Third Strike

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

Raphael kept his head low, looking at his boots.

“I need your help, Father, I have no idea what I should do. I feel as if I’m making another mistake.”

He sighs, sitting back on the stone chair, his head back looking at the sky.

“Loyalty is very important to me, Father. I pride myself on being there for people through thick and thin. Being someone you can depend on."

He sits upright.

"Take this for example. I went on a reconnaissance mission with another Praetorian into the unknown. Right in the middle of an engagement with the 'sleepers,' some enterprising outlaw finds us a nice target. Disrupting the warp drive of my comrade in an Abaddon, he traps him. My Prophecy-class battlecruiser cannot withstand the withering fire of the sleepers and his heavy interdictor, and I have to warp off."

He says the next part slowly, emphasizing.

"But I don't run away."

"I continue to come back, even as my ship melts and I almost lose it. I was not going to leave that pilot there to die. He was another Praetorian, a wingmate. Our communications were text only, I have no idea who he is, but I'm not going to leave him. Eventually, we are able to scare the interdictor off, and we escape."

His tone changes.

"However, I’ve made my mistakes. Committed my…betrayals.”

He sits in silence for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts.

“The first one, of course, was Gabriel. He still doesn’t know that it was an accident, but that it was me. He’s still one of my greatest friends, and I haven’t told him. I wouldn’t know where to begin telling him. I didn’t tell him before because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. How could I possibly tell him now? I can’t even forgive myself for it, how could I expect him to? I still work with the guilt.”

He shifts uncomfortably on the chair.

“The second was Nephanie. I betrayed her trust in me in a moment of weakness. I betrayed the relationship we had. Now that she’s dead, I have no chance for atonement. She forgave me but like a fool I never forgave myself, keeping me from her, and I feel responsible for her death.”

He puts his hand over his eye and drags it downward, wiping his face.

“I continue to sin against her to this day, betraying her over and over.”

Raphael reaches down and palms his flask through the lining of his pocket, lingering for a second before deciding against it and dropping his hand.

“The third….well I was all wrong about the third.”

He shakes his head.

“I had thought I was going to betray an old friend…but I betrayed a new one. We had just become friends as well, after a long history of animosity, we reached a concord. However…”

He sighs heavily, a frown forming on his face.

“…now I feel as if there is no hope. That there will never be a friendship now.”

He shifts uncomfortably again.

“The accusation I made…it was a serious one. I don’t expect her to forgive me; I don’t think I’ll forgive me.”

Raphael frowns, remembering what happened.

“I mean, it seemed like that was what was going on. Her history of trouble, her strange behavior recently, the friends” he spits this last word out, “she keeps. She keeps plenty of less-than-desirable company.”

He groans, frustrated.

“She dragged me to this godforsaken station on the edge of civilization the other day. To my chagrin, it’s infested with reds. She had a grand time conversing with them, and seeing me absolutely miserable in their presence.”
He bangs his fist on the wall in frustration.

“There was even this damn Matari outlaw who thought he’d play at being a gentleman and telling me to leave, just because I was asking Shalee to leave the place. If I hadn’t had my weapons confiscated and things had gone just a bit more poorly, God knows what would have happened.”

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down.

“I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t I just leave Shalee there to rot with her no good friends? Well, I had to stay. I’ve been ordered to keep track of her, to make sure she stays safe. It was that same night that I betrayed her, accused her of being a spy, that I was ordered to stay by her side. This will either give me a chance to atone, or rend us apart forever.”

His face grows sour.

“I find myself beginning to hate the Commander.”

Raphael runs his fingers through his hair. After a few seconds he continues.

“It seems I’m only increasing my debt, instead of working it off as I had hoped. I still believe the Praetoria is my best chance to serve. My best chance at redeeming myself in God’s eyes.”

He sits back in the chair, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Thank God I became a capsuleer before starting to repay my debt. I think if I hadn’t, I would have been delivered into his hands long before I felt worthy.”

He stands up and makes his way over to the door, stopping for a moment before moving on.

“It’s a good thing I have forever now, Father. I think that’s how long it’s going to take.”

Second Chance

Taking his usual seat, Raphael makes a sign of blessing over himself before speaking.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

He sighs slightly before continuing.

“This can be so hard sometimes. Lying yourself out, letting someone see everything. I guess that’s why I chose you, Father. I know I can speak in complete confidence, and I have a feeling you don’t judge me one bit."

He pauses momentarily before continuing.

“It’s not going as fast as I had hoped. I fear I may be working off my debt for eternity.”

He pauses to reach for his flask, but hesitates, and ultimately leaves it in his pocket.

“Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it. I don’t enjoy the failure I sometimes see, but that cannot be helped. Only God is perfect, and we just stumble along, hoping to reach as close to perfection as we can, but it will forever be out of our reach.”

He lets out a single laugh.

“Such is the fate of man. Second Best.”

Raphael smiles.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care to be the best. Too much pressure. I just want to serve my time, do my part. I believe myself to be a righteous man. I say my prayers, offer my assets, and now, my life. I hope God finds me a suitable servant.”

He goes silent for a moment, before letting out a small laugh.

“When you saw me walk in here, Father, did you know I was so troubled?”

Raphael sits in silence.

“Your silence says it all. It is true, I carry my burdens, but who has none to bear? Even the nobles see their own share of troubles, I reckon. Perhaps not much, but hopefully enough to keep them occupied. I just don’t let them affect my work.”

He pauses for a second, considering.

“Actually, I guess nothing could be farther from the truth. My burdens are my reasons for joining the Crusade in the first place. They are my reason for continuing, and sadly, picking up more along the way.”

He looks down at the flask that he had subconsciously gotten out, and ponders it for a second, before absently running his hand over the bloodied patch on his arm.

“But it’s the trials you go through that make you who you are, no? I like to think I am a good man. I am sure there are those that disagree; you can’t be liked by everyone.”

Raphael falls silent, speaking only after a few minutes have elapsed.

“Not long ago, I received news from an old friend that my mother had gone missing. He believes she was taken by someone, for what reason he does not know.”

He rolls the flask over and over in his hands.

“I haven’t seen her in a long time. She didn’t live on the station with my father and I. She was always out travelling, making business contacts. I talked to her a couple times over the video comms, but I can’t say we were ever close. However…”

He unscrews the cap of the flask, and shakes it lightly, swirling the contents.

“…she is my mother, and to be taken from her home, it’s definitely not some routine attack by pirates or some such. I wonder if she was taken by someone she ran afoul of…or someone I have.”

He brings the flask to his lips, but hesitates.

“I think I’ve caused enough trouble for my lifetime, and now, it may have endangered my mother.”

He takes a drink, swirling the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing.

“Of course, it could be something completely unrelated. Perhaps her own trouble caught up to her. Nonetheless…I will look into it. I owe my mother a great deal.”

He screws the cap back on, but keeps the flask in his hands.

“I just can’t stand the thought of another one, Father. Nephanie…”

He runs his hand over the patch.

“The Chaplain…”
He looks over the church through the door.

“Ariel…”

He rubs the flask with his thumbs as he cradles it in his hands.

“And now, possibly, my mother. I just hope I’m wrong, Father. I hope my friend is wrong. I hope she’s safe somewhere.”

He falls silent for a minute before standing.

“I know I didn’t really confess too much, Father, but I can’t stay. I need to go and try to find something, anything. Too many times, Father. I don’t know how I’d handle another one.”
Raphael walks out of the church, his steps heavy on the worn stone floor.

First Confession

Raphael Saint walks through the doorway of the church, and after making his way over, takes a seat in one of the booths along the wall. Hastily making a sign on blessing over himself, he sits back in his seat, getting comfortable.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

He pauses for a second, gathering his thoughts, before talking as if to an old friend.

"You don't know how long it took me to find a place like this. I've gone for so long without saying anything, just carrying it with me. I'm glad I found you."

He sits silent for a moment before continuing.

"There...there was a chaplain back on the station my company used to own. He approached me one night when I was drinking alone, sitting down to join me. I guess he had learned of some of my past sins, and was wondering if I wanted to talk about them. He asked me what I thought about what happened, what I felt."

He pauses for a second, remembering.

"I trusted him, and I had known him ever since I was a child, so I opened up. I think the liquor helped. I don't usually open up to people about my past indiscretions, but sometimes I find someone. Of course, this was a while back before I built more of a tolerance for the liquor. Back when it didn't take me long to slip into intoxication."

He sighs, slightly shaking his head as he ponders his situation.

"I felt that talking to him helped me, helped me sort things out, and of course his words were encouraging, and I could tell he cared. That's always a plus when talking to someone about personal matters, as I'm sure you can understand. I would end up seeking him out whenever I felt I needed to talk something over, whenever I felt it was too heavy to carry concealed. He was a great help, and became a good friend."

Raphael pauses again, this time for much longer, before he finally continues.

"Up...up until I killed him, that is. That's my reason for coming here, Father. His death has weighed heavily on me ever since the day he passed."

Wiping his face with his hand, Raphael pauses to take out a small flask from his pocket and takes a small sip.

"You'll have to excuse me, Father. Look at me, drinking in a church of all places. But I fear I need it, Father. It helps calm my nerves, and with what I'm about to recount, I'll need that."

Putting the flask back into his pocket, he continues.

"Now don't get me wrong. I'm not a monster."

He pauses, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"Well, not on this account, anyhow. His death was an accident, a mistake. But there are some mistakes that are unforgiveable. The night I learned his death, I drank a lot. But that time...alone."

Raphael looks at the floor for a quick second.

"The day started innocently enough. Just another mining op. I was a miner, you see, before I joined the Praetoria. The Chaplain didn't participate in the operations; he merely conducted occasional services and blessed the crews before they went out. However, after much urging from me, he joined us on this particular operation. I don't know why I wanted him to come. I can't remember anymore. I think I wanted him to bless some new piece of equipment or something, something valuable yet untested."

Shifting in his seat, Raphael tries to get comfortable, but cannot, his memories preventing such.

"When it came time to conduct operations, I had lost track of him in the flurry of activity that is readying all the equipment. I kept crew size down to save money and put less at risk, so everyone, including me, did around twice the work, keeping us busy at almost all times. I guess he somehow found his way into the cargo bay as he was exploring the ship. I think he told me it was his first time on a ship where he wasn't confined to a passenger cabin."

Pausing to reflect, he looks at his hands.

"I did everything wrong that day, Father. I pressured the Chaplain into attending the operation, despite my usual practices of having a few crew as needed. I left him unattended once the operation truly started, and, worst of all, I didn't check to see if the hold was occupied before I opened it to the vacuum of space."

Sighing heavily, Raphael again gets out his flask and takes another drink.

"I can't imagine what ran though his mind as the lights flashed in the hold. He had 30 full seconds to contemplate his situation as the air was removed from the hold before the doors would open. Sometimes my mind wanders to what his last moments might have been like. The fear I'm sure he felt as the lights flashed, the air got thinner, and when the doors finally opened.

We found him later, once we had returned back to the station. It seems in last moments he crawled into the can that was being loaded with the ore. Unfortunately, the seal on it had failed, making him no better off in there than he would have been in the open void."

Raphael stopped talking, and sat in silence, listening to stillness of the church.

"I guess I feel as if it was all my fault. Everyone told me it wasn't, that it was a freak accident beyond my control. But it was my mistakes that doomed him. His death was just another reason to drink. Another notch on my rather long belt of regrets."

Raphael laughs slightly.

"Listen to me, complaining. It's not like me. But...it feels good to finally have someone to talk to again, about these things. I usually just drink to suppress these memories. Pitiful behavior, I know, but it’s become a habit, years of practice have ingrained the ritual into me. However, I am trying to better myself.

I joined the Praetoria to seek God's forgiveness for my sizeable collection of sins. Some people believe that if I ask for it and am truly sorry, that I'll receive it. However, I've never gotten anything for free, Father. I was raised to work for everything, and I'll work for God's forgiveness as well."

Standing, Raphael walks to the door of the booth and pushes softly, the creaking of the heavy metal door filling the entire church.

"Thanks, Father, for listening. I'll be back again. More friends felled by these hands, more transgressions, and I feel I'm not done making mistakes. Take care."

Walking through the church Raphael carefully steps over some piles of rubble in the main aisle. Taking his flask out as he passes through the door way, he takes a drink as he silently walks away from the ancient ruins of the long-abandoned, and empty, church.