A man walks into a bar like some silly old joke. The smell of mold on the walls filled the air, this place had seen better days. Memories passed the mind of days when this corner of the universe was packed wall to wall. Over there at that rusted old table he challenges a master to a dual as an apprentice. Other in that corner he got into a fight with Jenobi. Over there he found what he thought was his first love. Then came his second love over there the same spot he drank himself into a stupor when he realized he was alone in the galaxy.
The solitary rogue walked up to the bar the old stole where he had his face busted across by one of his many angry masters. He rubbed the dent his thick skull made in the wooden bar top. He looked to where the bartender used to stand now some old crappy droid stared back at him. He reached up point at dusty old bottle in the very back of the shelf. “Are you sure…” Said the droid “No one drinks that stuff.”
A long time ago a crew did and they swore for life but life is short and they where all pretty much gone now. Only He seemed to remain, the last one standing in an empire he both loved and hated through out his life. “Yes.” He answered to the droid. If a droid could give dirty looks it sure was passing on the old sith. The droid grabbed the old dusty bottle and began to pour glass but instead Blade yank from him. “I will take the bottle.” He bit the cork from the top of the bottle and took a swig. As the whiskey hit his lips and slid down the back of his throat coating it with the burn his memory began to wander.
In his vision he saw a blonde man a former master, villain, and most of all family handing him the bottle. Time is the one war no one could win, all things rust, mold, and crumble. He just stood there sipping off his bottle remembering what was.