The Minute of Decay (Open if you like)

[Garrett Blade]

Bespin.

Why the hell had Garrett come to Bespin? Was it to meet somebody? Who? Did he owe somebody money? Nah, thats not it. If Garrett owed somebody money he'd probably steal some more off them before doing anything remotely like paying them back. Did he come to cause a fuss? Probably. But that wasn't specific enough to jog his memory. Was he on the run? Actually change that. Was he not on the run! Hah! Funny! That'll be the day. Regardless, for some reason or another, Garrett had come to Bespin to spend a few days on Cloud City. More specifically, the Corellian district of Cloud City. Only the lowest of the low went to the Corellian district. So maybe there was a specific place in the Corellian district for Garrett to go to? Who knows? Who cares? The landing was pretty bad - but then again, landing on top of a married couple making out isn't going to be a pretty picture to many, now is it? Not to you maybe - but if Garrett had been carrying a canvas and palette...

After he'd finished laughing, Garrett looked around. There was a junkie on the corner talking to a whore. Scum. People like that should be burned at the stake. They were a menace to society. Didn't deserve to live. They were still screaming for a full seven seconds after their heads had been ripped off. Garrett's first thought was to make a set of bongo's out of them but decided the sound would have been awful. After washing his hands of the blood in a pool of dirty water, Garrett strolled along the alley way. He didn't care to take note of what alley it was - he wasn't coming back for the ship. It wasn't his. Something had been weighing heavily on Garrett's mind since he left Corellia three days ago. He needed a drink. There was a good cantina just up the road, but the bartender wasn't worth the time of day. he treated everybody like they were bantha fodder, disrespectful to any and all who he met. How could people be like that, what with Jedi around to right the wrongs of other, less-enlightened people?

As he turned the corner onto the main street, Garrett was almost hit by a blaster bolt. But it wasn't intended for him. The girl dropped like a fly. She lay there. On the steps to the brothel. Her limp body fell slightly onto the bottom step but remained there. Her head was tilted backwards on the floor. Her mouth and eyes open wide and lifeless. There was a tear in the mans eye. He loved his sister. That's why he did it. Thats why Garrett killed him. Because he loved her.

Standing outside the cantina ten minutes later, Garrett lit up a cigarra. A lung disease would be a blessing in disguise. As he inhaled, a death parade drove past. Maybe Garrett knew the deceased. Perhaps he would pay a visit some time later. Happy hour was over in a few more minutes, so Garrett waited a little longer. He looked up out of the darkness. It was so much brighter on the upper levels of the city. He could just make out the light on the horizon above the Jedi embassy.

Now he remembered.

[Slayn Rainyer]

Yes... It seems those who are " enlightened " always have a better view.

* Slayn spoke to the man as if he knew him. Stare up at the jedi embassy and added. In the manner of mocking. *

So of cores they try to show you there way... Personaly I'd see it better if they weren't always in my way.

* He walked off and entered the cantina befor the man could reply. He walk to the bar and had a seat. *

[Garrett Blade]

Out of sight, out of mind. Garrett noticed a Gnarrat crawling near the corner of the street. Suddenly, a street dog crept up behind and ate it. How crude. Garrett stretched out with his feelings. There were a large number of Gnarrats below the street, and there was an access grid three feet away from the dog. After a brief conversation, the grid slid open very sloowly until it was sixteen inches wide. A swarm of Gnarrats gushed out of the sewer and overwhelmed the dog. Poetic justice at it's best. Garrett flung the cigarra over the street, landing on a pile of wooden boxes. He smiled to himself before entering the ugly cantina.

Walking through the wafts of smoke and hurls of abuse from one side to the other, Garrett made his way to a booth near the back of the cantina. It was much quieter than by the bar. He could see the bartender, as impolite as ever, washing empty glasses with his dirty cloth. He was not too far from the kitchen entrance, and could see right through to the open back door. A draft was coming through. Two pauper children appeared by the back door. Horrid little creatures, blackened faces, diseased eyes, rotten, teared clothes. They held out their hands for something to eat. The chef - if one could call him such a thing - walked over with a bowl of leftovers, but changed his mind upon eye contact with Garrett. Instead, he booted each child in the stomach before slamming the door shut in their faces.

The man from outside was sitting at the bar. he hadn't looked around at Garrett since he walked in. He was undoubtedly a force user. How could he know what Garrett was thinking before had he not been? And why did he even bother to speak to him. Who'd want to be polite in such a miserable world of experience. Garrett picked up the ashtray from his table and walked over to the bar. He sat dwn on a free stool, four away from the man. Separating them was a pair of Barabels, a Trandoshan and a Twi'Lekk prostitute. Garrett hurled the ashtray at the alcohol cabinet on the back wall of the bar, smashing three bottles of Lum and knocking a barrel of Socorran Raava onto the floor but not spilling any. The bartender turned to Garrett with an enraged look on his face. Garrett immitated the expression...

"I've been waiting for a drink for ten minutes now! Socorran Raava, now! Make it a double!"

The bartender, a 6-foot tall Duro, relaxed in his aggressive stance, and poured Garrett's drink. Taking a swig of the alcohol, Garrett spoke again, this time addressing those sitting at the bar...

"Anybody know where I might be able to aquire three hundred pounds of detonite?"