"Keep moving... and never look back." Like any good child, Satisa tried her best to listen to her parents, but, even years later, she still struggled with that last part. "Never look back." The memory of her parents trying and failing to hold back tears as they checked all the straps on her bags, tousled her hair one last time, guided her with firm pressure on her shoulders into the waiting maw of that freighter, wasn't the kind of thing she could avoid revisiting. How she wished they could have come with her! It had taken everything the Vorn family could scrounge, beg, steal, and save to get her out of Sith space, however - there had been no possibility of them boarding the freighter beside her, nor of them following with any degree of certainty.

That first part? "Keep moving?" Satisa was good at that part. What her parents had meant to say was "run", but she knew now why they hadn't. It was an absurd notion - how could one outrun an expanding empire? How could someone outpace and entire galaxy? How could someone flee the past? So, "keep moving" it had been, and Satisa busied herself with becoming the consummate refugee. She packed light, and learned to distribute what weight she did carry effectively and smoothly, because there was never a guarantee that she would have a place to store her belongings. She learned to find work quickly and eat little, because she never knew when what small funds she had would be necessary for something more paramount to survival than a meal. She learned to keep to herself and avoid trouble, because, if it wasn't an unfriendly new planet not entirely comfortable harboring the oncoming wave of refugees, the desperate rabble that she traveled with might be just as dangerous. Most importantly, Satisa learned how to move at a moment's notice, because the Sith Empire was always behind her, always moving, and she was, if nothing else, a good daughter - she would stay ahead of that advancing border.

That was her life, then: travel, work, survive. Put down enough roots to manage, and pack up, sometimes months or years after arrival, to start the cycle again. Through it all, Satisa never stopped moving. She never got comfortable. She was always ready to leave... but it was looking back that she could never get right. As adept as she was at her new life, the loss of her old one left a hole in her that had driven her to useless tears for weeks having it torn into her. Her parents had ensured she had her life - had impressed upon her that avoiding the Sith was the only way she could keep it - but she had nothing else. No family, no home, no connections, few possessions (and none she cared about). Satisa was a lost girl, covered in bags and hidden beneath layers of coats and disheveled hair, alone and empty.

Into that empty hole, something flowed, and with nothing to distract her from it, Satisa could feel it. There were no conscious words to describe the things Satisa knew; she wasn't even openly aware that she was feeling something. After months of unabashed sorrow and hard lessons, she simply... was Satisa had stilled and, from that vantage, she acquired a new perspective. She started spending less and less time with the other refugees - the camp seemed to press in around her, alive with sorrow, and the stress of it was palpable, a thing she could taste and feel, and it wore at her. She took work wherever life thrived, on the frontiers of planets and the outskirts of cities, working with animals and plants and far from looming duracrete and crowded bodies.

In nature, Satisa found more than stillness. She felt truly alive, like the hole in her might almost be full, and she spent more and more of her time away from the camps and cities. It was no substitute for a real home, but in those moments, Satisa almost didn't care - the entire galaxy felt like her home, and she loved it. Even struggle, Satisa met with more enthusiasm, finding joy, or at least satisfaction, in the challenge of surviving and solving problems out in nature. unlike the camps of her fellows, where the struggle forced upon them by the threat of the Sith ate at her like a blight, the cycle of life and pain and necessity in the natural world felt right, and she earned her place within it.

Unfortunately, Satisa was always pulled back to the world of the camps. Sometimes, on some planets, she tried to make her home out in the wilderness, but even then, she had to return. To leave the planet when the inevitable happened, at the very least, but often to barter for food, to find work, or any number activities of what had become her daily life that required the presence of others. Satisa did not like those times. There was nothing wrong with being a refugee. They weren't bad people. What they were, however, was desperate, and that alone had begun to weigh on her. It also meant trouble - the occasional scuffle over resources; the rare idea that, having nothing left, there was no reason to hold on to morality and common respect; and the fearful idea of those hosting them on their planet that this idea wasn't all so rare, at all. Competition within and prejudice without left Satisa vulnerable to more than just the crushing weight of the mood that permeated these places: she was no stranger to having to defend herself.

Little and undernourished, Satisa learned to rely on speed and fierce aggression to end altercations quickly and decisively. She did not have the stamina or skill for something stand-up and drag-out, but it hardly mattered. Mostly, her gambits succeeded, and things were halted before they'd even begun. When they failed, they failed quickly and catastrophically, and things were still over soon.

Thankfully, Satisa did not have to fight very often. Those situations were mercifully rare, and, when she was backed into a corner, the galaxy seemed at times to be on her side; in moments of exhausting stress, Satisa sometimes felt that hole in her empty again and, for a moment, the world seemed still, quiet, an emptiness to mirror her own. Whatever enthusiasm for violence her assailants felt almost wavered, and Satisa made her escape. In those moments, she was good at not looking back.

Fight, flee. Work, survive. Emptiness and belonging in the limitless expanse of the galaxy. Don't get attached. Keep moving. It was just a temporary home... only ever a temporary home. Looking out the window of this latest batch of freighters, leaving another world to shrink in the distance, consume and absorbed by the Sith Empire, Satisa hardly had to try to repeat this mantra. It was one that was familiar to her...

Empathy / Vengeance

4 Conflict

Satisa is a fiery, driven young woman hidden beneath an introverted, reserved shroud. She is dedicated, determined, and relentless in the face of challenge and in the pursuit of things that are important to her, but she is careful not to get attached or close to others. After all, she still carries the wounds of the past, and hasn't yet adjusted to the idea that she might finally have something lasting.

Beneath that shell, Satisa is a very caring person. She hates the suffering of others and, having suffered herself, is extremely sympathetic to the plights of others. Now that she has some measure of power or authority, she will go out of her way to be a voice and, if need be, a champion for the lost and downtrodden. Her passion can sometimes get the better of her, though, and she does not always have the most patience or kindness when righting wrongs; Satisa can be uncompromisingly vengeful.

Having finally found a home and a family, Satisa will do anything to keep them. Once she warms up to the Jedi that have taken her in, they will find her loyal, caring, dedicated, and kind.

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Wavering somewhere between "disheveled" and "pretty", Satisa herself would choose adjectives like "practical", "collected", or "sturdy." She has a thin but athletic build and tanned skin, both as a consequence of her natural complexion and the time she chooses to spend outdoors. Glimpsed beneath a wild mane of brown hair, her blue eyes and full lips are, more often than not stoic, serene, or some form of serious, so catching flashes of the childhood that was interrupted - expressive glee, delighted smiles, or open wonder - is something special, if not terribly uncommon.

Before agreeing to become a Jedi, Satisa was fond of layers - coats, pants, shirts, and gloves that kept her well-protected and cozy no matter what situation she found herself in - and oven laden with at least one bag. None of her clothes from this time have survived unscathed, most showing signs of wear and use ranging from light scuffing to tattered hems.

Now, on Yavin, Satisa has finally settled in and found herself comfortable and stable enough to take care of her appearance. Although still often found with a sheen of sweat, a bit of dirt, and wild hair, she is is remarkably more well-kempt than when she arrived, a sign that she's managing to settle in. Satisa still prefers layers, but now favors tight, practical clothes that won't get in the way of her training or tangled out in the wilds of Yavin.