Doctor Samuel Jackson, Ph.D, opened the wooden door, so old that it was like rock now. Stepping inside, his flashlight breaking through the darkness, his feet sinking into a thick layer of dust. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he felt like that he had been here before, in another time, another space, another life. He shivered. This building had appeared at the end of the city they had been digging up, just appeared the day they started packing up. The outside was newer seemed to be newer than the Mesopotamian buildings it was surrounded by, yet it felt older.

It looked like some sort of restaurant, or maybe even a bar by evidence of the counter. He shone the light over to the staircase, deciding it might have been an inn. His next stop, he almost dropped the flash light, a juke box. Samuel stepped over and blew the dust off it, the ancient buttons still worked as it flipped through the pages of music available inside, mostly 80s or heavy metal, but some more classic works worked in. The archeologist turned and started back towards the door, but it suddenly slammed shut, and the juke box came to life, the sound of violins, and then the crooning voice of Frank Sinatra eminating from the speakers.

“And now, the end is near; And so I face, the final curtain.”

The haunting melody continued forth as Samuel stepped further into the building, trying to find away out, the neon lights from the juke box and his flash light guiding him. Something moved in the darkness, and he jumped, pointing it at what used to be an oven. It gave a twitch and a growl, attempted to amble towards him, and then fell silent again. Shaking from the fright, he kept forward, his light pointing at a chair, not really impressive, but littered with pie pans and a sign, written in Dutch - A God I Am.

Shaking his head, the doctor kept forward, and came to another door, which crumbled after the years of disuse. Standing inside the room, which was actually a long hall way with a sign that read “To Atlantis,” was a box, a large blue box, with lights inside, and the door open a little. Shaking hand, he opened it, and stepped into a room that was much bigger than the box itself. He could still hear Sinatra’s voice in the background.

“Daniel.” A voice called out. “It’s been years, centuries even.”

“Wha? No, erm, I’m Samuel. Samuel Jackson.”

“Sounds the same. And if you add an L, you become a Jedi.” An unseen chuckle, wafted through the air. A chuckle that sounded like it took on a life of it’s own and flew off after years of being chained up. The voice itself sounded like centuries.

“Can you show yourself? I don’t like talking to what I can’t see.”

“Of course Da-Samuel.” A large leather chair he hadn’t noticed before moved, and something stood, wrapped in a long coat and a scarf that reached the floor after wrapping around his neck twice. It was a man, and despite the feel of his voice, he looked quite young, maybe 25 or so, except for his eyes; they shone with the wisdom of centuries, maybe millennia even. “I’m Charles Lamont, Last of the Lamonts, and Last of the Cantina.” He sighed, his reddish beard that hung down and was tucked into his belt heaved. “Gone they are, all gone.”

“Who?”

“My friends, my family, they were both.” Charles blinked. “I need to try again. I sat here for centuries trying to figure out how to go back, to alter my own time, to live in another dimension where I made another choice, Lep and I often talked about it. I have always believed there was only one me.” He shrugged and walked over to the large console in the middle of the room.

“Centuries?” Samuel looked around, the room was cluttered, but not laden with the dust of the rest of the building.

“Aye, I am over one million years old now…I reckon. You lose track of time when you are alone for a few hundred thousand years.” His eyes twinkled and he gave a wink. Despite his youth, he gave the presence of a grandfather Samuel had long ago. “But that is besides the point.” He grinned. “I’m about to erase all that, take another path, forget everything that ever happened to me since a specific point in time, and take the other road.”

Samuel was silent, thinking about this.

“I don’t want to remember being alone. I don’t want to be the last one. The TARDIS has tried to keep me alive all this time. She revealed it to me about ten thousand years ago.” He shrugged. “And now, I am going to use what I have, both her heart and soul, and my powers, to see their limit, to take me back, and possibly restart.” He gave a maniacal giggle. “To start down the road not taken.” He winked at Samuel again. “Now excuse me, it’s about time, I have to leave now.”

Samuel blinked as Charles climbed onto the console and raised his hands into the air, levitating, the console rising with him, bright light that made the sun look dull shone from under it, and items flying around Charles like he was the nucleus of an atom and everything else was the electrons. A deep sound surrounded the archeologist and engulfed him, the room around him fading away, and he stood in the room before, which also started to fade away into darkness.

Turning, Samuel clicked on his flashlight and turned about, finding himself in a cave, the entrance standing where the building entrance was. This, he decided, would never be mentioned to the others.

--

Data paced about the cantina, the others watching him, waiting for his plan, which was normally convoluted yet worked. “I have it!”

“Finally!” Zif almost shouted. “How do we go save her?”

“Simple, we all burst in and take out the mimes, thus saving Virvel.”

“Sounds good to me.” Krates cackled as he lifted his shotgun.

Data blinked softly, “They would all die.” He said deeply under his breath, his mind seeming to fight inside. “I changed my mind.” A groan. “I go in alone, with only a stealth belt, and get her out. If you all die, it’s over, I’ll be alone again, which is why I did this.”

Kip gave the spinning finger around the head sign and Lep nodded. Data blinked again and nodded. “Alright, I’m alright. I’ll go in alone, save her, and then we can have a party. Zif, order the drinks, I’ll be back in two shakes.” He grinned and vanished.

Deep in Data’s mind, Charles Lamont of a millennia years sighed in comfort as he started to fade, his work was done, and now another dimension, and hopefully, a better one.