A Pearl Among Swine
26 Jul 2016Kyndi the Badass Space Chick
I always did love a man in uniform.Well, maybe not love. "Appreciate" might be a better term for it. "Like". "Respect", even.
For instance, I appreciate the way that you pigs walk around in those getups that a girl can see from a full klick away. I like the way that your presence ups the markup when my goods hit the black market. And I respect the way you show up for your low-paying, menial jobs day after day, knowing that you'll never catch all of us.
More to the point: that you'll never catch me.
Oh, dear me- did I say never? Oh, alright: there were a few times that you came close. A few times that even stealthing into a hangar didn't totally mask my sig. And a few times that one of you was even able to complete a scan.
That pisses a girl off. But good job all the same. I'm sure the people of this fine system sleep soundly because some stuffed shirt got lucky with a scanner reading.
But really, we both know why you're in the uniform, and I'm in black leather. It's because I'm free. Free from your stupid little laws, your media shackles, and your cradle-to-grave, wage-slave lifestyles. I'm free from calling anyone "sir", or "ma'am", or "boss". I go where I want, when I want- and I do whatever the hell I want once I'm there.
I'm free. You're not. We both know it. That's why you do what you do: to reduce people like me into bondage, with the words "serving and protecting" on your hypocrite lips. Well, guess what? I don't need a servant, and I for damn sure don't need a protector.
I reject your laws. I reject your authority. I reject your stamped, notarized, approved, permitted, regulated, tidy little bullshit lives.
Your credits, however...
Keep up the good work, officer.