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The paper is set down in front of him- a blunt pencil next to it. An eraser. Likely, the officers have a sharpener with them, in case he needs it. He’s had a lot of time to think- it’s been most of what he’s really only been able to do these past few months.
Yet, finally, despite his direct involvement in Team Galactic’s- in Cyrus’ plans, due to some means or another, they’ve given him Parole. He doesn’t know whether it’s the same for the others.
Sam Kingston leans back in his chair, regarding the lined paper for a moment as he decides how he’s going to start this. Eventually, he comes to a conclusion, leaning forward and picking up the wooden lead pencil.
He begins writing. He starts with the usual, ‘dear Ethan’. Then he pauses.
Ethan. He writes again. He could have written to his family- but they’d all condemned him in the one visitation he’d had before. So he decided against it. There’s only one person he can really think of saying anything to, anyway.
That’s… still around, that is.
All I request is that you take the time to read this letter thoroughly.
Team Galactic, to me, and to many others, was a getaway- from our lives, to become different people. People who weren’t set for disaster.
Yet I, and Master Cyrus, understood better than most, if not all, that we’d be going to disaster.
Cyrus wished for a world without human spirit. He failed, yet he also succeeded in his plan. The Beast swallowed him whole, and whether he died or not… we may never know.
But I have come to understand that I am perfectly fine not knowing the answer. I’m not sure when he stopped being a friend, and became a husk of a human being. Was it before I'd even met him, or during the operation?
In the public eye, he was the mastermind, the one who controlled everything, the leader. He was, by all rights, he was.
But behind the scenes, I was the one who was left to pick everything up. I researched, developed the Galactic Bomb, and planned the trip to Spear Pillar. That was all me. Master Cyrus was good at planning, but he lacked in other departments.
I… never held it against him. I should have. I should have said something. But that’s all hindsight, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can bemoan about it all you want, but… it’s how it is. There’s no way you can go back in time to change it.
Funny, I say that, when we tried to meddle with Dialga and Palkia. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect, and in the end, my conclusions always draw the same way:
I’m glad the Beast interfered when it did.
Back then, I was the only one who knew of Cyrus’ true plans. Unlike the other Commanders, I can’t plead innocent in the grand scheme of things.
I was depressed- admittedly, I still am, but that’s besides the point. I was willing to do all those atrocities if it meant I would be erased from existence- for neither ‘Sam’, nor ‘Saturn’, deserved a spot in Arceus’ almighty world, nor in Cyrus’ own.
Emotions weren’t for Cyrus- he openly admitted forcibly pushing down his emotions to me once. That was in the beginnings of Team Galactic. When it was just myself and him, before Charon, Mars or Jupiter had come along.
Whether he ever really felt any remorse was lost on us, lost on himself. Despite the whirling chaos and mess that he was, Cyrus was always stubborn. He wasn’t one to ever give up, especially on something he’d been planning for years.
Sam pauses as he realises he’s written over both sides of the paper, and frowns. One of the guards sighs and pulls out another paper, setting it down in front of him. Sam offers a slightly grateful look and continues to write.
So, even when I realised my life is worth living, I knew it was too late to stop him. That is why I never mentioned anything to you. I figured I was in too deep.
So then the Beast interfered, as I said above. And it left me to pick up the scraps- not that I had much time to do so, before the International Police stormed the place and arrested us. I’m not privy to what happened to the rest up at Spear Pillar, but I’m assuming that they got arrested too.
I’ve had exactly one visit from anyone. My Mother. She told me I deserve everything I got- and at the time, and still somewhat do, I agreed with her- but I wasn’t going to give her the time of my day by saying that, so I hung up on her.
The day after, I got a life sentence without parole. Or at least, it was that. Recently, I have been informed that my sentence has been lifted, and I am to get parole anyway. I’m not sure why or how it’s possible, but it is.
It’s given me time to think about what I’m going to do once I’m free, at least.
I’m going to have to remain in Sinnoh for the duration of my parole, no doubt the League themselves will be keeping an eye on me. I’ll be living with my family, as unfortunate as that is.
After that, though…Team Galactic by all rights is a real company. And by all rights, I am the rightful ‘heir’ to it.
I’m still smoothing out the details, but I might just pick it up and take it into a new direction. One that has no ties with Cyrus, or the sins of the past.
I’ve always liked astrology. I suppose you already knew that, though. So it’ll likely have something to do with the studies of space.
This brings me to the end. I don’t have much else to say, though…
I figure I owe you at least an explanation of everything. No need to find me- I think it’s better our paths don’t cross again.
I wish you the best,
- Saturn.
Sam leans back, regarding the signature- even after everything, he still prefers Saturn.
As logical as it is to keep a life sentence, it seems he’s been given a chance to turn his life around.