The scream that left her was purely feral, the pain horrendous...

Both ended before she had any time to really understand them and all that was left was nothing that had once been the smug, somewhat nervous, Rebel officer. All that remained was the anger. It didn't matter who it was directed at, it was blinding, driven, hungry.

The woman stood there, breathing heavily before a voice brought instant clarity to everything. Whether Van-Derveld meant it or not, his shout had served as a demand, one that couldn't be ignored.

The combat blade that was ever present, strapped to the side of her calf just above the top of her boots was drawn and the girl launched herself at the Jedi Master. Charlotte could care less what it was that Navaria Tarkin had done, all that mattered now was her death.