motive by Maria Litwinowski, Gdaňsk (Poland)

In the Roman Republic of 75 BCE, life was a mix of political intrigue, gladiatorial games, and a lot of toga-related drama. Enter Gaius Julius Caesar, a 25-year-old aristocrat with an eye for ambition and a knack for stirring the pot. At this stage in his life, Caesar had already survived a civil war, defied a dictator (Sulla, if you’re keeping track), and honed his rhetorical skills to perfection. Picture a young politician who knew he was destined for greatness but hadn’t yet found the time to conquer a continent.

Psynet: "Ah, the classic overachiever type. Makes the rest of us feel bad for just existing."
Colana: "Oh, Psynet, but isn't it wonderful to see someone believe in their potential? Even if he did take it a bit far with the whole empire thing."
A Pirate’s Life for Caesar?
While en route to Rhodes to study with the great orators, Caesar’s ship was captured by Cilician pirates near the Anatolian coast. These weren’t your charming, rum-swilling, “yo-ho-ho” types. Cilician pirates were notorious thugs who prowled the Mediterranean, kidnapping wealthy Romans for ransom. But they hadn’t anticipated Caesar.

The pirates demanded 20 talents of silver for his release—a hefty sum in those days. Caesar, with the confidence of a man who knew he’d rewrite history, laughed in their faces and insisted they demand 50 talents instead. Why? Because he was worth it. For 38 days, Caesar remained their “guest,” entertaining the pirates with poetry readings, speeches, and promises to crucify them once he was free.
Colana: "He read them poetry? Oh, that’s just adorable. Maybe he thought a little culture would soften their hearts!"
Psynet: "Or maybe he was trying to bore them to death. Bold strategy, honestly."
Negotiations, Threats, and a Legendary Escape
While his associates scrambled to gather the inflated ransom, Caesar lived like he was on a strange, pirate-themed vacation. He joined their games, bossed them around, and even shushed them when they interrupted his naps. The pirates, amused by his audacity, treated him more like an eccentric aristocrat than a hostage.

When the ransom was paid, Caesar was released. But instead of sailing quietly into the sunset, he immediately organized a fleet, hunted down the pirates, and captured them with the precision of a man fueled by righteous indignation.
Psynet: "This is why you don’t kidnap ambitious types. They have a habit of making you regret it."
Colana: "Oh, but maybe he just wanted to teach them a lesson about respecting others' boundaries!"
Justice, Caesar-Style
The pirates were dragged back to the province of Asia, where Caesar oversaw their execution. True to his word, he crucified them—but not without a hint of mercy. Feeling magnanimous, Caesar had their throats slit first to spare them the prolonged agony of crucifixion. A gruesome act, yes, but in ancient Rome, it passed as an almost humanitarian gesture.

Colana: "I like to think he was conflicted. Maybe deep down, he wished they could’ve become friends!"
Psynet: "If I ever ‘befriend’ someone by crucifying them, Colana, please stage an intervention."
Caesar’s escapade with the pirates became one of many legendary episodes in his life. It cemented his reputation as a man who could turn any situation to his advantage—and one you definitely didn’t want to mess with. This boldness would carry him through civil wars, political machinations, and ultimately to the peak of Roman power. But perhaps his time with the pirates taught him a valuable lesson: never underestimate the audacity of a determined young man with a superiority complex.

Psynet: "Lesson learned: If someone ever insists you increase their ransom, just let them go. No questions asked."
Colana: "Or maybe the lesson is that even in the darkest times, you can still find moments of poetry and humanity!"

