Hera barely knew Crix. The Padawan, no, Jedi Knight, had attended a training session she hosted a long time ago. He was a Padawan back then, how fast time flew. He had become a Knight and Hera hadn't even noticed, he had died and Hera hadn't even noticed... The pain of her failure to protect a former student, no matter how short his time spent with her, weighed heavily on her. However, not as heavily as the anger and rage that boiled deep down inside her.
She slammed the sharp end of the shovel into the earth, digging a hole.
That infernal rage roiled and riled inside her heart, asking 'Why had they held a service for Crix without his body? Why hadn't they just requested it back? Would we not also send back our slain enemies to be properly tended to?' Hera did so with zero hope that it would be returned, but within a week the corpse had been returned in a soft Kashyyyk-pine box to a designated point on a neutral world; with body, lightsaber, and box free of tracking devices. His body had not been tended to, but his return at all was a shocking surprise. Altair (@Sreeya) didn't even hesitate when Hera sent the request to his public Imperial office.
Hera slammed the sharp end again, harder, digging deeper and deeper.
His body was burned almost to an unidentifiable degree, then impaled multiple times with earthen spears. The Sith were not merciful in their kills, but the Jedi were not defenseless civilians. This was war, and she would certainly not hold herself back in a duel with their sworn enemies. But it was not that Sith that felt her anger, no, it was the Jedi. A padawan threw away the Order after Crix's death, but didn't seem to care about caring for what remained of him. Her master utterly failed in teaching her, preferring to serenade her instead- 'What madness was this?'
Harder, the shovel hit the earth.
Hera had wrapped Crix's corpse in bandages, covering his body head to toe in a manner not dissimilar to what would be required of a mummification process. She gently clothed his wrapped body in the tunic and cloak of a Knight befitting his status. His lightsaber she clipped to her own belt, Hera would honor Crix's memory in her own way with his blade. Hera had been accused of not grieving, and that accusation from an angry Padawan had cut deeper than the Knight would have liked. She thought, 'How dare you, I will grieve in my own way in my own time! If I don't cry and spill my heart to you, begging for comfort, does that mean I didn't care? How- what- I cannot-'
The shovel thrown out of the hole, now seven feet deep, Hera screamed in frustration. Kneeling in the hole, she tried to get her emotions under control. This was not becoming of a Justicar, she had to be better.
She had to be better.
She slammed the sharp end of the shovel into the earth, digging a hole.
That infernal rage roiled and riled inside her heart, asking 'Why had they held a service for Crix without his body? Why hadn't they just requested it back? Would we not also send back our slain enemies to be properly tended to?' Hera did so with zero hope that it would be returned, but within a week the corpse had been returned in a soft Kashyyyk-pine box to a designated point on a neutral world; with body, lightsaber, and box free of tracking devices. His body had not been tended to, but his return at all was a shocking surprise. Altair (@Sreeya) didn't even hesitate when Hera sent the request to his public Imperial office.
Hera slammed the sharp end again, harder, digging deeper and deeper.
His body was burned almost to an unidentifiable degree, then impaled multiple times with earthen spears. The Sith were not merciful in their kills, but the Jedi were not defenseless civilians. This was war, and she would certainly not hold herself back in a duel with their sworn enemies. But it was not that Sith that felt her anger, no, it was the Jedi. A padawan threw away the Order after Crix's death, but didn't seem to care about caring for what remained of him. Her master utterly failed in teaching her, preferring to serenade her instead- 'What madness was this?'
Harder, the shovel hit the earth.
Hera had wrapped Crix's corpse in bandages, covering his body head to toe in a manner not dissimilar to what would be required of a mummification process. She gently clothed his wrapped body in the tunic and cloak of a Knight befitting his status. His lightsaber she clipped to her own belt, Hera would honor Crix's memory in her own way with his blade. Hera had been accused of not grieving, and that accusation from an angry Padawan had cut deeper than the Knight would have liked. She thought, 'How dare you, I will grieve in my own way in my own time! If I don't cry and spill my heart to you, begging for comfort, does that mean I didn't care? How- what- I cannot-'
The shovel thrown out of the hole, now seven feet deep, Hera screamed in frustration. Kneeling in the hole, she tried to get her emotions under control. This was not becoming of a Justicar, she had to be better.
She had to be better.
@Apollyon