Dooku stood and pulled his bar stool closer, scanning the bar warily before lowering his voice.

"I have considered your offer," he began, his choice of words causing a noticeable shift in the bar's atmosphere. Conversations dwindled, and it seemed like everyone was now fully attentive.

The count's actions were practically a signal for secrecy, and in a place like this, secrets were like magnets for shady characters and wannabe clowns to eavesdrop. Just by pulling his chair closer and speaking in a hushed tone, he had set almost all the patrons on alert, even the bartender had drawn closer, and was now pretending to wipe the already pristine counter near us.

"You know, I hardly think this is the place for that kind of conversation, my friend. But if you must, just speak up and spare our friends here from the struggle,"

I said, patting Dooku's shoulder while shooting the bartender a meaningful look and scanning the other customers.

My words seemed to catch them by surprise; almost everyone briefly glanced at me before averting their gaze.

Honestly, though, I didn't see what they stood to gain by listening in. Most likely, they wouldn't understand a word Dooku said, and even if they did, I hadn't shared anything about my deep plans with him.

The count glanced across the bar before continuing in the same hushed voice, "I am willing to take you on as an apprentice…"

"Smart move," I interjected, staring at the count. I could sense a 'but' coming.

His eyes remained fixed on me as if we were both trying to read each other's thoughts.

"But… I have a condition," he stated with finality, indicating no room for negotiation.

I took a deep sigh and finished the remaining whisky in my glass. The bartender automatically refilled it without me even asking, perhaps it was the price for eavesdropping.

"Thanks," I nodded, and the guy began to diligently wipe the tiny drops that had spilled.

"I'm afraid you're in no position to 'have conditions' here," I pointed out, turning towards Dooku, who was taking his first sip of whisky.

The count shut his eyes and flinched as the warmth of the whisky burned down his throat.

"See… I told you it's better than the crap they serve you in Star Wars."

if there was one thing DC had better than the galaxy far away, it had to be this and maybe... democracy

When his eyes finally opened, there was no sign of whether he was impressed or not, but I knew it was hard for anyone from his universe not to be.

what came out of his mouth however wasn't a thank you!

"Listen to me, boy," Dooku yelled, his suppressed anger breaking free.

"I am trying to reason here… Do you think I was just idling around before you pulled me away from my world and brought me to this filthy place?"

The bartender and several other customers suddenly threw weird look our way, I almost laughed at the astounded expressions.

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Gotham was full of weirdos, and DC had no shortage of superheroes, but a guy who could pull people out of their worlds? That was news, even in a place as bizarre as Gotham. And that news, I was sure, would spread like wildfire through Gotham before sunset tomorrow.

"Let me see," I turned back to my companion, who was taking another sip from his glass.

"You must have been marshaling the Rebel Alliance as per Palpatine's plans," I continued casually, watching Ndoku freeze mid-sip and throw another look that seemed to scream 'How the hell does he know that?' It gave me satisfaction to see him squirm.

"And probably something about the clone army, training Asajj Ventress as you prepare to murder your master… So yes, I would say I know exactly what you were doing, Count."

The mention of the Clone Army, master, and murder were all the ingredients the conversation needed to turn from good to smoking hot. Now everyone's attention was on us, and they didn't even bother to hide it.

The count's eyes shifted from awe to a resigned realization as he began to comprehend his tough bargaining position. But then, just as quickly, that helpless look vanished.

He pushed the empty glass towards the bartender, who refilled it. Without missing a beat, Dooku gulped down the entire glass and pushed it back. The bartender refilled it again, without even looking at the man he was serving.

By the fifth time, the bartender gave me a wary look.

dooku was getting drunk, and I realized, too late, that a drunk ex-Jedi Master was not good for anyone, especially not for me.

I shook my head discreetly, and the bartender withdrew the bottle. "You've had enough for the night, sir," he said.

Ndoku stared at the guy as if he was about to murder him right there and then.

I was about to step in when the doors were violently pushed open, and an assortment of people barged in.

Immediately the previous calm atmosphere in the bar died even further.

These newcomers were trouble, and it was evident from their appearance.

The patrons who had previously been keen on our conversation suddenly tensed up. It wasn't hard to figure out the cause of the change in mood; their colorful costumes and painted faces screamed trouble.

They were Joker's clowns, or at least, that's what they were pretending to be. There was no real way of telling; Joker was the mastermind behind most crimes in Gotham, and other petty criminals would undoubtedly use this guise to execute their crimes, it made their lives easier.

The trouble was, even if you had reasonable doubts about whether they were Joker or not, nobody had the guts to stand against them and find out. Mostly because if you were somehow wrong and they worked for Joker, well, you would undoubtedly end up as one of his experiments as he tried to break Batman.

Speaking of Batman, I watched as the clown thugs began to move from table to table, most of them brandishing their guns on their shoulders, even though none of the customers gave them a hard time.

Wasn't this where the Dark Knight came into play? Would he show up? I mean dude had sworn his work was to fight crime in Gotham.

Well, maybe this wasn't a big enough crime to warrant his attention, but still...

I realized I was holding my breath just thinking he would show up. It wasn't because I was a big fan of Bats… nah… Batman was on the list of people I just didn't like. Nothing personal, just that his principles were a bit far-fetched, bordering on hypocrisy.

Between him and the Joker, they were certainly responsible for endless destruction and loss of life in the trodden city(not that I cared). The difference was that while the Joker owned and even enjoyed what he did, Batman hid behind a wall of excuses for wanting to do good and averting crimes.(that,..I cared)

The clowns were now drawing closer and closer to the counter where we sat, frisking and taking anything they wished. From the resigned faces of most of the bar patrons, it was clear they were so used to this that probably no one brought anything of value to the bar.

My hands wanted to reach for the inner pockets of the winter coat where the Sith mask and the whip were stashed, but I held back that impulse. That would be a dead giveaway. But then I realized I had a decision to make. Seeing the way the goons were frisking the other customers, it was obvious they wouldn't miss the mask once it was my turn.

So now it was either I wear the damn thing before they reached me and give my true identity away, or…

I turned to Dooku, an idea forming in my mind.

Perhaps it wasn't too late to strike a bargain with the count yet.

The plan however flew out of my head as soon as I laid my eyes on him. The guy was the only one oblivious to what was going on around him. He had pushed the glass aside and was now clutching the entire whisky bottle in his hand.

I was screwed.