Tremors in the Force

Smoke. Heat. Blood. Terror. Screaming. The memory of Mizra plays over and over again in Netra's mind, the sights, sounds, and smells no less vivid than the day they occurred. The tremor in her hands serves as proof that the feelings attached have not lost their intensity either. A thick bead of sweat forms on her brow and her saber floats in a precarious orbit.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

A deep breath and an exhale. The tremors subside as the visions of war fade into the distance and she detaches herself from the moment. It simply was, and there was no sense in hoping to deny that which was unavoidable. Instead, one would fare better to look to the future for understanding. Another breath. She lets herself slip away from the present as well to become a vessel for the Force.

Yet, the sound of crying calls her back. Fear and confusion fill her, but it's not that of a dying Padawan. No, it's the cries of a newborn reaching out for warmth in the strange world that greets it. A familiar figure answers the plea and takes the child into their arms. Its mother. Her mother. The Code occupied Netra's earliest memories and served as a source of comfort, yet this warmth had nestled its way into her being earlier still. Her breathing stops as she focuses on the moment, desperate to hold onto it and extract all she can.

The lightsaber clatters to the ground and Netra's face contorts in pain. Darkness clouds her mind and the taste of iron fills her mouth as flashes of an operating room appear before her. Men, women, and all manner of beasts split open and studied. A Kaminoan woman oversees each subject, obsessively taking notes.

Then, Netra is in the present again. Her eyes flutter open as she pants slightly, exhausted from the whirlwind of experiences incurred by her meditation. The inside of her Eta-2 and the sight of open space greet the Knight. Her lips turn downwards as she takes the controls and begins setting a course. Her own life being put at risk was not ideal, but it was something she was willing to deal with on her own. This...The hunting of those sensitive to the Force was not something she could ignore.

She would not allow another tragedy. Not when she was so certain things could be different this time.

Feelings of regret and reluctance start to bubble up, but she pushes them aside and focuses on her mission. She would have to inform what remained of the Order, but who would she seek out first? Masters Dhor Tallav and Sabrassk came to mind. The former had been her master at a time while she had worked closely with the latter on investigations. Neither would be easy to pin down after her long absence, but she much preferred them than going directly to the Council. She would if necessary, but she hoped to conceal her shame for just a little longer.