Gella gently went to her knees, closed her eyes, and began to meditate. The faint sounds around her came to her like ripples in a stream, intermingling with her existence. There were people nearby, not imprisoned like her. She sensed a guard outside her door, his nervousness, his elevated heart rate thumping the pulsations of anxiety into the air around him. Something was about to happen, or was already happening. She smelled the air, wet from the loamy ground beneath her. But there was also the faint metallic tang of weapons being sharpened, of explosives being prepared. And finally, a twist of two emotions that made the Force feel like a turbulent flow in what should have been a Force-respectful, peace-loving settlement.
Anger. So much anger.
And the other sensations yawning, vicious hunger emanating from somewhere nearby. A terrifying disruption in the Force that frightened her.
The anger, she surmised, came from the Path members around her.
But the other feeling was inexplicable. Nevertheless, she had to clear her mind to guide her way. She must simply exist within the Force, with all its ebbing and flowing, all its nearby turbulence. With much effort, she allowed her emotions to melt away, leaving her to exist so there was nothing but Gella, and only Gella, listening with every atom of her being to the Force.
She waited. And she listened.
It told her to be still. Not to escape.
Something, or someone, was coming for her.

Star Wars The High Republic Cataclysm Chapter 18 Page 230