An Old Man

Finding Ben Kenobi's hovel, feeling the surge of truth and power flow through me to my toes and knowing that a part of my written destiny had been realized -- all of this brought me up to a level of mental and emotional awareness that was difficult to process.

What's more, returning home to Dantooine and taking up my daily responsibilities once again felt hollow and empty in comparison. I felt like I had touched the true nature of the universe for a brief moment, only to be forced to let it slip through my fingers.

Maybe that's why I dismissed the old man at first. Maybe I was too wrapped up in my own conflicting emotions to notice, or even care, that he was studying me intently from a distance, leaning on a wooden staff and rubbing his chin.

I was leaning against the wall at the shuttleport in Crystal Point, a town that once thrived but had recently declined due to an insurgence of raids by Force crystal hunters. The town was located just South of the Crystal Caves, where many of the galaxy's most precious gems had been found. Crystal Point would have been a bustling metropolis, a huge mining town, if it hadn't been for the multitude of creatures that infested the Caves. The place was inhospitable, accessible to only the most hearty of adventurers. What's more, the crystal hunters, a nomadic band of scavengers who were reputed to wield weapons of mystical power, frequently preyed upon anything and anyone who neared the caverns. Their influence was great enough to have stifled the growth of Crystal Point considerably.

I had come to Crystal Point on a surveying mission, following the data from my mineral surveying tools as they pointed me toward a dense lode of metals that I could use as raw materials in manufacturing.

It was a good excuse, and a viable one, but nevertheless I knew that the real reason I had traveled out to this remote corner of Dantooine was the image of Obi-wan Kenobi's earthen hut, which had altered in my mind, changing from a source of inspiration to a haunting omen. I could not manage to stop thinking about it, and the Path I feared might have come to an end. For what was I to do now, that Master Skywalker's counsel had proven so significant, yet without result? I knew nothing more than I did a month ago. I had come far, but felt I had moved nowhere.

As my mind occupied itself with the arduous task of untangling this mess of thoughts, the old man finally approached me, scuffling up a small slope to stand before me.

"Maast Lofor," he said, "The Force is with you."

I looked up at him, my mind suddenly wrenched from its introspection. "How do you know that?" I asked, incredulous.

"I know a great many things, my dear boy," the man answered, "But some are more obvious than others. The Force is on you like bark on a tree, friend. A blind man could see it."

I started to look down at my body, before catching myself and blushing at my own foolishness. The old man didn't seem to notice.

"I need your help," he said.

I nodded. "Go on," I said.

The old man glanced around us furtively, then stepped closer. I saw now that he was dressed in the clothes of a simple pilgrim: wrapped boots, cloth pants and a baggy poncho of nondescript color and material. From beneath the worn garment, a gnarled hand suddenly produced a curious looking object. He held it out to me.

"I need you to protect this for me."

I looked at the object. It was a crystal, I saw now, transluscent and bluish in color. It had three protrusions, being in fact a cluster of crystals, and its facets were large and reflective. It seemed to glow from within. "What is it?" I asked.

He hesitated, as if unsure of how to respond. "It is a guide. It is a very useful object in the right hands."

"And those hands are mine?" I asked.

The old man shrugged. "I don't know, boy. Could be. All I know is that this crystal means more than my old life, and if I don't pass it on soon, both of those things are going to fall into the wrong hands."

"What do you mean?"

"You ever hear of the Sith?" he said. When I shook my head, he continued, "The Sith are Force users, but from the wrong side of the tracks, if you know what I mean. The Dark Side. Bad medicine. They caught wind of our little secret here, and they've been on my tail ever since I left Dearic. They'll catch up with me soon, unless I give this to someone who can properly protect it. You seem like the type."

Thoughts of my long, hard hours spent training in the arts of Fencing and Teräs Käsi flashed before my mind. I was indeed prepared for such a task. The possibility of that being a coincidence was now almost certainly ruled out.

I nodded, and accepted the crystal. I placed it in my pack, wrapped in a spare shirt and concealed as best I could.

"Listen," the old man said, "These Sith are up to no good. They've been causing a lot of trouble for the people where I come from. When they come after you -- and they will, believe me -- try and see what you can find out from them. Maybe you can discover some information that could be of help."

"Where do you come from?" I asked, "And how will I find you?"

"I come from Aurilia," he said, "And don't worry about it. You'll find me when you need to find me. Or," he said, a sly grin crinkling his weathered face, "I should say, I'll find you." With that he turned, and hobbled away just as the Crystal Point shuttle arrived behind me.