Well, I can see from the astounding number of reviews of the last chapter that people absolutely loved it. :) Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter a little better. I admit I'm not even satisfied with the last couple. And following the amazingly disappointing ending to "A Casualty of War", I need to do some writing of my own. As usual, I didn't get this chapter out as early as I wanted to, but I thank you guys for being patient.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I think… Yup, I don't.

Chapter 17: Conflicts

Atris sat alone in the academy's archives. For days, she had studied and pondered the Sith holocrons that until recently, she had barely even touched. The past few nights had proved almost sleepless for her. For hours straight, she sat studying and meditating on the ancient Sith teachings that lay before her. As she sat there, brooding, the voice of an ancient Sith speaking a long-forgotten language spoke in the background.

Atris had never realized how fascinating and strangely alluring these teachings really were. It had begun with Kreia's words to her. Atris had pondered them, even reminded herself repeatedly that the dark side was never to be used or studied. She even recited the Jedi Code to herself numerous times to keep herself away from them. But eventually, the temptation proved too great. Her glance at these holocrons quickly turned into a skimming. The skimming turned into reading. The reading turned quickly into studying, which then soon turned into…an obsession.

The Jedi Masters had of course noticed her strange behavior as of late. Atris had always been self-reserved, but now she was even more so than usual. Few of them, mostly Vandar and Kavar, had asked her if she was alright. Atris of course insisted that she was okay, that she was merely tired, that they need not pry. Vandar had asked her as to what she was doing in the archives, why she had kept herself locked in them for hours on end. Her excuses were anything she could come up with. That she was searching for records, trying to find information on the Sith, making sure the archives were kept up to date, anything.

Amazingly, Kreia, who had instigated this, hadn't questioned Atris once regarding this. Kreia was now a guest and resident at the Academy, as she really had nowhere else to go. Kreia and Atris would occasionally cross paths, but neither would say a word to each other.

Atris though engrossed in these recent studies, had become increasingly aware that she was starting to be swayed by all she had heard. Kreia's previous words now echoed within her as loudly as ever. She swore to herself that she would never use the dark side for herself. But never did she know the subject was so fascinating.

In the midst of her studies, Atris heard a dry voice break the silence.

"Learning anything?"

Atris jerked around to meet the voice which had undoubtedly belonged to Kreia. The old woman's frail figure stood in the doorframe to the archives. Atris didn't know how Kreia had managed to approach her without her sensing it, but it had shocked her enough for Kreia to see plainly.

"How-how long have you been here?" Atris asked her flatly.

"Does it matter? I'm here, aren't I?" the sly woman responded. "But to answer you, long enough to tell what you were doing."

Atris was aware of the nervousness that had already built up inside of her. "I, I was only-"

Kreia raised a hand. "Ah! No need to cover up your actions. I have no desire to inform the Jedi Council of your actions anyway. I merely wished to enquire exactly what you were doing. There's no denying you were looking at that Sith holocron. Is that a bad thing? I wasn't aware that was a crime."

"It's not," Atris stuttered. "A Jedi Master may at times examine them for information, but…"

"You were worried someone might think you were studying them for a different reason. Am I right?"

"Y-Yes," Atris breathed. Kreia approached Atris without making a sound. The old woman raised a hand as if she was about to make a point.

"There are two sides of the force, Atris: light and dark. The Jedi fear the darkside, but what they fail to understand is that they are part of the same force. They would have you believe the darkside is never to be used, but that is a lie, Atris."

"But the darkside is evil, Kreia."

"Is it?" the old woman mused. "What is evil, Atris? Would you then say the force itself is evil? And who are we to say what is evil and what is not? Is there even such a thing?"

"I don't understand," Atris stated flatly.

"The Jedi Masters live in their own world, Atris," Kreia replied sharply. "They fear that which they do not know, the darkside among many things. They believe it is evil, but they do not understand it. Tell me, Atris, what do you feel about what you have seen?"

The Jedi Master faltered. Her expression was almost that of guilt. "I admit," she finally stuttered. "It has proven to be quite alluring." She didn't notice the slight smile appear on Kreia's face. "I have found myself sometimes even wondering what it would be like if I had followed that philosophy instead. Sometimes I found myself even questioning our own code."

"But it didn't start with these holocrons, did it? Your doubt was planted long ago by one of your own. By the one your council refers to as the exile."

Atris's eyes rolled as if she were recalling some distant memory. "I remember that day," she explained. "The day he left to fight the Mandalorian wars. He and Revan seemed so…right. And it made me ponder. I spent so much time thinking about why we hadn't joined the war. Why I hadn't joined. When he came back, he was a different person. But he still had those seeds of rebellion in him. When he thrust his lightsaber into the stone and left, I felt the slightest urge to go with him."

"And you will need to contrast, Atris, in order to fully understand. You must look at things from other than the perspective of your peers. And then, you must look at the force as a whole. Only then will you realize that the Jedi code does not give all the answers. If you want to know true power, Atris, you must make your own decisions. Even if it means harnessing the power of both sides."

"But the darkside is-"

"Evil? How so? Some would say it is freedom. The freedom to express yourself. The freedom to do what you please. The freedom to develop yourself to your potential. And what about the Jedi code? Forcing others to keep their minds closed, telling others what to do, how to think, to abstain from the very things everyone else is allowed to – would you not consider that evil as well?"

Atris remained silent.

"There is one thing about war that is well-known: one of the greatest weapons against your enemies is their own. And this goes the same for the darkside as well. Learn to control it, instead of it controlling you, and you will then know true power."

Atris sighed. "I must have time to reflect on this. I am…tired."

"Very well. I will leave you be, then. But please, consider my words," Kreia whispered. Just then, they heard someone approaching. Atris immediately switched off the Sith holocron. From what she sensed, Master Kavar was coming, and he seemed rather distressed. Within moments, he appeared in the doorway of the archives.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing. We were just talking," Atris responded as calmly as she could.

"I do not wish to interrupt, but I have bad news," Kavar told them.

"What?" Atris asked.

"We received a transmission from the strike team sent to Dantooine. They've encountered some difficulties," he replied.

"Why? What's happened?" she asked anxiously.

"The team met found and fought with the Sith. From what they gathered, they were there to recover some sort of 'artifact'. Revan and the rest tried to stop them, but the Sith got away with whatever they'd be searching for."

"What has Revan done? Is he still there?"

"That's the problem," Kavar spoke. "He and a few others just left immediately for Dantooine without even telling us. They're probably there by now."

"He just left without even consulting us first?"

"It is Revan we are talking about, Master Atris."

"Some things never change. And what about Bastila? Did she go with him?" Atris asked as she stood up.

Kavar paused uneasily. "No. She is still on Dantooine. But she is not well."

"What's wrong?"

"I am not sure exactly, she may have been severely wounded in battle. They only told me that she is quite ill. She may be dying."

Suddenly, Atris felt dizzy. Before she could stumble she put a hand on the wall to steady herself.

"That is why I came to see you. Vandar has requested that the Jedi council meet to discuss what has transpired and see what to do. I trust you will attend?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Then I will see you there," Kavar replied. He turned, shot a look at Kreia, who had been silent the whole time, and left. Once again, the two female masters stood alone in the archives.

"Consider my words," Kreia said with a piercing tone. Without making a sound, she turned and left.

The refugee sector was gloomy, to say the least. Civilians in dirty white suits dotted the dark gray surroundings. Most of them surprisingly paid Quaid and his companions no heed. He guess that with the exchange's tight hold on the sector, seeing bounty hunters must have been fairly common. He figured that's what most of them thought they were – exchange workers.

"Excuse me!" Quaid called out to a man walking by. "Where is your leader? We need to speak with him."

"If you want to know what's going on, talk to Houssef. He's over there." The man pointed at a group of small huts near the center of the large area.

"Thank you," Quaid replied. The man didn't respond but just kept walking. Quaid, Visas, Yuthura, and HK headed toward where the man had directed them.

"Excuse me. Where is Houssef?" Quaid asked one of them once they had neared the area.

"He's right over there. You'll find him outside his hut."

Sure enough, they found a few men gathered outside a small group of living structures. In the very center, a small fire burned. The four companions stopped near the group of chatting men, who had taken notice of their arrival.

"What do you want? Are you from the exchange?" one of them asked as they approached. The man had a faint brown beard and mustache, and looked like he was going partially bald at the top.

"Are you Houssef?" Quaid asked him.

"Yes, I am he. Is there something you want?" he asked again.

"Yes. If I may take some of your time, I only need a little information," Quaid replied.

"Well, that is what I am here for. You'll have to excuse my abrupt behavior, the exchange has been coming here quite often recently. I thought you might have been them."

"What has the exchange been doing here?" Yuthura asked him.

"A lot of things. But recently they've been coming in and meeting up with people around here. Mostly it's the young men around here they've been coming to. They're hiring them for something, but I don't know what."

"Why has the exchange been keeping such a tight grip over this community?" Quaid asked him.

"Woah, slow down a minute. Who are you, anyway, and why do you want to know all this? Are you new to the area?"

"We are. And let's just say we are interested in finding out about this planet."

"Well, I won't stop you. I won't ask why you come to me, but I'll tell you what I know."

"So, why is the exchange operating here?"

Houssef sighed. "It's a long story. Why don't you sit down? I'm afraid the living space inside is rather cramped, so it's a little more comfortable out here." Around the fire were cushions for makeshift seats. Quaid and the other two sat down, while HK continued to stand watch.

"Let's see, where do I begin?" Houssef started. "After the Mandalorian wars, many of the veterans of the wars had no place to go. Not to mention there were a lot of people driven from there homes. To make a long story short, many people couldn't go back home, so many people decided to settle here. Most people had hoped to be here temporarily, but instead the stay ended up being permanent."

"What happened to them?" Yuthura asked.

"Unfortunately for them, the Exchange was operating on this planet and found out about the refugee problem. We all know how the Exchange likes credits. They saw a golden opportunity here," he paused and sighed again. "The Exchange had owned some areas around here and had agreed to let the settlers stay there. Unfortunately, it came at a heavy price, literally. The Exchange decided to place a heavy tax on the refugees living here. Most of us earn meager earnings anyway, and with the tax here, many can only afford the clothes on their own backs. It's not an easy life, needless to say."

"But I don't understand. Why not just leave?" Quaid asked him.

"A lot of reasons. For one thing, many don't have anywhere else to go. Most of us don't have enough credits to get off this planet. As if that wasn't bad enough, the Exchange isn't so willing to give up one of their sources of income on this planet. So they've pretty much made it clear they don't intend to let us leave. So in the end, most of us are stuck here."

"That is awful!" Yuthura replied.

"It's not easy for us here, but we manage to survive. I myself am really more of a representative here than a leader, anyway. The Exchange comes to me mostly for discussions around here, and I'm the one the refugees rely on to make decisions, though there aren't much to be made."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Houssef. The Exchange is a ruthless organization," Quaid replied.

"And there you have our little story. I'm afraid there isn't much else to say. People here have just lost hope. The only hopes of getting out of here is working with the Exchange, which, I'm sorry to say, seems to be happening more and more now."

"Well, thanks for your time, Houssef," Quaid shook his hand. "You were a great help. I just have one more question: do you think it'd be possible for us to get hired, too?"

"Looking for a job, eh? I figured. Nope, I don't think you'll have much trouble with that."

"Good. But don't take us wrong, Houssef." Quaid whispered into his ear. "We are no friends of the Exchange."

"Hmm. Well, good luck to you then. If you want to meet up with them, just find one of their thugs and discuss meeting up with Visquis. You won't have to look very far, the Exchange is everywhere. Now, is there something else I can help you with?"

"No, you have been a great help. Thank you."

Quaid and the rest walked out of the refugee area, discussing what they had just learned.

"I don't know. I've heard so much about the Exchange hiring those refugees," Quaid spoke. "They're up to something, that much is for sure. And if they're working with the Sith, I'm betting somehow those two things are linked."

"I think you're right," Yuthura agreed. "I think the best way to handle this is to try and infiltrate the Exchange. If we have any luck, we'll be able to get to the bottom of this."

"I'll have to speak with Revan about this. I hope he's found out something as well."

"We may also want to contact Jolee and see how the ship is doing."

"That's fine." Quaid's mind suddenly turned to Visas. "Yuthura, why don't you contact Jolee and Revan. I need to speak with Visas for a moment."

Yuthura looked at him suspiciously. Quaid thought she was going to object, but ended up nodding and reaching for her communicator.

"Visas, there was something you wished to tell me?" he asked her.

The small Miraluka nodded. "Yes. But I would like for us to be somewhere private."

"Very well." Quaid turned to HK. "HK, would you mind standing guard next to Yuthura? Just keep watch beside her while we're talking."

"Compliance: As you wish, overseer. I will see to it that your purple tentacle-headed meatbag comes under no harm." The bloodthirsty droid raised his rifle, almost as if he were holding a trophy, and walked away to join Yuthura.

Out of the corner of his eye, Quaid spotted a small, dark alley between two buildings. Quaid gestured with his hand, and she followed him. Once there, the two of them stood face to face.

Visas bowed her head. "I'm afraid I have not been entirely open to you about everything. I have been especially secretive about my past. And…I know that your friend, Revan, is under a terrible amount of stress right now."

"Yeah, I've noticed," Quaid replied dryly. "What does it have to do with you?"

"I know how he feels, the loss of the one he loves would be a devastating loss to him. But I wanted to tell you, Bastila…was a friend of mine as well. I knew her."

Quaid practically jerked back in shock. "You…know her?" he asked.

"Yes. I never told you, but Bastila and I had trained together when we were apprentices. We were close friends, best friends, during our time on Dantooine." She gave a silent, sad laugh. "I always knew she would be a great Jedi someday. But we didn't see each other after I left Dantooine."

"Why did you leave Dantooine?" Quaid asked. But then the realization came to him. "You wanted to be with your people, didn't you?"

"I did. My family had brought me to Dantooine so I may be trained in the ways of the force. My people are force-sensitive, but my parents had hoped I would receive great training and become a Jedi. But after I attained the rank of "Padawan", I left Dantooine to join my people on Katarr. I wanted to help them. Bastila and I had promised to meet each other again eventually, but it was never to be."

"Things happened, right?"

"A lot of things happened. The Mandalorian Wars happened. My family and I fled to Coruscant. And then, of course, the Jedi Civil War happened. The Jedi were being attacked in every stratagem of war. Bastila's talent was discovered, and she was brought to the front lines. I of course had joined the Republic in its fight as well, but I never did see her. When the wars were over, I was rejoiced to find out she was still alive. I learned all about her fall to the darkside and her journey back, as well as what had happened to Revan as well. But I was still needed at home. Katarr had been weakened after the wars, and I wanted to help rebuild it. But I was so happy. I promised myself that as soon as I could, I would go and see her." She lowered her head once more. "But that too, never happened."

Quaid frowned. "Katarr was…"

"Then, he came," Visas choked. "The entire colony was destroyed. Lord Nihilus spared me only, and took me in as his apprentice, and made me what you see now."

"Oh Visas, I'm sorry," Quaid tried to comfort her.

"When I was given my mission, I dreaded it. I feared I would have to confront you, Revan, or her. The entire time, I just could not bring myself to face her, so I went after you instead. And when you caught me, I feared that I would have to confront Bastila again. I was so ashamed. I didn't want her to see me because I knew she wouldn't want to see me…like this."

Quaid placed his hands on her shoulders.

"And when I heard what had happened to her, I was so ashamed and afraid. Deep down, I felt I was partly to blame. I couldn't help but think I was partly responsible. And that is one reason why I decided to follow you. I did not want to let her down. I wanted to make it up to her."

"Visas, I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell us?"

"It was fear on my part, and shame. When I heard what happened to her on Dantooine, I wanted to say something, but I just couldn't. And my master had always told me such feelings were weakness."

"Oh Visas, we've been over this before. Having concern for those you love doesn't make you weak. I've always thought that not being afraid to show your true emotions for anything was strength in itself."

Visas gave a weak smile, much to his relief. "I can see why the Jedi followed you, exile. You do have a way with words. But if you don't mind, may I ask you a question, now?"

"By all means."

"You have been through many terrible things in your lifetime as well. In your short lifetime, you've seen more than many would in their entire lives. And yet, you still seem to have determination. Despite all the death and destruction you've seen, you still have hope. You still value life. Why?"

Quaid paused. That wasn't an easy question to answer. "Well, I did lose hope for a while, Visas. But during my exile, I learned things as well. Death and misery is unavoidable. But what gives me strength is that I know that there is good in the galaxy. There are things worth fighting for. I guess my experiences in the Mandalorian wars showed me how precious life is. And so, I fight to preserve it. I don't know if that even makes sense, but hey."

Visas nodded. "I think it makes sense."

Quaid cupped his hand over her chin and raised her head so her unseen eyes met. "Hey, you're on our side now, right? Don't worry about whatever you might have done with the Sith. I haven't known you for very long, Visas, but I can tell it's not who you are. You're with us now, and you're part of the team. We are here to support each other, you included, alright? So don't ever feel like you need to be left out, alright?"

Visas smiled. "Thank you," she whispered. Quaid returned the smile, and the two continued to gaze at each other.

"Quaid? Visas? Are you two done, yet?" Yuthura's voice suddenly snapped the two back into reality. The two of them quickly exited the alley onto the street.

"Look, I contacted Revan, and they're on their way back to the Ebon Hawk. He said he'd meet us there to discuss things. But he said we should avoid being seen together if we can, so we shouldn't head back until later to discuss what we've found."

"Good idea," Quaid nodded. "We could all use some rest, anyway."

"The sooner we get back, the better. I was done talking to Revan for some time before you two finished. This droid here didn't make things any easier."

"Objection: Overseer, I was merely trying to inform your purple meatbag how her tentacles could prove very useful target practice given ideal conditions."

"That is what I am talking about," Yuthura growled.

Quaid stifled a laugh. "Okay, let's go."

Revan, Mission, and Atton exited the Cantina. They were headed for the Ebon Hawk, preparing to discuss and rest for the day and continue the search later. Time was of the essence, though, and Revan knew they couldn't afford to rest for long.

"Well, we do know a couple things now," Revan said to the other two. "I think if we want to find the Sith, we'll have to go through the Exchange. How we'll do it is another issue."

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Atton added. "I don't think Visquis intends to avoid me for very long, if you get my drift."

"I guess this means I'm still your 'servant', right, Rev?" Mission asked glumly.

"Unfortunately for you, yes," he replied teasingly.

"Oh, great."

Revan was momentarily distracted when he heard laughing behind them. As he turned, he noticed two male Twi'leks looking at them, laughing to themselves.

"Is there something wrong?" Revan asked them in an annoyed tone.

The two of them looked at him with fake innocence. "Oh, nothing," the blue one replied. We just notice the company you keep." He pointed at Atton, who only glared back at them.

"The Exchange is definitely after you, I'd watch your back if I were you." The two Twi'leks approached them. "Just watch out, okay, and you'll be fine," the red Twi'Lek told him. "Although…" he whispered into Revan's ear, "Watch out for those you think are your friends, too. You may be surprised what you find out about them."

Revan was both confused and a little nervous. He couldn't tell for sure, but he had a hunch they were referring to Atton.

"Well, we'd better get going," the red one said. The two of them hurried off.

"What did he whisper to you?" Atton asked curiously.

Revan almost told him, but held his tongue. Something told him he should refrain. "Oh, nothing," he lied. "We should get going."

Atton looked at him suspiciously, but eventually shrugged and turned around. Mission shot confused glances at the two. Revan motioned for her to follow, and the three made their way back to the Ebon Hawk.

The plot thickens! Well, with midterms going on, I couldn't really finish this chapter when I wanted to. Hopefully, I'll soon have more time to write, since I'm now in the second semester of high school and am done with college applications. (Yay) :) Hope you guys liked it, and as usual, please read and review. Until next time, adios.