Post by Art Doyle on Feb 9, 2012 13:59:20 GMT -5
I got this feeling that they‘re gonna break down the door
I got this feeling that they’re gonna come back for more
See I was thinking that I lost my mind
But it’s been getting to me all this time
And it don’t stop dragging me down
To the ever faithful crew of the Trinity,
This is probably a little unexpected, and to be honest I didn't expect it myself-- even from myself. My mind's a little scattered right now. It's hard to put it into proper thought. Hah. Who would've thought, right? A man of words, and I'm at a loss for what to say. What happened to James was regretful-- and if you truly know me, you'd know I never regret anything. A true and loyal friend I'd never thought to have. Lucky to have. We all were. But that's not why I'm writing this letter. Funny, I don't think I've ever written a letter before. Once-- maybe. Probably a love letter, right? This isn't. There's a lot the crew doesn't know, and James was probably the only one to have anything close to an idea. I was never a good man. I know, I know. You're always hearing it. Art Doyle? Yeah. He's a good man. Just keep your wives, sisters and daughters away from him, yeah? No. Probably never believe it much. But I've done plenty of bad in this 'Verse to warrant a comeuppance sooner or later. I was a hitman. I was very good at it. I didn't flinch. I didn't show mercy or remorse. Some extremely dangerous people have caught up with me. People I'd rather didn't find their way to this ship, on this ship. They'd kill half of us in our sleep before we'd even know. So I'm going to run-- lead them away. The reason I'm not saying this in person is because I know you would've stopped me. Band together like a crew and take this one. This isn't something I want to subject other people to; this is something I have to handle. Maybe, one day, when I'm clear of it, I'll come back. Find my way home. But until then I
Art pauses, stilling the pen a moment for the first time. He rereads a few of the end sentences, and screws up the piece of paper. He tosses it over his shoulder, and into the engine. The piece beneath it is blank, and he starts to write again.
To the crew,
Sorry to inform you all by letter, but I'll be taking my leave of the Trinity. I wish you all the best, and hope there's no ill will to me leaving so suddenly. I have some things to take care of -- personal things. I'm sure Kalli will be more than suitable to take care of the repairs. The Trinity will be in good hands. I thank you all for making the best of things no matter the hardships. Please, don't try to find me.
Goodbye all.
Sid, I leave you my last cigar. Good luck, Captain.
--Arthur C. Doyle.
The letter is finished, and the man moves through towards the galley, leaving it at the centre of the empty table. Everyone is fast asleep. Art takes one last look around, drinking in the sight and the silence. He rests the cigar down on top of the letter, salutes the empty room-- as if one last goodbye to James himself-- and grabs his things.
Art Doyle leaves the Trinity. He doesn't know when, or if he'll ever be back...
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