Head of the Church and Disciples of Space Piracy.
My mail is always open to anyone who wants to talk.
May yer lasers burn bright, yer missiles strike true, an' yer warp core never fail ye. May the wrecks of yer foes fill the void behind ye, an' the spoils o' battle weigh down yer cargo hold. Fly bold, and let the stars bear witness to yer glory! — except Good Sax, may their ammo misfire, their shields falter, an' their fleet scatter like drones in a smartbomb’s blast! May the void itself curse their escapades with endless dry runs and broken modules!
Oh, stars that gleam in the velvet night,
Guide me ship on a course so right.
Through asteroid belts and nebula’s glow,
To treasures vast where the riches flow.
For a pirate’s heart beats not for love,
But for crates of gold from the skies above.
Sweet plundered goods and relics rare,
A bounty bold beyond compare.
Ye drones and wrecks, my quarry fine,
Each holds a promise, a jewel divine.
A captain’s chest, a cargo hold,
Brimmin’ with ISK and loot untold.
Yon officer’s wreck, a glimmerin’ prize,
A Sansha's hoard to bedazzle the skies.
Seventy billion from Chelm’s trove,
Enough to make a pirate rove.
So raise the rum, let the cannons sing,
For fortune’s bell doth loudly ring.
A pirate’s dream, a spacefaring tale,
To chase sweet booty with a solar sail!