé and his child were truly gone, Anakin wanted nothing more than to follow them into death's cold embrace. And he would, but first, there would be a reckoning. Tiaba and her husband would pay in blood for what they'd done.
Trying to swallow past the lump in his throat, he felt tears hot on his cheeks never mind that anyone could see him. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing raggedly against the maelstrom inside him. Death, despair, guilt and beneath it all, a ferocious vow – if there was a chance that Padmé and their child were still alive, he was going to find them. And if not, he would burn this planet to ash and drag the ones responsible to their graves by his very own hand.
They stood there, locked in a silent tableau of death and suffering – Obi-Wan's steady grip was the only thing keeping Anakin upright. Slowly, with great effort, he forced himself to breathe, to harness that seething rage threatening to consume him. Every inhalation fanned the ember of anger coiled tight within his chest, hardening it into unbreakable resolve. And as that fury gathered, it felt…good. Powerful. Fuel for his battered spirit. At last, he drew himself upright again, shrugging off his friend's support as his jaw set, tears drying on his cheeks. Obi-Wan watched him warily but let him go, taking a small step back.
"There's more," he said gently. "I know this has been difficult. I can continue without you if – "
"No," Anakin cut him off, his voice unsteady but determined. "I'm staying. What else could there possibly be?"
Obi-Wan hesitated, then inclined his head for Anakin to follow. The pair moved away from the dreadful sight of that blood-soaked bed, deeper into the facility, where several law enforcement droids stood gathered in a back room. As they entered, one droid stepped forward, carrying a small bundle in its mechanical arms – an infant, loosely swaddled in a cheap, threadbare blanket. The baby fussed softly, a thin wail echoing in the dim space.
Anakin's whole universe lurched. Obi-Wan's words becoming distant, "In the scuffle, Tiaba must not have had time to take the child…"
He could hardly process what was happening. All he could do was stare at that tiny, helpless little form in those cold, metal arms. Tentatively, his very soul-shaking, he reached out with the force, and what he felt nearly stopped his heart. The newborn's presence in the force was bright, brand new – an echo of Padmé's gentle spirit interwoven with something indescribably pure. Another broken sob nearly escaped him as realization struck.
This was Padmé's child. Their child.
The wave of emotions which washed over him was too great to contain – relief that the baby was here, alive, but also staggering grief that Padmé was nowhere to be found. That they'd been separated somehow and terror gnawed at him over what she might have suffered, yet, amid it all, Anakin was overwhelmed with gratitude that this tiny life had somehow survived. He took a shaky step closer, desperate to touch the baby, to hold them – to reassure himself of their existence. But a stern-faced Adi Gallia blocked his path. Without a word, she gently lifted the infant from the droid's arms, cradling the child carefully against her chest.
"I'm taking the child to be looked over by the temple healers," she said, adjusting her hold as the infant began to fuss, writhing and growing more and more upset.
Anakin snapped out of his daze, voice flaring with raw panic at the thought of the little one taken out of his sight, "No – you can't!" The feral shout echoed in the cramped room, drawing everyone's attention. He couldn't let her take the child – what if something happened while he wasn't there? He hadn't even met the baby! Adi couldn't take them – she couldn't! He inhaled sharply through his nose, fighting for composure in the sudden rush of panic sweeping over him. "I'll take the child to the temple," he said more quietly. The baby's cries were getting louder – they needed him! His heart was tearing in two with every unhappy tear the little one shed against the other Jedi's chest.
But Master Windu's deep voice broke through the tension, shattering his fragile hope. "No, Skywalker. I need you here with us."
Anakin's protest died on his lips as slowly, ripping his soul further from him, Gallia turned and walked away, taking his child out of his sight. He took a faltering step to follow, his breath hitching as devastation crashed over him. He could feel their departure – feel it as keenly as a blade slicing through his chest – and his heart shattered under the weight of it. His body betrayed him, shaking uncontrollably, sweat dripping down his neck as fury and despair swelled within him.
For one wild, searing moment, he had half a mind to knock Windu unconscious with the butt of his lightsaber and chase after Gallia before it was too late. But as the tremble in his hands turned violent, he slammed his eyes shut, choking back a cry.
He was torn – ripped in half as two great desires warred for dominance. Anakin's chest rose and fell rapidly as he was caught between this brand new, fierce desperation to go after his child and the grim resolve to find Padmé… or, something dark inside him muttered, to avenge her.
His gaze lingered on empty the doorway Adi disappeared through until Obi-Wan cleared his throat softly. Anakin finally tore his eyes away and lifted his eyes to meet his friend's. He had to control himself, there was still work to be done, a job that had to be finished before any peace of mind could be found with his child.
Anakin clenched his fists, struggling with the volcanic fury rippling inside him and the helplessness threatening to overwhelm. He was that child's father and Padmé's husband, and yet he felt powerless, forced to trust in the will of the force to guide him to the right path. At last, he gave a small, rigid nod, forcing his feet to remain in place instead of chasing after the child. Windu was right, for now, he needed to stay. He needed to do whatever it took to find Padmé and get to the truth of what had happened here.
Anakin caught Obi-Wan by the elbow, guiding him away from the others and the chaotic movement of law enforcement droids. Admitting the truth, even one small scrap of it, was dangerous – he couldn't risk outing himself now, not while everything was still so up in the air. But they needed to know who the child belonged to if they were going to launch a successful hunt. His voice wavered with urgency, pitched low so no one else could overhear just yet.
"Obi-Wan," he said, words tumbling out before he could calm himself. "There's something I need to tell you – something I learned before coming here."
The other Jedi regarded him with concern. "What is it?"
He briefly closed his eyes, forcing himself to speak the terrible truth out loud, reliving the memory all over again. "I met with Sabé – one of Padmé's closest confidants. She told me…" He hesitated, feeling a fresh twist of dread in his chest. "She told me that Padmé is… Padmé was pregnant at the time of her abduction."
Obi-Wan's face drew pale and he raised a trembling hand to his mouth. "You believe the child we just saw…"
Anakin nodded firmly, eyes tight with pain. "It's hers. I can feel it in the force. Padmé's presence is all over the youngling. It's unquestionable."
Obi-Wan's horror was plain as understanding blossomed on his exhausted expression. "By the force," he murmured, fingers pressing into his lips. "This changes… everything!" He drew a breath, swiftly composing himself. "I must inform the Council." In an instant, the older Jedi rushed away toward the cluster of Jedi Masters conferring in hushed voices, leaving Anakin momentarily alone with his turmoil.
Drifting into the next room, back to the chilling sight of the blood-soaked bed, those cuffs glinted darkly under the overhead lights. Bile rose in his throat at the idea of his Padmé being bound there. Suffering in ways he couldn't begin to imagine. Tentatively, he reached out and touched one of those cuffs with trembling fingertips, trying to open himself to the force, to summon the echoes of suffering still rippling around him.
Nothing.
A mixture of relief and disappointment flooded the Jedi at once. Relief that he didn't have to witness the pain Padmé had endured and disappointment that he hadn't gleaned anything crucial to save her. Swallowing hard, he stepped away and returned to where the Jedi Council members had gathered.
"I'm going to organize a search of the entire sector," he announced, voice rough but determined as all eyes turned to him. "I'll call in the remaining troopers from the 501st to join me, all that aren't still on Mandalore. If Tiaba and her husband dragged Padmé away from here, they can't have gone far if she's this badly wounded."
Master Ki-Adi-Mundi narrowed his eyes. "Is it wise to deploy troopers so broadly on such little information?"
Anakin's expression hardened with urgency. "With Tiaba escaping, they won't stay in one place for long. But Padmé – " His voice caught, "the senator may still be somewhere nearby. We can't waste time."
Mace Windu nodded, crossing his arms. "Very well, Skywalker. Proceed. But keep us informed."
"Yes, Master." Anakin wasted no more time. He turned on his heel, commlink in hand before he even exited the room. Swiftly, he keyed in the familiar codes, voice steeling with resolve as he relayed orders for his clone troopers to rendezvous in the surrounding streets. His breath came faster with every word. Hold on, Padmé, he thought, swallowing fear and rage alike. I'm coming for you. With that, he set off, driven by desperate hope that he wasn't already too late.
Tiaba's hands shook as she tried, unsuccessfully, to calm the howling baby in her arms. The cramped hotel room around them was dingy and stale, lit by a single flickering lamp but until the plan went ahead, it was the best their scraped credits could afford. The infant's cries cut through the dead air like a siren, unrelenting no matter how many times Tiaba rocked him, patted his back, or whispered soothing nonsense.
Sian paced back and forth, his dark gaze darting to the grimy window every few strides. "Shut that kid up!" He yelled, casting a glower in Tiaba's direction as one hand ran through his thinning black hair. His raised voice only seemed to upset the baby further, his cries growing in volume.
She pressed her lips into a tight line and clutched the baby closer. "I'm trying!" She snapped. "He's still shaken from what happened I think, but how do I know?" Tears lined her eyes, melting his frame into a cloud of slate grey before her. "You think I wanted this? Where were you when Skywalker cornered me back there?"
He stopped in his tracks and turned, voice low and furious. "Doing what I was told – hooking that bitch up to the new equipment!" His glare deepened. "That was never part of the original plan!"
Tiaba's jaw clenched with resentment. "I know it wasn't," she spat, rocking the baby in a desperate rhythm. "But he changed his mind. He wants her on that machine now, so we must follow his orders until the credits come in."
But Sian's face only twisted with anger, turning red and ugly in that way she hated. "Sure, but next time, you handle things properly so we don't have Jedi chasing us all over Coruscant! Now shut the kid up before I do!"
She tried to force a pacifier into the baby's mouth but he spat it out, wailing even louder. "Gah!" Tiaba choked on her own frustration, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. Why the hell people chose to squeeze these squalling things out willingly, she would never understand. How could they bear all the noise? "Be quiet, you're going to get us caught!" She hissed, "Shut up! Shut up!"
Sian resumed pacing, shaking his head. "The deal was for two infants. Now we've only got the one – how do you picture that going down?"
Tiaba glared up at him, panic surging into her frustration. "Don't remind me," she seethed. "I barely got out of there with him at all…"
Before he could reply, a shrill beep echoed in the cramped room, indicating an incoming transmission. They both froze, exchanging a tense look – there was only one being who could access the private channel… and now they had to face the music. Tiaba shifted the screeching crying baby to one arm and turned to activate the holo-projector perched on a rickety table.
The familiar figure materialized immediately, draped in a dark hood that concealed all but the faint outline of a wrinkled mouth. The flickering blue light cast warped shadows on the peeling wallpaper around the room. Tiaba swallowed as her stomach lurched. "I – I'm sorry, but he pursued me. They got their hands on the girl." She glanced anxiously at the restless child in her arms. "But I still have the boy, ready for delivery!"
A pause. The cloaked figure seemed to lean forward slightly, though no face became visible. "Disappointing news, indeed," came a low drawl. "Yet not entirely unexpected. All is not lost. If my machinations succeed, there may yet be a path to reunite the Skywalker progeny… under my guidance, of course."
Sian stepped up beside her, arms folded. "We're doing everything we can," he said, glancing irritably down at the bawling infant. "We just need – "
"That's enough," the figure interrupted, the tone still serene but dripping with dark authority. "I will contact you once I have the results of the midi-chlorian test. Keep the boy safe – and do not fail me again or neither of you will enjoy the consequences."
And with that, the hologram fizzled and vanished, plunging the dingy room back into half-darkness. Tiaba slumped, shaky and afraid, the baby's cries echoing through the stale, suffocating air. A furious thumping sounded against the wall behind the bed as the neighbour housed through the thin wall protested the child's squalls. Her husband stared at the empty spot where the transmission had been, knuckles white at his sides, while she rocked the child with a frantic desperation.
Failure was no longer an option.
A/N:Poooor Ani! :'( Why am I doing this to him?
Next time: Anakin meets his daughter and grapples with the weight of fatherhood, only to realize he's not the only one with a claim to her as Obi-Wan involves the Naberries.
