Lilandra sat completely still on an old chair she used solely for meditating, and extended her senses across a large portion of the planet. It was no trivial feat to reach out and listen to so many individuals simultaneously, but she had always been extremely empathetic, and the task was made easier by the fuel of anxiety that stems from a plan with so many moving parts that must each function like clock-work.
His presence was, of course, easily detected. When his ship docked, she had given her agent the signal to set the opening salvo into motion. And now, the pieces were all moving. She sensed fear, pain, and anger from the Republic troops; confidence from her mercenaries. Her extremely detached agent was, as always, difficult to pinpoint, but the wildcard was not. His emotions were a jumble, especially for a Jedi. And he was en route.
Lilandra allowed herself a small little smile. So far, everything was falling into place.
And then, the labored breathing of her new apprentice caught her ear. He was still healing; his former master had been . . . thorough.
The emotions that threatened to overwhelm her were quickly channeled into anger. Anger at herself for risking her carefully laid plans on a broken creature, anger at this creature for threatening her plans, rage at his master for breaking him, frustration with his master for not finishing the job and leaving him in her way, and of course, the whirl of anger and hatred naturally fell back into her usual pattern that always ended with a scream of rage.
The Cathar stirred fearfully in his sleep, and Lilandra decided it was time to begin the next stage of her plan. Stepping outside, she signaled her agent as she stepped up onto her speeder and turned the ignition.
“It’s time,” she said. “Begin the advance.”