Chapter 11.

"I'm sure it was supposed to be different," I said later. The four of us were sitting around the oven, where a few embers were slowly dying. We'd run out of food again, but it was fine, because civilization was once again safe for us. We were going to start walking back soon. "I thought Vader and the Emperor were supposed to die in the end. I'm almost sure."

Onduin furled his brows, staring at the fading embers. They cast a little orange glow on him. "I wonder if we changed something," he finally said. "I wonder if Dadaro's... prophecies had something to do with this. About how you change creation or something?" Dadaro was sitting right across from me, which is probably why Onduin called them prophecies instead of babbling.

"That's it!" Vern suddenly said, almost shouting. He was sitting next to me. "Andrea, give me your datapad," he said. I handed it to him, a little confused, but hopeful that an answer had finally been found. He started reading off my entry describing Dadaro's ravings from when we first found him.

"The chosen one holds pride in one hand and hatred in the other," Vern dictated. "When he flips his hands over, both will fall out, and his hands will rest on the reins of the Republic for a short time. When he drops them, you should seek him out." Vern looked back up at us. "Vader must be the chosen one," he said. I suddenly understood where he was going before he even finished talking. "When it says his hands will rest on the reins of the Republic, that means he becomes Emperor. Then he drops the reins." He threw his hands in the air. The rest was obvious.

I reached over and took my datapad back, reading through the rest of the prophecies. Suddenly, almost everything relating to the chosen one made sense. I think my jaw was open. Dadaro was grinning, knowing his sanity was confirmed. Onduin had a facial expression like a goldfish. Vern was smiling excitedly, having solved the puzzle.

"So... I'm supposed to 'seek him out'?" I said, after a stretch of silent gawking.

Dadaro nodded.

"And he's supposed to be my... master or something?"

"Yes."

"How does that work?" I was very apprehensive. Confirming a prophecy was one thing. Willfully "seeking out" Darth Vader, of all people, was something else.

"I'm not sure," Dadaro said. "But, if I had to guess, I think it means he's supposed to train you as a Jedi. Since he is one of the few left, and he is a Jedi himself."

"Why?"

Dadaro shrugged. "I never get to hear the reasons behind these things until they're already over. All I know is, he's supposed to be your master, and Onduin needs to protect him from something. Come to think of it, if they're calling Jedi back to Coruscant, the Jedi that show up might decide to execute him. That might be why you need to go guard him," he said, looking at Onduin.

"Why go to all this trouble?" Onduin said. "Why should I be bothered if they do execute him?" To be honest, I'd been thinking something similar. It's not like he didn't deserve it.

"I'm not sure," Dadaro said. "I think it's because the only things that will heal the rift are compassion and humility, and protecting him would be an act of both."

"What rift, Dadaro?" Onduin said, sounding impatient.

"Between pride and anger. I'm not sure what that means yet, either. Maybe we'll only find out when we do what we're meant to do here. Healing the rift is very important. That's all I know."

We decided to leave our camp exactly as it was, makeshift oven and all, in case some other traveler decided to stay in the cave. I mulled over our last conversation as we broke down the parts of the camp we were going to take with us-- bedrolls, lamps, etc. I felt a little tingle of fear trickle through me when I thought about the prophecies that hadn't been fulfilled yet. I think I was a little angry, too. I kept thinking that none of it made sense, and doing what Dadaro said would be absurd. I was not going to willfully put myself within a hundred miles of Vader. I didn't bother trying to see another side to the situation-- as far as I was concerned, there was none.

When we hiked back to town, we got a lot of funny looks. People in Mackereyne would gawk, and sometimes they'd point at Dadaro and start muttering to each other. They recognized him, and they knew he was not supposed to be civilized. We found an inn where we could rest for awhile, get cleaned up and fed, and figure out what to do next. It was the first real shower I'd had in months, and the first time I washed my hair it turned the water brown. I had to wash it three times before the grease was out. I bought some new clothes, too-- a basic flannel shirt and some pants. It felt like the best day of my life. When we were all cleaned up, I was surprised at how different we all looked. Vern and Dadaro's skin were both several shades lighter than I'd thought, as was mine. When I looked in a mirror, it was shocking. I just didn't look like the same person-- I was a lot thinner and more haggard, and my face was all red and tanned from the cold and the wind. It was a little funny to see Dadaro sitting in a civilized restaurant, though, and the waiter just about fell over when he saw us walk in. It was like something out of Tarzan.

We set to discussing where to go, now that we could travel again. Outside the restaurant there was about an inch of powdery snow on the ground, a rarity on Dantooine, and the wind sent it flying like sand and whirling in eddies along the ground. Every now and then the wind would gust and rattle the shingles and windows, and I could hear the whole building creaking. It felt a little like Christmas.

"We should go to Coruscant," Dadaro said.

"No," I growled, shaking my head.

"In this case... I'm hesitant to put any of us near Vader, but the Order won't rebuild itself. I think Dadaro's right," Onduin said. "However, I can't speak for whether Andrea in particular should have anything to do with Vader."

"I'm not going anywhere near him," I said.

"But you need to," Dadaro said. "If Onduin doesn't watch Anakin's back, then the rift might not heal for millenia. Andrea, you're a necessary piece of this, too. A lot of what happens in the near future revolves around what you do next. If you don't fulfill your purpose, a lot of people are going to have to work very hard to fill the hole you leave."

I had a real dilemma. It had been my habit to more or less ignore Dadaro when he went on tangents like this, but I knew I couldn't do that anymore. I still didn't want to listen. I'd thought, originally, that I'd be going back to Kovnyett after we found Dadaro. While I'd waited out the months in the mansion ruins, the idea had become the center of my future, and I'd counted on having it still be there for me when the ordeal of sitting out a frigid Dantooine autumn was over. It was now clear that this wasn't going to happen. Onduin and Dadaro were going to Coruscant one way or another, so even if Onduin did decide to stop at Kovnyett to pick up his belongings there, he wouldn't be sticking around. I didn't like the idea of going back and living on Kovnyett by myself-- I'd grown so attached to our tight-knit group in the past few months, that the idea of leaving it seemed out of the question. I would go where they went. I wondered what Vern's plans were. I thought he probably wasn't as attached to Onduin and Dadaro as I was, so maybe he was planning to go his own way.

"What are you planning to do?" I asked him.

He bit his lip before answering. "I have no plan."

"Well, Andrea," Onduin said, "I imagine I'll be returning briefly to Kovnyett to pick up my things for a move to Coruscant. If you like, you could follow us that far, and stay on Kovnyett."

Dadaro shook his head with a look of disapproval.

"I'm not sure what I want to do," I said finally. I wasn't going to have my cake and eat it too. Either I went to Coruscant, or I said goodbye to the three people who were more or less my family now. I realized I was scowling so much the muscles in my face were aching. I felt like fate had thrown me in its chariot and was racing towards some all-consuming destination, never stopping to ask if I wanted to go there. My life at home had never been like that, and I'd been told for years as I grew up that the world was my oyster, and that all the choices in my life were mine to make. Here it seemed like destiny was a much more tangible thing, a force with real power to drag someone wherever it wanted them to be. Maybe I sound very cliché writing this, and maybe I am. But it's the best way I can think of to explain the feeling of being there.

In the end, there wasn't much of a choice. I would follow Onduin and Dadaro to Coruscant, and I would try to stay away from Vader, if I could. I felt trapped. I got a little bitter over it, and stayed that way for a couple days. We didn't have the funds to get all four of us to Kovnyett and then to Coruscant, so Onduin left on his own for about two standard weeks to retrieve his belongings, put his old house up for sale, and claim some outstanding payments someone owed him that would hopefully let him buy a small spacecraft for our private use. Vern and I each pitched in a few credits towards that aim. Owning a private spacecraft had suddenly become a lot more practical than flying commercial, because Dadaro had no money to buy tickets with, and no one wanted to spend another month on Dantooine working for travel money. To make matters worse, the average spaceport, from what we heard, had turned into something like a massive food grinder into which people dumped themselves. Everything was in total chaos.

Almost the minute Onduin left, the amount of structural support he'd given our group became apparent by its absence. The bizarre tension I'd noticed months earlier between Vern and Dadaro started mushrooming. If Dadaro was nearby, Vern was like my shadow. Then, the second Dadaro was out of sight, Vern's shoulders relaxed visibly, and he'd let me walk more than six feet away from him. I didn't say anything at first, because I was just so baffled that I had no idea where to start. When they talked, I could make out the strain in Vern's voice. Dadaro basically acted like nothing was different. I watched this silent standoff escalate all day, until it seemed to hit a plateau. If Vern was looking at Dadaro, he was glaring at him. If Dadaro and I were in the same room, Vern was more often than not within four feet of me. I was already mad about going to Coruscant, and this was getting on my nerves too. It didn't help that there were so many moments in recent memory where Vern had been the cause of some irritation-- mostly by refusing to go back to civilization. I found myself snapping at Vern more often than I wanted to, and even at Dadaro sometimes. After about three standard days, I was fed up with it. In the light of a Dantooine dawn, as we passed each other in a hallway, I decided it was time to find out just what the heck was going on.

"Vern?" I said. It came out as a bit of a growl. He stopped walking and looked at me.

"What is going on? I mean... do you have some problem with Dadaro that I don't know about? It's like, every time we're all in the same room, you're always three feet away from me. And then you back off when he leaves. I just don't get it."

"What are you talking about?" He said, looking at me like I was nuts. There was a little strain in his voice.

"Did you not just hear me? Every time all three of us are in the same room, you can't stay more than four feet away from me. Why are you doing that?"

Suddenly, the look on his face was a look I'd seen on the faces of teenage boys more times than I can count: a little wide-eyed, with a slight tweak in the lip. It's very difficult to describe, but it was a universal signal that I'd learned, after a lot of practice, to identify. "I'm not doing anything," he said. I was suddenly a little madder than before.

"You're a terrible liar. Do not lie to me. What the hell is going on?"

The "I'm lying" look suddenly left his face, replaced by something else. I thought he looked more sincere, but I couldn't figure out what it was. It was a couple seconds before he answered. "I don't know," he said, suddenly shifting his gaze from me to the wall behind me. "I worry."

I stood in baffled silence for a few seconds.

"Okay," he amended, "I'm paranoid." He shrugged.

I stood in baffled silence for a few more seconds.

"Look, he's a madman. I worry when he's around you."

I wasn't sure how I should respond to that, so I decided to tackle the easier statement to argue.

"He's not a madman. He's just weird. He picks up on things for some reason."

"His mind doesn't work like a normal human's. I can't read him at all, I can never tell what he's doing." He bit his lip, starting to look frustrated. "Look, if you keep a pet lion in the house, eventually something bad will happen."

"So... you think one day Dadaro is just going to snap?" I said in disbelief. "Like, he'll just wake up one morning, and go on a murderous rampage or something? Seriously?"

He sighed. "No... I don't know. I don't know, and..." He trailed off for awhile, like he had to force the next few words out of his mouth. "It scares me. I can't read him at all, I can't tell what he might do."

"Can't you just take people at face value? Is there some problem with that? That's how most of us mortals have to live, you know. We actually put some trust in people."

"How am I supposed to trust someone who is that unpredictable?"

"Try common sense. When was the last time he went on a murderous rampage?"

He threw his hands in the air. "Just because he hasn't done anything yet, that doesn't mean he won't do anything in the future."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. What, am I supposed to read his mind? Even if I could, there wouldn't be any sense in it."

"So... you're being paranoid because of some bizarre, baseless fear that Dadaro is going to just snap one day?"

"Yes! Fine! I'm paranoid. I said it before, didn't I?"

I let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, just back off, alright? If you want to be paranoid about Dadaro, go do it by yourself. I don't need it."

There was a long silence. Vern's gaze dropped almost to the floor. Once again, an argument had ended with the two of us fuming at each other. We sort of turned and walked away from each other awkwardly after awhile, not really saying anything.

The leftover tension continued through the rest of the day. I didn't talk to him unless I needed to, and vice versa. He avoided eye contact most of the time, as did I. But, when the three of us sat down for dinner, Vern put himself across the table from me, letting Dadaro sit next to me. He seemed to make a point of keeping his distance from me after that, though I still saw him shoot a wary glance at Dadaro now and then. Vern spent most of the day scowling. I was a little surprised I'd actually gotten him to listen to me, but I was grateful too. It usually took more than one argument to make him budge an inch. Maybe he really didn't know why he acted the way he did, and that's why he was less pig-headed about it than usual. The whole interchange was so confusing I hardly even bothered trying to explain it to myself.

Things settled down after a couple days. Vern had stopped giving Dadaro funny looks, and had shifted to willfully ignoring him, as far as I could see. Unless Dadaro said something directly to him, he acted like Dadaro wasn't there. Vern always seemed uneasy, and if he laughed it sounded nervous and a little forced. Dadaro continued to ignore the unfolding drama. I wondered how Vern had managed to spend so many days hunting for hours with Dadaro without getting in some kind of fight. Maybe Dadaro was just so oblivious to human tension that it was almost impossible to get him in a fight. He wouldn't have understood that he was supposed to get angry at these things.

It was about two standard days before Onduin got back that something occurred to me. The tension from my argument with Vern had vanished, replaced by a fizzing sense of confusion that appeared whenever I looked at him. Going over the conflict in my head, I remembered that Vern had been very vague and confused. It wasn't like him. Usually, if he had something to say, he was straightforward and honest to a fault. I got fed up with him so many times for being told straight up that I was being an idiot, especially since he was often right. What made me really mad, was that he'd criticize me for some personality fault, I'd deny it, and then he'd give some brutally simple, elegant explanation of why he was right. If I criticized him for a personality fault, he wouldn't bother denying it; he'd just try to defend it. If I could prove that his fault was a fault and not a blessing, however, he'd turn around and try to correct himself. But this time, he'd tried to deny he was doing something. More importantly, he'd acted like he wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be denying. Clearly, there was more to his odd behavior than I'd been told. I wasn't about to ask him, though.

When Onduin got back, he had a bright yellow speeder with three engines. It was shiny, and a lot bigger than the green one. It also had a trunk and a covered cabin, so all four of us could stay out of the snowstorm while we drove back. The upholstery was black leather, torn in a couple places, but pretty comfortable. Dadaro was now wearing fresh clothes and a heavy jacket, like the rest of us, apart from Onduin. Outside the powdered snow from the previous day had turned into a layer of continuous ice almost thick enough to walk on, and whatever loose snow remained was blasted across this surface by the wind almost continuously. I felt the speeder fishtail a little as Onduin started driving, and I could hear the wind outside gusting constantly. Onduin sat in the front bench, as before, while the rest of us sat in the back. I sat between Vern and Dadaro. Almost the minute he started driving, Onduin glanced back at us over his shoulder with raised brows.

"So, what happened?" he asked, continuing to drive.

"What do you mean?" I said.

"I just have a very strong feeling that some altercation occurred while I was gone." It was hard to tell from behind, but it looked like he was smirking.

I didn't know where I'd even begin explaining it to him, so I decided to blow it off. "It was nothing," I said. I heard Vern sigh, probably in relief.

"Suit yourself," Onduin said. He was definitely smiling. I wondered how much he could sense. Maybe I would ask him later if he knew what was going on. He'd been good at picking up on Vern's behavior before.

As we drove towards the spaceport, the snow vanished, and the terrain alternated from the grassy mesas and ravines to huge flat spaces marred only by the occasional stream bed or a few trees. The temperature outside began dropping as the day went by, and towards the last couple hours of the drive we hit a patch of land where a snowfall had left drifts piled three feet high against the sides of buildings. Needless to say, we didn't get a lot of time to stretch our legs outside. When we reached the spaceport, it was easy to see why it was built like a cave, and set into one of the mesas: loose, powdery snow flowed from the roof down over the entrance, sometimes caught in brief eddies, as the wind carried it across the building. The spaceport had been streamlined so the wind would ride smoothly over its roof. It was like watching an epic sandstorm try to engulf a building that seemed very small by comparison. Onduin pulled into an open-sided garage embedded in the spaceport to return the speeder. Even under that much cover, stepping out of the speeder was like getting dropped in a bag of loose sewing needles. Overhead the snow shot across the open space between the roof and the ground like meteors by the billions, and the wind tore through my wool trench coat and several other layers immediately. Getting indoors was a huge relief.

Onduin led us to a separate section of the spaceport where private ships could be kept under lock and key while their owners were away. A covered hangar housed the assorted spacecraft, which ranged from one-person puddle jumpers the size of a Cessna plane to 200-foot space yachts. Ours looked a bit like a manta ray, and was dark blue. It had angular contours and three engines at the back, and stood on three small skis. It was about fifty feet wide and twenty feet long, with two cramped bedrooms two bunks apiece, a small lounge, and a kitchen. Each bunk had two beds. On the far right, on top of the hull sat the cockpit, with a bubble-shaped glass dome overhead and a short ladder underneath that led into the lounge. Theoretically, eight people could stay on this thing. I thought the bedrooms, at least, were tight enough with four.

Onduin and Dadaro sat up in the cockpit, which was dark and full of little blinking red lights. I stayed down in the lounge area with Vern. The ship rattled to life when Onduin turned the engines on, and gave a metallic snapping sound when it rose off the ground. Inside it was dark, with blue and green tones in the upholstery providing a little color where the tiny overhead lights failed to penetrate the shadowy interior. Once we were under way, everything was very quiet. I dug out my datapad and read news feeds for awhile, then wrote a rare journal entry. Vern slept on a nearby couch. I mulled a little over our destination, and what it held. I was still angry about going to Coruscant. It burned behind every thought that day, and I'd find myself letting out an irritated sigh at random moments. But, when it came down to it, the anger was just a cover for my fear. When I fixated on where I was going long enough, I felt the adrenaline pulsing through my chest. I tried to figure out what I would do if I ran into Vader personally for some reason. What was I supposed to do? Slowly backing away sounded like a good option, but then, he was Darth Vader. He could choke people without touching them. There was no certain defense against someone with abilities like that. I wanted to complain to Onduin, and tell him we should turn around, but I knew it wasn't my call. If I'd wanted to stay away from Coruscant that much, I reasoned, I should have stayed on Dantooine, or gone to Kovnyett with Onduin when I had the chance. Instead I'd followed like a lemming, letting the people around me make the decisions. I wondered why Vern hadn't said anything. Usually he would throw a fit if our group was headed for something dangerous. He knew who Vader was, and that he was going to be around Onduin and Dadaro at least. Why didn't he stand in the way of this?

The trip was three standard days. Onduin said our ship was unremarkable in most ways, but it had a fast hyperdrive. When we came in for the landing, all four of us packed into the tight, domed cockpit to watch. On the approach, it looked like nothing less than a perfect silver ball. Where the yellow sunlight hit it, the glare was intolerable, and the face of the planet glowed white. I couldn't see the night side at all through the glare. There were almost no clouds. As our ship approached the surface, breaking through the atmosphere, I started to see the spires of the city piercing up through the air. It was Agonis times ten. Many buildings threw massive pillars into the sky that broke clear through the atmosphere, and had bases miles in diameter. All around us, extraordinary feats of engineering put every Earth-born marvel to shame. Every building was miles high, every chasm between them was a bottomless canyon whose black depths were mapped out by the glowing streamers and lights and billboards all down their length. Spacecraft rose and settled everywhere like migrating passenger pigeons, and air speeders-- speeders designed for traveling at altitude instead of along the ground, which were also capable of maneuvering in three dimensions-- ran through the spaces between buildings in massive churning trains, like schools of tiny fish. The whole city resonated with a continuous mechanical rumble. When we landed, I could feel the vibrations immediately, pulsing up through the spire we'd settled on. Stepping out of the ship, I felt terrified. I was on a platform thousands of feet in the air. Around it, was nothing. Empty space for almost a mile all around. The platform was large enough for maybe four ships the size of ours to land, but it didn't feel very big. Coruscant was a huge, humbling place.

A long, light blue airspeeder was waiting for us. It had a black marking on the side that reminded me a little of the Japanese battle flag. A uniformed driver opened the door for us, which wasn't so much a door as a big side hatch. This time Onduin let us humans ride in front of him, although the driver still had the front seat. Dadaro rode shotgun. The bench seat in front of Onduin's was back-facing. Clearly, I realized, this was some kind of limousine. As if Coruscant wasn't intimidating enough-- I was now climbing into a flying limousine, suspended miles over the surface of an impossible city, to go to the Jedi Temple, where, if I wasn't careful, I could run into Darth Vader. My life was getting weird again, but it wasn't funny this time.

I wondered why there would be a limousine. Why wouldn't we just get a flying taxi or something? I thought about asking Onduin, but I didn't feel like asking questions right then. I was still paying a lot of attention to the scenery, too.

"We'll be dropped near the south entrance of the Temple," Onduin said, breaking my concentration. He looked over at me. "That's where the renovated apartments and dorms are. Apparently we're the first Jedi who've shown up, apart from the Skywalkers, so we'll have free run of the place. By the way, Andrea, they generally stay clear of the south wing, because all the administrative business is conducted on the west side, so if you're planning to avoid Anakin, you shouldn't have any trouble."

"I hear part of the west side was starting to collapse," Dadaro said.

"Indeed," Onduin replied. They went on talking about renovations for awhile, while endless, dark, glimmering walls and windows went by outside. We went through a long, dark tunnel. A few minutes later, the view opened up, revealing a big glassy pyramid. Its corners gleamed like they'd been chrome-plated, and a rectangular wing extended from each side. The limousine pulled up to a platform at the end of one of these, each of which was an imposing construct in its own right. Ten sliding doors lined the entrance. Onduin thanked the driver, who smiled in return, and we walked across the platform to some doors near the middle.

Inside, the south wing was very spacious. Overhead a continuous balcony at each story extended past the others beneath it, until only a small patch of ceiling was left visible. Down the middle of the floor, which was easily 500 feet wide and at least twice as long, ran four black belts side-by-side, each about ten feet wide. A big yellow arrow was painted on the ground in front of each one-- two pointed towards us, two away. Dadaro stepped onto one of the belts whose arrow pointed away from us. A motor somewhere started rumbling, and the belt began moving, taking Dadaro with it. The rest of us followed suit. I was glad we wouldn't have to walk all the way to the end of the south wing.

The Jedi Temple's interior was supported every twenty feet or so by round, smooth pillars with dark chrome finishes and forest green accents. Many had random black pits in their surfaces that sometimes went all the way through. One pillar had a cut near the base that sliced half-way through the pillar, and looked like it had been made with a welding torch. Dadaro said it was obviously lightsaber damage. Other pillars had similar marks. The floor was made of dark, reddish tiles which, although clean, were damaged and burnt through like the pillars. Even the ceiling was pockmarked. A section of railing dangled precariously from its balcony. All of us had fallen strangely silent as we rode on the conveyor belt.

"I don't understand it," Onduin said, when the ride was over. Fifty feet away, the south wing opened up into some even bigger room, where sunlight streamed in from hidden windows. We started walking towards the doors near the end of the wing, which were open. They seemed to lead to small apartments. "No battlefield is this quiet."

"Most battlefields are not strewn with the shades of Jedi," Dadaro said. "These people died in a peaceful state. That's why they don't cause a disturbance. But they're still here."

"Why?"

"They weren't buried properly."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure. But they weren't buried properly."

Onduin gave Dadaro a funny look, but gave up immediately on trying to get an explanation. He turned and looked at me and Vern when we got up to the open doors.

"Well, pick one," he said. "They're all free."

"So a Jedi once lived in every one of these?" Vern said, moving his eyes up the sets of balconies, towards the ceiling.

"Two, more often than not," Onduin said. "I lived here for awhile. Back then we were tight for space. Now... there's nothing." His gaze followed Vern's, up the rows of chrome railings to the untouchable ceiling.

I picked a room a few doors down from where the wing opened up into the main building. I would have picked a spot near Dadaro's, but the room next to his had a huge, black lightsaber gash running clear through the middle of the door, and it creeped me out. Plus, it wasn’t great for privacy. The apartments weren’t big, but they were pretty nice, in all-- everything seemed clean, although damage was evident everywhere. I had a wooden cabinet with a broken hinge. In the rooms, everything was done in warm tones and dark, earthy reds. It was a little cold in the Temple.

I set my bag down next to the bed, which was already made with a dark red bedspread, and sat down. I was tired, and I felt depressed. I liked the place, but I didn't want to be there, and sometimes it just felt creepy, like whoever had left all the burns and lightsaber damage everywhere was still wandering around in the building somewhere. Technically, he was. It wasn't a happy thought. I had a refrigerator. I decided I wanted to go grocery shopping. I needed to get out of the Temple and do something remotely normal. I walked up to Onduin's door, which he'd left open, and asked if he knew anything about getting groceries on Coruscant. He suggested I wait a little while, since all four of us needed to stock our cabinets and cold-crates, as they were called. Then we could all go out together, and hopefully we wouldn't get lost. Each building was a veritable city in its own right. It wasn't hard to get turned around.

We did go grocery shopping-- and we did end up hailing a taxi this time. Coruscant taxis apparently came in all colors, and could only be told apart from the other speeders by a red, triangular appliqué on one of the doors. The driver took us to a nearby store, which was refreshing in its lack of size. It reminded me a little of the tiny health food shops that grew up here and there at home. It was embedded in the side of a conical building. I spent awhile picking things and paying for the food, but I didn't want to leave. I felt like finding a bench somewhere, sitting down, and not moving. I decided to take a nap when I got back to the Temple.

I did that too, and I must have slept for hours. I didn't want to get up. At least I had a supply of food. Onduin and Dadaro didn't bother me the whole time-- they were probably off on Jedi business somewhere, probably talking to Vader about renovations. That thought actually made me laugh a little. I heard a knock on my door. It was already open. I stood up and went to see who it was. Vern was there.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I said back. "What's up?"

He shrugged, looking away a little. "Just thought I'd keep you company. You seemed depressed."

I sighed, nodding a little. "I don't really want to be here, you know?"

"Hmm," he grunted, biting his lip. "You could have stayed on Kovnyett."

"Don't remind me."

He nodded acknowledgement. "So... why did you decide to come here?" he asked.

"I don't know. I guess I just didn't want to get left behind."

"Would you go back now, if you could?"

"I don't know." I thought about it a little. "I don't want to go back to Kovnyett. I don't really want to be here, but I don't want to leave our group, either. It's like... everything is lose-lose, you know? There aren't any good options."

"Well," he said after awhile, looking around at the Temple. "It's a nice city, at least."

I nodded. It was a beautiful place. It was just utterly terrifying.

"Maybe things will work out," he said, leaning back against the doorframe, and staring at the opposite wall. "I mean, look at all the trouble we've gotten in already. It can't get any worse than Agonis." He grinned sardonically.

"I'm not sure," I grumbled. "I think spending three months on Dantooine is a good competitor."

"You really think it was that bad?"

"Yes. And if I remember right, it was your idea."

"You really think it was worse than Agonis?"

"At least on Agonis, if I wanted to get away from you, I could." I was holding back a smile, but it was worthless. I knew he could at least see me smirking. I could see him pursing his lips and staring off at the ceiling while he thought of a retort.

"True. But you never could get away from yourself," he finally said. "I really pity you for that."

"Why? What's so bad about me?"

"Oh, lots of things."

"Like what?" I growled, trying desperately not to grin-- and slowly failing.

"For one thing, you don't even know what you want. So, you follow other people, and then you get mad because you don't like how things turned out." He paused. "Typical female," he added, just loud enough so I could hear it.

I looked around for something to throw at him, but the room was barebones. I reached over to smack him, but he got out of the way too fast. He started backing away from me, grinning, with his hands up.

"Okay, I'm sorry!" he said, half-laughing. I stopped walking towards him for a few seconds. "You started it," he amended.

"I did not! You started it!"

He didn't say anything after that-- just smirked at me. I'd taken the bait like an offended six-year-old.

"Touché," I finally said. It wasn't worth trying to out-wit Vern. Chasing him probably wouldn't work either, because he could run faster than me. I'd have to wait until I had something to throw at him.

As the spat came to a halt, I felt a little of that day's depression returning. I was glad Vern had shown up, though. It was nice having someone to talk to, and the apartment seemed very hollow after spending months surrounded constantly by three other people. We kept talking for awhile. I decided, since I had him alone, I'd try and ask him about the argument we'd had a few days before.

"There's something I don't understand," I said, after some consideration. "I don't think I got the whole picture the other day. I mean, if you were just being paranoid, then why were you acting so confused? Why didn't you just tell me that when I asked you? Why'd you try to lie?"

His expression changed subtly, like I'd hit some kind of nerve. "I'm sorry... I don't know how to explain this." I watched him expectantly. He started pacing back and forth outside the door, fidgeting and glaring at the walls. He stopped after a few seconds. "I don't know where to start."

Why was he stalling? What was he so desperate to not tell me? "Well, why don't you say something?" I said.

He nodded, starting to look frustrated. "Okay... I get paranoid when I'm around you... I don't know why... it's like I'm afraid something bad will happen if I get too far away from you. Look, you've been like a sister to me." He smiled briefly. "Look how much we fight. But really, I like being around you... I just get really... bitter when Dadaro's around you. Maybe I'm jealous or something." He shrugged.

"Are... you trying to say you like me?" I asked.

"I don't know! It's not like that. Look... I love you, but like a sister, not a... a girlfriend. But it's more than that... I don't know how to explain. Like, when Dadaro's around you, I... I can't stand it. I get jealous, like I had some kind of claim on you, but then that's not what it is... Look... I don't understand what this is." He sighed, shrugged, and cast his gaze on a distant part of the floor. "I'm really sorry. I wouldn't have lied, but I didn't know what to tell you."

"Okay," I said after awhile. I really didn't have anything else to say. Vern had tried to explain what was going on, and it still didn't make sense. There was a long silence before either of us said anything again. I wondered if he was still hiding something from me. Even so, I didn't feel like questioning him anymore. We talked for a few more minutes afterwards, but all the energy was gone from the conversation. I was grateful to get my mind off my surroundings, though.