She stared up, or was it down? Thunder growled beneath (or was it above?) her feet and lighting danced across the angry clouds occasionally reaching for her. Above the ground grew long bony arms pawing and clawing for her. They where very close and often sliced her face or violently yank her hair. No matter how it stung she couldn't shrink down into the sky out of reach least she be swallowed into hot ashy clouds and searing lighting. The arms would whisper as well. Tauntingly they hissed at her with words she felt but that couldn't be identified if asked. They smeared the scratching feeling of guilt into her chest and the contorting feeling of shame. Yet even with the combined noise of thunder and speech there was still something louder. It was deafening and beat into her core. It was a silent scream yet a stagnant crescendo that raged from everywhere. It was inescapable, crushing, but worst of all it knew her name.
How she wish for an escape. She would gladly suffer the arms tearing her apart if it meant silencing that noise. Yes. Yes the arms will drag her into muted death where rest could finally be achieved. Slowly she raised her arm to the dark fingers above. They immediately begin scratch and peal at it until it was raw. Now the pain outweighed the noise, and it was glorious. Other arms began to reach and clasp her body. After years of endless hell, it is time to let go.
But what about Carth and the others? What of Bastila and of Mission, Jolee, Canderous and the droids? It hurt but she couldn't abandon them. Carth would be utterly lost if she faded away, and what sort of example would she be setting for Bastila and Mission if she gave up now at the precepts of assumed redemption. She would endure. She would endure the weight of the galaxy for them. Besides, she'd miss them.
With all her determined might she desperately heaved back against the hands. Suddenly both sky and ground seemed to detach. They collapse in on each other, and she was crushed between them.
Revan bolted upright in bed gasping for breath. There was still the feeling of pressure on her bones and the tingling pain in her hand. Immediately she checked her assaulted appendage. She could hardly see anything in the blue-blackness of the night but she felt smooth skin and sensed no injury. Discovering her body was unharmed seemed to make the pain fade. Her breathing settled as she laid back on the sweat laden sheets.
This was the fifth consecutive night she had that awful nightmare. Revan was sick of it. Almost every night for the past month she's dreamed of that place; each time picking a different way to terminate the dream; which was usually some form of suicide. There was no apparent reason to the dream other than hinting the she should swan dive off the nearest tall building. Then again her life the past two years has been heavy-handily hinting that as well. 'No no,' Revan gently thought to herself, 'time to hop off this train of thought; you'll start thinking about everything and get depressed and not want to do anything then end up bored and miserable.' She gave a sigh somewhat hoping the thoughts would leave with the air. They didn't.
The man next to her stirred, shifting the angle at witch he laid on his shoulder. Slowly she leaned over to check if her episode waked him again. Luckily he was a heavy sleeper. Through the dark of the night she saw Carth fast asleep. He had a long day today (or yesterday, she hadn't checked the time) and certainly deserved to sleep. But how she envied that dumb soldier. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and massaged her tense shoulders. All of a sudden the air in the room felt suffocating. Grabbing the closest covering she crossed the room to the curtained door to the balcony. The shirt she picked up luckily was Carth's and covered her adequately, unless a mischievous gust of wind flies under her. She was far too tiered to care, though. Even so she could use the Force to keep it down if worst came to worst.