Arms for the rebels, spice for the ProvSec,
Glit for the rich boys and guns for the bad:
Money up front and it’s all one to me.
Politics is a habit that I've never had.

I run spice, and karraba, and farrax, and glit,
Arms for whoever's got cash on the table,
Stolen items away from, or back to, their owners:
I carry whatever, whenever, I'm able.

But don't ask me to care about what happens next,
Who's gonna use it or why or on whom.
Jedi or Sith or some grey in the middle...
Don't try to drown me in stories of doom.

My ship is my own, and I'm who I've got:
None of your causes have looked twice at me.
Your money, your cargo, yourself if you must,
But don't try to foist your opinions on me.

I don't give a damn if you like me or not.
All I want is for you to stay out of my way...
The Galaxy's bigger than I can contend with;
I've got all I can do just to get through the day.

So, glit for a Grand Moff or arms for a Rebel,
Gems for the rich boys and guns for the bad:
Survival's the game, and it's one that I'm good at,
But politics is a vice that I never have had.

Original Fantasy:

Autumn Afternoon | Ilya's Wedding | Something... | Last Corner | Morgans

Original Fan Fiction

Star Wars | Power Rangers | Real Ghostbusters Battlestar Galactica | The A Team Space 1999 | Alias Smith and Jones | Jurassic Park III

Go Back to List of Karen's Fiction