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The speeder hummed beneath them, sleek and silver, skimming above Scipio’s pale stone roads. It tore through the icy air, sleek and fast, as if trying to outrun the silence inside it. The buildings around standing tall, regal, and lifeless.
He hadn’t looked at her since she’d climbed in. Not properly. Not yet.
They said nothing.
The wind pulled at them both, Padmé’s deep violet robes snapping behind her like war banners, Anakin’s Jedi uniform billowing in time. They moved together, garments flaring in sync, but nothing else about them felt aligned.
Anakin kept his hands tight on the controls, eyes fixed ahead. Every muscle in his jaw was clenched. The pale light of the Muun capital glinted off his gauntlets, harsh and sterile.
He hadn’t said anything since the jail. Neither had she. Not a word. The hum of the engine and the rush of the city below filled the space where conversation should’ve been.
She shifted behind him, he felt it more than saw it.
She took a deep breath. “We need to talk about this Ani. I didn’t want to listen to Clovis either, I tried to tell the Banking Clan I wouldn’t negotiate with him and that his allegiance was to the separatists. But when he broke into my apartment, he told me all about the Banking Clan’s corruptions, I couldn’t not listen!” she finally said.
That did it.
Anakin’s head snapped toward her. “He what?”
She didn’t need to ask which part needed clarification. She knew. “Broke in,” she repeated, calm as stone. “But only because it wasn’t safe to have that conversation publicly.”
His jaw flexed. He skin flushed hot. “If I see him, I’ll punch him in the throat.”
Padmé looked at him, arching a brow. “No need. I was sure to greet him with a blaster to the face.”
Now that made his mouth twitch despite everything. He smirked and turned towards her. “Now that sounds more like it angel.”
She almost smiled. Almost. But her gaze drifted forward again.
“Don’t be angry at me” She pleaded
“I’m not angry with you,” he muttered.
“You’re doing an excellent job hiding it.”
He was silent a beat longer than he should’ve been. The speeder dipped lower, hugging the curve of a terrace. He finally asked, “What else happened?”
“He showed me evidence,” she said. “Actual files. And he had a plan to get more evidence. Proof of the Banking Clan’s money laundering. He had it hidden at his house. I saw it with my own eyes. That is where we need to go.”
Anakin’s hands wrung tightly on the controls. The speeder banked left, low through a narrow corridor between marble towers.
“You went to his house?” His voice was rising again. “Alone?”
“I didn’t exactly bring a picnic basket, Anakin. I was working.”
“You could’ve taken security. A guard. Anyone but him.”
Padmé’s voice was stained. “The Senate doesn’t authorize bodyguards for covert investigations into war profiteering. I made a judgment call.”
“You made a dangerous call.”
Padmé turned sharply toward him. “And I was right. The corruption is real. I saw it.”
He exhaled harshly through his nose, trying to force his voice steady. “When was this?”
The speeder shuddered slightly in the wind. She hesitated. “About five cycles ago. Why?”
Anakin blinked. “Five cycles…?” His voice sharpened. “Padmé, that’s when I tried to contact you. You didn’t answer. Not even a message.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “But I was occupied,” she replied tightly. “I didn’t have time to answer personal calls.”
Anakin gave a short, bitter laugh. “Personal calls? Padmé, I thought something had happened to you! I thought—”
She cut in before he could finish. “I was busy breaking into banks and then getting arrested, Anakin. Forgive me for not having time to check in.”
“I just needed to know you were okay,” he said, almost yelling into the wind as it whipped around them.
They fell silent again, but this time the silence felt different. Less like a wall, more like a wound.
Padmé looked at him again. Her voice had gentled. “I didn’t mean to shut you out. I just… I had to follow the trail. There wasn’t time. I had to handle it”
“Handle it? I just had you released from Prison Padme, thats not handling it”
“But we have the evidence now! We can take it to the Senate and show them proof of money laundering! We just have to go get it.”
After a moment, he spoke again. “Where’s the house? Clovis’ place. Where you said he would have the evidence there?”
She turned slightly, lifting her chin. “You’re not going to punch him, are you?”
“No promises.”
Padmé sighed and leaned toward the nav system. “Take the upper south corridor. It’s built into the cliffside. You’ll see a terrace with a railing. That’s his.”
Anakin adjusted course, the speeder banking hard into the wind.
He didn’t say it, but the thought roared in him: If that evidence is gone… if he’s playing her again… if she’s hurt again because of him…
He didn’t finish the thought.
The wind screamed louder. But not louder than the fury blooming in his chest.