Nowhere Left But Forward

Stelle brillanti in un cielo scuro

2005-10-24T21:18:56Z

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For a very long time I was a rapidly decaying shell of a person. I believed to my core that trust was a word of farce and that love was only fiction that was invented to give people a false sense of hope. I believed that everyone existed only for one's self and that temporary comradery was the closest thing to friendship I would ever know.

One day I was rescued; literally and figuratively. The figurative rescue was not apparent for quite some time, but now to me it is more obvious than ever. I have learned that things such as love exist and that friendship and family are real words with real feelings behind them. I have learned that there are people for whom it is worth dying. I have learned what it means to have a family. Until now I have not truly understood how important this was, nor have I understood the need to convey this to the others as I will when I return. I feel like I owe my life to every one of them, even if some of them would rather shit on me than listen.

I dream that one day we will stand and work as one; as a friends and as family. I dream that one day the others will all understand, as I understand, that for some of us there is no one else; these are the people for whom we live and die.

As important as the crew is, I still feel like there is really only one person responsible for being the biggest catalyst for the greatest and most significant change to my life. I love him. I love him with every quark of my being. Maybe I do not deserve him, but I do not think he truly understands why- I am not certain I even understood why until now... Jeremiah, you took me in when no one else would. You helped me to realize that I had worth. You helped me to see that there were others worth calling family. I am not the shell of a person I once was and I owe it all to you. You are, and forever will be, the brightest shining star in my dark sky.

If Luir makes him happy, I should not stand in the way- I will not stand in the way- as long as she continues to make him happy. If she hurts him, however, after stealing away my brightest star, I swear on my life I will end hers.

--

Man these self-expression lessons are fucking hard.

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Completamente sono annoiato

2005-08-18T07:31:57Z

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So I guess a bunch of the crew went to hell or something. That must be exciting. Oh fuck me I'm bored. Why'd they have to take five fucking days?? I think if I play Velerak-Invaders one more time today I'm going to implode. Seriously fucking implode. Jeremiah seems preoccupied with something and as usual he's not talking about it. If I leave am I going to fuck that whole thing up? What is that noise? Oh. Rifle ran out of power. Why am I putting this into a journal for fuck's sake? Damn. Maybe I should build an anti-Gilgamesh destroyer bot or something. That might be entertaining. Then again, if they don't manage to get him out of hell or whatever then it will just be a wasted effort. I hate the new tech bay. I miss my old, dark room that reeked of solvents and stale pastry- I never did figure out what was making the pastry smell...

Fucking hell. Where's a good old-fashioned threat of destruction or some war that we senselessly decide we need to win for someone else when you need one? I'd even settle for irritating Mala, but even she's not here any more. I wish I had something to blow up. Bah. I think I'm going to go beat on the bag some more.

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Rammarico: amico migliore e nemico più difettoso

2005-04-18T22:12:35Z

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I spent so much time in my life feeling wronged that I never took the time to consider the atrocities I had committed.

Mark's father was a good man. He loved the feel of a well-tuned engine, the challenge of repair, and the beauty in a finely crafted machine. He loved his son and his family with reciprocated beauty. He is, and forever will be, missed.

A tiny piece of metal thrown through the air by the smallest of actions; the pull of one boy's finger... This boy did not consider the shockwave of grief and anger that would follow, nor did he care.

I have more in common with this boy than anyone should... How many times did the twitch of my finger cause this kind of tragedy? How many times did I walk away without the slightest concern? How many families have I destroyed out of spite, anger and recklessness? If a lifetime of punishment is required to atone for one good man's death, then I surely deserve an eternity of torture, for I lost count (if such a thing ever existed) of those who fell by my hand long ago. Many of them were nothing more than a cold and calculated squeeze; a piece of a second in which I was reborn into the dark Lady of Death herself. If I felt anything at all it was certainly not remorse.

Who was I to wield such power over so many lives? I was no goddess. I was no angel. I was a machine; a cold, empty and remorseless legionnaire of death.

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Una nuova prospettiva

2004-10-26T23:38:11Z

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I came to a recent realization that since a very early age I was never afraid to die, but rather was afraid to live. I came to this realization in an unlikely circumstance; I witnessed a quite traumatic experience from my past from a new perspective. I realized as my mind recoiled in a mixture of terror, horror and wonder that every change I needed had nothing to do with this moment; it was my own fear of the present that was keeping me from my true potential.

I realize now that my life is not pieced together from damaged and discarded refuse but rather a construction of my own design. I am no longer afraid. I no longer regard myself as less important than anyone else. I am no longer unsure of my position or capabilities, and I am tired of being treated as a detriment, for that is a title of which I am undeserving.

--

Something really must be done about the freeloader-to-contributor ratio of our ship's populace. Maybe they just don't think they have anything to do, but I get the impression that most of them simply do not want to be an asset and would rather leech from the rest of us. These freeloaders are doing nothing for us other than consuming valuable resources (such as food) and causing dissention amongst the crew. We have been traveling together long enough that we should be able to function as one powerfully precise machine, but instead the ranks are ignored and even the slightest moral objection is treated as justification for anything just short of mutiny. And though this is a concept which I have only recently begun to fully comrehend, things must change or it could mean disaster. We have no room for non-contributing passengers (quite literally) and no room for dangerously irresponsible officers. Maybe I should propose a thinning of our population and a restaffing of officer positions. I wonder if I could even get it past Jeremiah?

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Un Momento Brillante

2004-08-22T19:59:10Z

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I thought my own existence to be meaningless; I was just another tarnished piece of the galaxy's cast-off refuse. I thought I had crossed the threshold of misery, abandoned care and delved deep into the lair of apathy. I thought I could sink no lower and that there were none who could (or would) ever save me. Desolate places- dark and cold and smelling somewhat of rotting meat and urine, with nothing but my thoughts and a brick I had affectionately named "Jeremiah" to comfort me. My mind descended into desolate madness; even psi had abandoned me in a place that embodied everything in my past that I had hated and feared. I wrote a letter with a stick of wax to a brilliant star I could barely remember. The star had never forgotten me.

They took away the light. I am alone. I am scared. I love you. Please save me.

Even on the virge of collapse, a star shines brilliant and true. It does not know it is a star, and it does not know the impact it has on everything that orbits. It does not understand that today it brings life and structure. It does not know that tomorrow's collapse will consume everything around it. It knows only that it is.

My mother told me that once, long ago.

Brilliant star, tonight we shared the sky for one shining moment.

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Giorni Bizzarri ed Ore Bizzarre

2004-05-12T20:50:40Z

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I have no love for Earth. I am beginning to believe that this is true in any dimension and any time, but particularly true for this "magic Earth." Fuck magic-Earth.

--

There was a time when all of the things that happened would not have bothered me, but that time is no longer here. These are very strange times.

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Le Nostre Guide Impavide

2004-04-26T00:42:06Z

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I know I am filling a crucial role in all of this. I know I am doing the best thing I can possibly do for the entire crew right now. I never asked to be in charge, and indeed never wanted to be. I think I have done well thus far, and I am certainly glad that I am not in it alone. Why is it that in the face of such crisis that my thoughts still turn toward Jeremiah? I know now that it probably was not him that I had to subdue on the bridge, but I still feel so guilty. What hurt the worst about that situation was not his striking me...
--
Although I still don't care much for the girl, Mala is proving to be quite useful in a crisis. Remarkably calm and obedient. Indeed, though we do not in any way see congruently when it comes to questions of morals and ethics, I am finding a new appreciation for her loyalty.
--
I think the Andromeda unit is simultaneously the most valuable and most dangerous item we currently have on board. 'Her' actions saved lives, there is no question there, but what would happen if it came to 'her' having to choose between saving 'herself' and saving us? I wonder if anyone else has thought about this?

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Una Vista del Passato

2004-04-13T20:44:13Z

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This is not the first time I have been a part of a team. This is not the first time I have served those in whom I believe. I just hope my belief is well-placed this time.

I was a part of the largest mostly human-led military force in the known galaxy. We had the power to save worlds or destroy them. We had many enemies, but none so powerful and devistatingly frightening as the Shaan. I have never seen a lifeform so adept at killing- no- at everything. It seemed that every time we figured out how to kill them, they would do something- evolve something- new. They had a troop that was hatched and grown for no other purpose than to thwart whatever it was we were doing. We knew we would never kill them all, but we couldn't let them continue their march toward Celes Primo, so we fought on.

It was no surprise that Celes intelligence hatched a plan to deploy "evolved" soldiers of its own. Everyone had heard the rumours, but most of us took them as fiction.

The Celes Armada did anything in its power to hold back the Shaan. Anything up to and including launching suicide missions. I was sent on one such mission, under the false pretense that we would be performing reconnaissance duties.

By order of Admiral Kasja, there were 200 infantry companies deployed to the surface of ZX-24, including mine. By the time we planned our escape, there were only 12. We had retreated to some naturally-formed trenches when the call for retrieval was made. Our retrieval was denied. We knew we were to die if we did nothing, and with desperation came desperate action. We remotely pirated a Celes destroyer to secure our escape, and escape we did.

We secured the ship. Some of the crew sympathized, others had to be dealt with by force. It was the first time I was ever really in charge. Sure, I had led a couple of fighter missions here and there, but this was different. I had gone from just another soldier in a doomed platoon to the leader of a rebellion. We gathered as much information on the Celes as we could; their plans, their motives, etc. We discovered that much of what we were fighting over was territory that the Celes had forcefully taken long ago from the Shaan. The Shaan, it seemed, wanted their territory back. The Celes objective at that point was to minimize the advancement of the Shaan beyond the reclaimation of their old territory. The territory they were sacrificing included several planets in over 6 systems, most of which had been colonized, one of which was the planet on which I grew up.

We began waging war on the Celes. Armed with information as we were, it was not hard to gain sympathizers. We captured several ships, but it was not until we foolishly attempted to pirate Kasja's vessel that we were defeated. I was taken into custody and imprisoned, but this was not the worst punishment the Celes had to offer.

I was subjected to several tests, most of which were excruciatingly painful. "You should be proud, Caprinelli. You will be the first in a long line of evolved soldiers. In a way, you will lead the way to the Shaan's defeat." I was better off not remembering what happened next.

I don't know what they hoped to accomplish. They rewired my entire central nervous system. They implanted and removed things in a seemingly arbitrary fashion. They opened my skull over and over like it was some sort of toy chest for their amusement. They pulled out my eyes and replaced them. Then they did it again. And again. They told me I hadn't done anything deserving of anaesthetics, and would therefore be given none. And when they had exhausted all that was entertaining in causing me pain, they killed my memory and prepared to send me to rot in a box for whatever was left of my life. I escaped in transit. I tortured and killed everyone in the transport unit, including other prisoners. I revelled in the feelings of release that their screams brought to me. To me, their blood was as warm silk upon my skin. I was their plaything no more.

What happened beyond that is another story for another time.

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Quelle Femmine Ignaro

2004-04-11T21:35:40Z

So many stupid bitches, so little opportunity to pound them into fucking pulp. Mala? Baci il mio asino! Jet? Baci il mio asino! Alexis? Baci il mio asino! Alexandra? Va la bobina d'arresto su un'etichetta e muore!

Huh. I guess there is something to this journal thing after all. I feel a hell of a lot better. And now to administer the bag's daily beating. Ciao.