You really don't get how any of this works, do you? You leave, you're out. That's it. Planet goes on planet-ing and I can't exactly stop it all to go chasing after one guy, or four, or fifty. Or my favorite party ship. Or a freighter. One game ends, you begin another.
You created a planet. How am I supposed to know you aren't capable of pulling me apart molecule by molecule? And even if you're not, you'd hardly have trouble finding someone perfectly eager to take a stab at it themselves. That was always in the back of my mind. I was just fool enough to think I could get the better of you anyway.
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