before we begin reading I feel the need to say that I am sorry for the wait, I unfortunately have had Bronchitis and have been sick since the fifth of november.

sincerely Noruas

Chapter 6

The battle spanned out before him again, but it was different this time. Instead of the armour Jedi knights that he was slaying, he saw only the faces of scared and dying children, contorted in pain like he had never seen before. The sight made his stomach crawl; granted he had slain countless enemies on the field of battle before, yet those were the enemy. They were trained and ready to die for their cause. He was merely a facilitator of the Force's will. Now he was wading through a battle of kids. Each step carrying a swing that claimed another three or four children. This was wrong. This wasn't who he was. He was Jorge Telmarvak, a proud and talented warrior not some monster that slew armies of children. It was wrong on both a moral and a realistic task. Such a task was so far beneath him. His ears were ringing with their cries. It needed to stop. Emboldened by his yearning for silence, he abandoned the lightsaber and chose to rely on the force. With a wave of his hands lightning rolled across the field and killed every child within a hundred yards of him. And the crying did not cease, in fact it only got worse. It was louder and higher until all he could do was lay there in pain. He needed to escape this but he couldn't. He was searching for anything, as he was now lost in a vast sea of nothingness but the crying still held. He was reaching for his lightsaber; to try and find some comfort. He couldn't. It was unimaginable and unending. Until finally it all went black.

Suzail was about to ask the Jedi what she was doing in the door to Jorge's room when she saw it too. He was asleep but clearly in pain. The way he was curled in on himself-like he was trying to squeeze himself out of being-disturbed them both. Here was the most dangerous person they both knew, and he was completely defenseless and hurting. Suzail did not notice that she was moving until she was kneeling at his bedside. Before she could think she was shaking him trying to awaken him from whatever horror had seized him. Then in less time than it took her clear the distance of the room, she was thrown back out of it by a force she hadn't felt since her time in the war. It was THE Force she was thrown by. After she landed out side she was going to cuss out and kill the Jedi brat that had thrown her when she saw the Jedi on the ground with head lined up to be severed by the emergency airlock door. The door that Jorge had just used the force to activate. She closed her eyes to avoid seeing the Jedi's head be removed from her shoulders in time to hear a sickening popping sound. She opened her eyes, not sure what to expect. She saw Jorge standing there holding the door open with his shoulder, and by the angle it was at it appeared to be dislocated. With a rage fueled growl he surged forward and slammed the door back into it's locked open state. Once the door was secured into place he staggered backward and collapsed onto his bed. It didn't need to be said but it was known that if he were any ordinary man the Jedi would be dead right now. They both rose to their feet and began to question what happened before they both figured it out on their own. Jorge had, in the brief time where he was between dreaming and awake, attacked them after perceiving them as threats. They had both heard of men like this, but had never actually seen them. When their gaze reaffixed on Jorge they saw a broken man; a man was vexed by such horrors even in his dreams that friends appeared as foes.

"I don't need or want your pity. Just...never do that again, alright?" For a moment, they both wondered how he could have known what they were feeling, when the Jedi quietly whispered in her ear that he felt it in the Force. And with that, she went over to sit beside him and attempt to stabilize the clearly unstable thoughts that he was still trying to sort out: dream from memory. As she reached out to touch him, he shuddered and slightly lurched away before saying, "Sorry. I just, don't think you should be near me right now. The robes...they are really throwing me off." She took this news rather well, and calmly walked out making sure to ask to borrow some of Suzail's clothes in case this ever happened again.

A few minutes after the Jedi left Suzail went to leave as well, as she had deemed that Jorge had pieced together a rational understanding of reality again and would want her to leave him in peace. When she turned to leave she heard he speak.

"Wait," he said, "Please don't leave me." Shocked by the request though she was, she still obliged it and as she began to remove her armour to prepare for bed she had to fight her instinctive urge to make a joke about how far he would go to get her in bed with him. No, that would not be helpful right now. He needed companionship and comfort, and he trusted her for both. While she was removing one of her pauldrons she heard a sickening pop and turned to see Jorge standing there, holding his right arm in his left hand with a look of great discomfort on his face. He had justy relocated his own shoulder. She had been planning on doing that for him, but he never gave her the chance. As he laid down on his cot she climbed in and curled up on his left side making deliberate effort to avoid his recently dislocated right shoulder. After they had laid there for a few minutes, she noticed that his left foot was twitching. He only did that on the rare occasion that he was exceptionally afraid for her. She had only seen it twice. Once the night after he found out about Kletch and the water bottle. And once when he held her while she was crying after Kletch almost killed her. Knowing that he was especially scared if he was doing that, she instantly held him tighter. This wasn't the first time they had slept together since their months on Dromund Kaas, yet it felt like it was the most important time.

She was running, and running, and running, and running. After what happened with Kletch she never stopped looking for any potential threats. So when a few arrogant but dangerous looking Sith warriors came looking around the hidden entrance of the alley that Jorge used to sneak food in and to sneak himself out each day, she ran. It was a dumpster that had been moved up against the wall of an abandoned building that made up the back wall of the alley. The dumpster was moved to cover a small hole that Jorge could squeeze through and drag a bag full of food through as well. The fact that she saw them was due only to the fact that Jorge had set up a system of mirrors so that she could see anyone approaching while she was still hidden inside the alley. Once she saw them begin to inspect the Dumpster and get ready to move it aside to gain access to the main alley she ran. She did as Jorge told her to and ran. She wouldn't see him again for another eight years.

After those eight years she found herself oddly enough running again. Though this time she was not running from anyone. Now she was running to a friendly unit simply call signed: the engine of change. This was most likely chosen, as they were- in their own eyes-the engine of change forcing the galaxy into the future. A future where the power was with those who derived it from within themselves, not those who bought it like the scum of the Republic. She was proud to be a commando in the Great Sith Army; she had a roof over her head; a constant source of battle (although that only became a factor when she learned of her heritage with the mandalorian clan Fett), and she was almost always fed. To say that it was a step up from where she used to be, living alone on the streets of Dromund Kaas just waiting to die, would be a understatement.

So she ran, she ran. Once she reached the unit that she was supposed to be reinforcing, she saw that this battle was already over; there was no chance that she could turn the tide of this battle. Before she could radio into command and tell them the battle was lost she saw him. He charged into battle wielding not a lightsaber or a blaster but instead a literal sword and shield...though the shield seemed to have some manner of cannon built into it and he had an old thirteen shot rotary magazine fed slugthrower carbine strapped to his belt. This was unique, even among slugthrowers, since the average person at a glance would think it was a revolving cylinder that held the rounds. However it was in fact a slugthrower with a rotary magazine which meant that it had a much higher ammo capacity than a standard revolver ever could. He never had the chance to use it though, for as soon as his sword fell upon the first Republic soldier's skull, the entire Sith force seemed to pulse with new life. A resurgence of this size could only mean that this was the plan the whole time, and that she was sent in only to keep up the facade in case the Republic dogs had managed to crack the encrypted transmissions system. Her thoughts were taken back to the battle at hand, when she saw the new warrior cut down three more Republic soldiers as though they were merely blades of grass. The sight had to be, without even the slightest hint of doubt, one of the most charismatic things she had ever seen. He seemed so graceful as if he could even be dancing, and his every step would emanate confidence and control. She decided then that she would make a fact of meeting this man after the fighting was done. And done the fighting soon was, with the timely arrival of the unknown warrior and the new found vigor of his troops, the Republic force was completely eradicated.

As she approached the unknown warrior who had turned the tide of the battle in the favor of the Sith Empire the unthinkable happened. He turned to her, cocked his head to the side in thought, and removed this helmet. Her breath was ripped from her chest as she saw him. Jorge Telmarvak stood before her, and in less time than it took her her to form a single sentence, he spoke to her in a voice that was at least three times as deep as when last they spoke.

"Suzail," he said. She meant to respond, she really did but when she went to answer him 8 years worth of worry fell off her shoulders as even more long buried emotions of love and happiness fell upon her. Finding that no words would truly describe the way she felt, she opted to merely throw herself into his arms to see what would happen. Much to her pleasure, his arms seemed to wrap around her just as they did on Dromund Kaas. After they had been standing like that for a moment, she heard one of the men yell something about how that girl the colonel always talked about was not only real, but she was here. Before she could respond Jorge had fluidly swept her off of her feet a carried her bridal style off to his tent. She would never forget what happened in that tent. She counted them as some of her happiest memories.