2228-12-20 - Saturnalia Greetings

Beckham responds to a letter from his father in prison.

Date: 2228-12-20

Location: Caprica City

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 549

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20 December 2228

Constantine Niles
Prisoner: 471-99-0147
Caprica Minimal Security Ward

Mister Niles.

Hello, father. I am writing to let you know I received your letter of November 2228. And my answer remains the same. I am not interested in speaking at your defense. I do not want any part of your appeal. I don't care if you want leniency.

What I am writing about is to let you know that your plan has failed. Morten Dorn's lawyer showed up at the doorstep of my apartment with an offer. He offered me 20,000 cubits to leave Caprica and never return and to never contact his daughter again. If I don't? He says that he's willing to press charges for our activities when we were both minors. I don't care what he does or doesn't know about what Tamlin and I did, but you don't get your security blanket.

Tamlin hasn't contacted me since the story of your arrest went public. I can only assume that she's so ashamed of the fact that her husband turned out to be the son of a common con artist that she wants nothing to do with me. Did you know we married? It was an elopement - but I knew I loved her, even before you and Mister Dorn conspired to put us together in marriage.

I don't know if you planned for her to rally to me and come hold me and offer to run away like some frakked up fairy tale princess, but she didn't. Mom's in jail awaiting sentencing - and you're practicing your putting at the prison's golf course.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out what to do with my life. Noone wants to hire me because of who my father is. All my former 'friends' have dried up and disappeared - Tamlin along with them. The trust fund you always bragged so much about? Gone. The car? Repossessed. My apartment? I just got the eviction notice today.

I saw a note about the ICJPK looking for peacekeepers on Sagittarion. It sounds like grueling, tiresome work - but at this point, that may be exactly what I need. A change. Because if I keep on this path, I will end up frakked up, and probably dead in a gutter someplace.

All while you enjoy your elegance in your minimum security prison where you get to live like minor celebratante.

I guess in the end, you won after all.

I thought long and hard about cashing this cheque from Mister Dorn. 20 thousand cubits would go a long way. But that means I would have to accept that I was /part/ of your scheme. And that Tamlin was a pawn we played. And I was neither. And I never will be. I'd send this to you as proof, but you'd find some way to get it deposited.

I think I'll keep it. That way, when I need a reminder of how low people can go - how much trust I should allow myself, I can just look at it and know.

My own father was willing to frak me to get a step up and more secure in Caprican society.

This is my last letter to you. I denounce you. I hate you. I hope when you die, and Hades is stuffing his syphilis filled, spiny throne cock in your ass, you feel an once of the disgust I feel for you. Not because you caused me to lose our wealth, our home, our life.

But because you made my name worthless, and played me for a fool against the woman I wanted to spend my life with.

In the end, you didn't gain a golden parachute. You lost your family. You lost me.

I hope that balances right in your ledger.

Frak you and Happy Saturnalia,
Becks Niles


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