The Colour of Fear

The walls of my meditation chamber surround me; in my 'vision' the glyphs on the curves of the wall appear a shimmering red. I wonder if, through another's sight, the glyphs would also appear to glow? For I 'see' not as most races do, with the focusing of light, but by the ebb and flow of the Force. No amount of light can dazzle my 'vision', but I wonder how the world appears to those who are not Miraluka. I often wonder what it is like to have eyes that can see nothing but light, I cannot imagine what is to be so limited.

In my 'vision', and the vision of all Miraluka, everything is alive and constantly moving. The Force spins a complex web before my 'eyes', like a skein of tangled thread, constantly moving, constantly in flux. Living beings show as bright spots in this veil of frenzied movement, the Force Sensitives are brighter and the webbing of the Force moves around them quicker. The Jedi are the brightest of all, like beacons they fill our 'vision' and the Force moves around them like whirlpools in the most turbulent of seas.

I also 'see' what we Miraluka term 'colour' in this maelstrom of 'sight': The Force glows within our 'sight', in different shades for different intentions, different emotions. These emotions spread out like a diffuse and vibrant cloud around the people experiencing them, the colours cling to their limbs like a fog. When someone near me is afraid I can literally 'see' their fear and sometimes... I can almost taste it.

Fear... fear is something I know all too well... it surrounds me... always.

This meditation room is a sham of a sanctuary, meditation is supposed to be a place of mental retreat, where fear and worry can be lost in contemplation of the Force. But for me, this retreat is an artifice, a deliberate conceit in an attempt to deceive myself that I am safe from him. But I am never safe from him: his hunger, his desire to consume all life... he is always around me... his presence clings to me, like the fear that clings to me.

This fear... it is not a new sensation to me: In the months after the destruction of Katarr, this being who is more than a man and less than a human, showed me the depths of terror. The hungry one is limited, he did not seem to realise that by making himself a predator, a devourer, of Jedi, he would eventually run out of meals. So I have come to understand that he keeps me to feast upon... not to kill, not to drain... he only ever tastes of my energy. And every time he feasts upon me, he only grows more ravenous.

If I thought he was capable of any emotion beyond primal hunger... I might consider that my Master enjoys my fear, he certainly inspires it. I learned to live with my fear, the knowledge that at any moment my Master may drain my energy once more. The terror is now a part of me, it is the only part that truly feels, the only part that truly lives. And I wish to escape from him, from his shackles... I wish that he would devour me whole and allow me to die, but I fear death too.

I am beginning to hear something, deep within my meditative trance, a sound so faint within the white noise of the universe that at first I thought it was my imagination. But now as I listen to it, it sounds familiar to me... it is an echo in the Force. I know what this means, it signals the presence of a Force Sensitive, maybe even a Jedi. My Master will wish me to discover the source of this echo, so that he may devour it and I will bring him his sustenance... in order to avoid being fed upon again.

I had thought that there were no more Jedi, that my Master had devoured them all... and I... I am certainly no longer a Jedi. My Master has made me entirely his own creature: There is nothing I would not do for him, if only to escape from being fed on by him. I know I have fallen, but to be a delicacy for a Sith Lord is not something a Jedi, any Jedi I think, can withstand for long. His appetite has broken me even as it has enslaved me and bent me to his will. The Force that swirls around me, tainted by my constant fear, is dark and murky now... I can no longer recall what the Light Side of the Force felt like to me, but I do remember what it 'looks' like.

I miss it.

I remember what happened on Katarr all too clearly... my friends turning to ashes as the hungry one drained them dry. I remember 'seeing' him striding towards me, while the Jedi around me disintegrated. In all my life I had never 'seen' something like him, the veil of the Force was drawn to him, but instead of being wielded by him, he consumed it. I was afraid, terrified, when I 'looked' upon him, because the source of his power was hidden to me.

He came towards me, the only other person left still standing, and without a warning within my 'sight', he struck with me down with his power. I thought he was going to kill me, but instead he devoured only a portion of my power, my essence. As always when my Master drinks of me, my 'vision' fades away, leaving me truly blind. He robs me of my connection to the Force, my ability to see and feel it... I hate feeling that way, even if it is only temporary.

My Master is calling for me, in his strange language that I comprehend through my Force Sensitivity... though I do not know what it is. Perhaps it seems strange that I would serve one I know so little about, but I do know he is the darkness in which all life dies. I do know he is the one who controls me and I do know he is the one I will give my life for. Regardless of my desires my Master holds my leash, to fight against him is useless... I am not strong enough.

As I rise from my false meditation I suddenly wonder what it would be like to be free from his thrall: What if this echo in the Force was one who could destroy him? This thought fills me with dread, because, I wonder if I fear being free more than I fear being my Master's slave. Before the destruction of Katarr I only ever did what was expected of me... I followed Miraluka traditions and the Jedi Code. Despite the terror that I feel, obeying my Lord comes naturally to me... I have never had to make my own decisions.

If, somehow my Master is destroyed, I will have to make my own choices about my life or, I suppose, I will simply be enthralled to his destroyer. I am not strong enough to make my own choices; I am too weak to take charge of my life... perhaps death is an easier option for me; perhaps the hungry one understands that better than I do myself.

But the chances of the Sith Lord being destroyed are slight, I am sure that this echo I hear in the Force is just another Force Sensitive. I will seek it out and bring it to my Master, but I am certain that... it is only a man.