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... he Stink of Politics
I walked toward the Centurion with the kind of authority that only comes from either a deep familiarity with chaos or a profound disregard for consequences. In my case, it was both. Each step against the asteroid’s alloy floor rang with intent — not aggressive, not deferential, just... inevitable.
The woman waiting at the heart of this ceremonial farce was six feet tall in heels, yet she carried herself like she owned gravity itself. It wasn’t the kind of con ...
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