It was a dark and stormy night. Well, it would be if the area had a dependable weather forecaster. The date? The day before the Final Battle. It didn't matter when each Final Battle was; it was that day in this place out of time. It had no other name save the Nexus. At this point, any reader familiar with Star Trek will exclaim that it is part of Star Trek. But it is not that Nexus. No, this Nexus is more like the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, except with some scenery attached (but there is still a parking lot). In any case, there was a tavern. It was very busy this night, as one would expect (you don't really expect every hero in the universe to go off to certain death sober, do you?), and one specific person was buying rounds for the entire house. Both of his longtime drinking buddies were somewhat embarrassed, but didn't really care that much. After all, one was already dead, and the other was something like immortal.
There were many people in the bar from various places. In one corner (there were as many dark corners in this tavern as in a medieval RP tavern), you could go talk to James Bond, but he was there every night and actually didn't have a Final Battle to go to. As an annoying American Gundam pilot had said moments before, Bond was "one hell of a lucky bastard." Duo had then gone back to annoying Heero. The Gundam pilots had their own little section of this very large tavern and were very loud, although a good number of them were incredibly somber and way too sober for their own good, but their rambunctiousness was nothing compared to the group that was about to go against the forces that were commanded by the man who had bought rounds for everyone. Yes, the Rebellion was intent on getting as smashed as possible. Luckily for them and the rest of the people here, they would not remember ever visiting this strange place or have a hangover from all of the alcohol consumption. Rogue Squadron really appreciated that.
As mentioned, Darth Vader had bought everyone rounds, but this occurrence was more because he looked and acted like Anakin Skywalker again, except he was still forty-four years old and was more sarcastic than ever. Auron, his deceased friend, really didn't care that Anakin had gone off the deep end twenty-two years back. He and the rest of the people that knew Anakin from before had known his fate in advance, but the rules of the Nexus prevented them from ever telling him his fate. So, Auron didn't care that Anakin was evil, especially since the Dark Lord wouldn't be, come tomorrow night. Plus, the dude was buying them drinks. Vincent Valentine shared a similar opinion as Auron, except Vincent just didn't care. At least Anakin had fallen without knowing what he was getting into. Kind of. And there was the whole saving-Padmé thing. Vincent understood that. Hell, he had gotten shot and locked in a coffin for it. Except that he had been trying to talk sense into Hojo on Lucretia's behalf. It was the same difference. He knew it wasn't, but Vincent was in drunken-rationalization mode and couldn't be bothered to come up with an explanation that made any degree of sense. Go figure.
No one in the tavern really cared that his archrival could be sitting three feet away. Either they were too drunk to care or they felt like just having a drink and trying to talk the situation out. The latter was not really working for many people, and those that could try and possibly succeed weren't. They already had to try that tomorrow. They didn't want to think about it now. Too bad some clarification could have stopped a great many things from happening. In any case, Luke Skywalker was sitting next to his father and had been doing so for the past three hours. Neither had noticed the other's presence since then. That may have been caused by Anakin's insistence on ordering everyone another round every ten minutes or Luke's attempt to stay sober while monitoring the Rogues as they drank themselves unconscious. Half were halfway there.
"Wedge, don't you think that you guys should get going?" Luke asked tiredly. There were two Wedges standing there. Maybe Luke was more drunk than he thought. That vodka bottle had so not been there three minutes ago. "I mean, you have to fly tomorrow."
"It doesn't matter!" Hobbie announced. "We're all gonna die anyway. I could at least go out not knowing I'm gone. Wait. What did I just say?" he asked before passing out.
"Hm. You have a point," Wedge conceded. "But we don't have a designated driver."
"What about Tycho?" Luke asked. "I mean, he's not the type to---"
"You mean the guy that's talking to a telephone booth, Oh Fearless Leader?" Wes asked.
"I stand corrected," Luke said. Okay. So he was drunk, but he wasn't going to drink again anytime soon. After he finished off the---wait. Where did the alcohol go? Oh. The guy next to him is using the same bottle. He looks awfully familiar, Luke reflected.
"And weren't you supposed to leave with Han and Leia?" Tycho asked the empty barstool next to him. " 'Cause they left a hour ago, I think. That, or they're outside."
"Er," Luke decided not to respond to that question. The stormtroopers who were supposed to be watching him were not around. Luke had the funny feeling that they were back with the shuttle. But where with Vader be, then? It couldn't be the guy next to him, because that guy was talking to two Final Fantasy characters, and they didn't exist. Or did they? They probably did, since Neo of the Matrix just ran into some pirate or ninja all of a minute ago, and the cussing match that ensued was definitely real. Or Luke was just stuck in a really, really bad nightmare, and when he woke up, he'd be eighteen again and bored as hell on Tatooine. "I don't wanna go back home. It sucks," Luke said, having completely ignored Tycho (who was now talking to some Starfleet officer and demanding the weather report on Alderaan).
"My home sucks, too," the guy sitting next to Luke said. "I don't want to go back. It really, really has some problems right now, and I don't feel like fighting anymore."
"That makes two of us," Luke replied, now staring at the bar counter. "But we'll have to go back sooner or later. And then the universe will go to hell, and 'evil' or whatever the hell that is will win, and the Rebellion will be crushed, and I'll probably turn evil, and … I forget."
"You sound very sober," the guy said. "I have a feeling you need another drink."
"It won't help, trust me," Luke muttered. "It'll only be a short reprieve."
"I agree, he's wa-a-ay too sober," Vincent Valentine said. If this was any kind of vision, Luke really wondered what the hell the Force was on right now, because the three advice-giving people should not be more drunk than he was. Not to mention that all of them should exist.
"Oh, hey. Tycho's talking to that one guy from that old movie that looks like Han," Luke noticed. He really couldn't remember what that guy's name was, but he was named after some dog. "And Tycho's asking him about how Leia is … Tycho's so dead."
"Do I know you?" Guy-Sitting-Next-To-Luke said curiously. " 'Cause you're talking about a number of people I know about." He paused and giggled. "Actually," he continued mock-seriously. "I have a very funny story involving one of them and some carbon dioxide."
"That had to be the stupidest thing you've said all night," Auron mentioned to his friend, who then shrugged nonchalantly and laughed as Tycho Celchu walked into a table.
"I really don't know any of them," Luke announced. "I don't know Wes; I don't know Tycho; I really don't know Hobbie (he's the one that passed out); I don't know We---Wait. No, Wedge's been sane tonight. I still know Wedge. I don't know the rest of the Squad---"
"I know!" the guy next to Luke exclaimed. "You're with the Rebellion!"
Luke turned to stare at the guy very seriously. "No, shit. I've only been sitting here trying to keep them from killing themselves by drinking too much alcohol all night. Of course I'm with the Rebellion!" Luke exclaimed right back. Geez, how stupid was this guy?
"Oh. That's good," the very drunk man said. He went on to explain why it was good that Luke was with the Rebellion: " 'Cause I kinda lost someone I came in with, and he's a Rebel---"
"Dad?" Luke suddenly asked, feeling very stupid at the moment. Of course he looked familiar! But Luke did have something of a reason as to why he didn't recognize his own father. After all, the man had been dressed in armor head-to-toe for the last twenty-two years, which was basically Luke's entire lifespan so far. That thought was somewhat depressing.
Anakin looked very confused for a moment before asking, "How long have you been sitting here next to me?" Mr. Valentine slammed his head into the table and murmured, "For God's sake… Why the hell---no, how the hell do I know him?"
Luke thought for a moment. "How long have we been here?" he asked.
"Oh," Anakin then said. That was embarrassing. "Wait… Where are the storm-people-thing-clone-whatevers? I thought they were supposed to be watching you?"
"You, my friend, are out of your mind," Auron mentioned to Anakin. "Not that any of us have ever thought otherwise, but now is the time to really tell you the truth. We do, and always have, thought that you are completely insane and bonkers. You have more than a few screws loose. There were never any proverbial screws to begin with."
Anakin grinned. Vincent figured the alcohol was really getting to the Dark Lord. "Of course I am," he declared. "Otherwise I wouldn't have ever stepped foot in here. Or struck up a decent conversation with Luke, which kinda sounds very impossible. We can't have a civilized conversation for more than five minutes without igniting lightsabers and dueling to the death."
"We are right now," Luke mentioned. "Or have we not hit the five minute mark?"
"This place doesn't count," Anakin corrected. "It's special." He paused. "We need more drinks." Anakin turned to the bartender. "Give everyone another round!" he exclaimed.
"You do know you can buy yourself a drink without treating everyone," Luke mentioned.
"Don't tell him. Not many people here have enough money on them to keep staying drunk," Auron said. "Myself and Vincent included. And probably most of the Rebels."
Luke groaned and hit his head against the counter. "The High Command barely gives us a salary, and when we were on Hoth, we had to eat ice for rations for a week!"
"It beats Imperial rations," Anakin said.
"You haven't eaten solid food since before you chi---son was born!" Vincent exclaimed at his friend. Luke decided that it was definitely not a good thing that people from other worlds held information about other people's worlds. Because, if Valentine said anything about Leia being Luke's sister, very bad things would happen come the morrow. Luke didn't put it past his father to use Leia as leverage or blackmail or something along those lines in order to make sure Luke fell to the Dark Side. Luke decided he really was thinking too clearly.
"Why the hell did I turn myself in?" Luke exclaimed rather loudly. The bar suddenly quieted down with the exclamation. Luke had a bad feeling about this situation. A very bad feeling. Like when Leia decided to escape through the garbage chute. Or when she wanted to go try and free Han by going into Jabba's palace dressed bounty hunter's garb by herself (Luke managed to talk her out of trying on her own by working it into the plan that she ended up taking over and coming up with). This episode was starting to top the cake.
"What?" Wedge asked. "You did what? You turned yourself in?" he repeated. Most of the tavern was now staring at Luke, who decided he really didn't like the attention.
"Uh…" was the only response Luke could formulate at the moment, so the Final Fantasy people decided to step in and help out. Vincent explained: "What he means to say is that he's doing something incredibly stupid that has a very high chance of failure but also a very high return in the long run. Sure, he might die or fall to the darkness, but he also might live and rejoin you guys for the Blowing-Up-the-Giant-Space-Station after-party. I can't say anymore."
"We're actually not allowed to say anything more," Auron added. "It's one of the rules."
"It's kinda on the level of jumping out of a speeder into Coruscant traffic during rush hour," Anakin supplied. He paused for a moment, and everyone in the bar stared at him like he was insane. "Actually," he added, "That was very fun. It scared the shit out of Obi-Wan, too, which is, as everyone should know, always a bonus. God, the Jedi Council was stupid."
Luke lifted up the vodka bottle and read the label. "This conversation was brought to you by Romulan-brand vodka," he said. "As such, I think we should ignore him."
Someone who did not sound very drunk in the back asked, "Who the hell is that?"
Anakin snickered and said, "Aladdin Sane---NO! Ziggy Stardust!" He snickered some more before putting on a straight face and starting to walk out. Right before he walked into the door, he turned around and said, "Actually, I'm a Dark Lord of the Sith. I'd stay longer, but I have a Rebellion to crush, a kid to convert, and an emperor to murder. The day tomorrow's gonna be kinda long, so I'm leaving. Peace, out." He then turned around and walked into the door. Luke really felt like disowning his father then and there, but when he saw how Valentine and Auron had reacted, he realized this was a normal occurrence. How the hell did he and Leia turn out okay, then? Luke then realized his mother had to be a saint or something like it. "I meant to do that!" Anakin explained before opening the door and trying to exit the building again.
"If anyone wants to know, he used to be twice as bad," Vincent informed everyone.
"At least he didn't do his Captain Kirk impression," Auron mentioned as Anakin walked back in. Everyone resumed staring at the incredibly drunk Dark Lord. "I forgot something," he explained and walked over to Luke, who was then dragged out of the tavern by the collar of his shirt. That particular incident left a great deal of them silent for more than an awkward pause.
"Did that just happen?" a very confused X-man asked.
"Sadly, yes, that did just happen," Wedge replied before asking no one in particular, "Why in all of the Corellian hells did Luke turn himself in? How dim is he?"
"You saw that guy, right?" Vincent asked.
"What did that have anything to do with that question I just asked?" Wedge countered.
"If I said that they were very closely related, how surprised would you be?" Vincent continued. He did not have to wait very long for a reply.
"That makes a whole hell of a lot of sense!" Wes interrupted. "How the hell can Luke be related to---to---what's his name again?"
Tycho, attempting to talk to Wes, then said to a lamp, "I can't believe you forgot who Vader is! I mean, he's kinda hard to miss, but I guess you can or something." Everyone in the bar turned to look at Tycho, who was still railing at the lamp.
"Wait. Luke is related to Vader?" Wes said, trying to understand in his impaired state.
"Yes," the rest of the bar sans all the Rebels and most of the random Imperials scattered around the tavern answered. After all, they had access to that sort of information via movies.
"To cut a long story short," Auron began, "Anakin was a good guy, but turned evil for a very stupid reason then lost hope and stayed with evil because he had nothing better to do."
"And there was the whole all-consuming rage and need for revenge against the Jedi Order," Vincent added. "Anakin, as you can tell, has a great many anger management problems,"
"Says the man who turns into demons whenever he gets pissed off enough," Cloud Strife murmured under his breath, but Vincent still caught the comment and glared at him. Cloud happened to be sitting at a table near the door and had been watching the scene with interest.
"The man whose hair resembles a chocobo's backside makes a very good point," Squall Leonhart pointed out. Cloud glared at him for that, but then went back to drowning his sorrows in alcohol. Squall continued, "I mean, I don't even know why the hell I'm stuck here, but you kind of have no right to talk about anger management problems if what he said is true."
Auron and Vincent stared at Leonhart for a few moments before Auron said to Vincent, "He acts absolutely nothing like Laguna, which makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. It goes completely off of the established trend. Although, until we find Leto's kid, I don't think we can call it a trend. Then again, Leonhart is nothing like what we expected, and Laguna does have that annoying habit of completely surprising you. Yesterday he called and asked if I knew anyone who would like a free ride to this space station. That was hard to explain to Wakka."
Squall, who was now a little confused, turned to Cloud, who was only one table away, and asked, "Do they usually completely ignore whoever's talking to them?"
Cloud stared at Squall for a moment before deigning to reply. "I only know Vincent," he answered. "He's the one in red," Cloud went on to say before realizing that both Auron and Vincent were dressed in red. He decided to stop drinking anything more tonight and clarified, "Vince's the one with the cape. I don't know who the other guy is; I've never met him."
"You're awfully lucid for being drunk," Squall commented wryly. He was underage and therefore hadn't had anything alcoholic, which he was rather grateful for. This night provided for quite a bit of amusing blackmail material for most of the universe. Not that he would use it.
Cloud grimaced and explained, "That's because my damn metabolism processes the alcohol too quickly. It's a side effect of Mako treatments. So, I actually haven't imbibed much of the booze that whoever-the-hell that was gave to everyone. I figured it was a waste of time and good drink. I take it you're too young or something?"
"Beer tastes like shit," Squall answered laconically. Cloud stared at him with an eyebrow raised. "Look, I'm not drinking because I'm seventeen. As why I have the other reason, I've had nonalcoholic beer. It tasted like shit. Therefore, normal beer probably tastes worse."
"You're only seventeen?" Cloud repeated, somewhat skeptical. "You seem to be more mature than most of the adults present here, myself included."
"How old are you?" Squall asked, a little curious.
Cloud shrugged and replied, "Twenty-one this past August." He glanced over at the rest of the people he had come in with. Tifa was trying to keep Cid from strangling Cait Sith for some reason, and a little farther away, Yuffie was stalking Vincent, who then tripped her a few seconds later. "What caused you to come here? Is there a raging psychopath trying to take over and/or destroy the world you're from? Or is it a typical war or revolt?"
"Nutcase sorceresses are trying to take over the world," Squall replied. "And you?"
"This guy I used to respect once upon a time went crazy and is currently trying to become a god by causing a meteor to ram into the planet," Cloud replied. "Plus, he killed … well, he's killed a lot of people. There have been a number of massacres, and …"
"So it's personal revenge, too?" Squall hazarded. "Hey, it's as good a motive as any," he mentioned. "But at least you are thinking about everyone else, too. Who did he kill?"
Cloud stared down at the table and replied, "It started out as revenge for my hometown and all that jazz, but then I …" He sighed and looked off to the side. "There was this girl. She was one of the most wonderful people I'd ever met. I---I don't know anymore, but I think I was in love with her. That may have just been my mind playing tricks one me again, but I'd like to think that I loved---love her." He smiled wanly. "I couldn't save her. She was murdered right in front of me, and I did nothing. I could only watch as she died in my arms." He shook his head. "I probably make no sense," Cloud murmured. "I mean, Tifa's still here and would probably do anything in her power to keep me from dying, and I just don't know what to do anymore."
Squall now felt kind of awkward. Maybe he shouldn't have started the conversation with the somewhat mentally unstable and possibly (Possibly? Squall thought to himself. No, probably is the better word.) very drunk man. "So, who's Tifa?" he decided to ask.
Cloud looked up at Squall then looked around from Tifa. He pointed at her and said, "You see that brunette over there? The one that just decked that guy? That's Tifa." Cloud sighed. "I have no clue why the hell any of my friends put up with any of my crap, but I'm even more clueless as to why she---for some reason beyond me---won't leave me, come hell or high water."
Squall was now very confused. "Wait," he said. "You mean to say that you have a girl who could easily be a supermodel following you around, and you want her to leave you alone?"
"Yes," Cloud replied. Then he saw the look on Squall's face. "I'm insane; I know," he added. "Actually, I do not doubt that you could have me committed. God knows I'm legally insane. It's not really my fault, either; although I guess it could be." He smiled at Squall and said, "Look, I'm sure you're really creeped out right about now. I wouldn't be insulted if you ran off to join your friends. Hell, I'd want to run away from myself."
"You really don't think all that much of yourself, do you?" Squall realized, deciding to stay. Hell, if the man knew he wasn't completely there, someone should be watching him, especially since he talked like he didn't particularly care about what would happen to him.
Cloud shrugged and answered, "Not really. If I die tomorrow, it doesn't really matter; as long as I kill Sephiroth or his plan is foiled, I'll die happy. Or something like happy." He paused again and added, "It would be nice if all my friends lived, too. Well, the ones that are left."
"Just a question," Squall started, "but why don't you really want Tifa following you?"
Cloud glanced over at her and replied, "First, I don't want her getting killed by anything. I've already caused too many of my friends' deaths. Secondly, I don't really like all of the attention. Yes, it is nice to know that there will always be someone there for me, but … She's been more smothering me recently than doing any good." Cloud grimaced and went on to explain the underlying reasons:
"I knew her back when we were kids. She was the popular girl, and I was the kid who the rest of the boys hated. I always had a sneaking suspicion it was because my father had left my mother and me to go off somewhere. I haven't seen him in seventeen years, It doesn't really matter anyway; everyone my age hated me, end of story. Tifa wasn't even aware of my existence until a year or two before I left town. But I'd actually always liked her. I almost got myself killed for her. She---After her mother had died, she'd gone off to go climb the mountains (my hometown is at the base of a mountain range). However, she wasn't really in her right mind. I don't think she really remembers what happened. She knows now, but that's because I … told her. It's complicated." He paused and stared at Squall. "Don't ask. It's too long a story."
Squall held up his hands in defense. "I wasn't going to ask," he replied.
Cloud nodded and continued, "So, she was climbing, and some of her friends were with her. I was following because I was worried about her. I think I was about eight. I can't remember anything before three months ago very clearly. Anyway, her friends slowly deserted until I was the only one left watching. Then the rope bridge she was on snapped. I tried to help, but I only got trapped, too. The bridge broke; we fell. She was knocked unconscious, and I was in terrible shape. I think I broke something, but I can't remember. Her father was furious with me. All the adults thought I'd led her there. I hadn't, but they weren't about to believe me. Tifa's dad then told me to stay away from her, and so I did from then on. I watched from a distance."
Squall grimaced. "Let me guess," he said. "She then became interested because she couldn't talk to you? Or is there some other reason?"
Cloud laughed caustically. "I don't know," he said bitterly before toning down the anger. "I … I still care about her, but only as more of a friend, you know? I really cared about her for damn near half my life, but we never really knew each other when we were children. I near worshiped her, but she never noticed. She only really became interested in me when I was gone, but by then it was too late. I entered this military training program, and it was all I thought about for near two years. I was rejected for reasons unknown. Then Seph---Sephiroth went insane. He almost killed Tifa (we were on a mission back in my town), but she lived. I think I killed him."
"How can he be alive if you killed him?" Squall asked. "Wait, he isn't one of those annoying types that just won't die, is he? God, that must suck."
Cloud then laughed at that comment. "Yeah, it does," he admitted. "Worst thing ever." He laughed a little more. "I'm too melodramatic for my own good," Cloud decided.
Squall shrugged. "Not really. You could be worse," he pointed out. "You could be in the same state as that guy who keeps talking to inanimate objects."
A man in black happened to be walking by at that point and stopped at the comment. He cocked his head to the side and said, "You know, I think that might be Tycho Celchu."
Cloud stared at the random person and resisted the urge to ask him if he was drunk. They were in a bar. "Who are you, and why do you say that?" For good measure, he also added, "And who, by the way, is Tycho Celchu, and why would he not normally act like that?"
The man in black sat down at the table Cloud was sitting at. Squall took this as a sign to move over as well. "Okay. I am Thomas Anderson," the man said, introducing himself. "My friends call me annoying and a dumbass. I would prefer if you called me Neo." Cloud and Squall looked at each other with a look that communicated how crazy they thought this guy was. "As to the stuff about the very drunk one over there," Neo continued, "he is hanging out in the Rebel Alliance section with what appears to be Rogue Squadron. Also, he is blond."
"I'm blond, too," Cloud pointed out. "That means near nothing."
Neo sighed exasperatedly and explained, "No. You are Cloud Strife. I reached that conclusion because you are trying to avoid the FFVII people and are blond. Plus, your hair is … weird. In any case, there are few platinum blond fighter pilots in the Rebellion. Also, he has been talking to that hat rack and asking people how the weather on Alderaan is. Wes Janson also commented about how Celchu was talking to a telephone booth."
"You are aware that you've said almost nothing that makes any degree of sense, right?" Squall asked the obviously very inebriated man. "What does this do with anything?"
Neo sat there in contemplation for a moment. "I … don't know," he said. "Maybe I should go back to that one annoying guy who looked like he was high. Kept saying he was Paul Atreides or something. Quite frankly, I wouldn't have been surprised."
"I am not high!" exclaimed the man who had been mentioned by Neo moments before. He walked over in a squiggly curve that may have resembled a line in some dimension, but not it this one. "And I---Wait a second," he started before looking at Cloud and Squall. "I wouldn't have expected either of you two to put up with any of Neo's shit."
"How do you know who I am?" Neo shouted, a little freaked out.
"I can see the future, dumbass," Paul explained. "And you're going to do fine tomorrow. You'll get shot a couple times, but you'll be alive in the end. Maybe a little wiser than before, but I don't think being dead really helps with the smartness factor." He fell over.
Cloud stared at Paul for a moment. "How drunk is he?" he wondered out loud. Squall shrugged and nudged Paul in the shoulder with his boot. Paul seemed to be unconscious. "Please don't say he's passed out," Cloud pleaded. "I wish I was away from here."
"As do we all," Paul responded from the floor. Squall jumped back a little bit. "You're a very lucky man, Mr. Leonhart," Paul continued. "You get a nice ending. Everything's happy, happy, happy. Mr. Strife, stop complaining. It's giving me a headache. Trust in whatever. Everything will turn out all right in the end, especially since some people can't keep their noses out of other worlds' business. One such example of said type of loon is the guy who bought us drinks. He's very strange." Paul paused for a moment. "I need to go find his son and yell at him."
Neo winced. "Bad news. Paul is in deep drunkenness. I must abort my mission," he decided and walked off in the direction of Tycho Celchu. They then had a very enlightening conversation on various types of alcohol and weaponry before switching topics to a very confusing topic in their minds, something that they doubted they would ever understand: women.
Unfortunately, Neo's departure left Cloud and Squall alone with Paul. "What do we do with him?" Squall asked, staring at Paul. "I mean, we can't just leave him here… Can we?"
"We could go off and help him find whoever he's looking for," Cloud suggested. "That way, he's not our problem anymore, and we've technically helped him."
Paul sat up at that point and stared at the two Final Fantasy heroes. "Look. All I want to know is where the hell the two main characters of Star Wars went," he said. "Can you tell me?"
Squall, assuming that Paul meant the guy that bought all the drinks and the other guy who the first dragged out of the room, pointed to the door. "They went that way," Cloud supplied.
"Thank you, citizens," Paul said and walked into the wall. He was a couple of feet off in comparison to the door. Luckily, he managed to find the door on his own and walked outside, leaving Cloud and Squall confused yet relieved that Paul had left.
Paul Atreides, although in a drunken stupor, had a remarkably clear mind at the moment. It was strange, because although he usually saw all sorts of futures, he currently only saw one. For him, that was bad, because he saw himself get killed by a palace guard at the order of his sister, which kind of sucked majorly. For Skywalker… well, Paul really envied the guy right now. Hence why he wanted to yell at him. Paul knew he shouldn't be envious, but he didn't really care at the moment. Besides, Paul figured that Skywalker would prefer to talk to him at the moment than sit in an Imperial shuttle and listen to Vader (drunkenly) yell at the guards. If not, Paul would be amused at the situation and watch instead.
However, he didn't have to go far to find who he was looking for. Even though this area was technically nowhere, there was a curb. Sitting on the curb a little off to the side of the doorway was Luke. He apparently had managed to grab the bottle of whatever he had been drinking before his father had dragged him out of the tavern. Paul sat down next to him. "Hey," Luke said, smiling. "I take it you're Paul Atreides?"
Paul stared at him. "Yes," Paul replied. "And you're Luke Skywalker."
"Wedge called me. That's how I knew you were coming out to talk to me," Luke explained. "Wedge actually said that you were freaking out two Final Fantasy characters, and I remembered what Neo---that guy with the sunglasses---had said earlier."
"Do you have any clue why I even wanted to talk to you?" Paul asked.
"Not really," Luke replied. "I figured you would have stayed away from me, seeing as you're more for empires and stuff like that while I'm trying to help reinstitute a republic."
Paul shrugged. "I actually don't like you that much, but seeing as I'm stoned out of my mind, and you think you're going off to die, I think we'll get along fine for today at least."
Luke grinned and laughed. "I thought it was something like that," he admitted. "So, what do you want to talk about? I mean, you obviously had a reason for coming out here."
"You're a very lucky man," Paul said. "I just wanted to tell you that. I kind of thought it was so senseless about how so many people in there were drinking themselves stupid when most of them are going to make it. Well, the heroes, anyway. People like you and me and Strife. Neo, not so much, but I more feel very badly for him since he's … to put it kindly, not all there. And speaking of Strife, he really doesn't know what he has. You know those Gundam pilots?"
"Which ones?" Luke asked. "I only recognize the ones from G and Wing."
"Wing," Paul replied. "They don't expect to live or anything, but they will. Makes no sense sometimes, but a good number of us are silly for expecting anything other than tragedy or a happy ending. You, for instance, have little reason to not expect a happy ending. For God's sake! You're practically at that point already. Once the DS-2 is blown up, it's mostly downhill from there. You and your friends will all eventually settle down and stuff. Have faith."
"Sorry about what happens to you, by the way," Luke said suddenly. "When I was younger, I actually read the Dune books. To tell the truth, I stopped after the third one." He paused, wondering how much more he should say. "I had … reasons."
"Like you had no interest whatsoever in reading about the further adventures of my son, the giant worm god?" Paul suggested. Luke looked a little embarrassed. "I feel the same way, trust me. Hence why you are lucky, and I am an idiot. I can see the future, but it has so many bad endings, and every action changes it, but I know my sister will order my death."
Luke shrugged. "The future is always in motion," he reminded Paul. "That may not come to pass. For instance, how do you know that what you're seeing now is what will come true?"
Paul stared at Luke very seriously and said, "I can only see one future at the moment. It isn't changing. This conversation doesn't change any of it. Me talking to Strife, Neo, Leonhart, and a plethora of other people changed absolutely nothing. They still will make the same decisions and mistakes. Nothing changed this vision. Besides, it included some covenant."
Luke thought about what the covenant could be. "Wait," he said. "You don't mean the one where if any outside force from deep space attacked any given group of planets that the Republic, the Federation, and the Imperium would have to pool their forces to stop it?"
"Yep," Paul replied. "We don't use it; don't worry. It gets modified into a real treaty."
"That would be nice," Luke decided. "There wouldn't be any cause for war…"
"Your world---the Empire or Republic, whatever it is---really does want peace very badly, doesn't it?" Paul said. "I, sorry to say, wouldn't have thought that."
"It's made us realize how much we want peace," Luke said. "At least, it's how I see it."
"You're a lucky man, Luke," Paul repeated. "You don't have to deal with any of the crap I end up dealing with, but that's because you stay out of politics. Unfortunately, if I go through with what I am about to, I cannot return rule to the masses. It would cause too much chaos."
"I guess. Your government is too stabilized. Any change could cause mass uprising," Luke agreed. "Then again, that could cause either a better government or, as you say, chaos."
"Everyone needs a little rebellion now and then," Paul quoted.
"Good luck, Paul," Luke said and stood up. "I have to go. My father will flip out if he knew I snuck out again. It was nice talking to you. Goodbye." He smiled and walked off.
"The Force is with you!" Paul shouted after him and smiled. Maybe Luke was right. Then again, maybe Neo wouldn't get shot in the morning and Sephiroth wouldn't be defeated. Paul stared at the bottle still sitting on the curb. "I really need to stop drinking," Paul decided. If he were to achieve clarity in seeing the future because of it, he'd rather leave everything up to free will. He looked up and noticed that it was getting light out. "Time is fleeting." He grinned. "Then again, madness has already taken its toll." Paul laughed and waited for the sun to rise.
Again, thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. Kudos go to anyone who can identify what I quoted at the end...