One Solar Flare, Two Solar Flare, Three Solar Flare – Floor!
"Here, here!" Obi-Wan called out. He stood up from his seat at the bar, his glass raised high over his head. "He speaks the truth!"
Obi-Wan gave the glass another shake then slammed back the rest of its contents.
"Sit down," the figure next to him said. He raised his black-gloved hand and motioned for Obi-Wan to take his seat.
"Yeah, yeah…" Obi-Wan grumbled. "Just when it was getting good."
"From a certain point of view." The figure breathed behind his black, triangular mask. It was a breathing pattern that never stopped and never changed. Not even for emotion.
And for once, Obi-Wan was not terrified of it.
"Hey, now. Don't go using my words against me."
"I only do as my master instructs."
Obi-Wan stared at him. Through the toxic mix of alcohol running through his system, he could not tell whether his former apprentice was jesting him.
"I've heard those words before…bartender!"
Obi-Wan raised his hand to catch the attention of the grimy Bothan.
"What? You and your friend want more drinks? I don't think so – I'm going to have to call CorSec soon to escort you two out of here."
"You dare to deny Lord Vader his request?" Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up. Clearly the alien was a fool.
"Trust me…you…don't want the rest of the Fimperial Eet - Imperial Feet – stang!" Vader's speech sounded slurred through his vocabulator. Which was impossible – everything about Vader was mechanized now. Well, almost everything.
The Bothan rolled his eyes, aware that if the daunting Sith Lord were capable of using the Force correctly, he would have already been dead. He quickly whipped up two Corellian Solar Flares – a drink known to be so intoxicating that the phrase went: "One Solar Flare, two Solar Flare, three Solar Flare – floor!"
Both Force-wielders were well beyond the third Solar Flare mark.
Obi-Wan and Vader took the drinks in hand at the same time. Facing each other, they raised the triangular glasses and clinked them together in a toast. Together they washed them both down in one massive gulp. Obi-Wan set his glass back on the counter with a loud clink, getting a warning look from the Bothan. Obi-Wan suppressed a giggle and tried to show his best innocent expression.
"You know…this was a good idea. I think we both needed this," Obi-Wan said to Vader.
"It sure was. You were sitting in a hole in the middle of the desert, rotting…"
"You were stressed out from killing incompetent Admirals and chasing the Rebellion…"
"And what are you trying to say?"
"I dunno. What are you trying to say?"
Former master and apprentice looked at each other. Obi-Wan tried to keep a straight face but broke down in laughter. He leaned forward, his face nearly on the countertop, and smacked his hand repeatedly on the bar. Vader let out an expletive.
"Hey! Keep your language down or I will call CorSec!" the Bothan shouted at them.
"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked Vader, regaining himself from his fit of laughter.
"This kriffing – can't laugh–"
Obi-Wan burst out laughing again. "You can't even talk."
"Sure…you know what?"
"Huh?" Obi-Wan straightened up in his seat. He forced himself to think through all the alcoholic fuzz in his brain.
"What do you say – we forget – the whole – Mustafar thing?" Vader managed to get out. His vocabulator may speak for him, making the verbal sounds, but his brain still formulated the thoughts that went to that vocabulator.
"That sounds like a perfectly wonderful idea to me." Obi-Wan slapped Vader on the shoulder in a brotherly manner. "Stupid fight, really. Do you care if it falls?"
Vader looked at him.
"The Empire. Do you care if it falls?" Obi-Wan asked again.
"Kriff – it!"
Obi-Wan hiccupped. "Good answer. Good answer."
"You've had one too many drinks, Master." The last word came out decisively slurred.
Before Obi-Wan could formulate an answer, the entrance to the cantina opened. Obi-Wan stared at the figure standing in the doorway.
It was Darth Vader.
The Jedi Knight shook his head. Maybe Vader was right – maybe he had had one drink too many. He forced his eyes to focus on the figure in the familiar black helmet, suit, and flowing cape.
"Hey! That guy's got my costume!" the second Vader called out as he flipped the front part of his helmet up. It was none other than the infamous holoactor Jeth Moranis – known for his tacky, bad humor films.
"What – of it?" Vader called out. "No one else – is allowed to – have this outfit!"
The holoactor snorted. "That's what you think, buddy. Now get out of here. This is my place."
"Not if – I own – Corellia." Vader stood up. His hand gripped the bar to steady him.
"Is that right." Moranis laughed.
Suddenly able to move, Vader stumbled over to the entrance to teach him a lesson. Obi-Wan watched for a second then faced the bartender, a bored expression on his face.
"Don't you think you should stop your friend or something? Before he does something rash?" the Bothan said.
"I gave up trying to do that years ago."
"Right…"
The Bothan turned his back on Obi-Wan and the ensuing brawl. The sound of a lightsaber igniting made him whirl around again.
"I really think you might want to tell him to put that thing away."
Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder. He shrugged. "Nah."
"Are you crazy? Wielding a lightsaber can get you shot on sight around here!"
"You don't get it, do you?"
Seeing that the Bothan clearly did not, obvious from the terrified expression on his face at the thought of what would happen if a legion of troops came into his cantina with blasters blazing, Obi-Wan decided to do something.
"OY! DARTH!"
Vader froze, red blade humming in his right hand.
"Get over here. Leave that guy alone or I'll have to go Mustafar on you again." Obi-Wan waved his own lightsaber hilt at the Sith Lord. He stared at it, trying to remember how to activate it. For a second he fumbled with it then gave up. "You know what I mean. Get over here."
Vader stumbled over to his seat next to Obi-Wan. The rest of the patrons stared at the two. Whispers were shared, that was Lord Vader and a Jedi was with him – a Jedi –
"I think it is time for you two to leave." The Bothan leaned close and spoke to them quietly.
"Fine…fine." Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at the furred alien. He picked his empty glass up and brought it to his mouth, hoping to get one last drop of the Solar Flare. "We wouldn't want CorSec to get involved now would we?"
He hiccupped again. Vader nodded his head in agreement; it looked like it was bobbing aimlessly more than executing an intended nod.
"C'mon, Vader. Let's get out of here."
He tugged on Vader's shouldet a couple times to get him to follow him. The walk across the cantina was a trying task. Beneath his feet, the floor swayed. Everywhere he looked, there were double images of all the objects and beings in the room. Eventually the two made it out to the street.
Obi-Wan leaned up his back up against the wall, his fingers trying to grip it.
"That was fun."
Vader only breathed in return.
"You really need to do something about that breathing. You should have someone check that out. It can't be good."
"Yeah…" Vader rasped. "Drinking – never helps."
"We haven't done this since…what, Naos III?"
"The only place – worse than – Tatooine."
Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. "Good thing I didn't settle there…."
The sight of a stormtrooper guard walking past them made him go silent.
"Let's get out of here." Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes. He looked to Vader in a sudden epiphany. "Wait. How can you drink?"
In response Vader shrugged. "I don't ask – those questions – anymore."
"I can see why…"
Feeling nervous about what would happen, Obi-Wan managed to peel himself away from the wall and hailed a taxispeeder. He and Vader managed to clamber into it and Obi-Wan stayed conscious long enough to tell the droid driver where to take them.
Everything blacked out at that moment.
After all, he was beyond the third Solar Flare point.
Obi-Wan woke up with a start. The dream. He put his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes.
What a nightmare. A night drinking with Darth Vader, or rather his former apprentice Anakin Skywalker. That was never going to happen. Obi-Wan shook his head to clear away the last memories of the dream.
Pain erupted in his head. In fact, his whole body felt as though it had been run over by a Star Destroyer, and not any Star Destroyer, but Vader's personal flagship – the Executor.
With a groan Obi-Wan reached out to the Force to ease the ache threatening to crack his skull in two. After a second he sat up.
And nearly screamed.
There was an Ewok in the bed with him.
Obi-Wan jumped out of the bed so fast that he entangled himself in the sheets. Furiously he struggled to extricate himself, and upon doing so, got another shock. On the other side of the Ewok lay Darth Vader, still asleep. Panicked, he realized that his dream had not been a dream at all. Thinking back, he could remember meeting Vader, having a couple drinks, something about a bar fight…
That was where things got fuzzy.
The Ewok woke up. It sat up, and seeing Obi-Wan awake, it turned to him. It chittered something in its native language.
Obi-Wan only stared at it.
In his mind the familiar jingle went, "One Solar Flare, two Solar Flare, three Solar Flare - floor!"