The Legend of the Sargent

Solving Gungan Conspiracies With A Hostage and A Bullet

0-9-0-0-90-9-0-0-0-0-90-9-0-9-0-9-9-0-9-0-09-0-09

Well... I have no excuses.

Hey everybody it's CARPBOY009 here! Finally back with another chapter!

This story had been waiting for an update for a year... a whole year, and I've just now got it posted. Seriously, my bad, give me whatever comments you want, I'll read them all no matter how much I get chastised or bullied.

I'm a dad. I've got a job. I owe a mortgage, I have to pay bills. I am playing the shit out of some video games that isn't halo, and watching movies and shows that aren't Star Wars. What can I say, nobody wants to do nothing but write on a story they got burnt out on.

I needed time to naturally recharge my interest in Star Wars and halo respectively. That is my tip to any writers out there. Don't force yourself to write if you're loosing interest. Simply take your time and explore other other interests, expand your taste.

Return when you feel up to it. Myself, I have several projects I have at once.

Ontop of my job and my family life, my personal time is either projects or rest. YouTube videos and editing said videos. Playing and writing a script on Pokemon Nuzelocks for YouTube. Have several house projects I do to keep maintained.

I'm also writing this along with a DND campaign and my personal "real" novel. I'm busy. On the plus side, I made this chapter long to make up a tiny bit.

But enough of all that, if you bothered to read any of this, thank you so much for commenting and reading/ re-reading this story. It does mean a lot knowing there are so many people who want to read this story.

With all that out of the way, I hope you have a great day or have a peaceful sleep tonight. And I will see you all later/

0-9-9-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-9-9-99-9-0-9–9-0-09-009

Sanity is what many could consider to be a fickle and frail thing. Others may consider it to be harder than the core of a star. Many living beings have mentalities and sense of wills that can be bent and broken with the smallest point of pressure. Many others have a sense of will that can never be broken. Their resolve more powerful then the toughest of fighters. More striking the the most precise sharpshooters. More durable than tanks.

Yet every single being will have their sense of will tested in more ways than one. The sight of their first dead body. The adrenaline of their first fight. The anxiety of a public performance or the courage to speak on another's behalf.

Many people have fallen under less pressure, many have broken under extremes. But all were tested. And once tested, those people will need a break. Time to relax and breath. Allow air to travel through their body slowly and allow their thoughts to slow as their hearts pump without adrenaline.

Johnson has wanted this vacation.

On leave for the next few days, the Republic General had needed this breather, though he had begrudgingly taken it. Upon his return with his Jedi companions several weeks ago, he had initially tried to push past his initial shell shock of what had transpired. What had him confused was that he thought the evens on... Mortis was all a dream.

But the Forerunner artifacts he had on him were the only indications it was not. The Jedi did not speak about it, nor did he bring it up. Perhaps it did happen and they were in denial. But no one commented on the lightsaber mark he had gotten on his chest plate, nor did he complain about his nerves being on the frits as if he were electrocuted.

Oddly enough that was the last thing he remembered before waking up on the shuttle.

He retired for a short time in a accommodated quarters provided by Admiral Yularen. He sat there and rested. Mainly spending his time 'studying' the forerunner tech he kept close to him the whole time.