If you can keep your Cobra MKIII flying when all about you are losing theirs on the side of stations and blaming it on you,
If you can trust your aim when other's doubt you could hit a capital ship at 10 paces,
But make allowance for their appalling aim too;
If you can wait to dock and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about when you can dock, and don't deal in lies on available berths from station control,
or being hated as a pirate, don't give way to pirate hating when they steal all your cargo yet again,
and yet your docking don't look too good, nor planetary landing too wise:
If you can dream of a big cargo run - and not make idiotic dreams your master;
If you can think of attacking that NPC - and not make greedy thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Federal and Imperial traders and rip those two impostors off just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken twisted by INRA to make a trap for fools, or watch the ship you gave your life to, broken, scorched with laser burns, and stoop to build it up with worn-out tools and duct tape:
If you can make one heap of all your cargo, and risk it all on one turn of Sohollian pitch-and-toss,
And lose,
and start again at you beginning at Lave with 100 credits, And never breathe a word about your loss over the forum;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew to serve your turn long after they are gone to the Thargoid and Fer-De-Lance again,
So hold on when there is nothing in you except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on to your Pan-galactic Gargleblaster!'
If you can talk with crowds on the forum and keep your virtue, sanity and temper when all about are losing theirs.
Or walk with Emperor Duval - nor lose the common touch or shoot too many slaves as you pass, nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you even on the Abraka Drabble thread,
If all men fly with you but not too close to that Gas Giant; the shields canne take it!
If you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds' worth of distance running, before a police viper catches at you and attacks.
Yours is the Galaxy and every thing that's in it.
And - which is more - you will be a Commander my son"
Apologies to Rudyard Kipling
If you can trust your aim when other's doubt you could hit a capital ship at 10 paces,
But make allowance for their appalling aim too;
If you can wait to dock and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about when you can dock, and don't deal in lies on available berths from station control,
or being hated as a pirate, don't give way to pirate hating when they steal all your cargo yet again,
and yet your docking don't look too good, nor planetary landing too wise:
If you can dream of a big cargo run - and not make idiotic dreams your master;
If you can think of attacking that NPC - and not make greedy thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Federal and Imperial traders and rip those two impostors off just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken twisted by INRA to make a trap for fools, or watch the ship you gave your life to, broken, scorched with laser burns, and stoop to build it up with worn-out tools and duct tape:
If you can make one heap of all your cargo, and risk it all on one turn of Sohollian pitch-and-toss,
And lose,
and start again at you beginning at Lave with 100 credits, And never breathe a word about your loss over the forum;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew to serve your turn long after they are gone to the Thargoid and Fer-De-Lance again,
So hold on when there is nothing in you except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on to your Pan-galactic Gargleblaster!'
If you can talk with crowds on the forum and keep your virtue, sanity and temper when all about are losing theirs.
Or walk with Emperor Duval - nor lose the common touch or shoot too many slaves as you pass, nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you even on the Abraka Drabble thread,
If all men fly with you but not too close to that Gas Giant; the shields canne take it!
If you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds' worth of distance running, before a police viper catches at you and attacks.
Yours is the Galaxy and every thing that's in it.
And - which is more - you will be a Commander my son"
Apologies to Rudyard Kipling
