Telos — The Jedi Academy
21,102 A.R.
She was about to leave, but the voice of the so-called Last Handmaiden gave her pause. "Please, Exile, before you go—"
"My name's Meetra," she said, her voice taut.
The younger woman inclined her head deferently, and with a promptness that suggested she was used to being deferent. "Forgive me… Meetra. There is something I would ask you, if I may."
Meetra waited. Annoyed though she was by the Exile moniker, she somewhat regretted her coarse tone. She couldn't help it—it was too soon after her reunion with Atris—but this woman was different from the others; she seemed like she was a misfit, too.
"You know what it means to touch the Force… What does it feel like?"
Her brow furrowing, Meetra brought a hand to her belt, to the spot where a lightsaber had hung a long time ago. Having lived one life with the Force and another without it, it struck her as strange that this question wasn't an easy one. "Feel like? I don't… I don't know how to describe it."
"Please, will you try? I wish to know."
Meetra's hand started to fidget. Even if she'd known what to say, part of her thought that the question was too personal to answer. But the desperate, naked hope in the Handmaiden's voice checked her impulse to walk away.
After a moment of useless reflection, she sighed. "It's almost like a sound… Voices. Or music, maybe. But it always seems far away, and you can never be sure where it's coming from."
As soon as she heard herself, it sounded wrong. But the Handmaiden nodded thoughtfully and murmured, "I see. Thank you, Meetra. I appreciate you sharing your knowledge with me."
Meetra forced a smile and turned to go. "Take care of yourself."