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.