FORBIDDEN ATTACHMENTS ─ star wars

VIII. An Unknown Supplier

Chapter Eight
Anakin

"Anakin! Ani help me!" I hear my mother scream. I look around the never ending void around me, searching for the location of the voice, but I see nothing.

"Ani! I need you, Ani!" She screams louder, her pain evident in the raw tone of her voice. I let out a frantic breath, running as fast as I can towards my mother's tortured voice, but the closer I seem to get the quieter the voice gets, slipping through my fingers like the sands of Tatooine.

"Anakin! Anakin!" I hear her scream one last time, before her voice dies out completely, leaving me alone in the dark void of the abyss.

"Anakin? Anakin wake up." I hear a different woman's voice say. I peel my eyes open to see Fallon sitting next to my cot, concern filled in her gaze.

I let out a couple deep breaths, trying to renter reality and push that horrific nightmare from my mind, from my memory entirely.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

I nod to her, pinching the bridge of my nose and trying to settle down my rapidly beating heart. "Yes. Yes I'm fine."

Fallon stares at me for a moment longer, before she stands up extending her hand out to me. I take it, finding her grip on my hand almost grounding, like it's keeping me from slipping back into the nightmare I just lived.

"Come on, we have a job to do today." Fallon tells me, concern still lingering in her eyes as she turns away from me, walking towards her front door. I had thought the rebels would be staying in the palace now that they've taken it, but according to Fallon, they don't feel right staying in a place that isn't theirs. They take shifts guarding the palace, making sure someone is always inside.

"And that job is?" I dare ask, taking in a breath of fresh air as we walk down the streets of the capital.

"Our people need food, we're tasked with taking them supplies from our anonymous supplier. We are running out of food and clothes however, today's shipments are the last of what we have."

I had noticed last night when we left the palace and I notice now; the people look half dead. The people walking the streets are skin and bone, with tattered clothes that barely cover their bodies enough to shield them from the sun radiating above. As I look at these people I feel an anger swell in me. How could the this have happen? I don't believe the republic are to blame, but if I were one of these citizens I would probably be doing what they're doing. I would probably rebel as well

"Did King Willard not do anything to help?" I ask Fallon, passing by a little girl eating a small piece of bread with two smaller boys. Barely enough for the three of them.

Fallon nods. "He talked with the republic many times but they claimed the trade routes and trade posts were shipping out their normal amount of supplies. They claimed there should be no reason why Taris isn't getting enough food."

"Where are your trading posts?"

"We have several trading routes but all of them stem from two posts in the planet Bretta and the planet Cardellia. You may have seen the amount of wild life we have but our soil doesn't give us much options for growing food. The trees and plants on Taris aren't like most."

I knit my eyebrows together, crossing my arms. "How so?"

"The soil, the trees, the flowers, the very ground we are walking across are filled with Irum. It's a rare substance that only grows here on Taris. It can be used to make explosives as well as other weapons."