Noriala, 3a2c21
(Cathar form. Let's call this about 8-10ish years post-Order 66?)
This place seemed an awful lot like Taris--but Noriala had never been there.
Order 66 had shattered Noriala's world, on top of the death of her master at the hands of the separatists. She'd been away on an assignment, on her way from Alderaan to another one of the core worlds when the separatists tapped her holo frequency, broadcasting her master's murder for her and the Council.
The Council had insisted that Noriala continue her assignment. She had insisted that she could get along just fine without clone troops, and when she felt the disturbance in the Force that had been Order 66, she was glad that she had insisted on not having clone troops with her.
She'd hopped around the galaxy from there, often contacting a smuggler that she'd crossed paths with in the past if she needed to get somewhere in a hurry. She'd been able to lay low for a while, but now, she was starting to wonder--just how alone was she?
She turned quickly at a rustle in the bushes, one of her hands flying to her lightsaber before she could even think.
Idiot, she reprimanded herself when she saw a smaller creature emerge. You need to be careful... you never know when someone might come along that's hunting Jedi...