Somewhere outside of time and space, there is a bar.
At the bar is a boy, about fourteen years old, dressed in earth-toned homespun robes and with a braid hanging down beside his right ear. He's currently attempting to convince the bar to sell him alcohol.
"You know I'm over the drinking age on twenty different Republic planets, right? I've had alcohol before."
The bar is gently insisting via napkin that, since he is not over the drinking age on the planet where his door is located, it would be irresponsible of her to sell him an alcoholic beverage.