Someone decides this is probably an excellent time to sit next to her.

"Hey," says the someone.

She does not even turn to look at him. "No." 

Catienne is not the in mood for well-meaning fellow students.

... He snorts a little laugh, amused.

"No?" he says, mock-hurt. "But you haven't even heard my pitch yet, I could be offering you tickets to Suurja for all you know."

"Suurja..?" Catienne turns, and takes in the man sitting next to her. He seems familiar-

"Do I know you? And why are you offering me tickets to a Mandalorian War front?"

"You might! I'm one of those annoying Jedi that just meddles with everyone."

Then his light tone drops, and he suddenly turns very serious. "Because as I see it, unless someone does something, we'll all be speaking Mando'a in a decade or two."

"That's what I keep telling Master Atris! But she- all of them. All of them keep saying that there's something larger at play. But I can't sense it! All I can sense is the Mandalorians slaughtering their way to the core." As she speaks, her hands form fists. A Jedi walks by with a datapad, which is quickly flung out of their hands and smashed on the wall.

The man makes a conciliatory gesture towards the Jedi, approximating, I'm sorry, don't worry about it, I've got this. He looks back to Catienne.

"There might certainly be something larger at play," allows Revan. "I think the Jedi Council are onto something, there. But... have you ever played Dejarik?"

Catienne tilted her head curiously. The man certainly had her attention now. 

"I've played in the past. What of it?"

"There's almost always something larger at play. When you're playing against anyone good, anyway. But do you win the game by never moving to fight for the board?"

"So...by never fighting, you end up losing?"

"Can't win something if you don't fight for it," he says, then amends, "Or if you wait too long, you might lose things you can't afford to. When you finally start playing, you're behind, because the other guy's been free to run rampant while you were figuring out what their plan was."

He leans back on the bench, crossing his arms and looking up into space, as if seeing a possible future.

"How willing do you think the galaxy will be to listen to us, if we show up at the very end? 'Ah, yes, now is the time to act. The deaths of your loved ones and friends were worth it, it's all part of our grand plan'? Is that the kind of thing that warms the hearts of the people in danger? How much do you think we could do, after everyone's become so accustomed to our inaction? We're losing more than just lives to the Mandalorians, here."

His words resonate with Catienne. She can see exactly what he is saying. She's said similar things to Atris herself. The idea that while the Republic fights to ensure the safety of everyone, the Jedi held back, just in case there was something larger? The supposed peacekeepers of the galaxy, unwilling to help when they are needed most?

"That's true. And every day we wait, more lives are lost. More worlds are scarred. But what do you plan to do about it? You're just one man. I'm just one girl. How can we stop what the Republic Army can't?"

"We're Jedi. We have this habit of being in the right place at the right time. Do you know how many commanders would kill for that? Setting aside the more direct Force powers and the lightsaber skills and the reflexes and the ability to dominate the battlefield, just being in the right place at the right time is enormous. Just following a team of commandos around, saying, 'No, not that way — no, wait, okay now,' would turn the tide of battles. And that isn't even everything. Advanced knowledge and situational awareness the enemy doesn't have, ability to communicate long distances over channels the enemy can't break into, the ability to tell the emotional states of the enemy commanders... Numbers are nice and all, but if Force users are distributed properly, bolstering the forces already there — how many do you actually think we'd need?"

Catienne could feel her heart thumping in her chest. The build of adrenaline, the sudden wave of need to fight, it was like electricity in her veins. It was like he reached in and turned a switch on in her. Before, she wanted to bring in everyone, change the Master's minds, have the Jedi rise up together to end the threat. But now, she could see how even just a small group could turn the tide. And that thrilled her.

"You're making it seem too easy, but I have to admit it's the soundest plan I've heard. The right Jedi in the right place could stop any more worlds from falling. But do we have enough for that? And what of the Masters? They won't agree to this."

"The right Jedi in the right place could retake the worlds that have fallen," he corrects smoothly, with just a hint of a very pretty smile. "And to be honest I'm not expecting them to. They — can't, really. If the Jedi officially go to war, how can they later avoid getting called into another? As to if we have enough without them..."

And there is the full pretty smile. "I'm working on it."

Atris voice swam through her head. Control your emotions. You're too sensitive, too emotional. Do not get attached to hopeless causes. 
Catienne smiles, and completely disregards it. 

"You sound like you're recruiting for your own army. A merry band of saviours, perhaps?"

"That's the idea, anyway. Admittedly, though, we are going to be flying into a warzone. I don't want to lie to people and say it's all going to be all sunshine and everlilies."

"No, not where Mandalorians are concerned. Not very likely to see everlilies in between the bodies."

Catienne tilts her head, studying the man. "Once you have this group, how will you convince the Republic to let us help?"

"Let us?" he repeats, amused. "I think all we need to do is show up and do something suitably impressive, and no one with an ounce of sense will bear to tell us to leave."

Catienne ducks her head, slightly blushing. "Well, I was heading to the War one way or another. May as well be with someone who knows what they're going to do about it." She peeks up through her eyelashes. "I suppose you're right. They've been begging the Jedi to help for a while now. Even if the only ones who turn up are padawans," she laughs, albeit nervously.

"I've mostly been recruiting full Jedi; you're an exception. I didn't get the impression you were going to stick around much longer."

"You're not wrong, though I would wonder how you knew that. Without me telling you...just before," Catienne says. Her eyes are downcast, though her body tenses. "It was just getting exhausting, listening to report after report on how the Mandalorians are killing the Outer Rim and yet we just sit here and do nothing. I wanted to help. I needed to help."

"Well, I've got good news and bad news. Good news, they need help. The bad news, of course, is that they need help." He smiles at her. "... See, now I could just nod sagely and say I know these things, or I could just be honest and admit that it was the yelling. Sorry, but ah. You weren't very subtle."

“Ha!” Catienne throws her head back. “Of course it was. Maybe Atris is right, I should learn to control my temper. Clearly it’s what I’m best recognised for.”

She bits her lip, looking ruefully at the man. “It wasn’t always like this. I just feel so...so pressured to be the Jedi ideal rather than me. I want to be both. I want to be Catienne who is also a Jedi. You know?” She sighs. “I’m blathering about nothing.”

"It doesn't sound like nothing. You can be a Jedi without giving up who you are. Has someone been telling you otherwise?"

“Have you met Atris?”

Catienna puts on a cold, serious tone. “One can only show true compassion by having no emotional stake in the situation.”

She laughs, bitterly. “She wouldn’t know true compassion if it was bleeding out in front of her.”

"Being a Force user is difficult. Care too much, and you're an emotional wreck if anything goes wrong. Care too little..." He trails off, and waves a hand expressively. And you've seen the results. "Of the two fail states, it's the more comfortable one. But I don't think it helps anything to keep trying to learn from someone you don't mesh well with, and call me crazy, but I don't think you're getting along well with her. Atris hasn't sent you to anyone else?"

"That's...not really how things work, at least not for me.. If I had a choice, I'd probably be paired with Kavar. He's the only master who wants to fight the Mandalorians."

Catienne sighs. "I guess they want me to learn from Atris, rather than have my worst qualities amplified. I just don't see how doing nothing inspires the need to help."

"There's some benefit to being paired with someone with a different perspective than yours—rather than just affirming everything you know, you learn to question your beliefs and see things in a different point of view.

"But that's not what's happening here. What's happening here is that you're getting into philosophical fights with your master, which is doing the exact opposite of what the point of the whole thing is. Because when people feel constantly challenged and misunderstood, they're too isolated for that kind of exchange. So they buckle down and dig in, because it's not safe to do anything else. Mentally, I mean, I don't think Atris is going to whip out her lightsaber and stab you or anything. It's just a lot to ask someone, and it's often unwelcome when it's not from a place of mutual understanding and trust."

“Ah. The ‘t’ word. No, Atris doesn’t trust me. The only people she trusts are the ones like her. I guess her training methods must work because I’m not the first Padawan she’s trained, but...yeah. I just feel like I’m banging my head against a brick wall.” 

Catienne sighs, slumping forward with her head in her hands. “I wouldn’t put it past her to just stab me one day. Probably a lot easier than slowly blugdeoning me to death with words.”

"I think you need a new instructor. This one clearly isn't working out for you."

“Are you offering?”