Mysterious Ways

He continued to sit comfortably in the cockpit—or as comfortable as he could get. Atton never enjoyed piloting bulky, slow freighters with a proverbial bull's eye painted on its hull. In fact, Atton found himself disliking piloting anything as of late.

Dark rings had formed under his eyes, as a thin red line ran across his lower eyelids. His face was paler and covered in an abnormal amount of stubble that had formed on his face over the past few weeks. Somehow, it painted a different picture of the light-hearted, not-so-intoxicated scoundrel who had always maintained a clean-shaven face. With Theresa gone gallivanting across the Galaxy, on a whimsical and fool-hardy mission to stop an army of Sith, Atton was left to his own devices, crushed and mortified with thoughts of what might be happening to her.

There was hardly a moment that did not passed by when his thoughts weren't turned to her. Theresa, he thought, trying to reawaken the bond he had felt closing in on him, where are you? Before he could go further, the familiar presence of Visas planked herself on the co-pilot's chair beside him.

"How long do we have until we reach the planet?" She asked, once more in a soft-spoken manner.

"We'll reach the planet in 3 standard hours," he answered, as he felt a soft shiver in the Force. She wants to say something.

"Good," she said, turning and facing the blue swirls of hyperspace that surrounded the complete darkness, which shrouded the end of the hyper-tunnel ahead of them.

After another moment of uncomfortable silence, Atton cleared his throat. "So what is it you want to say?" He finally asked.

"Huh?" She replied, somewhat startled at Atton's forwardness.

"You have something on your mind—is it another lesson about Theresa?" He asked, before he looked at her, grinning lopsidedly. "Or is it about the troubling love life between you and the new guy?"

Her face was flushed with mild embarrassment. "We are not lovers, Atton—merely colleagues who share a similar passion and understanding with the Force."

"Uh huh," he replied, unconvinced. "You have a thing for him."

"Jedi do not have things, Atton," she reminded him.

"So what do you call the relationship I had—I have—with Theresa?" The sound of her name stirred up the feeling of his body tingling from the extremities towards his heart. Theresa.

"That was a relationship—and you aren't exactly a Jedi," she relied brusquely.

"Whoa," he chuckled, "no need to get defensive." He kept his grin planted on his face as he replied, "and last I checked, you were supposed to complete my training, as per our fearless leader's orders."

"It doesn't help that you chose to run off in search of her—she left for reasons that we cannot comprehend, but must respect nonetheless."

"Right, and I'm a shaved wookiee," he replied sourly. "Look," he said, his tone and expression softening, "So what exactly was on your mind, Princess?"

Ignoring the nickname, Visas merely replied, "that is none of your business."

He scoffed, "oh come on, I'm trying to offer you free advice here."

"I'd rather go to the droids for advice than you."

He sighed. If she weren't going to tell him, then she'd have left a long time ago. As it stood, he needed her to put a challenge in front of him—as long as it was something that would keep him busy and keep his mind off of Theresa. He still couldn't understand why she had left—on some fool's errand to save the former Dark Lord of the Sith who probably fell to the Dark Side once more. He couldn't bear the thought of being without her—it was a miracle he had managed to go this long without her as it were. Cantinas had provided him the opportunity to bury his thoughts, his mind and more importantly, his sorrows, for a while—if only for a short time.

I sure hope that Visas' loverboy certainly knows what he is doing. The only reason I'm still here, piloting this heap and ready to complete my training, is because when he goes in search of her, I'll be able to come with him. He sighed once more, forgetting his interest in Visas' trouble, as he remembered his own. Hang on, Babe, I'll come and get you. He noticed the swirl of hyperspace again. Soon, I hope.

"You're right," Visas said, after a few moments. "He will help you—and I must confess that I have never felt the way I do when I am around him."

Atton grinned. "Welcome to a whole new world, Visas."


Dante strode on to the ramp after they had found a beam that the Jedi Knight could land on safely—or as safe as one could be, several thousand feet in the air. He turned around and noticed Visas standing off to the side, as Atton raced down the ramp.

"Tell me why we're on Corellia again?" He rasped over the wind that howled outside.

"To have a discussion with the Director of Republic Intelligence," Dante replied evenly, his coat billowing about. He wouldn't take them with him—he needed them in case he ran into any trouble he couldn't get out of.

"You're not going to do something stupid, are you?" Atton asked.

Dante smiled, shaking his head. "No, I am just going to go have some tea and chat with the Director. You're there just in case anything gets too hot for me to handle."

"You sure you don't want us to come along?" He asked cautiously.

"You and Visas would do better on the ship—keep it primed and ready to snatch me when I give the signal."

"And what's the signal, 'oh Fearless One?'"

"You'll know it when you see it," Dante replied, his eyes glancing towards Visas. "Make sure he doesn't do something like fly out of here when I need you guys the most."

"Rest assured that we will be waiting for you," she replied. "May the Force be with you."

"You too," Dante muttered as he turned and leapt off the ramp towards the beam, landing safely.

"I hope your loverboy doesn't do something stupid," Atton replied.

"He'll be fine," Visas said. Her conversation with Atton in the cockpit had gone better than expected.

"Come on," Atton said after a moment, "you can help me hone my skills while we wait for him."

Dante watched as the vessel rose and moved away to join the countless other vehicles that moved about. "It's been so long since I have been here," he muttered. This is where I met Rena—and saved her from a life as a slave. He looked about and he steadied himself as he ignited his sapphire lightsaber, tearing through the transparisteel glass. Well, I better go and announce myself, he mused as he passed through the hole in the glass and noticed a clear hallway, adorned in dark, metallic plating and white walls. This is going to take a while.


Lotus walked towards her long, sleek skiffer. As she entered the vessel, she noticed a channel beeping. Closing the door, she sat down and opened the channel. "Yes?"

"Ah, Lotus Xa," a green-skinned Neimoidian senator said.

"Do you have what I requested, Senator?"

"Of course," he replied. "Apparently, the Jedi you look for—this Dante Ravenmoon—has an Apprentice. Her name is Rena Naver—and she seems linked to the Corellia project."

"Naver?" Lotus grinned. So, she has finally showed herself. "Well done, Senator Greco," she replied. "I shall be en route to Coruscant—and you shall have your payment when I arrive."

"Very good, Mistress," Greco replied, before his face winked out.

Fool, she looked up and began to think about how best to get to Coruscant. She noticed Horn and Torn moving in perfect unison towards a vessel of their own. Maybe I can use them for this, she thought as she jumped out of her chair and left the vessel, racing towards them.

The pair hardly noticed her until she called out to them and caused them to pause.

"Horn, Torn—perfect. What does Mistress Traya require of you?"

Horn looked at his brother, who in turn chose to speak.

"She has asked us to relieve her of the Senators that were responsible for creating us."

Lotus looked at both of them and decided to ask, "how would you feel about eliminating Tamar?"

"If the Mistress permits it, it shall be done."

"She has," the woman said stiffly.

"How can that be? She told us personally," Horn replied.

"She told me via comlink," Lotus quipped. "Regardless, she would like me to go to Coruscant and relieve the both of you of that favour, while you go to Corellia and eliminate Director Gran'gerst and the Jedi Knight he is in league with."

"He is in league with the Jedi?" Torn inquired.

"Yes—which is why she sent me to deal with them."

"So why has she changed her decision?"

Lotus sighed inwardly. I better do something quickly if it means getting them to go along with this. "She feels my skills are lacking where yours are vastly superior. Eliminate the Bothan and the Jedi."

They looked at each other and nodded. "Very well," Torn replied.

Lotus smiled inwardly. Good, I have some other things that need to be carried out, she thought. Jumping back into her vessel, she gunned the engines, leaving at a distance comfortable enough to make the jump to lightspeed.


They had burst through, walking through the beacon of light as a river of black. Their crimson lightsabers blocked the defences of the Jedi Temple, as several fell from the relentless onslaught of the energy weapons that held it together.

They spread through the place, led by Deus, who had torn away from the group, hunting for some Jedi.

A group of Dark Jedi waltzed towards the Jedi Council chambers, only to stop in front of the hallway that branched towards the chambers and the dormitories.

"Welcome to the Jedi Temple—I hope your visit here will be short," Ash said, standing in the center of the 6 Jedi Masters. To his right stood Tarn, with his emerald lightsaber ignited. To Ash's left stood Jolee, his emerald blade flared. To Tarn's right stood Frreral with his golden lightsaber and to Jolee's left stood Len and then Sneed, with their emerald blades.

The Dark Jedi responded by charging at the Jedi Masters.

The Jedi Masters retaliated by raising their hands at the same time and dropping their hands rapidly, crushing the Dark Jedi under a fallen beam.

"That was fun," Jolee mumbled.

"Let's go!" Len said, as they moved about, charging towards the other Dark Jedi that had noticed the arrival of the Masters.

Suddenly, a halting voice called out. "This party is over!"

Several Dark Jedi noticed the presence of a dark skinned man, who was bald and wielded a pulsating violet blade.

Before anyone could reply, Cyrin Jace leapt at the trio who stood between him and the other Masters.


The small, cloaked figure trudged up the stairs, and towards the melted entrance. An audible sigh escaped his lips as he lowered his head in shame. I am too late.

Suddenly his ears perked up as he heard the clashing of lightsabers and the screams of several fallen Dark Jedi. Not late! He raced through the entrance and spotted four Dark Jedi who noticed him.

They ignited their crimson lightsabers. "Fight us, half-pint!" One of them sneered, as the others laughed.

"Size matters not," the figure replied, as he removed his hood and revealed the diminutive, green-skinned, elfin Jedi Master Vandar Tokare. He ignited his small emerald lightsaber. "As long as the Force, have I!"

The group of four charged at the small Master, who replied by taking up a warcry as he leapt on to a pillar beside him and jumped out towards the Dark Jedi, slashing one across the chest and sending the remaining three back with the outward extension of his small three-fingered hand.

The three spaced out as they slashed upward and across, missing the tiny figure by mere moments and clashing with a blur of green.

Vandar jumped into a butterfly attack, evading the down swooping slash of a crimson blade, as he landed on the ground adjacent to the Dark Jedi attacking him, and rotated in a 180-degree spin, lopping off the Dark Jedi's hand and thrusting the blade into the man's chest.

Attempting to seize the moment, another Dark Jedi brought his lightsaber down on the diminutive humanoid, cutting a swath of air where Vandar had been but moments before. He turned around and noticed that the Master had jumped off a beam, towards him. Before he could react, a hot searing pain had found its way into his chest and he collapsed.

Vandar retrieved his blade and angled it upright, deftly blocking a diagonally downward slash. Smacking the blade away, he summoned the Force about him and jumped onto a pillar, caroming towards another one, narrowly missing the crimson streaks that tried to strike at him. Growling, the centuries' old Master flipped over the Dark Jedi and extended his hand, sending a wave of the Force crushing down on his opponent, crushing his life from him in an instant.

The Dark Jedi only groaned as his last breath left him, leaving his crumpled form on the cratered ground where the Force wave had struck.

Vandar landed safely and looked about. "Judge me by my size, do you?" The Master looked around and began to walk away. "Out of exile I am—save the others, I must."


Author's Notes: All right, that probably wasn't a whole lot to take in at one time. Since I've practically finished Catharsis, expect the updates to be coming to roughly 2-3 times a week or until I run out of chapters or get to the Epilogue. The final installment will be coming along shortly, but as I mentioned beforehand, I will be doing more work on Rise of Darth Revan and Lost Cause. Also be on the lookout for a few one-shots that will come along, thanks to Trillian4210's Forums.