K’tana has endured many trials since joining the Shadow Clan and has survived each and every one of them. Her mind and body have been beaten and battered, leaving her with a bottomless void that she once tried to fill with mindless violence and lust. She has experienced desire, loss, trust and betrayal. The Savant is rarely impressed by threats, as very few of them can actually match the suffering she has already endured. And yet she still wakes up every morning to face the day's challenges. Her willpower is not blunt or obvious to others as she is no cliff that stoically weathers against a storm at sea. K’tana is more like a lively willow branch. While she can look thin and fragile as she sways to the wind, she will bend but never snap.

K’tana has buckled down and put all her focus into evolving herself as a leader. She bites the bullet, does her paperwork, assigns tasks, heeds advice, takes missions, and pushes her body to the limits. She frequently forgets to eat or sleep and occasionally passes out on her desk from exhaustion. However, she sees the work as an obligation rather than a responsibility. With the tedious nature of her work the Twi’lek has discovered the peculiar form of insanity that comes with having a thankless job. Without gleaning feelings of accomplishment, K’tana has found herself believing that she is nothing more than an insignificant cog in a vast machine that would work fine without her.

The only thing that K'tana has ever truly empathized with is a blank sheet of flimsiplast. Often filled with words and colors, they're all just painted over a blank page underneath. She doesn’t know if she was born this way, or if she has just felt so many conflicting things that now, she simply feels nothing. Where once she tried to fake emotion to fit external needs, she realizes that it no longer works and is left to wonder if it did in the first place. All she has left to stare at beneath her manic mask is the hollow shell where her heart should have been. K'tana's dearth of sincere emotion not only leaves her troubled when trying to connect to others, but troubled with herself. And when she is alone, away from the feelings of others that splatter on her like paint, she finds herself apathetic and numb.

While K’tana is almost completely numb, she still occasionally manages to find moments of enjoyment. In this, she does not cackle with glee or grin with smugness. Instead, embers of enjoyment stir within her heart and as time goes on she seeks out those moments more and more desperately, hoping against hope that collecting such sparks of life will cause the void in her heart to blaze back to life. It never lasts. The flames of emotion gutter and die, leaving her bereft and searching for the spark of life that will allow her to feel. This frantic search for new experiences has, however, driven K’tana to excel in many different ventures and circumstances, as she fearlessly runs into situations that her far more experienced peers would never willingly approach.

Life has given K’tana the short end of the stick more than once and she relishes in every opportunity to repay the favor. Death is the least thing her enemies should fear, as the Savant is utterly fearless and beyond restraint in battle. She will do anything necessary to kill her opponents, simultaneously maximizing her own efficiency and the agony she extracts. The Twi’lek never hesitates to use every ability and opportunity at her command, combining dramatic feints and flourishes, impressive athletics, and the occasional burst of raw Force Lightning. K’tana is most at peace while in combat, fighting to take someone else’s life in as painful a manner as possible.

K’tana grew up as a dancer and an entertainer and has adapted those techniques of fluid motion into a fighting style that is almost as artful as it is deadly. At least until the claws come out. A fundamentally predatory combatant, K’tana fights like a shark, always on the move, weaving and leaping gracefully through attacks. When she must attack, she strikes in a series of whirling blows, then uses her proficiency with the Force to sink beneath their perception and attack again from an unexpected angle. She prefers to harry powerful foes with crippling and hindering blows, hoping to wear them down until they are no longer capable of defeating her in a fair fight - not that she would ever engage in one. This aggressive style, while raw and effective, can fall short against an adept technical combatant that can match her agility