Whisper
"Initiate Order 66" Skara heard emanating from a holo-projector behind her. It was Chancellor Palpatine's voice, but not. It was distorted and sounded hoarse. What was Palpatine doing taking charge in an operation like this anyway?
"Yessir" replied the clone trooper Commander's voice.
Suspicious, Skara wheeled around to face the firelight in the centre of the camp. He instinctively ignited his lightsaber as every clone around him raised their blasters, primed, ready to shoot. He smiled and leapt several meters into the air as the green and black-clad clone paratroopers opened fire, forgetting in their haste to account the Jedi's lightning-sharp reflexes. Several bolts hit other clones on opposite sides of the circle, but most just hit the ground and dispersed harmlessly. As he descended, Skara flipped his long hilted lightsaber so it rested in his grip facing downwards. He brought it down on the helmet of one of the clones, driving straight through his skull. He quickly pulled it out and turned to face the rest of his attackers. During the whole process, he felt multiple rifts in the force and knew this was not simply a rogue set of clones, but a galactic event. He backed away, deflecting laser bolts as he did so and he came to the edge of the huge cliff that they had chosen to camp by, because of its wide view on the landscape coming up to the point, making it almost impossible to sneak up on. He felt a sudden urge to do something that he knew would be impossible to pull off. He had no other option. He jumped.
He holstered his lightsaber, twisted his body and angled himself to come as close to the cliff face as possible. He pulled into a dive, his face an inch from the murderous rock, his arms stretched out wide and watched the black water come up to him. A millisecond before he hit it, he thrust his arms forward into a point and sliced through the water.
He met the bottom with a sickening thud, resonating through the water and lay dazed before shaking himself and struggling to the surface. He drew a gasp of air and was pulled beneath the current, just in time to insert his re-breather. He let the flow take him and flickered into unconsciousness.
Gritty soil was pressed up against his face when he awoke, the fast-moving river rushing past his legs. He pushed against the pebbles under the water and moved clear of it, his arms dragging uselessly beside him. He flopped over onto his back and was met by the cold, unforgiving circle of a blaster. Skara shut his eyes as the bolt flashed from the barrel.
He forgot the world. He had moved on from life. Now, he was a whisper, passing to the sea.