The Confessional

Part Four:

197S9.9.02

It has been exactly one week since I showed up here at this revolting place as I was ordered by my former commanders. I suppose I am now a fully acknowledged member of this irregular force. Since I have an orderly mind, I shall take this short time before the other three of my team stir to make a few notes to mark the passing of a distinct measurable period of time. Note to self: find a secure way to continue this journal once I am in the close quarters of a ship or tent.

This group of four has come together better than I had expected before yesterday and my talk with Gippal. It is true that Baralai is still as reticent as an old corpse but I expect his lover to assure him I will not bite him, so that should straighten itself out in short order. I have no desire to harm the pretty boy and am anticipating judging his fighting abilities when we go the the Highway and test our marksmanship this afternoon.

I confess to misjudging Gippal. He is less arrogant than I had thought and more confident in his own skills. There is no harm in a man being secure in his talents. I am that way inclined myself. The Al Bhed certainly proved his words in the work he did on my leg yesterday. He is to check out the arm this morning and that should make me fit for duty for quite a while. Also, I have decided his attachment to Baralai will make him fight harder in order to keep his leman safe and alive. I will therefore have only Paine to protect – if Gippal proves to be as good a marksman as he claims. We shall see. This afternoon.

Since Paine has so good an eye in swordplay, I do not doubt she can transfer to shooting with relative little difficulty. That woman is a problem. Not as a team member, but to me personally. I do not understand why I am unable to set the thought of her aside. Maybe once I have had her, I can forget her. That's the way it usually works. I was celibate for months before my injuries and now for months since. It has been more than a year since ... Absurd! There she goes, interrupting my thoughts again.

It has been a week since I became a part of this venture and I now have a team assembled which may be able to preserve itself at least through training. I wish I could still use my sword but no use regretting what is past. There is a future, however short, to be dealt with and there is where my attention must lie.

I cannot find a way to reverse the recording and erase parts of this journal. Gippal would probably know how but I can't ask him. Better just to keep it hidden. If I ever have to use it in court, I'll worry about it then and if it is used as evidence of malfeasance on the part of our leaders after my death – it won't matter to me.

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To continue – the only one of the team I have not established some sort of understanding with is Baralai. I need to remedy that before we ship out. However, it occurs to me a youngster of such tender ... one so physically appealing must have experienced certain ... may mistake my concern for his well-being for something else. There he lies, drooling on his pillow again. That combination of glowing skin and cottony hair is unique and beautiful. I get a sudden mental image of him thrashing his amber legs in the air and squealing his pleasure ... Why am I thinking that? His legs waving past my ears? I never used to have such pictures in my mind before I was broken. Did they rewire my brain as well as my body? This is not acceptable! I am not so much the slave of my impulses and I know perfectly well how to discipline my thoughts. ... The day will be a busy one. I must wash and prepare for my duties. I am glad the pool is cold.

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There is no doubt the Al Bhed is as proficient in working with machina as he claimed. He has cleaned and adjusted the arm as well as he did the leg. The hand closes with such precision now I think I could catch a webfly unharmed. And crush a stone. He peeled back the synthetic skin which covers the shoulder area as though it were the most natural thing in the world to have skin that comes off like a shirt. This was the first time I have exposed my body to another's eyes since I left the hospital. He seemed to take no notice of the condition of the flesh he probed. I am glad he treats my protheses and my injuries with such coolness. I feel I am little more than an adjunct to the machina in his opinion. This is as I would have it be.

Gippal carries a pouch of tools secreted somewhere in his clothing and seems to have everything he needs quickly to hand. He not only checked and lubricated the working parts of the arm, he carefully examined the places where the mechanical is connected to the living. I must have inadvertently flinched occasionally because I could hear him mutter a quick apology from time to time. He did not remark on the scarring which is so grotesque to my eyes. That is probably because he is oblivious to anything but the task at hand. I don't think Paine or Baralai would be so sanguine. ... Now I am as ready for the next stage of this misconceived project as I am likely to be and here – for the record – I formally commend Gippal the one-eyed Al Bhed for his excellent service on my behalf. Hmmm.

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It is late and the efforts of this long day are past. In fact, it will be tomorrow very soon. I shall try to summarize the events of the past hours as tersely as is consistent with clarity and completion.

I gave the others another lesson on packing and stowing equipment. They are becoming reasonably proficient at assembling supplies in a way which will permit them to carry the necessaries in an efficient manner. Paine is capable of carrying as much as any of us men. Her thin body conceals a surprising amount of muscle. This will be helpful since in addition to her normal load, she will have to carry the recording device and a supply of spheres.

Gippal led the way to the improvised firing range he had build in order to teach Baralai to shoot. It is cleverly located in a dead end canyon off the main Highway, concealed from observers by the overhanging cliffs. Well chosen. My admiration for his useful skills appreciates apace.

It turns out that Baralai can handle his weapon with far greater ease than I had thought likely. He must be a quick learner – or Gippal an extraordinary teacher – to have mastered so much so quickly. He will certainly do as a Warrior if he can keep his eyes off Gippal and on the enemy. He is still doing the admiring gaze thing no matter what the exercise. I really must do my duty as leader and talk to him about a number of things.

Gippal shoots uncommonly well. Far better than I. But then, I am a swordsman by training and choice, only lately come to this inferior weapon and its use. I shall put in some more time practicing in private. The Al Bhed has lived up to all his boasts so far. He is also becoming more tractable. I wonder if it is because of his relationship with the other? That may be taking the brittle edge off his behavior. If so, I shall do nothing to hinder it. I am beginning to understand this small team and will be able to train it more precisely when the time comes.

Paine is another new to the gun. She is doing well enough although not nearly so well as she did in the mock sword-play we engaged in. I have asked Gippal to give her some lessons. She is so much brighter and more talented than Baralai, a day or two should see her up to par.

All in all, I am not discontented with what I saw today at the range. For all our external problems, this team is almost certainly one of the best of the bedraggled lots assembled by the Maesters.

Just before we left for our excursion to the range, a message came that the nature of the training we are about to undergo is to select individuals qualified for what the Maesters are now calling The Crimson Squad, which is the pompous name they have selected for the cadre of officers who will eventually become the new leaders of the forlorn Crusaders. It is the usual dreck from the military brass – give a project a resounding name and the job is done. Feh!

As I said, it is late and there is much more on my mind. I think I shall omit it for it is of a personal nature and has no place in this record of historical events.

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I am wrong. This is not only an historical record; I have proved that with the whining self-pitying entries I have already made. In a sense, my willingness to put in those events which do not reflect well on me is a guarantee of my honesty throughout. Although no one who has ever known me would question my honour and honesty. I am noted (and sometimes mocked) for my refusal to lie.

I am trying to put off relating the events of the last of the day. I don't know why I am reluctant to do so, they do not shame anyone and they are not of the dishonorable sort. They were the natural culmination of what had preceded them and in no way reprehensible. In spite of the observable fact that nearly half of me is machina, I am human in the ways and parts that count. In spite of my trained control of my body and emotions, I do feel. In spite of the reputation I have garnered and cultivated for cynical indifference to the common needs of a man, I can lust.

I lay with Paine last night. After the trip to the Highway, we four returned here to the small camp I have established. When I had seen the others safely back, I retired to the pool I thought I alone knew to wash away the dust and sweat of the long hike. I was bathed and just stepping from the water when I saw a white shape moving among the bushes around the pool. Paine! As naked as I!

She came to me in the moonlight where there was no concealment and knelt before me. We did not speak. After a while, I lay down on the grass and took her in my arms, being so careful not to hurt her. When I entered her, it was as if I was warm for the first time since my encounter with the Sin spawn. I was completed again, once again a whole man.

Paine is cool to the touch, her skin like the inside of a shell – white with a blush of rose. She is smooth and firm; I can trace the exact line of her muscles and explore the subtlety of her bones. She has small breasts and a mouth filled with honey. She is perfection.

I had expected the act to relieve me of the desire, but it has made me hungrier for her than I was before. She arouses the very appetite she feeds. I saw no disgust in her face when she looked at my body, not even when she ran her fingers down the worst of the scarring. There was a tenderness in her touch which healed more than all the medical spells of the Mages. We lay quietly for a long time afterwards, in fact, I cannot remember either of us saying a single word. It was like a dream, a fantasy, a journey outside the body into the universal spirit.

I would think it had been a dream were it not for her scent lingering on my hand and body. I could not bear to wash it away.

Jun 6, 20055181296