Dear Dad,
I wanted to say sorry. I'm sorry for the last words we spoke. I was still angry at you for that dinner at Donal's parents, and my words went out without thinking. I didn't actually mean half of that, and I wish that I had the time to tell you. I had cooled down a lot since, and Donal himself had me laughing about it all, calling it something we'd talk about and remember with a laugh down the years. I was looking forward to your return to apologise, and to tell you the good news: I finally obtained that temporary lectureship at the Xenobiology department. I know, it's not a secure position, but I've got a foot in the University now, and it should go a long way towards tenure one of these days.
But of course, it's too late now. We've all seen the news, and for a long time, hoped, hoped, hoped, that you had made it, somehow. One of those miraculous escape pods we hear pilots bragging about sometimes. But these belong to the world of pilot's tales, and sadly, we live in the real world. The one that seems to regularly go mad. The one in which Jared managed to survive to come back to us and tell us about your last moments. The one that decided that you had to die for trading with the wrong planet.
I didn't want to believe it you know? It was all over the news channels: reports of mass murders in the Segovan system. Trading ships first, then Police ships. Then they were said to have named themselves Imperial forces. Something about outer territories the Federation wants to claim. It just couldn't be true. It sounded like convenient propaganda covering up something worse. But then, Jared came back, and I knew he wasn't lying. He never could lie to me. I knew as soon as I saw his eyes.
The world is going mad Dad. I still don't know whether they were the Imperial Navy or a ragtag bunch of zealots, and I'm not sure I care. The consequences are there either way. Everyone here has family in Segovan or knows someone who has. Parents, sibling, children for some... That's the legacy of the great migration for you. A heavy legacy as of today. You wouldn't recognise the town. The sky feels heavier than it ever felt. The colours seem duller. And slowly, as if the grief wasn't enough, anger is taking its place. I lost three more students today. To the Navy. There were two yesterday, and there will be more tomorrow. Some want to help protect us all. Most want revenge.
And I don't think I can do much about it. I want to hate those who murdered you in cold blood. But how can you hate one that kills for a border dispute in this day and age? When the entire galaxy is in our reach and resource scarcity is a thing of the past? I can't hate madmen. I pity them. Violence is their only resort, their unique, disproportionate answer to any given question, in a sad, pathetic cry for help. But I can't help them either. Just like I can't help anymore the youth that they just fuelled with hate of anything Imperial. It feels like the world is going to burn, and it's our fault, us humans. Maybe it's for the best, before we taint the rest of the galaxy with our innate corruption.
I guess I will start caring again, in time. But right now, all I long for is seeing you come back and hugging you against me. Jared told me your last words. I love you Dad. I only wish you had been here to hear it.
Ellen.
