"I DON'T KNOW. I WANT TO BE WITH YOU OR FORD, BUT I CAN'T DO BOTH... AND FORD'S FAMILY HATES ME. PLUS, THEIR UNIVERSE DOESN'T EXIST ANY MORE. AND ONCE I'M IN ONE UNIVERSE, MOVING ME BETWEEN THEM'S REAL HARD. IT'S NOT LIKE A HUMAN THAT CAN JUST JUMP THROUGH A RANDOM WORMHOLE, YOU HAVE TO REALLY TEAR SPACE-TIME A NEW ONE FOR ME TO FIT."
"Yeah, because it's real simple for the rest of us."
He shakes his head.
"My point, such as it is, is that I'm not asking you to get along just because it makes me happy or makes things easier. It's because, whether you actually care about them or not, you have to live here, with these people. In the future, you'll have to live with other people. And before I take you back to start a new government or whatever, I'd need to trust that you're not going to, I don't know, give sith lords weapons because you think it's funny."
"YEAH, BUT ON THE LARGER SCALE OF THINGS, I'M NOT DESTROYING THEIR RESOURCES LIKE FOOD, OR PUTTING HORRIBLE CURSES ON THEM, I TALK TO PEOPLE INSTEAD OF JUST TELLING THEM THE EXACT TIME AND DATE OF THEIR DEATH..."
"You have a point," he allows. "That's all... great. I mean, keep that up. In all honesty, I am proud of you. You've come a long way, and I'm glad that you're still so clearly... yourself."
He feels another of his Bill-induced headaches coming on.
"But it's my job to make sure you can get along, when you don't have the safeguards of the Barge anymore."
"Well. That still doesn't solve the original problem, which is how to reduce this type of mistake. I don't think you need constant supervision, but I don't know how to make sure you stop and think through your actions."
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Sounds bad.
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"What," Luke asks carefully, "do you plan to do once you get out of here?"
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"I DON'T KNOW. I WANT TO BE WITH YOU OR FORD, BUT I CAN'T DO BOTH... AND FORD'S FAMILY HATES ME. PLUS, THEIR UNIVERSE DOESN'T EXIST ANY MORE. AND ONCE I'M IN ONE UNIVERSE, MOVING ME BETWEEN THEM'S REAL HARD. IT'S NOT LIKE A HUMAN THAT CAN JUST JUMP THROUGH A RANDOM WORMHOLE, YOU HAVE TO REALLY TEAR SPACE-TIME A NEW ONE FOR ME TO FIT."
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"Yeah, because it's real simple for the rest of us."
He shakes his head.
"My point, such as it is, is that I'm not asking you to get along just because it makes me happy or makes things easier. It's because, whether you actually care about them or not, you have to live here, with these people. In the future, you'll have to live with other people. And before I take you back to start a new government or whatever, I'd need to trust that you're not going to, I don't know, give sith lords weapons because you think it's funny."
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Which is a larger underlying problem, isn't it.
"I THINK I'M COHABITATING WITH THEM WELL ENOUGH! I DON'T CAUSE MORE PROBLEMS THAN THE AVERAGE INMATE! ... THEY'RE JUST WEIRD PROBLEMS!"
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"You gave someone a weapon he used to kill two other people," he reminds Bill. "That's like, the opposite of cohabitating."
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He's ... trying! Kind of!
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"You have a point," he allows. "That's all... great. I mean, keep that up. In all honesty, I am proud of you. You've come a long way, and I'm glad that you're still so clearly... yourself."
He feels another of his Bill-induced headaches coming on.
"But it's my job to make sure you can get along, when you don't have the safeguards of the Barge anymore."
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Bill floats up to pat Luke on the back.
"YOU'RE DOING JUST FINE."
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"Well. That still doesn't solve the original problem, which is how to reduce this type of mistake. I don't think you need constant supervision, but I don't know how to make sure you stop and think through your actions."
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This is about as far as he can hope to get, and he knows it.
"Okay," he says. "Thank you. For talking about it with me. I know it's difficult."
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"Always, Bill. I know you'd do the same for me." He pauses. "And I'd wake up with like, dicks drawn on my face, but still."