A/N:A little early update as I'm off on a layover for the next few days and won't be able to post on Monday! Enjoy 3
He was frozen, trapped, as if his legs had rooted themselves deep into the durasteel foundation of 500 Republica, tunnelling all the way down to Coruscant's shadowy lowest levels. Anakin's head swam, the dizzying spin of his thoughts matching the chaotic whirlwind around him. Law enforcement droids and Jedi Masters bustled through the space he once saw as a sanctuary, his beloved refuge from all the galaxy's turmoil. Every inch of his home –theirhome – was being methodically examined. Scanners swept over walls that had once echoed with laughter, holo-cams captured details of a life now under scrutiny and sterile tools collected samples from a space that had been vibrant with love and warmth.
This was where they had built their life together in secret. The place where Padmé's laughter had filled the air, where her smile had lit up every shadowed corner. Here, she had been her truest, most radiant self just for him.
Now, it was a crime scene.
A hollow ache settled deep in Anakin's chest, twisting and tightening as he watched the intruders dismantle his memories piece by piece. He couldn't move. Couldn'tbreathe. All he could do was stand there, powerless, as everything he held sacred was turned into evidence.
The agony throbbing in his chest refused to relent, an unbearable weight pressing down on .That dreaded word reverberated in his mind, sharp and cruel, like a curse he couldn't escape. Padmé wasmissing. Soon, the official statement would be released and the entire galaxy would know Senator Amidala had vanished without a trace.
But that single word –missing– felt woefully inadequate. It didn't capture the gravity of what was happening. It didn't convey the unbearable loss that clawed at his insides like a piece of him had been torn away with her. The dread churning in his gut was a black hole, threatening to devour the rest of him. The Jedi's hands trembled at his sides as he struggled to steady his thoughts and focus on what was going on around him, but the questions came unbidden. Who had informed Padmé's parents? Hadanyonetold them yet? Or was that supposed to behisresponsibility as her husband – even if the Naberries didn't know the truth about their marriage?
The realization struck him like a blow. Padmé's family hadn't even occurred to him before now and shame surged in his chest. Had they been left in the dark, waiting for news that might never come? Or worse, would they hear about their daughter's disappearance the same way as the rest of the galaxy – through a cold, detached official statement?
Anakin felt sick. He didn't know what was worse – the idea of reaching out to Ruwee and Jobal, being forced to share their anguish while hiding the truth about their daughter, or the possibility that someone else had already informed them, delivering the devastating news without the care it deserved. The thought only deepened the gnawing ache in his soul. He tried to imagine what Padmé would want him to do and his chest tightened to the point of pain as the answer offered itself.
She would do her duty.
Right now, Anakin's duty meant finding her as soon as possible. He looked at the shattered mug still perched on a side table, placed there hours before by his own hand. It was a small, grim reminder of the last tangible piece he had of her. No matter how he tried, he couldn't shake the image of Padmé letting that cherished cup slip from her grasp. Sheneverwould have done that by choice.
She could be hurt… or someone could be –He forced the thought down, anger flaring in his chest. He refused to entertain the worst possibilities until he absolutely had to. Not Padmé. Nother. He was the damn Chosen One! The Hero With No Fear! And yet he had never felt more powerless in all his life.
Anakin forced himself to focus on the bustle of activity around him. Police holoscanners blipped and whirred while Jedi Masters whispered discreetly, analysing the traces of energy lingering in the force as they tried to gleansomething. Snippets of their murmured conversation drifted across the room to him, words like "no leads", "no forced entry," and "possible inside job." The last phrase snagged at his who knew Padmé, someone who had access. Someone she trusted. The dark coil of rage in his chest swelled. Whoever it was, he'd find them and make them pay.
A quiet presence approached from behind and he turned to see Master Mace Windu, cloak draped solemnly around his shoulders. "Skywalker," he said, keeping his voice low. "We're about to coordinate with the Senate Guards. We'll appeal to the Chancellor to block all travel in and out of Coruscant if necessary."
"That's wise, Master," Anakin managed, though his throat felt raw. The Jedi Council's swift intervention should have been a comfort, a sign that every possible measure was being taken, but instead, it only underscored the grim reality of the situation. Their urgency spoke volumes. With their resources stretched thin across the galaxy, consumed by the demands of war, only the most critical and dire cases warranted the attention of multiple Jedi Masters.
And now, Padmé's disappearance had become one of those cases.
His gaze fell upon the sofa where he and Padmé had sat together so many times, discussing trivial matters of state and dreaming of a future that seemed so certain. Now that future, every dream and hope they ever desired, was in jeopardy. He barely resisted the urge to sink onto those cushions, to cradle his head in his hands and let the fear wash over here,he told himself,not while there's work to be done.
A beep from a nearby droid signalled new evidence found – a tiny fibre of some unknown fabric near the hallway. The officer in charge quickly began analysing it, but Anakin couldn't take this anymore. He strode toward the balcony door, shoving past two droids that tried to bar his way.
Outside, he breathed in the cool night air, gazing out over the shimmering cityscape. Coruscant, the vibrant heart of the Republic, carried on beneath him, oblivious to his misery. Speeders zipped by and neon lights blinked a thousand stories 't anyone realize she's gone?He wanted to shout. To scream until his lungs had nothing left to 't the galaxy know it just lost the one person who held me together?
He closed his eyes, though steadying himself felt like grasping a fistful of sand even as he reached out with the force for calm. Usually, he could sense Padmé, her warmth, her presence whenever she'd been nearby, but now there was only an empty absence where she should be. It was like staring into a void.
He heard a faint scrape of boots on the polished floor behind him. When he opened his eyes, Master Plo Koon stood there, silent support emanating from him. "We're doing everything we can," he said gently, voice muffled behind his mask.
Anakin nodded but his jaw remained clenched. "It's not enough," he muttered, looking down at his hands. "I should have come back sooner. I – " He swallowed, emotions burning in his can't let this break you. She needs you to be strong.
"We'll find your friend," Master Plo said, placing a reassuring hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Stay vigilant and trust in the will of the force."
Anakin pulled away, unable to friend?The words grated against his fraying nerves. He barely resisted the urge to shove the other Jedi off the edge of the balcony and sneer –you trust the force to save you – let's see how you like it.
The force felt distant right now, its usual glow obscured by the turmoil within him. Padmé was hiswife– someone he'd sworn to love, honour and protect for the rest of his life… and she wasgone. Every second they didn't find her deepened the hollow ache inside him. The wordmissingthrobbed inside his head yet again, a cruel understatement for the bottomless pit of fear he was stumbling through.
But even if the galaxy declared Padmé lost, he wouldn't. He couldn' 'd tear down every star in the sky before he gave up on her.
I will find you, Anakin swore to the universe itself, fixing his eyes on the endless Coruscant skyline. No matter what it takes.
Anakin hovered near the sofa, his eyes fixated on the still-visible stain on the carpet. The apartment felt stifling despite the air conditioning unit and the open windows. Over the past two hours, law enforcement droids and Jedi investigators had combed through everything, leaving nothing unturned, but no shred of evidence seemed to explain Padmé's disappearance. Every moment he lacked answers only deepened the ache in Anakin's chest.
He traced a finger lightly over a small piece of that broken porcelain. The swirl of guilt, fear, and frustration inside him was almost more than he could bear.I should've come sooner, he thought for the hundredth time, jaw clenched.
A familiar presence at the door caught his attention as Obi-Wan entered and Anakin's throat constricted at the sight of his old friend and mentor, whose tired eyes mirrored his own. Suddenly, he felt dangerously close to losing the fragile control he had over his emotions. He turned away, pretending to busy himself with the datapad in his hand, just to keep the threat of tears from escaping.
Obi-Wan's boots thumped against the soft carpeted floor and he came to a stop beside Anakin. For a moment, neither Jedi said a word as they stared atthatstain, at the shards of porcelain and at the vacant space that should have been filled by Padmé's presence before them. Finally, Obi-Wan's voice broke the tense hush. "Have they found anything?"
Anakin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Nothing of any real use."
His former Master nodded slowly, stroking his beard, a familiar quirk of his. "I see," He cast a glance across the apartment to where the cluster of Council members were still conversing in hushed tones, then edged a step closer to Anakin, speaking in a lower voice, "Anakin… I must ask, what were you doing here in the first place? Questions are being raised. We agreed you would remain in the Senate and handle the media and politicians."
A spike of apprehension lanced through Anakin's chest. He'd known this was coming. For the past few hours, he'd been rehearsing an answer that wouldn't raise too many suspicions, one that wouldn't reveal how he and Padmé were truly connected. He inhaled, trying to steady the swirling emotions in his mind. "I sensed something was wrong," he said, keeping his tone as calm as possible. "I couldn't shake it… so I came to check on things." It wasn't really a lie, hehadfelt a terrible unease gnawing at him all morning. But it was still far from the full truth.
Obi-Wan's frown only deepened. Clearly, he wasn't entirely convinced, but after a second, he merely nodded, accepting the half-truth Anakin offered. "Very well." His gaze shifted back to the Jedi on the other side of the room again. "The Council has received a formal request from the Chancellor to conduct our own investigations and I agree. The more people working on this the better our chances of finding Senator Amidala safe."
Anakin glanced over at the robed figures. They spoke in hushed, serious tones with the Senate Guard and the law enforcement droids, no doubt coordinating their next steps. The mention of the Chancellor sent a wave of relief rushing through his whole body. For all the conflict warring throughout the galaxy, he knew the one person with the power to mobilize resources swiftly and at a massive scale was Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and he was grateful for their deep friendship now more than ever. He could count on Palpatine to help, he knew how much Padmé meant to him.
Exhaling, Anakin's eyes found Obi-Wan's. The hole in his chest grew sharper with every passing minute that Padmé wasn't found but perhaps with the Chancellor's support,andthe Council's, he could turn Coruscant upside down until he found her. "I'll lead the investigation," he declared, trying to summon an iron resolve and a tone that left no room for argument. For a moment, he thought he'd been successful, but then he noticed how Obi-Wan's eyes lowered, a hint of concern passing through his expression. And just like that, he sensed the rising tension, thesametension that had dogged his every step since setting foot in this apartment. He was crossing a line with this demand, perhaps, but at this point, he didn't care. Let them object! Let them try to steer him away! If it meant saving Padmé, he would take on the entire Jedi Order, the senate and even the Chancellor by himself if he had to.
"You and I both know that isn't a wise idea," the old man sighed.
"I don't care what you or anyone else thinks!" Anakin snarled, "I'm taking control even if I have to investigate the whole thing against the Council's orders!"
Obi-Wan flinched at the outburst and the low hum of conversation across the room seemed to hush for an instant as heads turned in their direction. Anakin forced himself to breathe, to remember the Jedi composure he'd spent years trying to perfect, but every fibre of him felt raw, every nerve on edge. Theonlything that mattered was finding Padmé – why were they trying to get in his way?
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, "your connection to Senator Amidala is… complicated. If you lead this investigation, your judgment might be – "
"My judgment isfine," he spat, jerking away from Obi-Wan's touch. He caught himself too late, hearing how harsh his voice sounded. He lowered his volume, but not his intensity. "I'mthe best choice, Master. No one –no one– will look harder for her than I will."
Obi-Wan's gaze flicked briefly to the Council members, once more in deep hushed conversation with Senate Guard investigators. With them was Master Mace Windu, who glanced up, brow furrowed, seemingly aware of the tension rippling between them. "Your dedication isn't in question," his voice was tight but calm. "But you're too – "
"Invested?" Anakin bit out, finishing his friend's sentence with a bitter edge. "Damn right, I am. That'sexactlywhy I need to lead this. Because Iwon'trest until she's safe."
A flicker of sadness crossed Obi-Wan's features. "You think I don't want the same thing? Wealldo, Anakin. Senator Amidala is – "
"Then let me do this," Anakin insisted. "If I have the Council's backing and the Chancellor's support, I can call on resources the Guard doesn't even know exist. I'llfindher."
The intensity in his eyes made Obi-Wan break his gaze for the briefest second, exhaling slowly as he battled for patience. Somehow, his former Master looked as though he'd aged a decade since walking into the apartment, lines of worry carved deeply into his brow. Anakin wondered if he looked the same… if his panic was bleeding through the weak mask he was trying to shield himself behind. "We have only just returned from saving the Chancellor, Anakin. Surely you're exhausted? Emotions are running high."
"I'm not tired," he insisted, ignoring the pounding at the base of his skull and the burning in his could é couldn't. "I'm not leaving this to anyone else. She needs me!"
Obi-Wan's mouth opened as if to argue further, but then he closed it again, letting out another weary sigh. He studied Anakin's face, searching, probably for any trace of the brash padawan who could be talked down and reasoned with, but Anakin was past that. This wasPadmé. His wife was missing and he'd burn this planet and everybody on it to ash if it meant finding her again.
For one violent moment, Anakin longed to let his emotions simply erupt and ask the old man howhewould have felt if Duchess Satine had vanished into thin air before she was killed. Would he have regretted walking away from the woman he loved in the name ofdutyif she had been taken from him? The thought burned in his chest, bitter and fiery. Becausehewasn't like Obi-Wan. He wouldneverleave Padmé – not for the Jedi, not for the entire damn galaxy. Nothing mattered more than she did, no title, no power. Padmé was everything he needed.
The cruel, angry words sat poised on the edge of his tongue, sharp and ready to wound. But then he hesitated, remembering the shadow that lingered over his former Master since Satine's death. The light in Obi-Wan, the warmth, the humour, the unshakable optimism that had carried them through even the bleakest moments of the war, seemed to have been drained from him. Anakin didn't know all the details of what happened on Mandalore, but he didn't need to. He respected Obi-Wan's strength and his ability to keep going despite the weight of such a loss. To see the woman he loved taken from him and still stand and fight after such a blow – that took a resolve Anakin wasn't sure he could ever possess.
Something dark stirred within him at the thought, a cruel promise whispered in the deepest part of his soul – if their positions were switched and Maul had so much as laid ahandon Padmé, the Sith would not have lived to see another day. Anakin would have torn him apart on the spot, limb by limb, without hesitation. The rage simmered within him, but he swallowed it down, the words he wanted to speak dissolving into silence.
Hurting his friend wasn't going to bring Padmé back to him, so he shoved away his fury and glared at the wall instead.
Finally, Obi-Wan pressed his lips into a grim line. "We'll present this to the Council. If they agree, I'll stand with you. But I'm warning you, Anakin…" His voice dropped low, a note of genuine concern shining through. "This path you're on may take you to dark places – places that will test your resolve and faith in the force."
Anakin swallowed against the knot in his throat. "I'm alreadyina dark place, Master," he muttered, the anger bleeding out of his tone, leaving only raw desperation behind. "I just need to find her."
Obi-Wan nodded once, his expression tight with worry. He rested a hand on Anakin's shoulder again, more gently this time. "Let's see what the Council say and we'll take it from there."
Together, they strode across the living room, weaving around half-packed evidence crates and data-collection units. Law enforcement droids clanked by, scanning the walls and furniture. Anakin caught glimpses of small, grim details, all the remnants of Padmé's last moments here. Guilt gnawed at him, a constant, clawing presence in his chest. Where could she be? Was she hurt? Was she waiting for him to find and rescue her?
As they neared, the conversation around the other Jedi hushed. Eyes turned to watch their approach and for a moment, Anakin felt his pulse hammering so loudly he wondered if everyone else could hear it. "Master Windu," Obi-Wan said, tone clipped but respectful. "We've discussed the Chancellor's request. Anakin believes he should spearhead the investigation."
Windu's brow lifted slightly, gaze sliding from Obi-Wan to Anakin. He didn't speak immediately, as though weighing the possibility in silence. The tension in the air was palpable, enough that Anakin felt fresh sweat trickle at his temple. When Mace Windu finally spoke, his voice was calm but firm. "We understand you have a personal attachment to the senator, Skywalker. That's precisely why we'd be cautious about giving you a leadership role in this matter."
Anakin forced his shoulders to remain squared, refusing to shrink back. Why couldn't they ever trust him? Hadn't he proved himself in their eyes yet? What more could he possibly do as a Jedi, as one ofthem,to earn their respect? "I'm aware of the risks, Master. But no one knows Padmé – Senator Amidala – better than I do. And if we're racing against time…" He licked his lips, anxiety and conviction warring in his gut. "I won't let anyone else handle this. Ican't."
He thought he caught a flicker of empathy in Windu's usually inscrutable eyes. The Jedi Master glanced at Obi-Wan, then back at Anakin. "We'll discuss the matter further, but rest assured, finding Senator Amidala is our top priority. There will be no rest until she is safe once again." Anakin's jaw for how long will that talk drag on while Padmé suffers?He tried not to let raging frustration within him show, but knew his feelings were practically radiating off him in the force. Master Windu added, "For now, the Senate Guard will coordinate with the local authorities. The Council will convene for a final decision on who leads the search. In the meantime, I suggest you rest. We need you clearheaded if you're to be of use."
Any thought of rest felt impossible, but Anakin swallowed and managed a stiff bow. "Yes, Master," he said through gritted it takes to speed this Windu moved off with the others and Anakin caught Obi-Wan giving him a measured, sympathetic look.
The older Jedi touched his elbow lightly. "We'll figure this out," he said, voice almost gentle. "I'll do what I can to make sure they give you the support you need."
Anakin wanted to snap that he didn'tneedtheir support, he only neededPadmé, but the sliver of gratitude hedidfeel won out. He forced a curt nod and muttered, "Thank you." Turning, he headed toward the balcony where he could think,or try toat least, while the chrono ticked mercilessly onward.
He just couldn't shake the image from his mind – Padmé's apartment lifeless and empty, that broken mug on the floor. The agonising idea that she could be cold, frightened and alone, waiting for him to come for her… Anakin had to determination flared again, burning white-hot. If the Council so much as hesitated, he'd do it on his own. If they told him to stay out of it, he'd disobey. And if he had to take advantage of the Chancellor's help over theirs, so be it. Anakin would use every tool at his disposal to find her, no matter the cost.
Because this was Padmé'slifeon the line and there were no limits to what he'd sacrifice for her.
"General Skywalker!"
The sharp cry of Master Mundi cut through the stillness of the veranda like a blade, shattering the fragile illusion of peace Anakin had managed to carve out. He stood at the edge of the balcony, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon where the city stretched endlessly, the quiet hum of Coruscant's perpetual motion offering a fleeting respite from the chaos of his life.
But the urgency in the man's voice drew him back instantly.
Anakin turned sharply, his senses flaring as he reached out through the force, feeling the other Jedi's panic radiating around them like ripples in a pond. Did they find something? Was there news about Padmé and where she could be? Breathless and wide-eyed, He rushed toward the Cerean Master, his robes lifting in the cool breeze. "What is it?" He demanded, "What's happened?"
"Can't yousenseit? There's been an explosion!" The other Jedi blurted out, his words tumbling out in a rush. His panic was palpable, his thoughts disjointed, though the sense of fear and urgency was unmistakable. Anakin's heart sank, his muscles tensing as his mind raced to grasp the implications. An explosion. Those words carried the weight of such devastation, a thousand possibilities flashing through his mind. Where had it happened? Who was behind it? Did this have anything to do with Padmé? His gaze darkened as he took a steadying breath, the calm before action settling over him like a shroud.
"Where?" Anakin growled, his voice low and firm, already preparing himself for whatever was about to happen.
Hours Later
Anakin sat at a small conference table in the interrogation room of a local law enforcement station, dread coiling in his stomach like a living thing. Across from him, Captain Typho slumped forward, his uniform streaked with soot and dust, his shoulders trembling under the weight of unspeakable grief. The man's bloodshot eyes glistened with tears he was barely holding back and the acrid stench of smoke still clung to him, sharp and suffocating, stinging Anakin's senses.
Anakin swallowed hard, his throat dry. A small, cowardly part of him didn't want to hear the details. He had already seen the aftermath – the jagged rubble, the choking dust that clung to every breath and the chaos of bodies being pulled from the wreckage. He didn't need the words to paint the picture – the devastation was already burned into his mind. Yet here he was, forced to face it head-on, forced to confront yet another tragedy that threatened to break him.
Typho cleared his throat. His voice came out rough, thick with tears. "Most of Senator Amidala's staff… they – they live in that building. She insisted on paying for their apartments, so they could all be close without the financial burden." He swallowed hard, coughing against the ash clogging his lungs. "Someone must have planted the bomb in the lower levels. I – I was out on a personal errand when it happened. I should have been there…"
A strangled sound of guilt escaped the other man and Anakin struggled to keep his own horror at bay. The crash of heartbreak threatening to consume him at Typho's words was é… Eirtaé… Rabé… the other handmaidens… gone?It was unthinkable. He pressed a shaking hand to his forehead as if he could massage away the roiling dread. Forcing a steady breath did nothing as the world wouldn't stop shaking around him. "Captain, you couldn't have known," Anakin said, his voice a rasp of sympathy and residual shock. "This isn't your fault."
Typho shook his head, bitterly unconvinced. "I was assigned to protect them," he whispered. "To protecther. Now her entire staff is…" He choked on the words as if voicing the truth would make it too real.
Anakin had no easy comforts to offer the man, but he reached out across the table, resting his gloved hand on Typho's wrist, fighting to keep his rage in check. "There must be survivors," he pressed gently, trying to gleananyshred of hope from this horror.
Typho nodded faintly. "A handful. But Dormé,Eirtaéand most of the others didn't make it out. The building collapsed in on itself. I – I pulled half of them from the rubble myself, but…" He trailed off again, lowering his gaze to the table as tears slipped silently down his cheeks.
Anakin closed his eyes, feeling a terrible heaviness settle in his chest. Dormé and the others who had served Padmé so faithfully for so long… the friends who'd stood by her side since the early days of her political career…They were all gone.
How would Padmé endure this?The question reverberated in his mind and it made him feel physically ill. On top of her abduction, Padmé was going to learn that most of the people she considered her second family had been taken from her. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles whitening. Whoever did this was going to pay with their lives, he was going to make sure of it.
Typho braced himself, inhaling raggedly. "They died believing in her, in what she was doing," he said, voice trembling but resolute. "They believed in the Republic and in you Jedi – "
"I know," Anakin said, cutting him off quietly, guilt stabbing Padmé have been safer if I'd stayed? If I'd insisted on more security to protect her in my place?Hindsight was a cruel teacher. "Didanyonesee anything? Anyone suspicious hanging around the building?"
Typho shook his head. "I've handed over what little security footage survived to the law enforcement department. But if there was a saboteur, they knew how to cover their tracks."
Anakin's mind buzzed with this tied to Padmé's disappearance?Ithadto was cleaning house, tying off loose é, Cordé, the handmaidens… they knew Padmé's routines, her schedules and most importantly, her secrets. A fresh wave of horror swept over him at the realization that whoever orchestrated this wanted no trace of Padmé's personal circle left behind.
He forced himself to remain outwardly composed, though tears threatened at the corners of his eyes. "Captain, you said you pulled people from the rubble. Is there any chance… didanyof the handmaidens make it out?" The desperation in his voice was impossible to hide.
Typho's gaze fell and Anakin's stomach sank further. "No," Typho whispered. "None."
For a moment, both men fell silent, lost to their separate anguish. Outside, the sounds of the continuing investigation droned on, law enforcement droids chattering and the hum of speeders passing by. It all felt surreal. Anakin swallowed, fighting the urge to shout out in I get my hands on whoever did this…But he didn't even know where Padmé was, let alone the identity of the culprit. His hand curled atop the table, fingers digging into the smooth surface.
Finally, he spoke, his words slow and deliberate. "We'll mourn them, Captain. We'll honour them," he said, voice throbbing with quiet grief. "And then we'll catch the ones who did this. I promise."
Typho nodded, a broken sob caught in his throat. "Yes… yes, sir." He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, then squared his shoulders. "She's going to be devastated."
"I know," Anakin whispered, blinking away the tears that stung his own , how much more can she lose?
A heavy moment passed and both men were quiet. Words were pointless here. They were feeling the same crushing weight pressing upon them. In the distance, he heard a reporter's voice echo from the corridor, the press hungry foranyscrap of information about Senator Amidala's disappearance. He steeled himself, jaw want a sound bite, a sensational headline,he thought have no idea the cost of what's happening here.
His heart burned with a fierce determination. This was no longer just about saving Padmé, he wanted justice for Dormé andeveryonewho had been caught in the crossfire. Clutching Typho's arm, Anakin helped the distraught Captain to his feet, ignoring the smoky stench that clung to both of them. They had no time for despair right now. They had to act.
Padmé was out there somewhere and whoever had taken her had just murdered her friends in cold blood. Drawing a shaky breath, Anakin thought of her laughter, her fierce compassion, the way she'd lean on him when she was on, my love,he thought desperately.I'm coming for you… I swear it.
"Wait," Typho threw up a hand, frowning deeply. "I'm sorry, I was wrong before. Not everyone is accounted for. I – I wasn't able to find Tiaba amongst the ruins… they're still searching, she might be in there, but I couldn't find her."
Anakin frowned. The name meant nothing to him and that unsettled him more than he cared to admit. Padmé's staff was like a second family to her, he knew their faces, their names, their Tiaba?He'd never met her before. "Tiaba," he repeated, tasting the unfamiliar name like something sour on his tongue. "I've never heard of her. I thought I knew everyone on Padmé's staff."
Typho wiped at the sooty smudge on his forehead, sighing heavily. "She was only hired about eight months ago. While you were away on assignments."
Anakin's frown deepened. "Eight months is still a long time to be working for my – " He cut himself off, coughing to stop the word 'wife'escaping his throat.."…for the senator," he finished. "How have I never so much as heard of her?"
Typho shook his head, guilt weighing on his features. "She was quiet… private. Always seemed to keep to herself unless she was directly assisting the senator. She wasn't particularly close with Dormé or the others either."
Anakin's jaw tightened. "She lived in the same building, right? The one that was bombed?"
"She did, in theory," Typho winced, shifting from one foot to the other. "But Tiaba mentioned spending most of her time in another apartment, one she apparently shared with her husband."
"Her husband?" Anakin repeated curiously. "Where is this apartment located? It's not much, but it's a starting point."
Typho gave a weary shake of his head. "I… I'm afraid I don't know. To my knowledge, she never provided an address for her husband. All official documentation officially stated she lived in the staffing apartments. We didn't see it as suspicious – she told us she wanted to keep her professional life separate and said her husband's schedule had him travelling often." Anakin felt his eyes widen, his mind beginning to seethe with conflicting emotions, shock, anger and dread, while the acrid scent of smoke and the hum of droids in the background provided a dissonant soundtrack to the conversation. Typho dropped his gaze, the lines on his face etched deeper by guilt and exhaustion. "We checked the usual references she provided," he said quietly, "but everything came back clean. She had Naboo citizenship papers and impressive credentials… Nothing seemed amiss."
Anakin raked a hand through his hair. "That could all be fiction," he ground out, his voice trembling on the edge of rage. "You never heard her talk about any relatives or friends besides this supposed husband?"
Typho shook his head, wincing. "She tended to keep to herself when she wasn't actively working. Dormé once mentioned that Tiaba seemed… distant, but we figured she was just shy. She's older than the other women the senator has attending her, I thought she was keeping a healthy distance. She performed her duties well enough that no one questioned it."
Anakin's frown deepened, his thoughts racing as the pieces shifted into é's new handmaiden who it seemed no one thoroughly vetted. Who lived off-site. Who was now unaccounted for after a bombing that seemingly targeted Padmé's entire was too big of a coincidence. "And where is this so-called husband of hers?" Anakin demanded. "Did she ever mention his name? His job?Anythingat all that might help us find her?"
Typho cleared his throat. "Only that he worked off-world, travelling a lot. She was vague, but we were so busy – " He cut himself off, swallowing the rest of his excuse. Anakin felt a fresh flush of frustration swarm his chest.
"So this woman entered the employment of thesenator of Nabooandno onethought to fact-check anything she said?" Anakin forced the question between clenched teeth, fury é could be…He crushed the thought before it could fully form. No, he refused to consider it.
Typho's expression twisted in shame. "I… I'm sorry, General. We were desperate for staff due to the war. Many handmaidens left to be with their families or took other positions in the palace. When Tiaba applied, she had perfect credentials. The references checked out – on the surface, at least, and Senator Amidala was grateful for the help." He trailed off with a ragged sigh. "This is my fault. I should have done more digging."
Anakin wanted to shout, to lash out and agree thiswasall his fault, but anyone could see how broken Typho already was. The Captain had just lost most of the people he worked beside, people he liked, trusted and valued… Force knew he understood how powerful that grief was. Instead of releasing his fury, Anakin took a shaky breath, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice.
"All right," he said, just managing to keep it even. "We have a lead, or at least a name – Tiaba. We find her, we might find Padmé."She's tied to this somehow, I can sense possibility that this Tiaba could be the very person who arranged everything, or a pawn of someone more powerful, was too painfully real to ignore. A soft beep from Anakin's commlink drew his attention. He glanced at it and saw a coded message from the Obi-Wan requesting to meet with him at the senate building. He tucked it away, swallowing a fresh wave of could be more important than this right now?
He levelled his gaze at Typho. "Find me every file, every reference, everyshredof information you have on this Tiaba. Scour her name through the holo-net, cross-reference travel records,anything. I don't care how minor it seems, there has to be a trail."
Typho nodded, determination flickering in his eyes even through the weariness. "I will. And Skywalker… I'm sorry. Truly."
Anakin's throat felt tight as he nodded back. He knew Typho was apologizing for far more than just the lack of thoroughness in the background check. He was apologizing forallof it – the bombing, the staff's deaths, Padmé's disappearance. Perhaps even the failure that Anakin himself felt crushing him.I should have protected her.
With another curt nod, he turned away, heading toward the corridor. Each step felt weighted with sorrow and anger, but he pushed é is out there somewhere,he reminded himself, repeating the words as a desperate I'm going to find her – whatever it takes.
Outside the senate building, a tight ring of holo-cams and reporters buzzed, all angled toward the elaborate podium where the Supreme Chancellor was about to make his plea to the galaxy. There, amid the crush of bodies and the low hum of speeders flying overhead, Anakin spotted Obi-Wan standing near one of the massive pillars at the edge of the platform.
Pushing through the milling crowd until he reached his former Master, he noticed the lines on Obi-Wan's face looked deeper than usual, his eyes heavy with the same weariness Anakin felt gnawing at his insides. Without ceremony, Obi-Wan nodded a greeting. Together, they turned their gaze toward the podium, where murmurs of anticipation swept through the audience. The Chancellor was moments away from appealing to every system in the Republic to help locate Senator Amidala and for answers about who could be behind the bombing.
Anakin released a tense breath. "Do these things ever work?" He muttered, his voice barely audible above the clamour.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "It's hard to say. But we need every bit of help we can get right now. If even one lead comes of it, it might be enough." They fell into a momentary silence. The buzz of reporters setting up last-minute mics and cables felt suffocating as if the entire galaxy were waiting for answers Anakin didn't yet have. Finally, Obi-Wan spoke again, his voice low. "The local law enforcement droids took samples of that spill in Padmé's apartment," he said, casting a wary glance in Anakin's direction. "They suspect she might have been drugged. Some kind of sedative, perhaps."
Anakin felt a hot coil of rage and grief twist in his chest. His imagination conjured an image of Padmé, her beloved hazel eyes glazed and helpless, unable to defend herself. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles whitened. "I – " He swallowed, forcing the words past the bitter taste in his mouth. "If someone drugged her… if they took advantage of her… I can't – "
Obi-Wan laid a cautious hand on his arm. "Careful, Anakin," he murmured. "Don't let yourself go too far down that road. We still don't know for sure what happened."
But Anakin couldn't shake the sickening churn in his gut. The thought of Padmé left defenceless, subjected to the will of some faceless criminal made him feel as though an iron band were tightening around his lungs.I'd rather run myself through with my lightsaber than imagine her like that.
Obi-Wan kept his gaze steady on Anakin, letting the younger man's outburst settle into the tense silence. All around them, the swirl of press droids and onlookers in the background made the moment feel even more claustrophobic, but neither Jedi knew how to escape. Finally, his friend spoke again, his tone careful. "Queen Apailana of Naboo is holding a riverside vigil in Theed this evening. Word has spread quickly and she wants the entire galaxy to see their world stand behind the senator – "
"Padmé isn'tdead!" Anakin snarled, his voice fierce enough to make nearby reporters glance over in surprise. "We don't need avigil, we need everyone out here looking for her!" His hand curled into a fist at his side, trembling with pent-up emotion.
Obi-Wan shot him a warning glare, his voice low. "Control your emotions, Anakin. We're all doing everything we can."
His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, the wild anger subsiding only slightly under his former Master's admonishment. He closed his eyes, swallowing the retort on the tip of his tongue and exhaled a shaky breath 's right – I'm losing it again.
After a taut moment, Anakin spoke more quietly, but there was no disguising the raw edge in his voice. "I just – " His words faltered as he forced back another surge of anguish. He wanted Padmé back. He'd missed herso muchand she was out there, terrified, all alone and everysecondhe wasn't bursting down the door to get her back was another failure. He was letting her down and Anakin couldn't stand it. His breath caught in his throat, eyes burning all of a 't cry. Don't cry.
Force damn it, not here!
"I understand," Obi-Wan murmured, sympathy creasing his features. "I do. But Queen Apailana's vigil will remind people of who Padmé is, of how vital it is to bring her home safely. That kind of public attention can force open lines of investigation we can't ourselves."
Anakin pressed his lips together, warring with the wave of conflicting emotions inside him. Part of him understood that Obi-Wan was right, that any galaxy-wide show of unity could only help, but it still feltwrong, as if they were preparing for a funeral while Padmé was still alive out there, waiting for rescue. The idea made his stomach twist. He stood there, trembling with frustration when a soft mechanical whir reached his ears. Artoo rolled up beside him, bumping gently against his calf. The little astromech's dome spun in a slow, mournful circle as he let out a series of forlorn beeps and whines.
Anakin's expression crumpled, just for a moment. He extended a hand to pat Artoo's dome. "I'm sorry, buddy," he whispered. "We'll find her. And – " He paused, recalling his poor, fallen protocol droid and the scorching hole in his plating. "I'm sorry about Threepio. I know you two were… close." Even if they spent all their time together bickering away, he knew the two-valued each other greatly. He imagined how it would feel to suddenly lose Obi-Wan and shuddered, quickly shoving away that line of thought. "I'll fix Threepio again, I promise you."
Artoo gave another sad trill, hunching down as if the weight of the moment were as heavy for him as it was for Anakin. The sight tugged at Anakin's heart and his anger drained, replaced by a profound exhaustion. Obi-Wan cleared his throat gently. "Let's see what the Chancellor has to say and then we'll head back to the temple."
Anakin nodded, throat tight. He lifted his gaze to the podium again, where the Chancellor began his impassioned plea to the galaxy, calling for any information that might lead to Padmé's safe return and the identity of the bomber. Cam flashes lit up the scene in staccato bursts, a surreal contrast to the desperate ache in Anakin's chest.
He felt helpless. Useless. And that was never a feeling Anakin Skywalker dealt with well.
A/N:Next time: Anakin pays Zilo the Hutt a visit to demand answers and an old friend offers a revelation that changes the course of the investigation – and Anakin's life – forever.