Inner Turmoil

Rena continued to pace through the chambers, as Bantha Squad continued to train with their stubby training lightsabers. Her mind had been on Dante a lot lately. He had reported to the Council a few hours ago and she was eager to hear the news of what he had said.

"Master Naver," one of the young children asked Rena, "my training saber is not working properly."

She looked down at the young child, a human girl no more than 7 years old.

The child's soft dark brown eyes revealed her innocence. She had locks of dark curls around her and her light brown skin only made Rena think more of her Master.

Rena could only smile at the child and said softly, "all right, let's see what is wrong with it." She sat down on a bench with the child and instantly recognized the problem: faulty power cell. "I've told you many times, Febe, you don't have to call me 'Master Naver,'" she said, as the child sat beside her. "Just call me Rena."

"Okay," she replied.

Rena began to help the child figure out the problem and after Febe learned the problem, she replaced the lightsaber with another functional one. Rena rose and after she was content that most of the younglings had learned enough for the day, she dismissed the class.

As she began to walk out of the room, Jolee greeted her.

"Dismissing the kids so soon?"

"They've had quite the workout today—they deserve to relax."

"So the story goes," he said. He looked at her and then said, "I heard you're the golden student of the…well I guess you could call it the 'Order.' Heh, not many promising students I see these days—except for those kids."

"Maybe, but I am just strong in the Force."

"So I've noticed. You seem to remind me of someone else—and I don't know if anyone else has noticed."

"Oh?" Rena furrowed her eyebrows and folded her arms across her chest. "Who do I remind you of, exactly?"

"Someone who seemed to give me the exact same attitude you're giving me," he smiled, revealing perfect white teeth that matched his snow-white goatee.

"You still haven't told me, Master Bindo," she replied.

"Please, let's cut the formalities. Just call me Jolee."

"All right, Jolee," she replied, stressing his name and earning a raised brow for her efforts, "who do I remind you of?"

"On second thought," he began, "let's get something to eat. I'm kind of hungry." He rubbed his belly and noticed she stood still and carried an adamant expression of that person who she reminded him of.

"I am not going anywhere until you tell me," she said.

"You kids, don't you respect your elders anymore?" He chuckled and they began to walk towards the mess hall as he explained. "His name is Revan—I don't suppose you've heard of him, have you?"

"Revan?" Rena asked thickly, stopping dead center in the hallway. She felt her blood contract towards her organs, leaving the rest of her body cold and tingly. "I've heard of him, but I never really knew him."

"Well," he began, smacking his lips, feeling apprehension surround the young woman, "Revan was someone who I met back on Kashyyyk—a handsome, pompous man who believed in the tenets of the Jedi Order and sought pleasure by annoying Bastila." He eyed her and realized that she continued to appear apprehensive. "Are you all right?"

She looked around and then looked back at him. Somehow, she had the feeling she could tell him a secret—one of the many things that had been plaguing her for some time. "Actually, there is something that I need to confess…"


After spending a few hours listening to Jolee speak about his past adventures with Revan and Bastila, Rena found herself pacing in her quarters. The traits the old man had mentioned between her and Revan seemed to be on the mark. It disturbed her how she never noticed that both of them were equally powerful in the Force and they had the same oceanic blue eyes and raven black hair.

She would make it a point to have her long hair cut short to her shoulders.

What disturbed her the most was that she had even confided her ability to sense Revan's presence through the Force to the old man.

Not even Bastila, who had formed such a powerful bond with the Jedi, could feel him as strongly as Rena could.

She paced around her quarters and continued to wonder what else she seemed to have in common with the Jedi Knight. She could very well have been the Jedi's little sister.

Come on, she thought fervently, I am not related to Revan in any way. Or could I…? She looked at herself in the mirror as she continued to ponder. Where are you Master?

She sighed as she lay down on her bed, wondering what might come of this possible connection to Revan.

She sighed as she wondered what might become of her Master if he was in the trouble she sensed him in.

Rena sat up and looked out at the window that revealed the night sky of the city planet. Am I destined to forever keep secrets from those that take me in and love me?

The truth was that she knew why she ran from those slavers, all those years ago. She knew why she had the connection with Revan, and more importantly, she knew what was to come to the Jedi Order and the Galaxy if she continued to leave them in the dark.

The only problem was that she feared what would happen to her and everyone that mattered to her—namely, Dante, the Younglings, Frreral and now Jolee.

Already, the Republic had dissolved, with thousands of systems forming small coalitions, while the Republic Navy protected the Mid-rim and the Core. These coalitions already formed shaky alliances with one another, while darkness continued to creep through the Galaxy.

Rena continued to look out as the millions of citizens of Coruscant continued to tread busily in their lives, unaware and uncaring towards the changes that were occurring throughout the Galaxy. At least there are some people who will benefit from this, she mused, as she thought of Kuat Drive Yards and other military contractors that would stand to gain from the formation of the planetary alliances.

She lay back down on her bed, throwing blankets over herself as she found herself beginning to drift into the darkness. I hope you are safe, Master—soon we will be together again. If the Force wills it, she added before she knew nothing but darkness.


They raced through the dark hallways, sapphire blades lighting the way, deflecting crimson energy as soldiers, donned in an array of armour types, raced behind them, firing at the figures before the pair.

They stood there, firing relentlessly, as they fell by the numbers. Bipedal droids that reflected the look of the Mandalorians that had plagued the Galaxy almost 13 years earlier slowly marched towards the bolstered soldiers that raced towards them.

And in a flash, the gaps were closed as flesh burned and metal clanged against metal, screams and hisses were heard, as the thrums of lightsabers tore through the numbers of droids and blasters shot forth scarlet bolts that slammed into full-bodied figures.

The figure with the sapphire blade, with raven black hair longer than Dante's, running towards the man's chin, thrust forth his lightsaber, impaling a droid as he extended his arm and sent a trio of droids flying away. His goatee seemed the only trimmed and neat trait about him, as he was covered in dirt and soot from countless battles. He wore black boots and breeches, while his torso was highlighted with grey fibermesh armour and silver gauntlets covered his forearms.

She stood beside him, deflecting crimson bolts, sending three into a hapless droid, felling it. Her raven hair was short and ran down to the nape of her neck. Her grey, almond shaped eyes revealed her intensity, though her raven hair appeared to be nowhere near as dark as the man's. She wore grey robes that had custom fitted plates on her chest and torso. Her soft pale skin was darkened with the soot and dirt from past battles as well.

Both of their eyes met and they nodded determinedly as they stood poised for what awaited them at the other end of the tunnel.

"You might want to fall back and carry out the mission—we can handle this," the male called out to the soldiers behind him.

"Yes sir!" They called as they fell back, racing into other corridors and began to carry out their mission: destroy the foundry and stop droid production.

"Revan!" She called, "heads up!"

He looked at the end of the hallway as the large doorway was torn asunder and out of it came a large 15-foot, heavily armoured, wardroid. "Looks like we're going to have to do this together, Theresa," he mumbled as they both raised their lightsabers high into the air and leapt towards it.

They both gave out a loud cry as their blades came racing towards the droid.


She sat up, screaming out as she gathered her bearings, noticing that Coruscant's night sky had grown to the fiery ribbons of early dawn. The slits of light marked its path in her room, as she breathed heavily, her chest rising with every deep breath, as sweat doused her garments and her disheveled hair.

She rose from the bed, walking slowly towards the refresher as she found herself deep in thought. Revan and the Exile were about to fight some large tank droid? I have to tell the Council immediately—though what do I say? 'I had a vision of Revan and Theresa fighting a tank droid in some remote system?'

She shook her head. They'll never believe me, except for Master Bindo. She sighed as she made her way into the shower, throwing off her sweat stained garments. Why do I trust him? She found herself thinking. He seems honest, wise and very laid back. I can only hope he keeps my secret in good trust.

She remembered what the old man had said earlier. I can only hope that you tell the Council when you are ready—the Jedi may have some of the answers to what you are looking for, and perhaps it will shed some light on the whereabouts of Revan and the Exile in these troubling times. She found it strange that the old man was right, yet somehow, what she found even more peculiar was that she trusted the man more than the Council. Something in her seemed to recognize Jolee in some way, but she wasn't sure how or why. She shrugged and assumed it was merely the Force that told her to trust Jedi Master Jolee Bindo.

Perhaps the old man is right, she thought. I will tell the Council soon—but when Dante returns, she decided. He'll stand by me. He's never failed me. She smiled as she felt her heart lighten at the thought of the man. Come back soon, Dante.


"Theresa!" He yelled as he leaped across the carbon scored corridors. "Get down!" He shoved her out of the way as he tucked himself in a ball and rolled on the ground, rolling onto his knees in one fluid movement.

He extended both of his hands, throwing the heavily scarred tank droid across from them. He wasted no time, as he revealed a thermal detonator and lobbed it at the droid, sending pieces of the biped's chest flying towards the pair as it exploded.

He brought both of his hands in front of them and directed them in their respective directions, sending the shrapnel flying away.

He sighed, only to be sent flying away as crimson energy crashed into his left side.

Theresa rose and extended her hand, bringing Revan's sapphire blade into her hand as she called the Force to augment her speed.

Undaunted, the droid continued to fire its shoulder cannon, despite the fact its targeting sensors were long since gone.

She growled as she raced along the walls, dodging every blast. She threw Revan's lightsaber into the face of the droid, as she jumped and brought her lightsaber over her head, using the Force to give her the strength to drive the blade through. The sapphire blade connected, biting into the metallic skin of the burly droid. As she began her descent, her blade continued to run itself down the droid unabated.

When she landed, the droid collapsed in two and didn't get up again. She sighed and clipped her blade to her belt. "Nothing like a workout, eh Revan?"

There was no reply.

"Revan?" She turned around and was shocked to see him lying on the ground, bloodied and unconscious.

Theresa rushed to his side, pulling his body close to her. "Revan!" She called out to him, as few of the commandoes ran to their aid, one of them opening a medpac. "Revan, wake up! Are you all right?"

He could only groan, as blood had stained his robes and some of the blood had caked around the corner of his lips.

"Get him into a medical capsule immediately!" She barked as the commandoes pulled Revan's weak and tired form with them.

His left arm was covered in blood and ended just past his elbow.

Theresa turned away and extended her hand, calling Revan's fallen lightsaber to her hand. She studied it and noticed the small inscriptive found there: Our greatest Evil flows from ourselves.

She smiled half-heartedly as she clipped it to her belt. "Only you would have something like that, wouldn't you, Revan?" She turned around and followed the rest of the group away from the corridors, leaving the foundry to explode in a burst of colours, as ash and smoke consumed the decadence of life around it.

Proton Cores had a tendency to do that.


Author's Notes: The saying: "Our greatest Evil flows from ourselves," comes from Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a philosopher and something of an anarchist in the nature of Humans. I hope you enjoy how I am writing Revan and the Exile--but rest assured, they will be written in as more than just 'visions.' Anyway, the plot begins to thicken as more and more things are still to come in Catharsis.