197S9.9.22
[Nooj]   [Gippal]   [Baralai]   [Paine]

We are finally on board the ship and waiting for the tide to take us from this desert. We boarded hurriedly since the dawn brought an army of fiends swarming the beach. It was only the flying eyes and the snakes and we could easily have exterminated them, but the cowards who give our orders commanded camp be struck and boarding to commence as soon as possible. This resulted in one benefit to us – we were not searched as we came on so the pistols remain hidden somewhere about the person of Gippal.

Now that we are properly situated on this revoltingly unsteady form of transportation, I must maintain the facade that this journal is concerned with documenting the facts of this misbegotten enterprise and set down what has transpired thus far.

We are fewer, which makes for more comfort. Baralai, with the assistance of those from other groups who are still functional, got the damaged (both physically and mentally) stowed away in the two sets of private quarters below decks. Yes, those which were used as places of assignation on the way out. Since Paine is the only female remaining and she is mine, there is no need for such facilities – not that many of the more enthusiastic earlier participants are in any shape to use them. Hah!

Before I forget – the gigantic capsules Baralai compounded to combat my nausea problem seem to be working. True, we are not yet actually sailing but the rocking of the ship is not all that far different from the effect of the open sea and I feel no discomfort – so far. When I say I feel no discomfort, I am not being strictly truthful. Swallowing the things still makes me gag and I feel I am forcing a large beetle down my throat three times a day. However, I cannot deny the difficulty with the size is a bagatelle compared to the alternative. I must commend the Alchemist for his skill.

He has also supplied Paine with a sizable number of the pain reducing capsules to use as she sees fit. He seems to consider her my amah and I don’t know whether to be amused or annoyed. She doles out the anodynes whenever she seems to think I am more uncomfortable than usual. I confess I take them when she insists and they are extraordinarily effective, enabling me to do those things I must do with far less difficulty. I shall miss this luxury when the group breaks up - as it must inevitably do. I also think the pain control is preventing me from talking in my sleep. I have asked Paine and she insists she has not heard any nocturnal muttering since I began taking the medication.

With the below decks area occupied by the dregs of humanity which made up the other five groups, we have elected to sleep on the open deck. It is more fragrant for one thing and more private for another. I have some business to attend to with my companions and do not wish to be overheard.

The Maesters, as I am told was true on the earlier voyage, have quarters of some extravagance near the bow of the ship in a sort of house-like structure nestled in an area where they can catch the freshest breeze and avoid contact with those they consider beneath them. I think I heard it called a forecastle. But what do I know of nautical terms? I am a Spiran Warrior and that requires knowledge of quite enough specialties. I don’t have time to waste learning things that will be of no use, like the Al Bhed language. The important thing is that these Sacred Incompetents have sufficiently separated themselves so that I need not be on guard against their oversight at all times.

Hmmmm ... I wonder what I would do it I found one of them wandering the deck in the night. Now I know the capacities of the machina hand, I can deal with most creatures without an additional weapon. A quick move, followed by a quiet splash ... I suppose I should guard my thoughts more carefully but when I think of the condition of those bewildered haunted-eyed remnants of a putative army... Enough!

It is more than ever obvious to me, as it must be to any other thinking human, that religion and reality do not mix. One is concerned with that which does not and never did exist; the other deals with how we are, in fact, to continue to exist in the world as it is – not as we might wish it to be. That may be why Baralai failed as a priest-in-training. I fancy he was far more aware of the actualities of what surrounded him than a proper priest is permitted to be. And he is much too caring about the physical well-being of his companions. Real priests are only worried about getting their adherents to the Heaven or Heavens of which they prate so much. They spend their time worrying about pyre-flies and not the condition of a soldier’s feet. I am not altogether certain I even believe in pyre-flies. Oh, I have seen the sparkling fragments leave a dying thing, but how do I know what the priests blather is the truth? They have presented no proof that unsent souls become fiends. If it were true, there should be far more fiends in urban areas where surely not all people die with one capable of ‘sending’ conveniently at hand. And pyre-flies? I am inclined to think they are merely a natural effluvium which occurs as the last flame of life is extinguished. When I finally find my ending, I suspect I will go out with a small explosion of pyre-flies and then it will be done with. I wonder if I will see them as my eyes fail and my breathing stops.

This is no time and no place and this journal is certainly not the correct repository for such unproductive musings. I am postponing the interviews I must have and indulging myself unduly. ... Ah! I just felt the deck lurch and I hear a creaking of the wood. We are under sail.

/////

I am finding the cane an essential for getting around on this ship. Otherwise the unsteadiness of the deck would have me on my arse a dozen times an hour. I never realized how the angle of a plane could change so quickly while remaining a plane. Thanks to the genius of Baralai, my chief complaint so far is vertigo resulting from that which should be steady being not. Also, thanks to Baralai, the incessant stress on the machina limbs is not making me scream inside my head. Paine says nothing but looks volumes as she presses the various capsules on me. I am beginning to feel like a true machine, one which runs on inserted gelatin boluses of differing sizes. At least, I continue to function.

One problem is solved to my complete satisfaction. I have had the interview I intended with Gippal. He was under the impression I wanted him to service the non-human components of my body and seemed rather disappointed when he learned I only wanted his ear, not his hands. The lad has a fixation on my machina parts. I fear leaving them is going to be as hard on him as leaving Baralai, perhaps more so since battle boys are easily found and a man who is half-mechanical is not so readily available on this planet.

When we met at a secluded place by the railing near the stern of the ship, in a sort of alcove, he immediately began talking about the duel. For some reason he is convinced the leader of Group Three had poison about his person and intended to use it to assure the priestling's death. He claims he heard a noise, a kind of sloshing when he wrestled with the man and that sound meant poison. I cannot connect the sound and the presence of a pernicious substance but, then, I am not Al Bhed and maybe that is one of the gifts of the desert. Gippal was quite insistent that he was right. I think he may be trying to convince both of us that I made the right choice when I authorized the use of the Judas pistols. If so, it is a decent and well-meant argument. I asked him if he had told Baralai about his discovery and it seems the boy refuses to discuss it at all. The entire incident must have affected him more deeply than I thought. I really must pay more attention to the morale of my charges.

By initiating a talk about the duel, Gippal gave me the perfect opening to segue into what I wanted to say to him. When I asked, he told me he still carried the shameful weapons within his clothing. It shows great strength of character to be so willing to maintain physical contact with such evil-embrued objects. Even I, heathen that I am, would fear their dishonorable genesis would somehow transfer to me if I kept them so close. They make my somewhat dubious deeds seem clean and wholesome by comparison. Still, the Al Bhed are a practical race, not given to fancies (except as they involve sloshing sounds and poison vials), so Gippal may not have spent much time in contemplation of what he carried.

We found ourselves to be in agreement about the vileness of the pistols. We talked for a while about the extreme efforts expended by the Maesters in their effort to retrieve them and speculated about the real reason they had been brought along on this venture. The best we could come up with was that the loathsome priests are so accustomed to having the odds slanted in their favor, they are always in possession of the means to assure that. We also agreed there were probably any number of other odds eveners we did not know about in the baggage so carefully stowed in the forecastle. It was strangely comforting to hear my most paranoid ideas echoed by the firmly reasonable Gippal.

In the end, we agreed the pistols could not be permitted to come into the hands of dishonorable people. It would be criminal indeed to risk their return to the coffers of the Maesters. So, carefully shielding his actions from the view of any who might suddenly appear and look in our direction, Gippal groped around in his trousers and brought out the weapons, still warm from their hiding place. He handed me the prepared one and I looked at it carefully, memorizing all the details of its construction and markings so that if it ever surfaced again I would know it instantly. It seemed almost to burn me as I held it in my right hand, balancing the weight and admiring the pernicious beauty. I could see Gippal caressing the one he held in a similar fashion. We then looked at one another and with a common decision, reached over the railing and let the guns fall into the sea simultaneously. They made only the faintest of splashes which would not have been noticed by the keenest-eared sailor standing immediately above.

With our eyes still locked together, we turned our backs to the ocean. Gippal held out his empty right hand and I took it. I, who shy away from touches, took another man’s hand for the first time in years and meant it. In the act of destroying the Judas pistol and its mate, Gippal and I had become brothers in a far more profound sense than those who rise from the same womb. We had pledged ourselves to one another in a silent ceremony more meaningful than the sharing of blood. We had merged our honor.

/////

Group Five has done the required duties attendant upon preparing the expedition members for sleep. Baralai and Paine have made the rounds of the sick and injured, healing and comforting. That wretched Recorder from Group Four is still sobbing. At least he has learned to muffle his grief or maybe he is running out of strength. Whatever, he is not so loud in his misery as he was at the beginning. No one seems to be near dying, so far as we can tell and everyone is fed and watered. Only another day and we will all be back on the mainland and Ixion alone knows what will happen then.

I have taken Baralai aside and expressed my gratitude for the fruits of his talents. He is still easily abashed but seemed pleased to be thanked in person. It is the least I can do for the services he has rendered. In matter of fact, I am becoming indebted to my team to an embarrassing degree. They have done more for me than I have given them. This is an improper balance for a leader and his men. I must find some way to address it before we are assigned to our separate commands. I do not wish to carry additional burdens along on my search.

I am curious to know just what the Maesters have planned – and I use the word advisedly – for their next step. They have managed to winnow out this collection of two dozen with great success. Will they reform us into equal units again or release those who have done so badly? Do they have the audacity to pretend any of this shipload, except my team, are fit to command so much as a kindergarten force? I can see the Crusaders now, faced with commanders of the quality of most of this mob. There would be slaughter in the captain’s tent before the night fell. No, not even men as incompetent as these sanctimonious idiots would dare try such a stunt. They must be intending something else. Or – could it be they have not thought at all, that this is the best of their strategy? That they will land us on the shore, bid us a loving farewell and take to their heels. It would be no surprise if they did.

Enough of my idle, uninformed, futile poking. I shall follow the others above deck, take my evening medications and listen to the chatter of my brats until it is time for bed. Then I shall ...

 

 

 

I got pretty far in the knifemaking last night… but, at the end of the night, right when I was about finished cutting down the edges, the top tooth broke. It had been my knife for the whole endeavor, and it finally got tired, I guess. The tip snapped right off and almost hit Paine in the face.

I confided to her what I was doing… only because she asked. It’s kind of hard to avoid the question “What exactly are you doing with those teeth?” So I told her, straight-up, that I was making a traditional knife. I mean, it is pretty traditional, back from the earliest days before the Al Bhed really conquered machina. We still have the holdovers – it’s like a rite of passage for us to make a chrysknife, as I’ve heard them called in some parts of Spira – but no one really uses them anymore. I can’t see why… they’re really nice, and rather deadly.

Unfortunately, I think I’d let it slip to her sometime previously that I rather liked the pair of blades I already have… so she guessed that I wasn’t making the chrysknife for myself. How do women do that? It’s like they know every move a guy makes before he makes it. They must all be psychic. But, anyway, I didn’t know it until that very second, but I told her it’s a gift for Baralai.

She made the most girly sound I’ve ever heard Paine make, and that includes every noise I’ve ever unwillingly heard her make during her excursions with Nooj. It was kind of like “Awwwwwwhh!” I mean, what are we, kittens?

But, yeah, I guess it’s a gift for Lai now. She suggested that I write something meaningful on it for him. But, you know, what could I possibly write there? Or carve, as it is, if the other knives can hold up that long to finish this project. I mean, that’s awfully…

…well, sappy, I guess. It’s like something I’d do for a serious girlfriend or something. Lai’s, clearly, not a serious girlfriend. Or is he? Well, not the girlfriend part, but a serious boyfriend?

Why am I even thinking this? He was just supposed to be, like, a battle boy I guess. But that all changed when that duel happened, and then when I let him—

Don’t care. Really.

We’re on the boat now. Happily, Noojster seems to be doing okay. Lai’s told me he’s made some medicine that helps with his various issues… they all seem to be working, since he isn’t on his stomach puking yet. Heh.

So I’ve heard these rumors of some project that’s being undertaken against Sin. Apparently they’ve built some kind of big gun… it has to be a ray gun, that’s the only thing that’d even possibly work. There’ve been rumors about that before, but no one’s actually done it since we’ve never had enough funding nor enough freedom to build such a thing. But I guess the Maesters are backing it this time, and actually getting Al Bhed to do the job – real Al Bhed, not the converted ones.

Maybe it’ll work. I wonder if we’ll be back from the next mission in time to see it.

Well, it seems like we’re about to take off… I want to go stand at the front and feel the wind start to move by me before I go to meet Noojster. I think he wants me to give him a tune-up again. I can’t imagine it’ll be easy on a moving ship, but… well, whatever the guy wants, really.

/ / / / /

…he didn’t want a tune-up.

Man, the story about the poison on the leader of Squad Three sounded so weird. Noojster just… well, he wanted to talk. About that. And so I told him what I thought about the poison, but it sounded so stupid. I couldn’t put any words to exactly what I heard and how I knew. I think he thought I was making things up to make him feel better.

But I wasn’t! It’s the truth! If it wasn’t, I… well, no, I probably still wouldn’t have let Lai fight. He was injured. And…

It doesn’t matter. It’s over. It’s all over. Nooj didn’t know why the Maesters would have had the syacdanbecdumc – we didn’t know back then, and still don’t know now – but we did agree on one thing: we couldn’t let them get them back. They came so close; I don’t even know how I got onboard this ship without being searched. Lucky, I guess, or something. If they’d searched me, I would’ve killed them. Too bad.

But anyway, those defiled machina are gone now. Nooj stood guard, and I finally removed them from the loops inside of my pants for the first time since I put them there after that duel in the sands. They’ve even stayed right in place each time I’ve taken my clothing off, never moving, almost like they didn’t want to be discovered either. The poor things, being defiled and then being put into the hands of the Maesters. I pity them. No machina should have to go through that.

We set them free. Nooj took one and I took the other, we gave them one last look-over, and then held them over the railing and dropped them into the sea. They hardly made a sound as they fell in, almost like they were happy to be going to a better place.

I can’t help but to think that someday someone’s going to find them, and that person will never know what the story behind them is. They’ll never know that they saved the life of a young priest of Yevon… maybe the next person to lay a hand on those pistols won’t even know what Yevon is. It makes me hopeful for the future, really.

After I dropped it, my hands felt so empty, and so pure all of a sudden. It was like these last days of the horrible torture of having those defiled machina on my body were just erased, and I could feel the tingling in my hands. I don’t really know why or what it signifies, but the next thing I touched with that hand was Nooj’s hand. It was the hand that he had dropped the other pistol with. It was like… I don’t even know. The dishonor was gone now, replaced with something new. It was kind of like loyalty… I’ve always known I’d be loyal to Nooj, I guess, but now it was like a pact. Our honor was cleaned.

It seems so simple, but sometimes the simple things are the most important.

/ / / / /

We remained stationary again for a little while tonight while the sun set. I don’t know why they did that, but I took advantage. I went swimming… and I took Lai this time.

We stripped down to our skivvies – yes, our skivvies – and jumped off the stern into the water below. Or, well, at least I jumped. Lai kind of… closed his eyes and forced himself to fall. It was pretty funny. I wonder if he’s ever been swimming before. He must have, because he could keep himself afloat pretty well.

The other two didn’t join us – I don’t know what they were doing, but I think Nooj might rust or sink if he jumped in – and no one else seemed to feel up to swimming, but I did. I totally got Lai back for attacking me in the water when we finished the trials on Bikanel… yeah, I dunked him under the waves a few times.

Of course, the little chyga wouldn’t stand for that, so he had to do inappropriate things to me while submerged. Not like I’m complaining. Lai can hold his breath for a long time. I wonder if he’s considered Blitzball…

Before I knew it, the first moon was rising. It’s quite a sight to see the moon rise over the ocean. And then… Lai said the weirdest thing. He said that he didn’t want to be separated from me.

I still don’t know how to take that, but at the time, I had to say something. So I admitted that, yeah, I’d kinda gotten attached to him too. It’s true! I really have. I’m man enough to admit that. I’ve had sex with Lai more times than I’ve had sex with anybody else, and it’s only been a couple of weeks. That says something.

I don’t think it says quite as much as the fact that I can’t help but to feel incredibly thankful for every time I get to touch him. I mean, he’s like a blessing. It’s amazing that I still have him… he should have died out there. We all should have. But somehow, we’re all still alive, and that binds us in some really important way.

I don’t know how, exactly, just yet… but hey, maybe we can all remain together. That’d be great, but I know it doesn’t work that way. They’ll probably send us off to four separate corners of Spira. But… maybe Lai and I can stay together. It’s what he wants, and somehow, it’s what I want too.

I can’t imagine Nooj and Paine splitting up, either. So… what if we all, the three of us, refused to serve under anyone but Nooj? He’d call us stupid for doing it, but I kind of feel obligated in a way. I mean, it could work, couldn’t it? They wouldn’t go against their four best soldiers’ wishes…

Oh, wait. It’s the Maesters we’re talking about. They’d be just stupid enough to do something like that.

 

 

 

We're underway, again.

Early this morning, a second wave of fiends swarmed the shore, but, instead of letting us fight them, the Maesters insisted that we hurry to board the boats. It was nothing we couldn't handle--the same flying fiends and snakes as before--but I suppose the Maesters just wanted to be sure all were safe...or that they would be safe, anyway. Through a little help from the healthier members of the other squads, we managed to get the injured aboard without any incident and they're now resting comfortably in the two rooms below deck previously used by the female recruits. Naturally, there's no need for them to be used in that manner, now, as Paine is the only female still active in the training and both she and Nooj have made it plain that she has no interest in such things. It has made a rather interesting change, though: at least three of the scattered recruits approached me, but at least they seemed to be willing to take no for an answer. I only wonder what Gippal would say...

...no, I shouldn't be thinking like that. It would be the same to lie with them as it is to lie with him, right? What would be different? I'm just as a battle boy to him...aren't I?

...why doesn't it feel that way? When did it change? Is it because he sacrificed so much for me, because, if it weren't for him--and Nooj and Paine, as well--I'd be dead in the sands...if I even managed to make it that far? I probably wouldn't have made it past the first days of training if it weren't for him; I would have shot myself with Pahho or I would have begged to be taken back to the temple rather than have to face Nooj. I wouldn't have any of the confidence I have now and I'd still be shaking like a child at the slightest hint of danger, if he hadn't supported me. I can still remember so clearly that first night when I cried in his arms with his fluids thick on my skin...I was so afraid that I had condemned myself that I couldn't see just how much it meant. I've come past that. Now, when I lie in his arms and watch him sleep, it's one of the most peaceful moments I have ever known and it surpasses even the feeling of kneeling before the Fayth.. It means so much...and he means so much.

...I don't want to be separate from him. I know it's an impossibility in this situation, but, whatever comes when this is over, I want to be where he is. I've even started to entertain the idea that we could all--Gippal, Nooj, Paine, and myself--demand an assignment to the same squad or, at least, to the same area. It's probably just a foolish daydream--the Maesters would probably scatter us across the globe simply out of spite--but it's so tempting; even for all the horrible things I've experienced, this has been one of the greatest times of my life...and it's all because of them.

/////

Thankfully, Nooj seems to be taking this boat ride much better than he had the last. I haven't had a lot of time to watch him to be sure that the medicines are doing what they should, but, the few times I did spot him, he seemed to be moving with more ease...and at least he's not laid up below deck, weak and desperately ill. I'm so glad that those pills are working well for him, though I think I'm really just glad that I've found one small way to repay him all he's done for me since I arrived; I don't think I can ever fully repay him--or even fully thank him--for making me into a stronger, more useful man, but at least I can offer a few small signs of my gratitude. How far he's brought me from that child who could do no more than cower and cry before him...

There's really not much to do now that we're on the boat and I'm a bit afraid the restlessness will soon begin to settle again. In hope of keeping that from happening, I decided to work on refining the remaining herbs and minerals on the deck, even if we may not have as much desperate need of them from here on in; it's likely better to have an excess of them rather than to be in desperate need of a remedy with none on hand. I decided to take Dani with me with the hope that he'd take interest, but he really did nothing more than just stare at the water. At least the fresh air probably did him well...

After a while, Paine joined us on deck and, though it started with her helping with the herbs, it soon turned into one of our usual chats. For a while, we discussed what we thought the next leg of the trial would be, but neither of us had any real strong ideas about it, aside than that we both assume it'll have to be less stressful than the trek through the desert. I'm...still not really sure how the topic of Gippal and myself came up. I think it may be because we were discussing how we both really don't want to have the squad split up once this is over, but the transition was so smooth that I can't really be sure; Paine always could get information out of me so easily and I often find myself telling her things which I had intended to keep to myself. I really can't be upset about it, though; I trust her implicitly and she's become such an older sister to me that I really can't begrudge her anything. Regardless, she seems to think I should just be honest about it.

I don't know. I...just don't know.

/////

Just as the sun was setting, the boat came to a temporary halt and, wanting to take advantage of this, Gippal asked me to come swimming with him; how could I refuse?

We both stripped down to our undergarments and, though Gippal jumped directly into the water from the ship's stern, I decided to freefall. I could see that Gippal found this amusing--it's hard not to notice the glint in his eye when he finds something really funny--but it didn't matter; even his amusement couldn't keep me from enjoying the caress of the warm air as I fell, followed by the cool embrace of the water. That always had been one of my favorite things, even if I rarely got to actually go swimming, and it was somehow made better by the fact that Gippal was there to share it with me. He seemed to be intent on repaying me for my antics on the shore, though, and he dunked me quite a few times. I had always been able to hold my breath for quite an impressive amount of time--just a natural habit enhanced by the fact that the other priestlings always seemed to want to dunk me--and, one of the times he held me under water, I decided to teach Gippal a little lesson.

So, now Gippal is aware of what happens when one has a weak ice spell cast on the crotch of his undergarments and, though he was less than pleased with me, I don't think he was all that injured; it certainly didn't keep him from teaching me a lesson, in turn. By the time the lesson was through, the first of the moons was rising and, watching it with my arms around Gippal, I couldn't keep myself from speaking.

I told him. As quietly as I could, I murmured into his ear that I had grown quite attached to him and that I didn't want to be away from him, when all this was over. I don't know what made me admit it--it could simply be the romance of watching the moonrise over the ocean--but I think I'm glad that I did; he did, after all, admit that he's gotten attached to me, as well. I...won't read too much into that, but it does make me very glad; maybe it is possible that we can remain together, no matter what the terms of our relationship may be. I think I'd be happy even if I could just be beside him...

After a while, we returned to the ship and, once I dried off and redressed, Paine and I checked in on the injured for the final time that night. Once that was finished, we all went to deck and, under the stars, we just talked for a while. It may be odd to say so, but I think these are the things which will stand out brightest in my memory: Nooj leaning against the railing and watching us through his glasses, not really participating, but obviously listening...Paine at his side, her arms crossed over her chest and a slight smirk on her lips every time Gippal or I made an inane comment...Gippal all but bouncing with energy and chattering through all the pauses in conversation. It's a small and unimportant thing, but the togetherness and peace among us in those moments are almost holy.

I did notice something odd while we were on deck, though.

I know it's no longer necessary for me to do so, but I've continued to use the stars to map our progress toward the mainland, if just to keep myself in practice. The odd thing is that, if I'm reading them correctly, the stars tell that we're heading almost directly back toward Mushroom Rock. That's simply ludicrous, though. It can't be true. The Maesters wouldn't drag us out to the desert only to return us back to where we started, would they? Even they couldn't be that cruel. I must simply be reading them wrong. I'm probably disoriented or too tired to read them properly. I ought to get some rest.

...as soon as I take care of Gippal's still slightly damp clothing. They ought to dry up in the crow's nest and I'm sure that he'll find them in the morning...

 

 

 

On the boat at last. In the end, they rushed us on -- the beach was being overrun by fiends again. It would have been easy enough to take them out, but of course now the Maesters decide that they're in a big hurry. So here we are.

Baralai got the more damaged ones settled in the cabins, including Dani, who is still in shock. He seems a little calmer, at least, but I don't think he's ever really going to snap out of it. It's worrisome, actually -- what the hell do the Maesters think they'll be able to do with him?

Something intriguing happened last night. I was cleaning up after dinner -- not that I do that every night; the three of us rotate. It just happened to be my turn. Anyway, I was minding my own business and dousing the cookfire, when I suddenly had to duck a sharp chip of fiend tooth flying at my face. Gippal threw me an apologetic look from where he was working the teeth of the sandworm he caught yesterday. Naturally, I asked him what he was doing. He tried to be evasive at first, but eventually he admitted that the traditional knife he's making is a gift for Baralai.

Now, I am not a girly girl. Not even remotely. Never have been. But maybe this being in love thing is making me soft, because I thought that was the cutest thing I'd ever heard, and I sighed a little. Gippal rolled his eye at me, but it's true. What a gesture; Baralai is going to adore it. Especially if Gippal engraves it like I suggested.

It got me to thinking a bit, though. Baralai's never come out and said so, but it's clear to me that he really cares about Gippal. But I haven't seen the signs of that in Gippal so much -- he strikes me as the kind of guy who's really casual about who he sleeps with, a love 'em and leave 'em type. Now I wonder if I was wrong about that. Maybe he's got real feelings for Baralai. I kind of hope so; Baralai deserves some happiness. Then again, how will he feel if the Maesters split them up once they get their final assignments?

Now there's something I've been really good at not thinking about. Or at least at pretending not to think about.

The boat just launched! I think I'll go up on deck and watch for awhile. I do love ships. With luck, I'll actually get to enjoy the trip this time.

/ / / / /

So far, so good: this voyage has been far more pleasant than the last. The ocean is calm, there are fewer people stinking up the hold, we mostly have the upper deck to ourselves, and no one has tried to proposition me yet. Not that most of these men are in any shape to try anything. But even if they were, they wouldn't dare. Whether it was his intention or not, Nooj made sure of that when he placed me by his side on the march. It was as clear a claim on me as anything could have been.

But most importantly, the seasickness pills are working. I don't know how we're ever going to be able to repay Baralai for everything he's done, for all of us. Nooj takes the capsules mostly without complaint, although he still bitches a little about how big he thinks they are. So far, I've restrained myself from making a crude joke about how I've never complained about the size of-- certain other things, but if he keeps this up, I may not be able to resist.

I've given him his afternoon dose, along with a painkiller. Then he promptly disappeared, I don't know where. Baralai is hanging out on the aft deck with his herbals; I'll go see if he needs any help. It's a nice spot to watch the ocean from, anyway.

/ / / / /

The others are all at rest for the night. Baralai and I passed out the last round of herbals already, helping those we could and trying not to worry over those we couldn't. At least it seems unlikely that anyone will die tonight.

Now I have nothing to do, and as usual my mind has turned to the subjects I spend so much effort ignoring during the day. When I get into these moods, I always tell myself that I will worry about tomorrow when it comes, but it never seems to work that way. I wish I weren't quite so prone to brooding.

What happens next, when the boat gets to wherever it's going and we get our new assignments? No, they get their new assignments. I'm not really a part of this force, regardless of how my teammates have treated me. I may be more deserving of a Crusader command than anyone here who isn't a member of Squad Five, but that doesn't mean I'm going to get one. As far as the Maesters are concerned, I'm just a recorder. Will they take my spheres, pat me on the head and thank me for my services, and then send me back to Luca? Fayth, if I was bored as a blitz recorder before--

I suppose I could join up with the Crusaders as a regular soldier. I'd probably rise through the ranks quickly enough. But I'm not sure I want to fight under Yevon's banner. Is there any place in Spira for a warrior who refuses to even pay lip service to the Maesters? Maybe with the Al Bhed, but that probably means Bikanel, and I can't see myself going back there voluntarily. Not right now, anyway. Besides, I don't know if they'd even accept an outsider.

And then there's Nooj. I can't imagine being parted from him. Well, not by anything other than his death. That I can imagine all too-- Stop that, right now.

Anyway, if I did join the Crusaders, could he request me as a member of his company? Would he even want to? It wouldn't be very professional, it's true, a commander arranging things such that his lover reports to him. Although I'm sure it wouldn't be the first time.

I haven't the faintest idea of how I would even broach the subject with him.

Of course, in a perfect world, all four of us would find a way to stay together. It's actually almost as hard for me to think about having Baralai and Gippal taken away as it is to consider losing Nooj. Plus, we all work so amazingly well together. How did that happen, anyway? An enormous stroke of luck? Or was it fate? I don't tend to believe in fate; it's been a long time since I've credited any mysterious supernatural force. But with this evidence before me, I might have to change my mind. The Maesters would be fools to break our team apart. Not that foolishness has ever stopped them before.

So many possibilities, so few that I actually would choose. And I can't do anything about any of it! It drives me crazy, knowing that my future may be completely out of my hands.

Ugh, no more thinking. I'm just going to depress myself. The boys are up on deck -- I just saw them heading up there, dressed and dried off after their evening swim. When they passed, they suggested that I join them. I think I'll do just that. Maybe I'll even bring the camera. Not for the Maesters, though -- for me. If they do split us up, I'd like to have something to remember them by. Nooj is down here, talking into his little voice recorder. I need to give him his evening medications before I do anything else. Then I'll drag him to the deck, whether he wants to chat with us or not. I need to stand at the rail with him, breathing in the night air and looking at the stars. I savor quiet moments like that, and who knows how many more of them we'll get?

 

 

 

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