Corsan, dearest,

You have a name now, so please, pretty please, stop just changing who you are, because I don't think we can go on together if you insist on being someone new every time I come to visit you. I understand if you felt uncomfortable as a ruthless killer/streetwise punk/unwitting fugitive/unfairly deposed businessman in the Conchordian Undercity (but it wasn't called that then, was it?). I thought, well, it is a nasty place - maybe it'll be good to get you away from all those buildings. So I made you the commander of a starfighter squadron in the Navy Galacticia, and then I even promoted you to having command of your own battleship. So I left you there for three weeks and when I come back, what do I find, but you're flitting along The Run in a converted cargo freigher, pirating. You're not supposed to be a pirate, Corsan, you're supposed to be a bastion of honour and loyalty and help the others grow and develop, before you die in an extremely emotional fashion half-way through the novel. Okay, maybe that's it, maybe you don't want to die, and maybe you want a sub-plot to yourself, rather than just helping the others find their way. Okay. No guarantee on the dying thing, though, and you won't like it when you find out what he's hiding from you. He needs a name, though, as so does she, even if she's already dead. After all, you loved her. Don't you dare change that. You might be the captain of the Spirallily for now, but that could be changed.

Forever yours,
Rooty.