Dreaming of Space

I was sitting up thinking about space. How there would be no galaxy jumping spaceships in most of our readers’ lifetimes. That’s pretty unfortunate…for you, anyway.  Having mastered immortality years ago I’m good to wait for these spaceships to come along. It would be great if NASA or SpaceX moved its shit though.

Flying around the galaxy and stuff in cruisers and battleships is great and all. It’s pretty cool to interact with alien species and find out about their culture, and it would be great to be the first Black captain of galactic exploration starship. Not a station that’s floating in one place, but one that is going to different planets and star systems. That would be awesome.

Personally, I’d be the guy who learned to navigate a ship and manage cannons and stuff for the sole purpose of space piracy. “Remember Swift? He had promise before going off to Jr. Academy. What happened to him?”

“He’s looting shipping ships and holding ambassadors hostage. It’s all on the news and shit, man.”

There’s a ton of promise to show in learning how to read star charts and learning all the different dialects and cultures of a specific part of an alien world. There’s also a lot of promise in reeling in a peaceful exchange ship of scholars and entertainers from the Planet Artsnob, taking all their gifts of arts, their dried food reserves, and their fuel, and sending them adrift into the unknown. I’d probably cut off communications because I don’t want the space police on my ass pulling over Kickboxer IV the Aggressor.

That’s my ship’s name. Kickboxer IV the Aggressor. It’s the baddest frigate in galaxy.

I don’t need the space police, the Federation, whatever asking me “Do you have license and registration?”

Or “Is this your frigate?"

That's kind of my favorite question to ask the captain of a ship. “Mind if we check for contraband?”

You know I don’t have license or registration. You know this is a pirate vessel. You’ve run the wanted hologram. However, I will answer that it is my frigate. I'm in the captain's seat. It's mine.

Yes, I mind if you check because it’s 99.9% chance that I have contraband on board. If this Martian cocaine doesn’t get to Earth by Tuesday I’d better learn to hold my breath without a spacesuit on.

That’s how they deal with you in the 22nd century. You’re late with their shipment or it “got lost” and they boot you out of the hatch in your drawers. Kingpins in the actual space age don’t play.

When I was 10 the three jobs I wanted to be when I grew up were gentleman gambler, champion wrestler, and a pirate. I achieved two of those, but piracy had fallen out of favor at the time. Then again, was it ever really in favor? People getting robbed and kidnapped. Businesses going under because of sea thievery.`

But this is 2016! Things are possible! Give it another couple decades and we’ll be traveling through space moving to a new planet once this one dies or gets overtaken by obviously aggressive aliens.

What? We still got hope that a race of beings that mastered interstellar travel centuries ago while we were still killing animals in launch tests and having Cosmonauts disappear are going to want to be friends with the yokels on Planet Bumblefuck Alpha, Sol? Come on, now. Earth is The Sims save they check in on every so often when they’re bored.

That aside, I still have hope we’ll get beyond Earth. It might not be in your lifetime, but it’ll happen, people. It’ll happen.

M. Swift is a long time fan of puroresu and heavy metal. Right now he’s enjoying Astro City, American Vampire, and 90s Image Comics. He is the host of The Speed Metal Graves. 

Follow @MetalSwift