Aphelion Issue 241, Volume 23
July 2019
 
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Lore of the Spaceways

by Iain Muir

(With profound apologies to Rudyard Kipling)

Now this is the lore of the spaceways, of the lands beyond the sky
And the Terran who heeds it may prosper, but he who ignores it will die!

If you meet a new race in First Contact, and their ships you cannot scan,
If they approach you with open gun ports, then don't open fire, young man!

If the alien leader is hostile, and your Captain's a good-looking burke,
Tell him to try and seduce her. It always works for Jim Kirk!

If you're on the run from the Cylons, in a ship that's the last of it's kind,
Prepare to be patient, my children. Lost colonies are hard to find!

If you're scheduled to die when you're thirty, and the Sandman carries a gun,
When the gem in your palm turns to black, there's nothing to do but to run!

If you leap through the ether to Barsoom, and of bloodsports you're not a fan,
If your head you'd keep on your shoulders, it's best to learn swordplay, young man!

If your phaser banks are all empty and your warp engines just won't go,
You can fix it all in an instant, with the magical words 'make it so!'

If you find a derelict spacecraft, and its hold is chock-full of eggs
Get the hell out of there, manchild, while you've still got two legs!

If you hire a Correlian smuggler, you'll get where you're going, child, but
Soon you'll be storming a fortress, to rescue him from the Hutt!

If you're lost in the Delta quadrant, seventy long years from home
By all means stop and take side trips, ­ it's much more fun if you roam!

Sign up for the Mobile Infantry! Your planet, manchild, needs YOU!
Go and see interesting places, and meet bugs that on you will chew.

If you roam between worlds in a police box, with a Time Lord who has no cares
Offer the Daleks a sweet, child, and remember: they can't climb up stairs!

Now this is the lore of the spaceways, of the lands beyond the sky
And the Terran who heeds it may prosper, but he who ignores it will die!


© 2000 Iain Muir

Iain Muir lives in Central Europe, having gotten the heck out of Africa. He tries to write science fiction, fantasy, and poetry in between catching flights. He's sure that the time spent in airports will cut decades off his time in purgatory.

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