quick stories

The greatest cure, only cure, for tyranny, is death

Bezo Scent was entering his 800’th year.

What he has seen. The power he accumulated. The wealth. He was right to start that xompany so long ago, to start colonising other planets.

Earth was simply not big enough for him. The ability to declare his state “sovereign” under a flag of convenience certainly helped.

Making the spaceships also helped. It’s not like anyone was able to get a “peacekeeping” force into space without his say so.

Space was the wild west, he was the sheriff, mayor and outlaw rolled into one, and he was dammed if he was going to let death get in his way. Life was not enough however, sex was not enough. He needed power and he needed to wield it over someone else. He needed a nemesis.

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