Chapter 8.

The trip from Asmarena 2 to Dantooine was three days long. Not much worth mentioning happened then. The three of us would often get dinner together upstairs, and I was usually pressured into talking about modern America, either by Onduin or, more commonly, Vern. Vern wanted to know about technology, and I knew almost nothing about technology, so between the two of them haggling me for information I started getting tired of answering questions about Mercedes cars and cellphones. Their curiosity about my world tapered off after awhile, though, and I got some much-needed rest as I let them talk to each other about the Jedi order, or World War I, or whatever happened to be in vogue. Everyone, at least, was glad to be off Asmarena.

We took our first steps off the shuttle into the Dantooine spaceport. It was a small spaceport, with whitewashed walls and ceilings and gray carpet. In overall shape it was like the mouth of a cave, but big windows let plenty of light in. Outside I could see green plains, rolling hills, and flat-bottomed ravines from there to the horizon. Trees were sporadic, and always looked old and gnarled. The occasional speeder went past the spaceport's windows, whizzing by on some invisible road.

"We'll be needing one of those," Onduin said, as a ruddy red one went by. He found a place where we could rent a speeder, and got hold of a beat-up green one with two jet engines sticking out the back and a hood like an old Corvette. There was enough luggage with us that we had to fill up the back seat with it, since there wasn't a trunk-- but there was a rumble seat, so Vern and I rode there, while Onduin occupied the entire front bench and drove the thing. It was kind of a pleasant ride, like riding in a convertible on a nice day, only more so. Dantooine didn't have many people on it-- just the occasional estate house and sporadic villages-- and it had a white sun, not too bright, that made it feel a bit like how spring was on Earth. It was a long ride, too. Onduin would stop every now and then so everyone could move a little. It was probably almost seven hours long, total. Dantooine has long days, though, so the sun had barely moved in that time. But, at last, we reached the town of Mackereyne, where Onduin was going to ask around to see if anyone knew what had happened to Dadaro.

We ended up in a small cafe, which served a lot of roasted root vegetables and fried meat. It was arranged in a giant ring, much like a single continuous bar. The waiter came by with some water, and Onduin asked if he knew anything about Dadaro. He described what he looked like, and the pudgy waiter looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling.

"I know the one you mean," he said, in a gruff voice. "He's got the scraggly dark hair, runs around the ruins like an animal? Heh, well, it's scraggly now. At least he still wears clothes-- or remnants of clothes. Boy, and you want to go find this man?"

"Yes," Onduin said. "I knew him-- about twenty years ago."

The waiter developed a cynical grin. "Well, you won't know 'im anymore. The boy's in his forties now, I'm guessing, but he lives like an animal. I even hear people say they seen him talking to animals sometimes, like they can talk back. Some people even think they listen. Well, he hasn't tried biting anyone yet. Though I heard someone say they run into him one day, and he started saying all manner of nonsense. The man's got no mind left. I think those ruins done something to 'im. That's where you'll find him-- either in the ruins, or in the cave across from 'em. You know where that is?"

Onduin nodded. "I know where to find the cavern."

The waiter shrugged, and went back to work. "Well," Onduin said after awhile. "That doesn't bode well."

"Looks like someone's going to have to ask the Wizard for a brain," Vern said. That time, I almost laughed out loud. This expedition got a little weirder every day.

We got some sleep at a cheap motel in Mackereyne, and when I woke up it was barely mid-afternoon on Dantooine. I wasn't sure how long exactly the days were here, but it reminded me of Agonis a little. We didn't have to spend any more time cramped in the speeder, at least-- the enclave ruins were only two miles away, and easily accessible on foot. We walked there, across the green hills and gulleys, until we reached a hill overlooking a mass of overgrown, half-excavated wreckage the size of a football field. About half a mile out, a long, low cliff ran around the perimeter of the ruins.

"Well, there's the old enclave," Onduin said, "and somewhere under that overhang"-- he pointed towards the cliff face-- "is the cave Dadaro's been seen in. I know he was investigating it for awhile. I just hope whatever's gotten into his head hasn't turned him cannibalistic or something."

We trudged down to the ruins, where random blocks of ancient stone mingled with some kind of stainless sheet metal and square pits where excavations had been underway. One area was collapsed, likely where excavations had been going on in the lower levels of the ruins, and the struts holding up the tunnels gave out. Everything had plenty of tall grass on it, which slowed walking down a lot. It swished past my legs every time I took a step, and the rhythmic sound of moving grass took over as the dominant noise in the absence of speech. For two hours we pored over the ruins, trying not to step on anything that might cave in, but Dadaro wasn't there. Then we spent half an hour walking along the overhang where the cave was supposed to be. Finally, Onduin found it-- half-buried under chest-high grass and two bushes. But there it was, and sure enough, there was a narrow trail of flattened grass leading to it. The entrance looked extremely unstable. Onduin told me and Vern to stay put while he went looking through the caverns. I was happy to stay out of the cave, and Vern seemed to feel the same. It felt like I waited outside for ages.

After about twenty minutes, I heard some scuffling, and muttered voices, coming towards the entrance. I leaned my head through the mouth to the cave, trying to listen a little closer to what was going on. Vern followed suit. I couldn't make anything out, though, Until Onduin's sinuous shape appeared, dragging along a rather less sinuous and much darker, roughly human shape. He came out of the cave tail-first, pulling along someone who could've passed for Robinson Crusoe, but without the beard. That surprised me a little, because this person looked too clean-shaven to be completely feral. He certainly had a feral look in his eyes, though, which were bright forest green rimmed with a weird blue. He had oily black hair, cut more neatly than it should've been for someone who'd spent 20 years as a madman in the wilderness, but his skin was tanned dark, and his clothing consisted of the worn and faded remnants of a button-up shirt and a pair of loose pants that had probably reached his ankles at one point. Onduin dumped him on the ground outside the cave, looking at the man disapprovingly.

"Is that him?" Vern asked.

Onduin nodded. "That's him." He sighed. "Dadaro? Dadaro! Do you remember me at all?"

Dadaro had his knees up in his chest and was rocking back and forth, staring up at Onduin with a weird, wide-eyed look. Then he looked down at his knees for awhile. His gaze wandered to me from there, and then to Vern. Suddenly, Dadaro shot up onto his feet, and his face went completely white.

"You!" he shouted, jabbing a forefinger at Vern. "You, you, you... I know you. You're the double-crosser!" Then his face was eaten up by an insane grin, and he walked over to Vern, and started tapping him on the left shoulder, saying "double-crosser, double crosser" over and over in a sing-song voice. Suddenly Vern's expression changed to shock. He glanced over at me, then back at Dadaro.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "How do you know about that?"

Dadaro stopped saying "double-crosser," and started cackling maniacally.

"About what?" I growled, suddenly suspicious.

Vern gestured at his left shoulder in a circular motion. "He means the swastika," he said.

That made sense. And then I wanted to ask Dadaro the same question Vern did, because he couldn't possibly have seen Vern in uniform.

Dadaro stopped laughing suddenly, looking very serious. He looked over at me, taking a few steps in my direction.

"You," he said, pointing a shaky finger at me. "I know, I know you too, you. All your doing, all this... no, no, no no not your doing, just you... Change. You change things, that's what you do. You change, you're change, that's why you, why he brought you here. You're his chosen one..." He cackled some more. "Chosen one of the chosen one! Chosen one... " With that, he collapsed into a sitting position on the ground, and gazed at Onduin expressionlessly.

Dadaro then stood up straight, looking Onduin in the eyes. There was a weird pause, then he looked straight at me again. "You have to hear," he said, starting to quiver. "Hear, hear, or you're deaf, and you know nothing, you're dead, can't do anything. You have to go to the chosen one. He's your master; he brought you here. Your change can do good, or nothing. You can't do anything unless he teaches you, it must be the chosen one. But you can't find him without the double-crosser." He glanced over at Vern. "The double-crosser teaches you to find the light buried in the black. That's why you need him. But that's how you help him." Dadaro started hyperventilating between panted words for no apparent reason. "He needed you, so he can be saved now." Suddenly he glared wide-eyed at Onduin. "Silence! You know not what you're about to speak!"

"What do I change?" I asked cautiously. Dadaro looked back at me, looking very calm now, but still hyperventilating.

"Creation. You change this half of creation. You don't change the other half." With that, he collapsed on the ground in a heap, letting out a sigh as his breathing returned to normal. He reminded me a lot of Renfield from the old Dracula with Bella Lugosi.

Vern looked shocked, and Onduin just looked confused and worried. Onduin stood over Dadaro's immobile but softly breathing form for a few seconds, like he wasn't sure whether it would be a good idea to touch him or not. There was little need, because not long after Dadaro started stirring again, and when he sat up a lot of the madness had dissipated from his expression. He looked around at us very calmly.

"Onduin," he finally said.

"Yes," Onduin replied.

"You barely made it. Another two weeks, and it would be too late. It'd be over. But now, the war can end forever."

"I don't understand anything you've said, Dadaro."

"Neither do I," Dadaro replied, pulling at some grass beside him. "But I know things. There's a difference between knowledge and understanding."

"Indeed," Onduin said.

"You're Andrea Campton," Dadaro suddenly said, looking at me.

"Yes. How...?" He started shaking his head before I finished my question. "There doesn't have to be a how. Only a truth. Werner Schultze... you're good with truth," he said, looking briefly at Vern. "But this is why I stopped going into town. I have to repeat what I hear, and that wouldn't go over well with the townsfolk. The kath hounds understand me better. They're almost as smart as people, you know. They love me like their own."

"Kath hounds?" Onduin repeated in disbelief.

Dadaro nodded. "You don't have to believe me. It's already true; it doesn't need you to make it true. But I've said all you need to know. My work is done. I can live freely now. And you three can rest for awhile, because the deed's been done. The good has to win now. When the chosen one releases the last of his power and submits to the will of the Order, Onduin, you have to make sure he lives. If he dies, the rift will open even wider."

"What rift?" Onduin said. "And which chosen one are you talking about?"

"The chosen one," Dadaro answered. "And the rift is between pride and anger. Humility and kindness will heal both sides and destroy the rift, but it won't come if the chosen one dies... or if Andrea never finds him. The chosen one brings humility, Andrea brings kindness, and Onduin, you must carry the truth with you, because no one else will listen to me, or understand. The chosen one holds pride in one hand and hatred in the other. 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. Andrea, that's why you're here." Then Dadaro went quiet for a long time, and turned to pulling at the grass around him.

Everyone was completely baffled. Even Dadaro didn't seem to understand what he was saying, or where his crazy ideas came from. We'd each ask him what the things he said meant, and he'd just repeat them, like a parrot. When asked where he got these things, he'd say they sprang into his mind from the light, but he didn't know what it was called, only that it wanted him to repeat what he heard.

"Do you mean the Force?" Onduin asked.

"No," Dadaro said sternly. "The Force is nothing. The light sustains all."

"You mean God?" Vern said.

Dadaro looked at him quietly for a few seconds, quizzically, almost. "That's a good word," he finally said. "A good way of putting it."

I was surprised. I would have thought Vern would be the last one to figure any of this out, but perhaps Dadaro had been right when he said Vern was good with truth.

"You understood that?" Onduin said, looking at Vern with surprise.

"I think so," Vern replied.

"But you can't make anything out of the rest."

Vern shook his head slowly.

"I suppose we're just going to have to take this one bite at a time," Onduin said.

We all stood there, by the entrance of the cave, for the better part of half an hour, trying to extract some kind of explanation out of Dadaro, but it was useless. The subject then moved to what we were going to do now that we'd found him. Onduin thought it was imperative that we record everything Dadaro had said, so I typed it into my datapad, while Dadaro recited his psychedelic prophecies again. I was grateful he at least seemed to remember the things he'd said. We decided it would be impractical to try and bring Dadaro back into society while he was in this state, so we set up a sort of campsite next to the ruins, using some old steel bars left over from the excavations as struts to hold up a tarp. That served as shelter from the sun, or rain, if that came. Onduin left me and Vern to guard Dadaro so he wouldn't run back to his cave, while Onduin went back to Mackereyne to get some provisions. Dadaro made no attempt to leave. He rarely said anything, but he seemed content to help set up the shelter. When that was done, he sat near it very quietly, facing out to the plains, watching the clouds go by. He didn't try to talk to us at all.

Onduin asked how Dadaro had been doing when he returned, and I told him how things had been going. Onduin had brought a few days' worth of food and water, plus some other supplies with him, and now he set these under the tarp. Onduin, Vern and I then set to discussing our next move, while Dadaro continued looking out at the plains. Sometimes he would turn to glance at one of us while we talked, but it was an animal gesture, like the way a dog glances up at you if you start talking.

"If Dadaro gets his mind back, then I think we should retreat to Kovnyett again, and figure out what to do from there," Onduin said.

Vern shook his head. "I wouldn't move unless we have to. It's too big a risk, as long as security is this tight."

"I understand it's a risk, but staying put is a risk too," Onduin replied. "Besides, we can't camp out here forever. We don't have infinite resources, and I can't keep running into town and buying food, or paying for that speeder we rented. One way or another, something has to go. Either we move, or we starve."

"And what if he doesn't recover? We can't take him on the shuttle, it would be ridiculous. It's miracle enough he still remembers how to speak."

"Then what would you have us do? There are only so many options."

"We have to wait."

"For how long?"

"Until someone comes up with a better idea."

Onduin sighed. "Fair enough. Andrea? Don't suppose you have a better idea?"

I shook my head.

Dadaro shifted to look over at us, and then surprised everyone by speaking. "You don't have to worry," he said. "If you give freely of what you have, then you will receive freely in return. We are all provided for."

Onduin stared at Dadaro with furled brows for longer than usual. So did Vern.

"Blast it, Dadaro, what are you talking about?" Onduin said under his breath.

"Dadaro," Vern said firmly. "Did you read that, or did it come to you?"

"It came," Dadaro replied. "I didn't read it anywhere."

"He's pulling quotes straight from the Bible," Vern said quietly. "I don't understand how."

I had to think about that comment for a few seconds, but Vern had a point: Christianity was unheard of here. I wasn't sure what to think of Dadaro then. Onduin's next question just reinforced the weirdness.

"The what?"

"The Bible," Vern repeated. "It's a book... it's a part of Christianity. A religion," he explained, in answer to Onduin's quizzical expression.

"And you think he's somehow pulling quotes from a book he's never seen?" Onduin said. Vern shrugged. Onduin didn't look disbelieving, just baffled. "I have no explanation," he finally said.

There was a long and awkward silence before the conversation was reignited, and drifted back towards what to do now that we'd found Dadaro. No one's positions had changed, and Onduin and Vern would butt heads on the subject about once every half hour without making any progress towards a solution. Dadaro continued to sit quietly, either watching us or watching the world, but when it was time for lunch he seemed happy to help with setting up the gas stove and cooking. I spent a lot of time reading news feeds on my datapad, for lack of anything better to do. I took solace in reading idiotic media blasts about alien celebrity drama and what beneficent things the beneficent Empire was up to now. It was like an oasis of normalcy in the midst of an ex-Nazi, a Jedi knight, and a prophetic madman.

The group was locked in indecision for several standard days-- only about one day/night cycle on Dantooine. At night, which seemed to go on endlessly, Onduin hung an electric light from one of the struts holding up the tarp, and from outside it made the construct look a bit like a giant, glowing spider web. Around twilight a hive of some kind of insects around the ruins came to life, and whirling swarms of little black specks could be seen rising in columns ten or twenty feet high over the 4,000-year-old wreck. Growling and hooting noises echoed off the ravine walls from some distant field. Onduin thought it was kath hounds raising the racket.

Dadaro got a little more sociable as the days went by. He was still dead quiet most of the time, but he started making eye contact more often. He always had an air of happiness about him. His brain might not have been working right, but his heart seemed to be doing fine-- he always seemed willing to offer help where needed, if not conversation. He stopped saying particularly strange things for awhile, and at first Onduin was convinced that Dadaro would stage a decent recovery in time, and we could then leave Dantooine safely. Vern just shook his head and predicted that Dadaro was as sane as he ever would be, and even if he could look normal for awhile, the seed of whatever was affecting him now would bloom again in time. I had the feeling Vern was right this time. When Dadaro's apparent recovery began grinding to a standstill, Onduin started agreeing with Vern too. Still, none of us were sure what to think of Dadaro, because none of us were sure whether his prophecies were worth listening to, madman or no. Onduin said his intuitive feeling was that they were important somehow.

At about mid-morning on Dantooine, a decision was reached. Since the locals already knew who Dadaro was, his behavior wouldn't draw any more attention than it already did, so Onduin could lease a house in town and keep him contained there. The rest of us could stay there too, for awhile. That way Onduin could at least get the rented speeder off his hands. If Dadaro adapted well to civilization, then we could start making plans to return to Kovnyett. If not, then we could try to find work in Mackareyne, as we were getting tight on cash. Onduin didn't like the idea of staying off Kovnyett for too long, since his house was more or less unattended there. Vern, meanwhile, wanted to avoid anything involving contact with the Empire-- including space travel. When asked for an opinion, Dadaro was happy to go along with whatever happened, like a faithful dog. I thought the plan was alright, but Vern didn't have a tracking chip on him anymore, and it occurred to me that sooner or later the Empire was going to figure that out, and they were going to track him down the old-fashioned way-- paperwork. When they found out where he was, we could all be in serious trouble. When I brought that to Onduin's attention, Vern overheard, and from that point on refused to return to civilization for anything other than guns and ammunition until the Empire collapsed. Onduin finally conceded that going back to Kovnyett would be foolhardy at the moment, and that even going back in town might be risky. That left us with a few options, all of which were unappetizing:

a. We could take our chances in town, as originally planned;

b. We could make a dash for Kovnyett, and hope nobody caught up with us; or

c. We could stay in the wilderness indefinitely, and hope we found enough food and clean water, since we didn't have enough money to keep buying food and supplies and still have enough left to get tickets home.

After some consideration and a vote, we ended up, in rough terms, with option c. The vote would have been in favor of a. 2-to-1 (with Vern voting for c.); but Dadaro, to our near shock, decided to cast a vote, incidentally in Vern's favor. Onduin and I tried arguing with Vern and Dadaro, but neither would budge. We thought the idea of staying out there was ridiculous, but Vern had enough stubbornness for three people. I had a penny with me-- one of my last relics from home. I flipped it, and it landed in Vern and Dadaro's favor. With a look of exasperation, Onduin agreed to go back to Mackereyne so he could return the speeder to the spaceport-- he got a taxi back to town-- and pick up some other supplies before returning. I stayed back to keep an eye on Dadaro and Vern while Onduin was away. I picked up some pebbles around the tarp and started throwing them in random directions, watching them bounce and vanish into the grass twenty feet away. I felt a little like throwing a small one at Vern's head, but it wouldn't have changed the situation. Vern started asking Dadaro about the landscape and the local wildlife, and now for the first time Dadaro was able to sustain a conversation. Dadaro reeled off names and descriptions of various edible plants, and discussed ways of hunting the animals here. This went on intermittently for hours. The dirt around the ruins was transformed into a series of rough maps as Dadaro explained where things were. It didn't end with natural history-- Dadaro started talking about the people who'd lived in these places, too. The years he'd spent hiding out by the ruins hadn't been completely wasted. He seemed to know almost everything about the area.

Dadaro spent a lot of time talking about a Jedi named Revan who had passed through the Jedi enclave at about the time of its destruction. Revan was reformed, by unknown means, from a Sith into a Jedi knight, and from there almost single-handedly obliterated the Sith empire that had arisen at the time. No one knew much more about Revan than that-- even this person's gender was unknown-- but Dadaro said he'd found the remains of a 4,000-year-old blaster in the cave, and he was almost certain Revan had touched it, or come near it, at least. He thought Revan had been a woman, based on what he sensed from the blaster, but he couldn't be sure. Vern didn't look entirely convinced about all this, but apparently it was interesting enough to hold his attention for the better part of an hour.

"I think I saw that blaster," I said. "Onduin had it on a shelf. He talked about it a little."

"That's probably the one," Dadaro replied. "Did you touch it?"

"No." I wouldn't dare.

"If you get the chance again, try touching it. You'll get the strangest feeling, like fear, and you might see a person's face. I saw a woman's face one time, very clearly. I think she was Revan. There was so much strength about her."

"So you see ghosts?" Vern said.

"No-- well, I have, but these aren't ghosts. Just imprints people have left. Have you ever been in a place where you hear someone walking around, or going up a set of stairs, but no one's there?"

"Once," Vern said.

"It's like that. You're not imagining things, of course, but it's not spirits at all. It's just traces people sometimes leave when they do things to objects. They leave behind sounds, feelings, images sometimes. They leave their memories. But they themselves are long gone. That blaster was special, though. Usually traces like that disappear after a few hundred years, but that blaster's sat for 4,000 years and it still has the prints of the last person who touched it. It's really amazing. That whole cave is, really. It's why I like it so much. There's so much history in it, that no one else knows exists."

"Would I need some kind of special ability to see stuff like this?" I asked.

"Sometimes," Dadaro replied. "But you shouldn't have any trouble. You already have that ability."

Yet again, Dadaro had said something baffling.

"What, you mean I'm psychic or something?"

"You're sensitive. You couldn't have made it here if you weren't-- at least, not in time."

Uh oh, I thought, Dadaro was starting that up again. "What do you mean by 'sensitive'?" I asked, trying to redirect the conversation towards something at least a little more manageable.

"You're Force-sensitive," Dadaro said. "Very much so. I bet that's why you were brought here."

"Well... if I'm Force-sensitive, then why can't I read minds, or levitate things, or whatever?"

"You can. It's just been repressed."

"How do you know?"

"I don't know. Things just come. I don't usually understand what they mean, but I try to remember them. It's a bit like getting visions, I suppose."

"So... how would I use this... ability?"

Dadaro sighed. "I wish I could tell you, but I'm not the one. I suppose Onduin could teach you a little, but you wouldn't get far. The only one who can really unlock your abilities is the chosen one. He's meant to be your master. I wish I could give a better explanation, but that's all I know."

"Do you know his name? Do you know anything else about him?"

Dadaro shook his head. "I don't even know who he is. All I know is that it'll be clear who he is when it's time for you to seek him out."

There was a long silence as I thought about this. "What happens if I don't seek him out?"

Dadaro looked thoughtful for a few seconds before answering. "I don't know... things would still work out, somehow. But you would lose the opportunity to do what you were meant to do. And the rift might not be healed for ages to come."

"You said the rift was between... I think pride, and..."

"Anger. Between pride and anger."

"I just don't see the point of that."

"Neither do I. But we might not learn what that means until it's time either."

I found myself re-assessing my view that Dadaro was a lunatic then. He would shift between moments like this, where he seemed like the most stable, rational person I'd ever met, to babbling weird predictions for the future. At least his predictions were consistent from one conversation to the next. It was a bit like talking to a toddler: one can never be sure if they're talking about the real world, or their imaginary world, because they don't distinguish between the two so much. I recalled that moment when he'd picked out a long-gone insignia that had once marked Vern's shoulder. Maybe there was more to Dadaro than a fried brain. Vern had said later that Dadaro was pulling phrases from the Bible-- which he'd never read, as far as anyone knew. It was all circumstantial, but it was still pretty striking.

Onduin got back after a few hours, and we set to packing everything and moving away from the ruins. Dadaro said there was a set of stone ruins not far away that would offer good shelter, and there were some things in it he wanted to discuss with Onduin. When he brought that up, Onduin started looking a little less downcast about being outvoted. I still wanted to go back to town at least, so I could have running water and the like. Marching through the wilderness seemed like serious overkill. It was starting to look interesting, though. There was a lot of history here, and as we set off Dadaro began pointing out all the ways that history had left its prints on the world around us. It seemed like I could hardly take a step without tripping over some ancient artifact.

I was glad I'd gotten used to manual work on Kovnyett, and to carrying my bag through shuttles and spaceports, because now it was just about all I did. Onduin and Dadaro walked side by side, near the front of the group, as Dadaro talked about the story behind every fallen stone block or piece of scrap metal lying around. I walked a little behind, listening. Vern trailed to the back, like some kind of rear guard, always looking a little jittery, glancing over his shoulder now and then. The dirt-faced cliff that ran around the perimeter of the ruins turned out to be part of a big, continuous mesa spilling across the land. Other, similar landforms nearby created relatively flat, grassy paths through which we walked. Dadaro said they'd changed very little in the past few millennia, because erosion in this area was very slow. It was like walking through an enormous maze, with organically curving walls ten to twenty feet high and a bright spring sun overhead.

Even Dadaro was mostly quiet after about half an hour of walking. Vern stopped glancing behind us, and walked a little behind me, as quietly as the rest of us. The grass where we walked now was green and limp, carpeting the ground in thick, knobby clumps. It would have been knee-high if it were standing up straight. We passed a collapsing wooden shack, which Dadaro said once belonged to an old man who lived there. Everything around us was very quiet. On our left we came to several jagged, eroded granite spires, square in cross-section and about eight feet tall, arranged around some kind of sectioned stone surface. Dadaro stopped us in front of this structure, which was tucked into a loop of cliff face and surrounded by short, gnarled trees. The place gave me an odd feeling-- like a mix of peace and fear, and a sudden flash of sadness that would come and go.

"I'm not sure what happened here," Dadaro said.

"It's certainly striking," said Onduin.

"I see the same woman here that I saw when I picked up the blaster from the cave, and there's a Cathar with her, weeping. The Cathar is a woman too."

I asked what a Cathar was, and Onduin described a human-like creature, but with pointed ears, light, patterned skin, and slight, cat-like features. Onduin suddenly gave me a funny look, like something puzzled him. Then he looked back over at the ruins, but as he did, Dadaro started walking towards me.

"Come here," he said happily. "I'm sure you could see it, if you let yourself." He gestured for me to follow him closer to the ruins. I wasn't sure I actually wanted to see anything. "You should try," he insisted.

"I don't know..." I kind of wanted to stay put... "Why should I see anything?"

"I don't know. I just think you could."

"You think she could see these visions?" Onduin said. Dadaro nodded. "It's your call, Andrea."

I stood in indecision for a few seconds, then decided to give in. I thought the odds of anything actually happening were small, but there was still that nagging reminder at the back of my mind that anything was possible. It made me uncomfortable.

I walked a little closer to the ruins, about ten feet away. "You need to stand close," Dadaro said. "Come over here." He pulled me by the arm a little, until I was only a few feet from the ruins. Suddenly, he looked away. I followed his gaze over to Vern, who was glaring in return. Dadaro turned his gaze back over to me, looking confused. That little interchange confused me, too.

"Think about what you feel here, and watch how the grass moves. It changes when you see things," Dadaro said, breaking the awkward silence. "It'll take you a few minutes," he added.

I gave it a try. I focused on thinking about how the place made me feel. It did put off a strange vibe-- almost like the Cathar was still there, crying. That inexplicable sadness would come in pulses now and then, but it was mixed with the feeling that something good happened there. The grass around the ruins was short, and waved slightly in the air. There was almost no wind then. I stood there watching the place for a few minutes. Then, it seemed like the grass got a few shades darker, and it moved differently, like the breeze was coming in from another direction. From the corner of my eye, I saw someone kneeling, and I thought they were wearing red clothes. When I looked, the person vanished, but the grass still looked odd.

"I saw that," I said, feeling a little shaken. Dadaro smiled a little. I kept watching the ruins. A person in dark clothing would appear for a moment, and I could see very clearly their feet planted on the grass and the rocks, but then they would fade away. I thought I saw the kneeling person again, moving a little. It felt like some kind of dream trying to become real.

"If you focus on the woman kneeling, you'll start to really see her," Dadaro said.

When I saw her fade into view again, I tried focusing on her, and really watching her. It was hard, because part of me wanted to slowly back away. At first all I could keep my focus on were her feet and her knees on the ground, but after a minute or two I could see bits of her face now and then, and I got the impression she was weeping, and that she was hanging her head. A bit of oddly white skin would come into focus, and sometimes it would be her hand moving, or her face. I thought I heard a voice now and then. As the initial shock of seeing these things began fading, I realized with a little surprise that this wasn't scary. It was fascinating; it was like seeing a flash of history in the real world. Now I could see another reason why Dadaro might want to bum around the ruins, even if it did turn him loopy.

"Everything the weeping Cathar is doing has to do with the dark figure," Dadaro said, a little quietly. I tried focusing on the dark figure now. As the standing person came into view, a sense of awe I couldn't explain swept over me briefly. This person was a woman too-- but she was human. She had light skin and dark hair in a ponytail, that waved in some ancient breeze. She was wearing black clothing a lot like kung fu robes, with black knee boots. I could make out the glimmer of the sun against them. I heard something humming and fizzing, and saw something bright green moving slightly in the air-- the second time I saw it, I realized it had to be a lightsaber retracting into its hilt. There was something shockingly humble about the weeping Cathar, and it would strike me when I focused on her. When I looked at the standing black-robed woman, I felt a quiet happiness settle over me. The Cathar was facing out from the ruins, towards where Onduin stood now. The black-robed woman faced the Cathar. I watched bits and pieces of the scene, fragments of moments, washing in and out of view. I don't know how long I stood there.

Dadaro tapped me lightly on the shoulder, breaking my concentration. "They won't go away anytime soon," he said. "Besides, where we're going is close. You can come back if you want."

I paused for awhile, watching the spot, but not focusing on it too much. I let the feelings of standing there wash over me. It seemed like the world had gone dead silent around me.

"What do you think?" Onduin asked.

"I don't know," I said, after a long pause. "It's kind of like the kneeling woman is repenting for something."

"Hmm," was his only reply. He gazed at the spot for a few seconds too; then, wordlessly, our group started walking again. Onduin and Dadaro walked towards the front again, but now Vern walked next to me instead of trailing behind. I mulled over what had just happened, feeling a lot of simple amazement. I was so preoccupied, I could hardly focus enough on where I was going to put one foot in front of the other. I'd been through a lot of strange things lately, but I thought this couldn't be far from the top of the list, just for sheer paranormal weirdness. I remembered that Dadaro had predicted I would be able to see these things. It seemed he'd figured it out the same way he'd figured out all the other odd things he said now and then. The circumstantial evidence that there was more to Dadaro than just insanity was starting to pile up.

It was after about ten minutes of walking through winding openings between cliffs that we came to a wide path. A few narrow pillars like those standing at the last set of ruins stood here, while their fallen counterparts marked out what were once two rows of the jagged pillars. At the end of these rows, there was what looked like the entrance to some kind of bunker. The building was blocky and made from dark stone, with a big, vault-like door at the front-- this didn't have any kind of opening mechanism on it, though. I thought part of the structure probably went underground. When I looked at the building, I suddenly felt tense. We walked up to the entrance in silence.

"This is where Revan began her search for the Star Forge," Dadaro said. The Star Forge, he'd explained earlier while talking to Vern, was an enormous factory built over some distant planet by a lost alien race that used energy from the dark side of the Force to effectively fabricate ships out of nothing. The Sith armada, in an attempt to overthrow the Galactic Republic, had used the Star Forge to build their navy 4,000 years ago. Revan, somehow, had destroyed it, but had to track down various clues to find it, or even hear of its existence.

Dadaro touched the door lightly, and it slowly rumbled open. Beyond was a dark passageway leading down somewhere. Onduin started rummaging through one of his bags.

"There are lights inside," Dadaro said. "They're a little dim, but once you get past this tunnel, they'll turn on." He started leading us confidently down into the building. Onduin looked apprehensive, but he followed, as did I. Vern walked next to me, a little closer than usual.

Dadaro, it turned out, was right-- when we reached the bottom of the tunnel, which wasn't as long as it had looked, some dim lights came on around the perimeter of the ceiling of what I now saw was a pretty cavernous room. It was made from the same dark stone as the exterior, and had a cobbled floor. Three more passageways went off from each of the other walls of the room. In the center of the room, which was probably about one hundred feet to a side, was a spider-like robot about five and a half feet tall. It was solid black, except for a small red light on a flat-topped cone that seemed to serve as its head. When we walked into the room, this robot's head turned a little to look at each of us, and it started making weird gurgling and hissing noises.

"It's speaking Selkath!" Onduin exclaimed.

"So that's it!" Dadaro said. "I was hoping you'd know what language it was. I haven't been able to figure it out at all. It's not aggressive, at least. There are two more droids like this one here, and they're not quite as placid. I was able to deactivate them, and they're in different rooms anyway, so they won't give us any trouble. They have shallow lightsaber marks on their hulls from someone else who came here, though. I pick up bits of short battles happening around them, and I see flashes of the black-robed woman there fighting. I think she might be the same one who left her print on the blaster from the cave."

"Revan must have spoken to this droid if she came here," Onduin said.

"Yes," Dadaro said. "If you understand Selkath at all, maybe you could ask it about Revan."

Onduin nodded. "It's obviously an ancient Rakatan droid, so this would also cement the relationship between them and the Star Forge. How did you open the door?"

"It's really quite easy. I just give it the energy it needs to open. If you try to force it open, it'll use your effort to lock itself down even tighter, but if you just give it energy freely, and a little physical touch, it'll take it as a signal to open. It didn't occur to me until a few years ago that a door might use the Force."

"Well, boy, if you'd figured that out earlier, we might've cracked Revan's case 20 years ago!" Onduin grinned, clearly content with the idea of camping out in such an important place. Dadaro smiled, and sat down on the floor, looking sideways at the droid.

"So we're staying here?" I asked. I thought the place was interesting, but I still didn't like the dark corners and the giant, creepy robot.

"That's right," Dadaro said. He pointed up towards the entrance. "That door up there closes automatically behind you when you walk through it, so don't panic. I thought it would be a good defense, though, in case we did need to hide from someone. I don't think ion bombs could get through this roof." I saw Vern's shoulders relax visibly. He set the supplies he'd been carrying on the floor. The rest of us did the same before long. It was nice to finally get the weight off my shoulders, and let the sweaty spots on my back air out a little.